“We’re the last ones alive, Charles,” Logan held his chest in a pitiful attempt to catch his breath. “ You killed everyone.”
————
“I don’t know, y’know? I mean, he’s a thief, but he’s real’ kind to me,” Marie fumbled with her fingers. Looking down, frowning as she partially vented to Logan, who had a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he listened to the woman fumble like a schoolgirl. “I know he’s bad! But he’s so nice…”
“Awe Marie, is that what yer’ really worried about?” Logan asked, tilting his head.
“…kinda,” Marie looked up at Logan. “A little bit! But—“
“But what? You afraid it’ll be a Bobby Kitty situation? Or are you afraid of killing him?” Logan took a drag of his cigar, watching her squirm.
“That’s a really blunt way to put it, Lo,” Marie huffed as she rested her head on her hand. “I guess you’re right.”
“Well, Marie,” a familiar voice interrupted their conversation. Hank McCoy — leaning down close to Logan and smiling. “While your struggles are much more different, Logan here can sympathize. He was afraid of killing me at one point, too.”
“Yeah, except you were really really annoying,” Logan smiled a bit and scrunched his husband's face in his hands.
“Oh!” Hank chuckled a bit, lifting his own hands to cup Logan’s. “I thought you were no older than thirty, if that’s what you're referring to.”
“Eh? Kinda?” Logan shrugged his shoulders. “But yea, Marie. I get real bad nightmares, and they make me do crazy shit in my sleep. You know how many rooms I’ve destroyed?”
“Annnnnd how pissed off Erik was?” Marie smiled a bit and giggled at the memory.
“Yep. Well, I was afraid of killing this guy here,” Logan gently shook Hank’s face in his hands. “Because he wanted to sleep in the same bed as me. I was terrified . But you know what? See how that worked out? I don’t get nightmares nearly as much anymore,” he grinned widely before kissing Hank’s cheek. “Bub, yer's situation is a million times different to mine. However, I think that you should stop worrying your little head about it. You like that Cajun thief? Shoot ya shot, I’ll always support you Marie.”
“French, Cajun, Logan,” Marie corrected him before smiling at both of the men. “Thank you… seriously. I’m not sure what I’d do without either of you,” she gushed.
“Awe, we love you too Marie,” Hank offered her an arm to which she quickly took. He pulled both Logan and Marie closed, kissing Marie’s forehead. “You stay safe, okay?”
“Oh my God— Hank!” Marie whined and her face flushing red. Logan laughed, and Hank’s own face flushed a shade of purple.
“Uh- That’s not what I meant! But that- that’s important too now Marie! If that is what you do choose—“ Hank stumbled over his own words.
“Darlin’, stop it, you’re making it worse!” Logan said through his own laughter.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” Hank pleaded, cracking his own smile before raising his hands to his face out of embarrassment.
Suddenly, without warning. the ground below them began to shake. An earthquake perhaps? Why… It's rare for New York to get earthquakes. And if they were to happen, they were short and barely even noticeable. But this one? It shook everything around them. The dirt being disturbed from its natural layers, animals falling out of trees as if they were… frozen, other X-Men who were dragging themselves around the mansion, and trees shaking violently, as one separated from its roots and heading towards Marie. “Marie!” Logan yelled out, feeling as if something was holding him down as he reached himself out as far as he could, hugging Marie’s paralyzed body as the tree fell on him and broke on Logan. The world continued to shake, as Logan’s arms stayed wrapped around Marie carefully… Was she breathing?
“Logan! Hank!” the two men heard a cry of a woman… Ororo. “Charles….” She held the entrance door to the mansion, stumbling and struggling. Her strength suddenly disappeared, and she collapsed.
“Ororo…!” Hank called out weakly, moming in pain and holding his head as he collapsed himself.
“Hank! Ororo!” Logan cried. What was going on!? Would this end!? He yelled in pain, pulling Marie a little closer.
Logan took a sharp breath, finally feeling the shaking of the world around him stopping. He caught the air in his lungs suddenly, coughing profusely and collapsing with Marie still held in his arms. He coughed a dry cough, inhaling sharply as his healing factor slowly worked its magic. His arms shook, as he looked around at everybody around him. Animals, and the X-Men, all collapsed. Unresponsive. He felt the panic arise in him, his heart jumping into his throat. He painfully looked down at Marie, who was limp in his arms. “Marie?” he asked, shaking her a little bit. Nothing. “Marie…” he said again, this time a bit more demanding. “MARIE! ANNA MARIE!” he yelled, shaking her violently as tears welled in his eyes. “No no no, come on kid. No— not you, god please not you, you’re too young… come on please,” he pleaded with the girl in his arms. No response.
“Oh God—“ Logan ground his teeth, slowly turning around to see the other X-Men. Then Hank. His chest was unmoving, his eyes rolled in the back of his head as Logan slowly moved a bit closer to Hank. He let the tears fall at this point, his hand shaking violently as it went to touch Hank’s chest. Cold.
It was cold. Unmoving.
“No- no no no no…” Logan felt the dam beginning to crack. Still holding Marie close, he began to sob over Hank’s body. “No! No no no no! Hank! Please! Get up,” he looked down at Hank. Snarling, he dropped Marie and pulled out his claws to threaten him. “Son of a bitch! Boy! If you don’t get up so help me fucking God—“ he held the claw to Hank’s fuzzy neck. Nothing.
The claw began to tremble, as he bit his quivering lip before breaking down into sobs. Marie was dead. Hank was dead. And seemingly… Everyone else was dead. Logan had just lost everything he had worked so hard for in a matter of minutes. The grief was overwhelming Wolverine, letting himself collapse onto Hank’s cold body. Sobbing, screaming, and stabbing the ground below them. Anything to get the grief, the initial shock out.
———
Pushing himself up from the ground, wiping away the salty tears that had long since stained Wolverine’s face, he unsheathed his claws. He snarled, determined to avenge his family, from whoever killed them. He began to walk, his steps heavy as he walked. Snarling, feeling the drool creep down his lips, as he walked passed all the familiar faces. Ororo, who laid gracefully even in death, Jean, who was of course close to Scott, her lover, Kitty, who was half in the floor, Bobby, who’s skin had frozen over, and Kurt… whose tail had wrapped around himself in an effort to comfort him in his final moments. He forced himself to look up from the floor of his dead friends — his dead family. The tears threatened to fall down his face again, and he snarled louder pushing them off his face. Plummeting through the halls of the mansion, he found the only other survivor.
Charles Xavier.
He was sprawled on the floor, his old fragile hand shaking as he held Erik’s face in it. Logan sniffed the air, smelling death . Erik was dead too. And Charles — was crying. His hand shaking, hot tears rolling down his face as he mumbled. “Erik, my love, I’m sorry….”
Logan’s claws slowly went back into his skin, cringing at the feeling. He slowly creaked open the door, stepping inside and looking down at The Professor. Or, what was left of him anyways. The Professor died years ago. This was just some random man taking his shell. “Logan…?” Charles asked weakly, turning to look up at Logan.
He felt the air catch in his throat again. “We’re the last ones alive, Charles,” Logan held his chest in a pitiful attempt to catch his breath. “ You killed everyone.”