[Third Person Pov]
Peter and the others took the time to quickly fill Gwen in on everything that had been going on and the details of the discussion they had been having before she was called over. Once they finished, Peter glanced at her as he was sitting down next to Logan, leaning casually against the gruff mutant's side. "You caught up now?"
"Yeah, I get it. That's why you called me over," Gwen replied, nodding in understanding as her eyes lit up with focus. "With my abilities, I should be able to slow down his regeneration to the point where we can operate on him safely and extract the bullet from his eye socket. The procedure should be simple enough if we do it right."
Gwen placed a steady hand over Logan's broad shoulders, though her own breathing was noticeably heavy with a mix of adrenaline and excitement. "Don't worry, Mr. Howlett. You're in safe and capable hands."
"I'm not kidding. Get her the fuck away from me," Logan snarled, turning to glare directly at Gwen as a low, warning growl rumbled deep in his chest. His entire body tensed like a coiled spring ready to snap.
"Have you ever performed a surgery on anyone before?" Charles asked curiously, his calm voice carrying a note of perplexity at the young woman's visible enthusiasm.
"No, this is going to be my first time doing a surgery in person," Gwen said with a beaming smile that was only partially hidden beneath her mask. She gave Logan's shoulder a gentle pat, faintly giggling under her breath. "You're a very lucky man, Mr. Howlett."
"I'm out," Logan declared flatly with a completely deadpan expression as he pushed himself up from his seat.
Only for Gwen to quickly press a hand against his chest and firmly push him back down into the chair. "Don't you worry about a thing, Mr. Howlett. You're in safe and capable hands," she repeated sweetly, her tone unwavering.
"She's had tons of practice, and who better for her first time than an immortal man who can't really die?" Peter said, vouching for Gwen with a supportive nod. However, his face instantly soured as he realized how the words had come out. "Her first time performing a surgery, I mean. God, I hate how I worded that."
Gwen started to giggle softly as she heard Peter grumbling and grimacing at his own awkward phrasing, the sound light and almost playful in the tense room.
"At the end of the day, it all really depends on what Logan wants to do and whether he's on board with the operation," Charles said diplomatically, turning his gaze toward the Wolverine and waiting patiently for his verdict.
Everyone's attention shifted fully onto Logan. He stared at Gwen, who was nodding her head slyly and encouragingly, her eyes sparkling with confidence as she tried to will him into agreement.
"Rogers," Logan said, shifting his gaze over to Steve with a grunt. "What do you think?"
Steve blinked for a moment, visibly surprised by being put on the spot. He offered a wary but sincere smile. "I don't think it's really my place to say anything, but maybe it would help if she gives us a step-by-step breakdown of what she plans on doing and how the operation would go."
Logan gave a short nod, the gesture clear enough to serve as his reluctant agreement. "Well, lady, you heard the Captain."
"Well, usually for a complicated surgery such as this one, you would start with…" Gwen proceeded to go through a thorough, step-by-step detailed explanation of the entire procedure. She used her hands expressively and even gestured lightly toward Logan's face to demonstrate key points, her voice steady and professional as she outlined every incision, every precaution, and every expected reaction from his healing factor.
What truly sold the group, however, wasn't just the explanation itself—anyone could memorize steps after all. It was her unmistakable confidence and deep familiarity with the subject, the way she spoke with the ease of someone who had studied every angle extensively.
"Are you certain you've never performed a surgery on someone?" Scott asked, his brows lifting noticeably above the edge of his glasses in genuine surprise.
"I've had plenty of practice in a virtual setting," Gwen explained calmly. "It's kinda like your Danger Room in a sense—realistic simulations that let you run through every possible scenario without any actual risk."
Logan, hearing this, looked slightly more relieved that she wasn't going in completely blind with zero real-world-adjacent experience. He groaned suddenly as another sharp throb pulsed through his injured head. "Ughh… Fine," he growled, the sound low and begrudging. "I'll agree, but on one condition: someone from our side supervises the whole thing. I don't trust you, lady. You're way too giddy for my liking."
"Really?!" Gwen squealed in pure excitement, her voice pitching up as she spun back toward the group, her bone claws instinctively popping out with a sharp *snikt* and glinting under the lights.
Logan stared hard at the gleaming bone claws, his expression darkening. "I'm going to regret this…" he grumbled under his breath. He then shot Gwen a weird, suspicious look and asked, "Also, lady, you sure you ain't my kid or somethin'? What's with the metal bone claws?"
"No, you won't regret a thing—trust me!" Gwen replied with a beaming grin, she then scoffed quickly retracting the claws back into her forearms with a smooth metallic whisper. "And no, I'm not your kid. The metal's from the suit, not my actual skeleton."
"She might not be your child, but I might," Peter chimed in with a mischievous grin. He popped out his own set of bone claws with a dramatic *snikt*, then immediately latched onto Logan's arm in a clingy hug, sniffling theatrically. "So, do I call you Daddy or Papa?"
Peter's mask lenses started opening and closing frantically, mimicking the effect of batting his eyelashes in exaggerated adoration.
…
Outside on the grounds of Xavier's School, the other X-Men and several students were enjoying a lively game of basketball. The ball bounced rhythmically as players dribbled it between their legs, passed sharply, and launched shots toward the hoop under the afternoon sun.
"Ahhhhhh!!"
