Happens during Uncanny X-Men #207 (LOOOOONG time ago).

Neither of the guys is mine. They are Marvel's and Disney's.

The silence stretched between them, unusually heavy and uncomfortable. Except for the dripping sound of water from somewhere close by.

It stretched on and on, while Logan's reopened wounds slowly knitted back and Kurt stared at his friend, jaw tight-set, eyes smothering with fire so intense that it would have effectively pinned to that blood-soaked mattress anyone who wasn't Wolverine.

But he was flamin' Wolverine, blast it, even if he and his healing factor hadn't been quite themselves these days…and he wasn't going to be kept in curfew like a disobedient seven-year-old…though, granted, seeing Elf this high-strung and seething with…something…something very unfitting to the charming blue devil he normally was, had Logan thinking he wasn't the only one who had been turned inside and out lately.

Well, there was Ororo, too. And Chuck. And…

Okay, he obviously had too much free flamin' time on his usually too busy hands, if his mind was spinning like this. Aw, he could use a gallon or two of stiff drinks. Perhaps the Morlocs had a secret store of it somewhere? It was likely to be close to Callisto's quarters…if he sniffed around a bit more…

But there was a Kurt perched on Logan's bedpost, immobile as a gargoyle that Iceman had so pleasantly compared him to a few times, eyes glowing eerie light in the semi-dark of the room and narrowing just slightly, swishing his tail rhythmically from side to side like a tired, agitated cat, and Logan knew he'd been read through and through, with accuracy that would put any telepath in existence to shame.

Not gonna work. Not unless he was in the mood of forcibly shaking the irritated, motherhenning, brimstone-smelling, 170 pounds of blue fur off his hide. Which he wasn't. Truth be told, the state he was in, he wasn't convinced that he could. Not that he'd ever actually admit it to the elf. No $%##$$ way.

The silence was killing him. Which was pretty darn awkward, considering it was usually Kurt who loved to yammer his lungs out when having nothing better to do. And considering that the silence between them was rarely ever uncomfortable in the first place.

Well, not that awkward, perhaps. Not when the one with near-indestructible body is feeling sick like a baby, and the one with the unbreakable, vibrant spirit is skulking, silent, with such desolation etched on his face. Elf seemed to have aged a decade in two weeks, and until now, Logan had been too busy saving the humankind, getting repeatedly cut in half and such, to ask him what the hell was all that about.

„So…" he drawled nonchalantly„…what's up, bub?"

"Keep quiet and sleep, Logan."

"Can't with yer loomin' over me like a &%$%% vulture waitin' for the cow t' snuff out."

"As much as I appreciate the lovely comparison, you're not snuffing out any time soon, Logan, unless you expire from sheer exhaustion which comes with being your kind of idiot, so kindly roll over and get back to sleep."

Well, ain't we in a mood, or what?..."Y'know, Elf, yer one o' five souls still walkin' that can call me an idiot an' keep walkin' on."

"I'm flattered. Overjoyed. Sleep."

Well, this was alarming. So alarming, in fact, that Logan sat bolt upright in his bed and took a decent whiff of Kurt's scent to make sure he was talking to real Kurt and not an impostor. When down, Elf was quiet, but always smiling, always gentle, never sarcastic or rude, even if you stepped on his tail, your foot in metal track spikes.

"What ya been up to lately, Elf?" asked Logan. "'cos whatever it was, it sure got yer tail in one helluva a knot, an' 'Manda said…"

"Nothing", Kurt cut him off. His eyes burned a bit brighter; his scent instantly got thicker, his tail swished left and right, left and right…enough to give a motion sickness to a body. "Whatever she told you, she exaggerated."

"Yeah, sure. Exaggerated." Logan observed his friend, and he didn't like what he saw. The rigid stance, the hard light in the eyes, flaring nostrils, rapid heartbeat, lips drawn over the fangs…crap.

