Chapter Text
Everything is hot.
Logan’s drenched with mattress with sweat. It’s so hot. His veins feel like they’re boiling his blood, his bones are burning him alive.
Usually his adamantium skeleton leaves him uncomfortable. Joints rubbing cartilage away, grinding together. Only for the cartilage to regrow, and start the cycle all over.
Many days he spends living with some kind of ache. Or a migraine pulsing in his skull making words difficult.
That he can deal with. This? This hell his body wreaks on him whenever it so chooses? When the adamantium poisoning works harder than his healing factor? It makes him wish for death.
He can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can’t think beyond the words ‘hot’ and ‘hurts’.
It only ever lasts a day or two, but it’s agony the entire time.
However it’s times like these that he wishes he didn’t take Wade’s offer, and instead when to live out in the woods somewhere.
“The mortifying ordeal of being known” as Ororo would say. Stroking his greasy hair all the while.
He misses her so badly.
His heart clenches at the thought of his past lover. She never did let him feel shame over something like this. He only hopes Wade will offer the same kindness.
(Truly he knows Wade would never judge him or cast him aside, but old insecurities rise when he’s down like this).
Logan fades in and out of lucidity for a while, writhing and whimpering in his and Wade’s shared bed.
He comes to when he hears Wade’s keys jingle at the door. All those fucking keychains make the actual keys nearly impossible to use.
“Yoohoo! Logie Bear I’m home! Where’s my welcome back kiss and stiff drink? What’s the point of having a housewife if she doesn’t even do that, smh my head…”
Logan can’t even muster the strength or ability to call out a greeting, but he feels his muscles unwind at the sound and smell of his partner.
Wade makes his way to their bedroom, dropping items along the way, before swinging the door open.
“Wakey wakey, old man. Sugar baby is back. Or actually I guess I’m the sugar daddy in this relationship, since you don’t really work…”
And he knows, he knows, Wade’s just joking. Hell it’s regular banter that he usually doesn’t mind and drops his own scathing remarks.
But he’s weak and vulnerable right now. The comment stings.
“S-sorry,” he manages with a scratchy rasp.
-
Wade’s heart pounds at the shaky response. He’d been focused on pulling his Deadpool suit off, not really paying attention to what he was actually saying, or what he walked into.
His stomach twists at the sad croak of an apology Logan gives him. His head whips up from where he’d been toeing his boots off.
Wade’s eyes fly wide open.
Logan is drenched in sweat, panting like he just ran a mile. His entire body has a vague tremble to it. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, skin pallid and wan.
He looks like he’s dying.
Don’t. Do NOT say that. Logan can’t die.
A tiny whimper seeps out from Logan’s chapped lips, breaking Wade’s heart.
He quickly shoves the rest of his suit and boots off, haphazardly tossing them in the corner.
“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, you’re okay baby. Just a joke, don’t worry.” He gently cradles Logan’s face in his hands.
Fuck his skin is boiling hot.
“Logan, can you tell me what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Fuck.
It takes several tries, but finally Logan manages to groan out “Hot. Hurts.”
“I know baby, you’re burning up. We’ll get you cooled down in just a sec. You need to tell me what’s going on.”
Someone hurt Logan. Someone hurt his fucking Wolverine, and Wade is going to kill them. He hasn’t felt this angry since Francis fucked him over.
Logan whines, body writhing in obvious agony. “Ad-adamanti-“ he cuts himself off with a sob. A tear rolls down his cheek.
“Adamantium? Is it your body bothering you again?”
Logan nods desperately.
“I… but Logan I’ve seen what that looks like and this…” you look like you’re dying, he almost says.
“It gets- ah- worse some-sometimes,” he grits out.
Wade lets himself feel relief for just a second. Nobody hurt Logan.
Well they did, but that was decades ago when they put the adamantium inside him.
He lets himself feel relief that Logan isn’t dying, not right now anyways. Then, he gets to work.
“Okay pookie. So you’re hurting worse than normal. Sounds like you need old nurse Wilson.”
There’s a flicker of vague amusement in Logan’s foggy eyes.
“Let’s start by cooling you down a bit, yeah? I’ll start an ice bath. Just lay here and look pretty.”
With a quick kiss to Logan’s forehead, Wade dashes off to their bathroom.
