Scott and Jean were sitting watch in the control room of the Danger Room when the rift opened again. “Not again,” Scott exclaimed in mild surprise. He stood up to peer down at the anomaly below them. “Just how many kids does Logan have in the universe?”
“They aren’t all from this universe, remember,” Jean reminded him with a smile. She too stood up to see who it would leave in its wake.
The rift lit up the training room with a bright glow that made both of them squint their eyes against it, before depositing a small child in the center of the room, and blinking out of existence again.
Jean smiled and exchanged a glance with Scott before heading down to collect the child while Scott hit the comm button. “Logan---?”
“Yeah?” came over the speaker on the console.
“You better get down to the Danger Room.”
“You gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“Wish I were, man,” Scott told him.
Logan had been sitting down to have lunch with Hank and Ororo when the call came through so they decided to accompany him to greet the new visitor. When they walked in Scott was standing a short distance from the blast doors grinning. Jean was further away seemingly focused on a game of Hide and Seek. Her red head appeared and disappeared around some crates and other equipment at the far end.
“What’s goin’ on?” Logan asked as he entered the room.
“Jean’s trying to round up our latest guest,” Scott grinned. “You’re gonna love this one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan’s voice rumbled.
“Dada!”
The tiny voice caught their attention and the group of adults looked toward the other end of the room. Jean popped out from behind an equipment crate looking in the direction of the tiny voice.
“Where is he?” she asked.
The four other adults scanned the room curiously when the pitter-patter of tiny bare feet caught Logan’s attention. He stepped forward and moved in the direction of the sound when the toddler came running out into the open.
Logan stopped and watched as the little boy ran toward him.
“Da…da!” he screeched.
Ororo and Jean beamed at the sight. Hank and Scott grinned in amusement as the child ran up and slammed into Logan’s legs.
“Dada! Dada!” His little fists clutched at Logan’s jeans. Logan bent down to pick the boy up but he went between Wolverine’s legs and hid behind him. “Dada, Dada, Dada,” he chanted and then ran off again as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him.
Logan turned to watch as Jean went after him. She laughed as the baby led her on a merry chase again in and around the crates and equipment.
“He’s fast, I’ll give him that,” Hank commented.
Logan shot him a strange look.
“Gotcha!” Jean’s voice followed by a squeal and then a scream drew their attention.
She emerged from the stack of crates carrying a kicking, screaming, diaper-clad hellion. He had dark hair and dark eyes and was pitching a fit at having been caught. Despite the wrestling match Jean found it rather funny as she walked up to Logan who was staring at the banshee in her arms with a dismayed look.
“Oh yeah… he’s yours,” she said.
Scott laughed at that and Ororo simply smiled.
“I would like to give him a check up, if you don’t mind, before we go upstairs. Get it done before he meets his brothers and sisters,” Hank suggested, blinking over the rim of his glasses at the raging child in Jean’s arms. “I’ll get set up, bring him along if you will,” he said and exited the room.
Logan was still staring at the child who was fit to be tied when Jean leaned toward him to hand his son over.
“Here ya’ go… Dada,” she said and dropped the baby into his arms.
Logan had to hold on tight as the boy kicked and squealed to be let down.
Ororo and Jean accompanied him to the infirmary with his charge while Scott went back to the control room to keep watch again.
________________________________________________________
In the Medical Bay, Hank was giving the toddler a serious check up but could find absolutely nothing at all wrong with the boy. Logan stood a few feet away watching the entire scene with his large arms folded across his chest. Ororo and Jean were all smiles while helping to keep the boy on the bed.
He crawled from the head to the foot, then stood up and toddled a moment before catching his balance and nearly running right off the edge of the bed. Hank had to catch him as he launched himself into the air. He put him back on the bed where Ororo had to wrestle to keep him in place and that didn’t work very well. Jean couldn’t stop smiling.
“How do we know this one is mine,” Logan asked, but it sounded more like a statement.
The three X-Men turned and looked at him as if he was in denial.
“Are you serious, Logan?” Jean asked with a laugh. “He looks just like you!”
