Okay this chapter gives a background about what happened when Kendall actually was told the truth...more to come stay tuned, oh and guess what! THE XMEN ARENT MINE!
****
There was a frosty nip in the cold December air, as a lone figure sat in a little white gazebo looking around the empty grounds of the school. She had a heavy winter jacket on, and her around her neck a yellow plaid scarf hung. The girl brought up a mug of hot chocolate up to her mouth, letting the warm sweet treat slide down her throat and into her stomach, warming her body from the inside out.
"Kendall, is that you?" She looked over her shoulder seeing Logan standing between the doors, raising his eyebrows at her, "What the sam hell're you doin' out here at 6 in the morning?"
Shrugging, she answered in soft but strong voice, "Woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep, and it snowed last night," her voice suddenly was filled with a little more excitement, "I wanted to look at it all before it got ruined." Kendall looked back to the grounds, drawing her knees close to her, "It's so pretty, there's nothing like it, is there?"
Logan shook his head, looking at her, a hint of a grin on his face. This girl, Kendall wasn't like most 17 year olds, no, not his daughter, always at one with nature and that crap, never into teen magazines and shopping malls like the rest of the girls at the mansion, "You're weird, ya know that Kendie?" Looking at her, listening to her words, he sighed as the memory of Kendall's mother flashed through his head
A muffled giggle escaped against her scarf, "Thanks Logan."
He nodded, "Don't stay out here too long, uh, it's um, cold..." Logan turned around, shutting the doors. This parenting crap was still a completely new concept to him; it was an entirely new territory for him. Knowing that this girl, this amazing young lady, was his daughter. It shocked him, still did, even after a year of them both knowing, along with everyone else in the mansion when they found out.
Logan shook his head as he turned a corner heading into the kitchen, recalling the events that happened last year.
He reached for the folded up paper sitting on the table untouched. He grabbed it, leaned against one of the kitchen counters, but his mind was elsewhere, remembering that day...
**
A lone, tall lamp in the corner of the room softly illuminated the den of the mansion. Kendall looked at the two men who had requested her presence, and unknowingly, she accepted. But now, she seemed as if she were beginning to seriously regret it. Logan knew the expression on his face had to have looked confused...almost lost; and she noticed it. And in her eyes, he could almost tell that she knew that look wasn't natural on that rough face of his. Logan's hands were at an eerie rest by his side, and his gaze was concentrated on the gray-carpeted floor, only looking up fleetingly. That expression of uncertainty and apprehension of her face, on his daughter's face, made him look down again.
The Professor's hands were brought up to his face, the palms resting on one another, and the tips of his index fingers slightly touching his chin, "Kendall, take a seat if you would."
Logan looked up at her. She sat down flatly, putting her hands on her lap, and she had her bottom lip between her two front teeth, "What is it?" Kendall asked with a shaky voice, she almost sounded sure of herself, and she looked as if she was trying to convince himself and Chuck that none of this was bothering her. Her father's obstinacy...
The Professor let out a long sigh, and began talking, looking her dead in the eyes. The story came from him so smoothly and calmly, patting Kendall on the knee occasionally.
But her face, the strong front she had been putting on, had now completely vanished. She gulped painfully after the end of each of his sentences, and blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. Her knee bounced up and down, and she shook her head constantly, not wanting to accept the truth, the harsh ruthless truth that had been kept from her all these years.
But Chuck continued talking to her, vowing to Logan before that she had to know, even if she had been at the mansion for only a few days. Finally, he told her earnestly, "You're father is..." He glanced to his side at Logan, whose eyes had suddenly grown huge, "Logan."
**
Logan could almost still hear the gasp that escaped her lips, the gasp of betrayal, and pain; could still picture that expression of shock and distress that swept over face; could still remember the sight of her springing from her seat, and tearing through the halls of the mansion, out the door and into the snow covered land of the mansion. It took her almost two weeks before Kendall would even consider being in the same room with Logan, until Chuck convinced her that Logan hadn't known either. But it took even longer for the two to be able to talk.
And when they finally talked, it turned out to be almost too much for Logan.
He shook his head as he remembered all the questions she asked, how she had grilled him for the answers. But all he could do what shrug in response to each of the queries, not knowing any of the answers.
"Then," she pleaded, "At least tell me what she was like, was she a good person?"
Until she asked that, what her mother was like. That, he knew, he could answer. And he did, he felt as if he had to, since he couldn't answer any of her other questions. Logan told her that she was more than a good person; he described her personality, how she was always so serene, no matter what the situation was. He depicted to Kendall how her mother and her looked so alike, their pallid, silverish hair, their crystal blue eyes that contrasted their toffee colored skin.
And then, Kendall smiled. For the first time since he had seen her, she smiled at the thought of her mother.
Logan shook his head; escaping from the reverie of the past he put himself into. Grabbing the remote, he flipped on the T.V., turning on the news, pulled out a chair from the table, and sat down; absorbing himself in the paper as he did every morning.
