Christmas Fic - HP/X-Men - Snow Regrets
Title: Snow Regrets
Pairing: Mentions Remus/Tonks, hint of Logan/Jean (hypothetical)
Summary: Remus and Logan meet one Christmas in the Highlands.
Rating: All
Spoiler Warnings:X-Men comics up to the end of House of M and then only vague because I haven't read it all myself. Harry Potter through HBP.
Word Count: 3,131
Disclaimer: No profit is being made, blah, blah, blah. Logan and related Marvel characters copyright Marvel, Remus and related Potter characters copyright JK Rowling and the usual suspects. They are not mine - if they were Logan would be over Jean and the books would be about Remus.
Notes: Well here it is. My first offering. Harry Potter/X-Men crossover starring Remus and Logan. Feedback is love and concrit much appreciated. Unbeta-ed so all mistakes are mine. Just a little bit of Christmassy fic - there will be more Christmas related fic later. Also: Yes - the title is a really bad pun. *headdesk*
It wasn’t that Logan hated Christmas. Hell, he’d had his fair share of good ones over the years - and more than his share of bad ones. But that was the point - how many he’d had. Having an accelerated healing factor that essentially meant he could never die and barely aged meant a lot of long years without release.
Being with the X-Men provided him with something like happiness for the first time in a long time. So long that he thought he might have forgotten what that was like. And sure, it was fun to be around the Mansion at Christmas - watching the psionics raising decorations and the newest kids gaping in awe at the sheer size of the Christmas tree Piotr would bring into the entrance hall (and damn him if it wasn’t strange to think about Piotr being able to do that again this year.
Having to dodge Kurt and his repeated entreaties to attend a Christmas service (and that was strange too, the elf had been quiet about that for a while.
Having to dodge Kitty, mad on Christmas spirit, trying to catch him unawares with mistletoe (the strangeness of the other two things combined couldn’t compare to the strangeness of Kitty Pryde appearing out of a wall every time you passed under a sprig of mistletoe.
This year - with Jeannie gone and all the alternate universe business (and boy was Logan tired of that sort of thing) Logan was too tired to put up with it for long. So he slipped out of the mansion in the dead of the night and resolved to get some space.
Canada was the perfect place for that, of course, but Canada held too many memories. It was hard not to think about Jean-Paul when he thought about Canada. And the death of a fellow X-Man at his hands was a hard thing to think about in a long history of hard things to think about. Even if Hydra did bring him back to life. Even after all that other business that Logan hates to think about.
No - too many recently unearthed memories came into focus when he even considered heading out to Canada again. And he really wanted to get away from them more than anything.
Wouldn’t feel right to go somewhere without snow though. It was still Christmas and that had always equalled snow in Logan’s mind. The Westchester climate had never sat right with him and one of the best Christmases at the mansion he could think of was the one when Bobby turned the mansion grounds into a snowy mess.
He made contact with an old friend and headed off across the pond. Figured he’d try his luck in Scotland. Moira had always swore that when she ‘was a young wee lass’ the snow had been three foot deep in her Highland home town. Logan liked the sound of that. Besides - the Scots really knew how to brew a good beer and he could do with a few of them.
* * *
It wasn’t that Remus didn’t like Christmas. On the contrary some of his best memories revolved around Christmas. And that was rather the point. Remus found himself given over to reflection around Christmas time and that was not something he was overly fond of. Being the last living member of a tight-knit group of friends would do that to you.
Being with the Order again had given him a sense of purpose he had not known for a long time. And a sense of happiness that he felt bad about. It didn’t seem right that in such a terrible time he would find such happiness. But simply belonging somewhere again filled him up inside.
Christmas with the Order had proven a jolly affair, all things considered. Molly had always provided a sumptuous feast (Dumbledore always swore that he never met a more talented witch when it came to domestic charms) and the Christmas tree, although nowhere near as huge as the ones Hagrid would drag into Hogawarts each year, was liberally festooned with every type of decoration that could be found.
