Chapter Text
“Wake me up when it’s over,” His brother growled at James before the guns were fired, and everything went dark, at least for a little bit. He always woke up after a while, usually before his brother, if they were shot at the same time.
This time was no different. He woke up in a metal cell next to his brother, sitting on hay.
He rolled his neck, popping it, before shaking Victor awake in a way that made sure he wouldn’t get stabbed when Victor woke up, which often happened.
“Victor, wake up.” He grumbled, annoyed that he had to rouse his brother after being shot multiple times more frequently now. The older they got and the more wars they endured, the more James noticed how violent Victor was becoming.
James never enjoyed killing, not like Victor did, even when they were young. He did it only when he had to, like when his brother was in danger, which was happening more frequently.
Is there a moment I could pinpoint? Or was he always like this? he wondered as his brother finally became alert.
“You’ve got a rat on you.” James pointed. Victor only grumbled in response.
–
The heavy door swung open, creaking slightly on its hinges, and an imposing figure strode into the dimly lit room. Major William Stryker, dressed in a crisp military uniform adorned with an array of medals, exuded a commanding presence. He looked like a man used to giving orders, and James braced himself for the inevitable reprimand.
“My name is Major William Stryker. You’ve been charged with killing a major senior officer. Is that correct?” The man asked.
“We have some issues with authority,” Victor says.
James rolls his eyes, thinking We? Ha! YOU have issues with authority. He thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“Just keep a lid on it,” James says to Victor.
“Sir,” Victor adds half-mockingly.
“The warden tells me your sentence was carried out by a firing squad at 1000 hours.” Victor starts to play with the rat as the Major speaks. “Tell me, how did that go?”
“It tickled,” James replied flatly, watching as a sardonic smile spread across Stryker's face. *Is he here to find a worse punishment?* The thought unsettled him. He noticed how Victor's resistance only seemed to deepen, and James felt a sinking dread—someone needed to realize that the current approach was backfiring.
“You boys tired of running? Tired of denying your true nature?” Stryker’s voice dripped with insincerity
“What do you care?” Victor challenged, echoing James's own skepticism.
“Oh, I care. I care because I know how special you are. How valuable.” He knelt down, almost belittlingly, in James’ opinion. He rolls his eyes, not buying what he’s selling. “Look, you can stay here, locked up, like freaks of nature, or you can join me. I’m putting together a special team with special privileges. Now tell me. How would you like to serve your country?”
As he glanced at Victor, James could see the spark of intrigue ignite in his brother’s face. Victor’s reluctant interest was unmistakable; it meant that James was dragged into this as well. Discomfort settled in his gut at the notion of siding with someone like Stryker. Arguing was not the best idea, especially with Victor’s stubbornness in play. But even as doubt clung to him, James knew he couldn’t afford to let his guard down around this Major—or anyone else, for that matter.
Ah, Fuck it. I guess I’m joining a superhero team.
–
As they entered, they were drawn to a duel where a skilled swordsman wielding katanas faced an agile opponent who vanished and reappeared at will. Each lunge brought the swordsman closer to landing a hit, creating a thrilling spectacle.
Surrounding them, an enthusiastic crowd cheered, drinks in hand that were definitely not their firsts, clearly enjoying the match.
“Stay. In. One. Place. You. Piece. Of. Shit!” The man with katanas yelled,
“What’s going on here?” Stryker yelled. Everyone immediately fell into a line, dropping their glasses on the floor with a shattering sound.
“Only being the best and most fantastic crew we can, Major Stryker, sir!” The man with katanas yelled, doing a mock salute.
“I leave you soldiers here to go gather recruits, and I come back to a mess of a team, a mess of a mind, and a mess of the training hall!”
“Oh, come on, it’s not like you caught us fighting for another major!” he said with an exasperated face. “You know you’re the only major for us.”
Stryker rolled his eyes at the man’s antics, only yelling, “Clean yourselves up, soldiers! And be back here tomorrow morning at 0600! Early morning training without breakfast as punishment for not doing the training you should’ve been doing while I was gone.”
“Since John and I were technically doing something other than drinking, like fighting and training, do we still have to?”
“Shut up, Wilson.” The teleporter man says, nudging the man.
“I’m just saying! If you're going to punish a whole group of people, when two of them were doing the right thing, don’t punish the two people who were doing the good thing. Like me and John.”
“For once in your life, shut it!” a few members whispered, fearing Stryker’s wrath.
“Wilson,” or the man with katanas, put his hands up in defeat, then crossed them, as Stryker went back to Victor and James, muttering something about sewing Wade’s mouth shut.
When he got to the brothers, he said to the team, “These are our recruits. Victor and James. Wade, why don’t you show James around, and John show Victor around?” He clapped both men on the back. Victor let out a low growl.
“Welcome to the team.” Wade claps. “I’m sure we’re going to get along like a dry wooded area and fire.” He pulls Logan into the tour, amiably talking about the rooms and making jokes, most of which make James chuckle.
Wade smirked and kept joking during the tour, seeming egged on by James’ growing amusement.
“And now the quarters. Everyone has to share a room since there are only so many. It’s like there wasn’t enough sexual tension.” Wade laughs. There were names outside every door.
“Which one is mine?”
“Look for your name.” Wade shrugs.
He sees Victor’s name first. He was paired up with someone named Zero. In the room across from them, James saw his name, “James Logan Howlett”, and next to it was the name “Wade Wiston Wilson”.
“Looks like you’re hanging with me!” he said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you snore?”
“Something like that.” The thought of sharing a room with someone—especially someone he barely knew—wasn’t exactly appealing, even if he didn’t snore (kinda).
“Well, I do,” He says. “I’ll let you get settled in. Unpack everything. Make sure to hide any cocaine or pono in a place I won’t find it, 'cause I will go looking if I feel like you’re holding out on me.”
“...Thanks, bub.”
“No problemo, peanut.” Wade walked away after waving him off.
Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Chapter 2
Notes:
WHATTTTT? Another chapter the next day???
Don't expect chapters every day, I can't do this normally.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Logan was sweating his ass off. He didn’t see why Victor and he also had to get up at the crack of dawn to train before breakfast. But that was the rule. Everyone shares punishments or so said Wade when he’d woken him up that morning.
“Why do we even have to do this?” Logan had groaned, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“To build teamwork and trust, or some shit like that,” Wade muttered, his voice grumpy as he fumbled with his bootlaces. “But honestly, it doesn’t work. It just makes everyone resent the soul who got them into trouble, and that’s usually me. Besides, it’s way too early to think clearly. I prefer to have breakfast before my brain has to kick into gear. But I guess mindless slaughter of training dummies will have to suffice until then.” With that, Wade rambled on, his chatter echoing off the walls as they made their way to the training room, the first to arrive.
One by one, the rest of the crew trickled in, each dragging their own sense of fatigue and frustration with them. As they geared up, they shifted into their training routines, practicing their powers and honing their abilities as a makeshift team. James noticed everyone had powers here and figured them out pretty quickly. Teleportation, expert marksmanship, invulnerability, and electricity manipulation were all powers he saw.
He was baffled by Wade’s power; it seemed to revolve around those gleaming swords he prized so highly. Logan hadn’t yet witnessed Wade in action—the guy was usually too busy cracking jokes and being a general nuisance to anyone who dared to pay him any attention and perhaps the only one willing to listen to the rambling stories that poured from him as he worked.
“You guys ever try to cuddle a balloon? It’s as hard as you might think. You can’t cuddle it too hard or it pops, but you really want to, and it looks so solid, so it’s hard to curb your strength…”
–
“Drawing is so hard. Like, how do people do that? They have so much time that they can just practice and their muscles can just do that, without even thinking about it…”
–
“It would be so cool to have wings. If I had wings, I would always keep them out and show them off,” he said when they finally got to eat breakfast that morning.
“What kind of wings?” James asks and gets slapped upside the head by Victor, who seems to want Wade gone off the face of the Earth.
Everyone groans. “Don’t encourage the chatter.”
“Too late. So I think the best wings are those big, fluffy, white-feathered angel wings, but I’m not going to heaven, so probably a pair of leather bat wings for me then.” Wade jabbered on, talking about all the hypotheticals and levels of coolness. It was clear everyone else, especially his brother, was tuning the man out. But James found Wade’s chatter amusing and interesting. He thought of so many variables for a hypothetical situation, and all of them made sense. It was nice, the way the chatter filled his brain.
–
“Get a good night’s sleep, soldiers,” Stryker says two weeks later.
“Yes, sir!” Wade said mockingly as he feigned a salute, ending it with a flourish. James stifled a snicker, the sound barely escaping his lips before he glanced over at Victor, who shot him a piercing look that clearly communicated, ‘We need to talk.’
So before bed, James met Victor out in the hallway that separated their rooms. “What’s up?” he grumbled, suppressing a yawn.
Victor leaned against the wall, arms crossed, tension written all over his face. “You’ve been getting awfully cozy with that Wade guy,” he growled, his voice low and serious.
“So what? He’s my teammate.” He tried to feign indifference, but a flicker of annoyance crossed his features.
“That you share a room with,” Victor pointedly remarked, his brow furrowing in disapproval.
“The room wasn’t my choice. You have a roommate, too.” James rolls his eyes.
“But you don’t see me getting all chummy with my roommate. Laughing at their jokes, and getting to know them, do you, Jimmy?”
James chuckled, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I don’t think your roommate has ever cracked a joke in his life.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, it’s really none of your business.”
“Jimmy!” Victor sighs. “It is my business, little brother when you start crushing on boys.”
That stunned James because of how accurate it was. His brother had unwittingly hit the nail on the head. “Since when is my business your business?”
“Since we became brothers. The day you killed our father. And the day we swore to always look out for each other.”
“Did I agree to tell you everything, though?”
“Y-”
“No, I didn’t,” James snapped, pulling away from his brother's grip. “You mind your own business, Victor.” He pivoted on his heel, determined to walk away, but Victor wasn’t having it. He tightened his grasp on James’ arm, a fierce look in his eyes.
“Don’t turn your back on me!” Victor barked, his voice low and threatening.
Suddenly, the door to James and Wade’s room creaked open, revealing Wade leaning against the frame with a playful smirk. He mimicked the act of eating popcorn, throwing imaginary kernels into his mouth while pretending to catch them.
“No, no, no. Continue! This is very entertaining,” Wade called out, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he exaggerated his actions, making a mockery of the tension.
Victor let go of James’ arm and growled, “We aren’t done here.”
“I am,” James retorted, brushing past Wade with a mix of frustration and relief. He entered their room, the familiar comfort of his bunk beckoning him. He sank onto the mattress and let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Thanks for saving me, Wade,” James said, grateful for the comic relief his brother had provided amidst the brewing storm.
“What was that about? What kind of brother’s spat made you go and talk to him in your jammies?” Wade asked, and James swore he saw Wade glance down at his bare chest.
Just your imagination, Howlett. Wade isn’t…doesn’t want that with me.
“He thinks you and I are too close,” James sighed, running his fingers through his disheveled hair as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against his palms. A heaviness weighed on his shoulders, an amalgamation of frustration and confusion. “He’s always been the protective type, but this time he really crossed a line.”
Did Wade hear?
“I mean, have you met him—his ‘wonderful personality’ is the reason he has no friends.” A wry smile crept onto Wade’s lips, eliciting a soft chuckle from James. “I mean, what does he mean by ‘too good of friends’? If anything, having friends makes you cherish the present moment even more.”
