Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The next morning Scott awoke with an arm wrapped around his chest and a warm body pressed firmly against his side. It was the first time, he realized, despite the months that the deal had been on, that he had ever woken up with Logan beside him. It was nice, he reflected, to wake up with someone even if Logan was hardly himself at the moment. As if to prove his point, the arm around his chest pulled him closer as Logan began nuzzling his neck. It seemed this was the way Wolverine was going to greet him ‘Good morning.’

“Good morning to you too,” Scott murmured, shifting onto his side so that he could face Logan.

Through the red haze he could see that Logan looked content, peaceful even. More disconcerting than the sight of an unscowling, stern-faced Wolverine was the sight of an unguarded and open Wolverine. He’d probably never know how old Logan really was, but without the burden of being Wolverine, the years fell away.

“Feel like seeing the Professor today?” he asked, even though he knew that Logan couldn’t understand him.

Logan responded with another nuzzle and Scott took that to be a ‘yes.’

Getting Logan out of bed and back into the shower proved to be another challenge. The other man was simply too comfortable and therefore immovable in this state, but Scott persevered. They smelled too much of each other, too much of sex for Logan to see the Professor without showering first. In the end, it was the promise of more sex that coaxed Logan into the shower, where the two of them stayed for longer than Scott anticipated. It was a good thing that Scott had cleared his schedule for the day, allowing Ororo to take over his classes, while Hank did the bulk of the administrative work, otherwise he would have been uncharacteristically late. Still, Scott could hardly complain as Logan pushed him back against the shower tiles as he’d done the day before, the warm water flowing over their already heated bodies. Morning shower sex was something he could get used to.

Afterwards, he briefly left Logan in order to go to the other man’s room to pack some of his things. It hadn’t occurred to Scott to do so the day before, nor had Logan given him much of an opportunity to do so anyway. When he returned it was to the sight of Logan standing at the foot of the bed, still holding the white towel that Scott had wrapped around his waist. Logan looked up the moment Scott opened the newly-fixed door and that keen gaze froze him. Everything about Logan in his feral state was throwing Scott off. It was like being with Logan but not being with him. Just like seeing Logan waiting for him in his room struck him as natural, as though Logan belonged there, but when had that ever been the case? Scott wrestled with these thoughts as he walked towards the other man, careful to keep a calm expression on his face that he mirrored in his actions. Logan relied purely on his instincts now and Scott had quickly understood that any changes in his demeanor or actions would be picked up by him.

“Hey,” he said in a soothing voice, putting Logan’s bag on the bed in front of him. “I got some of your things.”

For a moment Logan didn’t react, continuing to watch Scott with those dark eyes. Then he looked down at the bag. He appeared to recognize it, sniffing the air as he opened it and then rummaging around inside. It occurred to Scott then that he might have to help Logan dress, but once Logan began pulling out some clothes Scott was somewhat reassured that Logan knew what to do. He had watched Scott intently as Scott had dressed, and he appeared to be mimicking those actions now. Scott let Logan figure things out as he made the bed in his neat, precise fashion, discreetly keeping an eye on the other man. By the time Scott was done, Logan was nearly dressed as well, doing the buttons on his flannel shirt in a painstakingly slow manner. Scott took pity on him and pushed Logan’s hands aside so that he could finish the job. Logan didn’t object, standing still as he watched Scott’s face intently. Scott didn’t meet Logan’s eyes but he could feel himself flushing under that gaze. When he reached the last button, Logan’s hands were suddenly on his waist, pulling him against the other man. They were so close now that Scott knew exactly what Logan intended to do.

“God, you’re sappy like this,” he observed, but he didn’t stop Logan when the other man leaned down and kissed him.

They made their way to the kitchen to have a late breakfast before seeing the Professor. Scott was thankful that the hallways were deserted and the school was peaceful while the kids were in class. So far, he’d managed to keep Logan away from the wider population of the school. He didn’t believe that Logan would actually harm anyone, but a feral Wolverine was still unpredictable and dangerous. Scott wanted to minimize the risk as much as possible.

The kitchen was also empty when they got there and Scott directed Logan to one of the chairs at the island that was at the center of the spacious kitchen. He decided to make them sandwiches for breakfast, since anything involving utensils would be too messy and cumbersome, and the thought of patiently teaching Wolverine how to use a fork and knife was a potential disaster in the making. It was an odd reversal of affairs, Scott thought to himself as he peeled off some cold cuts – salami, bologna and ham (Logan liked meat, after all) – that he would be making a sandwich for the sandwich guru.

Logan’s calm demeanor continued as he surveyed the space around him with those ever-watchful eyes. His head snapped to the entrance of the kitchen as a sound came from there and Scott looked up just in time to see Jubilee frozen in the doorway. A low growl emanated from Logan’s throat.

“Hi, Mr. Summers,” Jubilee said uncertainly, her voice nervous and tight as her eyes darted between the two men.

“Hi Jubilee,” Scott said, voice perfectly composed so as not to alarm Logan. “Now’s not a good time. Maybe you could come back later?”

Logan’s growl was a steady hum, but at least it hadn’t risen in volume.

“Right,” Jubilee agreed, her gaze now fixed on Logan as she backed out of the room.

Scott sighed, belatedly realizing that Jubilee probably hadn’t had breakfast herself and was obviously running late. He put a plate with a rather large sandwich in front of Logan before proceeding to pour himself a mug of coffee.

“Feral or not, one thing is the same,” he said, sitting down beside the other man.

Logan briefly stopped chewing to give Scott a sideways glance when he spoke, but it was likely that the words themselves hadn’t registered. Then Logan dug into his sandwich, apparently approving of Scott’s culinary skills.

“We need to work on your manners,” Scott stated. He sipped his coffee as he watched Wolverine eat, hoping that the Professor would be able to help.

