Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-Men. -pouts while hugging Wolverine
plushie- But I do own Reflection and her mother, so screw you if y'all says
I can't do anything with her. Besides, by the end of the story, it will be
like nothing ever happened. -sticks out tongue-
Rating: To be safe.there will be cursing, and many a tad of lemonness.MWA!
-Kenshin pops up- On with the story! Oro!
Chapter One: Remembering Her
The night air was calming and cool to Logan as he swiftly walked through the forests of the remote area. He alternated from sniffing the air to watching the bats swooping overhead in the twilight, the darkness outdone by the full moon. But he had no time for such distractions.
Sabretooth was near.
He could feel it, smell it, his scent, and that of the other Acolytes. But the feral mutant who was the X-Man's sworn enemy was what had down the man to the forests. He had seen something on the news that morning, like before, but this time it didn't drive him into a frenzy. Not like before.
Flashback
It was only him and Kitty in the kitchen, the slight brunette tapping away at her keyboard as usual. The news was on, a slight murmur that was good enough for Logan as he sipped his coffee. It had been remarkably like the time he had lost control, but hell, that was then, this is.then that morning.
Anyyyyyyyways, he had just finished one cup, and was pouring another when his sharp dark eyes caught the screen. There was the sight of a compound in a wooded area, an army base. It was smoldering, firemen desperately trying to hose the flames down. The reporter was speaking gravely into the mike. The words following even caught the attention of Shadowkat, who paused in her hurried typing.
The words that followed were what caused Wolverine to get up and go that morning.
Thank you, David. Here we are in a secluded military compound-but it isn't exactly one anymore. Earlier this morning, estimated time about 3 o'clock, an eyewitness claims that a girl strolled inside and refused to leave the premises. When shot at after a threat protruded from her lips and knocking unconscious a guard, bullets seemed to bounce of her, and come directly back at the shooters, like she was reflecting them back. After she made sure all was clear, the child motioned for others to come in. From reports, the others were identified as mutants, who have been charged with great offences before. Eventually, they left, but with a critical piece of information from the base. Unfortunately, they must have also hit a self- destruct program, as the base exploded. Whether any mutants were hurt remains a mystery. The girl who entered was supposed to be a brand new mutant, her description is as following: Dark, medium length hair, violet- blue eyes, and a tanned complexion, about seventeen. Note all are dangerous.
Logan started slightly, and glanced at Kitty, who looked worried, "Like, Mr. Logan, your not going out there, right? Remember the last time you, like, went to those woods?" The phasing teen bit her lip. The man chuckled.
"Don't worry, half-pint, I've got everything sorted out in my brain. Besides, I'm an X-Man. Big boy, all grown up. I'll be home when I can." He stalked out of the kitchen, ruffling the girl's hair as he passed.
Logan snapped back to the present, and sniffed the air again. The trail of the Acolytes was growing fainter every minute. He pressed on, the quiet silence digging into his ears. If only Kitty had known, but something HAD triggered in his memory. He couldn't figure it out; he thought he had discovered his whole past.
His nose caught a new scent, as the burly Wolverine halted, and changed directions at a run.
Blood.
It wasn't old, wasn't new, but in between. Someone was injured.
It drew him to a cliffside. Puzzled, he crouched down, peering over the side. His eyes trailed to one of the ledges that jutted out from the rocky side. A body lay on it, he observed, a neat pool of crimson around them.
It was a girl, about 17, with dark brown hair splayed across her face and tan skin, though a little hard to tell in the growing night. One hand dangled carelessly over the edge, the other clutching something at her throat. On her side was a bloody gash torn into a black leather halter-top and leather pants, a pair of cracked sunglasses by her face. A trench coat, Logan noticed, was hanging off on arm, fluttering in the chilly breeze the night supplied.
For a minute it was like his mind exploded, the breaking of a dam. Floods of memories crashed inside his mind at the sight of her young face, the scar on her left wrist, the little locket her hand clutched, her hair, shut eyes.
He grasped the sides of his heads a minute, sorting through everything. Where was the Professor when you needed him! Eventually, after it had calmed down a little, he swiftly dropped down on the ledge. His heat paced a bet faster as he swept her into his strong arms, holding her tight, acutely aware of the blood running through his fingers. With a few quick jumps and a clumsy landing, he was racing into the woods once more.
