#mmwrites

Your hand almost couldn’t keep up with what you were seeing but his yellow shirt was a stark contrast amongst a sea of skin and sweat, so the guy you were drawing wasn’t hard to lose. It’s not like you knew him or anything either so he could find it weird and creepy that a complete stranger was sketching him. But you came to the beach for some inspiration and there he was.

Divine Inspiration.

Just as you were sketching (his) hands holding a football, there were chants in the distance. “Bob! Bob! Bob” and much to your surprise, the handsome guy you’d been sketching all afternoon was being hoisted onto another man's shoulders and his smile was so wide, it just inspired yet another glimpse in your sketchbook.

After a while it seemed like the crew was winding down and that was the cue to pack up your supplies and head home. You were nearly all packed up when someone cleared their throat just above you.

“Excuse me miss.” It was yellow shirt guy and goodness his smile up close almost had you unpacking all your supplies again. “I couldn’t help but notice you were here alone for a while but my friends and I are going to go for drinks and they said I’d be a fool if I didn’t come over and ask you to join… I know this is very forward-”

You couldn’t wait to cut him off. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled and inhaled.  “You were actually my muse today so maybe this was fate.”

His head cocked to one side. “Muse?”

“I draw,” you motioned toward some straggler supplies, “and you caught my eye today. I hope you don’t mind. I’m sure that sounded weird.”

“Me!?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Can I see?” He asked softly.

You nodded and reached for the notebook on your bag and then flipped it to the recent page; handing it over to him.

The sun may have been setting but the redness in his neck and cheeks were pretty noticeable, which made you second guess telling him. That is, until he smiled back at you.

“You made me look really cool and attractive.”

“Maybe because I draw what I see.” You replied with a smile and a shrug.

Your muse was about to speak again but another man interjected rather loudly and placed an arm around his shoulders.

“Well well well Bob! Look at that! All that skin and you were a chosen muse! Please tell me the artist will be joining us at the bar?” The man smiled brightly in your direction.

At Eight, it Happens.

 The house had been decorated for a celebration. Even when he’s sick, which is often, his parents always try to entertain him, even if he’s stuck in a wheelchair so he doesn’t have to walk. He’s sick with the flu for the third time that year. He’s just standing up from bed to the chair when he hears-

BANG

And then a scream.

The fever makes the world melt around him as he breathes, but he stumbles out of his room towards the sound. He sees the groundskeeper on top of his father, and that’s it. 

He killed two people that day, not one. His father, and his half-brother.

His babysitter, Rosie, whisks him away into the woods, names him Logan, but they’re both young, and the work is too heavy for a frail girl and her little brother. The worst happens to Rosie. She gets sick from all the stress and the snow, and by the spring, he’s with the wolves, learning how to live, forgetting his past by the day.

The government finds a little boy with blood still dripping down his mouth, deerskin as his only clothing. They send him to a home and he learns how to pretend to be a person, another animal pelt he slings over himself to appear less threatening.

Eleven finds him back in the woods, his most natural habitat. He sleeps in the trees, eats raw meat for the first time in years and feels alive. There is no need to pretend to be ghosts.

At thirteen, he begins to work with Wraith, Sabretooth, and is guided by a man called Maverick. (everyone knew Stryker was pulling the shots). They’re a team, and a good one. But something happens, and he starts to work alone.

Fourteen isn’t remembered. There is nothing special about the Wolverine.

Fifteen finds him isolated, in a little room in a little house. He’s on a mission he won’t remember, in a place that won’t matter. Somehow he gets a cupcake on his bed. He doesn’t know who it’s from, but he eats it anyway.

16 passes the same way. He is safe. He eats raw meat again. He gets another cupcake.

And 17 finds him running, running, running, running, no memory of anything except the pain and a blonde boy reaching out in fear and rage but everything seems wrong so he does what he does best and runs.

It's a reciprocal relationship, with Logan enjoying someone who can handle his Feralness and primal attitudes. With him, he can (almost) go all out and have fun play fighting, (and being scruffed doesn't sting as much if the guys almost two feet taller than you and built like a brick shithouse), and he can even bite him and know it won't get infected!

It also provides an opportunity for growth in Hank. When he says anything demeaning about the more...Beastly side of himself, it indirectly affects Logan. He doesn't see how Logan's face falls whenever he does, when the Doctor equates acting animalistic to being Less Than or Worse Than humans and mutants. The boy never says anything, but Hank catches on after Wolverine stops behaving so wildly around him.

