Logan's been living day to day for as long as he can remember. Likely lived moment to moment when he was a soldier, though he can't recall being' one.
Harry embodies living moment to moment. First he's bringing Logan sticks to hack, then he's flippin' out about hurting the trees. At least his tree-hugger phase only lasts an afternoon, because bein' a lumberjack suits Logan better than most other work 'round these parts.
Harry's fascinated when Logan starts carving spare bits of wood with his claws. Logan carves a howling wolf cub for Harry, and Harry attempts carving with his pocket knife. Harry's carvings don't resemble any animal Logan's seen, and Harry hacks at the thing in frustration, almost slicin' his damn fingers off.
Logan confiscates the pocket knife, and Harry settles for exploring the forest with his stuffed wolverine, probably searchin' for a real one. Logan ain't surprised by Harry's penchant for trying to befriend dangerous animals; kid's happy livin' with him, after all.
Occasionally, Harry strays too far, and Logan has to track his scent down. Harry runs further, until Logan catches him and wrestles for a bit. He's not sure Harry understands when they're playing their tracking game, and when they've stopped.
Still, Logan can't fault Harry fer wandering. They don't stick around long. A few towns over, Logan gets cash by cage fighting again, but leaves before he's too well known as the Wolverine.
Harry's hair grows faster than anyone Logan's known, going all over the place. He tries to shape it into two points like Logan's hair, or maybe he's goin' for wolf ears. Logan snorts, but doesn't insist Harry get a haircut. He suspects insisting on haircuts would mean at least one a week.
Once Logan's hair grows too long, Logan chops chunks off with his claws. It'll form points soon enough. For all that Harry's enamored with Logan's claws, he clearly hates haircuts.
A few days later, Harry hacks his own hair with his pocket knife, and Logan realizes Harry just hates other people cuttin' his hair. The result ain't pretty, but Harry's hair was never neat to begin with, and Logan's not one to talk about unkempt hair.
They slowly make their way from Canada into the western states. Logan gets a cowboy hat and a job as a ranch hand. Harry mistakes coyotes for wolves, and Logan has to stop him from hunting them down.
Logan gets Harry a stuffed coyote, which he's likely viewin' as a wolf. He turns their camper into a damn zoo with toy animals, though some of 'em are ones Logan carved. Harry adds a length of rope as a snake and shakes it around.
One day, Logan finds Harry intently watching a real snake hiss at him, as if it's tryin' to have a conversation. He hauls Harry away, shakin' his head. Logan may be immune to venom, but Harry ain't.
Harry still loves cruisin' around on the motorcycle, roaring down the road, but he's clearly curious about horseback riding. Logan ends up leading Harry around on a goddamn pony ride after the guy took one look at Harry and declared him too small for a grown horse.
Harry grunts excitedly, rocking in the hopes it'll urge the pony faster. Harry seeks speed even more than Logan.
Harry doesn't bring home any more dogs, though his toy menagerie continues to grow, lined up in the nook between the mattress and the wall.
One day, Harry returns with a collar and tags, but no dog. He jangles them excitedly as he tries to slip the collar over his head.
"You ain't an animal." Logan tells him, pulling the collar off Harry's head and slicing the dog tags off. He inspects them and snorts, raising an eyebrow. "You wanna be called Rascal? Suppose yer lucky you didn't find tags that said Princess."
Harry shakes his head vigorously, tugging his hair and thumping his chest.
"Still Harry, huh?" Logan drawls. Harry doesn't seem to care what's on the tags, he just wants some like Logan's. "Didn't know ya were in the army." Logan tells him, though Harry clearly doesn't understand the significance of dog tags.
Logan finds a spare chain, so Harry's not walkin' around wearing a damn collar. Harry ain't a pet, though people in town seem to think he's an animal.
Logan ain't one to keep track of the years, since he hardly ages, thanks to his healin' factor. The days pass, seasons change. They travel from Arizona to North Dakota, back to Canada for a while before heading to Washington State.
On a random day, Harry presents Logan with a cake he must have stolen. Several of Logan's cigars are jammed in like candles waiting to be lit.
Logan drawls "Can't say I've had a birthday party before, bub."
Good thing it ain't Logan's real birthday, or Sabretooth would show up and ruin Harry's plan.