In a secluded spot, the X-Jet, with its black gleam so invisible in the darkness, sat, a monster of a bird waiting for prey. Logan hurried inside, and gently sat the girl onto a chair, strapping her in, one hand tracing the moon-shaped scar. Then, he was in the pilot's seat, and starting that black bird up.
Halfway to the endless black sky, he leaned down, and spoke into the communicator. Storm was waiting for him, like she'd promised. Her silky voice came through as he turned it on, "Find anything?"
His head buzzed and for a second, the great Wolverine felt dizzy, as he answered softly, "Prepare the infirmary, 'Ro."
"What's happened? What did you find, Logan?" Her voice was worried.
"My daughter. Wolverine out."
Needless to say, the graceful African waiting patiently for the X-Jet to sail in was shocked. She felt her blue eyes widen, and a hand press softly to her mouth. His daughter? But, he had said he had never been involved with another person before!
She leaned back onto her chair, then jumped up, like someone had thrown cold water on her. Prepare the infirmary! She must be hurt. Taking flight on swift legs, she burst through the door, getting a surprised look from Dr. McCoy, Rogue, and Bobby. Both had been injured during a whacked-out danger room session.
"Hank! Get a bed ready. Logan's coming home, and-and he's bringing someone. He says it's his daughter." The words felt rubbery on her tongue, and Rogue did a double take, and Bobby fell out of his bed. The Beast looked a little startled, but nodded, "That mean's we'll have to be extra careful then. Storm, could you wheel that bed over here?"
He could hear her shallow breathing the fairly long trip home. One he had switched to autopilot, and quickly made a makeshift wrap for her side, but it only shortened the blood flow a little. Yet, she was still alive. He proudly turned to look at her, thinking, That's my daughter. She's fighting. Then he would mentally slap himself, thinking, Why the hell did you say that to Storm? What if she really isn't? What if she is? God I need some coffee.
Eventually, the black bird was back safely in the Institute for Gifted Children. Logan moved quickly. Within seconds, the girl was in his able arms once more, and he was moving down the steps like Pietro on coffee.
The hallways seemed more mazelike, and longer then usual as he tried to rush as quietly as possible. The last thing he needed was Kitty phasing in his way to figure out what was the cause of all that noise.
Just like he had asked, the infirmary was set up. Storm was waiting, an unreadable look etched across her face. Dr. McCoy was finishing up rewrapping Bobby's wrist, Rogue napping quietly. Ororo glanced up as the door opened, and stood up suddenly, "Logan! How bad?"
"Bad." That was his answer as he laid her on the examining table, and Hank strode over, adjusting his glasses, "Oh dear. We might need to do surgery. Logan, sit down, Storm, you help."
With a growl, he sat at the far corner of the infirmary, occasionally getting up to pace like a wild animal. Iceman stared at him, Rogue as well, who had woken up. In a timid voice, the goth asked, "Ah, uh, Logan, are y'all alright?"
He gave her one of his 'untamed beast' looks that would send shivers down the normal people who passed him on the sidewalk. Rogue looked at Bobby, who cringed, muttering to himself. It was going to be a long night.
"Logan! Mr. Logan, wake up!" He could feel a cold hand on his shoulder, and snapped to attention from his sleep to see Bobby peering down at him. Apparently Dr. Hank had let him stay in all the hubbub. Rogue was there two, over at one of the beds, where the small crowd was completed by Dr. McCoy and Ororo. There was soft speaking going on, that Logan quickly decided to investigate.
Outside there was the dawn, streams of thin new sunlight gracing the infirmary. Logan took no notice however, only on the girl lying, sleeping on the white-sheeted cot, her dark hair neatly under her head, her side, just visible over the blankets, wrapped in bandages, not seen, but the imprints in the cloth of her top. The sleek leather outfit was gone, replaced with baggy green pajama pants and a loose green T-shirt, found stowed away in a closet.
Exhausted, Storm put a hand on Logan's shoulder, "She'll be waking up soon, we suppose. Hank, tell him about the surgery."
Beast scratched his head, and yawned, "Lessee.there was a large portion of glass in her side, like she broke through a helluva lotta windows, or some came at her at high speeds, as well as numerous cuts and bruises on her body. But her side was the worst, and she'll be stuck in here for about.4 weeks, maybe."
Wolverine nodded, and gazed down onto the tanned face. It wasn't a natural tan, it was from the love of outdoors like the memories portrayed. A little girl, riding a pony, in shorts and a tank top, squealing as the fat beast cantered on, her dark hair a blackish flame. It used to be black, he noted, and was now more of a dark brown. Some things change.