“Behaves like you as well,” Ororo added, which only made Jean laugh aloud.
“I must admit,” Hank added, “I’m not feeling any doubt on that being in question either. And obviously the Wolverine in the other reality believes, or knows, this child is the son of one of your incarnations.”
Logan sighed and dropped his arms, placing his hands on his hips. “What am I supposed to do with him?”
Hank tried to listen to the boy’s lungs and heart with a stethoscope, but the boy kept grabbing it and squealing into the microphone, making McCoy cringe. He pulled the ear pieces out of his ears to save his hearing and answered Logan’s question. “I would suggest that you just be his father.”
Logan’s expression twisted into a silent question.
Hank shrugged. “He’s going to need a name while he’s here,” he said and looked to Logan. Everyone else looked to him too.
“Oh… umm... I dunno.” Logan said, scratching his whiskers. “What about… James?”
“James?” Jean asked, wondering if there was a specific reason.
“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “James… James Hudson…” he said, thinking about his long time friend. “James Hudson Logan,” he said with a smile and then the smile faltered, replaces with a frown. “I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll be here to help,” Jean said as she slipped a snap shirt on the tiny boy, snapped it closed around him and lifted him off the bed to put him on the floor.
He immediately took off, running past Logan and out the door. Logan could hear his bare feet padding down the tiled floor as he stared at Jean like she was crazy.
“Oops, sorry,” she said with a smile.
Logan turned and moved swiftly out the door and followed the sounds of tiny feet on the hall floor. He finally caught up with the boy after two left turns and a right and he was still going strong. When his father came up behind him, scooping him up on the run, the boy screeched loudly and laughed.
“Gotcha!” Logan said.
After corralling the youngster, Logan thought it might be a good idea to bring him to the playroom to meet some of his other siblings. Since the mansion wasn’t actually set up to tend to pre-pubescent children, much less toddlers, the professor had designated the small parlor off the main library as a place for the children to spend their days playing and socializing with each other as well as the students of the school who chose to visit them when they weren’t in a scheduled class “ those who were old enough to go to class, that is.
Baby Hudson succeeded in causing chaos in any room he entered; whether he was simply pulling toys from the toy box and throwing them as far as he could in all directions “ which wasn’t more than a couple of feet from wherever he was standing, or trying to climb on Kirika’s lap, slamming himself into Scotty’s legs as the older boy sat reading a book near the window, or getting in the way of Jade coloring in her book by stealing her crayons.
Often it was either Jean or Ororo watching over the children- or, as Logan liked to refer to them in private, The Daycare of the Damned “ sometimes one of the older “foster” siblings, like Kitty or Jubilee would babysit. Far too often it was Logan stomping down the main hallway to the parlor to put an end to some discourse that Hudson had started, often scooping up the toddler and taking him from the room.
With his acute sense of hearing, he was never far enough away to not be able to hear any issues arise. His sudden appearance in the door frame usually ended any complaining and whining immediately, although Baby Hudson seemed too young and too oblivious to understand that his father’s appearance demanded a sense of decorum. He’d continue to terrorize his brothers and sisters, or continually evade Ororo and Jean’s attempts to snare him, until Logan stepped into the room and scooped him up; to which he’d kick and howl to be let down, forcing Logan to leave the room with him.
He’d take the boy down to the sub-levels and let him loose down there to run up and down the wide lengthy corridors where he could release all that energy without bothering anyone. Logan would sometimes just stand with his hands resting on his hips and watch as the midget juggernaut ran past, this way... then that way. Other times Logan would chase him, making comments like, “I’m gonna getcha”, which would make the boy screech in a tone shrill enough to shatter glass.
That’s where he could be found, until it was time for a snack or to sit down for a meal with the others… or time to change the diaper. Whew! Now that was a test of dedicated parenting for a guy with a bloodhound’s sense of smell. His nose would twitch at the first scent of something occupying that diaper, which, besides other benefits, assured that the child would never remain in a soiled diaper for long.