Remus would never forget the year that the Weasley twins had decorated the tree with ornaments of their own devising that alternately sung off-key renditions of popular Christmas songs and sprayed liberal amounts of spelled fake snow.
The twins had been thoughtful enough to weave a permanent sticking charm into the snow and Molly’s shouts could be heard from the other side of Ottery St Catchpole when she discovered it. Remus and decided discretion was the better part of valour and neglected to mention that the ornaments had permanent sticking charms on them as well.
After all - he hadn’t hung around with two of Hogwarts most celebrated pranksters without learning a thing or two about covering his tracks. James and Sirius would have been most proud he was sure.
And that was the heart of the matter he supposed. He missed James and Sirius at Christmas. Sirius chasing girls around Hogwarts with mistletoe floating above his head. James charming Peter’s shoes so that whenever he took a step they would start producing Christmas carols.
And then later at Grimauld Place with the Order and Sirius and Harry and for a moment everything feeling right.
And how tired he was the following year. Tired of Nymp…Tonks pressing him continuously and her not understanding. Tired of running with Greyback and finding more and more scars after every full moon because of it. Tired of being scared that he would be found out. Tired of being frightened for Harry. Tired of missing Sirius and James.
So this year - so many years after Harry had freed the wizarding world for ever - when Molly invited him and Tonks to some kind of Order reunion Christmas celebration he politely declined, pleading illness with a sincerity Sirius would have been proud of, but urged Tonks to go and tell him all about it later. She had favoured him with a sceptical look he had come to know well during his time with her but in the end she had given him the benefit of the doubt.
Remus decided to go north, to Scotland, to happy memories. To raise a glass to his departed friends and reminisce about old times long forgotten.
* * *
Logan smells it the moment he walks through the door of the pub. It’s so strong that he almost pops his claws then and there. Something instinctual tells him that that’s likely to be a bad idea.
He turns his head, sniffing lightly, and spots the shabbily dressed man secreted in a corner booth. It’s a feral smell - one he recognises. It reminds him a little of Rahne - the way he could always smell the wolf on her even when she was in human form.
It would be typical that he would choose the only pub in town with another mutant sitting in it. Still - there was something about the guy that was a little off. A sense of defeat in his scent - and to this day Logan is never certain how he can tell how someone feels just by smelling them.
He orders at the bar - tells the guy to give him whatever everyone else is having and takes it over to the corner booth. He doesn’t know why he has this sudden urge to play Xavier but figures he at least owes it to the other guy to extend the hand of friendship.
“Mind if I sit down?” Logan asks, motioning with his free hand. The guy looks up at him, startled, as if he hasn’t been spoken to in a while. Or as if he doesn’t expect to be spoken to.
“Certainly,” he says after a moment of staring at Logan, no doubt taking in the state of his clothing and comparing it to his own. Which would be a pretty easy comparison to make.
Logan slides into the seat and sets the pint glass down cautiously. He’s never quite gotten used to the shape of the glass in this part of the world. He’s so used to drinking straight out of a bottle that the formality of a glass seems a little wasted on him.
The guy is still staring at him like he’s something out of a b-movie and Logan realises he hasn’t introduced himself. He extends a hand across the table and the other guy hesitantly takes it. There’s a strength in the grip that Logan associates with mutations like Rahne’s. They’re always stronger than they look.
“Name’s Logan,” Logan says, resisting the unbidden urge to say James instead. Not for the first time he curses reality-altering crises.
“Remus,” the other guy says, withdrawing his hand. For a moment Logan thinks that it’s an odd sounding name before he reminds himself that he regularly hangs around with people who are in the habit of referring to themselves as ‘Cyclops’ and ‘Nightcrawler’ and ‘Iceman’. He smiles and so does Remus - although probably not at the same thing.
Logan reaches into his jacket and pulls out a half-smoked cigar. He pauses for a moment and looks at Remus.
“Do ya mind if I -?” he asks, waving the cigar through the air.
Remus shakes his head.
