Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from X-Men or the Marvel Universe. Stan Lee does. I only own Annica Sawyer.
Lonesome Days
By Leah Pensotti
Chapter Six: Ghosts
Annica awoke the next morning with the book on her chest and a loud knock coming from the door. She rolled out of bed and placed the book on her bedside and answered the door. Logan stood before her clad in jeans and a white t-shirt. Annica could just barely make out the silver of some sort of chain hidden around his neck.
"Hey. What's up?" Annica rubbed her eyes and opened the door to let him in.
"I thought you wanted to tell me your ideas for making contact with your supervisor."
She yawned and nodded, "Yeah. What time is it?"
"It's around seven. You wanna tell me or not?" Annica knew that he was losing his patience and sat back down on her bed and began to explain.
"Well, I have thirty-three dollars in my purse. There are cell phones that you can buy with prepaid minutes, they are hard to trace, even though it can be done if the bad guys are persistent enough. The bad news is that they usually cost around fifty dollars. Not including the minutes. I think that is my best bet. I can buy one and leave it somewhere other than the school. Maybe bury it. I'd use it in a different place every time and not for very long..."
Logan waved his hand at her, "There's really no need for that. We've got something better."
Annica looked puzzled, "What?"
"A secure line."
"How secure?"
Logan shook his head, "Look, you have nothing to worry about. This place being what it is, we can't take chances that anybody's gonna find out what type of school this is. Xavier took precautions. The phone line is secured and scrambled."
"You mean like FBI secure, don't you?" Annica knew that her eyes were wide and he nodded.
"Something like that."
"Wow."
Logan waved her on as he made his way out the door of her room, "Come on. Let's make that call."
Annica followed him down the hall and downstairs in her bare feet, it was early and the school had yet to begin bustling. He lead her to the office where they had spoken with Storm. He lifted the phone on the desk and Annica took it from him. She dialed the number of Detective Chambers desk at the station and waited eagerly as he picked up the phone.
"Homicide." Chambers greeted her with a grumble.
"It's me sir, Annica Sawyer."
"Sawyer? Where in the hell are you? Are you on a secure line? What kinda idiot stunt did you pull the other night? You disobeyed a direct orderཀ"
His voice was bordering on a scream and Annica sighed and apologized, "I'm sorry, sir. Whoever is after me, they won't stop. They killed Marcus. Then Matthews and Gillespie. They don't care who they kill. Even the informant said that the other night. He said that they killed his wife and son and that he shouldn't have come because they will have our numbers. And he was right. Just know that I left to protect you...I plan on helping however I can. Now tell me, what have you learned so far? Anything from the interrogation?"
"I hate to bring this up, kid, but in the talk that we had with the guy from outside the bar...he mentioned the informant, Jonas Ivaneski, had been working with a drug ring and things went sour. The guy who is running the show...seems to be Mandrini."
Annica's heart dropped and she could feel the heat rise to her face. She wanted to scream, but instead she whispered a little weakly.
"Jesse?"
Detective Chambers sighed, "I'm sorry, Sawyer. I know you're having a rough time. We're not a hundred percent, but he was released last year. It is very possible. You just stay where your at and keep safe. Call me every few days to check up. I will tell you when we need you."
"I'll call you on Sunday." Annica hung up the phone and felt her lower lip tremble.
It was even worse than she could ever imagine.
Logan saw the tremor of sadness run through her face. The news had been bad.
"What is it, Annica? What did he say?"
She looked up at him and her blue-green eyes burned with a mixture of sadness and rage. Annica cleared her throat and began, "They interrogated they guy with the broken jaw. Our informant was evidently working for a drug ring."
"Who is Jesse?"
She bit her lower lip and continued, "In college, I met a guy. We dated for two years. He asked me to marry him and I said yes. His name is Jesse Mandrini...I had the dress, the church, the rings, and the invitations had already gone out. Two weeks before the wedding, my own father busted him with twenty others in one of the largest drug raids in the state. I had to sit in court and watch my father testify against my fiancee. Evidently, he had gotten mixed up with an international cartel. Jesse plea bargained and was in jail for five years. I thought I knew everything about him. I was twenty-two at the time. I decided to go through with the police academy after graduation, you see, Jesse thought it was too dangerous for me to be a cop. But now I know the real reason. My dad got killed a year later in a raid with the same cartel...the same cartel that our informant worked for..."
Logan watched as her eyes glassed over with tears, but she did not allow them to fall. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I take it Jesse is running the show now."
"So it seems. He must've made amends and moved his way up, somehow."