That’s where Jean found him this time… again. She stood in the doorway watching him. He had Baby Hudson on the changing table in the “nursery” and wrestling the boy to keep him safely on the table with one hand pressed to the boy’s belly and the other hand grabbing the wipes, the powder, and then a new diaper. He flipped it open and slid it under the wiggling buttocks and swiftly pulled the other side up between the flailing legs to secure each side with the sticky tabs.
“What will they think of next, eh?” he muttered, remembering the days of cloth diapers and safety pins… which he also recalled weren’t all that safe when dealing with a wriggling chaos engine. He chuckled softly to himself at his play on words.
Once he had the boy secured again, Logan let him stand up on the table while keeping his large hand on the baby’s tummy to keep him from jumping off. He gathered the dirty diaper up in one hand and toed the diaper disposal bin with his foot. When the lid opened wide he tossed it in with a little bit of gusto, resembling a basketball player dunking the ball.
“There we go. All done!” he declared with a smile at his tiny son.
The boy bounced on his toes and tried to dive over Logan’s hand to the floor, echoing his father’s exclamation. “Aw dun!”
Logan caught him easily. “Whatdya’ doin? Tryin’ to fly?” So with that, he held the boy on his hands and swung him in a circle like a plane. “You wanna fly, huh? Here we go!”
Hudson squealed in delight as he went around in a circle faster and faster. Logan laughed too as they took a moment to play together.
“You’re a natural,” Jean offered from the doorway. She smiled when he slowed and looked at her.
“It ain’t that hard,” he replied, not at all surprised by her voice. He’d scented her perfume long before she arrived at the door.
“Some people would argue with you on that,” she said and stepped into the room. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
Logan stopped playing with the boy and looked at her. He hefted his son to his shoulder and grinned at her. “I’m doin’ great,” he told her.
Jean studied him for a moment; his eyes, his expression, his body language, and she had to smile because she realized he really was doing great. Fatherhood suited Logan, to everyone’s surprise. And to become a father to so many so fast, they thought he’d be overwhelmed. He did have his moments when he just threw up his hands and walked out of the room or out of the building, but those weren’t many, nor did he leave for long. He seemed to really like having a big family.
“Aw dun!” Hudson told Jean loudly with one tiny arm in the air and kicked his feet against his father’s abdomen.
“Oh, man,” Logan grunted. “You’re a bruiser,” he said and let the boy down.
The toddler immediately sprinted out the door and down the hall on tiny legs and disappeared. Logan and Jean watched him as he rounded a corner and was gone. Jean looked at Logan and smiled. Logan looked at her… and shrugged.
----------------------------------------------------------
Lunch was an interesting event. While the other children were old enough to take care of their own needs, Hudson and Kendall were still far too young to be able to tend to themselves. The older siblings sat with the younger ones and were able to help them with any details… like picking up a dropped spoon and replacing it, or reaching the napkins, or pouring another glass of juice, etc.
It was Spaghetti-O’s with Meatballs for Scotty and Jade who didn’t have Chef Boy-R-Dee in their alternate reality. The rest of the children had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches which Jean and Kitty put together and one request from Brian to have the crust trimmed from his sandwich and suddenly everyone wanted theirs cut off too.
Ororo sat with Kendall at a small round table near the windows and stirred the small bowl of soup, blowing on it carefully as she fed it to the little girl. Kendall seemed more intent on her grilled cheese sandwich than caring about whether the soup came with it or not.
She blew on another spoonful and Kendall opened her mouth to receive it. Ororo fed the soup to her baby daughter and looked to her table companion to see how he was faring with his little lunch partner.
Logan’s sandwich was three inches thick with smoked ham and cheese, not grilled. Next to him he had a small bowl of cooked green beans which he spooned out onto the tray of the high chair for Hudson to pick up with his fingers. It kept the boy occupied while practicing fine motor skills and learning how to feed himself.
In between the finger beans, Logan pulled a piece of ham out of his own sandwich and held it on the tip of one finger in front of the little boy. Baby Hudson would look at it, and reach out for it, plucking it from his father’s finger capturing it in a balled up fist and shoving it in his mouth rather inelegantly while chasing another green bean across the tray with tiny stubby fingers before capturing it.
