#i usually prefer taller logan but it just Makes Sense like this

[mvrphysart]

c2 with Janus and Logan? perhaps sneak Remus in there too

LOVE these three

from this ask game

[daemyiel]

A/N: it has been yonks since I've been on this account, as in actual years. Anyway here is a fic no one asked asked for, and i guess request are back open

Current obsession wolverine especially agnst💛

Logan howlett angst, set after x-men 3

1 swear word. 1,846 words

I wrote half of this and then got writers block. Saw this at like 2am and it made me finish it @stxrddst cheers for the inspo

Self proof read so be prepared

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Logan smirked as he heard the familiar CLANG echo around his head. The cocky little shit that thought he could take The Wolverine, smile drop off his face in an instant. He screamed as he lifted his hand up and saw his right index knuckle pushed further up his hand. Logan stood from his barstool and turned grinning down like a wolf to a sheep. "You know, a hit to the back of the head is quite a cheap shot, bub." He slurred slightly but still working a slight threating edge. The slimly little man trembled as he looked into the taller man's cold blank eyes and scarpered.

Logan rolled his eyes, sat back down and ordered another whiskey. "You always find 'em" chuckled the bartender, pouring whiskey over ice. "And you never make a mess, that's why I keep serving ya." Logan hummed in response and the bartender, Benny, left to serve leaving the mutant alone.

He's been feeling very alone lately. He usually didn't mind solitary, prefered it actually. But recently he's been lonely. Even in a room full of people. This was a new feeling for him, it scared and confused him. So he, in he's own sense, 'took control' by choosing how much he drunk tonight, which was more than usual.

The mansion felt so empty to him. Echoes of ghost was at every turn for logan. He thought he had learned his lesson about attachments and loosing people, but he had never felt so accepted and at home than he did at the school, despite how distant he acted.

He was still mourning Jean, the love of his life, promised already to another man, when Scott had died. With everything going on at the time and the return of Jean, Logan felt guilty that it seemed as if there was no time to properly grieve Scott. Contrast to popular belief, Logan liked and respected Scott. Their back and forth digs at each other was Logans sign of affection. He knew Scott could take it and he expected it back.

Then the professor was next. Logan watched Jean tear him apart atom by atom and no matter how hard Logan tried to reach him, to save him it wasn't enough. He knew he shouldn't have stayed outside, he knew he should have trusted Charles more about Jean's power. He just couldn't believe that she could do anything of the sort. Turning on Scott, on Charles. The two people she trusted the most. It made his head spin just thinking about it.

And then he was the one who had to stop her in the end. Of course it had to be him, it was just his luck. The universe or God or whatever higher power thought that Logan Howlett had not suffered enough, and it would be comical if he was the only being that could end the life of the only woman he had loved.

He could still remenber every moment. His particals getting ripped away from his body. His regeneration powers replacing them to be peeled away again. And the feel of Jean's skin, bone and flesh scrapping against his claws as he watched the life drain from her eyes. Falling limp against him. Her warm blood running down the adamantium and onto his knuckles.

He took another mouthful of whiskey letting it burn his throat in a comforting way.

And now Rouge had left. Getting the cure she desparetly wanted. She didn't want to take up space and a room that a young mutant could need, much more than herself. Logan took her leaving hard and yet he didn't even know why. She wasn't dead, they could still talk to each other. He knew where she was and she expected him to come visit, but still he grieved for her like a sibling moving away. Still there, but not like before.

He felt so stupid for feeling all this. For feeling anything at all. A weight had settled in his sternum that he couldn't shake.

He finished his whiskey.

The bar fell silent. Eerily silent like an old cowboy film. Logan could feel eyes on him. He sighed and rolled his shoulders out. That little prick must have come back. "Listen asshole-" He started as he turned as stood. He was shocked to see Storm with a face of thunder. "How'd ya find me?" He slurred, struggling to focus on her. The problem with drinking sat down is that it hits when you stand.

"Marie mentioned this was a pitstop some years ago. I thought you might have gone to see her. That would have been a better idea." she sighed, tone mixed with sympathy and dissapointment. "It's a good thing she remembered, we couldn't find you anywhere."

"She's a smart girl." He smiled affectionatly. He really should go visit her soon he thought.

The trip back was a long silent one, with Logan not being one for small talk or music in the car. For once Storm preferred it. They both had so much chaos in their heads that never silenced, the quiet in the car was almost a comfort.

