Chapter Text
Craig had had ruined dinner for Vanessa’s ex-fiancé (now best friend) twice so far and if he took into count he ruined the first one for Wolverine Wade’s boyfriend Logan, too, that was just three times too many.
And while yes, technically, the first one had been cancelled by Wade himself in order to do… whatever him and Logan had been doing, it didn’t change the fact Craig should have handled the whole situation better. He hadn’t even been able to properly see them off and wish them luck with whatever pressing matters they had needed to attend to! And then, he hadn’t even been able to invite Wade to join for dinner the second time, two days ago – after him rescuing all the people in the whole restaurant, mind you!- due to Henry reacting just as badly as he himself had done the first time.
So, in order to make up for the trouble he had caused them, he was now on his way to their apartment, a large bowl of creamy Mac and Cheese (self-made, of course) strapped onto the passenger seat with a freshly baked apple pie next to it.
Vanessa had given him the address hesitatingly; beseeching him to call Wade before he made his way over. Him and Logan weren’t living in the… best neighbourhood. They wanted it that way, Vanessa had told him (something about claiming they were “not fitting in with the noble folks”), but that also meant the neighbourhood he was currently driving through was… seedy.
It made Craig wish he actually had listened and called beforehand, but he hadn’t wanted to announce himself before he had even finished cooking… and then, the pie had still been warm and fresh out of the oven and he had decided was going to deliver it that way.
He checked the address one last time, before parking in the free spot right in front of the building (usually, he wouldn’t take a tenant’s spot, but he was not keen on carrying both pots all the way from the end of the street) and got out of the car, carefully balancing dinner after making sure he had closed all the car’s windows.
The steps down, Vanessa had said, and he looked around, searching for – there! A set of stairs leading down from the main-street to a souterrain-apartment of a rather down-run complex.
He could just hope he really was at the right place… no matter how little he wanted to judge, this wasn’t the neighbourhood he would usually walk into. He had only been robbed once in his life and that one time was more than enough.
The apartment was rented by a woman named Althea, Vanessa had told him. There had to be a name-plate somewhere, so he could check before he rang the bell. He looked around, trying to find the doorbell.
And that was when he heard the yelling.
It was muffled through the door and he couldn’t make out voices but whatever it was, it was obviously serious.
Something shattered against a wall.
More yelling.
The brutal sound of some heavy object being thrown.
He could call the police.
But what if – what if it was too late, by then?
He knew from Vanessa that Althea was an old Lady who had lived alone here, before Wade had moved in with her. What if it was her who needed help?
He quickly set down the two pots he was still carrying. With any luck, the door would be unlocked.
He took a deep breath.
Someone yowled from the other side of the door.
He pressed the door handle and rushed inside.
There was Wade, lying on his back on a blood-stained carpet.
The was Logan, kneeling above him, one hand on Wade’s chest to hold him down, the other drawn back to punch – to stab.
The three metallic claws emerging from between his knuckles were blood-stained, as were his hands, and suddenly Craig realised it wasn’t his hand holding down Wade, it was the claws on them, piercing straight through Wade’s chest, nailing him onto the floor, leaving him utterly defenceless and nothing but horror washed over Craig because this was- “I already said I am sorry!”, Wade spat and then…
And then he twisted at the waist, despite the metal sticking in his flesh, and with both feet, kicked Wolverine straight into the stomach, hurling him off of him.
The motion ripped out the claws within him with a sickening noise Craig was certain he would never forget.
Wolverine twisted mid-air, landing on his (naked) toes, rather than his whole feet.
There were three large holes in the floor.
Craig swallowed.
Wolverine’s head jerked around, eerily similar to an apex predator’s, and his pupils narrowed as though calculating what kind of prey he had in front of him.
And then, his whole body jerked.
“Fuck!”
“We could be doing that, if you’d stop being a fucking prick about it”, Wade said, getting up from the floor. His sweater was in tatters, ruined from more than three stab-holes and entirely blood-soaked. It was so much, the liquid started dripping onto the carpet and Craig was unable to tear his eyes off of it because there was so much blood, and Wade was standing in front of him, as though none of it mattered, as though he didn’t-. “How was I ever supposed to know that-”
“Turn around, fuckwit”, Logan snarled.
Wade did.
And blinked.
And waved.
“Hi, Craig! Doorbells are a thing, you know?”
“I-” Craig started, but stopped just as quickly, once he realised he had no idea how to end that sentence or what he even was supposed to say.
