Chapter Text
Logan was in the shadows of the hangar bay smoking a cigar when the Blackbird landed. Unbeknownst to the other X-Men, Wolverine had taken to spending more time in the underground bay. It was not a coincidence that Cyclops also spent a lot of time in the hangar, usually tinkering with his beloved Blackbird. But Logan made sure that his presence remained undetected. He understood that the Blackbird and the bay was a kind of sanctuary for the field leader of the X-Men, and contrary to popular belief, Logan didn’t want to intrude on that sanctuary. Instead, he preferred to watch Cyclops from afar. When this had turned into a habit Logan wasn’t too sure, and he would certainly never admit to his little habit-bordering-on-creepy-stalker-behavior, especially when Cyclops was concerned.
The bay had been empty in more than just a physical sense since Scott had stormed off to Magneto’s stronghold in the Savage Land. That had taken real balls, and Logan had been grudgingly impressed that the teacher’s pet, the perfect Boy Scout had not only defied his surrogate father’s wishes, but had defected to the other team . . . and had taken the Blackbird with him. That last detail always made Logan smile. Rebellion was a word he didn’t associate with Scott Summers.
Never mind that Wolverine had technically worked for the ‘other team’ and had been sent to the X-Men by Magneto to assassinate Charles Xavier. The truth was that coming to the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children was exactly what Logan had expected it to be, and nothing like what Logan had thought it would be. He thought the job would be relatively quick and straightforward, no different from any other job that Magneto had given him before. He’d gain entrance to the school, he’d earn Xavier’s trust, and when the opportunity presented itself . . . Well, that would be the end of that.
Except that it wasn’t.
Marvel Girl had caught his eye, and then he’d warmed to the misfit X-Men: Beast with his genius IQ and impressive (sometimes X-rated) Danger Room simulations; Iceman and his sense of humor; Storm’s no nonsense attitude; and Colossus, the former mob enforcer turned gentle giant. Finally, there was Cyclops the strategist – cool, unflappable, and seemingly with a permanent steel rod up his ass. Logan perversely wanted to shatter that façade, wanted to get under the other man’s skin, had fantasized more than once of putting something else up Cyclops’ ass. He couldn’t explain what it was about Scott Summers that drew him to the other man, but there was definitely something there. Which is why Wolverine stayed as far away from Summers as he could while simultaneously goading him as much as possible, including stealing Summers’ would-be girlfriend – not that Marvel Girl had put up much of a fight.
Logan supposed he could attribute his uncharacteristic behavior to the mental powers of Charles Xavier (he didn’t think Chuck was as benevolent and magnanimous as the others made him out to be, as the Professor portrayed himself to be), except that wouldn’t be accurate. Weapon X may have fucked him up real good, but their training had also given him the ability to his shield his thoughts against psionic manipulation. On more than one occasion he’d felt the probing of both Xavier and Marvel Girl, and after blocking their efforts they’d left him in peace. At least, mentally. Charles Xavier had tried a more traditional approach with him – talking. To his shock, Wolverine listened. Charles was charismatic. Persuasive. Intelligent. In many ways, he reminded Wolverine of Magneto. Somewhere along the line – Logan couldn’t pinpoint when – he’d bought into Charles Xavier’s dream of co-integration.
Sure, the X-Men were still skeptical about him despite what he’d done to help stop Magneto’s plans to destroy the United States. Jean had said as much in their little shouting match in one of the corridors of the mansion as Scott had wheeled the Professor by. Logan had only been half-listening to Jean at that point, his senses more attuned to the scent of Summers – a scent he’d missed while Scott had sojourned in the Savage Land. He was leaving the following day and he’d avoided Summers for long enough. He was going to have a word with the field leader of the X-Men before he departed, and what happened in that conversation might just shape his future actions, especially where the X-Men were concerned.
