Fate/Claws Out

Normal POV

Shirou dreamed of that night under the pale moon with his adopted father Emiya Kiritsugu.

"You know I once wanted to be a hero of justice," his father said gazing at the moon with a sorrowful look that confused Shirou "you wanted to be one?" he questioned "did you give up?"

Kiritsugu closed his eyes for a second "yeah…it's unfortunate but being a hero is a limited time thing. As you grow older it becomes harder to call yourself one," he explained and Shirou looked down in contemplation until finally he looked up declaring "I'll become one for you! Since you're too old then you can just leave your dream to me!"

Kiritsugu's eyes opened in surprise at that but then he gave a relieved smile with unshed tears shimmering in his eyes "I see…then I am glad Shirou," his eyes closed for one last time and the former Magus Killer breathed his last.

Shirou's vision shattered apart as he saw visions of a very familiar looking Archer.

The nameless Archer appeared in front of group launching arrows at a group of terrorists, again the man was seen launching nameless swords at many innocents, another time the red Archer was seen with a very familiar set of claws coming out of his knuckles while fighting against an army of undead ghoul-like creatures.

Finally, Shirou arrived in a deserted land with great gears chained up in the sky.

Swords and weapons of all kinds laid impaled into the ground.

Then ever so slowly the weapons flew up into the air impaling Shirou's body, and just before his vision went dark, he saw the red Archer kneeling on top the hill of swords "all I wanted…was to save everyone in front of me," he heard.

With a gasp Emiya Shirou awoke "your awake," came the voice of Tohsaka Rin.

Shirou quickly rose up startled "oh seems like your injuries are all healed up," she said amusement evident in her eyes. 

"T-Toshaka?! What are you....why-" he looked down seeing the bandages wrapped around his torso in confusion "ah right I must have passed out and you along with sensei carried me back home," Shirou said looking around to see if Logan was around. 

"Sensei's not here he left after dragging you back here claiming and I quote 'tonight's been too much and I need to go booze myself dead' but he did mention that he would see us back at the school later," she clarified. 

Tohsaka then stood up waving her hand "anyways goodbye Emiya," she said. 

"You know I should have said this earlier but thanks," Shirou spoke up which made Rin pause "wait why are you thanking me?" she questioned looking back at him. 

"Well, you and technically sensei did save me" Shirou explained which for some reason made her irritated "you shouldn't go around thanking your enemy the holy grail war is a fight to the death." 

Shirou raised his hands up in confusion "then why didn't you kill me?"

At this Tohsaka glanced away crossing her arms with a small blush "I-I just felt like it...that's all! Attacking someone in their sleep isn't fair. So it was mostly a blunder on my part I lowered my guard around you perhaps it's because I have some emotional flab." 

"An emotional flab?" Shirou asked with a raised eyebrow "are you saying that your fat or something," that for some reason made Rin give him a very ominous smile "haha you're a very funny boy." 

She then stepped out but not before leaving some parting words "when next we meet it will be as enemies so be prepared," leaving Shirou to blankly stare at where she left. 

-Meanwhile with Logan Before Shirou Woke Up- 

Logan was stuck in another nightmare after drowning himself in his misery. 

 flames crackled licking at the sky like the tongues of starving beasts. Smoke thickened the air, curling around Logan's throat as he watched the scene before him unfold just as it always did.

Jeanne screamed.

The fire roared, consuming her slender frame, golden hair turning to embers, her tattered clothing melting away while her chains rattled as she writhed but she never begged for mercy.

The crowd jeered and cheered in equal measure their faces twisted with hatred, fear, and misplaced righteousness.

 Priests muttered prayers, executioners stood firm, and the french soldiers held their ground.

Logan stood among them breathing heavily fists clenched so tightly his claws threatened to break free. His body ached with the urge to rip them all apart to tear through the cowards limb from limb to silence their self-righteous cries.

"You bastards," he growled his voice trembling with fury "you goddamn bastards…"

Jeanne's blue eyes found his.