James turned to Wade, their gazes locked, and for a fleeting moment, everything else faded away. “Thanks, Wade,” he murmured, the gratitude evident in his tone as their knees continued to touch.
He smiled at the man, who smiled back, before shaking himself and climbing the ladder to get to his bed. “Next time I’m going to actually get popcorn,” Wade mumbles.
“Make sure after you’re done saving me, you’ve saved some popcorn. It’s one of my favorite snacks.” James says, settling back into the warmth of his bed covers, a hint of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
Wade chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Hopefully your brother has finally learned not to mess with you, so I won’t have to come to your rescue anymore,” he replies, a teasing lilt in his voice. After a brief pause, he adds with sincerity, “But if things get out of hand, you know I will be there.”
James smiles and falls asleep to the sound of Wade breathing, which turns into snores as his friend falls into a deep slumber.
He knows Wade, and he can never be anything more than friends; it’s not socially acceptable, but James can’t help but dream. Dream of a life where Wade and he could be together, unbothered by everyone.
But he knows that’s not going to happen. The odds are that Wade isn’t into guys, and saying something would ruin their friendship. So he dreams. Dreams about Wade, and a life with him.
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed!
-Seaweed
Chapter 3
Notes:
Yay! New chapter!! Let me know if you see any spelling errors, because this was written while I should've been sleeping lol-
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
James was enjoying the show. A metaphorical show, of course. Victor was fighting with John, and James was sitting at the table, listening to every word.
I should make some popcorn. James contemplated.
Just then, the familiar beeping of the microwave broke his concentration. He glanced toward the kitchen, anticipating Wade's routine of warming up last night’s leftovers for dinner.
To James's surprise, Wade emerged from the kitchen, not with a plate of reheated food, but with a generous bowl of fluffy popcorn. He settled into the chair beside James, placing the bowl between them, the scent of the buttery snack filling the air.
“Popcorn?” Wade offered, a playful grin on his face.
“Always,” James replied, a smile spreading across his own as he reached for a handful.
James felt flattered that Wade remembered and felt those stupid butterflies flutter around his stomach.
Fuck, why do I have tods feel this way?
“This is very entertaining.” Wade laughs.
“Yep.” He says through a mouthful of popcorn.
“Can I call you Logan?” Wade suddenly asked, leaning forward with a playful grin. “I noticed it’s your middle name from the nametag on the door, but I just wanted to double-check before I start using it.”
“You can call me whatever you want, bub.” He says genuinely. “But why not just call me James?”
“I dunno,” Wade said, shrugging his shoulders. “It doesn’t feel right calling you the same thing as everyone else. Plus, it’ll probably drive your brother crazy,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Annoying him is a hobby of mine.”
“Annoying everyone is more like it,” James said, raising an eyebrow and giving Wade a teasing look as he began to giggle uncontrollably.
“You made a joke!”
“I’m funny!” He protests.
“Sure, you are Logan.” Wade laughs as James shoves him slightly, also laughing, face tinged with pink.
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
James covers Wade’s mouth with his hand. Wade promptly licks his hand in retaliation.
“EW! Wade!”
Wade laughs; it’s an infectious sound traveling to James, who also starts laughing.
“I don’t annoy you, right?” Wades asked after they were done laughing.
“You could never annoy me, bub.” Logan might’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he saw Wade go slightly pink.
–
“What’s your power?” James asks one night.
“I don’t have one.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Unless you count being good with my katana if you know what I mean.” Wade wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as James snorts.
“I bet you are amazing with your “katana”.” James snorts.
“Your damn right I am. But seriously, Stryker only hired me because if you put me in a room with a bunch of people wielding guns, armed with just two swords, I can take them all out without getting shot," Wade says. "I was in the Canadian Special Forces for a reason. I was going to exotic places, Baghdad, Mogadishu, Jacksonville, meeting new and exciting people, and then killing them.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“You may have noticed this, but I have a bit of a mouth on me. Got me into a whole lot of trouble. Had to leave. Stryker gave me another chance to put my skills to use.” Wade lements.
“Dyou feel bad? Bout all those people you killed?”
“Not really. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but someone needed to do it. They were going to hurt people, so I hurt them first before they could hurt others.”
“Makes sense. Someone’s got to do it.”
“Yep. Now go to sleep.”
“Alright. Night, bub.”
“Night, peanut.”
–
Knock, knock, knock. James knocks on the door of their room. He knew Wade had taken a shower, but he’d gotten done with training early and was able to retire to his room until dinner.
“Wade?” James called. “You decent?”
“Morally? No. But I’m wearing clothes.” Wade says James rolls his eyes as he walks into the room to see Wade wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
Fuck, he looks so fucking hot.
“Jesus Christ, Wade. Put some goddam pants on.” It is what he says, averting his eyes from the sight in hopes his deep blush would go away.
“Funny, you only told me to put some pants on, not a shirt.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which had James throwing a shirt at him and then some pants.
“Warn a person before you tell them to come in.”
“I didn’t say which clothes I was wearing,” Wade says, pulling up a pair of pants over his boxers.
James looked over to see his lean muscles flexing as he pulled the pants up and put on the belt.
“See something you like?” Wade wiggled his hips, and James flushed profusely. “It’s fine to peak, boosts my fragile ego.”
“I was not peaking.”
“No shame in peeking. Men can be quite attractive, and I know I catch myself peeking at other men sometimes.” Wade says, pulling a shirt over his head. “And I know what I look like.”
Is Wade gay? James hopes.
“Fine, I can admit men can be hot as fuck, but I was still not peeking.”
“You sure bout that?” Wade gets really, really close to James. So close that Wade can see the blush forming on James’ face.
“Wade…I…”
“Yeah, Logan?”
Fuck this. He thinks and grabs Wade’s face, pulling him even closer.
“Whoa, Logie-mhf!” For once, Wade Wilson couldn’t speak because his mouth was suddenly locked in a kiss with James.
James pulled away after a moment. OH shit. I fucked this up! I went too far.
“I am sorry, Wade.”
James starts to pull back even more until Wade chases after his mouth and kisses him again, slipping his tongue into Logan’s mouth. They slowly back up until Wade’s back hits one of the walls in their room.
James kisses Wade into the wall, arms snaking down to pull Wade in at the waist, grinding against him slightly. James let out a small groan into Wade’s mouth after suddenly getting flipped, so Wade was pinning him against the wall.
“Fuck Logan-” Wade pants, but was cut off by Logan kissing him again, hand slipping under Wade’s shirt. He could feel the back muscles that he’d seen earlier.
Fucking hell. I need him right now. He thought as Wade started kissing his neck. However, there was one problem.
“Fuck, door!” James pants. “Wade-door!”
Wade detached himself from James’ neck and looked at the wide-open door to their room.
“Shit-” Wade quickly walked over to the door, shutting it and locking it. “Some things are only for my eyes.” He wiggled his eyebrows at James as he snorted out a laugh, flushing a deep red.
As soon as Wade got back to James, he started unbuckling Wade’s pants while kissing the man, and leading him to the bottom of the bunk bed.
—
“Are we-” James started.
“Together? I certainly hope so since we’ve had sex like 5 times now.” Wade laughs, and so does James.
“I just thought I should ask,” James says, hugging Wade from behind. He sniffs him slightly and then wrinkles his nose. “You smell like shit.”
“Yeah, I’ve been training all day, I probably smell like someone took a shit in a bucket of sweat and dumped it on me. I was going to shower, but…” Wade turns around to face James, pecking him on the lips. “I have an idea for something much more fun.”
“I was thinking I could just take a shower with you.”
“No reason we can’t do both~”
“Let’s get these clothes off you first. I’ll get the shower running.” James kisses his boyfriend, pulls away, and runs the shower in the bathroom.
“Thanks, peanut,” Wade smiles warmly at the man.
Notes:
As always, thank you for reading!
- Seaweed
Chapter 4
Notes:
Thanks for readin'! I know this chapter took a while for me to get out, but in my defense, I was realllllyyyyy busy, so yeah.
Quick warning, guys, this chapter is long and dialogue-heavy. I did take a bunch of the lines from the movie, but I changed around who said what because it fit better with my story.
We are also getting a few POV shifts in this chapter. If I misinterpret someone, I'm sorry.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Soldiers! We have our first mission! The government has finally let us do what we should, and once we complete this mission, I can guarantee there will be many more!” Stryker says to them one day. “Get some rest, soldiers! Because tomorrow, we will be putting your gifts to good use!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” The group says until Wade starts to snicker, his amusement catching everyone’s attention.
Everyone turns to James and Wade, the latter of the duo laughing, and punching James softly in the arm.
“You fucker. I didn’t know you could joke, Lo-Lo!” Wade chuckles, play-slapping James on the shoulder.
“Yes, you did,” James responds with a smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Right, but you just never do—” Wade is cut off as a low growl interrupts him.
“Is there something you would like to share with the group?” Victor growls, his tone serious and commanding, casting a brief shadow over the moment.
“Nah, not really,” James replies with a snort, a cheeky smile still lingering on his lips.
Wade and James are getting too close… I need to find out why… Victor thinks.
–
Wade jolted awake to the frantic thrashing of his bedmate. Logan was thrashing wildly in the narrow space beside him, claws extended and low growls rumbling deep in his throat. He was swiping at the air as if fighting invisible foes, grunting and yelling in distress.
“Logie!” Wade called out, his voice thick with concern as he reached over to shake Logan awake. But the movement only aggravated the situation; Logan’s instincts kicked in, and his claws snagged Wade's arm, tearing through the fabric of his bedclothes and breaking the skin. A thin stream of blood began to dribble down Wade's forearm.
“There you are, Logie-bear. Hey, nightmare?” Wade asked, trying to keep his tone light despite the sting of his injury.
Logan's gaze shifted, fixating on the crimson droplets staining his bone-like claws. “You’re hurt,” he murmured, his voice a mix of confusion and concern.
“Doesn’t hurt,” Wade reassured him quickly, though he couldn't help but feel the warmth of the blood trickling down. “Are you okay?”
“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Logan’s expression darkened, looking down at the bit of blood on his bone claws. “Didn’t I?”
“I’m fine, Logie,” Wade repeats. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry.” Logan sniffles, burying his face in Wade’s neck, and starts repeating, “M' sorry, Wade.”
–
“I love this weapon more than most things in this world. You wanna know why?” Wade says in the plane that morning, sharpening his sword. No one dared ask about the white bandage wrapped around his forearm. When James looked at it, he felt a twinge of regret.
“No,” Victor says immediately, but Wade chooses to ignore him.
“It's memorable. Sure, it's a little bulky to have to get 'em on a plane. But, a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding, they will never, ever forget it.” Wade states, looking up from his blades.
“That’s funny, Wade,” James says.
“I think you confuse us with people who give a shit,” Victor grumbles.
“But it's probably not as intimidating as having a gun or bone claws or the fingernails of a bag lady…” Wade looks over at James, who snickers. Victor’s nails grow longer, and he growls. “Manicure?”
“Victor...easy,” James somewhat soothes.
Fucking hell. Logan thinks. He was about to murder my boyfriend. What does he have against Wade?
“Speaking of easy, Fred got a new tattoo.” Wade gestures to Fred. “I'm concerned.”
“Oh geez, Fred, you just met her last night.” James rolls his eyes at the man.
