I do not own the X-Men franchise, only my OC. Any lines used from the movie are not mine, I do not claim to own them.

So, basically, AU and OC with a side of Peter/OC

Not edited

(ps, can't find where I wrote it, but sh's 17, not 16)


"Logan… when you get there, find me. I'll be younger, less experienced, maybe even a little high, but… if you fuck up, I'll be able to give you at least one more chance to redo it. Remember, Raven isn't the only one you need to stop. Good luck."


Wendy blinked lazily as she watched the clouds over head roll over. Days like this when the sky was vibrantly blue and patches of clouds moulded easily, the sun shining strong even as a faintly cool breeze blew through the air were her favourite. Even more so when most people on the street were out somewhere else and she could freely smoke a joint without anyone yapping on her heels about what a delinquent she was. It made Wendy wonder how they could be so willing to waste their time nagging someone that didn't want their advice.

Time. Wendy smiled to herself faintly and took a drag of smoke, blowing it out gently in rings. Unlike most people – or all people actually – Wendy had all the time in the world. Literally.

However, on this day at this current moment, Wendy was quite happy to let time run normally – in fact she even enjoyed it, viewing the world at the same rate everyone else did.

At this point in time, Wendy thought her life would be relatively normal. As much as she had the time and ability to do anything, there wasn't much that she actually did want to do. She was pretty happy and pleased with lazing around, getting a little high, letting life run its natural course. Wendy hadn't really had a purpose, and to be fairly honest, she didn't mind that at all. It meant everything was normal.

Then, a major blip went off in her head and jolted her out of her high, and many hours later a rental car rolled into her driveway, carrying the time anomaly that she had previously sensed.

That was the end of her vision of normality.

Wendy listened carefully as the car door opened and heavy boots stepped out onto the pavement. They sounded balanced, his steps even and slow as he walked closer towards her. Workers boots. She wondered idly what a physical labour worker had to do with little ole her, a seventeen-year-old that was occasionally high and perceived as borderline delinquent.

He paused less than a yard away from her before plunking himself down onto the ground, lying parallel to her. Wendy wondered if she should be concerned.

Minutes passed in silence as Wendy patiently waited, pondering over what this man could possibly want to say, what he was even here for. What she heard she hadn't expected.

"We need your help."

His voice was deep and gruff, carrying a light smoker's rasp. Had there been a hint of an accent? Wendy picked up on these little details easily.

"…you need… my help." Wendy said slowly, dubiousness colouring her tone. "Why?"

"It's, uh, complicated."

She finally turned her head to him completely, brows furrowed over her sunglasses. "Uncomplicate it then."

He had this look on his face, she noticed, as if he was trying to figure out how he was going to say what he wanted to. In the end his face relaxed as he seemed to decide fuck it.

"I'm from - the future," he started all of a sudden, but Wendy didn't so much as blink. Yeah, she figured that part already. "fifty years in the future." He continued, still looking straight up at the sky with eyes that to Wendy, seemed old.

Connecting the dots had always been particularly easy for Wendy, and the ones that had been on their lonesome since she sensed the blip and car drove on to her street were now starting to form a picture. (she'd guilty admit to having slowed down time for a bit, watching out of the corner of her eye as the rental rounded the corner and came closer to her in slo-mo. Wendy had in fact more time to create all the dots of her puzzle than the actual three-four minutes that it would have been)

"Let me guess," Wendy said with a sigh. "I sent you back here?"

He paused, "Yeah."

"I see," she muttered, mind racing. She couldn't imagine what would happen in fifty years' time that her future self-felt the need to send some back. Wendy hated going back to fix and or redo something, mainly because she'd only just recently discovered she could send her own consciousness back, so of course there would be a limit to how far back she could go, and the resulting migraine that came wasn't entirely welcomed. The second reason why she didn't like it felt like she was cheating; taking someone else's free will and choice away from them.

After all, the whole point of going back was to fix what had been fucked up, right? Whether it was her fuck or someone else's fuck was up in the air.

Wendy sighed again, feeling tired. "Fifty years, huh? I guess you have… powers too, then, right?"

He simply lifted his hand, clenched it into a fist, and then three, creamy, pointy bones slowly grew out from between his knuckles.

Wendy stared. "That's fucking gross," she blurted. She looked up, looked back down and stared some more, then looked up to his face again. He was watching her with amusement. "Are we like, friends, or something in the future?"

He huffed a ruff chuckle, "I guess you could say that."

Her nose twitched. "Uh, well, you can justumm, put that away now. That'd be great thanks."

The bones slinked back down into his hands with this awful grinding meat sound.

"So, are you in?"

"What do you even want me to do?" she peered at him with hidden curiosity. "I'm non-combative, can't even swing like an axe or something without dislocating my shoulder."

He – Wendy really needed his name, she was getting tired of referring to him as he, the guy, or that man – sat up, pushing her to sit up as well. As he began to explain, she noticed he spoke with his hands, "Before I got here, your future self told me that you'd be able to help us if he messed up. One chance to fix what we missed."

"I figured that part out already," it didn't take a genius find out that that was the most possible case, considering that it was more than likely that the future was fucked up enough as it was that it warranted going back practically half a century to fix. Fifty years, for fucks sake, Wendy could barely believe it. "I mean, I want to know what's going on. Like, what exactly is it that you don't want to screw over?" she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

The guy looked like he swallowed a lemon for a second. Or swallowed his cigarette.

Clearing his throat, he rubbed his large hands and began story time. Wendy guessed he got the memo that she had all the time in the world to here this story. "It started ten years ago, in 1962…"

Wendy listened attentively with sharp ears, burning everything into her mind. From 192 and the Cuban Crises to fifty years later, where nothing but war and chaos ruled the earth, everyone either dead, hiding and running for their life.

He – Logan, he'd finally introduced himself – stopped when he finally led up to how he ended up sitting next to her. Golden eyes hidden by sunglasses flicked to the car behind them.

Time slowed down again once more.

Wendy would be a liar if she said that the future concerned her. If there was one thing that Wendy was sure of about time, it was that anything could change it. Time was not… fixed. It wasn't set in stone or the like. Already Logan's presence was causing ripples. Like the fact that he met her, which she knew that had his consciousness not been sent back in time, there would probably be a good few years or even decades before the original him and her would meet.

Already this could be enough to change the fate of the future, with or without her there. It would fix itself, Wendy present or not. She wasn't the least bit worried. If anything they probably wouldn't even need her help, the chances that they would achieve what they hoping to was high. Wendy rolled that thought around her head. But then again… a push was good, but the right push was better. The possibility that Raven – or Mystique – might not be stopped was still there, along with the construction of the sentinels.

In real time, or, in the perception of time in which every human in the world perceived together, Wendy rubbed her eyes tiredly. It hadn't even been half a minute since Logan stopped speaking.

"Right then," she inhaled a lungful of smoke from her almost forgotten joint. "where to next?"

A backup plan was good. A chance to redo it was as good as any. After all, Wendy out of all people knew that time wasn't limited to only two paths. Who knows, maybe the world would end in war and chaos sooner than later.