"Y' haven't answered me, pal. What ya been up to?" Logan growled through clenched teeth, now just as alarmed as Kurt and even more irritated. Whatever it was, it was ugly and Elf couldn't cope with it alone. And Logan was going to squeeze the truth out of him in any way needed, he'll kick his scrawny hide, he'll threaten him with his words, fists and claws, he'll beat him until he's bluer than he'd ever been before, but he was going to get it out in the open.

"Oh, you know…all the usual stuff…" Kurt pulled on a large smile, showing all of his white, dangerous teeth, and for the first time ever, Logan felt the hair on his neck stand upon that sight; "…had a few drinks, broke up with Amanda, got in a mess with Arcade, had his butt kicked, rescued a damsel in distress who turned out to be a princess- "

"You what?"

"Arcade, ja. But have no fear, mein freund; he proved to be no match for-"

"Before that!"

"Please, Logan, why the surprise? It's just this time that I was drinking without you. It doesn't mean you aren't still my favorite drinking buddy. In my defense, I needed that drink badly."

"After that!"

"I know! An actual princess to an Euro-"

"You broke up with Amanda? You broke up with her?"

That came out wrong; Logan wanted to bite his tongue before he finished the sentence, before Kurt graced him with one long, questioning look. Damn, he wasn't even properly hurt; just irritated, and maybe a bit angrier.

"Yes. Me. As irrational as it might seem, with my looks and – "

"Now, Elf, that's not what I- look, sorry 'bout- "

"- and the chances of ever finding a woman who'd touch me with anything less than a broomstick on remote control, it was me who plunged the knife where it needed to be plunged, and Amanda had the honor of twisting it properly. Now that you had your bedtime story, Wolverine, would you mind laying back down and, perhaps, shutting up?"

"Y'know, it can't be good if I'm the one talkin' gibberish and you the one t' skulk 'n' brood."

"You know, it can't be good when my friends are being changed, hurt inside and out, when I'm getting a one-night-stand sooner than making up with a woman I supposedly love, and…and…when beings like Beyonder…dare to…"

His voice trailed off; he clenched his teeth again- Logan could hear the grinding- and adverted his eyes, hunched on the bedpost, knees drawn close to his chin, embracing himself as if he was cold to the bone. Logan felt his own skin chill at the sight.

So that was it. The Beyonder; the question of God, the question of good and bad, of purpose of life itself, everything Kurt had ever clang to in order to find the rhyme and reason in his less-than-rosy life path. Things Logan rarely ever even thought about before joining the X-Men in the first place, and some of those being the things he still thought pointless to dwell upon…but they used to be Kurt's foundation he always turned to when he didn't know which way to turn, or where to find strength to survive.

Logan only knew how to turn to his claws. And lately, to his friends. Kurt being the first in the line.

If it was an enemy coming down on Kurt with guns, knives, or superpowers, Logan would know what to do, how to help. He'd stand by Elf's side and fought with him and for him until he still had a breath of air in his lungs and an ounce of flesh on his bones. But this…this abyss Kurt was so precariously perching over, Logan couldn't begin to think of how to cross.

"Elf", he spoke again, not really having any particular plan or idea about what to say. He just had a gut feeling that he had to keep talking, even with all Kurt's vehement demands for silence. Words have always been important to Kurt. Kurt and his books and his movies and his prayers and his philosophical debates. Hell, if only Logan could get so good with words, if only for the occasions like this one. "Elf, c'mon, get down here, sit next to me. Yer givin' me a blastin' headache, an' my neck's stiff 'nuff already."

Kurt's left eyebrow traveled up his shadowed forehead. Of course he didn't buy it. But he swung off the bedpost with a marked lack of his usual grace; a tired, weary, beaten man, and seated himself next to Logan, expression closed. His tail was still making swishing movements from side to side, raising dust from the dirty floor.

Better not mention the Beyonder. Better not dwell there, where he wasn't exactly on the firmest of grounds, where the only thing he had to offer as consolation was 'what the &%$%, Elf, dunno what yer all tied up 'bout- y' can't change a damn thing there, so why all the fuss?'

