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“MORPH!”
Their body jerked violently from the impact, and then they hit the ground.
Logan was moving before they stopped rolling. He dropped to his knees, grabbed Morph, and pulled them into his arms.
“No, no, no—”
There was blood, so much blood, too much blood.
It soaked through Morph’s uniform almost instantly, hot against Logan’s gloves. Their breathing hitched.
Morph tried to grin anyway.
“Heh… guess that thing really didn’t like me…”
“Don’t talk.” Logan’s voice cracked. “Save your strength.”
Morph coughed.
Blood splattered across Logan’s chest.
Around them, the battle kept raging, but it sounded far away now. Muffled beneath the roaring panic in Logan’s ears.
“Logan…” Morph whispered.
Their eyes looked unfocused already.
Logan gripped them tighter. “Stay with me.”
“Guess I’ll be…” Another weak cough. “Late to dinner…”
Logan let out a broken sound that barely qualified as a laugh.
Then Morph went limp.
For one horrible second, Logan just sat there.
“No.”
He shook them once.
“Morph.”
Nothing.
“No!”
He pulled them closer, clutching their body against him as if he could somehow force them to stay. Blood covered almost all of him now. Their blood.
Somebody shouted that they had to move.
Logan ignored them.
“LOGAN!” Rogue landed beside him hard. Her face crumpled the second she saw Morph. “Oh God…”
Logan couldn’t breathe.
“They can’t—” His voice broke apart. “Rogue, they can’t—”
Another beam shook the ground nearby.
“We gotta go!”
“I ain’t leavin’ them!”
Rogue looked between the Sentinels and Logan with tears in her eyes. “Ah’m sorry, sugar.”
Logan didn’t have time to react before Rogue was touching his arm with her bare hand.
When Logan woke up, the battle was over. The Blackbird hummed around him.
His head pounded. For one blissful second, he didn’t remember why.
Then he looked down at his hands.
Blood.
Dried brown-red against the blue of his gloves.
Morph’s blood.
Logan stopped breathing.
His hands started shaking.
He stared at the blood for so long that the edges of his vision blurred.
Someone was talking to him. Jean, or maybe Storm.
He didn’t hear any of it.
All he could think was that Morph had bled in his arms.
And he hadn’t been able to save them.
Four Years Later
“Morph’s down!”
The words tore across the room, and Logan turned so fast it hurt.
Morph lay crumpled against the concrete floor of the facility, one hand pressed over their stomach. Blood seeped between their fingers.
Logan wasn’t in the present anymore.
He was back in the forest.
Back with the Sentinels.
Back on his knees with Morph dying in his arms.
“No—”
He reached them and dropped beside them hard.
Morph hissed as Logan carefully rolled them toward him. “No, no—”
But Logan could barely hear his own voice.
There was blood on his gloves again.
Too much blood.
His breathing turned ragged immediately.
Morph blinked up at him, dazed more than hurt. After everything Sinister had done to them, injuries like this only slowed them down anymore. They could now shift and rebuild themselves in minutes.
The bullet wound was already starting to close.
But Logan’s brain didn’t care.
All he could see and smell was blood.
His chest tightened violently.
“Morph— Morph stay with me—”
“Logan. I’m okay…”
No, they weren’t. No, they weren’t. No, they weren’t—
Logan’s hands shook so badly that he could barely hold them.
Someone was saying his name.
The room tilted.
Morph’s expression shifted the second they realized what was happening.
Morph slowly reached up despite the pain and grabbed his face. “Hey, look at me.”
Logan tried.
He could already feel the panic swallowing him whole.
Then Morph tilted his head down, hard. “Logan.”
That got through. Their brown eyes locked onto his. “I’m okay.”
Logan’s chest hitched painfully.
“I’m okay.”
The wound in their stomach was already nearly healed.
Logan knew that.
He knew it.
But his body didn’t.
By the time the mission ended, Logan couldn’t even look at them; he just kept staring at the blood on his gloves.
Back at the mansion, Logan disappeared almost immediately. Morph gave him space at first, but after two hours, they went to find him. They found him sitting alone in his room with the lights off.
He didn’t look up when they opened the door.
Morph hesitated in the doorway. “…Did I do something wrong?”
That finally made Logan lift his head. The look on his face made Morph’s stomach twist.
“Wrong?” Logan repeated quietly.
Morph rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly. “You’ve been avoiding me since the mission, and I thought maybe I—I dunno. Maybe I said the wrong thing or—”
“Don’t.” The word came out rough.
Morph went silent.
Logan looked down at his hands. “I thought you died again.” he swallowed hard. “When the Sentinels shot you… I held you while you bled out in my arms.”
Morph slowly crossed the room but didn’t touch him yet.
“I can still remember exactly what your blood looked like on my gloves,” Logan admitted quietly.
Morph’s chest tightened.
“For years after… Every time I got blood on my hands during a fight, I’d panic for a second.” He laughed bitterly. “Pretty stupid thing for The Wolverine to admit, huh?”
“No,” Morph whispered immediately.
Logan finally looked at them. His eyes were red.
“I knew you’d survive today. I know what Sinister did to you. Hell, half the time I think you’re immortal now. Didn’t matter. Soon as I saw the blood…” He shook his head. “It was like I was right back there.”
Morph’s eyes filled with silent tears. Slowly, they moved closer until they stood between Logan’s knees.
They leaned forward until their forehead rested against his.
“I’m here,” they murmured. “You got me back.”
For a long moment, Logan didn’t move. Then suddenly he pulled them into his arms so tightly it almost hurt.
Morph held him right back.