They were standing outside the Professor’s study.

Professor? Scott said, reaching out mentally.

Come in, Scott, answered the Professor’s soothing voice in his head. I’ve been expecting you.

Scott turned the knob, opened the heavy study door and began to walk inside. He stopped when he realized that Logan wasn’t following him.

“Logan?” he questioned.

Logan didn’t look fearful or wary, merely thoughtful, a word that Scott rarely associated with Wolverine. He wondered what Logan remembered of this office, of what he remembered of the Professor.

“Logan,” he said again when the other man didn’t respond. He held out his hand and a little to his surprise, Logan grasped it and allowed Scott to lead him inside.

The Professor was near the entrance and he motioned for the two of them to sit on the leather sofa in the middle of the room. He was dressed in his usual impeccable manner.

The Professor’s gaze fell on their clasped hands and Scott slowly but self-consciously released Logan’s hand. He was sitting near enough to Logan that their legs were touching. He allowed his hand to drop onto Logan’s knee instead, its presence there a comforting weight.

“How is he doing today?” the Professor asked.

“He’s a lot better,” Scott replied. “Calmer.”

“Yes,” the Professor agreed, observing Logan observe him. “You’ve done a good job with him.”

Scott felt mildly embarrassed, as though Logan were some kind of pet that he’d been looking after. He cleared his throat. “Do you think you can help him?” he asked.

“I’ll certainly try,” the Professor answered, moving his wheelchair so that he was sitting directly in front of Logan. “I don’t know what his mind will be like in this state,” the Professor went on. “But I’ll try to see what he remembers. Maybe we’ll be able to piece together what happened to him and how to reverse the effects.”

The Professor leaned forward and Scott knew that he must have been broadcasting thoughts of encouragement and peace to Logan. Logan didn’t move away but he was fixing the Professor with a hard stare, one that he eventually broke to look at Scott beside him.

Scott wasn’t sure what the look meant. Was Logan seeking confirmation of some sort? Assurance? “It’s okay,” he found himself saying, a phrase he had repeated a number of times to Logan over the past day. “The Professor won’t hurt you. You remember him, right?” He emphasized his words by gently squeezing Logan’s knee. Logan’s gaze dropped to the action before returning his attention to the Professor.

“Logan,” Charles said, finally addressing the other man. “Scott’s right. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help.” He waited as Logan sniffed the inner part of his wrist when he raised his hands towards the other man’s head. Satisfied, Logan stayed still as the Professor closed his eyes and began to concentrate.

Scott watched their exchange in silence, his hand still on Logan’s knee. The mind reading only lasted several minutes, but it seemed to him that time had slowed down significantly. When the Professor was done, he sat back in his wheelchair and watched Logan thoughtfully. Logan sat back as well, much more relaxed and content than when he’d first entered the study. He suddenly seemed fascinated by the grain of Scott’s oxford shirt and he began running his hand along Scott’s back, stroking the material in a way that spoke volumes about their relationship. Scott didn’t stop him, but he was acutely aware of the Professor watching this little display.

“What did you see?” Scott finally asked, when he felt that the silence had gone on for too long, during which time Logan had moved so far into his personal space that the other man was on the verge of nuzzling him.

“Not much to explain what happened to him,” the Professor admitted. “Logan’s memories have always been a labyrinth to navigate,” he went on, referring to the other times he’d attempted to parse Logan’s mind. “But in this state they’re not so much memories as they are sensations. Sense memories,” he rephrased. “What little I could grasp were more feelings and associations rather than concrete images. And there was certainly no order to them. The easiest ones to access were the more recent sense memories.” He paused. “Most of them had to do with you,” he said, giving Scott a pointed look that Scott found difficult to meet. “This . . .” the Professor paused again, searching for the right word. “Affection,” he said at last, “that Logan demonstrates for you is genuine. And it’s quite deep. I’d go so far as to say that in this state, he thinks of you as his mate.”

Scott visibly started at this revelation and his shock passed through to Logan who also tensed, his expression now guarded as he watched Scott’s face. Scott forced himself to smile and that now familiar refrain fell from his lips.

“It’s okay,” he said and he meant it. He was probably going to learn more about Logan in this little session than the other man would’ve ever told him. A part of him felt guilty that he should find out Logan’s true feelings this way. It’s not like he’d been particularly honest about his own feelings, not just to Logan but perhaps more importantly, to himself.

Logan accepted Scott’s reassurance and went back to petting and stroking the other man. It was a possessive action as much as an affectionate one, Scott belatedly realized, as his gaze fell on the coffee table in front of him. Now he was the one fascinated by the grain of the wood. He took a deep breath before he faced the Professor, whose wheelchair was positioned beside the table.

“You know, Professor,” he said slowly. “I always thought that it was the animal inside Logan that made him so… harsh.”

The Professor nodded. “Now you realize it was the man,” he said, finishing Scott’s thought. He didn’t need his telepathic ability to know that’s where Scott was headed.

Scott sighed. He hated keeping secrets, especially from the Professor. Besides, he didn’t think it was really possible to keep secrets from such a powerful telepath, and he’d been thankful over the years that the Professor was deeply respectful of his privacy. So before he knew it, he’d begun talking about the deal and how things had progressed (spiraled out of control, he thought to himself) from there; what had happened while he, Logan and Jimmy had been transported to the Savage Land, and the events that had eventually brought Logan back to the mansion.

The Professor remained silent the entire time, his expression not revealing any surprise or disapproval of Scott’s actions. By the time he was done, Scott didn’t even realize that the hand he had placed on Logan’s knee was now on Logan’s back, gently scratching that part of Logan’s shoulder blade that produced a deep rumbling, the closest thing to a purr that Wolverine could manage, until that deep rumbling was the only sound that could be heard in the silence of the room.