That’s why after Jean had finished yelling at him, Wolverine had skulked back to the spacious rec room where the rest of the team could be found. Storm was sprawled asleep on a sofa, a magazine half falling off of her lap. Piotr was relaxing in a large rattan armchair at the back of the room, softly strumming his guitar as he watched the antics of Hank and Bobby who were riveted to the widescreen TV and the video game in which they were both completely absorbed. Logan had plopped down on the matching sofa opposite Storm, watching through his peripheral vision as Cyclops had wheeled the Professor to the wide verandah behind the rec room. From where he was sitting, Logan had a good vantage point of those two. He’d give Summers time to make up with his mentor and then he was going to have the first X-Man all to himself.
Logan made himself comfortable on the plush sofa as he surveyed the peaceful and shockingly mundane scene about him. It was a far cry from the poker nights, the drinking and the crass jokes he’d shared while on stakeouts with the Brotherhood. Everything at this school was just so damn wholesome. He should’ve felt out of place, he should’ve been corrupting young minds. Instead, the thought that occurred to him as he cheered Beast on was, This is what friendship is.
* * * * *
It was good to be back.
That was the thought running through Scott Summers’ mind as he appreciated the last embers of the sunset as he looked over the school grounds. Westchester County was peaceful, the location of the school a perfect idyll. The Savage Land had its own kind of beauty, wild and untamed, but this was where Scott belonged. He would never doubt that again.
Scott hadn’t known what to expect when he arrived back at the School. The Professor’s anger? His resentment at Scott’s betrayal? His disappointment? (That last reaction would’ve crushed Scott. He’d take anger and resentment over disappointment any day.) He hadn’t known how his teammates would react to his return either. He’d essentially abandoned them, probably when they needed him most, and rabbited off to Magneto of all people. It was very un-leader like behavior. Maybe Xavier was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t fit to lead the X-Men after all.
Out of all the possible scenarios running through his head, the one he’d considered the least likely was the one that had taken place – he was welcomed back with open arms. The team had been thrilled to see him, Bobby slapping him on the back with a frosted hand and Marvel Girl crushing him with a fierce hug.
“Don’t ever do that again!” Jean had mentally admonished him as she’d hugged him. It made Scott feel warm inside to see Jean’s open and sincere affection for him.
“We missed those optic blasts of yours in battle,” Beast had said, good-humoredly.
“Yeah, nothing like sheer raw power to lobotomize a Sentinel,” Storm had added.
“I hear well-placed lightning strikes are just as effective,” Scott had replied.
Storm’s mouth had dropped open in shock. “Did leader man just make a joke?” she’d asked the others in mock horror.
“Hey,” Jean had said, slinging an arm about Scott’s shoulders. “Cyclops has a great sense of humor . . . when you get to know him better,” she’d added, giving Scott a warm smile that almost made him blush.
Gathered around him in the hangar, the team had laughed and Scott wondered what he’d done to deserve such loyalty and such good friends. In the distance, he’d been aware of Wolverine’s presence but he hadn’t acknowledged the other man.
Now it was Wolverine who was striding across the verandah shortly after the Professor had departed. Scott watched the other man, remembering the Professor’s words. Wolverine had proven himself an X-Man in the Professor’s eyes. He’d earned the right to be called an X-Man. If he was good enough for Charles Xavier, then he was good enough for Cyclops too, although thinking of Wolverine as a ‘teammate’ would still take some getting used to.
Logan was carrying two beers. He held the other one out to Scott in offering when he stopped in front of the small table where the Professor and Scott had been sitting.
Scott looked at Logan once before glancing at the beer. “You do realize that I’m underage?” he said after a moment.
Somehow Logan managed to hold back a sigh. “Figures,” he muttered. In a louder voice he said, “You can share a glass of bubbly with Chuck but not a beer with me?”
Scott gave him a wry smile. “With your senses,” he began. “I thought you’d be able to tell that we drank non-alcoholic cider.”