(Once, after saying something so demeaning about his animalistic tendencies that Logan takes off for weeks, he buys himself parenting books. They help.)

Here’s the thing about being a Feral child soldier:

Sometimes people don’t get it. They all look at him and pity him. He sees it in their eyes, smells it, sweating like they’re still teenagers, all waiting to see how the loner kid is gonna react.

Logan went to high school for a total of one week before the Weapon X scientists decided he was too wild to pretend and swapped him out for Victor

The thing is… he enjoyed it. Not all of it, obviously, thank fuck they got that collar off of him, and the tests he could do without. But… he misses the energy. He misses the violence. Hunting humans isn’t that different from hunting a moose. They can both kill you, but at the end of the day, they’re both easily trackable when they don’t know they're being hunted. And they always get tired first.

…

He’s killed a lot of people.

He’s felt their flesh give under his hands, tender stomachs give under the sharpness of his claws. He’s felt their sticky brain matter and fluids on his fingertips as he’s bashed their heads into walls. Moments, ragdolls, animals. That’s all they feel like in the moment. Prey he caught and slaughtered, as all prey is.

He knows the feeling of human blood, viscera in his mouth, the iron tang familiar on his tongue as he and Victor clear out rooms, entire bases of foreign militaries. When time stops moving, no sound besides the rhythmic dripping of blood from the body stuck in the ceiling. Nothing besides their panting, as they wait for the rest of their team.

He doesn’t realize how strange it is to feel that way until he hears the doctors. And then his Boss. And then the X-men. They all point it out as something wrong. And sure, he knows he has things to make up for, but really, This is what they get hung up on?

It’s like none of them have read his rap sheet.

(None of them have, except Xavier. They wanted to give him time to tell them. He will not know this until it is too late.)

He only really regrets two people he’s ever killed. Two children, belonging to an american politician.

(It’s what started the brainwashing, what motivated them to isolate him. If he didn’t remember, he wouldn’t worry about it. He didn’t need to doubt them. He didn’t need to think. All he had to do was fight for them.)

But now, with his feelings and his mind unlocked now he can’t help but feel sick when he thinks of them. Their little chubby faces, unblemished by time. Their thin, baby hair just growing out, the older ones quiet snores. They had slept together that night. It reminded him of his friends.

So he gets it a little, the way they look at him. The way Xaviers face goes gray whenever he tries to read Logan's mind. Pity and shame and disgust.

He gets it more when he has to hold Kurt after his first kill.

Rhett didn’t go out much anymore.

He had his obligations to the ranch, his family and his riding… that was really it. Long gone were the days of drinking at the bar or getting up to anything because when you disappeared, his heart and soul went wherever you went. He’d even been considered a suspect in your disappearance which hurt but he understood. He promised to do whatever it took to get you back. Unfortunately though, after some time you were presumed dead and there was even a small funeral with an empty grave. That was the first time he let anyone see him cry… no. Sob.

He had this unspoken bond with Perry, now that he understood the heartache that came with such a loss. Even though neither of them would actually talk to each other about it, the mornings and time spent around each other on the ranch were less tense.

It’s been a year since you disappeared and your simple gravestone still looked new since Rhett made sure to come by and clean it once a week. It was his chance to talk to you.

He took off his hat as he approached your site and took a deep breath. His eyes bloodshot from crying in his truck. “I really miss you darlin’” Rhett said quietly.

He bent down and traced your name with his fingers. “I planned on making you mine forever ya know?” He said to nothing. “I wasn’t sure what love really felt like until I met you.”

 He tried to say more but the longer he sat perched over your stone, breathing felt like an impossible challenge and Perry did tell him that if breathing ever got hard, to just walk away.

So he did.

That’s why he’s here now, trying to find where the rehabilitation and mental health services are.

When he came home from Colombia with the guys and Tom’s body, his wife left. He asked about the baby but she said that was just a lie.

He broke.

There was never a baby.

Marisol confessed to lying about a pregnancy in hopes of getting him to stay with her and not go with the rest of the guys on Santi’s ego mission but he was still the idiot that went anyway.

She hoped a baby would save their already rocky marriage but not even a pretend baby could keep him around.

The reality that he wouldn’t actually be a dad hurt the worst.The marriage was pretty much finished anyway but he had hope of something new and it was all a lie.

That’s what tore his soul apart.

After a few months of sulking, Will offered him a pamphlet with some specific services along with numbers to call and an address to go to if calling wasn’t prefered. Frankie opted to go in person since he had nothing else to do currently and getting out of the house was much needed.

However, now that he’s lost, he wishes he did just call instead.