When they entered the mansion Logan pushed past Storm and stomped his way up the staircase, swaying slightly. Storm sighed and shaked her head at him. She's worried about him. He's barely been out of his room, more withdrawn than usual, even for him. He usually forgets to eat, but lately he's only been spotted in the kitchen past midnight looking for beer. She's trying her best for him but she's also dealing with a lot of grief and at the end of the day he's a grown man, there's only so much she can get him to do.

Storm has been laid awake in bed for hours now, tossing and turning with no sleep coming to her. The mansion was dead silent and the moon was shining bright through her curtains. She had nothing to do but let her thoughts carry her away. They wasn't happy thoughts, like logan, everything single misfortune that had happend lately raced through her mind. She picked apart all scenarios where she could changed something and saved the people she loved. It was all becoming so overwhelming and soon tears started streaking down her face. She had never felt so alone before.

Storm knew he'd still be up. Even though it was close to 3am the wolverine has an infamous sleep schedule. Holding back a small sob herself and in desperate need of comfort, she quietly swung Logan's door open. She gasped at the scene before her.

His bed had was messy, this wasn't uncommon, Logan tossed and turned in his sleep, the odd time waking up almost sideways, starfish in his bed. But tonight Storm could see deep trios of claw marks in the quilt, pillows and mattress. It was a massacre of white bedding and feathers.

She followed a trail of claw marks in the wall and the floorboards like breadcrumbs, to Logan in the corner with the pale blue moonlight shining on him. He had tucked himself into the very back of the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest, his right arm draped over his kneecaps, hand resting on the opposite sholder. His head cradled by the inside of his elbow, Storm couldn't see his face at all just his hair, the kitten ears following the shape of his forearm. His left arm was hugging his shins and the painfully obvious depiction was his claws, shining in the nightlight, pushing beads of blood onto his knuckles.

Storm gasped "oh Logan" she whispered softly, carefully sitting on the floor infront of him. He sniffed deeply, and slowly raised his head until Storm could see his eyes briefly. They was glossy, full of tears threating to spill and bloodshot. A vein from the outer corner of his right eye running until it almost touched his iris was prominent, revealing how exhausted he really was. For the first time Storm didn't look into his eyes and see the gruff and violent Wolverine of the X-Men. She just saw Logan, with vulnerable, almost childlike expression. Confused and scared and lonely.

As quickly as he had lifted his head it was back down again. Storm looked him over again, noticing the slight tremor in his hands, he was also shivering slightly, without the warmth of his duvet his white tank top wasn't warm enough in this old mansion.

She also heard him sniffle.

That is what broke her.

That is what made her start to cry again. To see and hear Logan who was always the strong one. Always in control of his emotions. Who until tonight she would have believed had never cried in his life, not even as a baby. Yet here he was huddled in the corner crying almost silently and tucked in on himself.

Logan heard Storm sob, he felt her gently touch his arm, and he guiltily and painfully pulled his claws back in, his knuckles would start to heal now.

He felt her move to sit next to him. She was still crying. She rested her head on his shoulder and wound her arm around his knees to nonverbally tell him that she had him, that they had each other, and she knows what he's feeling right now. Logan couldnt remember the last time anyone held him, comforted him. He could feel her, her love and security. And shared grief.

He broke.

He pushed his face further into his arm as sobs racked his body, his shoulders heaved, he's breath uneven and a great weight settled in his sternum again trying to suffocate him. Every so often a small gasp would escape as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Storm stayed with him all night. Rubbing small, gentle circles across his shoulder blades, quietly shushing him, comforting him and letting him know she was there for him. She knew logan wouldn't have handled any of this well, but she suspected this was the first time he had actually processed any of his emotions at all.

The next morning Hank was doing his best to get the school into some sort of order. He had promised Logan and Storm to stay and help until everyone was back on their feet a little. He knew Storm and gone to find Logan late last night so he would take on breakfast duties.

It was early so no one else was awake. Walking past he found Logan's door wide open. Figuring he could use all the rest he could Hank moved to close the door for him when noticed the pair in the corner. Logan's head had rolled back, his mouth open as he snored softly. One of his legs had stretched out while the other remained in an 'A' shape. And carefully laid on his shoulder was Storm. She had curled up to his side and used him as a pillow.

Hank smiled and pulled the door to, glad that in this horrible time at least they had each other.

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Thanks for reading 💛