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Unsurprisingly to nearly everyone, everything wasn’t magically better once Deadpool and Wolverine ceremoniously held hands and saved the world (according to Wade, it was to Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” but whose to say when it comes to the merc. Personally, for Logan he felt like Queen’s “The Show Must Go On” is much more appropriate and sets the mood much better for their ultimate self-sacrifice but alas he has no influence over the so called ‘Audience’ Wade is always talking to.) Logan takes it back-things were better, for one he wasn’t sulking in his old universe where was hated by all and did nothing by drink himself into oblivion. No, instead he was in a new universe, rooming with Deadpool, his roommate a coked up or as she now claims to be going sober- a formerly coked up blind elderly woman, and a grotesque looking dog that Logan felt more fond of than he cared to admit. He had people that didn’t hate him and in fact, he began also befriending Wade’s friends, he had to with how often as the merc with a mouth invited them over. He also started to act as a mentor of sorts to Laura, seeing as she’s one of the people who managed to encourage him to fight for this universe to start with.
So, things were better, but that doesn’t mean that they were perfect or all fine and dandy. Logan was still haunted by his past and old habits die hard. That’s why he finds himself here, in a dingy bar on the shittier side of New York City, one that he’s been at for days, drinking his heart out, the bartender only cutting him off when they legally had to as he paid for every single drink one at a time and the scumbags were too weak to say no to some easy money.
He's been at the bar for over 76 hours, only moving when he needed to piss or when he was sober enough to realize his ass had started to become too uncomfortable on the hard wooden stools. As he drank he let his mind wander until it would eventually come to a screeching alcohol induced halt but this time, it didn’t, his thoughts only became louder as he thought about his weekly Cake Boss marathons with Wade or his walks with Mary Puppins or the fact that he was supposed to meet up with Laura for lunch and Wolverine claw training sometime next week or…was it this week? What time was it? What day was it? He was about to call for another round to drown out his thoughts when he paused, feeling an odd sensation in his gut.
Drinking till he couldn’t remember their screams or the blood that pooled from the X-men’s still warm bodies wasn’t anything new, he’d done this before and for much longer periods of time, his healing factor wouldn’t allow for alcohol poisoning and it would sober him up much too fast for his liking. This feeling was new though, never experienced before and it tore through him, leaving him feeling empty in a way alcohol wasn’t filling. His gut ached and as soon as he knew it, his hands were shaking, and all he wanted at that moment was to go home and lay down on the uncomfortable pullout couch he shared with Wade and pass out. All we wanted to do was go home. So that’s exactly what he did.
Logan clumsily stumbled through the door of the apartment, head pounding from the residual hangover. He barely had time to take off his shoes when Blind Al (he still can’t believe how Wade had him calling her that) looked in his direction, towards the sound of the door opening and angerly shouts “Logan?! Logan you son of a bitch is that you?!?!”
He sighs before grumbling, “Yea, how could’ve you possibly have guessed?” before plopping on the couch next to her.
“Because Wade the asshole is loud as fuck when he barges through the door, plus the dickhead hasn’t been back for over two days.” She cusses, and Logan notices the lit cigarette held tightly in her hands, swarming up towards the ceiling that he determines due to its brown discoloring, looks like it’s seen years of the exact activity. It does pique his curiosity though, he can tell Al is stressed over Wade’s absence which is weird considering he tends to go missing for days while out on mercenary missions, why is it different now?
He decides to poke the bear by propping his legs up on the coffee table and asking, “Wades gone? Why? He get a new job?”
Blind Al takes a long drag of her cigarette and says, “No, the asshole’s out looking for you. He left when you didn’t come back after 24 hours. Lord knows why, but the dumbass declared that he wouldn’t come back until he had managed to drag your ass back here.”
This time that feeling in his gut was back and he felt sick and shaky all over again. Wade was out there looking for him? Knowing the maniac clad in red, he probably wasn’t eating or resting either, when he was focused, nothing could tear his attention away. “Why is that asshat looking for me? I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.” He choked out, pushing the feeling in his gut away.
“Ehh, doubt it. Look at you, you smell like piss and I bet you look like shit. The bastard worries about you, rather you be safe, drinking at home rather than in some bar and sleeping god knows where, if at all.” Al hits him with her cane and Logan does nothing to fight back.