Rogue was silent, just watching her quietly, though it was obvious she was thinking. Bobby not as much as one foot impatiently tapped the floor. Tapping so impatiently, in fact, he easily lost his balance only on one foot really, when a set of blue-violet eyes flew open, and a sleeping girl shot up.
Her face was contorted into pain as she clutched her side, with a sharp, "Ouch!" And turned onto the X-Men, and the fallen Bobby, "Where am I? What happened? Who are you people?"
Rubbing his head, Logan looked at the other seniors, and said, "Uh.well, you're at Xavier's Institute for the Gifted Children. I found you while tracking an 'old friend' you might say, in the forests of Maine. The names Logan, this is Storm, Dr. McCoy, Bobby, and Rogue." His throat tightened. She doesn't remember me, he thought bitterly, but brushed it off.
Rogue broke the silence, "Ta answer yer otha question, y'all were torn up pretty badly. We had ta stitch y'up. Where in God's name didya go to getta slice lahke that?"
She rubbed her forehead, "Shit. I failed." The 17-year-old sat still a minute, cursing herself out. Eventually she spoke again.
"Well, I guess I'm thankful, but this means I am officially caput. My turn to rant now, right?" She fixed them with a look, and Storm nodded, smiling a little, "Go on."
"Well, lessee. My name is Reflection. Well, that's what people call me. That or Jayda Miranda Killgallen. I'm a mutant, and you all are to, if Mags is correct. I'm on his team, the Acolytes. Heard of em? Anyways, I've been training the whole year I've been with him. This was the first mission I wasn't behind the scenes. I guess I shouldn't have been so dumb." She bent her head in shame, "So I was supposed to cause enough of a distraction and get the other guys in. We grabbed a couple disks about research on mutants, then hit a couple bombs. Then, all I knew was I knew I was trapped and jumped through a window. I felt a lot of pain, and the last thing I felt was a killer headache all over and being picked up. "
Bobby stared at her, "Mags as Magneto? Magneto's team? Your on the enemy's side!?" He groaned, having started to think she was kinda cute, in a serious sorta way. She gave him a look, "There is no right or wrong side. Either way you choose, there will always be someone who gets hurt, Bobby, huh?"
Rogue was starting to like this chick.
Logan stepped foreword, "Alright, Miss Killgallen, if you're a mutant, why did Magento want you? Whatcha got up your sleeves?" He raised a questioning eyebrow, though felt like he already knew the answer.
"Somebody hit me if your not afraid of pain."
They were quiet a moment-silence buzzed in the room, when Beast nodded, "Only if your sure, Jayda, but this will hurt me more then it will hurt you."
"Count on it."
The blue creature swung his fist at her. Storm covered her eyes, and Rogue and Bobby winced as his fist met with her stomach.
Or did it? Jayda should have been crying in pain. Beast was tough when he hit you. Instead, it was like he had gotten hit in the stomach. Doubled over, groaning, a swelling bruise. Reflection smiled sympathetically, "Told you. My powers are strange. If someone hits me, they get hit with their own blow somehow when it's directed at me. Same with weapons, or hand held explosives, or robots. But if nobody administrates them, and it's my own fault, it doesn't work. Which is why I'm sitting here spilling my guts to you."
Beast mumbled something about how he'd never hit anybody again.
She smiled with a sweet yet dangerous lust. Bobby's crush was back on track.
***
They left Reflection to rest in the infirmary, Bobby and Rogue heading off to get ready for school. Hank left to tell the Professor what was going on (though he probably already knew) and Storm had pulled Logan into an empty room to talk.
The tall white haired woman perched on a window ledge, "Logan, please be honest. I thought you had regressed all memories buried in you?"
He shook his head, "Seems like it's not. I coulda used Charles last night, it was like a waterfall. But from what I can tell, I used to be with this woman.she was dark haired, lived on a farm, young and smart. I married her.and she had a kid. I called her Jay. So apparently, it's the Jay-DA in the other room. I think my wife was a mutant, too. I remember her doing things with my mind.mental blocks.maybe she was a telepath? Anyways, I never knew that my daughter was a mutant, too, though I had assumed she'd show signs of power. That little scar.I remember it. She got kick by a goat when she was three."
He closed his eyes a moment.