“Well,” Scott said, trying to prod a reaction from the Professor. Spilling his guts was not something he did frequently, not even to those closest to him, except perhaps to Jean. But he had always been able to tell Jean anything.

“It’s a very illuminating story, Scott,” Charles said at last. “I’ve never questioned your methods of handling team dynamics but this is quite . . . unorthodox. Although I suppose anything having to do with Logan has never been by the book.”

“You think it was wrong, then?” Scott felt his stomach sinking.

“I’m not here to judge you,” Charles said, even though Scott felt that was exactly what was happening. “I’m merely pointing out that trading sex for obedience was never going to be that simple. Not even with Wolverine. It’s clear that the deal was simply an extension of the power play between the two of you with the stakes significantly raised.”

“A power play?” Scott echoed, as though the concept were new to him. “You think that’s what this is about? A struggle for power?”

“What else would it be?” Charles asked, but there was no mistaking the irony in his tone.

Scott mentally sighed, knowing the action would easily be picked up by the Professor. It was then that the second half of the Professor’s words sunk in – “with the stakes significantly raised.” What exactly did the Professor think the power play was about it? Scott wasn’t about to ask. The answer was much too terrifying. And Scott already had an idea, if his aborted conversation with Logan in the Savage Land was anything to go by.

“Can you help him?” he asked instead.

“If you mean, can I restore his memories or bring him out of a feral state, then I’d have to say ‘no,’” the Professor admitted. “I could try,” he went on, “but that doesn’t strike me as the best course of action.”

“What would be the best course of action?”

“I spoke to Hank yesterday while you were taking care of Logan,” the Professor began (and Scott tried not to read anything into the phrase ‘taking care of’). “He thinks we should let Logan come out of this on his own and I’m of a like mind. There’s probably a trigger to bring him out of it but since we don’t know what it is, Logan’s probably better off coming out of it on his own.”

“And what if he doesn’t come out of it?”

“This isn’t the first time this has happened to Logan,” Charles explained. “A feral Wolverine – one that could be controlled as paradoxical as that sounds – would’ve been of immense use to the Weapon X program. No, I suspect he’s been conditioned this way. That’s why Hank and I also believe there’s a trigger to pull him out of it.” He paused. “I don’t know how long it will take,” Charles admitted. “Days, weeks, possibly months. But Hank and I are both confident that he’ll come out of it.”

“And what will we do with him until then?”

At this question, Charles smiled. “That,” he said. “I shall leave to your discretion. You are, after all,” he added slyly, “his mate.”

Scott tried to return the Professor’s smile, but he suspected that it came out more like a grimace. Professor Charles Xavier could snark with the best of them.

“I think we’re done here,” Charles said.

Scott could recognize a dismissal when he heard one. He stood up and Logan automatically did the same. “Thanks for your help, Professor,” he said, turning to go.

“Drop by and see Hank,” Charles suggested at their retreating backs. “Logan could do with a check up.”

“A check up?” Scott repeated in the sub-levels of the mansion. “What exactly are you checking for? It’s not like Logan gets sick. And if he did, then we’d know there was something seriously wrong.”

“True,” Hank agreed. He had a stethoscope on and was listening, presumably, to Logan’s strong heartbeat. He removed the stethoscope, satisfied. “Logan doesn’t get sick. But I’d like to run some blood tests, make sure there isn’t something that shouldn’t be in his system, as well as take an MRI to see if there are any unwanted implants or foreign devices.” He pulled out a syringe with a needle and Logan immediately growled.

“Ah,” Hank said. “It appears Wolverine doesn’t like needles,” he observed. “There’s probably a good joke about that…”

“…but now’s not the time,” Scott finished for him.

“Indeed,” Hank agreed. “Not if Logan can’t appreciate my wit. Here,” he said, passing the syringe to Scott. “You should probably do that.”

Scott held back a sigh as he accepted the needle. Efficiently locating a vein, he began to withdraw the necessary blood.

“It’s rather unusual how calm and responsive Logan is to you,” Hank observed, as Scott pulled back the piston. The blood flowed smoothly into the syringe. Logan didn’t even flinch.

“Isn’t it?” Scott said, faking wonderment. He passed the now-full syringe back to Hank. “Are people talking about it?” he asked seriously.

“It’s all anyone’s talking about,” Hank replied dryly.

“Any prevailing theories?”

“None you would like to hear.” Hank stood up, detaching the syringe and placing Logan’s blood in a holder. “MRI?” he said, gesturing to the room that contained the MRI tube.

“Right,” Scott agreed.

When Logan was settled in the metal tube, Scott returned to the observation room where Hank was at the controls. He took the seat next to Beast.

“You should remind Logan not to move during the procedure,” Hank advised.

“You realize he doesn’t actually understand what I say?” Scott reminded his friend, even as he reached for the microphone that connected directly to the MRI room.

“Yes, but I’m sure he finds your voice soothing,” Hank replied. “And you never know, Scott,” he added, giving Scott a pointed look. “He might understand what you say, even if only on an intuitive level.”

Scott shrugged, but the thought had also crossed his mind. Logan did seem to understand him on an intuitive level. After all, why did he keep bothering to explain to Logan what he was going to do? He switched the microphone on.

“Logan,” he said. “We’re about to run the scan now. You’ll hear a loud noise. Don’t worry. That’s just the machine capturing your image. You need to be still while the scan runs. Don’t move. Everything will be fine.” He nodded to Hank when he was done explaining, and Hank began the scan. Remarkably, Logan didn’t move.

“What happens after this check up?” Hank asked, as both of them watched the procedure.

“I was hoping to get your opinion on that,” Scott admitted. “The Professor has left it to my discretion, but any advice would be welcome.”