Thank fuck they got their own apartment cause if he had to fight Al for the bathroom again…
Plus her shower is a stall, and Logan needs a bath right now.
Cold water flows through the tap as Wade plugs the drain. He grabs a bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer.
While the tub fills, he grabs towels, and Logan’s favorite boxers and tshirt, both faded and exceptionally soft.
The tub is filled, and Wade pours half the ice in. Testing the water with his hand, he flinches. Cold enough to freeze his balls off.
“Now for the fun part.”
Back in the bedroom, Logan’s twisted onto his side, arm hanging off the mattress.
“Okay peanut. Bath is ready, let’s get you up and- oh shit-“
Logan coughs up a string of bile that streaks across the side of the bed and onto the floor.
“Fuck. Okay, that’s okay, don’t worry sweetheart.”
Logan whines, and it nearly brings tears to Wade’s eyes. He sounds so sad.
He pets Logan’s sweaty hair back. “Hey, it’s okay. I promise.”
“‘M sorrry,” Logan slurs, eyes barely open.
“Sh shh. You’re sick baby, it’s okay. Easy clean up. Let’s get you in the bath, alright?”
It’s a struggle, cause fuck Logan is heavy, but Wade manages to get Logan vertical and moving. Their pace is slow and halting, Logan flinching with every step, but they make it to the bathroom.
Wade leans Logan against the counter, to quickly strip his tank top and boxers. They’re soaked like Logan sat in the bath with them.
“Okay, easy does it,” Wade mumbles as he helps Logan into the water.
Slowly Logan sinks down, sighing in utter relief at the cool temperature. Wade swears he can see steam coming off Logan’s skin.
“Lay back now. Let me take care of you.”
It’s a true sign of how Logan is feeling because he hasn’t argued once.
Taking the ice bowl, now semi melted, Wade dips a wash cloth inside, saturating it with icy water.
He then takes the cloth and wrings it out over Logan’s forehead and hair.
Logan sighs, eyes slipping shut, further relaxing into the water.
Wade finds a rhythm. Dip, wring, soothe, repeat.
He’s not sure how long they stay in the bathroom, but the ice has melted, his bowl of water is empty, and Logan’s bath has warmed to room temperature.
Wade gently taps Logan’s arm to wake him. “Do you want me to wash you, or do you just want to lay down again?”
Logan squints his eyes open, much clearer than before. “Mm, lay down.”
“Yessir. That does mean you gotta get up, though.”
Logan grumbles, but lets Wade pull him to his feet and out of the tub. He wraps Logan in his fluffiest of towels, not at all giggling about Logan’s wet kitten look.
Soon enough Logan is dressed and Wade throws his arm over his shoulder to head back to their bedroom.
But at the threshold, Logan whines.
“What’s wrong peanut?”
Though not as pale and shaky, Logan is clearly still in pain. He mumbles “Smells like puke.”
Wade nods “Oh yeah, you did definitely do that earlier. Couch?”
Logan grunts his affirmative grunt, and they pivot as a unit back towards the living room.
Logan lets himself fall into the couch with another grunt.
“That sounded like your relieved grunt. Feeling better?”
“For now.”
“… So it’s not over?”
Logan cracks an eye open. “Not for another day, bub.”
Wade nods sagely. “Okay then. Since you’re feeling better right now, I’m gonna go to the store and get some supplies. I’ll be back in a few.”
Logan blinks at him from the couch.
“Let me get you some water before I go… and probably a puke bucket just in case,” Wade rambles to himself as he grabs the necessary items, along with his keys, and crocs. Not in that order.
“Alright, be back soon!” Wade swings open the door.
“Wait!”
Wade looks back, ready to drop everything and just lay on the couch with Logan.
Logan, half sitting up, makes very strong eye contact with Wade’s keychains. “Thank you, Wade.” He says softly.
Wades stomach jumps with butterflies on cocaine. With two long strides he crosses the room, back to the couch.
Grabbing Logan’s jaw, he tilts his face up for a kiss.
Logan looks starry eyes by the time they part.
“Of course Logan. You’d do the same for me.” He would, and he has.
Logan just nods.
Wade heads out to the store, making sure to grab his favorite chicken noodle soup.