And here's the final chapter for this story.

The Past Comes Home chapter five: Familiar Faces

Chicago. The Windy City. Bright lights streamed from every corner of the vast landscape of metal and glass. Five years in this city, she knew it like the back of her white furred hand. Shortly after moving to the Windy City, the young woman, Illya Polav, had taken the job as a private investigator working with a major law firm. She had created a wonderful life for herself that included her great job where she used her special gifts to easily track her targets, a nice apartment, and enough income to be happily pleased and not wanting for much in life.

This night, as she sat perched on an old building on the rundown side of Chicago, she thought briefly of her past, pushing all the pain behind her. This had become her nightly routine since her second year here. She had started her late night vigilante adventure when she had spotted an older lady being jumped and beaten for her purse. She had reacted too late, and was not able to stop the men, and unfortunately, the lady had not made it.

From that moment on, Illya realized she could not protect everyone as a private investigator. But as the cat-like mutant White Saber- the nickname she had given herself in childhood- she could watch out for the rest of the city. Soon after this new chapter in her life started, she had found out she could control winter weather patterns. She would use that talent on occasion, but mainly she relied on her enhanced senses.

What had drawn her to this Godforsaken area had been rumors of a gang fight large enough to involve half of the city. She had come in hopes of a chance of stopping this before it all started. She watched as several burly men jumped out of a large black van. They headed into one of the rundown buildings. She followed, choosing a high window to watch from. 'Love the sense of balance that comes with being a cat,' she thought happily, but continued her surveying. She could hear muffled speech patterns. She moved to press her delicate cat-like ear against the glass. The voices stopped. A shot went off.

All she felt before she landed half on her side, half on her feet was a sharp searing pain in her right shoulder. Pulling her hand away, she saw the scarlet blood staining her white skin. She waned to cry out in pain, but wouldn't, knowing that would draw unwanted attention. But then she heard the heavy boot steps coming fast behind her. She would have to run, but the throbbing pain caused her to move slower. The foot steps were accompanied now by voices, angry ones. The pain was causing her vision to blur bad enough that she didn't realized she had turned down a closed alley. The brick wall was the only thing that stopped her. She huddled against the wall, crying. Her injured shoulder throbbed and the bleeding had not stopped.

The booted steps stopped suddenly. She was afraid to open her eyes. Then a new sound came. The sound of bodies connecting with pavement. Were they fighting amongst themselves over who would get the prize? Her? She was still too scared to open her eyes. She could hear moans and groans, probably from the men following her. But there was a new voice. It sounded harsh and angry. And it was screaming in a language she didn't know, it was neither American or her own native Russian, but it sounded familiar. All at once the voice and sounds of fighting halted.

"Hello, White Saber," the strange voice announced. "I told you I wouldn't forget once I saw you." She looked up and saw the raspberry colored hand outstretched before her. It was Sean. What was he doing here? She reached as to take his hand, but pulled back when pain rippled through her body. "Easy now, carid. You're going to be fine. We'll just get you home now." Gently he lifted her into his arms as if she were a new born kitten. Her head rested against his chest and soon she was sleeping.

When next she opened her eyes, Illya found herself laying on a soft bed, bit it wasn't a normal one. Going to get up, she felt something heavy on her shoulder. She moaned at the weight.

"Easy. I know the bandages are heavy, but that was a nasty wound." the voice said softly.

"I told you. You should have taken her to the hospital, Hunter." a new voice spoke.

"You've done your part, Clay. Thank you." Sean didn't even look at his guest in the shadows. "You know your way out." And then the stranger left.

"Hunter?" she questioned when the door was slammed unlike your own, White Saber." He laughed then became serious. "What were you doing in that area? And dressed like you are?"

"It's a costume," she said referring to the white cloak and garb she always wore. "As to why, that's what I do every night."

"Get shot in the shoulder?" he teased.

"No. I follow criminals, and catch them. I'd heard there was a possibly gang fight going to go down there tonight," she confessed as he helped her to a sitting position. "And yourself, why were you there?"

"Much the same as you, really. Little different." She gave an inquiring glance, so he went on. "I heard a large drug lord was going to be showing up to trade goods."

"So which story is true?" she asked standing, his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Don't know. Didn't have a chance to find out. I saw you running, possibly hurt-I'd heard the shot- and decided to follow."

"Good thing you did," she said sweetly, her accent ringing. "Did I thank you, by the way?"

"No need, carid. You being fine is thanks enough."

"Who was that?" she asked out of nowhere.

"An acquaintance. He's sort of a doctor. Don't worry, he owed me one."

"Why didn't you take me to the hospital, and how do you know me?"she asked confused now that her mind wasn't foggy.

"First off, I know how the people in this city reacts to those who are different. I didn't want you going through that. Two, I have several contacts in this city," he answered.

"It wouldn't have bothered me," she said in regards to the first. "I deal with it every day."

He sighed, still glad of his decision. At the hospital they wouldn't have been able to talk like this. "It's been a long time, Illya."

"Eight years. You've been doing well?"

"Yes, you?"he replied.

"Fine. Moved here five years ago." She smiled, she had thought about him much since the night on the ship crossing the Atlantic. "What do we do now? Let them run?" she asked after a moment.

"If your shoulder wasn't hurt, I'd say let's go after them." he answered looking over her shoulder.

"Then let's go," she said moving from his touch. She could stand fine now.

"You're hurt, and even it you weren't, how could you find them?" he pointed out.

"Have you forgotten one very obvious thing," she laughed placing a lone finger on his thick chest. "I'm a cat, and therefore have cat like senses."

"And therefore," he said holding the hand on his chest, "you can track them."

"We can," she said slyly. "Together." He smiled at that.

From that moment on they had worked together, catching bad guy after bad guy. Traveling all over the nation for three years. Now Illya sat staring at the sapphire bracelet he had given her for her twenty-ninth birthday. A little more than eleven years since they had first met. She was thinking about all they had been through when the door bell rang.

"I'll get it," she said walking to the door. She gasped when the door was fully open.

"Hello, Illya," the man said.

"Mikail?! How?" She couldn't get anything out.

"Yes. I'd like you to meet my wife." Mikail announced. Illya was not prepared for this when the man she had known as a child years ago stepped back and revealed...

"Mother?!"

The end? (Evil, yes. Bravo Puma)