During the flight home and after, Logan could feel Teva drifting in and out of consciousness, floating and sinking but always in pain. She never mimicked enough from him to augment her healing factor and heal herself completely, only ever just enough to mend what needed mending and letting her body do the rest. He found he couldn't force it on her, that only she had the ability to engage her mimicry, and all he could do was be glad that she could do this at all. But that didn't mean he didn't get frustrated with her for not doing what he felt she needed to do; they'd had words about it in the past and likely would again in the future.

After she'd been checked out and given the all clear by Hank, Logan carried her to their room, going through the methodical process of removing her weapons and making sure there were no bullets in the chambers, taking out the clips and setting them aside near their respect weapons; he could clean them himself but she'd get angry with him for that. She took great pride in taking care of her weapons. Then he removed her holsters and began stripping her uniform off, struggling against her almost completely dead weight to remove the skin-tight material. He counted the bullets embedded in the armor, six in the torso both front and back, one just below where her zipper had stopped, another two in the right thigh. He sent a silent thanks to Reed Richards and Tony Stark, who'd designed the armor for the Fantastic Four and the Avengers, for saving her life more than once. Her cowl had been pulled off on the way home to check the wound.

She almost surfaced a few times even under the influence of the painkillers Hank had given her, but after he cleaned the blood from her face and tucked her in wearing only her underwear, she subsided and remained asleep.

He sat on the side of the bed looking at her. The left side of her face was black and blue from the broken cheekbone, the bruising circling up around her eye though it was already less as her healing factor did its work. That was also part of what was keeping her asleep, it worked much more slowly but took much more energy than Logan's did, and even his own was still taking care of some of the internal damage from the fight with Deadpool. After Wild Child had attacked Teva again the merc had come after him and stabbed him more than once; Logan could feel his guts still knitting back together and his spine felt like it was burning, the knife having nicked him there more than once. Deadpool knew where to stab to get the most damage.

Leaving the connection open between them he left their room, still in his uniform, and headed down to the War Room to debrief with the team. The rest of them were also still in uniform though Scott had switched out his visor for his ruby quartz glasses and Ororo's cape was folded on the table in front of her.

"How is she?" the African goddess asked when he entered and took a seat next to her.

"She's out," he answered. "Still in pain but she's comin' out of it slowly. Figured it'd be better to let her sleep, she don't know anything I don't."

Scott nodded, having picked up the conversation. "That's alright, Logan. You spoke to Deadpool?"

"Yeah." Logan slouched in his chair, wincing in pain as his body continued to repair itself. "The blue chick you were fightin', that's Vanessa Carlyle, Copycat. Ya already know Wild Child. Those three together were part o' Weapon X after my time, an' 'Pool mentioned that Creed was workin' fer 'em, too." He crossed his arms over his chest. "There were a couple other guys used to be on Team X along with me an' Vic, Kestral and Maverick, 'but 'Pool said they hadn't agreed to come back."

Rogue frowned from her seat. "So then what in the hell were they doin' at some random halfway house? Lookin' for someone else to join their crew?"

"They were lookin' fer another old member, Kane. He's been off the grid for years now an' musta popped up for them to be searchin' fer 'im."

"And what about you?" Ororo asked. "Certainly you would be an asset to that group, with the training you have undergone."

"He asked if I wanted to come back but he was only half-serious. He knows I'm done with that part o' my life." Logan shrugged. "God only knows what the department's got them doin' an' I don't want a part o' it." Several floors up he felt Teva shift, kept himself from smiling when she reached for his pillow and hugged it.

Emma gave a disdainful sniff and tossed her hair. "Luckily there was no one hurt by those lunatics. The residents of the house were safely kept below in something akin to a panic room though not everyone got inside before the mouth breathers showed up. Several of them were injured in trying to help their fellow mutants."

"I'm just glad that we didn't have to deal with any friendly fire," Kitty spoke up. "It's hard enough sometimes when it's just the team, it would have gone much differently if those other mutants had been involved with the fight."

"Did anyone else see anything? Hear anything?" Scott turned deliberately to the team who'd stayed outside, Hank who'd remained with the 'Bird, Remy and Rogue who'd circled the few blocks around the halfway house.