****
There was a frosty nip in the cold December air, as a lone figure sat in a little white gazebo looking around the empty grounds of the school. She had a heavy winter jacket on, and her around her neck a yellow plaid scarf hung. The girl brought up a mug of hot chocolate up to her mouth, letting the warm sweet treat slide down her throat and into her stomach, warming her body from the inside out.
"Kendall, is that you?" She looked over her shoulder seeing Logan standing between the doors, raising his eyebrows at her, "What the sam hell're you doin' out here at 6 in the morning?"
Shrugging, she answered in soft but strong voice, "Woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep, and it snowed last night," her voice suddenly was filled with a little more excitement, "I wanted to look at it all before it got ruined." Kendall looked back to the grounds, drawing her knees close to her, "It's so pretty, there's nothing like it, is there?"
Logan shook his head, looking at her, a hint of a grin on his face. This girl, Kendall wasn't like most 17 year olds, no, not his daughter, always at one with nature and that crap, never into teen magazines and shopping malls like the rest of the girls at the mansion, "You're weird, ya know that Kendie?" Looking at her, listening to her words, he sighed as the memory of Kendall's mother flashed through his head
A muffled giggle escaped against her scarf, "Thanks Logan."
He nodded, "Don't stay out here too long, uh, it's um, cold..." Logan turned around, shutting the doors. This parenting crap was still a completely new concept to him; it was an entirely new territory for him. Knowing that this girl, this amazing young lady, was his daughter. It shocked him, still did, even after a year of them both knowing, along with everyone else in the mansion when they found out.
Logan shook his head as he turned a corner heading into the kitchen, recalling the events that happened last year.
He reached for the folded up paper sitting on the table untouched. He grabbed it, leaned against one of the kitchen counters, but his mind was elsewhere, remembering that day...
**
A lone, tall lamp in the corner of the room softly illuminated the den of the mansion. Kendall looked at the two men who had requested her presence, and unknowingly, she accepted. But now, she seemed as if she were beginning to seriously regret it. Logan knew the expression on his face had to have looked confused...almost lost; and she noticed it. And in her eyes, he could almost tell that she knew that look wasn't natural on that rough face of his. Logan's hands were at an eerie rest by his side, and his gaze was concentrated on the gray-carpeted floor, only looking up fleetingly. That expression of uncertainty and apprehension of her face, on his daughter's face, made him look down again.
The Professor's hands were brought up to his face, the palms resting on one another, and the tips of his index fingers slightly touching his chin, "Kendall, take a seat if you would."
Logan looked up at her. She sat down flatly, putting her hands on her lap, and she had her bottom lip between her two front teeth, "What is it?" Kendall asked with a shaky voice, she almost sounded sure of herself, and she looked as if she was trying to convince himself and Chuck that none of this was bothering her. Her father's obstinacy...
The Professor let out a long sigh, and began talking, looking her dead in the eyes. The story came from him so smoothly and calmly, patting Kendall on the knee occasionally.
But her face, the strong front she had been putting on, had now completely vanished. She gulped painfully after the end of each of his sentences, and blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. Her knee bounced up and down, and she shook her head constantly, not wanting to accept the truth, the harsh ruthless truth that had been kept from her all these years.
But Chuck continued talking to her, vowing to Logan before that she had to know, even if she had been at the mansion for only a few days. Finally, he told her earnestly, "You're father is..." He glanced to his side at Logan, whose eyes had suddenly grown huge, "Logan."
**
Logan could almost still hear the gasp that escaped her lips, the gasp of betrayal, and pain; could still picture that expression of shock and distress that swept over face; could still remember the sight of her springing from her seat, and tearing through the halls of the mansion, out the door and into the snow covered land of the mansion. It took her almost two weeks before Kendall would even consider being in the same room with Logan, until Chuck convinced her that Logan hadn't known either. But it took even longer for the two to be able to talk.
And when they finally talked, it turned out to be almost too much for Logan.
He shook his head as he remembered all the questions she asked, how she had grilled him for the answers. But all he could do what shrug in response to each of the queries, not knowing any of the answers.
"Then," she pleaded, "At least tell me what she was like, was she a good person?"
Until she asked that, what her mother was like. That, he knew, he could answer. And he did, he felt as if he had to, since he couldn't answer any of her other questions. Logan told her that she was more than a good person; he described her personality, how she was always so serene, no matter what the situation was. He depicted to Kendall how her mother and her looked so alike, their pallid, silverish hair, their crystal blue eyes that contrasted their toffee colored skin.
And then, Kendall smiled. For the first time since he had seen her, she smiled at the thought of her mother.
Logan shook his head; escaping from the reverie of the past he put himself into. Grabbing the remote, he flipped on the T.V., turning on the news, pulled out a chair from the table, and sat down; absorbing himself in the paper as he did every morning.