The blood was still dripping as it pooled down the fabric.
“Sorry you had to see this”, Logan said, carelessly shaking some of the blood and… and flesh... off his claws, before retreating them back inside his lower arms. “We are having an… argument.”
“We are not having an argument, Peanut”, Wade argued physically underlining his tone with physical quotation marks and oh God, he was missing three fingers. “You are blaming me for shit I had no way of knowing about beforehand and instead of searching for a solution, you searched for my fucking intestines. With your itty-bitty claws. Inside my body!”
“If you had used one single fuckin’ brain-cell-” “Again with the accusations! Not helping!”
“I-”
For the second time today, Craig didn’t get to end (or even so much as properly start) his sentence. But this time, it was due to Wade’s eyes lightening up, before interrupting him. “Craig!”
“… Yes?”
“Say”, Wade started, looking at him expectationally, bouncing on his feet and oh god, it made the remnants of blood drop faster, the exposed skin underneath his torn sweater was covered in it- “You are a smart one, aren’t you? I mean, people don’t go and study medicine and get hired by over the top expensive private clinics when they’re dumb shits. As you might have seen, Stabby-Stabs here is a little pissed, and entirely convinced the whole situation is my fault. And I’m not saying I didn’t do it, I’m just saying I had no way of knowing that his daughter-” “She isn’t even my daughter!” “Shut it, you fucking love her and it’s mutual! So what I was saying is, we need someone with enough smartsies to help with all that testosterone-filled rage and it’s not gonna be me!”
Craig blinked. “What?”
“Are. You. Going. To help us?”, Wade asked, pointing between Logan and himself to emphasise.
“I- Yes, of course.”
“Neat! Alright. I’ll get the car. We’ll figure it out when we’re there.”
Logan sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Change your fuckin’ sweater, bub. I’ll get the car.”
Wade blinked, looking down at himself as though he was surprised by the amount of destruction, the smear of gut-material staining the front, and shrugged, before he disappeared through a door into what probably was the bedroom. Craig stared after him, not moving an inch.
“Sorry you had to see this”, Logan said, grabbing a towel from the heater to wipe off the blood… Wade’s blood, from his hands and arms. Craig shrugged, having absolutely no idea about how to answer. There had to be something he could say, he should saying something.
“You have a daughter?”,
Apparently, it was the wrong question, as Logan’s shoulders dropped and he sighed heavily, as he pulled on a pair of boots over naked feet. “It’s… difficult.”
“It’s really not”, Wade protested, emerging back from the bedroom… clad in his red suit, an entire armoury of weapons strapped onto his body. “The aftermath plot-holes? Those are a bitch. Like: If Logan died because of that mutation-suppressing drug, why am I still jumping around? And if Chuck had a stroke and killed most of the surviving ones, why is the X-mansion still inhabited by very alive mutants? But let’s not talk about that, it’ll only give you a head-ache. Peanut, didn’t you want to get the car?”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t exactly work out when you’re back in less than ten seconds”, he said, heading for the door, Wade behind him. Craig struggled to follow, before remembering something. “Wait, I brought-” “Holy shit, is that Mac and Cheese?” Ah, Wade had noticed it before stepping into the pot on the stairs, then. Good. “And… pie? Who-?” He turned, dancing around Logan, to throw his arms around Craig. “Bestest man”, he cried. “I knew Nessa would finally manage to get a proper guy after the whole me-disaster, but she outdid herself!” His hug tightened and Craig felt his ribs creak in protest. Not that he could hug back even if he wanted to, considering his arms were currently squeezed against his body.
“Let go of the man, bub”, Logan said, eerily similar to the first time they had met, back home. “And bring the food inside. Craig an’ me can get the car in the mean-time.”
“Will do! Can’t promise I won’t sneak a bite, though.”
Logan was driving, with Craig in the passenger-seat and Wade having been banned to the back. Not that Craig hadn’t tried to argue -after all, it was their car, not his-, but Logan had made very clear Wade was perfectly able to give directions from behind. Apparently though, he was not able to drive without causing collateral damage and considering Craig would not simply walk away from an accident leaving him physically disfigured, Wade had been banned from the steering-wheel.
And finally, when their Defender slipped onto the Highway, Craig managed to ask: “What exactly is the matter?”
In the back-seat, Wade clapped his gloved hands. “Story time!” He cleared his throat for effect. “So, you know how Peanut here isn’t this universe’s original Logan? I tried the obvious solution, before I got to him.”