Logan glanced over to see how Ororo and Kendall were doing only to find Ororo smiling at him.
“What,” he said.
“Nothing,” Ororo said still smiling.
Logan smiled back. He looked at her thoughtfully then his gaze moved to their daughter. Their daughter. Those two words caused his heart to leap in his chest with the thought - No, with the fact. Kendall was the daughter of Storm and Wolverine. Who woulda thought?
Logan blinked again because the way Ororo was smiling at him, it would seem as though she might’ve thought it… once or twice.
Really?
“Are you all right?” Ororo asked; her voice pulling him from his contemplation.
“Huh?” he said.
“Are you all right?” she repeated. “You look… distracted.”
“Oh,” he said, thinking. “Yeah, I guess I am… a little.”
“Do you wish to talk about it?” she asked, feeding Kendall another spoonful of cooled soup.
“Ummm… uhhh,” he stammered. “Umm… I don’t think so…”
Ororo smiled again. “You do realize that we should probably discuss this at some point, right?” she pointed out.
Logan’s face twisted into a pitifully confused expression. “Do we have to?”
Ororo’s smile grew and she laughed lightly; not at him, but with him. She understood the mixed feelings that they both felt when they first saw Kendall, but where Ororo embraced the young girl and her existence openly, Logan seemed to be better when not thinking about it too deeply.
“I would like to talk about it, if you are open to it… at some point,” Ororo told him casually, not putting any demand to her tone; after all, the baby girl was not truly theirs, but belonged to an alternate version of themselves.
Logan tore another piece of ham from his sandwich and held it closer to the baby. Hudson reached for it but couldn’t quite get it and Logan was deep in thought and not paying attention. So Hudson reached out with two little hands and grabbed onto his father’s larger one to pull the food laden digit closer to him. When the food was within his reach, Hudson leaned forward and took the clump of sandwich meat from the tip of Logan’s finger with his mouth, nearly biting off the tip of Logan’s finger in the process.
“Owww!” Logan barked, pulling his finger away from the boy. He looked at it and saw two puncture holes quickly healing and his gaze shot to Baby Hudson who was giggling and chewing his well earned prize.
Logan reached out and used fingers from both hands to pry the boy’s mouth open gently to peer inside. Hudson whined loudly at the intrusion, trying to push his father’s hands away. Logan could see the chewed ham on the boy’s tongue then looked at his bottom gum line to see a tiny tooth in the front. He moved his thumb on the upper gum and exposed two tiny fangs.
“Logan!” Ororo admonished when she saw him grab the boy’s face and Hudson began to resist.
“Holy crap! He’s got fangs!” Logan exclaimed.
“So do you,” Ororo reminded him with a disapproving look.
“Yeah, but I got a full set of chompers!” he said. “He’s got three teeth and two of them are oversized canines?? Is that right? Shouldn’t he get his eye teeth and grazing teeth first?”
Ororo blinked at him. “Grazing teeth?” she echoed.
“You know what I mean,” Logan told her. “I mean... is that right? Babies aren’t supposed to be able to rip flesh from bone at a year old.”
Hank turned in his chair nearby to answer Logan’s concerns. “First… the boy is probably about sixteen months not twelve. He can run like the dickens, but that’s not so unusual for younger toddlers to be able to walk and even run early. His speech ability and fine motor skills however are indicative for a child sixteen to eighteen months of age.”
Logan looked at him and Henry blinked, pushing his glasses a bit higher on his nose.
“The fangs, however, are obviously part of his mutation… which he must have inherited from his father.”
Logan tilted his head with a sarcastic look at McCoy. Henry simply grinned.
“Big help, Blue.”
“You’re welcome.” Hank turned back to his own lunch companions. Jean smiled openly at Logan and Scott was at least cognizant of the fact that it was better to disguise a grin by shoving half his sandwich in his mouth and pretend he hadn’t heard a thing.
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