“I love her.” Fred monotones.
“You love her after one night?” James and Wade say together.
“She's a gymnast.”
“Bradley, take us down,” Stryker commands.
“Are you gonna puke?” Wade checks.
“If we meant to fly, we'd grown wings.” Logan gagged.
“More die driving than flying.” Wade snarks, eliciting a smile from James until they hit some more turbulence.
“How about from empaling?” Victor snarls.
“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Wade raises his sword.
“Do you do anything except be a little bitch?” Victor asks.
“Sometimes I’m a big bitch.” Wade smiles while James snorts.
“Hey, be nice. Or be your approximation of nice.” James mumbles to Victor.
“Gentlemen, wheels down in Lagos, in five,” Stryker counts.
–
The group walks towards a large building, covered in metal sheets.
“Why are we here?” James asks after looking at the building for a couple of seconds.
“All in good time,” Stryker states. “Zero.”
Zero walks confidently into the compound. James heard the yelling and the commotion, causing him to flinch. He watched as Zero plowed the men down with his guns.
“Having fun yet?” Victor whispered to James as he walked in front of James.
“Fred.” Stryker nodded to the tank that someone had gone into during the carnage.
“The tank?” He monotoned.
“The tank,” Stryker answered.
“Yeah, I got that,” Fred says, walking to the tank.
“Looks like your brother went full sabertooth tiger.” Wade gestures up, and James looks up. He sighed at his brother.
“I don’t think they scaled walls like that, bub,” Logan responded as Frank took out the tank in front of them.
“Didn’t have walls to scale back then, peanut.” Wade chuckles as Stryker tells them to move forward. They walk into an elevator and they go up until it suddenly stops.
“Great. Stuck in the elevator with five guys on a high protein diet.”
“Wade-” Stryker tries to warn, but gets interrupted.
“Dreams really do come true.” He continues.
“Just shut it. You’re up next.” Stryker informs. James has to stifle a laugh.
“Thank you, sir.” Wade turned his head slightly, glancing back at James with a playful grin. “You look really nice today.” Then look back at the front of the elevator. “It’s the green, brings out the seriousness in your eyes.”
“Oh my god, do you ever shut up?” Zero groans, leaning against the elevator wall.
“No. Not when I’m awake.” Wade shot back cheekily, his grin widening as he caught James' eye. James couldn't help but snort at the exchange.
“Bradley,” Stryker sighs to the man. “Top floor, please.”
As the elevator jolted to life, its ascent resumed and the fluorescent lights flickered back on, casting a stark glow across the cabin. They approached the top floor fast.
“Time to get to work.” Wade smiles, his voice steady despite the sudden motion. He stretched his limbs, shaking out the tension in his muscles and cracking his knuckles with a practiced ease. The people behind him instinctively stepped aside as the doors began to slide open with a soft ding!
James’ mouth went dry as Wade started to move his blades. Fuck. He swallowed. Each flick and thrust had the elegance of a dancer, fluid and rhythmic, but there was an undercurrent of danger in every motion—stunningly beautiful yet lethal, oh so lethal. As Wade drew the final blow, James could almost picture the wicked grin. He once told him he felt powerful being able to take down a dozen people with only his deadly blades.
Wade looked James straight (or gay, haha) in his eyes. At that moment, James realized Wade had an uncanny ability to read his thoughts, just from his facial expression. Wade winked at him again.
Fucker knows exactly what he’s doing. James thought, trying to fight the horny haze of his brain.
“Okay, you can come out now.” He called to the still-open elevator, sheathing his blades.
“If you didn’t have that mouth on you, Wade, you would be the perfect soldier.” Stryker scowled.
Wade rolled his eyes and whispered to James, who was standing next to him, “Story of my fucking life.” James looked at Wade and could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “And I saw you looking at me with your horny eyes, you like my blades?”
“I like you,” James replied, and he could’ve sworn he saw a flush take place on Wade’s cheeks. “See’n you work is just a bonus.” He wanted to kiss Wade and fuck him right where they were. But he didn’t know how Wade would react.
“Let’s go, you both,” Stryker commanded. “We've got a three-day ride ahead of us. We’ll rest up in a hotel tonight and go early next morning.”
“Hopefully, we’ll get our own rooms for once,” Victor grumbles as the elevator goes down.
“I guess you can this time,” Stryker says. “There is one not far from here, so we’ll walk, but conceal your weapons!”
—
“Good news, soldiers. The hotel gave us rooms.” Stryker says.
“Do we have to share?” Victor asks.
“No. Here are each of your keys. We are all on the 4th floor.” He hands them each a key to their rooms that has a piece of paper with their room numbers on it. “Get some good sleep. We meet back here at 0730 hours.”
Wade mocked Stryker wordlessly, making it look like his hands were talking.
Everyone slowly dispersed to their rooms. Wade unlocked his door and walked in, but was suddenly pushed against the wall by James.
“Don’t you have to get to your room?” Wade asked mockingly. “Or could you just not wait?” He smirked as he was proven right by Logan’s moan as Wade rubbed their clothed dicks together.
“I’ve been horny for you for the past hour.” Logan grinned. “I’m not waiting for another second once you’re alone with me.”
“Oh really?” Wade asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mmhmm.” Logan nodded.
Logan kissed Wade sloppily as he was pushed down on the bed. Wade moaned and rutted up into Logan, who was trailing kisses down his body and removing both of their clothing quickly.
“You always look beautiful like this, baby.” Logan panted as he looked down at Wade from where he was straddling him.
“Jus’ get on wit’ it.” Wade slurred, his words becoming sloppy as Logan ground against him. “Ah- Fuck.” He gasped.
“I thought that’s what we were doing.” Logan grinned.
“Fuck you.” He panted.
“Later. For now, I just want to make you feel good.” He pulled down Wade’s boxers and took him in his mouth.
—
“God dammit where are they?” Victor growled, waiting with the rest of the team at 7:25.
“Easy, Victor, they still got time,” Stryker stated. “But John, go check on them.”
“You got it, boss.” He said and discreetly teleported up to the floor.
Now, which one was Wade in? I think 403. John thought it would be simpler to rouse Wade first, assuming they needed to be woken at all. Once Wade was awake, he could nudge James from sleep if need be. The duo was closer than most thought they would be, including John.
“Wade?” He knocked. No answer. “Wade you awake?” No answer again. Ah, Fuck it, “Wade I’m coming in!” He teleported inside and was met with a sight he never thought he’d see.
It looked normal at first, Wade sleeping soundly, face up. Until he realized James was on top of him, making a strange noise that almost sounded like purring, and the fact that they were both stark naked.
“Nope!” He said and was about to teleport out, but suddenly James had his bone claws at his throat. Fuck .
“Hey, John.” He growled, somehow terrifying despite having his dick hanging out and being a few inches shorter than John.“Mind doin’ us a favor and forget you saw this?”
“Yep,” He said quickly.
“Good, now what are you doing in here?” James asked while Wade unashamedly put his clothes on in the background.
“Y’all got 4 minutes to get downstairs to leave. Stryker wanted me to check on you.” John explains.
“Awwww, look at that! He was worried about us, wasn’t he, Logie?” Wade chimed in, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“I figure I should teleport y’all down after you get dressed,” John added.
The duo quickly changed, and in under 2 minutes, John was teleporting them downstairs. Styker’s group was out the door and on the road.
–
“Tell them that this rock is more valuable to me than his life,” Stryker commands Wade, his voice dripping with intensity as he stares menacingly at the village leader. “Ask him where he found it.”
Wade repeats the question in the language the village people speak. The leader says something back to Wade. They start to converse.
“Wade?” Stryker asks expectantly.
“He says it came from the sky.” Wade shrugs.
After a moment, James adds, “He’s telling the truth.”
“You don’t know the language, James,” Stryker tells him, frustration bubbling to the surface.
“It’s a meteor fragment.” James insists, his voice steady.
“I know what it is!” Stryker retorts, his patience wearing thin. “I want to know where he found it!” he nearly bellows.
“Sir, base wants to know our location.” One of his teammates states.
“Shut ‘em down,” Stryker responds coldly.
“Yes sir,”
Stryker cast a piercing glance at Wade, his voice low and menacing. “Tell him everyone here will die unless he tells me where he found the rock?” he asserted.
“What’s so special about the rock anyway?” Wade asks.
“Do as you are told, soldier.” Styker coldly commands.
Wade exhales deeply, frustration flickering across his face as he turns to engage the man once more. Victor shoots a pleased look at James, who just looks away.
Wade sighs and explains, “He says that it’s sacred.”
“Okay, fine.” Stryker looks at James, then goes to Victor. “Victor.” The man smiles cruelly before grabbing the leader’s neck, who yells in protest.
Chaos erupted around them—the air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the sounds of desperate cries as soldiers ruthlessly targeted the villagers. Amid the turmoil, Victor's eyes locked onto Wade, who was valiantly shielding a terrified villager from Zero’s merciless gunfire.
“VICTOR!” James yelled and ran as fast as he could to catch up. He sprinted through the fray, heart pounding in his chest, and as he reached Victor, he tackled him to the ground just in time. “Don’t even think about it.” He growled as harshly as he could. ”We didn’t sign up for this. Leave him alone. And leave me alone, too.”
“What are you doing?” Victor whispered. “We got something good going here, and you’re ruining it.”
“It’s enough. It’s enough.” He repeated. “We’ve done enough.”
“Who do you think you are? He’s not even a mutant!” Victor snarled. “This is what we do! And Wade fucked it up. Maybe you’d rather be rotting in a hole somewhere till they figure out a way to do it to us. Is that it? Huh?”
“I’m done.” James scowled. He turned to Wade and said, “You coming?”
“Yeah, anything is better than this shithole where everyone hates me, especially with someone who tried to kill me.” Wade grins. He sheaths his blades and walks with James, throwing their tags on the ground.
“Jimmy!” Victor calls, and James turns. “We can’t just let you both walk away.”
“You can and you will!”James snarls at them. He takes Wade’s hand, and they keep walking together.
“Jimmy!” Victor shouts after them. “JIMMY!”
–
“You know where I’ve wanted to go?” Wade says that when they were in the town.
“Where?” Logan asks.
“Canadian Rockies.”
“Then that’s where we’ll go, bub.”
“Ya know peanut, these last 3 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 6 hours, and 9 minutes have been the best of my life.”
“Heh, me too, bub, me too.”
Notes:
The plan changed slightly from what this chapter was originally going to be, but the base plotline still resembles @resident-idoit-simp's post. If you want to know the future of the story, you can look at her post about the rings.
As always, thank you for reading
_ Seaweed
Chapter 5
Notes:
Y'all, I'm watching the movie as I'm writing the dialogue, and I'm only a half hour through the movie :')
I still have an hour of dialogue to write-
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
1982, 6 years later, Canadian Rockies.
As Logan stepped out of the cozy house he had built alongside Wade, he took a moment to breathe in the crisp, invigorating air of the early morning. The sun broke through the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the lush greenery around the mountain. He paused for a moment, letting the gentle breeze tousle his hair.
“Hey Logie-Bear.” Wade smiles, coming up behind him. Wade kisses him on the cheek and gives his boyfriend a cup of coffee. “Sleep well?”
“Bout as good as I can,” Logan replies, taking a sip of his coffee and slinging an arm around Wade’s shoulders.
“And that’s all that matters.” Wade grins, leaning his head against Logan’s.
