Logan was aware on some level that it was Jean outside his door. He had her scent memorized and would be able to track her down with his eyes quite literally closed. However, he was so upset by his nightmare that he didn't register that he should open the door until she knocked on his door. Normally, he would have opened the door before she had a need to knock or simply yelled that the door was open, which it normally was. Nobody dared trespass into Wolverine's room unannounced, and it was probably well that they didn't, for their own health.
Clad in nothing but a pair of sweat shorts that were the closest thing he had to pajamas, he was crouched by the side of his bed picking up pieces of plaster, wood, mattress, and the remains of his alarm clock and bedside table lamp. Or rather the shorts were his version of a robe, since he didn't really wear anything to bed. He had been thrashing amid his troubled sleep and, when the scentless man made of shadows pulled a weapon on him in the dream, the claws had come out in the real world. Logan was angry, more so than was usual. He really wasn't very good at facing opponents he couldn't claw into submission, such as visions and dreams.
He actually blinked at the door for a moment before once again his brain helpfully offered that he should probably answer, so he dropped the stuff he had picked up into his bin and padded over to the door. Thankfully he had thought to put his shorts on before cleaning up after himself, because he was so distracted he didn't even bother with a tank top and jeans, as he usually would have when answering the door to a lady. At least his claws weren't on display, or he might have given poor Jean a heart attack.
Logan yanked the door open and blinked less than brilliantly at Jean.
"Hey. You all right?" he said, his voice rough with sleep and growling at nightmares. His feral brain was in charge of most of the proceedings at this point, but he didn't mind the visit. If anything, Jean's scent helped calm him down some. He then remembered to take a step back to invite her inside. "Sorry 'bout the mess. Bad dreams and claws ain't a good mix," he mumbled apologetically, gesturing Jean inside.