"Come on, let's go to the kitchen. We'll get some breakfast and talk some more."
Annica sipped her second cup of coffee and ate a bowl of hot oatmeal. While the food was great, her nerves twisted and turned. She thought that she had loved Jesse. He was sweet and attentive and wanted to take care of her.
But she could've never been another bored Jersey housewife–or the wife of a drug runner.
Logan pulled up a chair beside her at the table and there was a long silence between them. She waited for him to say something, though he never did. She took another sip of coffee and smiled.
"I should've made the connection. How can I be a good detective and be so naive?" Annica felt her eyebrows knit together and she looked into her bowl of oatmeal.
Logan sighed, "I think you need to get out for a little while..."
Before he could finish his statement, Storm walked in with an indiscernible look on he face; a mix of urgency and calm that Annica had never seen before. She was followed by Warren and Annica sat up a little straighter.
Storm walked over to Logan's side crossed her arms and smiled, "Good morning, Logan." She looked over to Annica and asked coolly, "I'm glad to see you up and about, Detective."
Annica didn't feel like asserting that they call her by her first name, so she just nodded, "Everyone has been wonderful. I truly appreciate it."
Storm turned her attention back to Logan, "I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I believe that I have something that you should hear. May I speak with you in my office?"
Logan looked from Storm to Annica and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'll be back." As he stood up from his chair, Annica heard him speak, "Hey, Warren. I think Annica could use some company. Do you mind? A little fresh air might do her good."
"Sure." Warren nodded as Logan turned to follow Storm out of the kitchen and back towards the office. Annica sat at the table alone in silence, not grasping the words that she wished to say.
Luckily, Annica didn't have to say anything.
"So, would you like to take a walk?" Warren asked in a hushed tone.
She stood up slowly with her dishes in hand and nodded, "Yeah, is it okay if I change real quick? I can meet you in the hall in five minutes."
Warren nodded in return and Annica went to the sink and rinsed out her dishes and placed them in the dish washer. As she turned on her heel, she met his eyes and realized that she could think of absolutely nothing to say. Thoughts of Jesse roamed through her head and she loathed the idea that the whole disastrous, elaborate mess had been his idea to shake her to her core. Because, if that was the case, then it had worked.
She sprinted up the stairs to her room and changed into a snug, black t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. Annica ran a few strokes of her brush through her messy hair and grabbed her denim jacket on the way out. As she made her way back down the stairs, she caught sight of Warren waiting for her in the foyer. His back was turned, and his winged silhouette made her want to stop in her tracks; but she kept going.
Annica hit the bottom of the stairs and slipped on her jacket with a delicate smile, "I'm ready."
Warren turned around and Annica saw that he was wearing jeans and a blue shirt. So many questions ran through her head...like how does he put on shirts? Are they specially tailored? How does he sleep?
Of course, she would never add a voice to her questions...they would remain safely in her head. Annica already felt unnerved by the news earlier in the morning and every time she found herself around Warren, she could never find the proper things to say.
Warren held the front door open for her and they headed down the stairs of the mansion. The day had turned bright, clear and warm with a healthy breeze. Annica shoved her right hand in her jacket pocket and looked out over the grounds.
"So what happened this morning?" Warren asked, his voice even and void of any visible emotion.
Annica chose her words very carefully, she did not want the floodgates to open and scare him away with just how deep she really was in dangerous waters. Annica was lonely enough at the school. Only Logan, Marie and Warren really cared to talk to her.
"I got some news about the case I was working on when I got shot...it's taken a personal turn."
Warren shook his head, "I'm sorry."
"Well, that's my luck, I'm afraid." Annica shrugged as they entered the gardens. She then quickly turned the conversation away from herself, "What about you? Tell me how you came to be here."
Warren thought the question over carefully. He had only been at the school for a few months. Only since the skirmish at Alcatraz and his father's ambitious search for a cure.
An ambition prompted by his only son's very apparent mutation.
He knew what she was thinking. He was a privileged youth–a rich kid. Annica had gone to college and made her way to detective...probably all on her own. With all the money and his father's cure, why did he stay here?
"I suppose you heard about Alcatraz?"
"Yeah. I mean, everybody did." Annica shrugged and he saw that she was not uncomfortable with the topic and he continued.
"I came to the school because I heard it was safe. They were considering closing the doors with Charles Xavier's death...but Ororo was determined to keep it open..."
Annica's brows furrowed, "Ororo?"