“It’s not illegal, yet,” he says, smiling at a joke only he gets.
For Logan there’s nothing like a long drag on a thick cigar to relax him. That first inhalation is always better than those that follows. He slouches down in the seat more as the smoke fills him up.
“Better,” says to himself as his breathes back out.
* * *
The scent of the cigar smoke brings unbidden memories of James, Sirius and Peter to Remus’ mind. James had insisted on the peculiar Muggle custom of smoking a cigar at the birth of a child. Sirius had been game, of course, and Peter, always the follower, would do anything for James. Remus had be coerced into it despite his express wishes.
He closed his eyes and let the memories flow over him.
“I know what you are,” Logan says and Remus’ eyes snap open. It’s true that the full moon has only recently passed but he has never exhibited outward signs that Muggles can see even when it is this close.
“I beg your pardon,” he says, watching the other man’s face. Logan leans forward in his seat and takes the cigar from his mouth.
“I could smell it when I came through th’door,” Logan says and Remus feels a kernel of fear form in his mind. Little has been seen of Greyback’s pack since the end of the Second War. In fact not much has been seen of werewolves in general since Voldemort’s fall.
“It don’t mean anythin’, of course,” Logan is saying when Remus can concentrate again, “I’m the same. Jus’ wouldn’t have expected t’ see one of us here”
“One of us?” Remus ventures although his vision is beginning to tunnel. He knows that a lot Greyback’s pack is aware that he was the one who betrayed them from within. That they would do anything to get back at him. He fingers his wand in his pocket and wonders if this man would be mad enough to try anything here. The idea of having to obliviate the whole crowded pub worries him.
“Yeah,” Logan says, “Us. Mutants. Homo Superior. Whatever they’re calling us at th’moment”
Remus blinks as Logan’s words filter through.
“I’ve been called many things in my life,” Remus says, “But never have I been called a mutant”
It’s Logan’s turn to stare and Remus suddenly realises that, even though there is a very feral quality to this man, he couldn’t possibly be a werewolf. He does not bear any of the scars and no matter how hard they try werewolves can never quite hide their exhaustion. Especially not so close to a full moon.
“I think,” Remus says slowly, “That you may have mistaken me for something I’m not”
“You’re tellin’ me that you don’ transform inta somethin’ else?” Logan asks, disbelief in his voice.
“I didn’t say that,” Remus says, shaking his head, “But the reason I do is because I as bitten as a child. Not because of a mutation”
“I know a few people who’d argue against that,” Logan says, leaning back in his seat again and taking a long pull on his cigar, “So what are ya then? If you ain’t a mutant?”
Remus looks at this man with his blunt speech and his smelly cigar and is struck by a familiarity that he can’t place. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he could tell Logan about himself, no questions asked, and that Logan wouldn’t tell anyone about it. The main wears a sense of secrecy like a robe about him.
Remus takes a deep breath and begins to talk.
* * *
Several hours and more pints than he can count later Logan thinks that maybe coming to Scotland was one of the best ideas he ever had.
Remus talked for a long time about being a werewolf and being bitten - which naturally reminded him of Pete - then for even longer about being a wizard and the wizarding world - which reminded him of Strange - and finally about what had happened recently in his life. His friends that had died and this kid that went out and faced some bad guy - who sounded like Sinister, Magneto and Apocalypse rolled into one - and apparently saved the world.
It was a hell of a story but Remus was so serious that Logan found himself believing it.
So Logan returned the favour and told him about mutants and Magneto and Xavier. About Weapon X and Yuriko and Captain America. About alternate realities and, finally, Jeannie. Remus listened and empathised and for one of the first times in his life Logan thought that maybe it was real empathy and not imagined.
After they finished talking, and in a much more drunken state than usual, Remus suggested they take a walk and Logan agreed. Something he almost regretted when they stepped outside the Highland pub to find snow falling. Remus’ eyes had lit up at the sight and Logan decided that he could put up with the chill for the sake of his drinking companion.