There she was, dragging a billy goat by the horns, the chubby little girl stomping as she turned the loose animal into a paddock, and slammed the gate, bumbling to Logan. Her innocent disposition crumpled as her face wilted into tears, "Daddy, da goat kicked me!" She shoved her left hand into his face, a little half moon ring of blood seeping out.
"Logan!" He snapped out of the memory state, "Wha?"
"Logan," she repeated, softer, indicating towards the door. The Professor was sitting on his wheelchair, staring at him, Hank at his side.
Scratching his head, Logan crossed his arms, "Hey Charles. So Hank explain what's up?"
The telepath nodded, and shut his eyes momentarily, "Yes, but are you sure the girl in the other room is in fact your daughter? Not a look-alike?"
The beastlike Wolverine nodded, and growled out, "Take a look inside my head." The Professor nodded slightly, and prepared for a mind probe. What he found was astonishing.
Logan's head was always jumbled with memories, but the overload was aggravating. The same girl with blackish hair and blue-violet eyes, growing taller and slimmer, more serious in complexion, a woman with those same eyes, but brown haired, almost an exact image of the younger one. The two were laughing and smiling, then there came a dark frown on the face of the older one, tears coming from her eyes as she touched the child's head, who seemed about ten, mouthing, "I'm sorry.." then moving towards Logan.
Xavier started slightly, and fell from the state Logan had obliged him into. Rubbing his temples, the professor stared at Logan, who rubbed his own head, "Remind me not to let you do that again for a while, gives me a headache. Confirmation? From all that I say yes, Chuck."
He nodded, "Jayda Miranda Killgallen is your daughter Logan. But why can't she remember you?"
Wolverine stood there, still a moment, murmuring, "She was ten-ish.she'd remember me, she's only, about 17." He ran his fingers through his hair, and his eyes opened wide, as he clamped a hand over his mouth, "OhmyGod.Holy shit, she did it to me, too."
"Logan?" Storm said, worried, "What's going on?"
His breathing ragged, he gulped, and choked out, "My wife.she took away my memories, that's why I never knew about my daughter till now.She could put a mental block up, or something, bury a memory of someone or something so deep inside you it would be hard to unearth, to hard.she took me away from Jayda's mind and Jayda away from mine."
Storm put a hand on his shoulder, "Logan.?"
He pounded a fist on a table, the wooden legs vibrating violently, "She took my baby away from me!"
Rating: To be safe.there will be cursing, and many a tad of lemonness.MWA!
-Kenshin pops up- On with the story! Oro!
Chapter One: Remembering Her
The night air was calming and cool to Logan as he swiftly walked through the forests of the remote area. He alternated from sniffing the air to watching the bats swooping overhead in the twilight, the darkness outdone by the full moon. But he had no time for such distractions.
Sabretooth was near.
He could feel it, smell it, his scent, and that of the other Acolytes. But the feral mutant who was the X-Man's sworn enemy was what had down the man to the forests. He had seen something on the news that morning, like before, but this time it didn't drive him into a frenzy. Not like before.
Flashback
It was only him and Kitty in the kitchen, the slight brunette tapping away at her keyboard as usual. The news was on, a slight murmur that was good enough for Logan as he sipped his coffee. It had been remarkably like the time he had lost control, but hell, that was then, this is.then that morning.
Anyyyyyyyways, he had just finished one cup, and was pouring another when his sharp dark eyes caught the screen. There was the sight of a compound in a wooded area, an army base. It was smoldering, firemen desperately trying to hose the flames down. The reporter was speaking gravely into the mike. The words following even caught the attention of Shadowkat, who paused in her hurried typing.
The words that followed were what caused Wolverine to get up and go that morning.
Thank you, David. Here we are in a secluded military compound-but it isn't exactly one anymore. Earlier this morning, estimated time about 3 o'clock, an eyewitness claims that a girl strolled inside and refused to leave the premises. When shot at after a threat protruded from her lips and knocking unconscious a guard, bullets seemed to bounce of her, and come directly back at the shooters, like she was reflecting them back. After she made sure all was clear, the child motioned for others to come in. From reports, the others were identified as mutants, who have been charged with great offences before. Eventually, they left, but with a critical piece of information from the base. Unfortunately, they must have also hit a self- destruct program, as the base exploded. Whether any mutants were hurt remains a mystery. The girl who entered was supposed to be a brand new mutant, her description is as following: Dark, medium length hair, violet- blue eyes, and a tanned complexion, about seventeen. Note all are dangerous.