No, he'd better stick to earthlier things, things he knew at least how they felt; seeing that one last view of a woman's back while she's leaving you for good, throwing yourself into the bed of a stranger, drowning down a whiskey for breakfast, knowing still it won't solve one damn thing.

"So…the princess, eh? No &%$% ?"

A faintest resemblance of a genuine smile tugged at the corner of Kurt's lips.

"No &%$%."

"And yer sayin' that Arcade was…"

"After her. I accidentally got…" he paused; ran a hand over his worn-out face. "Logan, mein freund, forgive me; I'm not the best of companies these days."

"Y' don' have t' be", Logan put a hand on Kurt's back, and the gesture evoked another attempt of smile from the elfin man. Except that his eyes started to glow and glitter in a very disturbing way, and his scent thickened, and it was all Logan could do to suppress a wave of sheer panic. Weeping ladies he never took well; weeping friends he didn't even know what to begin to do with.

"Aw, hell, Elf…" he awkwardly patted Kurt's curly head as if dealing with a child on a verge of a hysterical crying tantrum, or a skulking animal; he had no idea if the gesture was appropriate, but it was all he could think of, and it was the first thing his instincts told him to do, and he still trusted his instincts more than anything anyone would ever tell him about appropriate and proper. "It can't be that bad…c'm'on…okay, from what I can gather, you screwed up royally with 'Manda, but it ain't the end of the world…there, y'still got me…"

Kurt's eyes widened and his face slackened in a dumbstruck expression. Pretty much simultaneously, Logan's brain caught up with his tongue, and he couldn't blame Elf for bursting into a fit of howling laughter that had him doubled over between the bed and the floor.

"Now, that ain't right, that came out wrong, too!" Logan growled in protest, blushing to the roots of his sideburns. "That ain't how I meant- that's now what- and y'bloody know that, Elf- "

He might as well sit on all fours and howl along with Kurt, he realized; there was no way he'd ever be heard over Kurt's laughter anyway. So he chose to settle for a dirty look directed at Kurt, not exactly certain if this outburst of hilarity was an improvement, or another indication that his friend's mind was on a jolly way down the yellow road.

In the meantime, Kurt stared at him, wide-eyed, paused, and came out with another bout of convulsive laughter.

Logan crossed his hands in mock anger and fought a grin that threatened to crack on his lips despite his embarrassment. A crazy, laughing elf was, on any scale, better than a crazy, depressed one.

Finally, the laughter subsided in hiccups, and Kurt sat back on the old mattress, heaving and still chuckling, his fangs standing out like a punch to the face and still managing not to be threatening. How on Earth he did that Logan would never know.

"Y'know, I don't reckon I'll ever put my hand on yer shoulder again without y' gettin' some inappropriate thoughts in yer head", Logan smiled. And Kurt smiled back… but there it was again; as soon as the laughter died out, shadows started to pull over his face again, and Logan was, within moments, left at wonder about what the hell to do now. Again. A few moments more, and Elf's eyes were glittering with damp glow…again.

So Logan ruffled Kurt's hair, again, and said: "Elf, I know it might seem like a rough deal, but 's true. Didn't work out with 'Manda, but y'got Ro an' Pete an' me, an' we're yer buddies an'we ain't gonna let ya eat yerself over somethin' that's done an' over an' can't be changed anyway. Y' got that, pal?"

In response, Kurt leaned his head on Logan's shoulder, curled up tighter than ever, covered his face with his hands, and soundlessly wept.

"$%&% it, Elf…" Logan almost stuttered, clumsily embracing the horrible mess that his friend currently was, not knowing what to do with his hands, how to help, how to do something right, anything… "…I know I ain't much for speeches, but this one wasn't that much of a crap!"

Kurt gave out a muffled, wet chuckle through his nose, his head still cradled by Logan's bandaged hand.

"No, Logan, it wasn't", he whispered hoarsely. "It might…not seem…that way, but it was exactly one thing worth hearing to me now."

Kurt took his time weeping, soundlessly, but the silence no longer seemed uncomfortable to Logan. Only the sound of dripping water was still the same.

END