Summary: He always wondered how death would greet him. Never in a million years did he think he'd be greeted like this―by protecting a child he barely knew. Never did he think that in his last moments, he would hear these words. Yet, she said them, giving him the one thing he'd been yearning for since the beginning. She gave him...peace. "Daddy, please, don't go.

Disclaimer: I do not own Logan, X-Men, or any of the Marvel characters affiliated with this movie.

Spoilers for Logan, don't read any further if you haven't seen the movie and don't want to have it ruined for you.

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel,
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real.
The needle tears a hole,
The old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away,
But I remember everything.

Hurt, Johnny Cash

He roars.

Pain.

It hurts.

He can barely breathe.

"NO!"

He nearly blacks out but a sudden, "bang!" and blood that splatters all over him keep him awake.

At least, for now.

"No, no, no, no," he hears a small whimper. "No, no, no!" There is a sheathing sort of sound and before he knows it, even more pain explodes from his back, forcing a painful growl from his throat. "P-Please, you'll be okay!" However, compared to before, there is less...pressure and surprisingly, less pain, allowing him to slump back as comfortably as he can against the tree that is killing him.

Groggily, he opens his eyes and sees a face that is becoming very familiar to him. "Laura," he calls out, his hand reaching out to the little girl. "You're safe."

"No, no, no, no, please," she begs, her bottom lip quivering. When he sees tears pooling in her eyes, he knows that they do not belong there, that they do not fit her. He never wants to see her like this again.

"Don't-" He suddenly coughs, pain once again exploding throughout his chest. He cannot control himself and before he knows his, blood is trailing down his mouth, bloodying his face even more. "Don't be sad...it's time."

"P-Please, no, you can't." She brings his hand to the side of her face and cradles it, her face contorted with grief. He tries to place his palm against her cheek and fails. Instead, he gives her a sad smile.

"Laura, you need to go. They'll-" he coughs and even more blood to comes out- "they'll be back. You need...to be safe."

He is beginning to lose feeling in his legs and he knows it will not be long before his arms and hands follow, until it ends with his death.

"Take your friends and run…" He looks at the young children standing near them. "They'll keep coming, and coming...you don't have to fight anymore."

"B-But," she tries to talk but a small sob leaves her mouth. "I can't..." She grips his scar-torn hands as if it will keep him here.

"Go." Using as much strength as he could, he grips her hand. "Don't be...what they made you," he says, hoping that the look he gives her conveys what he truly feels.

Images of his life flash before his eyes. All the lives he has taken, all the selfish things he's done. When people are around him, they die. No matter how hard he tries to protect them, they all die, in the end. They always die.

So this time, he will not make that same mistake. This time, he will protect what he loves the most in the world because this is the last thing he can do.

She continues to cry but a few seconds later, in a voice so faint that he nearly misses it, she says to him, "Daddy, please, don't go."

His entire body freezes as his eyes widen in shock. His mouth is open and he has to tell himself to breathe, that what he heard was not a figment of his already fucked up mind. With a shaky breath, he forces his head to turn and looks at this girl, the girl he willingly gave his life to protect. She is a mess; her hair is clumped up and blood covers her small frame. She is stubborn, ruthless, cold, but she is here...because of him.

Warmth blooms across his chest, so different from the pain he had been feeling for the past few minutes. It is a feeling he has never felt and thought that he would never feel. This feeling, he thinks, belongs to someone that is not him. He does not deserve it, not after what he has caused.

Yet...here she is, calling for him. His flesh and blood; his daughter.

He turns to look at the sky, the sun shining and the clouds soaring throughout the blue. As he lays here, gasping for air, he thinks that he is...proud of her.

"Laura," his voice breaks as he says her name.

He allows himself to cry in these last moments. He thinks he fucking deserves at least this. Tears are falling from his eyes as the warmth spreads all across his body, relieving him of his pain. There is no more of this shit, not in his body and not in his heart. Is this what it means to finally be able to forgive himself of all his sins? To be able to finally let go?

"...Daddy," she calls him one last time as if she knew, that with this word, a word that has managed to do something nobody has ever done before, he would finally be able to close his eyes without worry. She bows her head as she sobs louder.

"So...this is what it feels like," he whispers with a smile. From the corner of his eye, he sees Laura―he sees his daughter trembling as she cries. But she lifts her face anyways, allowing him to look into her familiar eyes. He notices the resignation in her eyes as she realizes that this...this is it.

She will be safe. He knows that she will be - she has her family and her friends. They will protect her, just as she protects them. She will not be alone.

There is a hand on his cheek and he knows it's her.

Logan looks up, still smiling. Birds are chirping and the trees move along with the wind that passes through them. There is only bliss and quietness as the little girl next to him gives him the one thing he never thought he would get.

Peace...at last.

"A man has to be what he is, Joey. Can't break the mold. There's no living with the killing. There's no going back. Right or wrong, it's a brand. A brand that sticks. Now you run on home to your mother... you tell her everything's alright. There are no more guns in the valley."

Shane, 1953