Logan started slightly, and glanced at Kitty, who looked worried, "Like, Mr. Logan, your not going out there, right? Remember the last time you, like, went to those woods?" The phasing teen bit her lip. The man chuckled.
"Don't worry, half-pint, I've got everything sorted out in my brain. Besides, I'm an X-Man. Big boy, all grown up. I'll be home when I can." He stalked out of the kitchen, ruffling the girl's hair as he passed.
Logan snapped back to the present, and sniffed the air again. The trail of the Acolytes was growing fainter every minute. He pressed on, the quiet silence digging into his ears. If only Kitty had known, but something HAD triggered in his memory. He couldn't figure it out; he thought he had discovered his whole past.
His nose caught a new scent, as the burly Wolverine halted, and changed directions at a run.
Blood.
It wasn't old, wasn't new, but in between. Someone was injured.
It drew him to a cliffside. Puzzled, he crouched down, peering over the side. His eyes trailed to one of the ledges that jutted out from the rocky side. A body lay on it, he observed, a neat pool of crimson around them.
It was a girl, about 17, with dark brown hair splayed across her face and tan skin, though a little hard to tell in the growing night. One hand dangled carelessly over the edge, the other clutching something at her throat. On her side was a bloody gash torn into a black leather halter-top and leather pants, a pair of cracked sunglasses by her face. A trench coat, Logan noticed, was hanging off on arm, fluttering in the chilly breeze the night supplied.
For a minute it was like his mind exploded, the breaking of a dam. Floods of memories crashed inside his mind at the sight of her young face, the scar on her left wrist, the little locket her hand clutched, her hair, shut eyes.
He grasped the sides of his heads a minute, sorting through everything. Where was the Professor when you needed him! Eventually, after it had calmed down a little, he swiftly dropped down on the ledge. His heat paced a bet faster as he swept her into his strong arms, holding her tight, acutely aware of the blood running through his fingers. With a few quick jumps and a clumsy landing, he was racing into the woods once more.
In a secluded spot, the X-Jet, with its black gleam so invisible in the darkness, sat, a monster of a bird waiting for prey. Logan hurried inside, and gently sat the girl onto a chair, strapping her in, one hand tracing the moon-shaped scar. Then, he was in the pilot's seat, and starting that black bird up.
Halfway to the endless black sky, he leaned down, and spoke into the communicator. Storm was waiting for him, like she'd promised. Her silky voice came through as he turned it on, "Find anything?"
His head buzzed and for a second, the great Wolverine felt dizzy, as he answered softly, "Prepare the infirmary, 'Ro."
"What's happened? What did you find, Logan?" Her voice was worried.
"My daughter. Wolverine out."
Needless to say, the graceful African waiting patiently for the X-Jet to sail in was shocked. She felt her blue eyes widen, and a hand press softly to her mouth. His daughter? But, he had said he had never been involved with another person before!
She leaned back onto her chair, then jumped up, like someone had thrown cold water on her. Prepare the infirmary! She must be hurt. Taking flight on swift legs, she burst through the door, getting a surprised look from Dr. McCoy, Rogue, and Bobby. Both had been injured during a whacked-out danger room session.
"Hank! Get a bed ready. Logan's coming home, and-and he's bringing someone. He says it's his daughter." The words felt rubbery on her tongue, and Rogue did a double take, and Bobby fell out of his bed. The Beast looked a little startled, but nodded, "That mean's we'll have to be extra careful then. Storm, could you wheel that bed over here?"
He could hear her shallow breathing the fairly long trip home. One he had switched to autopilot, and quickly made a makeshift wrap for her side, but it only shortened the blood flow a little. Yet, she was still alive. He proudly turned to look at her, thinking, That's my daughter. She's fighting. Then he would mentally slap himself, thinking, Why the hell did you say that to Storm? What if she really isn't? What if she is? God I need some coffee.
Eventually, the black bird was back safely in the Institute for Gifted Children. Logan moved quickly. Within seconds, the girl was in his able arms once more, and he was moving down the steps like Pietro on coffee.
The hallways seemed more mazelike, and longer then usual as he tried to rush as quietly as possible. The last thing he needed was Kitty phasing in his way to figure out what was the cause of all that noise.
Just like he had asked, the infirmary was set up. Storm was waiting, an unreadable look etched across her face. Dr. McCoy was finishing up rewrapping Bobby's wrist, Rogue napping quietly. Ororo glanced up as the door opened, and stood up suddenly, "Logan! How bad?"
