I'm posting a bunch of chapters today so I can post Harry's birthday chapter on his birthday.
"How ya feelin'?" Logan asks, once Harry's head isn't so foggy and his body doesn't feel like he's too close to the stove.
Harry squints at him. He'd felt half asleep a lot of the time, actually asleep the rest, unsure what was real. What he had noticed hadn't seemed real. Why would Logan buy him medicine, or warm up soup on the stove, or bring him a toy wolf?
Harry would have thought he'd dreamed it, but the wolf's right there, and empty soup cans litter the tiny countertop.
Nothing Logan does makes much sense.
There had been an odd sort of comfort in knowing what would happen at the Dursleys, even if it meant yelling and insults and being slapped and shaken around. He was used to hearing he was useless, stupid, a waste of space. He could never quite figure out if they were annoyed or gleeful; maybe both? They seemed to like having proof of how worthless he was, even if they constantly complained he was a burden.
Logan never calls him a burden, and he's the one who actually cared for Harry when he was sick. He'd been there every time Harry woke up. He'd even helped Harry drink juice when he was too weak to do it himself. If anything, Harry had been far more of a burden for Logan, but Logan hadn't simply shut him away until he recovered.
Logan hadn't been as doting as Aunt Petunia was when Dudley was sick, but that would have been ridiculous. Logan's still gruff, not exactly gentle, even if he's the nicest anyone's been to Harry. He said he's not a wolf, but he's wild and strong like one, fiercer than the cuddly toy he'd bought Harry.
Harry throws his head back, pretending to howl. Logan throws the cuddly toy at Harry's chest. "Don't go looking for wolves. You have this one."
Harry has something even better. He reaches out and strokes Logan's hairy arm. Logan huffs and presses a hand to Harry's forehead. "Ya ain't burning up anymore."
Harry presses his hand against Logan's head, under his oddly pointed hair.
"Don't worry, bub. I don't get sick." Logan tells him. "Seems to me you've got a bit of a healin' factor, too."
Harry loves the thought of being like Logan. He supposes he was never sick as long as Dudley, but even he could tell Dudley was faking sometimes.
Harry thought he knew the rules for being sick, but Logan changed them. Logan's changed everything, but the newness isn't overwhelming. It's actually a nice change.
What is overwhelming is thinking that Logan will realize what a freak he is, that he'll decide Harry's too much work, even though he'd just spent a lot of effort caring for him without complaining.
Harry's starting to hope they don't find a mum for him, because Logan never said he'd stick around once they do. Harry realizes, right now, that he doesn't want a mum if it means leaving Logan. Logan might not be what he imagined a rescuer to be like, even if the motorbike fits right in. He hadn't imagined cigar smoke and claws, pub fights and caves, but Logan's better than anything he'd dreamed up at the Dursleys.
Even now that Harry's better, they don't go anywhere. They can't. Snow swirls so thickly that it's impossible to see anything outside their home. Canada's been snowy for a while, which was probably why Logan bought the truck, but now the world outside is blank white, the opposite of Harry's cupboard.
Logan bought a heavy coat for Harry long ago, but not one for himself. He isn't even wearing his leather jacket, just a sleeveless shirt and his dog tags.
Harry throws the bedding at him, but Logan says the cold ain't bothering him. "You keep warm," Logan tells him. "Don't want you getting sick again. I ain't cut out to be a nurse all the time."
Harry stares at Logan's knuckles, but his claws don't come out to cut anything.
"I'd take care of you, if you did." Logan grumbles. "But neither of us want that again. It ain't fun."
Harry's not having fun now, either. He's used to laying still for ages, having spent countless hours in his cupboard. Only now he's used to riding around with Logan, and laying here doing nothing is rather boring.
Harry tries bouncing his ball off the walls and floor. Their home's small enough that his ball can bounce off every wall without flying. But soon that's boring. He spins the remaining wheel of his toy motorbike, wishing they were on the real one.
Logan sighs, and starts telling Harry stories about living with wolves, even though he's a wolverine and that's different somehow. No wonder Logan isn't cold without a jacket, if he used to live out in the snow without any clothes at all.