Yea Logan’s absolutely going to be sick, that feeling is back tenfold and he’s positive that Blind Al can feel him shaking like a leaf from the other side of the couch.
“Stop all your whining, look, just text him and let him know you’re back so he can stop all his whining, and therefore, the dog can stop all of her whining because she can’t stand to be alone for more than 3 minutes at a time.” Al interrupts his inner turmoil and Logan agrees, grabbing his phone off the table, the phone Wade graciously got him when he first moved in to keep contact with people when he was away yet decidedly left when running off to get shitfaced at a bar for several days. He shoots a quick text to Wade, letting him know that he’s back at the apartment and plugs it into the wall, just before it can power off and hopes that the loud mouthed merc reads it soon or that he even has battery life left on his own device.
He sent the text, there’s nothing more that he can do, so why is he still so tense?
“I feel you shaking like a god damn addict going through withdrawal other there, what the fuck is the matter?” The grumpy senior citizen asked before putting out her cigarette.
“Nothing, stay the fuck out of my business.” Logan gruffs, who was she to dig into his personal matters?
“Oh shut the fuck up, it becomes my business when you have MY pseudo-son out there worrying his ass off over you and then you drunkenly stumble into MY apartment that’s leased out in MY name that I graciously let you live in because Wade just so happens to have a soft spot for you.” She grumbles back. Logan can be an absolute prick; he has experience and a natural talent at being grumpy as fuck. He’s the king of gruffness, but that doesn’t mean he can out prick the prick queen. He might have a black belt in bitchiness but god damnit Althea fucking invented it (and that’s saying a lot considering that he’s technically older than her. Needless to say, this is one battle that Logan is sorely losing.
He lets out a groan of defeat before begrudgingly admitting, “Something isn’t right…it feels like my body-no, my soul is falling apart. I think about my past-about the people I’ve lost and it feels like there’s and untouchable dust in my soul. Then at the bar and now here, I think about you or the damned dog or Laura…or Wade and about how I’m wasting time drinking instead of being there with them and-it feels like there’s a hole in my heart.”
Al’s head follows Logan’s voice and an unexplainably softer look forms on her face. “You carry guilt wherever you go, you carry your family’s deaths everywhere and the way you deal with it is interfering with how you interact with your new family. You need to get your shit together if you ever want to feel better.”
“Well, how the fuck do I do that? Just forget everything that came before and pretend like everything if perfectly-fucking fine? That there isn’t tons of innocent blood on my hands?!?” Wolverine wanted to scream, wanted so sob, wanted to drink. But most of all, he wanted Althea to somehow magically have all of answers he’s looking for, the solution to his madness.
“Well first things first, you gotta take a long hard look in the mirror. I’m blind and even I can tell that you’re a fucking mess just by how you carry yourself. Clean up your face a little bit, shampoo and condition your greasy ass hair, and for the love of god remember to wash your ass!” Al starts, cuts herself off when Logan groans and then gets back on track “You were given a second chance at life, a second chance a living, stop fucking it up by drinking your problems away, trust me, no amount of alcohol or weed or cocaine is going to make your problems disappear. You have to do that part, it’s hard fucking work, but you have to do the work if you want things to get better and that includes facing down your damn fears. Stop being a pussy and worrying about the past or what could happen, focus on what YOU want to happen. And remember…take it a step at a time.”
Before Logan could respond, loud jingling could be heard approaching the door along with the occasional thump and curse word, letting them know that Wade was finally home.
“Well, looks like the idiot’s back, I’m going to go take a damn nap” Al got up, and made her way to her room, knowing both of her boys were back home safe and sound.
Logan just leaned back and closed his eyes while he sighed quietly and waited for Wade to come in, processing what Al had just told him.
The silence of course was quickly broken by none other than the red suited merc now standing in the living room, shocked to see Logan just sitting on the couch, seemingly sober.
“Well well well, look who finally decided to show up, took ya long enough, did ya bring back the milk or is that lie reserved only for internet dads?” Wade says, and while Logan has no idea what the fuck he just said, he knows Wade is pissed (and more so worried).
“Sorry bub, went to a bar and lost track of time” He explains, given it was the truth.
“Yea, more like you lost track of days. And you didn’t even take your phone this time! I got it for you specifically for this! I know you have a stick up your ass when it comes to communication, but you can at least text a guy before you disappear off the face of the Earth!”
