My Friends Are Here
When Logan woke at his normal time with the rising sun, Scott was still sound asleep. With one arm slung over his head and the other splayed across the bed, he might have forgotten briefly that he wasn't the Scott he'd always known.
That is, if his story was true. Logan wasn't an idiot; even though his gut told him that Scott was telling the truth, he still reserved a small part of his mind for reasonable doubt that all wasn't as it seemed. But for now, he chose to trust the man in his husband's body. As things stood, there wasn't much of anything he could do about it anyway.
The biggest thing that convinced him was honestly how weary he had seemed all day, like he hadn't slept at all the night before. Scott had been plenty full of energy the previous night, and Logan had put it to good use to make sure the man slept soundly. He was kind of sad he didn't get to see this interloper Scott's reaction to the hickeys on the back of his shoulders.
Selfishly, and maybe to put himself at ease more than anything, he pulled himself over to Scott while disturbing the bed as little as possible to plant a peck on his forehead. While he was over there, he took a deep sniff of his hair. With his sense of smell now as dull as any other human’s, this was the closest he could get to finding the individual smell of people that he used to be so accustomed to.
As far as Logan was concerned, he might as well have lost the sense entirely, and he'd never really stopped mourning it. It was like being able to read what your friends were saying but never hear speak again, or being able to speak to them on the phone but never see them. He lost an entire dimension to every interaction, never quite able to read people the same way. It still hurt sometimes, but he never told anyone that.
Even so, his friends were patient, and when he embraced them after a while apart they acted like it was the most natural thing in the world that he would hold them close to smell their hair. He was deeply appreciative that they didn't make fun of him for it. After all, many of them had adopted strange habits to adjust to the loss of their own mutations, and they all knew this was by far not the worst thing he'd done to cope with it.
Scott was showing no sign of waking any time soon, so Logan snuck out of bed and left him to rest while he got the day started. He had to shush the dogs when he got downstairs to stop them from barking and waking Summers up. This was achieved by sitting on the stairs and letting them swarm him, whining and trying to lick all over his face. He snickered at how they pushed past and tripped all over each other. He was unable to pet all three at once but tried his best.
The dogs used to sleep in bed with the couple, but once they brought Daffodil home, Scott hit his limit for animals in the bed. Logan reciprocated by sleeping downstairs to turn the animal comparison against him, but Scott did not seem to find it as funny as he did. Logan eventually complied and broke his own heart by kicking them out each night at bedtime, but sometimes after a nightmare he still came downstairs to sleep on the couch with them. Some of those days he'd wake up to find a blanket placed over him.
He poured out food for his little pack, and like clockwork Ranger yowled for a refill by her empty bowl.
“Hey.” He greeted the scraggly old tabby. She reached her head up to sniff and rub against his face. “Where's your brother, huh? He hiding again?”
The clattering of catfood in the bowl summoned the minuscule black cat from under a chair. He shot out like a bullet.
“There you are. What's your issue, bub?” He asked as scratched him on the back, receiving a fond look and happy mewling in return. “That's what you always say. Excuses.”
If Scott was to be believed, and Logan wanted to think he was, a whole squad of X-Men would be there soon. He figured he should start a pot of coffee for when they got here. Maybe he could pawn off on them some of those damn zucchini from the yard he could never use up in time. There was only so much zucchini bread a person could make and still keep their sanity.
Logan took the dogs out on their walk, the sun still low in the sky. The air had that early-morning bite to it that he loved so much, moisture still settling from a fog. It was quiet this time of day, the only people he passed being the same rotation of other early rising joggers and dog walkers he saw every morning. Some nodded to him in recognition, the others with dogs crossing the street to avoid a noisy meeting. It never stopped Thistle and Thorn from yanking on their leashes to try and run over to the other dogs, though.
When he reached the backyard, he knew something was up the moment Daffodil joined the other two in running to the back door and barking. She only did that when they had company, and with how excited she was it could only be a group of friends.
“What do you know? They showed up after all.” he told them.
Well, the X-Men could wait for him to feed the chickens. And while he was at it, the zucchini situation really was out of control. He ended up just grabbing a bag from the garage to carry in all the vegetables that were ready to be harvested.
he could hear chatter on the other side of the back door before he opened it for the dogs, who charged in barking up a storm. Sure enough, Logan followed them in to find four of the X-Men in his kitchen, young and geared up, sitting at his table and inspecting the room. Three more came in from the living room to see what the fuss was about. Guess it was a big deal after all, to necessitate this many of them. The dogs went nuts trying to greet all of them, not used to seeing this many of their friends in one place. Bobby Drake, Nightcrawler, and Kitty Pryde were the ones walking in. At the table were Storm, Rogue, Colossus, and… and Jean. He knew she'd be coming, but his heart squeezed in his chest all the same.
A couple of them called his name in surprise.
“‘Morning.” He said casually as he walked over to the counter to wash the vegetables. “Coffee on the counter, if you want it.”
