Fates Unraveled. Wolverine x reader

The silence pressed in around her, so complete that for a moment, she wondered if she was already dead.

Then—birds. A soft melody from above. A cold wind biting at her skin. Panic-stricken, she pushed herself up, the scrapes on her hands stinging against the cold, sharp ground. She had to keep looking. Had to find them. But there was no one. Nothing.

She'd never seen snow like this before. Sure, she was used to Canadian winters, but it almost never snowed. She crossed her arms, trying to conserve a little warmth as she scanned her surroundings.

No screams. No gunshots. Nothing. It was quiet.

She spun around, the cold air assaulting her lungs. She needed to find their camp. She was sure it was gone—destroyed and abandoned—but she needed proof that this was still where she belonged. That she wasn't alone.

Her legs carried her in the direction of the camp, what had been her home for a mere two weeks. Her surroundings were vaguely familiar, yet the trees they had once marked stood untouched, as though no one had ever passed through. Burrows and tunnels they'd dug for escape were nowhere to be seen.

The only sound was the snow crunching under her feet and her own labored breathing as she fought to find her way home.

As she continued on, the gravity of the situation began to set in, her instincts driving her forward, faster. She needed to find the camp, not just for reassurance, but for shelter. She was cold, her body bloodied and covered in dirt from the tunnel. She wasn't prepared for the sudden shift in the weather.

And then, through the trees—she saw it. The entrance.

Her pulse quickened, and she started running—hoping to find someone. Anyone.

But as she got closer, she realized it wasn't the same. It wasn't what she had expected to see. It wasn't as big as she remembered. It was really only big enough for one person.

Her heart dropped. She didn't know what was going on. As she entered the shelter, she saw a radio and a small lamp. Someone had been living here. At least it was proof she wasn't alone. But it could be anyone. A hunter. A mutant. Or it could be abandoned.

Her thoughts started to race. Where was she? What was happening? All proof of her existence, Logan's, the others—it was gone. Erased entirely.

Until, suddenly, a voice came from behind her—something familiar, something she never thought she'd hear again. 

"Who the hell are you?"

The voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

She turned slowly, her breath catching in her throat.

It was him—though slightly different. He looked younger, the heavy exhaustion she was used to seeing absent from his face. The deep-set bags under his eyes, worn from too many nights spent on guard, were gone. His hair was longer than she'd ever seen it. Even his beard, always trimmed close, was unkempt, growing wilder.

Logan stood just a few feet away, his stance rigid, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. But when he really looked at her—at the blood drying on her skin, the dirt smeared across her face, the haunted look in her eyes—something in his expression shifted.

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face like a shadow.

"Do I know you?"

His tone was sharp, but there was hesitation beneath it. His stance remained stiff, unmoving, standoffish.

There was a slight pause. Her mind blanked as she struggled to piece together everything that had just happened. Just moments ago, she had heard him go quiet.

"I—" her breath hitched, the words catching in her throat. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was here, standing in front of her, alive.

"I thought you were gone," she whispered in disbelief, taking a step forward.

Shed quickly snapped out of her daze, her step forward resulting in a shift in stance, like he was ready to strike. He was watching her, her every movement, her every breath. Before she had a chance to react, her body moved her backwards again, precautioning her from feeling too at ease with him. 

"You didn't answer my question, bub." He replied harshly, clenching his jaw.

His voice was rough, laced with impatience but she barely heard it. She was still staring, trying to process the impossible.

"You—you're actually here," she breathed, almost to herself. Her body swayed slightly, the exhaustion from escape and whatever had happened taking its toll on her. But she had to focus.

Logans expression darkened, "Is that supposed to mean something?" He spoke, his stance remaining unshifted, his coiled tight like he was ready for a fight.

She swallowed hard, trying to shake off her growing confusion, "You don't understand— I know you."

Logan only scoffed, taking a slow step forward. His hands twitched, a small habit of his shed noticed whenever he was on edge, his instincts to unsheathe his claws fighting his urge to reason. "No you don't."

Her heart pounded, "Yes I do," she insisted, her voice trembling, "Logan, I—"

"Enough," he snapped, cutting her off. "You expect me to believe you after you show up hear, half dead and babbling like a lunatic, and I'm just supposed to nod and play along?"

She felt the weight of his glare, piercing against her skin.

"Who sent you?" He demanded, his voice now accusatory. 

She took a shaky step back, her stomach twisting. "What? No one—I swear, I—"

Logan's jaw clenched, a low growl escaping his throat.

"Then start talking," he ordered, his patience running out. "You've got five seconds to tell me what the hell is going."