Remus lead the way out of town and up a hill, seemingly walking with no purpose and plainly enjoying the snow. He told Logan about this boarding school which sounded like Xavier’s only much, much bigger. He said that every Christmas the students that stayed on the school grounds would go outside and have a massive snowball fight. He said that even House rivalry went out the window and Gryffindors and Slytherins teamed up indiscriminately against anyone who attacked them. Logan didn’t really get what he meant by that but he gathered that it was a good thing.
The snow slows and by the time they reach the top it has stopped altogether. Remus stops and looks down at the valley before them with open admiration.
Logan has to admit that it’s a pretty good view. Although nothing compared to the ones back home. He had earlier made Remus promise to visit Canada with him some day. The way the other guy looks at the scenery makes him think that that was one of his better ideas as well.
They’d bought a bottle of cheap whiskey from the barman, even though Logan prefers bourbon, and Logan proceeds to open it now.
“You got any idea what time it is?” he asks, proud that his words are hardly slurred. He thinks he might already be sobering up and blames the healing factor for that.
* * *
Remus gazes up at the sky and even though it’s overcast and can feel the moon tugging at him. Allowing for the time of year and their position in Scotland he makes it not all that long after midnight. He wonders why they weren’t kicked out of the pub earlier.
“Not long after midnight,” he says, thinking that Professor Nebula would have been proud of him for knowing. But then he was always exceedingly good at Astronomy.
“Huh,” Logan grunts and Remus hears the top come off the bottle, “Merry Christmas I guess”
Remus turns as Logan raises the bottle then takes a long swig. He’s quite a remarkable man when Remus thinks about - practically immortal through a stroke of genetics. What Voldemort wouldn’t have given to study him, he thinks. But thanks to Harry that’s never going to happen and there’s something comforting about the thought. Remus doesn’t like the idea of Logan being subjecting to more tests.
He takes the bottle when Logan hands it to him and takes a swig. The taste of the Muggle whiskey is sharp on his tongue and not at all like the Firewhiskey he and Tonks keep a bottle of for special occasions. He begins to return the salutation when something else tugs at his mind.
“Never was particularly fond of Christmas,” he says, his tongue fumbling along ‘particularly’ with little grace, “So how ‘bout - to lost friends?”
Logan looks at him for a long moment then nods. Remus knows that Logan’s lost more in his lifetime then Remus ever will and the fact that he still gets up every day and saves the world settles a little warmth in Remus’ heart.
“To lost friends,” Remus says again, raising the bottle in a salute before taking another long swig. He hands it toe Logan who echoes the statement and takes a swig of his own.
Remus stares out across the whitened landscape and is surprised to feel himself smiling. He thinks that maybe he’ll apparate to the Burrow in the morning and surprise Tonks. It’d be good to see everyone again, especially Harry who always seems so pleased to see him. He knows that that’s because Harry associates him with his father and Godather - but on reflection Remus understands that that is also exactly reason he likes seeing Harry.
There’s a soft crunching sound that Remus finds vaguely familiar but before he can figure out what it is he is hit in the ear by a hard and very cold ball of snow.
He turns to find Logan grinning at him with a second snowball in his hand.
“I think you’re going to regret that,” Remus says, fingering his wand and wondering if he could get away with spelling some snowballs without the Ministry getting wind of it.
“Tonight I ain’t got any regrets,” Logan says as he throws the second snowball. Remus dodges and as he’s furiously scrabbling at the snow to make his own ball he’s surprised to find that he, too, no longer has any regrets.
Fin
Character Gloss. (for those that don't know the Marvel U): Piotr = Colosuss (recently returned from the dead), Kurt = Nightcrawler, Kitty = Shadowcat, Jeannie = Jean Grey/Phoenix (deceased), Jean-Paul = Northstar, Bobby = Iceman, Moira = Moira McTaggart (Xavier's, uh, lady friend, deceased), Rahne = Wolfsbane, Pete = Spider-Man, Strange = Doctor Strange, Yuriko = Lady Deathstrike (and Logan's fiancee at one point, deceased)
Pairing: Mentions Remus/Tonks, hint of Logan/Jean (hypothetical)
Summary: Remus and Logan meet one Christmas in the Highlands.