There was a collective pause in the room, the only sound being the clicking of dog claws and the tinkling of the tags on their collars as they received their pets. Logan ran the tomatoes under the faucet.
“I would love some coffee.” Piotr said brightly.
“Me too, actually.” Bobby joined in.
Logan grabbed some mugs and set them on the counter. “Help yourself. Milk is in the fridge.”
“Awesome.” Bobby grabbed one of the mugs.
“Will you two wait a minute?” Jean reprimanded. Logan couldn't help his wide smile, but he kept turned towards the sink. He pulled out a cutting board and started slicing an onion, just in case.
“Not to be ungrateful towards your hospitality, Logan,” Ororo spoke up, breaking the awkward silence that was budding behind him. “But you seem rather unsurprised to find us here.”
“It's ‘cause I'm not. Hungry?” he asked, turning on the burner and oiling a pan. He was just fucking with them at this point.
A cheerful “I could eat!” from Kurt was cut off by Jean.
“You knew we were coming?”
He didn't answer, just tossed in some onion and broccoli and started stirring. He could hear the coffee pot picked up beside him and brought to the table. He wished he could say the lack response was part of the fun, but truthfully, he wasn't quite ready to say anything to Jean yet. He went back to chopping.
“There're more cups in that cupboard.”
“Logan!” It was Rogue, imploring tone telling him she knew he was messing around and was ready for him to take it seriously.
“Alright, alright.” he relented, throwing the tomato and zucchini in* before turning around and leaning against the counter. They were all watching him closely, no doubt taking in his appearance. He did the same, noting the differences in their getups, hairstyles, ages. Kurt was especially fun to see, given that he hadn't seen him in his blue and furry form in quite some time. He wanted to walk over and run his hands over Kurt’s fuzzy face, but he fought the urge. There would probably be time for that later.
Jean was also there. He didn't look directly at her.
“Scott told me everything.” He said plainly.
“He did?” Ororo said in surprise. “That isn’t-”
“- what you normally do. He mentioned.” he cut her off.
“What all did he tell you?” she asked.
He turned back around to stir the pan and add sauce and seasoning. “About the whole alternate universe thing. And the mutant you're looking for.”
“Oh. He really did tell you everything.” said Bobby.
“Why? Did something happen?” asked Kitty as Logan grabbed a pack of bacon from the fridge and got another pan heated.
“Between you and me, I think he just felt bad for lying to me.” He slapped the bacon down and the sizzling joined that of the stirfry and filled the kitchen. The smell of it set the dogs back in motion around his legs.
“Wish I could say that was a surprise.” Logan’s muscles flinched at the new voice and he hoped it didn't show.
He looked back at the sudden presence. It was a version of himself, young and wild. His hair was black, facial hair shorter, skin unblemished by wrinkles or scars. He leaned against the doorframe, almost certainly listening from the living room before the bacon drew him in. Or he was just waiting for an opportunity to make fun of Scott. Both equally plausible.
The two of them sized each other up silently while the rest of the team either watched or helped themselves to coffee. The dogs, oblivious to the tension, were walking excited circles around the newcomer, likely assuming he was some sort of family member of Logan's due to the similarities in scent.
Logan turned back around to tend to the food. He could feel his competitive instinct flaring up already, to his own irritation. He was too old for that shit. Or at least, he told himself that to try to stop himself from starting a fight in the kitchen. He couldn't explain it, his presence just made him inexplicably irate.
“So, where is Scott at?” Rogue asked after a sip.
“Sleeping.”
“ Still? Ain't it late for him?”
“I know.” Logan agreed. “He was pretty worn out.”
“Would you mind bringing him down for us?” Ororo said politely.
“He's out cold.” Logan replied. “I have to catch you up on some things anyway. Might as well leave him.”
“That's very considerate of you.” said Kitty.
“Try to sound a little less surprised.”
Logan was actually looking forward significantly to getting to embarrass this Scott by revealing his marriage status to everyone in front of him. He was going to wait for the right timing, though; opportunities like this didn't come around often.
“That's cute and all, but this is kind of urgent.” pushed Kitty.
He just looked at her pointedly and kept his mouth shut, to her frustration.
“He does have a point.” said Jean, and Logan’s lips pursed tighter. “If they've already gotten caught up, we might as well give him more time. That said, I'm surprised you actually got him to sleep at all.”
And maybe she could sense how bad it ate him up inside when she talked to him, because when he didn't answer she let it be.
Logan pulled out plates and started dishing out food while he toasted bread.
Having picked up by now that Logan wasn't budging, the X-Men had moved to conversing among themselves, nothing he particularly cared about. He passed the food out to a consensus of compliments, setting out butter and drinks when asked. If anyone had walked in, they'd probably think it was a normal gathering between friends. Occasionally he'd make passing eye contact with his doppelganger at the entrance, who was also hanging back from the conversation.