"Not a t'ing, mon ami," Remy replied. "Was as quiet as a church." Rogue nodded her agreement with a wrinkled nose; clearly she'd been spoiling for a fight and been denied.

Their leader sighed and shrugged. "I guess that's it, then. If any of you think of anything, make sure you let me or Ororo know. Otherwise, you're dismissed."

It was obvious he was looking for more but Logan wasn't too terribly concerned about helping in that area. He was more worried than he'd let on about what was going on with Weapon X, knowing that whatever they were involved in couldn't be good, it never was. They pretty much specialized in destroying as much as they possibly could for their own gain, or the gain of whoever was paying them the most money, and anyone who got in their way or tried to stop them stood a pretty good chance of disappearing off the face of the earth. He had a feeling it was a question of 'when?' and not 'if?' before they came after him to forcefully offer him a place on the team.

He went back to his room and checked on Teva before stripping, his uniform going in the trash (he honestly didn't remember the last time he'd come back with it intact), and then taking a shower that left his skin temporarily pink. When he felt close to human again he washed his hair quickly and got out. He wasn't planning on going anywhere so he only pulled on a pair of loose pants.

His cell was on the dresser and he snagged it before going out onto their small terrace, leaving the door halfway open in case Teva needed something. He still had John Wraith's phone number and he called it, not really expecting an answer; sure enough it went to voicemail and he left a terse message that pretty much guaranteed Wraith would call him back. A second call was made, this one to Christopher Nord, who'd gone by the codename Maverick. When that went to voicemail, too, he left another message and then hung up, cursing. He hated feeling useless with no leads to track down, nothing to do except wait and hope one of them got back to him, and that was assuming either one of them had more info than he did now.

It wasn't his usual way. Under other circumstances he'd take off and hunt down any and all leads, even the ones he knew were slim chances, if it meant a resolution. Especially where Weapon X was concerned. After what had happened in the facility where he'd regained his memories he'd begun wondering when they'd pop up again, knowing it was only a matter of time before they realized he'd triggered the failsafe. Chances are they'd be looking to bring him back and in put him through reprogramming again now that he knew more about what had been done to him and had more of an idea on just who had done it, though to be honest he was still in the dark about a lot of it. Just because he remembered being experimented on and the faces of those who'd done it didn't mean he knew who was actually behind it, who'd funded and sponsored it; he was pretty sure that info was buried deep in government files somewhere, not having seen the light of day in decades.

He had responsibilities now, not just to his team but to the woman he was going to marry. She could understand and appreciate his loner nature but she'd made it clear in no uncertain terms that he was no longer by himself but rather part of a mated pair, and mates took care of each other. If one was in need the other one stepped up and did what was necessary, including smacking them upside the head and setting them straight if they faltered; she'd never agree to let him go off without her, not because he couldn't take care of himself but because she'd proven time and again she wasn't weak, that she could remain by his side without falling. He remembered their argument before going up to Canada nearly two years ago and how she'd asked him to either accept her or let her go.

It hadn't been much of a choice, no matter the fallout afterwards. Now he could no more deny her place in his life than he could deny his feral nature, and that part of him wouldn't let him shut out his mate. They were intertwined so strongly now it would be a type of death to lose her.

Logan looked out at the grounds of the mansion, easily able to see everything even without the lightening sky of approaching dawn. Not even twelve hours ago he'd proposed to Teva and he could still feel the overwhelming joy of her agreement, just as potent now, with the slightest undercurrent of loss trailing behind at the memories of Mariko and Itsu. He still loved them, a part of his heart would always remain buried with them in Japan, and he hoped they'd be happy for him and approve of the woman he'd chosen. While the three might be as different as night and day they had one thing in common: they'd shown him there was hope for a man like him.

He went back in and shut the door on the world waking up outside, adjusting to the quiet sounds of his bedroom. A fan on low sat on the dresser blowing towards the bed, rustling the sheets as it passed over them. Teva's soft breathing was the only other sound until he walked towards her and the wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, and as he climbed in after her she made a snuffling noise that turned into a protest when he tried to take his pillow back from her.

"Mine," she muttered, clutching at it even as he pried her fingers open.

"C'mon, baby," he said softly, reaching out to stroke her unbruised cheek. She nuzzled against his hand with a happy sound that never failed to make him smile. "That's it."