Even through the fire even as the agony contorted her face her gaze remained steady and kind.

"Don't," she mouthed over to him from the crowd.

Logan took a step forward nostrils flaring "I could—"

"You mustn't," she smiled through the pain and then, the girl who made him believe in himself again after so many years of isolation was gone swallowed by the inferno reduced to nothing but embers and ashes.

"You lied to me kid....you promised nothing bad would happen this time!" he cried at her grave kneeling.

The dream shifted this time he found himself sitting in a small campfire with the knight he had considered like his own daughter in all but blood. 

Mordred stared at him her green eyes flickering in the firelight. 

Then she spoke "…does it hurt?" Logan blinked, dragging himself from his thoughts "what?"

Mordred gestured toward his hands specifically his knuckles, raw and torn from the constant emergence of his claws. She had watched as the wounds slowly stitched themselves back together, only to reopen again with the next movement when they encountered a group of bandits.

"Whenever they come out… does it hurt, Sir James?" she asked again.

Logan exhaled through his nose a tired smirk tugging at his lips he reached over ruffling her messy blonde hair roughly "every time, kid," he said, voice low but warm "every damn time."

Mordred scowled, swatting at his hand "tch! Don't do that! I ain't a kid, old man!"

Logan just chuckled leaning back against the log, staring into the fire "sure you ain't," he replied as Mordred grumbled under her breath arms crossed but the tension in her shoulders eased.

Again his dream changed. 

Blood pooled on the cobblestone streets.

The gas lamps flickered dimly in the mist casting long shadows against the brick walls of Victorian London. 

The stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating. A man dressed in fine Victorian attire gasped fingers clawing at the steel claws buried deep in his gut. His top hat had fallen to the ground rolling through the blood while his neatly trimmed beard was speckled with red.

Logan leaned in close eyes dark and breath steady "it's over, Jack," the Ripper gurgled blood dribbling from his lips. His hands trembled desperately trying to pull the claws free Logan however only twisted the blades deeper inside of him.

"I told you," he growled voice laced with venom, "that you'd pay for what you did to Maria…"

Jack's body twitched violently once, twice before finally falling still.

Logan exhaled yanking his claws free with a sickening schlick. 

The body collapsed into the river down below where they stood "I hope you can rest a bit easier now that your killer has been brought to justice Maria," he said looking up at the moon with small tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. 

The dream changes for one last time as Logan can be seen talking to a woman with purple hair "I've seen your future James...I see you broken on your knees while the world around you begins to die replaced for the rise of a new era...one of steel and machine," the woman said with tears running down her cheeks while he blankly stared.

You said:

Logan sat up abruptly his breath ragged, chest sweaty rising and falling like a man who had just emerged from drowning. His knuckles throbbed the phantom pain of his claws still fresh in his mind but it was nothing compared to the constant ache in his heart.

The faint light of the early morning was beginning to filter in through the curtains of his room causing his eyes to twitch. The scent of lingering hint of multiple whiskey bottles clung to the air of his room.

He ran a hand down his face momentarily feeling the wild messy beard on his face.

"Dammit," he muttered rubbing his temples the memories no rather he should say the ghosts never left him alone.

Morgan, Herakles, Jeanne, Giles (whom he personally had to put down), Leonidas, Robin Hood, Mordred, Maria, and so many more...the faces of the dead haunted him, their voices coming back to always haunt him in his sleep.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed the wooden floor cool against his bare feet. Logan reached for the bottle on the nightstand only to realize it was empty. With a grunt he tossed it aside and grabbed his work clothes heading towards the shower there was no point in trying to sleep again.

-end of chapter twelve- 

Sorry for not updating Monday honestly wasn't feeling inspired that day but here it is now.

You maybe wondering at how EMIYA in Shirou's flash back could possibly use Logan's claws. 

I'll give you a hint whenever he invokes "my body is made of swords," everything under his body really does turn into blades....and Logan's claws technically fall under the category of blades. 

He doesn't even need to worry about healing since his body parts will be stitched back together by his swords.