This is a bad idea.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the color was stripped from your skin, leaving them pale and cold with nothing more than an aching tingling in them to let you know that you still had a hold. It would have been easier and faster to fly to where Logan was last known to be in Minnesota, but it also would have been easier to track. You had left the compound hours before without telling anyone where you were going, without telling Steve, and every minute that passed left you with an overwhelming anxiety that the phone would ring to find him angry on the other end of the line.

It wasn't a plan to leave at first, after receiving a call from Charles that Logan was found alive; it had been years since you had seen him, since you had been together, and the idea of his death had long since been resolved in your heart. That was why you were with Steve now, after allowing yourself to move forward and live again. You had told yourself that moving on would be what Logan would have wanted for you after his death, but never once had it occurred to you that you might have the chance to ask him if that were true or not.

You had tried to talk to Steve about your desire to see Logan again, but of course, he didn't think it was a good idea, as you were now starting to wonder yourself. It was a heated discussion, and you came away from it not knowing if he didn't want you to go as a matter of your safety, or if it was because of his own jealousy that he had yet to admit. At the end of it all, it didn't matter; you needed to see him with your own eyes. Your feelings for him were gone, and you were committed to Steve, but this was something you needed to do for your own mind to believe that it was real.

Just as you had crossed the border into Wisconsin, the phone rang with Steve's name bright and persistent across the screen, almost as if the phone itself were angry at you for what you were doing, judging you with every ring until you couldn't take it anymore and finally answered.

"Hi, Steve."

"Smart of you to leave after I left for the mission."

"It didn't have anything to do with that."

"Right."

"Steve, I told you," you sighed shakily, "I just want to talk to him, for my own closure, nothing more. I thought he was dead for so long, and I think I deserve a proper goodbye now that I can get one."

"I would have gone with you," he answered quietly, and you could tell in his voice that he was holding back. "It's not that I don't trust the guy-"

"But you don't."

"But I don't."

"You don't know him, Steve. You only know stories that you've heard, and I admit, they don't make him look too good. But that's not the Logan that I know. It never was."

"Alright."

"You trust me, don't you?"

"You? Yes."

It was difficult to not snap a reply back, but you looked at it from Steve's point of view and put yourself in his shoes; if the roles were reversed, you weren't sure if you would allow him this much freedom with an ex. He was being quite restrained and understanding, given the circumstances and how you left, and you would find a way to make it up to him once you returned. "Then trust that I'm not going to let anything happen."

"I do," he answered after a brief pause. "Well, I guess now I see that you've got a type, if nothing else."

"Meaning?"

"The whole indestructible thing. Just because you've got it too, you have to date one?"

"You're not indestructible, Steve. If I wanted indestructible, I'd date Wade," you chuckled quietly, pausing the conversation to follow navigational directions from JARVIS.

"I'm pretty close."

His comment hung in the air for a few minutes as you drove, watching the road with a hazed attention, your focus more on the man on the other end of the call than anything else. His breathing was slow and relaxed, and you hoped that he was deciding to really trust you and wait for you to come home. It wouldn't be unheard of for Steve to track and chase you, but you knew he wouldn't; it was completely up to you to prove him right or wrong and he wouldn't interfere.

"I love you, Steve."

"I know."

"That better have been a poorly timed Star Wars reference, boy."

"Sorry, sorry! Romanoff's watching it again, I couldn't help it," he covered quickly. "You know I love you, too. Call me when you're on the way home. Take all the time you need to get this out of your system, okay?"