–
“See you, Wade,” Logan says, kissing his boyfriend, hearing a few of his coworkers whistle and jeer at them, but both Wade and Logan knew it was all in good fun. They’d found out a long time ago that no one was keen to be homophobic to two men who were both built like brick houses. The few that were left had left very quickly.
“Be safe, Lo,” Wade grins, knowing full well that Logan can’t get hurt. He hands him his tools and calls as Logan walks away, “I’ll pick you up at about 5!”
“Alright.” Logan waves as he gets in the car with his coworkers, who pat him on the back. Logan takes one last look at the car with Wade in it.
–
Knock knock knock.
“Show’s over!” Bradley called, hoping they would leave.
Knock knock knock knock.
“I said, show’s over!” He says as he opens his door to find someone he hasn’t seen in a very long time.
“Show’s never over for us, Bradley.” Victor cruelly smiles as Bradley gulps, nervousness showing all over his face.
“Victor…”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Victor asks.
After a moment, he stutters, “Yeah, c-come in.”
Victor walked into the dimly lit room, his shoulders slightly slumped as he let out a long, heavy sigh filled with pity for his former teammate.
Like he gets to judge me! Bradley thinks. I don’t think he’d be doing much better.
Victor taps a few of the light bulbs above their heads as he follows Bradley.
“You know I’ve never said anything,” Bradley gulps, “to anyone about what happened. I’m living a totally different life now, Victor.” He backs up a step. “No need to bring up the past.”
Victor looks up curiously at one of the light bulbs and unscrews it, the light staying on even though it isn’t connected to a power source. The lights flicker uneasily around them, reflecting Bradley’s emotions.
“You know,” He starts. ”I always thought it would be Zero or Wade and Logan who’d come knocking at my door.”
“Yeah, well, they’re next,” Victor speaks low and harsh. Bradley stumbles backward into a chair at those words.
“Next for… what?”
“Same fate as yours.” Victor smiles devilishly before his nails lengthen.
The screams that come from Bradley echo the carnival all through the night.
–
Logan wakes with a wordless yell, sitting bolt upright, in his bed of shredded bedsheets.
Wade wraps his arms around him and whispers in his ear, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Shhhh, it’s okay.” Logan pants, chest heaving, eyes wild, gripping the tattered sheets in his fists. Wade holds him tight until his claws retract. “I'm right here with you. Okay? I'm right here with you.
Logan looks over to Wade and mumbles, “You’re sleeping in one of my flannel shirts.” Logan pulls Wade in close, nuzzling his chest.
“Yeah, you like it?” He runs his fingers through Logan’s thick hair, kissing his forehead and cheeks. He sees that Wade has a small cut on his forearm. He takes his arm and looks at the wound. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but there were flakes of dried blood around the gash.
“I cut you.” He whines. “M sorry.”
“It's nothing. Just a scratch.” Wade shugs, laying Logan down, and settling down on top of him. ”Your tits make the best pillow.” He mumbles, and despite the nightmare he just had, he laughs and kisses Wade.
–
Logan was busy at work, waiting for Wade to pick him up at the end of his shift. It was date night, and he had something special planned for his amazing boyfriend. As he stood there, he caught a whiff of something familiar. Amid the wood and the potent scent of sweaty men, he recognized the distinct smell of Stryker’s cologne. Turning around, he saw a dull blue car pull up, and Major Stryker, along with Zero, stepped out of it.
“Who the hell is this?” One of his coworkers asks.
“Someone from mine and Wade’s past.” He says. “I’ll handle it, Carl.”
“Alright, but if you need some extra muscle, I’m your guy.” Carl offers before getting back to work.
Logan nodded in thanks to the man before grabbing an axe and walking away from where most of his coworkers were, so that if things were to get messy, they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire.
“My god.” Skyker exclaims, amazed, as Logan walks past the duo.”You haven’t aged a day.”
“Clean living.” He calls, taking the cigar out of his mouth.
“You remember Agent Zero?” He gestures to the man in question.
“Still shootin’ first, askin’ questions later?” Logan slowly puts the cigar back in his mouth until Zero shoots it out of his hand.
“Still chewin’ cheap cigars?” Zero mocks.
“Boys, please,” Stryker mediates. He gives Logan a look that clearly says, ‘I want my guinea pig back!’ “I have a job for you and Wade. Speaking of.” Wade and Logan’s car drives up, and Wade comes out and slams the door of the car, walking over to Logan and sliding an arm around his waist.
“We already have jobs,” Logan says.
“Lumberjack? You make what, 18 grand a year?” Zero looks at Wade and says, “Do you even have a job?”
“I do, thank you very much. It’s called What the Fuck Are You Doin’ Here? Bakery. And I volunteer at the old folks’ home.” Wade snarks back.
“Plus, we haven’t had to kill anyone in a while.” Logan mocks.
“Coming close right now though,” Wade mumbles.
“Zero, back to the car,” Stryker commands.
“Attaboy.” Logan jeers, while Wade clicks his tongue. Zero walks back to the car defiantly.
“You know I’m not proud of the way things ended between us.” Stryker starts.
“Conversation’s over,” Logan says, and he and Wade head to their car. “You clock me out?” Logan asks his boyfriend.
“Yeppers.” Wade gives Logan a smile, which drops as soon as Styker starts to call after them.
“Playing Little House on the Prairie just isn’t who you guys are!” Stryker calls, jogging after the men.
Wade turns around, his smile getting thinner the longer he has to deal with him. “And you would know, huh?”
“I would,” Stryker states simply.
“What do you want, Stryker?” Logan gnarls.
Styker hands them a magazine. “Bradley was killed three days ago. Frank, before that.” They look at the newspaper, sharing skeptical glances. “I believe someone is hunting down our old team. As far as we know, Victor is safe.”
I don’t care about Victor.
“As far as you know, Victor could be doing the killings!” Wade exclaims.
Styker ignores him and continues, “But whoever it is has names, addresses-”
Wade shoves the newspaper back into Stryker’s hands while Logan says, “We can take care of ourselves.” They walk to the car and quickly get in.
Stryker goes to stop the car before they leave, saying, “Your country needs you.”
“We’re Canadian.” Logan deadpans as he starts the car and drives off, as Wade flips Styker off.
–
“I’ve always wanted kids,” Wade says as they pass the schoolhouse on their way home.
“Yeah?” Logan asks.
“Family was always an f-word to me, but I always hoped I could change that.” Wade lements. “My father didn’t have a good relationship with my grandfather, and my grandfather hated his dad, and so on. I wanted to break that cycle of bad parenting.”
“My dad sucked too.” Logan looks over at Wade. “Maybe together we can break that cycle.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Wade smiles. “Maybe, but-LOGAN! TREE!” He suddenly yells.
Logan slams on the brakes, and they both lurch forward. Logan hits his head on the glass, shattering it and lodging shards of glass in his forehead.
Logan’s head shoots up, and he looks around. “Wade, are you okay?”
“Peachy baby, but I should be the one asking you that!”
“Wha-”
“Glass is in your forehead.” Wade pulls the glass out of each gash, which quickly heals after. “But the better question is, why is there a tree in the middle of the road?”
“I dunno, bub. I’ll check it out, see if it was cut or just fell.”
“We did have some pretty harsh wind last night.” Wade shrugs and finishes with, “Okay, do your thing, babe.”
While Logan was investigating, he heard a voice he had already heard one too many times that day, “We didn’t get a chance to talk, Wade.”
“Styker-”
“I just wanted to let you know that I know about the tests .” Wade’s mouth went dry. “And I know, you haven't told Logan yet. I’m surprised he hasn’t noticed the smell change yet.”
“Flowers mask a lot of smells. What do you want?”
“We can cure you, Wade, and I just want you to keep that in mind.” Stryker gave Wade a card and walked away. Wade sat there for a moment, pondering.
“Hey, you okay, Wade? The tree had just fallen, and so I moved it as much as I could so our car could pass.” Logan smiles.
“Oh! Yeah! Never better!” Wade shoves his hands into his pockets along with the card. “I was just thinking what Stryker wanted us to do. There’s not much more evil he could do besides making us kick puppies.”
Logan laughed and said, “Let’s get home, I can still smell him on us.”
“Yeah, let's.” Wade shivers.
–
“Why is the moon lonely?” Wade asks one day.
Logan chuckles at his boyfriend. “Why?”
“One of the ladies at the old folks home told me why, and now I’m goin’ to tell you,” Wade says, sipping some tea from his favorite mug.
“I’m all ears.”
“'Cause he used to have a lover.”
“Oh?” Logan tilts his head at Wade, who is staring at the moon.
“Yeah, his name was Que Queatzu or something like that, and they roamed the spirit world together. But one day, another spirit tricked him into leaving the spirit world. And once you leave the spirit world, you can never go back. And so every night he looks up in the sky to see the moon, and howls in pain because he can never see the moon again. That’s why the moon is lonely. But I like to think the moon found love again, and in our world, Que Queatzu knows and feels happy that the Moon moved on.” He explained as he sat down next to Logan, a cup of tea in hand.
“Huh. When you said Que Quea-something, it makes me think of that new prehistoric thing they discovered.” Logan thinks out loud.
“The quetzalcoatlus?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Makes sense, but Que Queatzu thingy actually means The Wolverine.” Wade leans his head against Logan.
“I like that.” Logan mumbles.
After a few minutes of silence, Wade says, I’m going to go on a run tomorrow morning before I open up shop. Can you come grab me and take me to the bakery?”
“Yeah, usual place?”
“Yeah. Thanks, LoLo.” Wade smiles.
–
Logan drove to the usual spot where Wade runs to, to pick him up and take him to his bakery. It was about 3 miles from town, but Wade’s bakery was in town, and sometimes he didn’t feel like running the extra 3 miles.
His bed felt cold without Wade’s heat in the morning, wrapped in his arms under the covers. It was weird, the empty feeling he got when he woke up without Wade, but he figured that after 6 years of sleeping next to someone, it felt weird when they weren’t there.
When he got to the meeting spot, the only this there was Wade’s crumbled jacket lying on the floor off the side of the road.
He must’ve kept going, forgetting that I was going to drive him, and his jacket fell off while it was cinched to his waist, and he didn’t notice. This sort of thing happened often; Wade would leave home, determined to tackle a run with his jacket secured, but by the time he finished, the warmth of the day made it unbearable to wear. So, he’d casually tie it around his hips, where it dangled like a forgotten accessory. Typically, when it fell off, he remained blissfully oblivious, and more often than not, that jacket vanished without a trace.
Logan figured that he was already at his bakery and decided to go return the jacket to him at the bakery and his change of clothes, so he wouldn’t have to work in sweat for the rest of the day, which is what he usually did even if he didn’t pick him up at the spot.
However, when he arrived at the bakery, he was met with disappointment. The familiar door, usually inviting customers in with its warm glow, remained stubbornly shut, even though it should’ve opened 10 minutes ago.
“Sorry, buddy, the bakery’s not open yet. Owner seems to be running late.” One of the townspeople said, patting him on the back.
“Huh.” He thinks for a second.
He must’ve run out of something and had to get it at the town store. I’ll go look for him there. He swiftly locked the car, securing Wade’s jacket inside, and briskly made his way to the store, urgency propelling his steps. As he stepped inside, the familiar scent of baked goods filled the air, but his heart sank when he scanned the crowded baking section and the bustling checkout lines and found no sign of Wade. Panic began to creep in, gnawing at his insides.
