Logan And Wade - Tumblr Posts

“Night Terrors and Novelties”

Summary: Logan's nightmares make him fear he's killed Wade, but Wade always wakes up and reassures him he's staying.

Logan’s eyes snapped open in the dead of night, the familiar darkness of the room closing in around him like a suffocating shroud. His heart was pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of his nightmare faded, leaving a deep, gnawing dread in their wake. His hands were cold, and he realized, with a sinking feeling, that his claws were already out, stained with blood.

No, no, no… not again.

His gaze fell to Wade beside him, his body still, the sheets soaked red. Logan’s breath caught in his throat. For a second, he was frozen—he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He had done this. Again.

He wrenched his claws out of Wade’s chest, his hands trembling as he backed away, the metallic tang of blood filling his nose. “Wade… Wade, wake up,” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of his panic. His heart hammered in his chest like a war drum, each beat louder than the last. “Please… don’t be dead.”

But Wade didn’t move.

The seconds stretched on, each one a lifetime of guilt, fear, and self-loathing. Logan felt his stomach twist painfully, his chest tightening until he could barely breathe. Memories of past mistakes, past losses, crashed down on him like a wave—Jean’s lifeless face, Mariko’s broken body, the countless others who had paid the price for getting too close. And now Wade…

“No, please… God, no…” Logan whispered, his voice broken, choked with emotion. He sank to his knees beside the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hadn’t felt this kind of terror in years, this raw, primal fear that he was a danger to everyone he cared about, that he was destined to hurt them, to destroy them.

He reached out, hesitating, afraid to touch Wade, to confirm what he already feared. But then Wade gasped suddenly, a ragged breath filling his lungs, and his eyes fluttered open. Logan’s heart lurched, relief flooding through him so violently it nearly brought him to tears.

Wade blinked up at him, disoriented, before a familiar, pained grin spread across his face. “Oh, great,” he wheezed, voice strained but still laced with that damn humor. “Didn’t know I was auditioning for a remake of Psycho tonight. You got me good, Logan.”

Logan’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He felt the tears sting his eyes, and he turned his head away, ashamed. “Wade… I thought… I thought I killed you.”

Wade chuckled softly, though it came out more as a wheeze. “Nah, buddy. You’ll have to try a little harder than that.” But when he saw the look on Logan’s face—the fear, the guilt—his smile faltered. Wade’s expression softened, a rare seriousness settling over him.

He reached out, his hand brushing Logan’s, blood still seeping from the wound that was already starting to close. “Logan,” he said quietly, “I’m okay. I can’t die, remember?”

But Logan’s shoulders sagged, his eyes glassy. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion. “I still did this. I still—hurt you.”

Wade sat up slowly, wincing a little but never breaking his gaze from Logan’s. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to. I know that.”

Logan shook his head, his jaw clenched, his breath coming out in harsh, uneven bursts. “Doesn’t change anything,” he said, his voice low, haunted. “Every damn time… every time I close my eyes… I see them. The ones I couldn’t save. The ones I—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “And now… you.”

Wade’s face softened even more, his usually flippant demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic tenderness. He scooted closer, ignoring the pain still radiating from his chest. “Logan… listen to me. I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

But Logan’s eyes were distant, his hands still trembling. “I can’t… I can’t lose another person, Wade. I can’t wake up one day and find out that I… that I killed you for real.”

Wade’s grip tightened on Logan’s arm, pulling him closer, his voice firmer. “You’re not gonna lose me. Not like this. I’m tougher than I look. And besides,” he added, his tone softening again, “I’d come back just to haunt your ass if you did.”

Logan let out a hollow, bitter laugh, but the fear didn’t leave his eyes. Wade’s thumb brushed gently over Logan’s knuckles, trying to steady the shaking in his hands.

The next few nights, it happened again. And again. Logan would wake up in a cold sweat, claws out, eyes wide with terror. Wade would stir moments later, a groan escaping his lips as he sat up, his chest or side or shoulder freshly wounded but already healing.

Each time, Wade would pull Logan close, repeating, “I’m here, I’m okay,” until Logan’s breathing slowed, until the tension in his muscles eased just a fraction. But Logan’s eyes always held that haunted look, the one that said he was reliving every nightmare, every failure, every moment where he’d been too late to save someone.

One night, after another episode, Logan sat at the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. Wade watched him, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t caused by his healing wounds.

“Logan,” Wade whispered, leaning forward, “you’re still here too. You’re still fighting. And I know it’s hard… but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me.”

Logan’s shoulders shook, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “But what if I lose you?” he choked out. “What if one day… I’m not fast enough?”

Wade slid beside him, wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You won’t,” he murmured. “And even if you did, I’d come back. I always do. For you.”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes shut tight against the tears threatening to fall. Wade held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances, staying with him until the sun began to rise, and the nightmares were just shadows fading in the light.

But even in the daylight, Wade could see the sadness in Logan’s eyes, the way he carried his grief like an open wound. And all Wade could do was hold him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could keep the darkness at bay for one more night.

And so, they sat there in the quiet of the morning, Wade’s hand never leaving Logan’s, his voice a steady, soothing murmur in the silence, promising over and over again that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how many times Logan’s fears tried to say otherwise.

I can’t figure out how to use the read more option sorry😅

Okay so.

What if Logan had a nightmare episode where he wakes up all claws out and stabbing Wade in the chest.

What if he forgot that Wade can’t die from that?

What if Wade didn’t wake up straight away and Logan panicked thinking he’d killed another partner?

But when Wade wakes up, very much not dead, more just huffy that one of his stupid novelty shirts got ripped than anything, and Logan just has to hold him for a little.

Wade kinda realises after this happens more than once of why Logan panics, and so after a few recurring incidents, Wade comforts him, reminds Logan that he’s okay, that he’s still there no matter how many times he gets skewered.

I dunno I think the angsty fluffy potential of that is good