Rating: All
Spoiler Warnings:X-Men comics up to the end of House of M and then only vague because I haven't read it all myself. Harry Potter through HBP.
Word Count: 3,131
Disclaimer: No profit is being made, blah, blah, blah. Logan and related Marvel characters copyright Marvel, Remus and related Potter characters copyright JK Rowling and the usual suspects. They are not mine - if they were Logan would be over Jean and the books would be about Remus.
Notes: Well here it is. My first offering. Harry Potter/X-Men crossover starring Remus and Logan. Feedback is love and concrit much appreciated. Unbeta-ed so all mistakes are mine. Just a little bit of Christmassy fic - there will be more Christmas related fic later. Also: Yes - the title is a really bad pun. *headdesk*
It wasn’t that Logan hated Christmas. Hell, he’d had his fair share of good ones over the years - and more than his share of bad ones. But that was the point - how many he’d had. Having an accelerated healing factor that essentially meant he could never die and barely aged meant a lot of long years without release.
Being with the X-Men provided him with something like happiness for the first time in a long time. So long that he thought he might have forgotten what that was like. And sure, it was fun to be around the Mansion at Christmas - watching the psionics raising decorations and the newest kids gaping in awe at the sheer size of the Christmas tree Piotr would bring into the entrance hall (and damn him if it wasn’t strange to think about Piotr being able to do that again this year.
Having to dodge Kurt and his repeated entreaties to attend a Christmas service (and that was strange too, the elf had been quiet about that for a while.
Having to dodge Kitty, mad on Christmas spirit, trying to catch him unawares with mistletoe (the strangeness of the other two things combined couldn’t compare to the strangeness of Kitty Pryde appearing out of a wall every time you passed under a sprig of mistletoe.
This year - with Jeannie gone and all the alternate universe business (and boy was Logan tired of that sort of thing) Logan was too tired to put up with it for long. So he slipped out of the mansion in the dead of the night and resolved to get some space.
Canada was the perfect place for that, of course, but Canada held too many memories. It was hard not to think about Jean-Paul when he thought about Canada. And the death of a fellow X-Man at his hands was a hard thing to think about in a long history of hard things to think about. Even if Hydra did bring him back to life. Even after all that other business that Logan hates to think about.
No - too many recently unearthed memories came into focus when he even considered heading out to Canada again. And he really wanted to get away from them more than anything.
Wouldn’t feel right to go somewhere without snow though. It was still Christmas and that had always equalled snow in Logan’s mind. The Westchester climate had never sat right with him and one of the best Christmases at the mansion he could think of was the one when Bobby turned the mansion grounds into a snowy mess.
He made contact with an old friend and headed off across the pond. Figured he’d try his luck in Scotland. Moira had always swore that when she ‘was a young wee lass’ the snow had been three foot deep in her Highland home town. Logan liked the sound of that. Besides - the Scots really knew how to brew a good beer and he could do with a few of them.
* * *
It wasn’t that Remus didn’t like Christmas. On the contrary some of his best memories revolved around Christmas. And that was rather the point. Remus found himself given over to reflection around Christmas time and that was not something he was overly fond of. Being the last living member of a tight-knit group of friends would do that to you.
Being with the Order again had given him a sense of purpose he had not known for a long time. And a sense of happiness that he felt bad about. It didn’t seem right that in such a terrible time he would find such happiness. But simply belonging somewhere again filled him up inside.
Christmas with the Order had proven a jolly affair, all things considered. Molly had always provided a sumptuous feast (Dumbledore always swore that he never met a more talented witch when it came to domestic charms) and the Christmas tree, although nowhere near as huge as the ones Hagrid would drag into Hogawarts each year, was liberally festooned with every type of decoration that could be found.