Logan shrugs, feeling guilty and mumbles “Forgot it…”
“No shit wolfnuts, if you didn’t do this all the time, I would’ve seriously thought that you managed to get kidnapped or jumped universes again or some shit, and that I was going to have to go on a daring quest to rescue you like a damsel in distress.” Wade death drops onto the sofa where Al was moments ago, still dressed head to toe in his suit and still pissed at Logan.
Logan can smell the city on Wade, he’s usually able to sus out where he’s been, what he’s eaten and who’s he’s seen, but all he can smell right now if the city, everything blending together as if the man clad in red had been everywhere, not stopping in one place too long for any particular scent to linger on him. And of course, Logan feels awful when he sees Wade sulking in the side of the couch, proving a point by refusing to move even though the badger of a man can’t smell any food on him or in his breath and hears the merc’s stomach lowly growl beside him.
So of course, Logan, the king of taking exaggerated breaths lets out a purposefully dramatic sigh, walks to the kitchen, leaving Wade alone only to come out not too long later with two bowls of cereal, it’s not a meal, not even a particularly good snack, but it was quick and enough to fill their empty stomachs.
He nudges the mouthy merc and hands the bowl of cereal over to him as a peace offering. It takes a minute, but Wade eventually sits up and takes the bowl, removes his mask and starts eating as Logan sits beside him and does the same.
It’s quiet, aside from their loud chewing and the eventual milk slurping, but it’s a comfortable silence. One that Logan knows and is glad won’t last once Wade gets done eating now that he’s done sulking at Logan, and it starts to feel like home.
He gave Althea’s words a long hard think, and soon found himself agreeing with what the grouchy old lady had to say, if he wanted things to change, he was going to have to put in the effort.
So, he started by cleaning himself up. He trimmed his beard, degreased his hair, brushed his teeth (and yes, he does wash his ass, we all do and if you don’t then get the fuck on it right now). He gets what Blind Al was saying, he needs to take care of himself, to put in at least a little bit of effort into how he looks, and not only will others notice (Wade sure did, with how he started commenting on Logan’s ‘glow up’ the second he walked out of the shower) but his self esteem will get better too (Wade also took notice to this too as he proudly beamed at Logan every time the muscle mountain of a man smiled, laughed or joked along with him, sounding freer than he had, well since Wade’s known him.)
The next thing he decided to tackle would be a challenge. Logan knew that old habits die hard but if Blind Al could manage to cut out cocaine from her life after being dependent on it for so long, Logan could stop drinking and go sober.
So here he was, standing at the kitchen sink, every bottle of alcohol he could find in the household, lined up in front of him while he get’s ready to do something that would make even a grown man shudder. He grabs the first bottle, it’s of an older whiskey, he twists off the cap, and begins to move to pour it down the drain.
That is until the walking embodiment of ADHD bounds into the kitchen, dressed in short shorts and an oversized Hello Kitty T-shirt. “Woah woah there hot stuff, isn’t too early in the morning to be drinking….every bottle of alcohol we own?” Wade says confusion (and a bit of worry) evident in his voice.
“M’not drinking it.” Muttered Logan, “M’getting rid of it so I won’t want to drink it. Al says it’s part of goin’ sober”.
Wade’s eyes go wide, he shakes his head as if he’s shooing away a fly or clearing a though out of his head and runs over to the window, opens it and starts whistling as if he were calling an animal.
“What the fuck are ya doing, bub?” Logan asks, absolutely baffled by his roommates actions.
The pain in Logan’s ass closed the window and turned to him, “Oh sorry, I’m checking for flying pigs, because I thought you-Logan Howlett, the Wolverine, the man I dragged out of his dimension that I had happened to have found IN a pub said you were going sober.”
“What? Don’t think it’s true?” He muttered, quickly becoming pissed off.
“Excuse me for having my doubts, Peanut. Especially after last week where I had to go out and look for you because you went missing for 3 fucking days because you ‘lost track of time’ at a bar” Wade pokes his chest suspiciously.
Ouch. Logan took the jab in stride, considering it was his fault and his track record isn’t exactly stellar, “Well I am. Last week made me realize that I don’t like being drunk all the damn time, so I’m following in Al’s footsteps and going sober.”
