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Emma stood in front of him, sunlight catching in her hair. Leo realized he'd been staring.
Her cheeks pinked; she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "What are you thinking about?"
"Logan's gone," Leo said, voice rawer than he meant.
"Gone where?" Emma asked, frowning.
"Not run. Vanished. Just—" He gave a crooked laugh and told her everything: the shot, the fall, the empty ground where a body should've been.
Emma listened, brow furrowed. When he finished, the tight line of her mouth softened. "Then he's probably not dead."
Leo straightened. "What?"
"When Stryker had me in the lab, I brushed his mind once," she said quietly. "Didn't seize control, my powers were a wreck, but I saw… pieces. Those special bullets? They're meant to scramble Logan's brain erase, not end. They'll wipe memory, not life."
A breath Leo didn't realize he'd been holding went out of him. The floor felt steady again.
"So he walked out." A grin, small and disbelieving, tugged at his mouth. He looked back at Emma, really looked, and the grin became something else. Sunlight threw a halo across her, glinting as if facets briefly skated over her skin.
"Emma," he said, dazed and honest, "you're beautiful."
She snorted an irrepressible, delighted sound and her eyes rippled like light over water. "Come on, charmer."
"Let's go," Leo said.
"Where?"
"Home."
The word made her flinch. "Home is where there's… someone," she murmured, Kayla's empty space suddenly huge.
Leo's smile dimmed. He thought of a beat-up truck, a warm kitchen, and two people who'd found a stray and decided he was theirs. "Then I'll take you to mine."
He caught her hand.
—
A small town, late afternoon. The kitchen smelled like roasted meat and spice.
"Paul, why aren't they back yet?" Lynn called, setting down a platter big enough to feed a teamster crew.
"They will be, love," Paul said, smiling like husbands do when they're saving their worry for later.
He was rising when the knock came.
He opened the door and got a bear hug for his trouble. "Uncle Paul! I'm home!"
"Leo!" Lynn skidded in from the kitchen, apron askew. "And I knew I smelled a hollow leg."
"Ma'am, I can confirm," Leo said solemnly, sniffing the air with theatrical reverence. "It's definitely roast."
"Get in here." Paul stepped aside, grinning. "Before Lynn feeds your dinner to the neighbor's dog out of spite."
"Uh—Paul, Aunt Lynn Logan headed back to his hometown," Leo said smoothly as they crossed inside. "Told me to thank you for everything."
"He left?" Lynn said, hurt threading her voice. "Not even a goodbye?"
"He was in a rush." Leo brightened a little. "But! We brought a guest."
He reached back and coaxed their shadow out of the doorway.
"Emma," he said. "This is Paul and Lynn. Paul, Aunt Lynn Emma Frost."
"Guest and you didn't lead with that?" Lynn swatted Leo with a dishtowel, then took Emma's hands. "You poor thing, come sit. Eat. Pretend you like my cooking even if you don't."
Paul lingered by the door just long enough to give Leo a silent thumbs-up and an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. Leo blinked, then groaned.
"We're just friends," he stage-whispered.
Paul's grin said sure, kid and good luck with that in equal measure.
Dinner was loud and easy. Warmth pooled in the corners of the room, the kind that made the worst days bearable.
When the plates were cleared, Lynn set up the guest room for Emma and dropped a folded quilt on the living room couch.
"Don't you dare steal her bed," she told Leo, and vanished down the hall.
Leo sank onto the sofa, the day finally catching him. He was reaching inward toward the interface only he could see when the bedroom door opened and Emma padded out.
"Hey," he said, sitting up. "Everything okay?"
"Thank you," she said simply.
"For?"
"For this." She gestured kitchen, couch, closed door, the whole small universe of it. "For letting me feel what a house feels like again."
Leo's throat tightened. "When Paul and Lynn found me, I—"
He didn't get to the rest. Emma stepped in, rose on her toes, and pressed her mouth to his.
It wasn't dramatic; it was human. Warm. Real. The kind of kiss that didn't ask for a future it hadn't earned yet.
When she pulled back, her cheeks were the color of new dawn.
"Don't read into it," she murmured, flustered. "Just… thanks."
She turned away. As she walked, the faintest shimmer of diamond traced her shoulders, a blush in facets.
"Huh," Leo said to the empty room, thumb grazing his lower lip. "Pretty sure I just got… politely mugged."
He laughed under his breath and, finally, opened the interface. The counters ticked where he'd left them: mission cleared, points banked, one spin waiting.
He set the wheel humming.
"Stop," he said, when it felt right.
The world paused for a heartbeat.
[SYSTEM: Congratulations, Host has acquired Telekinesis.]
The word rang through him, settling into place like a new muscle waiting to be flexed.
He glanced down the hall, toward the closed door. Tomorrow, we could worry about tomorrow, Logan's trail, Stryker's schemes, Deadpool's shadow.
Tonight, there was a roof over their heads and the smell of Lynn's roast still in the air.
Leo leaned back on the couch and let himself breathe.
"Finally a break!"
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