Logan wasn’t surprised. Of course, Cyclops followed the Professor’s no underage drinking rule. That was one of the reasons why he went on beer runs with Storm.
“Brought you this,” Logan said instead, reaching behind him for the can of orange juice that was his back-up plan.
This time Cyclops took the orange juice, opening the can just as Logan popped open his beer.
“What’s the occasion?” Scott asked.
Logan shrugged off-handedly. “Oh, I dunno,” he said casually. “Saving humanity?”
“Didn’t think that was part of your repertoire,” Scott observed.
“I’m expanding,” Logan answered. He held out his beer wondering if Scott would share a toast with him.
There was the clink of metal against metal and then they were both drinking. Scott was watching him thoughtfully when he put down his can of orange juice.
“Is this your idea of a peace offering?” he asked eventually.
“Ya can call it whatever ya want, Cyke,” Logan replied.
Scott sat down at the table and Logan took that to be an invitation to join him.
“You and me,” Logan said, gesturing between them. “What we need is a clean slate.”
“Does Wolverine do clean slates?” Scott asked evenly, his voice betraying only a hint of amusement.
“Does Cyclops?” Logan threw back.
Now Scott was smiling, making Logan realize how rarely he ever saw the other man smile, or drop his guard for that matter.
“I can do a clean slate,” Scott said.
“I can as well,” Logan said, just as quickly.
“You really are expanding your repertoire.”
“You say that as if you know me.”
Scott looked down at his orange juice, slowly rotating the can in his hands. “No,” he said thoughtfully, his gaze still averted. “I don’t know you, Logan. Not beyond what I’ve read of your Weapon X files, and what I’ve seen of you in training and on missions.”
“Ya don’t trust me,” Logan said flatly.
Scott looked up again. “The team doesn’t trust you,” he said. “Trust is something that has to be earned,” he added seriously. “You didn’t come here with the best of intentions.”
Logan leaned back in his seat. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “So, what do I gotta do to earn your trust?”
“You could try sticking around for starters.”
“Heard about my little trip, did ya?”
“The Professor mentioned it. And Jean didn’t seem all that pleased with the news either.”
“Trust me, your girlfriend is happy to see me off the reservation.”
Scott could feel himself flush. “Jean’s not my girlfriend,” he corrected.
“She wants to be,” Logan shrugged. “If you ever man up and ask her out.”
Logan could sense the displeasure rolling off of Summers, though the other man gave no outward sign. Time to backtrack, Wolverine thought. For once he wasn’t out to pick a fight with Cyclops.
“Heading to Arizona in the mornin’,” Logan said, taking another drink of his beer.
There was a pause before Summers replied. “What’s in Arizona?”
“Dunno. Weapon X, maybe.”
“Weapon X? That’s what you’re hoping to find?”
“It’s what I’m lookin’ for.”
Scott’s expression had grown thoughtful again. “For revenge?” he asked quietly.
Logan’s smile was predatory. “If that happens, then that happens,” he said, a little too casually. “Y’know, Charley-boy’s interested in finding them too.”
This bit of news got a reaction out of Cyclops. “The Professor plans to take on Weapon X?” he asked a little incredulously.
“Not so sure about that, though the Prof’s none too happy ‘bout what Weapon X is doin’, or who Weapon X is doin’ it for.”
“Well, that’s an understatement,” Scott agreed. “The President said that he would stop all government-sanctioned mutant experimentation and recruitment. I’d say that would put Weapon X right at the top of the list.”
“Weapon X ain’t S.H.I.E.L.D.’s black ops arm for nothin’,” Logan reminded him darkly.
A silence fell between them as Logan finished his beer. He was just opening the second can, the one that he’d originally brought for Summers, when his companion spoke again.
“Feel like some company for your reconnaissance trip?”
“You watchin’ my back or keepin’ an eye on me, Cyclops?”
“A bit of both,” Scott admitted. “Hey, it’s what teammates do.”