Remus would never forget the year that the Weasley twins had decorated the tree with ornaments of their own devising that alternately sung off-key renditions of popular Christmas songs and sprayed liberal amounts of spelled fake snow.
The twins had been thoughtful enough to weave a permanent sticking charm into the snow and Molly’s shouts could be heard from the other side of Ottery St Catchpole when she discovered it. Remus and decided discretion was the better part of valour and neglected to mention that the ornaments had permanent sticking charms on them as well.
After all - he hadn’t hung around with two of Hogwarts most celebrated pranksters without learning a thing or two about covering his tracks. James and Sirius would have been most proud he was sure.
And that was the heart of the matter he supposed. He missed James and Sirius at Christmas. Sirius chasing girls around Hogwarts with mistletoe floating above his head. James charming Peter’s shoes so that whenever he took a step they would start producing Christmas carols.
And then later at Grimauld Place with the Order and Sirius and Harry and for a moment everything feeling right.
And how tired he was the following year. Tired of Nymp…Tonks pressing him continuously and her not understanding. Tired of running with Greyback and finding more and more scars after every full moon because of it. Tired of being scared that he would be found out. Tired of being frightened for Harry. Tired of missing Sirius and James.
So this year - so many years after Harry had freed the wizarding world for ever - when Molly invited him and Tonks to some kind of Order reunion Christmas celebration he politely declined, pleading illness with a sincerity Sirius would have been proud of, but urged Tonks to go and tell him all about it later. She had favoured him with a sceptical look he had come to know well during his time with her but in the end she had given him the benefit of the doubt.
Remus decided to go north, to Scotland, to happy memories. To raise a glass to his departed friends and reminisce about old times long forgotten.
* * *
Logan smells it the moment he walks through the door of the pub. It’s so strong that he almost pops his claws then and there. Something instinctual tells him that that’s likely to be a bad idea.
He turns his head, sniffing lightly, and spots the shabbily dressed man secreted in a corner booth. It’s a feral smell - one he recognises. It reminds him a little of Rahne - the way he could always smell the wolf on her even when she was in human form.
It would be typical that he would choose the only pub in town with another mutant sitting in it. Still - there was something about the guy that was a little off. A sense of defeat in his scent - and to this day Logan is never certain how he can tell how someone feels just by smelling them.
He orders at the bar - tells the guy to give him whatever everyone else is having and takes it over to the corner booth. He doesn’t know why he has this sudden urge to play Xavier but figures he at least owes it to the other guy to extend the hand of friendship.
“Mind if I sit down?” Logan asks, motioning with his free hand. The guy looks up at him, startled, as if he hasn’t been spoken to in a while. Or as if he doesn’t expect to be spoken to.
“Certainly,” he says after a moment of staring at Logan, no doubt taking in the state of his clothing and comparing it to his own. Which would be a pretty easy comparison to make.
Logan slides into the seat and sets the pint glass down cautiously. He’s never quite gotten used to the shape of the glass in this part of the world. He’s so used to drinking straight out of a bottle that the formality of a glass seems a little wasted on him.
The guy is still staring at him like he’s something out of a b-movie and Logan realises he hasn’t introduced himself. He extends a hand across the table and the other guy hesitantly takes it. There’s a strength in the grip that Logan associates with mutations like Rahne’s. They’re always stronger than they look.
“Name’s Logan,” Logan says, resisting the unbidden urge to say James instead. Not for the first time he curses reality-altering crises.
“Remus,” the other guy says, withdrawing his hand. For a moment Logan thinks that it’s an odd sounding name before he reminds himself that he regularly hangs around with people who are in the habit of referring to themselves as ‘Cyclops’ and ‘Nightcrawler’ and ‘Iceman’. He smiles and so does Remus - although probably not at the same thing.
Logan reaches into his jacket and pulls out a half-smoked cigar. He pauses for a moment and looks at Remus.
“Do ya mind if I -?” he asks, waving the cigar through the air.
Remus shakes his head.
“It’s not illegal, yet,” he says, smiling at a joke only he gets.