“Need some help?”

Frankie spins around to see who the disembodied voice belongs to.

“Oh uh, I-I sorry.” He mutters, now embarassed when he notices the voice belongs to someone very attractive.

“I couldn’t help but notice you wandering for a bit.” Your voice was delicate and kind. “I be happy to help if you need it.”

He was mesmerized in an instant, admiring how your eyes held a sincerity in them. A beauty that he swore he’d been familiar with before but apparently that was not the case. This felt brand new.

“Well this is embarrasing,” he admitted,”You can probably tell I’ve never been here before. I don’t know where to go.”

You smile and god it’s beautiful.

“I’m happy to help you then…um”

“Oh uh Frankie!”

“Frankie.” You say it like you don’t want to forget it. “Do you know where you want to go?”

Suddenly the butterflies that were forming disappeared and the embarrassment crept back in. Now he’d have to tell you, the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen, that he needs rehab and mental help.

You must have picked up on his sudden change in body language because you quickly redact your question and introduce yourself instead. Played it off as forgetfulness. Which unbeknownst to him, was true in a sense.

“How about a tour instead?” You offer. “That way, I show you where everything is and when we pass what you were looking for, I don’t have to know and you can go back when you’re ready. I mean, if you aren’t in a rush or anything.”

A shyness overcame you and Frankie found that pretty cute.

“I have all the time.”

-

Frankie walked with you for what seemed like hours.

He found out that you’re just a volunteer, ‘from a military family’ you mentioned. You had taken an interest in being a small help to other veterans since you used to come here a lot with your own father when you were a late teen.

During the tour, you pointed out different departments and occasionally stopped to talk about the statues and display cases. Asking him questions when he made comments about anything he knew or recognized. All to which you seemed genuinely interested in.

Marisol never showed any interest in his past.

“So you were a pilot?” You interrupt the thought.

“Uh yeah,” the two of you stood in front of an aircraft display, “and I still was…Until recently.”

He can tell you want to know more but you don’t bother the itch to ask, which only makes him want to tell you more.

“Helicopters.”

He’s staring at the display but he can feel you looking at him. By now it’s probably apparent what he’s here for but you still haven’t bothered to ask or even pressure him in the slightest.

“I was a helicopter pilot…”

“Frankie. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want-”

“I do want to.” He turns to you and meets your eyes.

There’s a look in your eyes that he’s never seen in a woman before.

Not even Marisol.

Fuck. He’s gotta stop comparing.

“Shit. I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear my sob story.” He starts to ramble but your hand gently touches his arm which makes him stop.

“Can I be honest here Frankie?”

He nods.

“I was looking for an excuse to talk to you,” your eyes shifted to your shoes, “Then I noticed you were lost so I took my chance. I’m sorry.”

That took him by surprise.

“Wait. Why are you sorry?”

“Because…um… because as soon as we passed rehab and mental health services. I knew why you were here.”

Shit.

There was an awkward silence as the two of you weren’t sure where to look but you not running off seemed like a good sign.

“Can I be honest now?” It was his turn to ask.

“Please.”  Your eyes shot back up to look at him.

“You nailed it on what I was looking for but when you offered to help I was sort of taken back with how uh cute you are.”

That made you smile again.

“And I know it’s a long shot, and by no means am I going to avoid the help I need, but would you like to grab a coffee or tea later this week? A-as a new friend of course.”

Frankie watches your eyes go wide and he feels like maybe what he said was a mistake.

“A friend date. I like that!”

Frankie shifts in his boots. “I know rehab will be against any dating but a friend would be nice.”

“Dating!?” You joke but he doesn’t catch it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I thought-”

“I’m joking Frankie.” You calm him before laughing into the empty hallway. “There’s clearly a mutual attraction here but you are right about the program.” you pause. “And I know we just met today but it says a lot that you take that very seriously despite,” you gesture between the two of you,”whatever this could be.”

He nods, since that’s all he can manage to do.

He likes listening to you.

“I guess now that’s all out in the open… I’m free Friday?”

“Friday is perfect.” He says confidently.

It was the first time he’s felt confident in a really long time.

-

Friday came quicker than expected and Frankie still couldn’t believe his absolute luck meeting you. You’d been so genuine and open, he didn’t even feel embarrassed about walking to the rehab office after you two set a date and time to meet up again.

The circumstances you met under were maybe not the best but even you had admitted to feeling the same pull toward him that he felt to you.

Now here he was, in a local cafe anxiously waiting for you to walk through the doors.