"I mean, Storm. Storm refers to her...to her..." Warren noticed his hands winding in circles trying to get his point across without actually having to use certain stereotypical terminology.
Luckily for him, Annica nodded; she understood.
"Shortly thereafter came Alcatraz, and then I just stayed. My father wanted me to take the cure...but I couldn't. I couldn't go through with it. My father and I rarely talk now, though he does know that I am here and helping out."
Annica continued to tread beside him, quietly listening. Her hair shimmered like cinnamon in the mid-morning sun. She looked up and met his gaze, and he felt compelled to ask a question.
"So you're not concerned with what kind of school this is?"
She stopped in her tracks and shook her head, "No. Everyday I work at solving murders. I put really bad people in jail. Logan didn't know me, but he saved me...three times. He offered me a place to go where I could protect myself. He assured me that the school it safe. And I believe him. I'm just a shot-up, regular detective. I am nothing special or extraordinary, but I try to be a good person and a good cop. I believe that actions speak louder than words...or genetics."
For a moment, Warren felt ashamed that he had hurled the slightly accusatory question at her; but she only sighed and continued, "I don't pretend to know anything about evolution. Or the politics currently involved...but I trust Logan."
They began walking again in silence and Warren suddenly felt words forming and spilling from his lips that were unexpected, "Before I came here, I used to bind my wings down. I used to wear a trench coat...everywhere..."
He saw Annica wince painfully with the mention of binding himself. He had never elicited such a response from another person; some emotion so blatantly honest.
"I just threw away the coat a few days ago." They headed out of the gardens and back towards the school. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annica hang her head.
"I'm so sorry. That sounds awful." She near-whispered.
Warren, in his young life, had been accused of many things. Being rich, stuck-up, self-righteous, a freak...however, it was not until he came to Xavier's mansion that he had experienced sympathy rather than shame, embarrassment and fear.
Annica felt horrible for the way that she staunchly defended her feelings about being at the school. She knew that the residents at the school had every reason to be wary of her, and that they had endured discrimination that she would never know. However, she would just have to prove herself to them.
When Warren told her about strapping his wings down, Annica instinctively wanted to take his hand. How could anyone go through the emotions of such shame over something that they had absolutely no control over? How could anyone make someone else feel that way? And without an ounce of kindness and sympathy? All valid questions, yet they were questions that the entire world had yet to answer since the dawn of time.
As they neared the school, Annica once again spied the three headstones. She began walking towards them and Warren silently followed. Annica stood between them. The two next to each other read "Scott Summers" and "Jean Grey," and the lone headstone on the opposite side read "Dr. Charles Xavier." Each was emblazoned with a "X" caught in a circle and it reminded her of her father's headstone, which was engraved with his badge and number. Her fingers itched to trace it, but she restrained herself. She heard Warren step up behind her and she whispered gently.
"What happened?"
"All Hell broke loose."
She stood for a few more minutes, trapped in a reverie. Annica then turned around to meet the cool blue eyes of Warren Worthington III.
"It sounds like it."
She thought about all the news; Marcus, her father, Jesse, Logan, Marie, and all three headstones flashed through her mind's eye. Everything bled together. Everything had become one big mess.
"Do you want to go back in?" Warren asked.
"I suppose we should."
They walked side by side up the stairs and through the front door when she saw Logan headed their way.
"I was just coming to find you. We need to talk."
Annica felt her heart jump into her throat and she sputtered, "W-what's wrong?"
"Storm and I just got some news. I will have to be gone a few days..."
"But where are you–?"
Before she could finish, Logan answered, "Scotland."
Annica looked from Logan to Warren and wondered if she was the only one who found this news strange. Logan must have saw the worried look on her face and took her by the shoulders.
"I will be back in a few days. It's urgent, or I wouldn't leave like this. You will be fine here until I get back. Warren will be here, he'll look after you."
With that, Warren spoke up, "I suppose I should go and talk to Storm."
Logan nodded to him and then turned his attention back to Annica, "You okay?"
Annica stood up straight and shrugged, "Yeah. It's just Scotland is hardly a day trip..."
"I'll explain more when I come back. It doesn't make much sense to me either." Annica heard the trill of a growl in Logan's tone and knew that what he said was true.
It would be an interesting weekend.
A/N; Next up, Warren is in charge of the school; Logan and Storm are on their way to see Moira McTaggart on Muir Island; and Annica receives a scare. I'm sorry about no line breaks, the button on the site is not currently working...
Lerrinus: Thanks for the review! Please keep reading and reviewing!
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Time and Fate: Here's the new chapter! Bon apatite!
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