"Bad." That was his answer as he laid her on the examining table, and Hank strode over, adjusting his glasses, "Oh dear. We might need to do surgery. Logan, sit down, Storm, you help."
With a growl, he sat at the far corner of the infirmary, occasionally getting up to pace like a wild animal. Iceman stared at him, Rogue as well, who had woken up. In a timid voice, the goth asked, "Ah, uh, Logan, are y'all alright?"
He gave her one of his 'untamed beast' looks that would send shivers down the normal people who passed him on the sidewalk. Rogue looked at Bobby, who cringed, muttering to himself. It was going to be a long night.
"Logan! Mr. Logan, wake up!" He could feel a cold hand on his shoulder, and snapped to attention from his sleep to see Bobby peering down at him. Apparently Dr. Hank had let him stay in all the hubbub. Rogue was there two, over at one of the beds, where the small crowd was completed by Dr. McCoy and Ororo. There was soft speaking going on, that Logan quickly decided to investigate.
Outside there was the dawn, streams of thin new sunlight gracing the infirmary. Logan took no notice however, only on the girl lying, sleeping on the white-sheeted cot, her dark hair neatly under her head, her side, just visible over the blankets, wrapped in bandages, not seen, but the imprints in the cloth of her top. The sleek leather outfit was gone, replaced with baggy green pajama pants and a loose green T-shirt, found stowed away in a closet.
Exhausted, Storm put a hand on Logan's shoulder, "She'll be waking up soon, we suppose. Hank, tell him about the surgery."
Beast scratched his head, and yawned, "Lessee.there was a large portion of glass in her side, like she broke through a helluva lotta windows, or some came at her at high speeds, as well as numerous cuts and bruises on her body. But her side was the worst, and she'll be stuck in here for about.4 weeks, maybe."
Wolverine nodded, and gazed down onto the tanned face. It wasn't a natural tan, it was from the love of outdoors like the memories portrayed. A little girl, riding a pony, in shorts and a tank top, squealing as the fat beast cantered on, her dark hair a blackish flame. It used to be black, he noted, and was now more of a dark brown. Some things change.
Rogue was silent, just watching her quietly, though it was obvious she was thinking. Bobby not as much as one foot impatiently tapped the floor. Tapping so impatiently, in fact, he easily lost his balance only on one foot really, when a set of blue-violet eyes flew open, and a sleeping girl shot up.
Her face was contorted into pain as she clutched her side, with a sharp, "Ouch!" And turned onto the X-Men, and the fallen Bobby, "Where am I? What happened? Who are you people?"
Rubbing his head, Logan looked at the other seniors, and said, "Uh.well, you're at Xavier's Institute for the Gifted Children. I found you while tracking an 'old friend' you might say, in the forests of Maine. The names Logan, this is Storm, Dr. McCoy, Bobby, and Rogue." His throat tightened. She doesn't remember me, he thought bitterly, but brushed it off.
Rogue broke the silence, "Ta answer yer otha question, y'all were torn up pretty badly. We had ta stitch y'up. Where in God's name didya go to getta slice lahke that?"
She rubbed her forehead, "Shit. I failed." The 17-year-old sat still a minute, cursing herself out. Eventually she spoke again.
"Well, I guess I'm thankful, but this means I am officially caput. My turn to rant now, right?" She fixed them with a look, and Storm nodded, smiling a little, "Go on."
"Well, lessee. My name is Reflection. Well, that's what people call me. That or Jayda Miranda Killgallen. I'm a mutant, and you all are to, if Mags is correct. I'm on his team, the Acolytes. Heard of em? Anyways, I've been training the whole year I've been with him. This was the first mission I wasn't behind the scenes. I guess I shouldn't have been so dumb." She bent her head in shame, "So I was supposed to cause enough of a distraction and get the other guys in. We grabbed a couple disks about research on mutants, then hit a couple bombs. Then, all I knew was I knew I was trapped and jumped through a window. I felt a lot of pain, and the last thing I felt was a killer headache all over and being picked up. "
Bobby stared at her, "Mags as Magneto? Magneto's team? Your on the enemy's side!?" He groaned, having started to think she was kinda cute, in a serious sorta way. She gave him a look, "There is no right or wrong side. Either way you choose, there will always be someone who gets hurt, Bobby, huh?"
Rogue was starting to like this chick.