Harry wiggles his fingers like flames, impatiently waiting for Logan to light the cigars.
"Can't blow these out like candles." Logan says, sure that Harry's noticed that Logan doesn't blow on cigars to put them out.
Logan pulls his cigars out, wipes the frosting off, and lets Harry eat the cake. Harry devours it like a predator with a fresh kill, but he can't finish the whole thing. Logan ain't one for sugary crap, but Harry's surprisingly insistent on sharing.
Logan ain't a fan of parties either, but he returns the favor a while later, picking a random date to get Harry a cake, a plastic hockey set, and a few more pocket knives that he knows Harry will use as claws of his own.
He's not spoilin' the kid; Harry doesn't have nearly as much as that cousin o' his, yet Harry ain't complainin'.
Logan makes sure to stay far away from their truck once his birthday really comes around. When Sabretooth comes knockin', he smells Harry on Logan's shirt and says he's gonna have a snack once he's finished with Logan.
The ensuing fight is even more savage than usual, which is sayin' something. Logan's never been restrained in a fight, but he doubles his efforts to keep Sabretooth away from Harry. Logan's still discomfited that he's so protective of Harry, who would be all too willing to throw himself into the fight, and unlike Logan, wouldn't see tomorrow.
Logan survives, heals, and hikes back to their truck. Harry's missing, of course, though Logan hears a distinct howl. He tracks Harry through the trees, finds him sniffin' around, much less successfully than Logan.
This time, Logan doesn't sneak up to wrestle with him. Just strolls up with a lit cigar like nothin' happened. Harry acts like he successfully tracked Logan down, instead of the other way around, and Logan doesn't bother to correct him.
Logan knew Harry stuck out from society all along, but it grows more obvious the more Harry grows. Livin' with Logan sure ain't helping matters. He's probably turned Harry half feral, and his temperament seems to be spreading.
He's noticed that Harry's abilities mostly surface when he's angry. Fair enough; Logan's claws come out when he's angry, too.
Harry still has no control over his abilities; stuff happens seemingly at random when he's worked up. His anger's expressed in snarls and howls, though the same can be said for Logan.
Though he's seemingly feral and independent, Harry shows no embarrassment curling up next to Logan at night and snugglin' his toys. Now that he's prepubescent instead of the runt kid Logan freed from a cupboard, he's far too old to be sleeping in Logan's bed. People might think Logan's some sort o' creep. Logan generally doesn't give a rat's ass what people think about him, but even he draws the line somewhere.
The dining booth in their camper converts to a bed. No matter how many times Logan tries to get Harry to sleep on that, Harry usually winds up crawling next to Logan, as if the dinette bed ain't spitting distance from Logan's.
One day, Logan takes Harry to a dealership with larger, towable campers. They have bunks as well as the dining bed Harry usually rejects, but Logan bets Harry would reject the bunks too.
Harry eagerly explores the upgraded campers, racing back and forth, delighted there's more space to run. Yet as soon as Logan suggests switchin', towing their home behind them while the motorcycle lives in the truck's bed, Harry immediately loses interest. He acts as if removing the truck camper would be dismantling his whole life.
As Harry snarls, the camper's cabinet's quiver, and Logan's gonna end up payin' anyway if Harry blows the thing up.
"Come on," Logan growls, tugging Harry out of the camper before his powers wreck it. Harry relaxes once they're back in their truck home. He clearly doesn't feel it's too small, even though it's been years since he was locked in a cupboard.
They end up keeping their current camper, to Harry's relief, and the motorcycle stays on the trailer.
Their life hasn't changed much over the years. It hasn't felt like years, even though Harry insists on makin' him a cigar cake every winter, apparently not noticing that Logan ain't a party person.
Harry still hasn't spoken a word, and some of his anger seems to be because Logan doesn't always understand him. He still launches himself at Logan to wrestle. He finally starts staying in his own bed around half the nights, once they keep their truck camper.
One morning, as Logan converts Harry's bed back to the dining booth, he sees a letter on the pillow. Scowling, he picks it up. Heavy parchment, a wax seal showin' animals on a coat of arms. Wonderin' who Harry took it from, he flips it over.
There's no stamp or return address. Logan's scowl deepens as he reads the address.
Mr. H. Potter
The Dining Booth Bed
The Truck Camper
Banff National Park