Ding, ding. The sound of the cafe door opening made his head tilt up to see if it was you.

It was.

There you were, the sun shining behind you with a ring that haloed you like an angel. When you noticed him, you nearly skipped to his table.

“Frankie! Hey!”

“My favorite tour guide!” It just slipped out and you both seemed equally impressed and taken by it.

“I'm your favorite?” You asked through a smirk while you set your things down.

“You are, yes.”

Even Frankie couldn't believe what he was saying. He had never been this bold with Marisol and here he was very openly flirting with you even though the two of you had made an agreement that this would not go past a friendship. At least not anytime soon.

“This is going to be a hard year of just friendship isn’t it?”

His eyebrows raised.

“Don’t play coy Frankie,” you giggled, “you dig me. I dig you. We’re adults.”

Frankie leaned back in his chair to laugh. “Okay fine. This will be a challenge but I’m determined to follow the rules of a year soooo how about we split a tab?”

A sarcastic gasp leaves your lips and the two of you share more laughter.

This is the happiest he’s been in a while and for it to be with someone so new… he really didn’t want to jeopardize it. No matter how much he may want to know you beyond that.

“So tell me pilot. What’s good here?”

Oh man

This really was going to be a challenge.

-

The friend date went well. So well that the two of you made a habit of getting to know each other on more ‘friend dates’. Coffee and tea turned into walks in the parks. Walks in the park turned into museum days.

The first month was the hardest. Frankie got to know you more and when you told him about your late father, he understood why you cared so much to take on the volunteer gig.

‘He couldn’t do it anymore. No one ever encouraged him to get help.’

He remembers what you said. It broke his heart and he so desperately wanted to do more than just hug you that day.

Just like it broke your heart when he told you about his ex wife and the fake pregnancy. You held him like no partner or friend ever had when he started to cry. Neither of you cared that you were in public. In that moment, it was just you two.

That was only six months in but he knew he felt something more than just a mere fondness toward you. He knew it since the day he met you.

On month eight, the guys were beginning to think you were made up and crashed one of your park dates.

‘Holy shit! Cat’s tour guide is REAL!’

Benny had yelled so loud that anyone in earshot turned their heads toward you all. You took it in stride though and nothing about your demeanor said embarrassed.

There was a brief moment of self doubt in Frankie's mind when you took to Will rather quickly but he later found out on a game night that it was your shared older sibling mentalities that bonded you two in a genuine platonic way.

Next week will be a year and he isn’t exactly sure how to go about it. Frankie went through his program without a romantic or sexual relationship and you stayed his friend and cheerleader.

Part of him did feel like he sort of cheated by being your friend since the feelings he had for you went beyond friendly. However on a technical scale, the boundary never got crossed and even that was okayed by his sponsor and therapist.

Would he finally get to kiss you? Or would your feelings have changed?

Nothing about your attitude significantly changed but he still couldn’t read your mind.

What if along the way, you enjoyed what you two had become and decided not to explore previous feelings…The last time you had openly expressed interest was on the first ‘friend date’ but never again after a deal was made mutual.

The unknown terrified him.

-

“Isn’t today the big day?”

Will was over at Frankie’s. He said he needed to pick up his tool bag but the reality of it was he knew Frankie needed moral support just in case you didn’t reciprocate romantic feelings and the tool bag excuse was good enough.

“Yeah, I just haven't-”

Knock, knock. The sound surprised both men and Frankie froze while Will continued to sip at his coffee.

“So are you going to get that?” Will smirked over his mug.

Frankie wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when he opened the door but when he did you were quite the sight.

“Happy Friendiversary!” In your hands were balloons and a small wrapped box. “Oh, hey Will!”

To this he turned to see Will grinning like an idiot at the end of the entryway. It didn’t even occur to him that he hadn’t said hello until you tapped his foot with one of your own.

“Earth to Frankie. Gonna let me in?”

“Right! Sorry. The giant number one balloon kind of surprised me.”

“Duh, that’s kind of the point of a surprise, now here take this” you said, handing over the box and walking into his house looking for a place to set down the balloons.

You were pretty well acquainted with the space even though you had only visited a handful of times throughout the year. Figured it was less of a temptation if you two only met up in the house with other people or out in public if the two of you were alone.

“I didn’t know we were doing gifts. I would have gotten you something.”

Tilting your head. “No need. We didn’t plan anything special and I kind of thought this up last night anyway. All very last minute.”

Frankie had almost forgotten that Will was still there but when he cleared his throat and set his mug down, he was prepared to announce his departure.

