Imagine being the child of Victor Creed and sharing his mutation. One day you meet your uncle.
The door to the cabin slammed open and Victor Creed entered, shaking off snow from his shoulders. The youth sitting on the ground by a wood stove glanced up from the book in their hands, but made no move to greet him. Victor walked up to the younger of the small shelter and knelt down to eye level.
“C’mon y/n. We’re leaving town.” Y/n looked up from one of the few books they owned that they were reading. It seemed that every few weeks or so they were moving. Just last week they had arrived in their new home in the Canadian woods outside a small town.
“What? But dad, we only just got here!” They usually spent longer in their temporary homes. And this town had an actual library. Victor sighed, stood up and grabbed y/n’s coat from the hook near the door.
“Y/n. Now.” With much grumbling, y/n put on a coat, packed their belongings in a backpack, and soon the two were leaving the cabin behind. Victor hoped that they left soon enough.
That hope was shattered when a gunshot rang out and a bullet entered y/n’s shoulder. The teenager let out a scream and Victor pulled the two of them behind a cluster of trees.
Victor swore loudly as bullets splintered the tree next to him. He had thought that they had left soon enough that the soldiers would find nothing left in the cabin, but somehow he and y/n were caught outside.
A small whine caught his attention, and Victor crouched next to the injured teen. The wound wouldn’t kill the kid but it would need attention, but now wasn’t the time for it and y/n couldn’t heal nearly as fast as he could yet. Blood loss would take hold faster than healing would. Victor propped y/n up against the tree and began talking.
“Hey y/n, look at me. I need to leave you here. I’m going to draw them away. You need to run as fast as you can in the other direction. I’ll find you, I promise. Understand?” And when y/n gave a nod, Victor ran out towards the gunmen, claws out and howling like a beast. Y/n waited a few moments and at a fast stumbling run, escaped in the opposite direction of their father.
They weren’t running for long when their legs finally gave out from beneath them. Y/n rolled into a small ditch. The last thing they heard was the sound of boots walking towards their direction.
Logan wasn’t expecting to go out tonight. However, it had been a long day and he felt he damn well deserved a drink.
He certainly wasn’t expecting to find some kid bleeding out near his cabin when he came back. At first he thought it was an animal, but the scent (so oddly familiar) and a closer look proved otherwise.
If he was anyone else he would have either left the kid or called an ambulance. Instead, Logan picked up the kid and carried them towards the cabin.
Goddammit, Summer’s save-everyone attitude was rubbing off on him.
When y/n woke up, they were laying on a couch with their shoulder bandaged. This wasn’t where I fell asleep.
“Who are you kid?” Y/n’s head snapped up to focus on a man with dark hair sitting in a chair across the short space.
“Who are you?” The man took a drink of the bottle he was holding (alcohol, something cheap, something dad would say is disgusting but still drink) and shook his head.
“I asked you first. I found you bleeding in my yard. You were shot. So either I call some cops to drag you off for a conversation or you can answer my question.” A moment of silence, then;
“Alright y/n, I’m Logan. Now what the hell are you doing in the woods at night?”
“In winter, in Canada, while bleeding? Yeah, try again.”
Y/n huffed and tried to stand. Their legs buckled and they would have hit the ground had Logan not caught them.
“Slow down kid. You were shot, in case you didn’t notice. Your probably going to need a doctor.” The youth let out a small chuckle and tried to push him away.
“Yeah, I don’t need a doctor, never have needed one. Usually my dad takes care of things like that if I need them.” Seeing the confusion on Logan’s face, y/n started removing the bandage from their shoulder. Logan began protesting until he saw the wound.
It was partially healed, fresh pick scar tissue having formed.
“You’re a mutant?” Y/n nodded and held out their hands. In moments the nails became claws, sharp and animalistic. Logan just let out a sigh. Just his luck, he goes on a vacation and finds a mutant that was probably being hunted down by the MRD or worse. Rubbing his eyes, Logan began the speech he swore he gave everytime he left the mansion.
“Listen kid, I’m not going to hurt you, or turn you in or anything. There’s a school for kids like you and-“
“No.” Logan glanced up. The teen was glaring at him with such familiar eyes (where had he seen them?)
“I’m not going to some school where I have to sit at a desk all day to learn how to be normal like everyone else. It’s bullshit. And how the hell would you make me go it’s not like-“ y/n fell silent at the sight of three (holy shit was that metal?!?!) long claws coming out of the man’s knuckles.
“It’s not like I’m a mutant? Kid I’ve been alive probably longer than your dad and his dad. Probably most of your ancestors. I’m not going to force you,” Logan put his claws away and continued “but it might be safer for you. You can leave in the morning or come to the school. Your choice.”
Logan was going to keep talking when the door went flying into the hall. Coming in from the doorway was none other than Victor Creed.
Logan stood up, claws out and ready to fight.
Victor was pissed.
Not only had the men ruined his coat, the snow was making it difficult to find y/n’s scent. How hard could it be? They were bleeding all over the place!
And what if something got them? What if they couldn’t get away?
Victor ran faster. He knew the general direction that y/n went in, but otherwise he was searching blind-
There! The scent went down into a ditch and not too far in the distance, a cabin. But there was something else, another scent that was familiar, almost like-
Well, well. His kid was with his brother. This was going to be interesting-but no. He needed to get himself and y/n away from this town as fast as possible. Logan would have to wait another day.
Marching up to the door, Victor debated knocking before simply breaking the door down.
It was a form of knocking, right?
“Y/n, over here now.” Although calm, Victor was tense, prepared for a fight. But his sudden appearance didn’t surprise Logan. What did was that y/n stood and moved behind Victor, steady if not just a little wobbly.
“I see you met your uncle.” Y/n’s eyes widened. This was their uncle Jimmy? Victor had mentioned James Howlett, but never that he was a mutant or still alive! Logan looked equally stunned.
“You had a kid? Who the hell in their right mind would have a kid with you?”
“Very funny Jimmy. We’re leaving now. Nice catching up, hope it doesn’t happen again soon.” With that, Victor grabbed y/n’s good arm and walked out the door. Y/n gave one last look at Logan before the two left, disappearing into the Canadian wilderness.
Logan really needed a drink now. And he needed to make a call to the mansion.
Why couldn’t he ever have a nice normal vacation?
I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.
Do you guys think I should do a sequel? I kinda like it where it is but I could write a part two.