“We could keep him here,” Hank said, thoughtfully. “Not the Med Bay,” he clarified. “We could put him in a comfortable room here in the sub-levels. Keep him under surveillance. I know that sounds grim, but…” he trailed off with a shrug. “It’s a way to keep Logan safe and to keep the school safe.”

“Isolation,” Scott translated. “You think keeping him isolated is the best way to handle this?”

“He’s feral, Scott,” Hank stated matter-of-factly. “That alone makes him –”

“Unpredictable,” Scott finished for him. He fell into a pensive pose. He couldn’t deny that Hank’s idea had a practicality to it. Hank’s first priority was the safety of the school, but the idea didn’t sit well with Scott. Not at all.

“You disagree?” Hank said into the silence that fell between them. The scan continued, the machine making a second pass.

“I do,” Scott finally said. “I think we should go in the opposite direction. Integration, instead of isolation.” He swiveled his chair so that he was facing his friend. “The Professor said that there was probably a trigger to bring Logan out of his feral state. Since we have no hope of discovering what that trigger is, maybe we should try to provide a trigger of our own. If we integrate Logan back into the daily life of the school, maybe eventually the team, and surround him with familiar places, people and things…” Scott trailed off as well. “Maybe that’s what he needs to remember himself.”

Hank nodded thoughtfully. “It’s an idea with merit,” he agreed, but he still sounded hesitant.

“Tell me,” Scott ordered.

“There’s still the unpredictability factor,” Hank said. “Surrounding Logan with familiarity may help, but conversely, we don’t know what triggers will set him off.”

“I think we can make educated guesses,” Scott countered. “We can minimize those instances as much as possible. The integration would be gradual. The school, after all, is a non-threatening place and once Logan understands that…once he feels safe in this environment, I really don’t think he’s going to be a problem.”

Hank had a somewhat bemused expression that was making Scott uncomfortable.

“What is it?” Scott asked flatly, when Hank didn’t say anything.

“You’re willing to risk all that for Logan?”

“I believe it’s the best way to help him,” Scott answered, carefully evading the question. At Hank’s pointed look, he relented. “Yes, I’m willing to risk it for Logan. But I truly don’t believe that it is a risk,” he added. “I’m confident –” He faltered, unsure of what he meant to say.

“But you’re confident in your ability to keep him calm…” Hank eventually said.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Scott agreed.

“How long were you two…?”

Scott exhaled. It was the moment of truth. He could deny it, come up with another plausible response, but what was the point? “A few months,” he finally said.

“I’m impressed, Cyclops,” Hank replied, the admiration evident in his voice. “No one suspected a thing.”

“That was the point,” Scott said reluctantly. There was no need to go into the details of the deal. Spilling his guts once to the Professor was enough, thank you very much.

“Well,” Hank said, taking his cue from his team leader. “Whatever you’re doing so far is working. I trust that you know what you’re doing with him, and the Professor obviously does too. Speaking of which, time to get him out of that MRI tube before he shreds it to ribbons.”

Scott looked up. The scan had finished, but he and Hank had been engrossed in their conversation and Logan was starting to get restless in the cramped space. “Good idea,” he said.

After the check-up, Scott formally moved Logan into his room. The room he’d shared with Jean was spacious, so spacious that he could’ve brought in an extra single bed just for show. But in the end, he decided it was too much trouble. People were already talking and what was being said couldn’t be helped now. He then formulated a clear plan for integrating Logan back into the life of the school. Bearing Hank’s suggestion of isolation in mind, Scott made sure that the first two weeks was largely just the two of them. First, he had a meeting with both Hank and Storm. To Storm, he turned over the responsibilities of the team; to Hank, he turned over the practical day-to-day running of the school. Both promised to keep him up-to-date. As for the administrative paperwork and mission briefings, Scott could do those on his own. He eschewed his office in favor of working in his bedroom, but by the end of the second week, he began spending some time in his office too. Logan accompanied him wherever he went and that meant developing a routine together, one that included a morning run, working out in the gym and swimming laps in the pool. Scott was something of a fitness freak, which proved to be fortuitous since Logan needed the physical activity to keep him from becoming restless or bored. After forty laps in the pool, Logan would be more amenable to lounging in Scott’s office while Scott worked.

The other thing Scott did towards the end of the second week was bringing Marie back into Logan’s life. Sure enough, Logan remembered her scent and after a few days, Scott trusted that Marie would be able to handle Logan on her own for short periods of time. By the third week, Scott began teaching a few of his classes again, specifically, the ones that coincided with Marie’s free time. By the end of the first month, Scott had resumed his regular teaching load. For the most part, Logan would join him in class when he wasn’t with Marie. It was something of an experience having Logan sitting at the back of the room, a cross between an alert bodyguard and a curious observer. The kids weren’t afraid of him – Logan hadn’t caused any trouble since he’d arrived at the school – but they were aware of his presence and it made them sit up a little straighter in their seats, as though Logan would catch them passing notes and doing other things that kids did in class, and that would displease him somehow (and consequently, Scott would find out). Not that Scott had ever had any disciplinary problems in his classes, but having Logan around was definitely a refreshing experience.

The start of the second month had Scott trying even more radical things with Logan. He’d been able to successfully integrate Logan into the life of the school without incident, and had fairly evenly split the school responsibilities with Hank. Logan had also responded to Hank’s presence well, as long as Hank wasn’t wielding needles or other medical instruments. Hank theorized that it was because Logan’s hyper-senses could smell the ‘Beast’ in him. Hank found this comforting. He still believed that his X-gene was merely dormant, that Worthington Industries’ so-called cure hadn’t eradicated it completely. He’d been devastated when he’d lost his mutation at the battle of San Francisco, and was now working to reverse the work done by the scientists of Worthington Industries. Scott worried about him sometimes, that Hank would take the testing and experimentation on himself one step too far. It had happened before. In a way, it was an unexpected benefit that Logan accepted Hank’s presence now. It meant that Wolverine was inadvertently keeping an eye on Beast for Scott as well.

