Memories

Shadows of Questions

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or any of their characters. Tora and Weapon X-ii are my own though.

They were standing in their clearing. It had become theirs over time. Feelings from the first kiss still lingered. The others had soon learnt if they went off there together not to go anywhere near it. But now she was looking at him with her arms crossed.

"This had better be good else we're going straight to the Medi-lab."

Logan shifted slightly. This was different to when he had been trying to ask Mariko. But then Mariko had never been slightly unpredictable. Most of the time he could guess what Tora was going to do but then there would be those few times when she'd change tactics and either lash out at something he thought wouldn't bother her or meekly accept something he thought she would hate. This was one of those times when things could go either way. She'd either be incredibly insulted and attack or she'd forgive him for leaving her under the girder for her own protection.

She was giving him that look that meant she was getting impatient. He better talk quickly.

"Tora. Er… erm. This isn't looking good is it?"

She shook her head. She wasn't making this easier for him with her unwavering stare.

"Er…I was wondering that….er…since we've been going out for-"

"Six months. Can you please think out what you're going to say before you actually say it?"

"Well ya ain't helping, staring at me like that. The only thing I've seen that blinks less than you do are fish. And they don't have eyelids."

He watched the slight smile play across her lips. He wished he were able to charm her into this. He closed his eyes and complied everything he wanted to say, hoping she wouldn't put him off with that look.

"Right. I think I have everything I want to say. Please don't kill me, not until you've heard me out. Ya know I'm not very good with words, that I prefer to fight than to work out my troubles. I can't pretend I'm good at this. But in the time I've known you, it's like everything has changed. No really!"

The sceptical look on her face told him she wasn't buying this.

"What I'm trying to say is, either of us could be dead tomorrow, or captured by some evil megalomaniac. And I was sort of thinkin'. If I had to die, I'd like to know I had a family. Someone who cared about me. So…"

"So…"

"So I was wondering…er…"

"You're doing it again."

"That's it! I give up on words."

And he drew out the tiny box he'd bought. He glanced up and saw a slight flicker of confusion through her eyes. Of course! She didn't get it. He flicked the box open, revealing the brown-gold flash of tigers eye. He's thought about that for hours before choosing the warm golden stone because it was the same colour as her eyes. The silver band that twisted around the stone and held it in place. Her eyes were darkening with more confusion and the tiniest flash of comprehension.

"Do you know what this represents?"

Her mouth opened slightly but no sound came out. She started to shake her head then nodded so gently he almost didn't see the movement.

"I suppose I'm trying to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me. If you want to that is."

A single tear was sliding over the ruined side of her face. But the barriers were up and he couldn't tell if he was about to hear a yes or a low hiss. He didn't get either. Instead she had moved so fast all he saw was a blur and soft lips met his. Hoping this meant she'd accepted he enjoyed the kiss then broke away and whispered hoarsely "Does that mean yes?"

Her warm eyes were sparkling with tears and he saw the love that was burning inside them.

"Of course it means yes, you idiot."

Then she grabbed his hand.

"Come on, we have an appointment at the Medi-lab."

"WHAT!"

"I did say I couldn't forgive you for leaving me out of a fight. Don't worry. It should grow back."

He spluttered then saw the slight look in her eyes he'd come to recognize as 'pulling-Logan's-leg-look'.

"You're having me on, ain't ya?"

"Of course."

And they were kissing again, gently, probing. In the end they had to break contact to breathe.

"My Wolverine. Mon Logan. Mon Carcajou."

"You can call me Carcajou if ya want to."

Standing in silence the two just remained close for a while before walking back together, hand in hand.

"That was so sweet."

"Jean, please try not to patronise."

"And they didn't tell anyone for ages."

"They told everyone three days later."

"Yeah but so much happened in that time."

When they got up there they wouldn't tell anyone. They ate with the others, laughed with the others but were still slightly apart. The small box was burning in Tora's pocket so she made an excuse and went upstairs to hide it in her room. As she'd moved downstairs all the lights had gone out. They'd congregated in the sitting room and been talking about what to do when the low voice had spoken.