Harry still thrusts Logan's leather jacket at him when Logan starts pulling on his boots. Snow blows in through the camper's back door as Logan stomps into the storm. The door slams shut, leaving Harry a tad warmer, but alone.
Within seconds, Logan has disappeared into the swirling snow. Harry doesn't hear the roar of the motorbike, but the howling wind might be loud enough to block it.
Harry grabs his toy wolf and follows Logan outside. The cold hits him harder than one of Dudley's punches, but he wants to be brave like Logan. He has his coat, and he's still freezing.
Maybe living in the wild isn't as great as Logan's stories. Harry's grown awfully fond of their truck home, after all, even if he's sick of sitting in it now.
Harry's quickly realizing it's worse out here, but he still doesn't see Logan.
Harry squints, still seeing the bike under its tarp on the trailer. So Logan walked. Is he hunting? Harry trudges forward, sniffing the air, but even the smell of cleaning chemicals bothered him more than it seemed to bother the Dursleys, he can't actually sniff out where Logan is.
Harry turns back to go back to the camper, but now he can't see that, either. He tries to wrap his freezing hands in his toy wolf's tail. He only gets colder and more lost, until in an instant, he's back in the truck. Logan's here, too, growling. "You tryin' to get sick again, bub?"
He doesn't wait for an answer. "Forget gettin' sick. You could've died out there."
Harry shivers, his clothes dripping on the floor. Logan pulls Harry's coat off him, slinging it over the clothesline as he demands "Do I have to start locking you in here?"
Harry shrieks. He wants to storm away, but there's nowhere to hide in here. He whirls towards the door, but Logan grabs him, snarling not to leave.
Harry smacks himself for his stupidity. He's ruined everything, and now Logan's not just growling and grumpy, he's getting mean. He keeps peeling Harry's wet clothes off, having clearly decided Harry doesn't deserve them.
Maybe he's going to throw Harry out, naked in the snow. Harry wonders if the wolves will take him in, or if he'll die in the cold. He doesn't know why Logan's mad about it, if he's going to toss Harry out.
But then Logan's hoisting him up to the loft with the bed, bundling Harry up in the duvet. Not gently, but not cruelly. He's still muttering about how stupid Harry was, and Harry is unpleasantly reminded of Aunt Petunia.
Harry turns away. He knew it was only a matter of time before Logan realized. Logan's stopped muttering, but the words replay in Harry's head until Logan speaks again.
"I ain't actually going to lock you in here. But you can't go wanderin' off. I know we're drifting around, but you ain't gonna make it out there yerself."
Because he's dumb, and not nearly as strong as Logan. Harry stares blankly at the blankness of snow out the window.
Harry knows he wouldn't survive without Logan. Logan's the one getting the food, both buying and hunting. Harry can't drive, he'd be stuck walking everywhere, and he just learned he can't walk in this storm.
A while later, Logan says "Yer not dumb, kid, but you can't keep wandrin' off. I ain't losin' you, got it?"
Harry nods into the pillow. The Dursleys didn't even care that Harry left, but Logan does. It almost makes up for his anger.
The bike won't start after the storm. Logan swears at it, and Harry tries to fix it with his powers, even though he doesn't know how. But then, he doesn't know how he made it fly, either.
Harry's careful to stick close to Logan, not straying too far as he hunts for cool rocks.
Logan grabs a toolbox and starts getting to work fixing the bike. Harry watches, fascinated. His toy hadn't had any of these parts, even before Logan chopped part of it off.
Watching Logan working with the tools, Harry wonders if Logan can fix him, so he doesn't do stupid things like wander off into the snow.
He grabs Logan's hand and guides it, tool and all, to the lightning scar on his forehead.
"It ain't gonna fix you, bub. There's no fixin' us." Logan puts the tool back in the motorbike. "Ain't nothin' to fix."
At least, not with Logan. His body heals so fast, it's like it was never broken in the first place.
Harry raps his knuckles against his head. "Yer not dumb, kid." Logan says. He's never been one for compliments, but he seems to be trying to make up for what he said during the storm. "You're better company than anyone else I know."
Harry glances back at his toy wolf, and Logan smirks. "Yeah, yer better than wolves."
Harry grins, leaning into Logan. He's better than wolves, and he doesn't stay mad like the Dursleys.