He had noticed it in the boys diary, no one ever touched him with out his holo-watch... and usually not even with it. When Logan had read the diary, he hadn't been intending on prying... but he was so bored! Every day he would sit and read, but at night he grew restless. Logan slept for maybe three hours a day, and that was broken into half hour naps, so at night he would exercise, pace, and apparently stumble across the kids diary. The first time it had just been poking out from under the mattress slightly, and he had put it back as soon as he had figured out what it was.

Then his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Logan had snuck the journal out a number of times and had completely read it at least twice. Logan feigned a hatred for poetry, but in all honesty he loved every word the boy had written. It told tails of being outcast, unwanted, heartbroken, forgotten... it was beautiful... it was everything he felt put to words. His hand lingered on the boys cheek as he recalled a particular page about a girl that had moved in to kiss him on the cheek at school, only to scream and never speak to him again when her lips met fur. The girls memory of the moment had been wiped, but Kurt's hadn't.

Finally Logan pulled his hand away and knelt by his bedside, pulling up the edge of the fitted sheet, exposing the mattress. Kurt fought the urge to put his hand to his cheek where the man's had been, the white hot memory of the warm fingers burning his skin like a beautiful fire. Kurt never wanted the feeling to fade. Logan was looking at the mattress now like nothing had happened, and said gruffly as he pointed at a seam "Here's good."

With that, he slid the tip of one of his claws out, and sliced the mattress open. The gash was about as long as the book was wide, and Logan carefully slid the precious book inside. He pulled the fitted sheet down, and it was like the book had never existed. Almost involuntarily Kurt's three fingered hand reached out to touch Logan's, just as he stood and pulled it away. Craving the feeling of human skin one more time before it slipped back out of grasp, there was no telling when someone would be this close to him again.

Wolverine's hand moved to quickly, but hesitated when he saw Kurt's slightly raised hand out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, and moved back slightly, letting Kurt have the opportunity he craved. Kurt took Logan's hand and looked carefully at it, examining his knuckles with thorough intent. He pointed one thick finger at the bleeding knife wound between Logan's first and second knuckle where Logan's claw had sliced through his skin to open the mattress."But it won't heal?" Kurt asked simply, looking up at Logan with worried eyes.

It was true. Logan had just gotten over the power impairing disease, and his healing factor was still down for the count. For a long moment both of them stared at the still bleeding cut on Logan's hand, as it began trying to clot. A thing Logan's body had not done in a very long time. After careful consideration of all of the reactions he could have, Logan finally chose a quote from one of his more favorite poems from Kurt's book. "Some things are more important." He said, for once a growl not hanging on his words.

Disappear into the sky's, God watching on.

A little boy cries, his food was now gone.

T'was stolen by a brute, stronger and better.

A little boy roots through the garbage for dinner.

From the heavens comes a creature of dread.

His past hellish and sordid.

He gives the boy his last bit of bread.

Saying, "Some things are more important..."

That was all Logan could remember of a much longer poem. He knew that phrase in the story had carried a sort of secret meaning. It meant that the giver was willing to give everything... the last bit of what they had... And that the receiver would never know what had been done for them to be provided for that day. Later in that story, Kurt had ended up catching himself a sewer rat, and cooking it over a hobo's trashcan fire after giving the other child the bread that had been given to him by the church priest.

"Some things are more important." Was written on the outside of the diary, in beautiful swirling penmanship. More than ten of the enclosed stories revolving around that thought. It was the thought Kurt lived his life by. Give until you have nothing to give, then give a little bit more... but never let them know what it took. Logan smiled as he thought to himself "This boy would slice his own arm open to let a thirsty man drink his blood as sustenance."

After reading the book, Logan was in awe of the heart Kurt had for other people. It was one of the only reasons he was so patient with the kid. The boy had been abused and rejected every moment of his life, and still wanted to give the shirt off his own back to keep another freezing person warm. Telling them his fur was plenty cozy. That was another story in the book. Kurt even noted that his fur cant keep him warm against a light breeze, let alone the snow that had come that winter. Kurt had almost frozen to death in a basement for that one.

Absently Logan found himself stroking Kurt's hair as he mulled on this thought. The hair on his head was as soft as the fur on his cheek, only longer. Snapping back to awareness Logan went to pull his hand away, but stopped at the tears that welled up in Kurt's eyes as he did. The professor had recently helped him unlock a handful of childhood memories, and even back then Logan was never a touchy person. As a child he had fought his mother on hugs, and any boy that did so much as pat him on the back got a fist to the face. That time felt like a thousand years ago, and no one had touched him since. It felt strange to be wanted so badly by someone.

After a long pause for thought and against his better judgement, Logan sat on the edge on the bed and gestured for the blue boy to move closer to him. He may be a hard-ass mother-fucker... but after reading that book, he would be a heartless bastard to leave this child without a shoulder to lean on. Though, as he thought about it, Kurt wasn't exactly a child. He was in fact 19, and was taking high-school only because he had never had the opportunity to before hand. Logan dismissed that thought. It was better to think of the boy as a child.

Kurt tentatively pushed himself toward Logan, finally leaning against his chest. Logan wrapped his arms around Kurt, and felt his shoulders shaking as he began to cry. Logan knew from his reading that Kurt had never been held like this by someone in his life. Kurt was now fully sobbing in his arms, and Logan ignored that he was probably getting sickness slime all over one of his better shirts. Sick, miserable, and never felt a caring hand touch his skin... it would be cruelty to leave him alone right now. It was no wonder the boy regularly cried in his sleep.

Logan had also never felt anyone this close and it was strange... It was nice. He began petting Kurt's back with one hand as he held him close, being sure to travel with the fur. He wasn't sure where comforting words were coming from in him, but they came. "... Its gonna be ok now... I got you." Logan mumbled, grimacing at the strange feel of the words, comfort not one of his natural talents. It worked though, and soon Kurt's sobbing was back to lightly shaking shoulders.

Finally, what may have been an hour later for all he knew, Kurt pulled back to blow his nose. Once his sinuses were clear he curled his knees to his chest, like he expected Logan to treat his crying as an offense. The opposite was true, and Logan put his arm around the boy as a father would a son. In Logan's arms he felt so safe like there was nothing to be afraid of ever again. For another long while they sat together, watching the winter drift by through the fogged up window.