Desperation clawed at him as he approached several townspeople outside of the store, each interaction marked by a growing sense of dread. "Excuse me, have you seen Wade?" he asked each passerby, but every ‘no’ and every shake of the head deepened his unease. With each unanswered query, his mind raced with worst-case scenarios, amplifying his worries. The lively chatter of the store faded into a dull roar, and he felt increasingly isolated in his fear as he continued searching.
Eventually, he started calling around Wade’s name in a frantic frenzy. By the time he was done with all that, it was 3 hours later, and Logan was worried. He got into his car and drove to the local police station, hoping for someone to help him find his boyfriend.
“Hi, I’m here to report a missing person.” He said. The offerer sighed and asked for a description. As he described Wade, his anxiety grew more and more. When he was finished with the description, the officer asked some questions.
“How long has he been missing?”
“3 hours.”
“What is your relationship with this person?”
Logan didn’t want to take the chance that he was homophobic, so he gritted out, “He’s my friend.”
“Uh-huh. What is this person’s job?”
“He owns a bakery a few miles from here, Wade’s Deadly Delicious Pool-Cakes.”
“What are Pool-Cakes?” The officer looked up from his notepad, confusion written all over his face.
“It's a cake he invented, and it’s delicious.” He answered quickly. “Now, can you help me find him or not?”
“Our detectives are working on it, but it’s not a top priority,” he said, his voice flat and unyielding. Logan, unable to contain his frustration, stormed out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud. He collapsed into the driver’s seat of his car, fury bubbling to the surface as he yelled, punching the car many times in anger.
His gaze fell on Wade’s jacket lying in the passenger seat, a haunting reminder of what he had lost. Gripping the fabric tightly, he pulled it close, inhaling the faint scent of Wade that still lingered. As he fumbled through the pockets, his fingers brushed against something hard, and he instinctively pulled out a small brown box.
With trembling hands, he opened it, and a wave of emotion swept over him like a tidal surge, tears spilling down his cheeks as he caught sight of the glimmering ring inside. Sobs broke free from his chest as he realized the significance of this box, and the ring inside—Wade had been planning to propose. He cried for his lost love, and the fact that he couldn’t tell me he loved him, one last time.
Victor. He took Wade from him. Logan knew it. And he was going to pay.
Notes:
The ring FINALLY came into play lol-
As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.
- Seaweed.
Chapter Text
First thing Logan did was sniff him out, and he was not surprised to find him at the local bar., seemingly waiting for him.
“VICTOR!” He yelled outside the bar. “VICTOR!” When he didn’t get an answer the second time, he broke down the wooden doors and looked around murderously. He didn’t care that now every eye was turned to him, because Victor had killed the man he loved, and he was going to pay with his life.
“Well, well, well.” Victor drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“Guys, whatever this is,” the bartender started anxiously. “Take it outside.” But Logan didn’t hear, and slowly unsheathed his bony claws.
Everyone ran out quickly when they saw that.
“Why?” Logan snarled at his brother.
“Why?” Victor mocked, and then he started chuckling. “You don’t call. You don’t write. How was I supposed to know about your and Wade’s…relationship? I should’ve known you’d be gay, honestly. And Wade, oof, the guy was a mess. I just put him out of his misery.” His gnarly fingernails grow longer, as the both of them readied for a fight.
Logan’s growl turned into a battle cry and he charged towards the man he once considered family. Victor charged, and went down on all fours, towards Logan and tackled him, hurdling the two out of the bar. Logan landed on his back, with Victor on top. With the wind knocked out of him, Victor grabbed the front of his shirt, nails digging into his skin as he threw him into a pile of stacked logs.
Back might be broken, he thinks, before he feels it heal and gets up. Victor charges at him and slashes at his face. Logan tries to get a few hits in, but Victor punches him so hard he falls to the ground.
“You always were weak,” Victor whispers before he crushes both sets of claws under his foot. Logan screams in agony. “And so was Wade. He barely put up a fight.”
“That-that’s a lie.” He knew even without his blades, Wade would’ve beaten Victor with only minor wounds. Wade and Logan sparred daily. Wade couldn’t get hit, even if Logan tried, and Wade couldn’t hurt Logan. It was fun.
“Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know.” Victor punches him again and Logan blacked out.
–
He wakes up to a ringing in his ears, and a muffled voice, possibly doctors, talking above him. He felt his shirt was open and was slightly confused as to why he was there. Until he suddenly remembers-
“Victor!” He gasps and opens his eyes and sits up. “Where is he?” He grabs a doctor gruffly and asks again, “Where’s Victor?”
“I don’t know who he is!” The doctor yelps as Logan tightens his grip.
“Where’s Victor!” He yells.
“I can help you.”Logan's piercing gaze darted from the doctor to Stryker, who loomed ominously in the doorway like a specter of dread. In a flash, he released the doctor and charged at Stryker, driving him forcefully against the wall, fingers tightening around his throat.
“Six years I’ve been here.” Logan hissed, his breath coming in sharp gasps, the weight of his fury as great as the pressure he was putting on Stryker’s neck. “I had a good life with Wade, and then you show up and everything goes to shit!”
“I tried to warn you two!” Stryker gasped, struggling for air, his voice a strained whisper that barely escaped his lips.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was Victor?!” He hollers into Stryker’s ear.
“I-I didn’t k-know!” He breathes as Logan turns them to the other side of the room still holding his throat.
“BULLSHIT!” Logan yells, fury making him grip Stryker’s neck harder. “You knew, and you chose not to tell us!”
“I swear on my son’s life,” Stryker chokes, “I didn’t…” His voice fades as he loses air fast. Logan lets him go and walks away from the heaving body, stopping only as Stryker starts to wheezily speak again. “Victor’s appetites were becoming too public; I had to lock him up. He felt I betrayed him. Went AWOL. Said he was coming after all of us.”
“You didn’t come to warn me, you came to save your own ass!” Logan yells. He starts to walk away again, plotting his revenge plan in his mind.
“So, what’s your plan, Captain?” Stryker asks as the slimy shit stands up. “You can’t beat him, Logan. You know you can’t.” Logan stops despite himself.
“I’m going to find him, and kill him.” Logan growls, not looking Stryker’s way.
“I can give you the tools to defeat him,” Stryker says, his voice steady as he steps closer, the dim light casting shadows across his determined expression. “And we can still save the others.”
Logan pivots on his heel, his eyes narrowing as he meets Stryker's gaze. “You mean to save yourself, right?” He snarks.
“I promise you two things.” He starts. “You will suffer more pain than any other man can endure, but you will have your revenge. It’s what Wade would want.”
Logan knew that the last part was true. But some part of him felt that accepting Stryker’s help would end badly, but the other opinion was facing Victor, and basing off of yesterday, he wasn’t the most prepared.
“I come with you, I’m coming for blood,” Logan states. “No law, no code of conduct. You point me in the right direction, and then you get the hell out of my way.”
“That’s what I'm counting on.” Stryker smiles wickedly.
–
“I saved your old dog tags,” Stryker says on the way there.
“I want new ones.” He gruffly says.
“What do you want them to say?”
“Wolverine.”
Notes:
The next chapter is going to be a bit wonky, since I'm rewriting the adamantium implant scene to change the rest of the film almost entirely. I might rewrite the chapter after I post it to make the writing better or add/take out things. I'll let you know on my Tumblr if I do that.
Thanks for reading! <3
-Seaweed
Chapter 7
Notes:
Reminder that this chapter is going to be a little wonky because I am almost completely rewriting the metal bones scene in the movie. I'll summarise what I was trying to do in the end notes for all who were confused.
- Seaweed
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
All Logan can hear are the voices of everyone around him as the water fills around him.
“Good morning professor.”
“Good morning Doctor. Are we set to begin?”
“Tanks filling sir. It should take only a few more minutes.”
“Good.”
After a moment, he hears a different person say,
“We can begin now.”
“Begin.”
All James could feel was pain. Sering, burning pain, deep down in his bones. He couldn’t hear much of the voices around him, only felt the pain. Someone was screaming- Wait, that was him.
And then darkness.
–
“Logan! Logan!”
Logan jolted awake, his heart racing as he took in his surroundings. Towering trees loomed overhead, their leaves whispering secrets in the gentle breeze. The earthy scent of damp soil and moss filled the air, grounding him in this unfamiliar setting. He squinted against the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches, trying to shake off the disorientation of sleep.
In the distance, he could hear Wade’s voice echoing through the trees, calling out to him with a mix of urgency and concern.
“Logan!” He looks around to see Wade behind him, but he is impaled through the chest by a metal rod, and his clothes are burned.
“Wade?” He runs to his lover and kisses him. “Wade? Are you dead? Are we dead?”
“Logan, I thought I’d never see you again.” Wade’s form flickers and Logan sees, for just a moment, Wade bald, naked, and scarred. “Logan, they’re going to erase your memories, they’re going to erase us, and use you as a weapon!”
“Wha- Wade, how do you know this?”
“I was dying, I had cancer, and I wasn’t going to make it. Stryker offered me a way to stay alive, by injecting your DNA. and they told me that what you were doing, and I died, fucking Francis, but-”
“Wade?”
“They’re going to erase your memory and turn you into a weapon! Don’t let them! Escape!”
“LOGAN, DON’T FORGET!”
“WADE!”
“RUN LOGAN! ESCAPE!”
–
He only remembered one thing when he came to: escape. So that’s what he did. He got up and started to run through the building he was kept in. Claws grew from his knuckles painfully, but he ignored them, instead using the claws to kill anyone who stood in his way. He was shot at, and it hurt, but the pain only fueled his anger and his drive to GET OUT.
At the end of a tunnel, he went down, covered in so much blood that he didn’t know if it was his or someone else's. He howled his agony and rage as loud as his lungs would allow.
Hearing footsteps, he started running again, until he fell into the open air, plunging into the frigid water of the Canadian North.
He sank immediately, feeling his bones weigh him down to the bottom of the lake. He hears an explosion somewhere above him, and somewhat remembers using his claws to slash at important-looking tanks that spilled fluid behind him as he ran out of the facility.
Was that gasoline? He wonders as he struggles to swim to the surface, the lack of air making his movements frantic in his wrestle against his weight. How have I not died yet?
He suddenly bursts from the piercing cold water and heaves himself onto shore, panting heavily. The crisp wind wraps around his body like he is stuck in an ice cube. He wraps his arms instinctively around his body and realizes when he looks down, he is buck naked.
What is going on? He thinks.
–
As he wandered through the frigid morning air, he stumbled upon a weathered barn, its peeling paint suggesting years of neglect. He rifled through the shadows inside, pulling out a few garments that he quickly put on. They didn’t fit as much as he hoped, but it was better than nothing. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he slipped away into the crisp dawn, anxious to remain unseen.
As he roamed the unfamiliar landscape, his mind raced with questions. Did he have any money waiting for him back home? Did he even have a home to return to? Why was he in a lab? Why is his only memory besides his name someone urging him to escape? He wonders why none of the bullets killed him, or at least made marks. And then there were the tags hanging from his neck—a constant reminder of his lost identity.
Finding a quiet spot in a sun-dappled grassy field, he lowered himself to the ground, the earth cool beneath him. His fingers brushed against a tag that bore the name “Wolverine,” the letters etched into the metal felt foreign yet strangely familiar. Attached to it was a simple ring. It resembled a wedding band or an understated engagement ring, and though the metal was cool to the touch, the warmth of cherished memories flickered somewhere deep within him. He was certain it had been given to him by someone he loved deeply, yet when he reached back into his mind for the memory, it wasn’t there. Only darkness.
