[ Logan only squints harder. Seriously? How's that make any more sense? But he can admit, he hasn't been an X-Man as long as the others. Plenty of 'em have come and gone, left for other things, joined the Brotherhood, any number of shit. By the time Logan landed on the Professor's doorstep, Xavier's Institute had stood for well over three decades. He wasn't there as a kid, wasn't trained to control his powers or anything like that.
(Something still doesn't completely add up. But Wade sounds sincere, honestā€”for onceā€”and maybe that overrides whatever faulty logic lies in the explanation.)
Another beat. He finally lets go of Wade's wrist.
Nobody's meant to be an X-Man. You're either there or you aren't. Wade obviously decided it wasn't for him. No judgment. Hell, Logan's taken off plenty of times. Rogue, once or twice. That's the point. That's what Charles gave them: a home they could always come back to when they were ready, whether that was a week later or three years down the line. To Charles, it didn't matter the reason or how long it took.
But he gets it, too. Can practically hear himself beneath that I'm not meant to be one remark. He gets it at the same time he can't help the noise he makes: irritated, sorta dismissive. This guy's never met him, doesn't know anything about him; what makes him think he's got any idea why Logan's one of the X-Men to begin with? 'Cause it isn't that he belongs more than anyone else. It's sure as hell not 'cause he somehow fits the picture of peace and prosperity the Professor dreamed of. So much for that, anyway. He's not gonna pretend he was harbouring some distant hope they could fix things. Even after they sent him back on that insane planā€”
(It could've worked. It could've, if he'd just...if he'd done something else, gotten through to Charles faster. Shit, he doesn't know.)
He dumps some syrup on his plate, then rolls up a pancake and mops up the sticky liquid like he's dipping bread in soup. ] I'm not meant for anything, trust me. [ He takes a bite. ] So why didn't it stick for you, huh? Couldn't stand the matching outfits?
no subject
(Something still doesn't completely add up. But Wade sounds sincere, honestā€”for onceā€”and maybe that overrides whatever faulty logic lies in the explanation.)
Another beat. He finally lets go of Wade's wrist.
Nobody's meant to be an X-Man. You're either there or you aren't. Wade obviously decided it wasn't for him. No judgment. Hell, Logan's taken off plenty of times. Rogue, once or twice. That's the point. That's what Charles gave them: a home they could always come back to when they were ready, whether that was a week later or three years down the line. To Charles, it didn't matter the reason or how long it took.
But he gets it, too. Can practically hear himself beneath that I'm not meant to be one remark. He gets it at the same time he can't help the noise he makes: irritated, sorta dismissive. This guy's never met him, doesn't know anything about him; what makes him think he's got any idea why Logan's one of the X-Men to begin with? 'Cause it isn't that he belongs more than anyone else. It's sure as hell not 'cause he somehow fits the picture of peace and prosperity the Professor dreamed of. So much for that, anyway. He's not gonna pretend he was harbouring some distant hope they could fix things. Even after they sent him back on that insane planā€”
(It could've worked. It could've, if he'd just...if he'd done something else, gotten through to Charles faster. Shit, he doesn't know.)
He dumps some syrup on his plate, then rolls up a pancake and mops up the sticky liquid like he's dipping bread in soup. ] I'm not meant for anything, trust me. [ He takes a bite. ] So why didn't it stick for you, huh? Couldn't stand the matching outfits?