Come Alive

"Listen, I get your whole 'shtick' as Wolverine, I get the claws, love the fluffy ears.. but does that really mean ya gotta be nocturnal, too?"

Shit. Wade was stood in the doorway, his head relaxed against the wooden frame of the door to the sitting room. He had a black and red velvet bathrobe on, closely color matched to his suit that he'd adorned just a few days ago. Normally, Logan would tell him he looked ridiculous. But even Wade could tell he wasn't himself, and he couldn't find it in him to make a comment. Wade took a step closer.

"What's keeping you, huh? Anything you wanna tell Papa Pool? I know I can speak for two, but I am also quite the listener." He sat on the edge of his couch beside Logan's sleeping area, resting a hand on the couch cushion in his direction. Small gesture, but it felt purposeful. Logan stayed standing.

"Nothing, bub. Didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, okay?" His voice was low and grizzly, but wasn't harsh. 

"Oh dear. I was worried you'd say something like that. Was hoping more along the lines of 'Shut the fuck up, mouth. I don't want company'. But that was way too gentle, and i'm calling bullshit."

"Hmm." Was all he said in response. "Well, you're gettin nothing outta me. Unless you got some whiskey, I got nothin' to say." He added after a moment. 

"I am never one to say no to anytime drinking, but it's bedtime, honeybadger, and we're fresh out of Jack Daniels. I can only guess who that was." 

"Sorry."

"Really? That's it? Now i'm worried. What's happened to my Logey? Why haven't you shoved your blades up my ass by now?

"Call me Logey again and that's what you'll get." 

"That's more like it. God- when you say things like that, I get so excited I forget that you're sat in here brooding and i'm meant to be comforting you."

Silence followed. Nobody said anything, because the merc had no words from Logan to latch onto with a quick one-liner. The air around them shifted, and Logan could hear Wade take a breath.

"I'm sorry. I'll shut up. You really okay, though, bud? I used to do this too." He gestured to Logan standing at the window in the dark. "When I felt like shit. Because I know how it feels to feel like shit."

More silence. Logan really wanted to say something, but he couldn't stop staring out the window. 

"I'll let you try and get some sleep. Breakfast same time tomorrow, try not to jerk off too hard because Blind Al's a heavy sleeper.. goodnight, Logan." It's like he could feel Wade's puppydog eyes staring at him for a second before he stood up, and he heard his feet padding across the floor, obviously admitting defeat in opening up. It made him feel guilty. He didn't want to be an ass. Especially not to Wade.

"Wait." 

Wade looked up hopefully. "That's a little cliche, isn't it, peanut? Waited for poor little me to almost leave the room with my tail between my legs to get you to- sorry. Sorry."

"It's okay." Logan breathed. "I'm grateful for all the hospitality you've shown me, Wade."

"This? My two bed apartment, one of which that's occupied by an old woman with a cocaine addiction? Nothing much. Least I can do right? You helped save my world, can't get back to yours, it seems like a fair trade."

"No...I, uh, I mean it. I had nothing before this. Nothing. Now I have something." 

"Look at you! Being all cutesy-"

"I'm not finished. I have something, but it's not mine. Wade, this is your life, your shit, I can't get in the way. I'm a bad guy, and I can't push my way into your life just expectin' you to make room for me. You've been good to me, you're a good man."

Now it was Wade's turn to struggle to find a reply. The cogs turned in his head, searching for something witty, something stupid to say, but there was nothing. Logan had been hurting, and he hadn't even noticed it.

"You wanted to kill yourself so I could go on and live a good life. I think that's gotta count for something."

Logan turned to face Wade. He'd never thought of his actions in the void that way. He didn't think much about that day, just that he knew one thing: a piece of shit like Logan didn't deserve to live, if it meant a piece of shit like Wade had to die.

"And it just so happens that part of that good life means having my Wolverine in it, now."

"Wade, I.. i'm sorry, your Wolverine?"

"New thing, i'm feeling it out." He whispered.

"Right."

Wade had re-entered the room, sitting back in the same spot, clearly longing for a proper conversation. His hand was still placed purposefully on the cushion beside him, gesteruing for Logan to sit down. He finally gave in, easing into the cheap furniture and retracting his blades, that he had forgotten had been out this whole time. Wade pat his hip comfortingly, taken aback by the strength beneath his skin.

"Geez. You made of more muscle or metal?"

"It's hard to say."

"Ah. Well, whatever your thigh is made of, it's rock fucking hard."

"Is that the only thing?"

"Hey! Not so mopey now, are you? Jesus."

"Being around you so much has rubbed off on me." He even let himself let out a laugh. "Thanks for talking to me, bub. Feel a bit better."

"Talking about your feelings, gay as it sounds, does help, you know."

"I mean it, dickhead. Don't make me take it back."

And there it was. Logan was looking into Wade's eyes again, like he's done so many times. Into a face that not many people could love, but he could always feel his face distort into some kind of smile he couldn't control. Deadpool never shut the fuck up when he asked, never knew when to stop kidding around, and pissed him off more than anyone he knew. But he was caring. He was considerate. He would look after the rugged shell of a pathetic man Logan was without question, giving him clothes (that barely fit), making him meals, introducing him to his friends and family. Why on earth had he decided to care so much for the Wolverine, the worst Wolverine, a man who deserved nothing?

"And..Logan, you're welcome. As in, responding to your thank you, obviously, you're welcome. But also, you're more than welcome to stay here. For as long as you want. Or as long as you need."