Since Logan felt comfortable and safe with life in the school, the next step, Scott decided, was bringing Logan back to the X-Men, which would be even trickier than settling into daily life.

Sometime in the middle of the first week of the second month, Scott brought them to the sub-levels of the mansion and handed Logan one of his own uniforms to wear (scent remained important). Properly attired, they entered the Danger Room, which Scott had reserved for just the two of them. The first simulation they attempted – as low level as Scott could possibly make it – proved to be a total disaster. Logan didn’t give any indication that he remembered the Danger Room. At any rate, the simulation was flawless and convinced Logan of its reality. That meant that at the first sign of danger, Logan’s protective instincts kicked in and his immediate reaction was to protect Scott. The whole situation would’ve been hilarious except for the carnage Logan caused.

“Right,” Scott had said, as he’d surveyed the damage. “We’re going to have to start with something smaller.”

Scott considered the problem logically. Logan felt like he needed to protect him because he didn’t know that Scott could handle himself. The solution was simple. He had to show Logan that he could take care of himself. The following day, he brought Logan out to the practice ranges. He’d set up a series of targets of varying distances and sizes.

“Watch,” he told Logan.

The first target was a regular archery bullseye set at twenty-five meters. Scott placed his finger on the trigger of the visor and blew it to smithereens. The next target was larger and set at fifty meters. The third target was the largest of all and set at one hundred meters. Scott effortlessly destroyed each one and he was only using a small percentage of his power. He could’ve gone on but that would’ve belabored the point. Logan understood well enough.

“See?” Scott said, turning to face the other man. “You don’t need to protect me.”

Logan looked both fond and exasperated. There was something in his body language and expression that made Scott think Logan was silently calling him a ‘show-off.’

“Come on,” he needled the other man. “Admit it. You’re impressed. You like it when I blow things up.” He smiled. “Between you and me,” he added. “Jean always thought I was a bit trigger happy.”

Logan didn’t react to Jean’s name, not that Scott had expected him to.

“And now that you know I can take care of myself,” Scott continued. “Let’s do some basic combat training.”

Logan really didn’t need to learn the basics. Scott firmly believed that fighting had been ingrained in Logan’s psyche and was a natural part of his animal instincts. And even if it hadn’t been, there was such a thing as muscle memory. He may have been in a feral state, but Logan wouldn’t suddenly forget how to fight. The key, however, was fighting together and being in sync. Scott remembered how in sync they used to be in the field. They’d rarely needed to talk, communicating through look, gesture and action. After the early spats prior to The Deal, Logan had trusted Scott’s strategy and followed his lead. They’d known each other’s styles and patterns so well that they could anticipate each other’s moves. Scott believed they could recapture that now. It was, as Hank had said, an understanding that they shared on an intuitive level.

Scott began this next phase by teaching Logan hand signals and commands that they could use in the field. They began sparring, which Logan was hesitant to do at first, since physically hurting Scott in any way went completely against his nature. But once he learned that the sparring was a form of practice, that it wasn’t real, he enjoyed the physical activity immensely. (He enjoyed the showers they took afterwards even more since Scott had inadvertently trained him to think ‘shower = sex.’) Scott was better prepared by the time he brought Logan back to the Danger Room. Three weeks of one-on-one training had made Logan sharp, and he believed that they were in tune with each other again. Of course, there was really only one way to find out.

He loaded the same low-level sim that had backfired before into the Danger Room computer. This time when he ran the scenario, Logan recognized it. There was no panic from the other man. He merely looked at Scott expectantly, waiting to follow his lead. They executed his strategy perfectly. Scott was thrilled until he found himself pinned on his back with Logan on top of him and nuzzling his neck. It appeared as though Wolverine thought he deserved a ‘reward’ for his performance.

“Note to self,” Scott said, doing his best not to encourage Logan. “No making out in the field.”

They tried two more sims that day. The second sim was also executed flawlessly, but the third sim gave them trouble. Scott had to run it three times before they were able to get it right. He wasn’t dispirited by the experience. On the contrary, he considered the day a rousing success. He wouldn’t dream of bringing Logan on a team mission – two many moving parts, too many forces out of his control – but he felt that he and Logan could do simple two-man missions. Truth be told, he was also itching to get back out in the field.

An opportunity arose towards the end of the third month. By then, he and Logan had been training together for a month and a half with a full month’s worth of Danger Room sims. The X-Men had to do a reconnaissance mission, just observation and scouting the layout of a potential mutant underground slave trade. To say that Storm was surprised when he and Logan turned up in full uniform in the hangar of the Blackbird would be putting it mildly.

“Going somewhere, Cyclops?” she asked with an arch of a sculpted brow.

Scott handed her the mission briefing, which he’d naturally done himself. “Missouri,” he answered. “Not someplace you’d expect to find an underground mutant slave trade, but I suppose stranger things have happened.”

Storm’s assessing gaze passed from Scott to Logan before resting on Scott again. She remained silent. “You’re sure about this?” she asked after a long moment.

“I’m sure,” Scott said, with all the authority of Cyclops in his voice.

Storm sighed. She wasn’t displeased with the idea exactly, but it did give her pause. “Do you want me to come with you?” she said.

Scott glanced at Logan before making up his mind. While Logan had always found Storm’s presence soothing, now was not the best time to disrupt their rhythm.

“I know you mean well,” Scott told her. “But in this instance, it’s really better if it’s just the two of us.”