For Logan there’s nothing like a long drag on a thick cigar to relax him. That first inhalation is always better than those that follows. He slouches down in the seat more as the smoke fills him up.
“Better,” says to himself as his breathes back out.
* * *
The scent of the cigar smoke brings unbidden memories of James, Sirius and Peter to Remus’ mind. James had insisted on the peculiar Muggle custom of smoking a cigar at the birth of a child. Sirius had been game, of course, and Peter, always the follower, would do anything for James. Remus had be coerced into it despite his express wishes.
He closed his eyes and let the memories flow over him.
“I know what you are,” Logan says and Remus’ eyes snap open. It’s true that the full moon has only recently passed but he has never exhibited outward signs that Muggles can see even when it is this close.
“I beg your pardon,” he says, watching the other man’s face. Logan leans forward in his seat and takes the cigar from his mouth.
“I could smell it when I came through th’door,” Logan says and Remus feels a kernel of fear form in his mind. Little has been seen of Greyback’s pack since the end of the Second War. In fact not much has been seen of werewolves in general since Voldemort’s fall.
“It don’t mean anythin’, of course,” Logan is saying when Remus can concentrate again, “I’m the same. Jus’ wouldn’t have expected t’ see one of us here”
“One of us?” Remus ventures although his vision is beginning to tunnel. He knows that a lot Greyback’s pack is aware that he was the one who betrayed them from within. That they would do anything to get back at him. He fingers his wand in his pocket and wonders if this man would be mad enough to try anything here. The idea of having to obliviate the whole crowded pub worries him.
“Yeah,” Logan says, “Us. Mutants. Homo Superior. Whatever they’re calling us at th’moment”
Remus blinks as Logan’s words filter through.
“I’ve been called many things in my life,” Remus says, “But never have I been called a mutant”
It’s Logan’s turn to stare and Remus suddenly realises that, even though there is a very feral quality to this man, he couldn’t possibly be a werewolf. He does not bear any of the scars and no matter how hard they try werewolves can never quite hide their exhaustion. Especially not so close to a full moon.
“I think,” Remus says slowly, “That you may have mistaken me for something I’m not”
“You’re tellin’ me that you don’ transform inta somethin’ else?” Logan asks, disbelief in his voice.
“I didn’t say that,” Remus says, shaking his head, “But the reason I do is because I as bitten as a child. Not because of a mutation”
“I know a few people who’d argue against that,” Logan says, leaning back in his seat again and taking a long pull on his cigar, “So what are ya then? If you ain’t a mutant?”
Remus looks at this man with his blunt speech and his smelly cigar and is struck by a familiarity that he can’t place. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he could tell Logan about himself, no questions asked, and that Logan wouldn’t tell anyone about it. The main wears a sense of secrecy like a robe about him.
Remus takes a deep breath and begins to talk.
* * *
Several hours and more pints than he can count later Logan thinks that maybe coming to Scotland was one of the best ideas he ever had.
Remus talked for a long time about being a werewolf and being bitten - which naturally reminded him of Pete - then for even longer about being a wizard and the wizarding world - which reminded him of Strange - and finally about what had happened recently in his life. His friends that had died and this kid that went out and faced some bad guy - who sounded like Sinister, Magneto and Apocalypse rolled into one - and apparently saved the world.
It was a hell of a story but Remus was so serious that Logan found himself believing it.
So Logan returned the favour and told him about mutants and Magneto and Xavier. About Weapon X and Yuriko and Captain America. About alternate realities and, finally, Jeannie. Remus listened and empathised and for one of the first times in his life Logan thought that maybe it was real empathy and not imagined.
After they finished talking, and in a much more drunken state than usual, Remus suggested they take a walk and Logan agreed. Something he almost regretted when they stepped outside the Highland pub to find snow falling. Remus’ eyes had lit up at the sight and Logan decided that he could put up with the chill for the sake of his drinking companion.