He closed his eyes and lay back into the soft grass, which tickled his face, wishing with all his heart that he remembered who gave it to him, or anything about himself. He felt himself start to doze off and succumbed to the tiredness that suddenly plagued him.
–
He was plummeting through an abyss, racing downward with a relentless force, the air rushing past him like a wild rush of icy wind. No ground appeared in the inky blackness that enveloped him, swallowing any hint of direction or safety. Panic gripped him, but he found himself voiceless; no cries of desperation escaped his lips, only the deafening silence of the void. He could feel the weight of nothingness around him, accelerating his descent, a dizzying blur of shadows enveloping him as he fell, faster and faster until-
–
He wakes up with bullets being rained down next to him
What is going on?! He thinks as he runs through the sun-drenched meadow.
“Logan Howlett!” He hears from above him, along with helicopter blades, the smell of the grass and flowers in the field, the microphone feedback in the helicopter, and a million other smells and sounds that his oversensitive senses pick up. “You cannot escape!”
He stops.
He looks down at his hands, which feel so itchy they hurt.
My claws. He realizes.
He wills his metal claws to extend, and he feels a rush of pain as the sharp blades pierce his skin. The pain quickly goes away as the skin heals. He hears the machine gun reload.
“Logan Howlett! Come with us peacefully, or you will be fired upon!” The man with the microphone screeches.
Logan, he figures that’s his name, turns around and lets out an animalistic snarl at the black chopper, brandishing his metal claws.
“Fire!” Logan hears the man yell.
A bullet grazes his cheek, another penetrates his neck and head, one shot strikes his shoulder, and several more hit his back.
He yells, feral and loud, and starts slashing at the bullets with his claws. He has no idea how he knows how to do this; he tries to reach back for the memory, coming up with only darkness, but he makes use of it, cutting the bullets in half before they reach him, and the few that pierce his skin just fuel his rage.
Logan backs up and then runs to the helicopter, still cutting the bullets, and jumps as high as he can, grabs onto the chopper, pulls himself up, and then punches the man who was pelting him with bullets.
As the helicopter spins wildly, chaos erupts inside. Logan attacks everyone in sight—crew members and the pilot alike, which causes the chopper to lose control and plummet toward the earth. Logan manages to leap from the cockpit just in time, his body rolling across the ground to absorb the impact as he hits the soft grass of the meadow below. The helicopter crashes violently behind him, exploding in metal and flames that send debris scattering.
Logan springs to his feet, glancing back only briefly at the burning ruin, knowing that it won’t be long before others come searching for him.
Is this my life now? Running and hiding from everyone who tries to find me? Logan questions, running through the woods near the meadow he was in.
No, I just need to get out of this country or state or- wherever I am. He decides, leaning against the rough bark of an oak tree. Deep down, he sensed the truth that had always propelled him forward despite his memory loss. “I’ll make it on my own.” He gasped. “It’s what I’ve always done.”
Notes:
Finally got this out!! Yayyyyyyyy!
Summary for those who were confused:
Logan goes into the lab and gets the metal coat on his bone, but dies. He goes to the spirit realm (the place with Vannessa in Deadpool 2) for a split second, where he sees Wade, who has also just died by having the pole stabbed through him. Wade tries to explain what happened and urges Logan to escape, but they both get sucked out of spirit realm because of their healing factors kicking in.
Logan wakes up with no memory and only remembers someone yelling for him to escape, so he does. The rest of the chapter is about him escaping. By the end of the chapter, he decides that he will go it alone, knowing insinectually that that's what he does.
Chapter 8
Notes:
Heyyyy, I'm not good at writing torture, so yeah. It's basically the torture scene from the first Deadpool movie.
Chapter Text
Wade was having the time of his life. Okay, that was a lie. Wade was having the worst time of his entire fucking life.
First, he gets cancer. And not just in one place. No, it was in his liver, lungs, and brain. All things he could live without…
Second, he decides not to tell Logan, his immortal, hairy, hot boyfriend, that he was going to die soon. He was going to tell him, eventually, but probably not until he was on his deathbed because Logan would’ve tried to save him, and, well, cancer’s a shitshow, and it claimed the lives of some of the people Wade loved. And he wasn’t going to bring Logan to that show. Wade knew that Logan could most likely handle it, but when it eventually killed Wade, he didn’t want Logan to remember the time wasted getting treatment that wouldn’t work and only drain their bank account. He wanted to remember the time they spent together, when he wasn’t bedridden in a hospital, dying painfully.
Then he made the mistake of accepting Stryker’s offer. They said they could cure him, and he would be back with Logan as soon as it was done. It seemed too good to be true, but Wade took him up on the offer because he was desperate. He knew regular treatments wouldn’t work on him; they weren’t advanced enough yet. Maybe if he’d gotten cancer in 2016, it would’ve worked, but not now in 1982. He still regrets leaving Logan without a word, but Stryker said it was better that way, and like a fool, he trusted him.
–
“I’m sorry that the reception wasn’t warmer, Wade.” Stryker grinned coldly.
“Nah, it's fine, I love it when people manhandle me. But my first request is warmer hands.” Wade jeered. A woman who was strapping him to the table put a gag in his mouth to muffle his speech. “Mmf!”
“Finally, silence.” She sighs.
Stryker sighed and shook his head. He quickly regained his composure and called over another man. “Wade, this is Ajax. He’s going to be helping you during your stay.” Stryker walks away, but not before saying something to Ajaz that Wade couldn’t hear.
“Mr. Wilson.” Ajax starts, reading a needle full of red liquid that looked suspiciously like blood, and injecting another liquid into that. “This is a government-led program, but superpowers, especially healing abilities, are not acquired painlessly. No, no.” He sticks the very sanitary needle into his arm and pushes the fluid into his body. “I’m injecting you with a serum that will activate the dormant gene that causes mutation, if you have one, and will increase your likelihood of mutating a healing factor.”
“Mmf!!” Wade yelps through the gag as Ajax injects him with the serum.
“For it to work, you have to be subjected to extreme stress, the likes of which would be, to put it bluntly, torture. The government doesn’t know about this part, which is why you had to volunteer and sign the agreement not to talk about this. You’ve heard the whole, ‘make an omelet, break some eggs’, bit. Right?”
Wade could feel the terror in his stomach grow as Ajax smiles coldly and maliciously.
“Well, I’m about to hurt you, Mr. Wilson. We’ll start small, but if it doesn’t trigger your mutation, we’ll go bigger. And it keeps going up and up until you mutate or die.”
“Mf somf mh ym tef!” Wade tried to speak. “Mf somf mh ym tef!”
Ajax nodded to the woman who took the gag out of his mouth.
“Thank you, thank you!” He breathed, then turned to Ajax. “You have something in your teeth.” Ajax chuckled dryly and walked away, but not before checking his teeth in a mirror. “Hahaha. Make you look. Hey, is Ajax your real name? It sounds suspiciously made up. What is it really? Steve? Mark? Trevor? Kyle? Elliot?”
“Joke away.” Ajax dares. “The one thing that never survives this place is a sense of humor.”
“We'll see!” Wade chirps.
“All yours,” Ajax smirks at the woman above him.
The woman, who was chewing a matchstick, smiles, then punches him in the face. Wade blacks out.
–
Wade tries not to remember what happened after that.
He remembers bits and pieces, like when he was dunked into thick, molasses-like liquid. He remembers when he was pulled and yanked, poked and prodded by contraptions that would have shamed the Spanish Inquisition.
He was sawed, compressed, slap-chopped, and bled. And still, no mutation.
Through it all, he remembers Ajax’s words.
“The serum I'm injecting you with targets any mutant genes lurking in your DNA. Adrenaline acts as a catalyst for the serum, so we must subject you to extreme stress. If you're lucky, the mutant genes will activate and manifest in a healing factor. If not, we'll have no choice but to keep hurting you in new and different ways. Each more painful than the last. Until you finally mutate. Or die.”
Chapter 9
Notes:
I needed an escape from the reality that is: Being an American citizen in 2025. So you get 2 chapters in one day. Yippee.
Chapter Text
“Dyou have a bucket list?” Cunningham asked Wade a few days after he came to the workshop.
“It’s more like a fuck-it list: Naked tandem base-jumping with the WNBA's Sacramento Monarchs, sparking up a spliff with the Olympic torch.”
“Hey, pass it to me when you're done.” Cunningham laughs dryly. “Giving Meredith Baxter Birney a Dutch oven.”
“No, receiving a Dutch oven from Meredith Baxter Birney.” Wade corrects as Cunningham chuckles again.
Cunningham suddenly goes silent. “Making my kids banana pancakes, just one more time.”
“Logan. I want to see Logan again.” Wade whispers.
God, I wonder how he’s doing. I shouldn’t have left him. Wade thinks solemnly. I should have manned up and told him.
“Who’s Logan?” Ajax asks as he strides in.
“We-we were just-” Cunningham starts.
“It's OK, I encourage distractions. Can't have you giving up on us, can we now, little worm?” Ajax smirks cruelly. He walks over to a station a bit away from Wade and starts messing with some viles.
“Don't take that shit, Cunningham! How tough can he be? With a name like Francis?” Wade smiles mischievously as Francis suddenly stops what he was doing and turns around. “F-R-A-N-C-I-oops.” He spells as the man walks over. With as much freedom of motion as he has in one hand, Wade waves a stub of paper at Francis. He snatches it from him and stares hard at Wade with menacing eyes.
“You are so relentlessly annoying. Shut the fuck up, or I'll sew that pretty mouth shut.” He threatens.
“Uh, I wouldn't do that.” Wade starts, “Here's the problem with round-the-clock torture. You can't really step it up from there.”
Francis’s expression turns hard and cold. “Is that what you think?”
–
“Seems your genes are as stubborn as you.” Francis starts as he and Angel strap him into a tube. “But we can still increase your suffering.”
Wade, if he strains his neck just right, can make out various wires and tubes running out of the capsule. They snake away, linking to oxygen tanks, intricate dials that flicker with life, and a brain and heart monitor pulsating rhythmically.
“We reduce the oxygen in the air to the exact point you feel like you're suffocating. If you start to pass out and your brain waves slow, we turn up the O2. If you catch your breath and your heart rate slows, we turn it back down. And we leave you. Right. There.”
“And I thought you were dicks before this.” Wade breathes before they close the tube. “I can’t wait to get out of here and see Logan again.”
“See, that’s the thing, you aren’t seeing Logan ever again.” Francis grins. “We are going to sell you to the military.”
“Canadian or American?”
Francis ignores him and continues. “Even if you did escape, he’s not going to remember who you are. Stryker wiped his memory clean after he implanted adamantium over his skeleton.”
“What, why?”
“Logan thought you were killed by his brother, so he volunteered for an experimental program to get revenge for you. How did you think we got his DNA?”
“I d-didn’t know that was his DNA.” Wade stutters.
“Wait! You actually have something in your teeth now.”
Francis only chuckles dryly and snarks, “Enjoy your weekend.”
“Hold on? WEEKEND?”