“You’re taking quite a risk, Cyclops,” Storm commented. “Bringing Logan out into the field.”

Scott gave her a rueful smile. He had heard a similar refrain from Hank when his old friend had learned that he’d begun training with Logan again.

“I don’t know whether this is confidence or arrogance,” Hank had said from the observation deck that doubled as the control center for the Danger Room.

“It’s probably a bit of both,” Scott had replied, before motioning that Hank should power up the sim. With a mock salute, Hank had done so.

Now Scott faced Storm, the de facto field leader of the X-Men until Scott resumed those responsibilities. “Yes,” he agreed. “Hank has also gone through the pros and cons with me, but I really think that being out in the field will do Logan good. A simple, no-contact reconnaissance mission poses the least amount of risk,” he added.

“Still searching for that elusive trigger?”

“Yes,” Scott admitted.

Storm nodded. “Very well,” she said. “You two take care, and keep in touch.”

“Always,” Scott replied.

The reconnaissance mission went smoothly. Logan was visibly excited about being off the school grounds (Scott realized that it was the first time Logan had been off the school grounds in nearly four months and that in itself was a good thing), though he still hated flying. Once in Missouri, they stayed some distance from the perimeter of the compound. Scott couldn’t help but note that there seemed to be a lot of security for a ‘manufacturing plant.’ He watched the patterns of the guards and documented when necessary. Reconnaissance meant a lot of stillness and observation, and it was a surprising comfort to have Logan by his side again. The other man had an alertness about him that bode well.

That first mission lead to others, although Scott was extremely selective in what he chose to undertake. Gradually, he invited other team members to join the Danger Room sims with Logan. First, it was Storm. Then Nightcrawler. And then Colossus. They were the teammates Logan had always respected and worked well with. In fact, he and Kurt had become very good friends. But no matter whom Scott brought in to work with them, that person had to understand that he and Logan were a single unit now. Logan had been his right-hand before, but now that saying had become literal – Logan was on his right side at all times and there would be hell to pay if anyone tried to come between them.

One day, Marie approached Scott. She was hurt and a little miffed that Scott hadn’t included her in any of the Danger Room sims with Logan. It was something Scott had given a great deal of thought to as well, and he told Marie as much. In the end, his reasoning was sound. Logan’s protective instincts were strong. Scott had witnessed them firsthand. Scott believed that some latent part of Logan still remembered his days with the X-Men and that’s why he’d accepted Scott’s ability in the field after his little fireworks show. But Logan’s latent memories of Rogue would be vastly different and truthfully, Scott didn’t think Logan would be able to overcome his protective instincts towards her. That would be a dangerous combination in the field. Marie considered this explanation carefully, reluctantly agreeing with Scott’s decision. After all, Scott hadn’t been wrong in his assessment of Logan’s actions and reactions…yet.

They were five months into this new status quo. Others might have despaired that Logan’s trigger would never be found or that Logan would stay in this ‘feral’ state forever, but Scott wasn’t one of those people. The Professor said it could take days, weeks or months. Hank was still certain that Logan would ‘come out of it on his own.’ Sure, Logan had already reached the ‘months’ phase, but he continued to show progress in his ability to interact with others and to adapt to situations. The ‘unpredictability’ factor that Hank had worried about so much in the beginning seemed to diminish with each passing week.

It was also roundabout this time that Scott realized that he and Logan had another sort of ‘deal’ going. The main difference was that instead of keeping everything under wraps, whatever they did (minus the sex, of course) was plain to see. You couldn’t hide this from the school and they quickly became synonymous with each other. Scott couldn’t do anything without thinking of Logan first, and inviting him to go somewhere meant asking Logan too. There were also similarities with the routine they’d established now and the one they had before. For instance, it became apparent early on that Logan wouldn’t be able to sleep without him. He would drag Scott to bed if he got fed up of waiting for the other man (because it wasn’t uncommon for Scott to work into the night), so that Scott had taken to reading Storm’s mission reports in bed with Logan curled up beside him, Scott’s hand resting on the other man’s shoulder. There were other details Scott noticed: the waiting, the careful observation, the obedience. Everything Logan did was attuned to Scott in some way, and Scott wondered if it had been that way from the beginning, if it had taken him this long to finally recognize the patterns in Logan’s behavior. He recalled what he’d said to the Professor on the day he brought Logan in to see him, namely, that he’d believed it was the animal inside Logan that made him so harsh but now Scott realized it was the man. How ironic that they had a more functional relationship now than at any time in the past. The real question, Scott knew, was what would happen when Logan finally came to his senses?

It was one of the special days. Logan didn’t have much sense of time anymore, but he did feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. If he’d remembered the word ‘happiness’ or understood the concept, then he would’ve realized that was how he felt, which would’ve been an utterly alien feeling to him in another life. But Logan didn’t remember these things. What he knew was the steady presence of his mate and the kindness and camaraderie of others. There was warmth, comfort and shelter. Good food. Good beer. Good sex. The days were peaceful, punctuated by bursts of physical activity. There were special days when they wore special clothes, and then Logan had to be at his most alert, his senses attuned to everything his mate did and their immediate surroundings. Today was one of those days.

Logan was following his mate…when he was assaulted by the foulest stench.

“The hell are we doing here?”

In front of him, Scott stopped abruptly. Logan could feel the other man’s alertness sharpen. Scott turned around and strode back towards him. “Logan?” he said. He sounded a little uncertain.

“Yeah, Cyke,” Logan replied. He felt a little peevish. “Is it just me or are we walking in shit?”

“That’s what happens when you pass through a sewage tunnel,” Scott answered.

To Logan’s utter surprise, Scott walked right up to him and grasped him firmly by the arms, as though testing to see if Logan were really there. “You’re really you,” Scott said faintly.

