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Weeks had passed, yet Logan could still feel the moment when each jagged branch fragment tore through his core. He thought that was it. Finally, he could close his eyes and be free of all of the pain, the countless scars etched onto his body and soul. It’s why he softened just for that moment, for Laura. He allowed himself to tear the wall down and held her hand tight while he conjured some soft words he hoped would stick with her. It wasn’t enough, he knew that. But she deserved something despite it all.
Her little pleas, her tears, the way she clung to him. It was all he could remember before everything faded to black. But now, Logan’s eyes were back open, laying back on a stiff motel bed, and his gaze fixed on his daughter flipping through a comic book at the edge.
He didn’t know how he was still alive, how Laura managed to get him to Eden, or how he managed to escape his fate once more. The medical team had explained countless times. But each recount fell upon deaf ears once he became more conscious; every thought had shifted to one thing.
Laura.
She didn’t leave his sight once he awoke; those wild eyes constantly examined him as if he was truly there with her. Desperately, Logan wanted to fall to his knees and take Laura into his arms, but he just couldn’t— not yet. Fear still gripped him, things could have all gone to shit right as he allowed himself to love her the way he could.
It caught Logan by complete surprise when she asked them to leave Eden. So much blood and fire to get there, and it was the closest she had to a family and home. It all seemed to be pushed to the back of her mind— She just wanted to be with Logan. He obliged, of course. But god damn, he didn’t want her to regret it.
They had barely spoken, to the point where it was racking Logan’s brain to say something. But what was there to say? After everything, he welcomed the quiet, the peace. He would catch Laura glancing at him every so often, as if the same dilemma plagued her.
His attention shifted back and forth from the Western movie Laura had put on the TV to her. Logan counted the fifth attempt of her fighting to keep her hair out of her face while she read. Hearing her frustrated sighs amused him at first, but a thought came to him. Something so unfamiliar.
"Laura,” Logan attempted to softly call out.
It was like a loud and sharp alarm went off with the way Laura immediately shot her attention to him, eyes alert. A laugh slipped through his nose at the sight. He really couldn’t blame her for scaring so easily. Logan attempted to flash her a gentler look and motioned her over to his side of the bed. Her brow furrowed at the request, but still hopped off the bed. Each step was so hesitant and measured.
He laughed again, “Everything’s alright, kid. Just come ‘ere.”
His muscles ached as he sat up to meet at the edge. Despite having his healing back, Logan’s body was still tired— a little expected after all it had been through, really. Rest was something he could never grow accustomed to in the past, yet now, it’s all he wanted.
“Do you need help?” Logan heard her ask, voice barely above a whisper.
Too quickly, he shook his head no. He kicked himself for it; it was a defense mechanism, and he still couldn’t shake it. “I’m alright. Turn around for a second.”
The concern marking her face shifted into a scowl as she obliged, one that was all too familiar to him. ‘She’s like you, very much like you.’
Charles’ words rang true more and more with each moment Logan spent with Laura.
“It’s alright,” Logan repeated, softer. Her little form was tense while he brought her closer to him. He kept reminding himself to be patient with her and more gentle. But shit, he didn’t even know if he remembered how to be.
Logan took Laura’s hair into his large hands with a slow and delicate movement. It was soft and fine like silk against his calloused skin, not course and wild like his. His fingers moved to brush the hair framing her face and held it there for a moment.
Shit. How did Rogue teach me how to do it?
Oh, right.
His own brow furrowed into a deep concentration while he separated her hair into three uneven sections. Logan nearly felt a sweat growing while he hesitated, trying to recall the next steps. Laura was perfectly still while he crossed one lock over the other. He tuned into the few times she opened her mouth to speak, but remained hushed while he worked. After a few more twists, Logan held the end of the lopsided braid in his hand.
“Shit,” he muttered, realizing he had nothing to secure it. Frantically, Logan scanned the room. “Hold this. Will ya?”
Logan grabbed her hand and brought it back to her hair. He shot up from the bed and shuffled over to his backpack. He dug his hand down deep to the bottom, blindly fishing through his few things. To his luck, he pulled out a worn and frayed one. He didn’t have the faintest clue why he had it, though at one point he remembered a whole collection from the ones he cleaned out of the limo.
It was hard to stifle the proud smirk on his face when he returned to Laura. She still studied him still when he sat back down, eyeing the band in his grip. Remembering again to be tender, Logan took her hand and brought it back down to her side. He secured the braid in place quickly, still not denying the pinprick of pride when he admired his work.
His hands drifted down to her shoulders, and he slowly turned her around to face him. Logan knew what Laura looked like, of course. But it was the first time he could truly look at this child, his child. Those dark, wild, eyes appeared softer as he studied her. Memories of his mother were so clouded that he couldn’t truly envision what she looked like, but little aspects were there in Laura’s face. He saw himself as well, in her brow, chin, and ears, too, now that he could see them.
“Lookin’ good, kid,” Logan murmured, without thinking. His hands still were atop her shoulders as he searched her face for a reaction. Laura was just as unreadable as he was, but it didn’t concern him. Logan just smiled, a small but genuine one as he held her. He remembered his first time; moments before he believed it would be the last time he could.
“Go see,” he spoke again, gesturing to the mirror while pulling himself out of his thoughts. He caught something in her steps while she walked away. Finally, Logan watched her carry herself as an actual kid, not like hunted prey on high alert.
Leaning back into the bed, he saw her fiddling with the hair and twirling around to see the braid. Logan allowed himself to think back for a moment, to the ridiculous nights spent with Rogue and Kitty discussing how they were going to impress Bobby and Piotr.
He took a deep breath, trying not to let that festering pain wash over the good memories. He focused in on Laura again. “You like it, kid?”
Laura turned back from the mirror, eyes meeting Logan's with something akin to a shy smile. "Yes," she whispered, voice still barely audible. "Me encanta."
"I’ll show you how to do it next time.”
There was a glint in her eyes at the last two words. Logan simply nodded his head, assuring her, before motioning to join him. Laura settled back on the bed, albeit reluctantly. Logan laughed again, his own grin still hadn’t left his face. Not wanting to alarm her, he cautiously brought his right arm around her and pulled her in to lean against him. He felt Laura freeze at his touch but softened quickly when she brought her head to rest on his shoulder.
There was so much Logan still wanted to do. He wanted to pull her in closer, take the moment to remind her over and over that she was safe and he wasn’t going to leave her again. But he stopped himself, content with Laura tucked close to his side and letting his fingers absently coil around her braided hair. He wondered if she already knew if he ever needed to tell her.
The credits were rolling on television, and the sun was setting behind the partially closed curtain. They couldn’t stay hidden away like this forever, Logan knew, but they didn’t need to be on the run. There had to have been a place with some semblance of safety.
“Alberta,” he thought aloud.
That little glower returned to Laura’s face when she looked up at him. She waited for him to speak again.
“The mountains out west. It’s where I’m from,” Logan continued. He doted on the thought more, fixated on the quiet and vastness of its nature. Laura would’ve liked it there. “Wanna go?”
Laura sat up, her eyes not leaving him. She sat in silence for a moment, evaluating his words, before nodding her head.
“We’ll head that way in the morning,” Logan whispered, gathering her into his arms to lie back down. “We‘ll go home.”