When Logan found Wade he was kneeling with his hands chained to his ankles, the gritty concrete was soaked with blood in various states of drying. His head was bowed, almost like he was passed out, and he might have been from the way he didn’t move. Logan cleared the room in seconds, Wade still didn’t look up.
The chains were thick and silver, most definitely an adamantine compound. That shit has been showing up everywhere, it's toxic and weaker to heat and stress than Logan’s compound. They found out a bit ago that with some work Negasonic can crack it, which is decidedly easier than cutting limbs off.
“Fuck. Wade, Wade, can you hear me.”
Logan placed a hand on his shoulder, intending to shake him awake. Wade flinched hard enough to tip him over, scaring the shit out of Logan in the process, who steadied him before moving to pace around the room.
“Negasonic and the rest of the X-Men are on their way to loot information and shut this place down, alright?” Wade blinked at him, and Logan just rolled his eyes, of course Wade chooses not to talk, the one time Logan actually fucking asks him a question.
40 minutes passed slowly. Logan refused to cut his hands and feet off when they could just wait for the X-men to arrive. Wade is awake, which means he was choosing to be silent. The abnormality of it increased his agitation, probably Wade's sick form of punishment for not cutting his hands off so they could go home. He was already high-strung with Wade going missing, a mixture of worry and anger flooded his brain, he let anger guide him as always. He broke shouting at Wade, he doesn't like when he loses control of his actions, but his brain was foggy. Panic bleeds into his voice, a growling urgency,
“Why aren't you fucking talking!”.
Wade just stared at him, his shoulders shaking and brow furled, not making a sound.
His shoulders shake and his body shudders breath hitching and releasing irregularly, Logan can't figure out what is wrong, he thundered over to Wade, looming. Maybe it is cruel to loom over someone who is chained on the floor, but he is pissing Logan off, and anger is easier than concern or worry.
He hears Wade take a long breath, and it took Logan a second to realize it's not abnormally long, but the first full breath Wade has taken since Logan found him. Logan's stomach started to sink as he stared at Wade, he was still shuddering.
His chest heaved as a short pained wheeze filtered through his mask, ‘heeehh’
Logan let out an audible ‘Oh fuck’ when he saw the blood that followed, pushing through the mask and coming out from underneath his cowl. It was ridiculously difficult to see against the red of his suit, Wade really did color match it well, if you weren't looking for it. Blood coated his whole front in various states of drying, just like the concrete, and now Logan understands why there was so much. His head rapidly cleared of the angry fog, jolting into panicked action. Still, it took Logan far too long to drop to his knees and pull Wade's mask off.
The metal contraption that was flush to Wade's face, nearly drawing blood, was impossible to see under the mask. The silver metal is probably an adamantine compound as well, meaning he can't take it off himself, at least not without seriously maiming Wade, which he only likes to do on his own terms thank you very much. The image of the metal warping under his strength and cutting Wade's jugular fills his mind, and he physically shakes his head to clear it.
Wade’s voice sounds in his head ‘Aw what a good boy, my little wolvie, cute stabby puppy, shaking his head like a wet dog, though I would much prefer Kitty wolverine.’ It is mocking how well Logan's own head can create a dialogue in Wade's likeness, words used so often by Wade replayed in his head like a recorder.
When Logan’s eyes focus, and he clears Wade's voice from his head, his hands are cupping Wade’s cheek and jaw.
‘Fuck, what have they done to you.’ Logan's voice is a startlingly soft mutter, bleeding his concern.
The metal seems to start at his mouth, keeping it slightly parted digging into his soft lips, a hinge sits right on his cupid's bow. The cage creeps down his chin, following the column of his throat closely, stopping just below his Adam’s apple. It then wraps around the back of his neck, cutting into skin, slowing blood flow through his arteries, that explains Wade's lethargy and lack of movement.
Drops of blood gather around three spots, Logan reaches out to gather the blood, he really only smears it, but it startles Wade and he jerks back. The movement shows thin needle like pieces of metal sticking into his throat and if Logan's primitive anatomy knowledge is right they would be stabbing right through Wades larynx. His eye flit back to his mouth and he can see something similar in Wade’s mouth, a metal cage with needles sticking into his tongue, immobilizing his tongue.
These sick fucks made an entire fucking torture device just to fucking shut Wade up.
The adamantine looks to have been forged together at the back of his skull, no evidence of the process shows on Wade's skin, but the back of the mask is burnt, little drops of metal still clinging to the mask.
When Logan looked back at Wade, he catches his eyes, they are red rimmed and leaking tears, he is still shuddering, and it dawns on Logan that he has been crying this whole time. Logan didn't notice, didn't think to check on Wade past a cursory check that he was alive.
They have been here for 40 minutes and Wade has been crying and unable to talk because he has a fucking torture device in his throat. Logan wants to throw up, and scream, and punch something, and kill the twat fucks that did this to his Wade over and over again. His Wade, who never shuts up for the life of himself and the sanity of everyone around him.
