Claws and Contradictions

Logan wasn't a morning person. This wasn't news to anyone who'd spent five minutes within clawing distance. He'd wake up with a scowl so sharp it could cut through steel, shamble to the kitchen, and pour himself a cup of coffee so strong it could double as jet fuel. Today was no different. Except, of course, that trouble had decided to knock on the mansion's door before he could even take a sip."Logan!" Scott's voice boomed from the hallway. "We've got a situation."Logan groaned, dragging a hand down his stubbled face. "Scott, if this is about the dishwasher again, I swear-""It's not the dishwasher!" Scott snapped, stepping into the kitchen. His perfectly pressed uniform and laser-focused glare were the polar opposites of Logan's bedhead and boxers. "There's an unidentified mutant causing a scene downtown. We need to move. Now."Logan squinted at Scott, then at his coffee. "You tell the kid to wait five minutes?""This isn't a request," Scott said, his jaw tightening. "The Blackbird's ready. Suit up."With a dramatic sigh, Logan pushed his mug aside. "Fine. But if I get cranky, it's your funeral, One-Eye."---By the time they reached the scene, chaos was in full swing. Cars overturned, streetlights sparking, and a young mutant-barely older than Jubilee-was flailing wildly in the middle of it all. Electricity crackled from her fingertips, arcing toward anything and everything in her vicinity."Great," Logan muttered, cracking his neck. "Another teenager with too much power and not enough sense."Storm shot him a warning glance. "Let's try talking to her first."Logan snorted. "Talking's your department, Ororo. I'm here for plan B.""Logan," Cyclops began, his tone exasperated, "we're a team. Let's act like it.""Yeah, yeah," Logan grumbled, stepping off the Blackbird. "Teamwork. Got it."---"Hey, kid!" Logan barked as he strode toward the girl. The sparks around her intensified, and she turned toward him with wide, tear-filled eyes."Stay back!" she yelled, her voice trembling. "I can't control it!""Relax," Logan said, holding up his hands. "You think I've never seen an out-of-control mutant before? You're in good company, kid."She stared at him, her electricity faltering for a moment. Then, as if on cue, a group of police officers rounded the corner, their weapons drawn. The girl panicked, and a bolt of lightning shot from her hand, striking a nearby streetlamp.Logan didn't wait. In a blur, he lunged forward, his claws slicing through the air. He landed between the girl and the officers, his adamantium skeleton ringing like a tuning fork as the next bolt struck him square in the chest."Kid," he growled, smoke curling from his singed tank top, "you've got one chance to calm down before I start growling for real."Her hands trembled, the electricity fading. "I didn't mean to...""I know," Logan said, his tone softer now. "But you gotta breathe, alright? Just breathe."---After a tense few minutes (and a very unhappy Cyclops waving off the cops), they managed to get the girl onto the Blackbird. Logan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed as Jubilee handed the kid a soda."You handled that better than I expected," Storm said, sitting across from him. "No yelling. No clawing.""Don't get used to it," Logan grumbled. "One soft moment, and everyone thinks you're a damn teddy bear."Storm chuckled. "And here I thought you didn't care what people thought.""Don't push it, Ororo."---Back at the mansion, Logan slumped into his recliner, a cold beer in hand. The kid-Maggie, as she'd introduced herself-was already being shown around by Jean. She'd be fine, he figured. She just needed time. As for him, he needed peace and quiet, something that seemed perpetually out of reach in this madhouse. But as much as he complained-and he complained a lot-Logan wouldn't trade it for anything. Because for all his grumpiness, his anger, and his incessant growling, Logan was exactly where he needed to be: protecting people who couldn't protect themselves. And maybe, just maybe, finding a little peace along the way.

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