The Prophecy

"I told you, you're not welcome here," the bartender's voice cut through the tension in the room. Cecily lingered by the pool table, letting Wade handle it because she wanted no part of this mess.

"You're not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar," the bartender growled, his patience wearing thin.

"Just give me one more drink, and then I'll leave," Logan's voice was gruff, a sound that sent a jolt through Cecily. She stood frozen, struggling to reconcile the familiar tone with the unfamiliar man before her. It was his voice, but not her Logan. Not the one she had lost, not the one she had mourned.

"That's not how this works," the bartender snapped.

"It does now. Leave the bottle," Wade interrupted, leaning casually on the bar.

Logan narrowed his eyes. "I know you, bub?"

"Nope, but I know you," Wade replied.

"Everybody knows me," Logan said with a grunt. "I'm the Wolverine."

"Yes, you are," Wade agreed, "and I'm gonna need you to come with me right now."

Logan looked unimpressed. "Look, lady, I'm not interested," he said, dismissing Wade with a wave.

"Really getting into your cuffs there, huh?" Wade started, but Logan cut him off.

"Why would I go with you?" Logan asked, poking Wade's forehead with a finger.

Wade didn't miss a beat. "Because, unfortunately, I need you. And even more unfortunately, my entire world needs you."

The bartender, tired of the back-and-forth, chuckled. "You two gonna fuck or fight?"

A moment of silence hung in the air as Logan stared at Wade, not giving a clear response.

"You gonna take that from him?" Wade asked.

"Yep," Logan said flatly, not giving in to the provocation.

Wade sighed, clearly unimpressed. "I can tell you've got this 'don't get too close, I'll only break your heart' vibe going on," he started, "but every other Wolverine would've really hurt me by now. And creepy Peanut back there told me you're the one I need." He pointed toward Cecily, who stood with her back to them, visibly uninterested in Wade's antics.

Logan followed Wade's gesture, his expression shifting from annoyance to something more profound when he saw her. That hair, long and blonde—it was a sight he hadn't seen in years, one that had haunted his nightmares more times than he cared to count.

"Yeah, yeah, you can stare all you want later," Wade cut in, snapping Logan back to the present. "But I'm sort of on a tick-tick, so upsy-daisy, here we go." He moved to lift Logan from his stool, his usual lighthearted sarcasm underlined by a note of urgency.

"Woah, hey, easy," Logan said, struggling to stay upright as he stood up.

"There you go," Wade said, steadying him. Cecily heard the familiar metallic snikt of Logan's claws extending.

"Oh, whiskey dick with the claws," Wade remarked with a smirk. "It's quite common in Wolverines over 40."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "You don't want this."

"You're right, I don't," Wade replied, pulling out his gun and aiming it squarely at Logan's head. "And you don't want this either. Unless you're keen on breathing through your forehead, I suggest you reconsider. Let's go, Peanut."

Logan chuckled darkly. "Oh, hold on, hold on. Watch this." He grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the bar and stumbled slightly, nearly losing his balance.