“Am I supposed to be somebody else?”

Scott’s laugh echoed around the dimly lit tunnel. Logan was so distracted by the joy he heard in the sound that it took him a moment to realize that he had no idea where they were, how they ended up in a sewage tunnel or what they were even supposed to be doing. But a quick glance at the familiar black uniform told him that they were on a mission. What mission was another question he couldn’t seem to answer.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Scott asked, dropping his hands from Logan’s arms.

Logan considered the question carefully since he was wondering the same thing. “You. Leech. The Savage Land,” he finally said. “Those military assholes that found us.” His eyes narrowed, understanding what must’ve happened. “Why? How long’s it been since the Savage Land?”

“It’s been seven months,” Scott said a little reluctantly. “But only five months since we found you.”

“Found me?” Logan repeated.

“Those military…assholes…captured you.”

Logan smiled at Scott’s use of a curse word. Their Fearless Leader still had his Boy Scout moments.

“The team found you in a civilian branch of the Weapon X program,” Scott explained. “You were…feral.”

Logan glanced down again at the uniform he was wearing. “Ya brought me out on a mission while I was feral?” he said, a little incredulous.

Scott smiled. “You’ve been remarkably well behaved,” he replied, his smile seeping into his voice.

Before Logan could say anything else, Scott had activated the com device in his ear. “Logan and I are on our way out,” he said, sounding like he was replying to a question. “We’ll be at the rendezvous in fifteen minutes.”

Even through the snug earpiece, Logan could hear the faint sound of Storm’s voice at the other end.

“Copy that,” Scott said.

“How come I don’t have one of those?” Logan asked, as he fell into step beside Cyclops. The tunnel was wide enough for them to walk side by side.

“There was no point,” Scott said. (Logan could still hear the smile in the other man’s voice.) “I’m the only person you really listen to.”

“That right?” Logan asked, another wave of incredulity washing over him.

“Yes,” Scott said simply.

After a few seconds of nothing but the sound of flowing sewage and their wet steps, Logan suddenly grabbed Scott’s arm. “Hey,” he said, bringing the other man to a halt. “You and me. We good?”

Even in the poor lighting, Logan could see how Scott’s features softened, how that smile in his voice must be crinkling the corners of his eyes if only Logan could look behind the visor.

“Yes,” Scott said. “We’re better than good.”

Then, in an inexplicable gesture, Scott reached out and grasped Logan’s hand, tugging him so that they were moving again. For the second time, Logan fell into step beside the other man, wondering what had changed that walking hand-in-hand out of a sewage tunnel felt like the most natural thing in the world.

The Blackbird was waiting for them in a field about a quarter mile from the exit of the tunnel. The cloaking device was disabled as soon as they came into view.

“Where are we anyway, Cyke?” Logan asked, taking in the country scenery and the (finally) fresh night air. They both reeked.

“Missouri,” Scott answered.

“And what’re we doing in Missouri?”

“Breaking the underground mutant slave trade.”

“In Missouri?” Logan repeated.

Scott’s reply this time was a smile. In fact, Scott had been smiling so much since Logan had come to his senses that the whole thing was unnerving. Cyclops did not smile.

“I’ll explain everything later,” Scott said instead, gesturing to the open back hatch. “The team’s waiting.”

Logan boarded the Blackbird and was immediately greeted by loud complaints.

“Holy cow, Cyclops,” Iceman said. “You two sure took the smelly way out.”

“Sorry bub,” Logan half-growled. “Didn’t have Nightcrawler’s help for a quick escape.”

Logan’s statement was greeted by a shocked silence. Rogue was the first to break it.

“Logan!” she said, getting caught in the buckles of her safety harness as she hastily undid them. She rushed up to hug him and just stopped short. “God, you….”

“Stink,” Logan finished for her, but he was grinning. “How ya doin’, kid?”

“Great. I’m great,” she said. She was grinning madly but there were also tears coming to her eyes. Logan felt a suspicious lump in his throat at Marie’s overt display of emotion. He was suddenly thankful that Scott wasn’t the emotional type. After another second, Marie gave up the struggle and gave him a backbreaking hug, no matter how badly he smelled.

“Welcome back, Logan,” Storm said, much more sedately but her eyes were warm and bright. “How did this happen?” The question seemed to be addressed to both him and Scott.

“Hey Storm,” Logan said, eventually disentangling himself from Rogue’s embrace. “Not sure what’s happened,” he admitted. “We can sort it all out back at the school,” he added, throwing himself into his customary seat. “Damn, I need a shower.”

“You both do,” Kurt agreed quietly.

Scott walked by, squeezing Logan’s shoulder on his way to the pilot’s seat. It was a gesture that spoke of comfort and familiarity, a gesture that Scott had obviously done many times before even if this was the first time Logan could remember it.

“A grumpy Wolverine,” Bobby commented from behind him. “Logan’s definitely back.”

By the time the team arrived back at Westchester, it was past midnight and everyone was asleep. Logan headed straight for the showers. From his stall, he tracked Scott’s scent and heard the other man washing two stalls away from him. Scott showered efficiently. He was out of his stall and had left the locker room, even as Logan was letting the warm water sluice over his back. He suspected that Scott had gone back to the Blackbird to take care of his baby. The stench they’d left behind would be worse in the morning.

When Logan was done showering and had changed into a comfortable pair of sweats, he headed back to the hangar as well. Sure enough, Scott was there with disinfectant, a sponge and a bucket, washing down the pilot’s seat and surrounding areas, always mindful of the Blackbird’s circuitry.

“Need some help?” Logan offered.

Scott sat back on his heels before tossing Logan a second sponge. “You can take care of your area,” he suggested. “It’ll go faster with the two of us.”