“I'm so sorry, mouth, I should have noticed sooner, I - I don't know what to do.” Wade's mouth widens in a poor attempt to smile, the shining metal cuts into his cheek, creating a haunting mimic. He doesn't want Logan to feel bad over something he couldn't control, but his eyes lack any of the usual mirth that is visible when he is enjoying self-inflicted pain.
Logan stands up to walk away, running his hands through his hair, and Wade can't stop the distressed sound jumping from his throat as he lurches forward, blood drips onto the floor. He doesn't want Logan to leave him, he can’t be alone, not again.
Logan turns sharply at the noise and rushes back over, “shhh, I’m just going to make a quick call to get those FUCK WATTS from the X-men over here quicker, they are taking too long.” Wade sags against him the best he can, still chained in a sick backwards C shape, and Logan does his best to support Wade. His shriveled heart cringing at the sight of Wade's vulnerability. Logan makes the call without moving away this time.
It rings 3 and a half times before Colossus picks up, each ring takes more and more effort from Logan to not chuck the flimsy phone at the wall and slash at it as it goes.
Colossus speaks in that eternally patient voice, like Logan is a child, like he doesn't know better. “Yes, yes Logan we are on our way, we had to take a detour”
“Shut up, shut up! Wade has had a fucking torture device on him for the past 40 minute, and I didn't realize because I didn't care to check, so get your asses here! Now!” Colossus doesn't say anything and Logan hangs up, practically dropping the phone to support Wade better.
Logan's chest is heaving, and he can’t really think beyond the heartbeat of Wade, beyond his shallow breaths, the way his neck flexes against the metal. Time passes slowly, and Logan doesn't really have a good grasp on what's happening outside of Wade. He nearly shoots Yukio and Negasonic when they come rushing in, he may prefer his claws, but he never really lost old skills.
Negasonic cracks the chains first, it's easy, simple, some reprieve before the delicate, painful, process that will be removing this fucking contraption. The challenge isn't really breaking the chain, it is keeping the blast and heat contained to minimize damages. Once the chains break Wade's hands fly to his throat, griping at the metal.
‘’Wade, Wade bub I need you to calm down, breathe” Logan’s voice is rough, as he grabs Wade’s hand gently pulling them from where they are clawing at raw skin and metal, jerking it and ripping his throat, more blood flows down his chin, smearing across his neck.
Yukio is crying silently, a strong grip held onto the back of Negasonic’s suit, and Logan’s throat closes at the thought of her witnessing his death, he stares wide-eyed at Yukio silently begging her to look at him. She looks at him and shakes her head, and he relaxes, if only just a bit. Wade sags against him even more as Negasonic starts to talk, “it will burn your neck to all hell, but that should be the only damage, well besides the obvious.”
It is a slow process, the focus required of Negasonic makes her shake, her hands glow yellow and white as a small controlled flame builds in heat. Wade's grip on his hand is tight as the metal starts to glow shifting from red to orange to yellow, and finally white. Crackling fills the room, as it creeps across the affected portion, spiderwebs form and break, reforming as they shutter.
When the cage breaks it is not as spectacular as one might expect, there was no final glow, no explosion of metal and heat. It just simply shattered, it fell apart, sliding down Wade’s back and clanging softly onto the floor.
Negasonic falls back, resting her head on her knees as Yukio starts to fuss over her. It is sweet how much they care for each other.
Logan’s hands are shaking as he leans Wade back to gently grab the metal around his neck, it sizzles against his hand and a growl rips from his throat, but he doesn't let go.
Wade whines as Logan’s fingers dig into his neck, “I’m sorry bub, I know. This is gonna hurt real bad, but you’ve always liked a bit of pain, haven't ya”.
Wade whines again, that's all he can do, he just whines. Wade can feel his throat trying to heal around the metal rods. He can feel it as the metal rods shift with each breath.
“Wade, honey, I need you to relax, if you are tense it will be harder to pull the metal out.” Wade looks up at him, eyes creeping with tears, but his shoulders relax, and his eyes slip closed.
“Alright good, ok” Logan takes a steadying breath and pulls at the brace, the hinge creaks as it moves and the long needles squelch as they are pulled out of Wade's throat. blood seeps from the holes as they close up as fast as the needles leave his throat.
Wade's mouth stretches around the widening frame, and Logan pauses to look at the contraption. The needles are long, still about a half inch into Wade's neck, and it dawns on him that Wade will need to stick his tongue out as Logan pulls the frame away from his neck.
“Wade bub, I need you to follow me, ok, stick your tongue out with me ok”
The metal creaks open, pressing into Wade’s cheeks, to clear Wade's skin. It still scrapes Wade's neck, drawing a line of dripping blood.
Wade lets his tongue fall out of his mouth as Logan brings the frame from his neck. The needles are longer, sticking all the way through his tongue entirely, effectively immobilizing it for speech. It's the best form of torture for Wade, the so called ‘merc with a mouth’, to shut him up.