–
He was drowning, wait, there was no water. His mouth was wide open, trying to get as much air as he could, but it wasn’t working. He could feel his body shaking; was that because of the oxygen deprivation? Eyes opening and closing rapidly. He could feel his body changing, cancer and scar tissue spreading all over his body. His hair on the top of his head leaves him, and he looks into the plastic chamber, concentrating on his reflection.
He yells to the heavens as he looks at his new reflection.
–
Click.
“Hello, Wade,” Stryker says as Wade takes a lungful of air. “It seems the treatment has worked.”
“Oo. Someone lost his shot at homecoming king.” Francis exclaims beside Stryker.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!” Wade growls.
“I’ve cured you, Wade,” Francis explains. “Your cancer cells are more aggressive than ever. Dividing and metastasizing at a fantastic rate. But the cells have inalterably changed. They're no longer destructive, but productive, selectively targeting and replacing damaged tissue.”
“You f-fucking sadistic-” Wade starts.
“Remember, you chose this,” Stryker said, a chilling smile playing on his lips. His eyes glinted with a mix of satisfaction and malice as he turned to gaze at Francis. “He’s all yours again, Ajax.” With that, Stryker strode away, his footsteps echoing ominously in the empty room.
“Now I’m going to shut you in again. Not because I have to, but because I want to.” Francis whispers, leaning close. Tears start to form in Wade’s eyes. “Check his straps, Angel.” He orders.
“God, you smell disgusting.” The woman grunts as she checks him, chewing on her match, as usual. He bashes his head against hers, grabbing the match in his mouth as it falls from hers. He holds it there even when she just about punches him.
Francis stops her, chuckling. “Easy Angel. I think he’s earned that, don’t you? You can go now.” She walks away, and Francis turns his attention to him again, leaning down and whispering, “What’s my name?”
For once, Wade didn’t talk.
“Thought so.” He closes the lid and starts the machine again. Wade feels the choking feeling again, but he ignores it to the best of his ability. He spits the match out of his mouth and into his hand. He lights it and tosses it into the O2 vent. It almost goes out, but then the fire turns into an explosion with Wade at the center.
He somehow survives, with no clothes on because they burned off, and waits. Until the moment comes.
He runs to Francis, smacking him in the head with a fire extinguisher, and rams into him, pushing both of them into a metal rod that was exposed with the explosion.
“Fuck you, Francis,” Were his last words before he felt the world go black.
–
Wade was falling, falling, falling, until he was in a forest. Everything was white, blinding white, but he could make out the trees and the light silver dirt. He looked like himself again, in a white shirt and jeans, though they were singed, but he was impaled with a metal rod that was connected to the trees.
He called out, somehow knowing he was here, “Logan! Logan!” He spots him in the distance and calls again as loudly as he can. “Logan!”
Logan spots him and goes down on all fours and runs to him, kissing Wade passionately. “Wade? Are you dead? Are we dead?”
“Logan, I thought I’d never see you again.” Logan goes in for another kiss, but he knows they won’t be together for long, so he has to tell him. “Logan, they’re going to erase your memories, they’re going to erase us, and use you as a weapon!”
“Wha- Wade, how do you know this?” Logan looks at him with his dark brown eyes, really looks at him.
“I was dying, I had cancer, and I wasn’t going to make it.” He tries to explain. “Stryker offered me a way to stay alive by injecting your DNA. And they told me what you were doing, and I died, fucking Francis, but-” He felt himself waking up.
“Wade?”
“They’re going to erase your memory and turn you into a weapon! Don’t let them! Escape!”
“LOGAN, DON’T FORGET!”
“WADE!”
“RUN, LOGAN! ESCAPE!” He yells before Logan is yanked from his grip once more. “Please remember,” he whispers before he is yanked out of the dream.
Chapter Text
Wade wakes up in a pile of ash, next to Francis’s charcoaled body.
I was dead. He thinks, feeling his scarred chest, but the metal rod was gone, and so was the hole it left.
Yes, we were.
Wade looks around quickly, but no one is there except for him.
Who the fuck are you?
A manifestation of your brain.
So am I!
Okay, this is weird. Can either of you tell me what happened?
OO! OO! Can I tell him?
I suppose you can.
YAY! So, after you got your powers-
These are healing, super strength, and super agility.
Yeah! And died, your brain got all outta wack, and we showed up!
So you two are my brain, just talking back to me?
It’s our brain now!
Yes, it is. I assume we are here to help you, somehow? But seeing as we are a manifestation of your crazy brain, I doubt we could help you very much.
“Okay,” Wade sighs as he rubs the ash off of himself.
So, what do I call you guys?
Call me…yyyyYellow!
Really?
Yep!
Yellow? Okay…
You can call me White.
Alright White. Sure. What do we do now?
Get out of here. White exclaimed, and at the same time, Yellow screeched, Kill Stryker!
Probably find some clothes too. White added, noting Wade’s shiver as the wind kicked in.
Okay, I think White has the most logical thing to do.
Awwww. Yellow pouted. Can we kill Stryker later, though?
Ohhhh yeah, Stryker is high on our kill list.
But to kill Stryker, we need weapons. And a bank account.
And a kickass costume! Yellow added, and White didn’t protest.
How about this: we get out of here, get to my house and pack, move to the US, find work, get money, and then we kill Stryker?
That works. White nodded.
FUCK YEAH! Yellow yelled.
–
Getting to the house was the easy part. Packing everything up, was the hardest part.
One he got some clothes on, he wandered around the house for a few hours. He didn’t want to sell it, it would do him well to have a safe house if everything fell apart, and he didn’t want anyone to live in it except for him and…Logan.
Dammit! You’ll only make yourself sad if you think about Logan.
And how much you miss him.
Unhelpful Yellow!
What are we going to do with the house?
I dunno. I’m open to ideas.
We could rent it out. Or sell it.
No! We just told the readers we weren’t going to do that.
No, you said you didn’t want to do that.
Same thing!
We could just…live here. Instead of moving to the states?
No… too many memories of Logie-bear.
I think we should move.
How about we keep the house, don’t live in it, don’t rent it out, and we keep it in this condition. We keep our extra stuff here, and Logan’s stuff. We come back every couple years to check on it and fix it up.
Okay.
Sounds good to me!
—
Over the course of a couple days, they picked out an apartment in New York, packed up all their necessities, including the food left in the fridge, all their clothes, one photo of Logan, and one of himself and Logan.
It was hard, leaving everything behind. But, not as hard as it was being there without Logan and knowing that he was never going to be there with Logan again, or see Logan.
He didn’t hold out hope that Francis was lying. He would tell Wade lies, but Wade knew he was lying. He had this sense of knowing when people lied to him. It made him really good at poker, but it was also useful when he was a fighter. That’s how he knew Francis wasn’t lying. Logan was going to has forgotten him.
It hurt, deep inside his soul, knowing this fact. Even if he saw Logan again, Logan wouldn’t know who he was.
We’ll make him remember!
No, Yellow, we have to move on.
But I don’t want to! I want to find Logan and make him remember! Yellow yelled in his mind defiantly.
No. He thought. That’s not how this story is going to go.
Hmf! Yellow pouted, like a toddler put in time out, and was trying to give everyone the silent treatment.
—
He bought a campervan for the trip and packed it up. Yellow was whining in his head the whole time about how they could make him remember, and they shouldn’t leave the house.
Wade didn’t listen. He just drove. And drove. Sometimes he stopped for gas and food. Other times he stopped to get some sleep and then he would keep driving, driving away from his problems, and away from his memories with Logan, for it hurt to think about his Logie-Bear knowing he could never remember him.
Chapter 11
Notes:
This takes place about 18 years later! I wanted to show Wade's relationship with those he loved, so you get this chapter!4
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO LEFT COMMENTS & KUDOS!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Weasel considers himself very accustomed to Wade’s drunkenness scale, having been friends with him for about 10 years.
Bottle 1: Wade gets spacey. He’ll be in the middle of a sentence and just stop talking for a bit, and then start talking again. Or he’ll be in the middle of laughing, and then forget what the joke is.
Bottle 2: He gets VERY HONEST. Not even joking-honest, he will turn to people and tell them exactly what he thinks about them. It’s caused many bar fights over the years.
Bottle 3: Wade starts to talk normally again, but it is in different languages. He knows about 13 because his merc work takes him all over. He will be talking in French one second, Japanese the next, and ending the sentence in Icelandic.
Bottle 5: He starts to dance. Just dance. No music would have to be playing, and he would just be dancing.
Bottle 6: Wade gets loud. Really loud.
Bottle 7: He starts singing. Like he’s in a musical or some shit.
Bottle 8: Wade likes getting into staring contests with others, yapping the whole time, and he somehow always wins. After this, Weasel usually calls a cab for Wade to take him home. But on occasion, he lets Wade get to
Bottle 9: This is when Wade gets quiet. He looks like he’s contemplating reality or his life choices.
He has never met a Wade who has drunk 10 bottles. Until today.
“I miss him, Weasel. I miss him a lot.” Wade slurred. “I was going to propose. And now I’ll never see him again.” His cheeks were wet with tears. “I haven’t seen him in 18 years.” He sniffed. “We were going to start a family. We were thinking about adopting. But now I’ll never see him again.”
Weasel didn’t know who ‘he’ was, but he knew one thing.
“Okay, Wade, I think you’re done with drinks for today,” Weasel states, taking the half-full bottle away from his friend, who was sniffling, head in his arms.
Despite what most might think, he does care for Wade. Not just anyone would put up with Wade’s endless rants about everything and nothing. He doesn’t listen 100% of the time, but he listens when it matters. Weasel makes sure Wade gets home after a hard day. Pours his drinks just how Wade likes them before he asks, because he can tell that Wade needs it.
He knows Wade, and he’s grown fond of the Merc With a Mouth.
Weasel calls Nessa and explains the situation, and drives Wade home. He also calls Althea and tells her why Wade isn’t coming home.
The car ride was interesting. He hasn’t seen Wade cry much, and when he has, it wasn’t for very long. This was the most he’s seen Wade cry, and the longest he has ever. And through sobs, Wade tells Weasel everything he regrets not doing with ‘him’. The most repeated one was something close to, “I wish I had told him I loved him. That I had cancer, and lived out my last days with him. I wish I hadn’t taken stupid Stryker up on his offer. I’m glad I killed him.”
Wade doesn’t talk much about what happened to him. He knows as much as Vanessa does. That Wade had sudden terminal cancer, he’d accepted an offer made by one of his old officers to cure his cancer; the treatment made it so that he couldn’t die, but it also mutated him so he looked like what he looks like now, and he killed the officer a year after meeting Weasel.
He has never mentioned someone that he’d loved before the treatment.
“I wish I could see him in person one more time.” Wade sobbed. “My peanut.”
When they got to Ness’ apartment, she opened the door and took Wade inside.
“Thanks, Weasel.” Wade hiccups as he stumbles inside.
“Next time, don’t drink so much.” Weasel snarks, trying to cheer Wade up.
It seems it does because Wade replies, “Next time, don’t let me have so much.”
“I’ll make sure he gets some rest,” Vanessa assures him, and adds. “I’m grateful, and I’m sure Wade will be too in the morning.”
“Make sure he remembers to tip me tomorrow.” Weasel smiles as Vanessa closes the door.
He’s got some explaining to do tomorrow. Weasel thinks, sighing.
–
When Vanessa got the call from Weasel and heard what was happening, it wasn’t like she understood; she just knew what to do. She knew Wade was having a bad day, but she didn’t know why. She wanted to, but she figured Wade didn’t want to talk about it.