"Subtle, Steve. Point made."

~~~

It might have been hours that passed by as you sat at the end of the long dirt driveway that you knew would lead you to Logan's hidden home. You had counted every pine tree that lined each side of the narrow road twice, wasting time until you could force yourself to move forward, but the moment had yet to come. The chill in the Northern Minnesota air was seeping into the car, the winds blowing against it and crystallizing on the glass of your windows. You had enough gas in Steve's truck so that you could've stayed there for hours more if your fear had kept you frozen in place, but as you leaned over to turn up the heat, a loud bang hit the driver's side door and jolted you out of your trance.

"Hey! What are you doing in my drive...way..." the man's voice faded when he realized just who he was yelling at. "(Y/N)?"

"Logan," you gasped, trying to catch your breath as you rolled the window down. "It's really you."

"How did you find me?"

"Hello to you, too."

"(Y/N), I mean it," he warned, though his voice was still soft from the shock, "how did you find me?"

"Charles."

"That son of a bitch," he growled, rushing around the front of the truck and to the passenger side, yanking the door open and jumping inside with an audible huff. "Well, let's go," he waved you forward, "might as well give me a ride back."

After the initial shock wore off and you drove ahead, it took forever to get to the destination. When you finally reached the end of the winding driveway and his cabin came into view, you realized why he was so immediately angry at seeing you there; no one would have ever found him here, so deep in the woods that the driveway actually faded away into nothing more than a hint of tire tracks to throw visitors off so they might turn around. There was a small pond behind the basic cabin, now frozen over, and trees so dense that even with their branches bare and covered with only a layer of snow, no one would ever see through them and to his hideaway.

"I'm sorry that I came here," you said with a clearing shake of your head, "I shouldn't have. I'll go."

"You drove all the way from New York?"

"Yeah, I figured that taking the jet would be too easy to track. Steve's out on a mission so I kind of stole his truck."

"So you're still dating Captain Righteousness, then?"

"Yes," you snapped back, "and we're actually happy, thank you very much."

"How about that top secret boy band?" he continued without missing a beat. "You still punching their time clock?"

"Yep, I'm just gonna go," you groaned in frustration, waving him off so that he would exit, "I don't know what I was thinking. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, I won't tell anyone where you are. Charles only told me because he thought...you know what, nevermind. Just go."

"No, he thought what?"

"That I would like the chance to hear your explanation for just leaving."

Logan nodded, looking at his feet as his mind processed what he would say next, and how he would answer such a loaded statement that could either satisfy your curiosity or send you into an angry rage. Instead of answering you straight away, he opened the door and stepped out, shutting it behind him to leave you watching blankly.

"Well, let's go," he commanded, "get your ass in here if you want to know so damn bad that you would steal from the most honest guy on the whole fucking planet."

~~~

"I'm waiting."

Logan had been sitting on the opposite side of his small kitchen table for nearly an hour before he looked up at you again, the coffee in his cup now cold and undrinkable. He stood with a harsh push of the chair against the wood floor, sighing heavily as he poured the drink down the sink before grabbing a refill. "It's nothing deep or dangerous, (Y/N). I just wanted to be done with it all. I can't fight anymore. I don't want to."

"Okay? Why wouldn't you be able to tell me that?"

"Because you still do. You're a goddamn Avenger now, (Y/N). You still need to fight for the little guy, and to make the world a better place," he argued, "but me, I'm done. The world will never be a better place, and you just haven't figured that out yet."

"I'd forgotten how pessimistic you are."

"Really?" he scoffed. "I find that hard to believe. Although, getting the old jolly roger from Rogers probably makes your life all sparkly stars and fireworks nowadays."

"You're such an asshole."

"I'm right, though," he nodded, pointing at you with a wink before dropping heavily back into his chair, "you're different than I remember. You are happy, and I'm glad that I left if this is the result. Sure, I was a dick about how I did it, but I'm not sorry."

"Hmm," you muttered, raising your cup to finish what was left of your drink before standing to get more, "at least you have an honest view of yourself." When you stopped at the countertop, his reflection shone in the door of the refrigerator, making you pause to look at him when he didn't know you were seeing him. He looked tired, but he still had a contentedness about him that he didn't have when you knew him before; maybe he really had found his final home and he meant it when he said that he was done with it all. Somehow, he knew that leaving you would ultimately make you happier so that you could each live the life you wanted, and you suddenly appreciated the man for being strong enough to hide.

"You're staring."

"Thinking," you clarified, turning back to face him. "Thinking that I should go. I don't want to risk anyone finding you out here because of me. I can tell that this is where you belong, and I'd never forgive myself if I ruined it for you by coming out here." You put the cup aside and moved to the door, putting on your jacket again as he stood quietly and watched, this time making no attempt to stop you.

"You can come out here anytime, (Y/N). You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Yeah, I do," you smiled, pushing the last few snaps on your jacket closed. He reached up and wrapped your scarf around your neck, pausing his hands next to your face as you looked up at him, unsure of what he was thinking. "I'm glad you're not dead, Logan."

For the first time since you had arrived, a wide smile crossed his lips and a genuine laugh escaped through them, making you laugh along with him. Quickly and unexpectedly, he leaned in and kissed you, holding himself there as if he were committing the moment to his memory as the last he would have of you. He pulled back slowly and sighed, opening his eyes to reveal a sadness that you hadn't seen in him before.

"Tell Steve I'm not sorry for that either."