Craig blinked. “Not the… original… Logan?”, he asked, befuddled, and felt Wade’s stare at his back, until he turned in his seat to make eye-contact.
“Nessa didn’t tell you.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. “Fuck.”
“I’m afraid not, no”, Craig agreed, wondering whether he should tell them about the fact he hadn’t even known who they were, before their first meeting.
Underneath him, the Defender picked up speed, entirely ignoring any regulations, and shot past the vehicles on the right and middle lane.
“Okay… Okay”, Wade said, thinking shortly, before shrugging. “Ripping off the badge, I guess. This universe’s Logan is dead.”
Craig jerked in his seat, staring at Logan next to him, who very obviously was not dead and currently switched to the middle lane to overtake a Porsche to his left, before getting back to the left line again.
“Yeah, I know. Multiverses are so confusing, I tell you. Anyway. This universe’s Logan died. Sacrificed himself for the younger generation of mutants, like the big secret softie this Logan is, too. Don’t tell him I said that, he gets grumpy.” “I’m sitting in front of you, you fuckin’ idiot.” “Turned out”, Wade went on, not bothering to react to Logan’s input, “Universes have achnor-beings. No idea if it’s just one per universe or multiple or whatever. So. When that anchor-being dies, the entire time-line -or universe, what the fuck do I know, maybe it refers to the same, what am I, a physicist- dies with it. Back to the sob-story: This universe’s Logan died, protecting his daughter, Laura. And then it turns out, he was this entire universe’s anchor-being. Yep, you heard that right. He died like a stupid hero and left our entire universe to rot.”
“Last time I checked, you were willing to die like a stupid hero, too, in that Time Rippler”, Logan cut in, changing lines again without bothering to signal.
“Because that stupid bitch was going to destroy all time-lines including mine, and you know it! Also, Peanut, it’s not like I managed to do so alone. Last I checked, you were there with me.” Wade’s voice warmed. “Like a stupid hero.”
Without taking his eyes off the street, Logan reached back, his knuckles caressing Wade’s currently unmasked cheek, before he put both hands on the steering wheel again.
“So, the thing is”, Wade continued, “I had to find another Logan, to prevent us all going to shit. And I did. Multiple, actually – and they are all so rude, I tell you. I think violence is just a multidimensional Wolverine-thing. So, to sum things up: Got myself a Logan from another universe, got fucked by him in a Honda Odyssey in all the right ways, brought him home. And here he is. Driving our Range Rover Defender on the Highway, while our old ass room-mate Al took our dog to the spa with her for the night.”He grinned, the scarred skin stretching around his lips. “Living the dream.”
Right.
Alright.
Craig would utterly ignore anything he had just heard on an emotional basis, or none of this would work out and he would start questioning his very own sanity.
Objectives.
He had to focus on the objectives.
Logan and Wade had been fighting, because Logan had been upset. There had to be a reason, why.
“So, Logan is angry because he was taken from… his universe”, he tried to sum up – all the way feeling like he deliberately refused to comprehend the entire depths of the conversation, considering that – no. No, he could not think that through, right now.
Next to him, Logan snorted. It was an ugly sound. “My universe was-” He hesitated, grit his teeth, his grip on the steering-wheel tightening until his knuckles paled. “Not a good place”, he finally settled for and this time, it was Wade who shuffled in his seat, reaching forward, until he could card his fingers through Logan’s hair. He snatched the gloved hand and pressed a short kiss into its palm, before letting go again.
“Okay”, Craig said. “Alright, so that is not the reason you were arguing.”
“’S not”, Logan agreed. “The reason is that someone dug up this universe’s Logan and apparently played homicidal-darts with his skeleton and then left without even considering tidying back up again and now my daughter -his daughter, fuck!- is planning to visit her father’s grave she buried him in, after he fuckin’ died in her arms!”
“I told you Peanut, how was I supposed to know any of that would happen?! I didn’t even know you had a daughter! I mean, he had! Mother Theresa’s tits, who cares even; she calls you dad by now, anyhow, and you’ll totally rip apart whatever boyfriend she might bring home one day! Or girlfriend, or something in between the lines like Morph. We’re homicidal heroes, not homophobic ones. It was entirely justified to think your healing factor still had to be online somewhere inside all that metal; of course I dug him up before travelling all across the multiverse to find another You!”
“If we hadn’t Craig in here with us, I would crash this car into the next truck and tie your guts around the exhaust pipe!”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks Craig!”
“...You’re welcome.”