The needles slide out of his tongue much the same as they did his neck, but it makes Logan wince all the same.
The cage finally slips free of Wade’s flesh, covered in blood and spit, still warm to the touch from where Negasonic blasted it. Logan throws it in typical fashion, all strength and rage, righteous protective rage.
Logan holds Wade tight to his chest as he grabs at him. Wade is heaving the first full deep breaths in nearly 24 hours and stretching his neck in a manner the cage wouldn’t let him. Stretching bunched tendons and muscles that held up the added weight of the cage
Wade finally lifts his head, and starts talking in typical fashion. “Man, they wanted to shut me up, don't worry I still made them listen to me. … god I love oxygen, you know I have some real trauma with not being able to breathe, holy shit! They really should have addressed that at some point, what were they thinking. I mean you got a trauma nightmare scene. Why can't I get one?”
Logan stands them up, growling, “let's go home.”
Wade continues to ramble in typical fashion, but he doesn't let go of Logan. To be fair, Logan doesn't let go of him either.
Time skip to the apartment because yuh, the car ride is silent and they don't let go of each other because they are in love and each panicking indiviually.
The rest of the evening is startlingly regular, but Logan still feels off kilter, he is too hyper aware of Wade, of how he messed up. He keeps looking for a rasp in his voice or a stutter in his chatter, he sniffs for blood or distress. Something to show that the past 38 hours happened. Wade seems off too, a tension in the way his shoulders draw up, so Logan doesn't push it. Hell, he doesn't even know how to begin pushing it.
He doesn't know what to do, so he just sits on the couch brooding, reading, staring intently at Wade in case he disappears, but then Wade moves into the kitchen. So Logan follows him, pulling out a chair to watch. He has not made dinner like he normally would, so Wade starts to make the three of them a sandwich.
It is the first time in the evening that Wade turns his back to Logan. The first time Logan can not see Wade's face, can not watch his expressions or see his throat move. Logan sits up in his chair, scenting the air in case something goes wrong and he can't see it. His senses intensify with panic and worry. He knows it is strange, but he has grown comfortable here and part of him refuses to hide his more animalistic traits anymore. It is honestly spurred by Wade and his bold jokes, calling Logan growling and sniffing hot, encouraging his love of raw meat and blood by buying higher end steaks when they are on sale.
Wade continues speaking through getting supplies from the cabinet and fridge, setting them on the counter. It is only when he starts buttering the bread that he falls silent. His shoulders have been getting increasingly tighter till they are near his ears. His elbows move as he butters the bread but his breath hitches. Logan panics, it sounded just like his breath in the cage. His clouded mind fills the metal onto Wade's skin and Logan jumps to turn Wade around. He grasps Wade around the shoulders and turns him, it startles Wade enough that he drops the bread and brandishes the knife. He holds it against Logan's throat for a long moment.
Logan doesn't flinch or move away, rather he leans in, taking a deep breath as he searches Wade's face. Flipping between his eyes and tracing the lines where the cage would have been.
His voice is a near growl when he speaks, “please… fucking speak.”
Wade jerks his hand back, dropping the knife on the counter as he comes back to the kitchen.
“What? I thought you like silence, yah know some peace and quiet compared to the constant chatter, eheh yada yada yada blah blah blah, all day long.” “ Hell…” Wade's eyes darkened and his voice sort of broke in a soft way, “maybe we could go get that cage back, I’ll be like a little present”.
Logan kinda loses it, his vision slants as he just acts in frustration shaking Wade hard enough that his head rolls back and forth.“NO! Never, do-? Do you really think I'm that cruel? To put a torture device through your fucking neck to shut you up, you… you,” Logan's chest is heaving passionately even after his voice grows soft, “FUCK! Do you think I hate you that much?”
“I-” Wade looks caught off guard and Logan hates it. “I don’t know, nobody likes it when I speak, hell, even when I was pretty nobody could stand me even when they tried. now that i got this ugly mug who would even try” Logan just stands there chest heaving staring.
“I- I try Wade” long seconds pass and logan can see Wades mind spinning, searching
“I think i'm going to faint, jesus christ logan, you can’t be that intense anymore no more heartfelt scenes for you any more.” Logan takes that for what it means and brings Wade face close to his, forehead to forehead and nose to nose. They don't pull away till their hearts settle and their breaths even, and because Wade is built with comedy his stomach growls loud and wet.
Logan cringes away from the uncomfortable sound “finish making your damn sandwich and lets go to bed.”
After that touch of angst and comfort the rest of the evening goes relatively smoothly. Logan can’t help but ask what sent him back to that god awful warehouse and it turns out that when cheep steel knifes catch’s the light just right they look like a torture cage designed with the pure purpose of torturing Wade but that might just be trauma and visual hallucinations taking place. Either way Logan makes Wade promise that if it happens again that he will tell Logan. Logan is also just happy to have the bitter metallic scent of bastardized adamantium off of Wade's skin.