Logan stepped foreword, "Alright, Miss Killgallen, if you're a mutant, why did Magento want you? Whatcha got up your sleeves?" He raised a questioning eyebrow, though felt like he already knew the answer.
"Somebody hit me if your not afraid of pain."
They were quiet a moment-silence buzzed in the room, when Beast nodded, "Only if your sure, Jayda, but this will hurt me more then it will hurt you."
"Count on it."
The blue creature swung his fist at her. Storm covered her eyes, and Rogue and Bobby winced as his fist met with her stomach.
Or did it? Jayda should have been crying in pain. Beast was tough when he hit you. Instead, it was like he had gotten hit in the stomach. Doubled over, groaning, a swelling bruise. Reflection smiled sympathetically, "Told you. My powers are strange. If someone hits me, they get hit with their own blow somehow when it's directed at me. Same with weapons, or hand held explosives, or robots. But if nobody administrates them, and it's my own fault, it doesn't work. Which is why I'm sitting here spilling my guts to you."
Beast mumbled something about how he'd never hit anybody again.
She smiled with a sweet yet dangerous lust. Bobby's crush was back on track.
***
They left Reflection to rest in the infirmary, Bobby and Rogue heading off to get ready for school. Hank left to tell the Professor what was going on (though he probably already knew) and Storm had pulled Logan into an empty room to talk.
The tall white haired woman perched on a window ledge, "Logan, please be honest. I thought you had regressed all memories buried in you?"
He shook his head, "Seems like it's not. I coulda used Charles last night, it was like a waterfall. But from what I can tell, I used to be with this woman.she was dark haired, lived on a farm, young and smart. I married her.and she had a kid. I called her Jay. So apparently, it's the Jay-DA in the other room. I think my wife was a mutant, too. I remember her doing things with my mind.mental blocks.maybe she was a telepath? Anyways, I never knew that my daughter was a mutant, too, though I had assumed she'd show signs of power. That little scar.I remember it. She got kick by a goat when she was three."
He closed his eyes a moment.
There she was, dragging a billy goat by the horns, the chubby little girl stomping as she turned the loose animal into a paddock, and slammed the gate, bumbling to Logan. Her innocent disposition crumpled as her face wilted into tears, "Daddy, da goat kicked me!" She shoved her left hand into his face, a little half moon ring of blood seeping out.
"Logan!" He snapped out of the memory state, "Wha?"
"Logan," she repeated, softer, indicating towards the door. The Professor was sitting on his wheelchair, staring at him, Hank at his side.
Scratching his head, Logan crossed his arms, "Hey Charles. So Hank explain what's up?"
The telepath nodded, and shut his eyes momentarily, "Yes, but are you sure the girl in the other room is in fact your daughter? Not a look-alike?"
The beastlike Wolverine nodded, and growled out, "Take a look inside my head." The Professor nodded slightly, and prepared for a mind probe. What he found was astonishing.
Logan's head was always jumbled with memories, but the overload was aggravating. The same girl with blackish hair and blue-violet eyes, growing taller and slimmer, more serious in complexion, a woman with those same eyes, but brown haired, almost an exact image of the younger one. The two were laughing and smiling, then there came a dark frown on the face of the older one, tears coming from her eyes as she touched the child's head, who seemed about ten, mouthing, "I'm sorry.." then moving towards Logan.
Xavier started slightly, and fell from the state Logan had obliged him into. Rubbing his temples, the professor stared at Logan, who rubbed his own head, "Remind me not to let you do that again for a while, gives me a headache. Confirmation? From all that I say yes, Chuck."
He nodded, "Jayda Miranda Killgallen is your daughter Logan. But why can't she remember you?"
Wolverine stood there, still a moment, murmuring, "She was ten-ish.she'd remember me, she's only, about 17." He ran his fingers through his hair, and his eyes opened wide, as he clamped a hand over his mouth, "OhmyGod.Holy shit, she did it to me, too."
"Logan?" Storm said, worried, "What's going on?"
His breathing ragged, he gulped, and choked out, "My wife.she took away my memories, that's why I never knew about my daughter till now.She could put a mental block up, or something, bury a memory of someone or something so deep inside you it would be hard to unearth, to hard.she took me away from Jayda's mind and Jayda away from mine."
Storm put a hand on his shoulder, "Logan.?"
He pounded a fist on a table, the wooden legs vibrating violently, "She took my baby away from me!"