“I miss his tits, Ness.” Was the first thing Wade told her from the couch when she got back from getting him some water. “I miss the way he snarled at people he hated. I miss my peanut.”
“He sounds amazing, and you can tell me about him tomorrow, but right now, you need water and rest.” She lightly scolded him. She coaxed him to drink the water she gave him and to put his head on the couch arm.
“I wish you could meet him, but I can’t even meet him.” He mumbles. “I think he’d approve of you.”
“Is that right?” She softly spoke, rubbing his hairless head.
“Mmh.” Before long, Wade began to snore softly. Vanessa chuckled as she filled up his water cup and placed it on the coffee table. She took off his shoes and set them to the side. Then, she grabbed a blanket and covered his large body with it.
A few minutes later, she went to bed, but not before checking on Wade. He was still sleeping, but was mumbling incoherent strings of words. It was in English, as far as she knew, but it was random words strung together that didn’t make any sense. The only words he’d repeat were “Logan” and “Peanut”.
Smiling softly at her friend, she rubbed his head again, soft and slow, and went to bed.
–
Althea didn’t know what was wrong with Wade, but she knew it was bad. It didn’t sound like a pain day; it sounded sadder and angrier.
The day started like most, with Wade coming back in the early hours after a night of Deadpooling, as he called it. Wade fixed breakfast for them, took a nap while she ate. They watched TV together, with Wade describing what the characters were doing and providing commentary.
If she thought about it, things started to go bad around noon. Wade was silent. Wade is never silent.
It continued until nightfall when Althea asked what was wrong, and he said, in a small voice, “The canon events are unfolding.”
“What do you mean, sugar?” She asked, because what the fuck did that make no sense.
“Turn on the news.” He requested.
“I’m blind! I don’t know where the remote is!” She refrained from cursing at him purely because she could tell he was having a bad time.
“It’s on your 1 on the coffee table.” He quietly told her.
She reached for the remote and felt for the right buttons to turn on the news.
“I was right.” Wade was suddenly behind the couch and subsequently behind her.
She yelped in surprise, yelling, “Don’t sneak up on me, fucker!”
“Sorry. I thought you could see me.” He replied, still in that small voice.
She sighed and listened to the news on the TV.
“I’m going out, Al. Don’t wait up.” He says suddenly. She could hear the rustling behind her.
“Okay-” She was cut off by the slam of the door.
Okay, that was concerning. She thought.
When she got the call from Weasel, telling her that Wade would be staying the night at Nessa’s because he’s too shitfaced to make it back to their apartment, her concern grew, but she didn’t question it.
Althea knew that Wade wasn’t an idiot. He’s probably the smartest fuck in the room at all times. She’s lived with him for 5 years and heard it all from him. About how nothing is real, and they are all just characters in a fanfic, and everyone is at the mercy of the author. She knew there had to be some truth. How else would he know her name was Althea, and she was okay with being called Blind Al before she told him?
All that being said, she didn’t know exactly what “Canon events are happening” means, but she could take a guess. \
But it didn’t matter because whatever it meant hurt Wade deeply. And she would be there to listen when he was ready to talk about it. Whenever that may be.
Notes:
FYI, Althea is about early-40s in this chapter, so she won't be dying in this from old age.
COME TALK TO ME ON TUMBLR (@Seaweedmakesart) PLEASE I NEED MORE FRIENDS!
Chapter Text
It’s been 20 years since he saw Logan. Ever since his freak-out 2 years ago, he tried his best to get over Logan.
It isn’t healthy.
I don’t know. I think we should keep pining for Logan.
No, White is right, I need to move on.
But Wade couldn’t. He tried desperately to move on. He went on dates, he hooked up with people, but all he could think about was Logan. Weasel compared it to a wife whose husband died in a war.
“Thank you so much.” Wade deadpans.
But it all came to a head when he was approached by one of his exs.
Rinnngggg .
“Wade! Get the door!” Al yelled from her room.
“Alright, crabby-pants!” Wad yelled back, getting up to get the door. He opened the door to see Carmelita Camacho. They were together for about 10 months until they mutually broke up. Wade took that as a sign that he was hopeless and stopped dating after that. “Carmelita.”
“Hello, Wade.” She says.
“Come in.” He invites. She goes to sit on the ancient couch, and it creaks softly. She smiles softly at him. “What’s going on, Carmelita? You wouldn’t come find me if it wasn’t important.”
“You know me too well, Wade.” She sighs. “I’m pregnant, Wade.”
“What?” He gaped at her. “Carma-”
“I’m not asking for financial support or expecting you to be in our lives.” She explains. “I thought that you would want to know that you have a kid out there, and if you want to, I think they would want to know their Pop.”
“Carma, I don’t know what to say.” He answers honestly.
“And you don’t have to.” She assures. “Due date is on November 12th. You can decide then. I do hope you’ll be a part of your child’s life.” She slowly gets up and walks to the door.
“Really?” He asks as he walks her over.
“Really.” She responds as she walks out the door.
–
He got a call from Carmelita on November 11th, asking if he would drive her to the hospital. Wade could hear the hope that he wouldn’t refuse in her voice. He told her he’ll be over soon and drove to her house, picking her up, and driving her to the hospital.
She didn’t go into labor until late the next day, and it was long and grueling for Carmelita. He was there the entire time, even while she was clutching his hand so hard she drew blood, but it healed as it always does.
With one final scream, ear-piercing and shrill, and a hold on Wade’s hand, the baby was born.
“It’s a girl,” Wade breathed to the new mother, looking at his child with a look of amazement.
The doctor cut the umbilical cord and handed the baby to the new mother.
“She’s beautiful.” Carmelita gasped. She holds her baby for the first time. “Hello, Eleanor.” She smiles brightly as Eleanor Camacho grips her finger tightly. “Wade?”
“Mmmh?” He looks over to her from his place next to her, looking down at his beautiful daughter.
“Did you make your decision?” She asks as she soothes the crying baby.
“I-I,” Wade gulps. This was a big decision, and a very dangerous one considering his line of work, but one look at his little girl’s face and he knew he couldn’t live without her in his life.
Think about this, Wade. We live a dangerous life, with many enemies.
I know this is the right decision, White.
Plus, if you ever need help parenting, you have us!
Sure. Wade thinks as he looks at Carmelita, giving her the most serious face he has ever. “I want to be in her life as much as I safely can.”
Carmelita didn’t say anything. She just smiled and wordlessly gave Eleanor to Wade, who gingerly held her.
“Hello, Ellie.” He smiles. ‘Ellie’ looks up at her father and imitates his smile. Wade feels tears start to form in his eyes. “I love you, Ellie. Always and forever. I promise.” He vows as a tear drips down his face.
Notes:
I thought it would be fun to add Ellie to the story.
Chapter 13
Notes:
Hello, I'm alive.
As a celebration, have a chapter!
Chapter Text
Fucking Hell. Logan thought, sighing at Rouge. She was currently begging him to stay with her and the rest of the X-Men.
“Please, Logan, pleasseeeee.” She begged, giving him her best please face.
“No,” He firmly said, but then saw the look on her face, and his features softened instinctively.
Damn it. He thought. The damn ‘Please face’ gets me every time.
“You can’t keep using your please face to get me to do stuff you want!” He exclaimed, ruffling her hair.
“So that means it’s working?”
“Only slightly.” He thinks for a moment before telling her, “How about you come with me this time?”
“Really?” She excitedly asks, practically jumping up and down.
“Sure, kit.” He says. “Pack your bags, we’re going back to Canada.”
–
Canada is warmer this time. Rouge realized as they drove through the forest.
She was clutching Logan’s waist tightly as they rode on the motorcycle he stole from Scott. She took in the scenery around her: tall trees, a dirt road, and the sound of rushing water near her. As she took in the terrain around her, she looked back at Logan, who’d become her father figure.
“Pa!” She yelled over the rumble of the motorcycle. “Remind me where we are going again?!”
“You wanted to know more about me!” He yelled back. “Well, I do too! We’re going back to the facility I escaped. See if it can jog anything from my memory.”
–
Rogue was sitting in the truck after being found. Logan was sitting next to her, driving the car.
“Are those dog tags?” She asked. She then spotted something else on the chain. “Is that a ring?”
Logan quickly tucks them both into his shirt.
“You ask a lot of questions.” He huffed, seemingly annoyed at the 11-year-old.
“Can’t a girl ask questions?” She smiled. Logan looked back at her, and his tough exterior softened, just slightly.
“Can’t answer questions I don’t remember the answer to.” He looked back at the road with a sad expression.
–
When they got to the facility, Rogue jumped off immediately and took off her helmet to get a clear look at the establishment. It was overgrown with vines, moss, and other plant life, covering it to the point that it was almost completely hidden except for a small doorknob that most people wouldn’t see or notice.
“That’s weird,” Logan states, moving the vines away from the hidden door.
“What?”
“This place was completely destroyed when I got out,” He explains. “And the nature couldn’t have grown over this fast. Someone must’ve placed the plants here.”
“Which means that the faculty is in use, and someone doesn’t want it to be found,” Rogue concludes as Logan nods.
“Let’s investigate.” Logan smiles amimalisticly.
–
They go into the facility after Logan punched the code beeper to get the door open.
“Suddle Logan,” Rogue smirked while Logan rolled his eyes.
“Stay out here,” he said. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” Rogue didn’t protest and helped him get the door open. They opened the door as quietly as possible, and Logan walked in, tiptoeing all the while. He wandered the long corridors, Logan remembering his escape all the while, but nothing before.
Why was I here?
He tried to remember, but he couldn’t.
Logan hears a crying noise coming from one of the doors. It was muffled, mostly, but Logan could still hear it. He takes off the handle of the door and goes in.
Inside was a little girl, no older than Rogue, with a striking resemblance to Logan himself. She looked up quickly, wiping her tears.
In a small, shaky voice, she asked, “Are you hear to take me away for more tests?”
“No!” He exclaimed quietly. “We’re taking you with us.”
She looked at him with stars in her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes. Let's go,” He reached his hand out, and the little girl took it. “What’s your name?”
“X-23.” She spoke quietly, like she was afraid he would hurt her. “But my mom calls me Laura.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was born here. My mom got implanted with my dad’s DNA and gave birth to me.”
“Who’s your father?” He asked as he led her outside the compound.
“I don’t know his real name. They never told me.” She sniffed. “They call him Weapon X, or Wolverine.”
“Weapon X?” He gasped, and knelt down beside her. “Are you sure, Laura?”
“Yes.” She looked hopeful for a second. “Do you know him? He might be in danger.”
“I-I’ll explain it you you later. Are there any others, Laura?” He asked.
“Only one. My sister Gabby.” She pointed in the direction of a cell. “Can we get her out, too?”
“Yes, just lead the way, Laura.” He said, and the little girl led her through a maze of cells until they got to what looked like a very sterile and bland nursery room.
“Laura, how old is your sister?” Logan gulped.
“3.” She stated, punching the passcode key to the door, which opened to reveal a small child sitting on the floor.
“Laura?” The child gasped in a babbly voice and ran to her.
“Hi, Gabby.” She kneels down and picks up the small child. “This nice man is taking us away.”
“Awayaway.” Gabby babbled in Laura's arms.
Oh dear.
Nigel_trauer on Chapter 5 Mon 07 Jul 2025 08:50PM UTC
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