They worked together quietly, and Logan reflected that in his feral state this sort of quiet had probably been the norm between them. It was nice. Peaceable. It felt familiar somehow. He still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Scott properly, or anyone else for that matter. And yet, everything felt the same and totally different at the same time. Some seismic shift had happened, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

About twenty minutes into their cleaning job, Scott suddenly stilled in a way that Logan recognized as a form of telepathic communication. Charles was probably talking to him. Scott nodded in response to the silent communication. “Yes, Professor,” he said, wringing out his sponge and standing up. The conversation evidently over, he turned to Logan, but Logan beat him to it.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll finish up here and meet you upstairs.”

“Are you sure?”

“’Course. This’ll only take a couple of more minutes anyway.”

“All right,” Scott agreed. “Thanks for the help and I’ll see you upstairs.” He passed by Logan and there was that same gentle squeeze on Logan’s shoulder. It was obviously some kind of sign between them.

Logan was wrong about the ‘couple of more minutes.’ Apparently, during his feral state he’d also picked up some of Scott’s more fastidious habits and he ended up thoroughly cleaning their respective areas. By the time he headed back to the teachers’ quarters of the school, he stumbled upon Storm and Cyclops having some sort of post-meeting powwow outside of Scott’s open bedroom door. Iceman was with them, even though his room was in another hall. Storm’s room was at the end of the hall, opposite Logan's. The three of them had probably just come from seeing Charles. Logan thought it was a bit strange that Iceman would be with the two senior X-Men, but clearly a lot had happened while he hadn’t been himself. Logan approached them, their soft voices carrying distinctly to him, but he wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. Scott would tell him whatever he needed to know. Funnily enough, what he really wanted was another shower.

“Logan,” Storm greeted him.

Logan meant to walk by the group, he really did. But then he caught sight of Scott’s open bedroom door and instinct kicked in. “’Night, y’all,” he said. “Turning in after I take another damn shower.” And with that, he disappeared into Scott’s darkened room.

Scott heard the light switch being flipped on behind him and then a soft glow from his room flooded out into the hallway. A few moments later, there was the sound of water running. He made eye contact with Storm. Her expression gave nothing away, but Scott could still see the faintest amusement playing at the corners of her eyes.

“We can continue this tomorrow,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Good night, Scott.”

“Good night, Ororo,” he replied. “Bobby,” he added, giving the younger X-Man a small nod.

“’Night Cyclops,” Bobby answered.

As Scott was closing his door behind him, he heard Bobby say, “Wait a minute. Did Logan just go into Scott’s room? Why would he do that? He’s not feral anymore.”

“Good night, Bobby,” was Storm’s firm reply.

Scott inwardly smiled, locking his door and making his way to the ensuite bathroom, which Logan had conveniently left open. Another thing Scott had learned about Logan during his feral state was that Logan, surprisingly, did not like cold showers. He liked his showers warm and luxurious, which explained the steam fogging the bathroom mirror and tiles. Scott leaned against the doorjamb and waited for Logan to finish. It didn’t take long for Logan to come out. Scott shamelessly admired the other man as Logan toweled himself off.

“That was nicely done,” he finally said. “Subtle.”

Logan didn’t even bother wrapping the towel around his waist. There was no point in modesty between them. “What was?” he asked, sounding perplexed. He strode by Scott into the bedroom and Scott wondered if Logan even knew where his clothes were. Logan stood in front of the two closets and the bureau beside them. Scent, Scott realized. Logan didn’t have to remember. He could simply smell his own clothes, which would smell a lot like Scott these days since Scott did their laundry together.

After pulling out a pair of boxer shorts from the right drawer, Logan turned to face Scott and said, “Do we sleep naked?”

“Sometimes,” Scott said. “It usually depends on whether or not we have sex.”

Logan plainly gave him a look that said, Ya mean we don't have sex every night?

“Sometimes we’re tired,” Scott explained, answering Logan’s unspoken question. “In fact, I’m feeling a little tired tonight.”

“Now look who’s being subtle?” Logan asked, pulling the boxer shorts on. “What were you talking about, anyway?” he said, moving towards the bed. He couldn’t help but notice how immaculately neat it was. Typical Summers.

“You,” Scott replied, helping Logan pull back the covers. “Just walking in here and casually saying that you need a shower before going to bed. In front of Storm and Bobby,” he added.

Logan paused and looked up. “This is my room, right?” he asked, even though the answer was obvious given the conversation they were having.

“Yes,” Scott replied. “It’s our room.”

That’s when it clicked.

“The whole school knows about us, don’t they?”

“It’s hard to keep something like that a secret when you trail after me like a lost puppy.”

“I did not!” Logan automatically retorted. But when he gave it some thought…and there was Scott looking at him again with that fond smile. “Dammit,” he muttered. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Adorable was a word I never thought I’d associate with you.”

“Watch it, Summers,” Logan half-growled, but there was no heat behind it. Besides, Scott was aware now that most of these reactions were just for show.

Logan got into bed and then it was his turn to watch as Scott stripped down to a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Scott joined him a moment later. Logan automatically reached for him, pulling Scott against him so that he could curl into him. This felt familiar too for some reason.

“Should we talk about this?” Logan mumbled before sleep overtook him.

“Probably,” Scott answered. “But it can wait until morning. You know,” he said, after a moment. “We’re not so great at talking.”

“But we’re great at other things,” Logan said. He couldn’t help himself. At Scott’s fond, semi-exasperated sigh, he added, “I know. I know. Yer too tired.” The truth was, he didn’t feel much like having sex himself. But this was nice. Sharing a bed with Scott, holding him, being…domestic. Was this what it had been like for five months?

“We’re gonna be all right, aren’t we, Cyke?”

“We already are.”

Fin.