The younger version of himself been watching Logan like a hawk since he'd walked in, and he didn't blame the mutant. Ever since he'd first found out how old he really was when he got his memory back, he'd wondered if he would ever age eventually. It was so novel when it started. He'd be doing the exact same as this other Logan if their roles were reversed.
That's the whole point, genius . he reminded himself.
He approached this younger version of himself last, holding the plate of food like one would hold their hand out to a stray cat to convince them they’re safe. Maintaining intense eye contact, the lookalike took the plate, behaving the whole time as if Logan might suddenly drop it and throw a punch instead. If he were looking at anyone other than a backwards reflection of himself, he might find it endearing, a thought that Logan was not happy or comfortable with.
He also supposed that if this Logan had met a number of other versions of themselves, he'd almost certainly gotten in fights with most, if not all of them. If he had his claws and healing, he'd be considering doing the same. He had no explanation for this drive.
There wasn't enough room at the table for everyone, so the ones who were standing gathered at the counter to set their plates down to eat. Logan joined them to have his own meal, but at the far end to get as much space as he could. Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue tried to convince the other Logan to cook more at home, to which he agreed only under the condition they gave him less to do every day so he could actually have the time. The older man didn't comment, but his younger self was right; it was only after forcing himself to stay away from the action that he was able to cook so often.
Once everyone was settled in and eating well and Logan's caretaker instinct was sated, he got the room’s attention.
“I'm just going to go over everything I told Scotty yesterday.”
“And then you'll bring him here, da?”
He ignored Piotr's question, because he had no intention of doing that yet. Instead, he took his time running through everything Scott knew, from the Mutant Conversion to the girl who caused it to the state of the school. To buy some time he also brought up the fates of some other mutant organizations. They spent a little while discussing the politics and social implications of it all, when Logan remembered something he was going to do earlier.
He pulled out his phone and took a quick picture of the group, then sent it out as a mass text to the former X-Men of his world, along with a brief explanation of the situation and the mutant they were looking for.
“Do we know this guy's name? The one you're after?” He asked as he drafted up the message.
“No, unfortunately.” said Jean. “We've barely even had the chance to interact with him. All we know is his pattern of behavior.”
“This ‘Jessica’ would be a most obvious target, if he is to learn of her.” Kurt said as he buttered his chunk of baguette, holding the knife with his tail instead of his hand for no good reason. He still had a tail to show off with, unlike Logan’s friend.
“We did everything we could to keep her secret. I'm not sure how he would find out in the first place.”
“We don't have any other leads.” said Jean.
“Theoretically, any public figure who was a mutant or once held abnormal power may be in danger.” Ororo pointed out. “Including X-Men.”
“How does he pick someone, normally?” Logan asked. “He's gotta have some way of knowing who's different. Can he sense it?”
“We don’t know for sure, but if he can,” the other Logan picked up, “then he’ll be headed straight to anyone he can find with powers at all. And right now…” he'd caught on to what Logan had been putting down.
“Right now, as far as we know, that's just us.” Jean concluded.
“You're saying he's going to come to us for once?” asked Rogue with cautious optimism.
“Surely he'd know better than that?” said Piotr, but no one responded. The question hung in the air while they all gave it some thought.
In perfect unison, the younger Logan and all three dogs perked their heads up and looked toward the stairs in the other room. The older Logan tried not to feel left out.
“Scott’s up.” His counterpart informed them.
Logan brushed past him to cut Scott off at the stairs while everyone waited and finished their breakfast. He stood at the bottom of the staircase and watched the man who wasn't quite his husband trudge down, still not dressed for the day. His hair was a mess.
Didn't he hear all that ruckus? Logan wondered. He really was out cold.
“Morning, Slim.” He greeted over the dogs barking. “Sleep well?”
Logan reached out to stroke his forearm as Scott reached the bottom without thinking, but pulled away when realized that most of the others were peering through the doorway behind Scott. The other Logan’s glare was trained on him, not missing the movement.
“I'm not really awake yet.” Scott replied, voice gravelly. Acclimated at this point, he didn't pull away from Logan’s touch.
“I can see that.”
“Did you make breakfast without me?” he was somewhere between joking and disappointed, and Logan wondered once again to himself if they truly weren't married in his universe. Scott had only stopped once he was pretty firmly in Logan's personal space, after all. Kissing distance, if Logan wasn't saving that for later.
“I saved you some.” he reassured him.
“Do we still need to take the dogs out?”
“Took care of it.”
“Thanks, I-”
“You sure got comfortable quick.” The other Logan said, startling Scott.
The morning-tousled man looked at the kitchen full of people watching him with incredible amusement, then back to Logan.
“Did you seriously not hear them at all?” the older Logan joined in the bullying.
“You said you would wake me up when they got here.” He said angrily.
“I was about to.” Logan lied.
“Are you wearing pajamas?” Bobby called from across the house.
Scott turned around with a huff and went back upstairs to get ready, and Logan was unable to help the smile on his face at watching him storm off. When his eyes wandered back down to the younger-looking version of himself, who was also watching Scott depart, he saw that same smile mirrored back at him.