“I’m gonna be heading out then. You guys enjoy your day!”

He didn’t even give Frankie a chance to walk him out, he just grabbed his tool bag and practically bolted out the door. Finally leaving the two of you alone in his house.

Alone.

“So did you plan a speech like I tried to or or am I just a little nuts?” You blurt out.

Frankie couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I tried but nothing felt right.” His eyes fell to the gift that he was still holding.

“I think this will be easier if you just open that by the way.”

You’ve planted yourself in a dining chair, looking up at him. Seemingly just as nervous or anxious as he was.

Frankie didn’t want to ruin your pretty wrapping but you rolled your eyes when you caught him trying to be delicate so he opted for the tear method. Under the wrapping was a gift box and in the gift box, under tissue paper was a gently used journal.

He heard you take a deep sigh.

“I’ve had that journal forever but I didn’t start writing in it until the day we met. The last entry is today's date.” You paused. “Every day, this past year I wrote about our days or what we talked about… and how I felt.”

Frankie is ridden speechless but still waits for your nod to open the journal. On the first page he sees the date, some doodles and then what you said about that first day…

Dear Diary…

Journal?

Dear journal,

I met this guy at the VA today! His name is Frankie Morales and he is just about the cutest person I have ever met. I noticed him walking around for a while and since I have absolutely no self control when it comes to attractive men, I offered my help and he said YES!

He told me that he’s a veteran (Dad would be proud.) and that he was a former pilot… Man, he looked so sad when he told me that he wasn’t a pilot anymore but I sensed he hadn’t really talked to anyone about it so I listened. BUT NOT TILL AFTER MY DUMBASS MADE A MOVE. Did I mention why he was even there? I didn’t. Okay he was lost trying to look for mental health and rehab services and so naturally my thirsty self offered to give him a tour of the building. Not my best look but I guess it sort of worked…… We have a scheduled meet up for coffee on Friday!

God, I really hope I don’t mess this up. He seemed so nice and genuine but I know he still needs help, so maybe a friendship could be encouraging. Maybe I could be the friend to Frankie that dad never had… jeez way to be a downer. Ugh how do I sign off on this?

Until next time journal

Frankie was processing your words and what a privilege it was that you were basically letting him in your head. He hadn’t even noticed that he was going to cry until a wet drop hit the paper.

“You don’t have to read it all right now but maybe take a look at the last page?”

So he did.

The date and time read today and this morning.

Holy shit journal!

It’s been a whole year. The longest year of my life. I’m so nervous to do this but I also have never felt more ready. Here goes…

Francisco Morales. I’m giving you this journal on our one year anniversary of knowing each other because I want you to know how much of an impact you have made in my life. I want you to know about the ways you made me feel seen when I never said it out loud . I want you to know about the exact day I… fell in love with you. Yes. you read that correctly. I know you’re going to look back at me with those gorgeous brown eyes when you read it.

I’m in love with you Frankie.

You’ve given me goosebumps since the day we met and I was so scared I'd screw you up along the way… Which btw, I’m sorry if at any point I made it seem like I’d friendzone you but that was me overthinking. Sorry!

Back to my confession… I guess all that’s left to say is… I hope the feeling is mutual. I have a good feeling, it still is.

I’m so proud of you Frankie and I can’t wait to say these words to you out loud finally.

“I knew you were going to look at me when you got to that part.”

Frankie didn’t want to waste any more time. He was in love with you too and he not only needed you to know it, he needed you to feel it. There was an energy forming in him and all the pent up love he had been suppressing was finally coming to light.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“I need to kiss you.”

“Of course you can, but Frank-”

His lips are on your in an instant, cutting you off completely. Frankie holds your face in his palms so delicately, he can feel you relax into his touch. Your lips mold perfectly to his. The kiss is quick but it’s enough.

You are enough.

He pulls away slightly to put his forehead to yours and his lips ghost over yours, breathing you in. No part of him wants to stop but he needs to finally say it too.

“I love you so much. God I love you so fucking much.”

Neither of you cares to open your eyes. It’s been a year leading to this moment you both clearly hoped for and here it was finally happening.

Frankie leans in to taste you again but you speak.

“I love you too.”

Finally.

When he opens his eyes he meets yours and in an instant he knows this is it.

A year ago Frankie never imagined he’d meet his best friend and a year ago he never believed that his best friend would become the love of his life. A year of being clean. A year of friendship and year getting a second chance.

You were his second chance and now he had you in his arms with no plans of letting go any time soon.

Frankie was no longer lost. He found you.

--