Charles Xavier rolled into his office resolutely. His team of mutant vigilantes sat, shell shocked after his admission that he still, after a week, had been not been able to find a trace of their missing teammate.
Logan, the Wolverine, feral, healer, resident badass, beloved - though sometimes grudgingly so - teacher, mentor, friend...
If anyone had asked him which of the members of his team he would have most expected to lose, Logan would have been the last, he just... was. No matter what, for almost ten years, the one constant had been Logan. No matter how bad the going got, it had always been Logan carrying in the wounded, assisting the doctors with triage, and the team with physical therapy he never needed no matter how many bullets he took. Pushing the team, particularly the youngest members, to return every time stronger and better than ever. A common threat to hear from Logan was that he “don’t want to drag your sorry ass out of there again, next time I might just decide to leave you there, then you're really going to be up shit creek without a paddle, so move your ass!"
At the same time, perhaps it shouldn't surprise him that it was Logan, the man often took excessive risks. Like this time, he knew the base was at imminent risk of destruction, he went back anyway. Two mutants had still been trapped below ground, he wouldn't leave them behind but he made sure everyone else was out before he went back. Charles had reviewed the body camera footage from the team that had returned, viewed the aerial footage of the site, and even intercepted the communications from the military that had forced them away from the area or risk capture. The thought anyone could have survived was laughable, still he had tried, not willing to give up hope. Now though...
Slowly he wheeled into place behind his desk, placing a plain brown envelope on the surface in front of him.
"Logan had a will?" Scott asked, looking up in surprise.
"Initially no, not when he first joined the team, perhaps he became closer to us, I don't rightly know, about three years ago he added his last will and testament to the collection... I never thought I would ever have need or opportunity to see what was in here," Charles murmured, reverently laying his hand on top of the document. After a moment's silence, he pulled out a letter opener, and split the seal.
Inside the envelope where a sheaf of papers, and another smaller envelope. Collecting the papers Charles set aside, with a surprised frown, two property deeds, registration papers for Logan's truck. Followed by a bank account removal of signatory authorisation form, and the letter; the name 'Marie' catching his eye where it was scrawled across the front of the sealed envelope.
Kitty picked up the passport that was sitting on the top of the box of Logan's personal effects, on a desk off to the side of the room. She giggled softly, sadly, when she read the details. "Logan's surname was McKinley... Who picked that?" she asked softly, an almost sob in her voice.
"Logan's remarkable sense of humour, he picked it himself, he stated he was ‘likely older than dirt and already named after one hunk of rock, at least it would be something stable to build his new life on’," Charles replied, recalling that conversation with fondness. It had been not long after Logan had first arrived at the school, he needed good fake ID, or rather real ID, for various reasons, and for that he had needed a name.
Pulling out the will with a solemn grimace, Charles began to read.
~Chuck, you're likely to be the first one to read this, bet you never expected to see what was in here. Honestly, I never thought I'd even be writing this but things change.
If any of the geeks are expecting to get anything from me they can kiss my ass, assuming you ever managed to find it. All my worldly possessions I leave to Marie to do with what she will.
I know what you're all thinking, 'who the fuck is Marie', well, I'll tell you who Marie is, she's only the best damn thing to ever happen to me. Now if nothing happened to me, you likely would never know about her, I won't be renewing my contract again when the five years is up, I'm just going to disappear, her and me into the ether and fuck the rest of you... Of course, if you're reading this shit went bad, I just hope like hell that whatever took me out didn't get anyone else, and I'm sorry to leave you this task in particular.
You'll find Marie, Mrs Marie McKinley, at 12794 Barrington Loop, Willow, Alaska. If Scott's still around, I'd ask him to take the shitty task of breaking the news to her. Asshole move on my part I know but that stick up your ass may as well be good for something, and if you can give her something to lean on for a bit I would appreciate it. That would be a debt I can never repay but know it would mean a lot to me. Don't go into too much detail about whatever happened to me, I don't expect it to have been pretty. I've included a letter for Marie as well; don't you go poking your noses in that one, that's just for her.
If you could take all my stuff up to her that would be appreciated. The truck she probably won't need, it's a piece of shit compared to the one she's got, but she can sell it for a fair bit. Chuck, if you can help her out, making sure all the property and bank accounts get into her sole name I'd appreciate it. I don't have a lot to leave her but she's going to need everything she can get.
When I'm writing this, I just found out I'm going to be a dad; nothing like procreation to suddenly remind you the inevitable conclusion of life. I don't know right now if it's a girl or a boy but if you could keep tabs on Marie as the kid grows I'd appreciate that too. Marie's a mutant, so the kid will probably be one as well, she should be able to handle whatever the gene pool chucks at the kid; if she needs any help I hope you're in a position to help her.
You're probably even more curious now as to why I never told any of you about her, well, my private life is my private life, and that's all there is to it; I like keeping the work and family separate. This way I don't have to worry about her getting caught up in this shit, getting found out by the Brotherhood, or the FOH, she's safe and happy at home waiting for me. Of course it means I only get to see her for a couple of months in the summer but that's not the end of the world. Absence sure does make the heart grow fonder all right, and my fucking balls are fond as hell too and it's only November...
Anyway, I've rambled enough, hope you got a laugh or two out of this, and don't any of you jackasses cry over me. I’m not there to pull your asses out of trouble anymore so be careful, first one of you fuckers to join me in hell gets your ass kicked.
Thanks for the memories.
Logan~
"Logan's married?" Jean asked in surprise, though really looking back on his behaviour it shouldn't surprise her. He had gotten over his teasing crush on her several years ago now, they had settled into a comfortable friendship, only flirting harmlessly to rub Scott up the wrong way, which she would never admit was actually all kinds of fun. She had always assumed he was getting it elsewhere... but a wife!? That was not a level of commitment she would have expected Logan to go for.
"Logan's a father!" Kitty replied, even more shocked by that admission. The picture that statement conjured in her mind, badass of badasses, Wolverine, growling, snarling, decked out in leather, as he read bedtime stories to a curly haired toddler, and scared off invisible monsters under the bed with his shiny metal claws, made her smile. Until her vision of Logan melted away, leaving behind a sobbing child to be choked by the shadows around them. She shuddered as she shook that image away.
"... His family is probably waiting to hear from him, we should go as soon as possible," Scott murmured a moment later. "I'll load Logan's truck into the jet, someone else bring down the rest of his stuff, anyone who is coming be ready to leave in an hour." Scott rose and walked out before anything else could be said. He and Logan may have rubbed each other the wrong way, a lot, but they had always held a deep respect for each other; losing his teammate had been harder than he had ever imagined.
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