Remus lead the way out of town and up a hill, seemingly walking with no purpose and plainly enjoying the snow. He told Logan about this boarding school which sounded like Xavier’s only much, much bigger. He said that every Christmas the students that stayed on the school grounds would go outside and have a massive snowball fight. He said that even House rivalry went out the window and Gryffindors and Slytherins teamed up indiscriminately against anyone who attacked them. Logan didn’t really get what he meant by that but he gathered that it was a good thing.
The snow slows and by the time they reach the top it has stopped altogether. Remus stops and looks down at the valley before them with open admiration.
Logan has to admit that it’s a pretty good view. Although nothing compared to the ones back home. He had earlier made Remus promise to visit Canada with him some day. The way the other guy looks at the scenery makes him think that that was one of his better ideas as well.
They’d bought a bottle of cheap whiskey from the barman, even though Logan prefers bourbon, and Logan proceeds to open it now.
“You got any idea what time it is?” he asks, proud that his words are hardly slurred. He thinks he might already be sobering up and blames the healing factor for that.
* * *
Remus gazes up at the sky and even though it’s overcast and can feel the moon tugging at him. Allowing for the time of year and their position in Scotland he makes it not all that long after midnight. He wonders why they weren’t kicked out of the pub earlier.
“Not long after midnight,” he says, thinking that Professor Nebula would have been proud of him for knowing. But then he was always exceedingly good at Astronomy.
“Huh,” Logan grunts and Remus hears the top come off the bottle, “Merry Christmas I guess”
Remus turns as Logan raises the bottle then takes a long swig. He’s quite a remarkable man when Remus thinks about - practically immortal through a stroke of genetics. What Voldemort wouldn’t have given to study him, he thinks. But thanks to Harry that’s never going to happen and there’s something comforting about the thought. Remus doesn’t like the idea of Logan being subjecting to more tests.
He takes the bottle when Logan hands it to him and takes a swig. The taste of the Muggle whiskey is sharp on his tongue and not at all like the Firewhiskey he and Tonks keep a bottle of for special occasions. He begins to return the salutation when something else tugs at his mind.
“Never was particularly fond of Christmas,” he says, his tongue fumbling along ‘particularly’ with little grace, “So how ‘bout - to lost friends?”
Logan looks at him for a long moment then nods. Remus knows that Logan’s lost more in his lifetime then Remus ever will and the fact that he still gets up every day and saves the world settles a little warmth in Remus’ heart.
“To lost friends,” Remus says again, raising the bottle in a salute before taking another long swig. He hands it toe Logan who echoes the statement and takes a swig of his own.
Remus stares out across the whitened landscape and is surprised to feel himself smiling. He thinks that maybe he’ll apparate to the Burrow in the morning and surprise Tonks. It’d be good to see everyone again, especially Harry who always seems so pleased to see him. He knows that that’s because Harry associates him with his father and Godather - but on reflection Remus understands that that is also exactly reason he likes seeing Harry.
There’s a soft crunching sound that Remus finds vaguely familiar but before he can figure out what it is he is hit in the ear by a hard and very cold ball of snow.
He turns to find Logan grinning at him with a second snowball in his hand.
“I think you’re going to regret that,” Remus says, fingering his wand and wondering if he could get away with spelling some snowballs without the Ministry getting wind of it.
“Tonight I ain’t got any regrets,” Logan says as he throws the second snowball. Remus dodges and as he’s furiously scrabbling at the snow to make his own ball he’s surprised to find that he, too, no longer has any regrets.
Fin
Character Gloss. (for those that don't know the Marvel U): Piotr = Colosuss (recently returned from the dead), Kurt = Nightcrawler, Kitty = Shadowcat, Jeannie = Jean Grey/Phoenix (deceased), Jean-Paul = Northstar, Bobby = Iceman, Moira = Moira McTaggart (Xavier's, uh, lady friend, deceased), Rahne = Wolfsbane, Pete = Spider-Man, Strange = Doctor Strange, Yuriko = Lady Deathstrike (and Logan's fiancee at one point, deceased)