Memories
Adjusting
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or any of their characters. Tora and Weapon X-ii are my own though.
Tora was standing on the balcony in her room. For the first time ever, she'd managed to beat Charles at chess. She'd been careful, tried not to sacrifice too many pieces and then given up and just played to win. Charles, so used to having her always using subtly wasn't able to change his strategy quickly enough and it slightly surprised him when she glanced up and murmured, "Checkmate."
He'd smiled and then they'd played again and again and again. By the time they'd finished the last game it was late and neither had noticed time passing. She'd enjoyed it because it was a challenge, something to stretch her mind, whilst he enjoyed playing against someone whose next move was a surprise. He always played white. She played black or red, depending on which chess set they were using. The pieces kept going missing, possibly because when they played they completely blanked out the rest of the world.
An engine stopped her thoughts. Logan was back. But something was wrong. The bike was stuttering and there it was. The smell of blood. No! Please not Logan. Without a second thought she leapt off the balcony landing hard on the gravel drive, the grazes healing quickly. She ran, managing to get to Logan just as he slumped off the bike. She caught him and her hand brushed against blood. He glanced round at her.
"Tora? What yer doing out here?"
"Helping you. I'll get you inside."
Straining against the weight of a man who whilst being smaller than her was a lot stockier she somehow managed to get him inside and upstairs to his room. As soon as she had lowered him onto his bed she ran down to get the First Aid kit. She didn't know if she'd need it but she felt she should at least try to stop the blood flow. On an afterthought she also grabbed two of Logan's beers from the fridge. He looked as though he'd need something to dull the pain.
She took the steps upstairs two at a time. She knew he'd heal but that part of her brain wasn't working properly, shoved aside by the part screaming No! No, please not another Eva!
When she got up there the bleeding had definitely lessened. She passed Logan the beer and he looked relieved.
"I want you to play doctor ever time I injure myself."
She shot him a dark look. It was alright for him. He knew what had happened. She didn't. For all she knew the wound could have poison in it. She didn't fully know the extent of his healing. But then a scent made itself plain. Why? Why did it have to be Creed? At least it meant there wasn't any venom in the wound. She bandaged it, just to stop the sheets from being stained worse than they were.
"In the morning, put them in cold water with sodium chloride. It should lift the blood out."
She could tell he didn't understand.
"Salt, you idiot."
"Ah. Wondered what you were going on about."
She hit him with the metal First Aid kit then.
"Why did you do that?"
"Because you're an idiot and you knew when you left this morning this was going to happen to you and you went anyway. And because you went after Creed and didn't let me come to help. And how did you know he'd be coming after you today?"
He shifted uneasily at that. Then looked into the golden eyes that accused and burned.
"Fine. It's…well…every year on the same day he comes after me."
"Why?"
"Because it's the first time he came after me. Because it's his way of reminding me of our past. …It's his way of wishing me a happy birthday."
She wasn't expecting that. She blinked twice and then lowered the intense gaze that dug and bore into people.
"I…I didn't realize."
"It's fine."
Embarrassed she left. Silence reigned. Then Logan pulled out one of his cigars and despite various warnings from Charles, Ororo, Kurt and Peter and death-threats from Scott and Tora, he lit it.
The dark haired woman laughed as the final thought rose from the pool.
"Did she really hate cigar smoke that much?"
The other woman, the one with the mask of ice, smiled. It was slightly scary. The left side of her face moved but the mask didn't shift in the slightest.
"It was about the scent."
"You would know."
The shorter woman rounded on the raven-haired beauty.
"I haven't smelt anything since I lost that fight. I haven't lived. Haven't had anything. Just one stupid second to live over and over again. Do you realize how boring life without change is? It's fine for you. You have your entire afterlife. I've managed to move everything into the Archives in the time it took you to visit me. And I still haven't come to terms with my losses. Understand?"
Death stepped backwards, slightly surprised by the ferocity of the attack.
"Dra…"
"Don't talk to me. If you want to stay to watch you can. But unless you shut up, I want you to leave.
"I'll be quiet."
She was sitting in her room. Sad. And then she had an idea. She flew around the room, gathering the stuff she needed. Then ran down to the lab. And to the kitchen. It may take a while but she'd manage it. Back to the library. She could read well. It was just writing that slowed her down. But all the stuff she needed was in the book. She spent ages working on it. Then calmed down and glanced around. It was early and no one was down. So she simply got the present and left it outside Logan's door.
"Erm…"
"You can talk now."
"OK. What did she give him? I got confused."
"I'll switch to his memory of what happened next shall I?"
"If you would."
When Logan woke the bleeding had stopped. He glanced down and smiled. There wasn't too much blood everywhere. Tora had managed to stop the worst of the blood leaking out of him. By tomorrow there wouldn't be a scar. He opened the door and promptly tripped over a package. It was wrapped simply in brown paper and printed in slow steady letters, as if the person who had written it wasn't too sure around pens was his name.
He looked around but no one was there. Then he shrugged and picked up the box. It was light. There was a clink of glass inside. Hopefully Kurt had brought him that beer he owed him for those fights. He opened it. No beer. Just a few stoppered test tubes, all containing the same colourless liquid. And a note in the same precise printing.
"Put this on your claws next time you fight him. Store at around 37°C. T"
He pulled out the plastic stopper on one and sniffed it. It was that stuff that secreted from her claws. The stuff that halted healing factors. How on Earth had she got this stuff? Unless… Was she harvesting this stuff? Surely she wouldn't remove it from her own body? And why did she mark it in Celsius for Pete's sake?
"Why did she mark it in Celsius?"
"All will be revealed Death. All in good time. All in good time.
A.N. I'll be without an internet connection for three weeks. So I'll not be able to update this story. I'll still be writing though.