Something washed over Wade’s face, it was a subtle change, but Logan could still see it clear as day, it was pride. Wade Wilson was proud of him for deciding to make this change, all by himself, and god damn it, it felt good.
“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, good on you Wolvie.” Wade began and then a mischievous grin took over his face. “Say…need any help getting rid of those bottles? You know what they say, two pairs of hands are always better than one” he said while giving his eyebrow muscle a wiggle.
Logan let out a little fond smile himself, before quickly wiping it off with an annoyed groan and shrugging, “Sure, grab a bottle and let’s pour.” He then turned around and Wade followed behind him with a “Fuck yes!”
And that’s how they started their morning, with the two laughing together and pouring both cheap and expensive liquor down the drain with little quips like “Yea! Take that alcoholism!” or “Get fucked ya bastard!” And though Blind Al was a little pissed that they had wasted all of her liquor, including her wine she liked to drink a glass of at night to unwind, she still smiled at the progress Logan was making, and was glad he was willing to share that journey with Wade.
When the liquor pouring was done, they both had big smiled on their faces and Logan felt freer than anything. So much that we was comfortable enough to share his thoughts when Wade turned around to him and went “Well, now that drinking demolitions off your bucket list what’s next?”
It took a stupid amount of courage and an embarrassingly long time of just standing outside of their apartment complex, with Wade waiting patiently for Logan to get inside the Dopinder’s taxi, but eventually they made it to their destination.
If Logan wanted to take advantage of his second chance at life, he would need to face his ghosts and the traumas that haunted his past. And unfortunately for him, that meant visiting the place where his nightmares occurred. The X-Men Mansion…
He told himself that he didn’t have to go inside, he just had to look at it. He had to see the place in this universe and see it not littered with his family’s corpses.
Logan shakily got out of the car, with Wade not far behind and he took small steps, only a couple feet away from the taxi and paused. Wade stopped and leaned on the Dopinder’s car, and nodded at Logan, uncharacteristically quiet. They had agreed on the plan and went over it multiple times, , Wade would call beforehand to make sure no one would come out and cause Logan any unnecessary distress and Logan would just walk up the driveway, leaving Wade to patiently wait just outside the still running car, on standby incase Logan needed him, but otherwise would let Logan do this by himself. It’s not what either of them wanted, but it’s what Logan needed.
So, swallowing his fear, the older immortal walked up towards the fenced yard and stopped several feet away from the steps, intensely looking at the door.
He looked out at the building where he once lived in, once laughed in, once loved in, once saw his friends and family lay sprawled out dead before the building eventually was condemned in and a wave of emotion hit him.
His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. Then he breathed out his breath and stared down at death, and for the first time did nothing but be…
Big fat tears rolled down his face and he cried, and sat there for a long time, just breathing and grieving, knowing that he could take as long as he wanted and when he was done, when he was ready to come home, his family would be waiting there for him.
It’s a day at a time and each day is a day to restart…
Some days were better than others. Some days Logan would be freely smiling and laughing with his friends and family over some ridiculous board game Wade had manage to find at a thrift store with half its pieces missing and other days all he wanted to do was to crawl into the tightest ball and drink himself stupid with hopes that it’d kill him at last, but he finally had people there, people who would support him through his struggles, and in return for their kindness, their love, he would always try for them.
So, he filled his days with things that would light up his soul. He took Mary Puppins on her morning walks, he gossips about celebrity drama with Vanessa, let’s Yukio and Ellie talk him into watching these Japanese cartoons called ‘Anime’ (he doesn’t really get it but he thinks that’s the point, that they just want to see his reactions and confused faces), he gets together with Dopinder to read comic books, has tea with Colossus, he lets Peter get him obsessed with Candy Crush, and he meets up with Laura to train or for lunch or to just catch up and talk about their weeks. Then, at the end of the day, when all is said and done, he goes home and reads shitty romance novels with Al or explains to her trash TV and he always eventually relents and lets Wade cuddle next to him on the couch while he tries to show him how to play videogames on his Nimtembo? Wait no-Nintendo! Yes, his Nintendo Switch.
And slowly, the good days outnumbered the bad ones. Al said they’d never completely go away, but each day it gets a little easier to live and laugh and love. It’s like-like there’s a light in his soul, and it’s shining through the hole in his heart.