Chapter 1
Logans lungs were filled with water. Cold, dirty and smelly water. Mule was sticking to his mouth and throat. At one moment he felt restricted by the metal rods digging into his body but suddenly they were gone and he could move again. He sat up and started to cough, trying to get rid of the water from his lungs, but weirdly enough there was nothing. His lungs were dry and throat clear, but he still felt all the debris, that was just clinging to his air ways.
Finally, after a moment he payed attention to his surroundings. He was sitting on a bed in a room that looked familiar. It was nicely decorated, slightly bare but still with that lived in feeling. It mostly consisted of darker colors, browns and dark greens. But there were some pops of color too. There was a pile of clothes on a forest green armchair, and as Logan could smell even from the distance they were in a desperate need of a wash.
He looked around, to his left was a bedside table with a lamp and a glass of water, nothing unusual. He never really made any effort to personalize his living spaces as he never stayed anywhere long enough to call a place his home.
But when he looked to his right he noticed a matching table and lamp, but next to it laid a book. As he has just woken up he had to squint his eyes to make out the title, “Lord of the rings".
Next to the book stood a frame. Logan reached for it and looked at the photo inside.
It was taken outside the mansion in the summertime. There were smiles on everyones faces and they just seemed so carefree. Those people didn't experience war, those eyes haven't seen the things Logan has. At this moment Logan was the only reason most, if not all of those people were still alive. He knew most of the people on the photo, like professor on his wheelchair and Storm, Hank, Rogue, all standing around him.
But there were also faces unknown to him, like a man right next to Rogue who held a deck of cards in his palm, or a demon like blue creature just grinning at the camera. On professors left, with her hand on the back of the wheelchair stood Jean, her ginger hair like a halo around her smiled face, lighting the entire photo like a ray ot morning sun. She wore a sage green sun dress. To Logan she looked beautiful, but to him she could never look anything but perfect.
On the right to Xavier stood his most trusted soldier. Scott Summers.
On the photo Scott looked like he was around the same age as when Logan saw him for the last time, before everything, before the phoenix, before the alkali lake, before he found Scotts visor. Before he realized that hes gone.
Scott Summers from the photo was most definitely alive. The ruby quartz glasses on his face instead of the visor he mostly used while fighting or training, another way of telling that the team could rest.
As Logans gaze moved down from Scotts face, he saw a hand on his shoulder, with his eyes he followed from the hand to its owners face. His own face.
It was him who had what looked like a death grip on Cyclops shoulder. Which was weird as in Logans past he and Scott could never stand in such close proximity without starting a fight. Unfortunately for Logan, it made their height difference quite obvious.
“huh, odd" he just said to himself before setting the photo down, maybe in this time line he and Scott weren't such enemies, maybe they were friends.
Logan had to admit to himself that he liked the idea, he was never a fan of the rivalry that stood between them (despite him being the reason for it). He, of course enjoyed flirting with Jean and did it for his own enjoyment but Scott always resented him for it, no surprise there.
Maybe in this time line he could do better. He knew what it was like to loose Scott Summers once. Even if they were supposed "enemies", it would be a lie for Logan to say he wanted to go through the same thing again.
Finally Logan got up from the bed making his way to the bathroom and staring at himself in the mirror. His looks didn't show the time he lived, his face still young and his body strong.
He turned on the tap and without waiting for cold water to pass he splashed it over his face. He kept his eyes closed as he put hand on the sides of the sink. A sigh escaped his lungs. He had to find and talk to the professor.
He entered the room again and and put on a pair of the cleanest jeans from the pile of smelly clothes. He had to do laundry. On his way to the door he also pulled on a while tank top and grabbed his jacket from the hook. Frankly, the most 'Wolverine' outfit you could imagine.
He left the room and looked around, trying to remember which part of the mansion he was it, he hasn't been there for so long, not since it's been destroyed in his past, but this was not his past, here nothing ever happened to the old building.
He walked past Rogue and the weird looking guy from the photo, but who was he to judge.
He just stood there, staring. His eyes going from face to face.
He stared for a second too long and Beast walked past him, blue and alive.
He felt like he was in a haunted house.
“Bit of a late start?" Hank just asked him with a chuckle
“Hank-“ Logan just managed to say, but the other man has already gone his own way. In his mind there was an image of young Hank McCoy, so vivid in his memory.
He continued, walking past some people he already knew and some he didn't.
When he walked down the main stairs he noticed a very familiar head of red hair.
“Jean?" Logan just called out and she turned around. Face of the woman he killed in front of him.
“Jean-“ he repeated as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Logan, are you okay?" She asked as she saw the pure shock in his eyes.
“You're here" he finally got to her and reached his handout to touch her. He had to touch her. To make sure its not just another hallucination like the dozens he has experienced.
His hand was stopped and her looked to his left, Scott fucking Summers.
“I thought you were past this" Cyclops just chuckled with a a slight smile on his face. Of course, Logan thought, him and Jean were together in every universe, after all they were like the 'power couple' of the x-men.
“Some things don't change, do they?" Logan asked pulling his hand away but a wave of nostalgia fell over him. He missed this.
“Good to see ya, Cyke" he embraced the other hand in a friendly manner and patted his back.
What he got in return wasn't what he exactly expected. Scott embraced him with his hands on Logans back and his head on Logans shoulder, and with that he sighed.
“Good to see you too" he said, content in his voice, before pulling away but his hand still on Logans wrist.
“I've got a class to teach," Scott just smiled “see you later, okay?" He squeezed his hand and let go of it, walking away, mixing into the crowd of students.
Once again this morning Logan was met with a thought that whats happening seems very odd, and once again that thought came to him in relation to Scott.
And with a that he said 'see ya later' to Jean, that still stood there and observed the entire interaction, and made his way to Professor's study.
When he entered he realized that this room also didn't change much, everything seemed the same even the professor that sat by his desk as he usually did.
“Logan," the professor raised his head from whatever he was doing “don't you have a class to teach?"
“A class?" Logan just looked at him as if Xavier just told him that hes getting married to Magneto or something.
“Yeah, history" Charles just said, like it was the most obvious thing in this world.
After the initial shock Logan just walked up closer to Xaviers desk
“I think id need some help on that" he said “especially the past fifty years"
And suddenly the professor knew what has happened, and who Logan actually was.
“Welcome back, " he wheeled up to him “I guess we have a lot to talk about" He just smiled at Logan.
And so they talked.
Logan gave Xavier his side of history.
Xavier gave Logan his.
They talked about the matters of life and death, of humans and mutants, of old and new x-men.
But what Logan feared to ask about was himself.
What kinda person was he in this universe?