Teva relinquished the pillow even as she reached for him, automatically snuggling in against his body when he lay down beside her. It was still so strange to him that anyone would actively seek his touch, his companionship, need him so much that they'd reach for him in the midst of vulnerable sleep.

"Hi," she said sleepily.

"Hey. How're ya feelin'?" he asked, shifting to get comfortable without moving her too much.

She made a grumbling noise. "M' face hurts."

"I know, baby." His arm automatically came around to cradle her, his hand resting on her hip. "You can mimic more from me, if ya need to." He knew she wouldn't but he had to offer.

"S'ok. Jus' need sleep." Already she was falling back into unconsciousness, roused only by his presence and her need to seek comfort in him before she could rest again. She always woke up if he came to bed after her, unable to settle down completely without him nearby even with their link letting her know where he was; she'd explained to him, not long after they'd first met, that touch was painful to her because it could trigger her telempathy without her consent, and that combined with a physically-unaffectionate childhood had left her wary of contact. Only as an adult had she learned to accept touch again and now she almost craved it, at least where Logan was concerned, so that she was always touching him when he was in the room with her.

His animal side found it couldn't complain because it craved touch, more as a need to mark her with his scent than anything else, but animals were always more comfortable with casual touch than humans were. Mammals that traveled in packs often slept in big piles for warmth and the safety of the young in the middle.

Logan's mind wandered to children and the thought of having them with Teva. There'd been apprehension from her when Remy had mentioned kids and they hadn't talked about it yet, a reluctance he didn't know the cause of. He'd figured they'd talk about it after the party but of course that hadn't happened, with first the fight in the city and then her coming home injured. Likely it had to do with her abusive upbringing and fear that she'd be a bad mother, which couldn't be farther from the truth if her interactions with the kids at the Institute were any indication, and she just didn't have a mean bone in her body when it came to kids. She wasn't built that way.

And he honestly wasn't sure if he wanted kids, anyway. As a carrier of the X-gene it was exponentially more possible he'd produce an X-positive child with a female mutant, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to put that kind of burden on a child in a world that was increasingly hostile towards their kind. And the kind of life he led was dangerous enough without bringing an innocent into the equation; Teva could make her own choices on being with him, weigh the risks and benefits and decide if that was a road she wanted to go down. She'd made it clear she was with him for the long haul no matter what that meant.

He'd really never had urges for children, at least not until he'd found a mate. It wasn't until he'd married Itsu that they'd actively tried to have a baby and while he was overjoyed, he'd have been content with just her as lover and companion. With Mariko they hadn't even gotten to the point where children would become an issue. He wasn't really sure of his own skills as a caretaker, his own ability to bring up a child and direct them on a path of good decisions and success. He knew he'd love them but he was prone to distancing himself for long periods of time when he felt his hold on his beast slipping, and the thought of subjecting a child to that made his stomach lurch.

Teva shifted in his arms and sighed, a sound that indicated she'd drifted off again. She was so beautiful, he thought, even with the livid bruising on her face, the kind of women men like him didn't get chances with. He wouldn't call himself ugly because that would mean he actively paid attention to his own features when really, he just knew he looked like he'd been through it all and lived to tell the tale. He was short, hairy, gruff to the point of being an asshole most of the time, with nothing to offer a woman except strong hands and a heart he was constantly surprised to find he still had. He'd give all that and more to the woman who agreed to be his mate.

His fingers found the end of her braid and he played with it, brushing the strands against his skin. In the dark he could still easily see the color, the deep auburn that blazed with fire in the sun, a holdover from the days when the Vikings had conquered the northernmost end of the country where she was born. Her face held that wild nobility with high, sharp cheekbones and a full, wide mouth that always seemed on the verge of humor, as if she knew some great joke but didn't feel like sharing it with the world. The straight line of her nose was ruined only by a broken nose received in a Danger Room session before she'd gained her mimicking power, leaving her with an injury that did absolutely nothing to take away from her beauty.

Her hand twitched where it lay against his bare chest and only stilled when he placed his hand over it, resting over his heart inside its metal cage. Bit by bit she was luring him down into sleep with her, a silken pull he found himself powerless against especially when he felt the rub of her body against his on the astral plane. Apparently she wasn't so far gone she couldn't enjoy him there.

A grin appeared on his face as he gave himself over to her.