*Shatter!*
The loud crash of breaking glass and the accompanying scream made everyone freeze mid-play. Heads whipped around just in time to see Spider-Man hurtling through the air after being thrown out of the first story window. He twisted gracefully mid-fall, landed with a practiced roll, and sprang straight back to his feet.
"You can't run away from responsibilities as a parent!!" Peter shouted up at the window, shaking his fist dramatically. "Let's not forget about child support!"
Logan leaned out of the shattered window frame, his face twisted in irritation. "This is what I think of your child support!!" he roared, thrusting out his middle bone claw in a crude gesture. "Touch me like that again and I'll give you all three of these, got it, bub?!"
"I hope you realize that your anger issues are why Mom has custody!" Peter yelled back, still shaking his fist defiantly.
"Logan, we're the ones who are going to have to pay to fix that window. I hope you know that," Charles said, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
Peter perched on the windowsill and leapt back inside with effortless agility. "Don't worry, Professor—I'll pay for it," he assured him brightly.
"As for your condition, it's better if one of the psychics is present," Peter continued, suddenly turning serious as he dusted glass fragments off his suit. "Once the tissue relating to your memory regrows, years of suppressed memories are going to come rushing back. You're going to need help sorting them out."
Logan grumbled deeply but eventually gave a reluctant nod. He was still scowling fiercely in Peter's direction and letting out occasional warning huffs.
"Well, now that we're all in agreement, I'll start getting the Danger Room ready for the operation," Charles announced. Scott immediately stepped forward, offering to help set everything up.
"I'll get my equipment. I'll be right back," Gwen said cheerfully. She hopped through a shimmering portal that opened beside her and disappeared back toward the base.
…
Steve and most of the other X-Men stood gathered on the elevated viewing platform of the Danger Room, watching the delicate operation unfold in tense silence. No one spoke a word or made a sound, even though the reinforced glass ensured they couldn't be heard from below.
Down on the operating table, Logan lay perfectly still, dressed in a plain hospital gown that looked comically large on his small, compact, muscular frame. The harsh lights overhead cast sharp shadows across the scene.
Peter carefully placed the oxygen mask over Logan's face as the knockout gas began to take effect. "Now this is the part where I tell you to start counting down from ten…"
As Logan's eyes grew heavy and the world started to blur and darken around him, the last thing he heard was Peter's mischievous voice. Which was the last thing one wanted to hear before a major surgery.
"You guys know what would be a funny prank? If while he was out cold we did a sex change operation on him. What do you think, should we do it?"
"No… wait… don't… Jean… don't let him… I… change… my…" Logan breathed out weakly, his voice slurring as he fought against the powerful anesthesia. His metal-laced fists twitched once before he finally lost the battle and slipped completely under.
Jean, who had been chosen as the supervising psychic for the procedure, started to chuckle softly. "You're just evil. There was no need to scare him like that."
Gwen chuckled along with her as she placed a steady hand over Logan's chest. A soft wave of glowing energy pulsed outward from her palm, spreading through his entire body and forcing his legendary regeneration to slow to an unnatural crawl. The temperature in the sterile room plummeted noticeably as she officially began the operation.
With focused precision, Gwen created a surgical knife out of shimmering ice using her abilities and carefully cut open his eyelid. She paused for a few seconds, watching closely. The wound remained open without closing, and thankfully, it didn't start bleeding excessively either.
She worked methodically, opening up the area around his eye enough for them to safely access and visualize the deeper structures leading toward his brain.
"Ughh…" Jean groaned, turning slightly squeamish at the graphic sight despite her experience with battlefield injuries.
Once she was done with the initial incision, Gwen set the icy knife aside and held out her hand. Peter promptly placed a pair of fine medical tweezers into her palm.
She paused again when Peter suddenly leaned in with a paper towel, dabbing gently at her temple and forehead. Gwen stared at him with a straight, unamused face, her expression hidden behind her spider mask.
"Sorry…" he replied meekly, barely suppressing a grin as he tried not to laugh.
She shook her head in fond exasperation and returned her full attention to her patient.
Jean suddenly glanced over at Gwen, her brow furrowing in confusion as she sensed the faint psychic feedback of squiggly lines dancing above the young woman's head—clearly tied to her spider-sense. "What exactly am I sensing from her?" Jean whispered to Peter, careful not to disturb the concentration in the room.
"It's our warning system," Peter explained quietly, his voice filled with pride as he watched Gwen work. "She uses her spider-sense like a form of clairvoyance to pinpoint exactly where the bullet is located inside his brain."
Gwen had the tweezers delicately wedged between the sensitive folds of Logan's brain. She moved them with the faintest, precise taps, listening intently until she heard the telltale faint metallic *tink… tink… tink…*
Once she located the bullet, her hands remained rock-steady, showing no twitch or shake as she worked with expert care. With painstaking precision, she gripped the long silver bullet and slowly extracted it from between the delicate folds of brain tissue, carefully drawing it out through the opened eyelid.
When it finally emerged, she held the bullet up triumphantly toward the viewing platform so the spectators could see it clearly.
Everyone visibly deflated with relief. Audible sighs filled the observation room as the group broke into spontaneous applause for a job well done. Even Steve, who had been standing with rigid tension, broke into a broad grin as his shoulders finally dropped.
Peter quickly held up a small sterile tray. Gwen deposited the extracted silver bullet onto it with a soft clink.
The operation was a complete success.
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