"James…"

They looked round.

"James. It's me."

Logan had been the only one who dared speak.

"There ain't no James here."

A sad moan had followed that statement.

"What did they do to you James?"

Even in the dark, Logan felt everyone's eyes on him.

"My James. My student. The boy I call my son."

"You know me?"

"When your love had chosen another, when you were still a boy you went running into the forest. I found you, I taught you. I cared for you and I called you my son. I who had no children was given someone to love and be loved by in return."

"When was this?"

"You expect me to remember the year? When you have lived as long as I have James, you don't put stock on the year number. I remember it was before the War."

"The War?"

"The War. The Great War. The war that set Europe aflame."

"Wait a second, you are talking about World War One."

"That is one name for it. But at the time it was the Great War, the War to End All Wars."

"That's impossible."

"Not for me. I, who have seen empires rise and fall, seen kingdoms burn and dynasties die."

"Who are you?"

"I go by many names. The Fallen Angel, The Darkwing, The Shadow, The Good Demon. But the name I was given when I was a baby was Etana."

"What are you?"

"I am one of you. Mutant. But I was born of the two races. Neyaphem and Cheyarafim. They entered your mythology as angels and demons. The Cheyarafim are dead, destroyed by Azazel himself. Lord of the Neyaphem. He goes by many names. Semihazah, Duma, Keriel, Mastema, Beliar, Gadreel, Beelzebub, Satan. But he is like us. He is my grandfather and he hates me."

"Why?"

"Because his daughter betrayed him. Fell in love with a Cheyarafim and I was born. His blood, mingled with that of his worst enemies. He's been trying to kill me ever since. And it doesn't help that I banished him and his precious clan to the Brimstone dimension. Centuries back."

"Are you telling me, you've been alive for centuries."

"I was given to my uncle in Hebron, around 1010BCE."

"You're lying."

"But my dear James, why would I lie?"

"No one lives that long."

"I am not the eldest of our kind. Before me there was Selene. And the Cloaked One. The one who manipulates you and I cannot touch him."

"You know the person who did all this to me?"

"By reputation only. Now James, are you ready to believe me?"

Suddenly the lights flickered back up and they all gasped. Gazing at them from the ceiling was a woman with silver hair and silver eyes without pupils or scleras. Her body was covered in a soft black fur like Kurt's but around her ankles, wrists and eyes delicate black feathers were picked out. She seemed oddly hunch-backed and a tail, not quite as long as Kurt's but edged with feathers swung under her. Her hands and feet were entirely human though. She looked around and gasped slightly.

"Cheyarafim and Neyaphim together…"

"What?"

She pointed at Warren.

"Cheyarafim."

Then at Kurt.

"Neyaphim."

"W…What?"

She dropped from the ceiling and as she straightened up the hunchback twisted and unfolded into a pair of gleaming black wings. She was looking hard at Kurt.

"Uncle."

"Vas?"

"Azazel is the only Neyaphim able to leave his dimension through his teleporting skills. All Neyaphim born since I trapped them are his children. By default, you are my uncle."

"Why are you here?"

"Because when James left he told me not to contact for him until he found peace. And being a fool, I agreed."

"Excuse me, but why so you keep calling him James?"

"Because that was the name I knew him by. The name he went by at seventeen. Of course I suppose he has a different name now."

"Yeah."

"Is it Logan by any chance?"

"How…?"

"You went by James Logan from aged twelve when you were forced to flee your home. But I know the name you were born under. But you yourself told me that boy was dead. I leave it to rest. Logan."

"You don't look like you're millennia old."

The woman smiled, showing brilliant white teeth which had no suggestion of Kurt's fangs. She did look like a mixture of Kurt and Warren.

"Excuse me, can we get back to the place where you called me Uncle?"

"Sorry, but it's true."

"How old am I?"

She sighed.

"I don't know exactly. I had been taking a decade or so off when you found me. So I wasn't sure of the exact year. But I'd say you're about…"

"About?"

"One hundred and thirty."

For a few moments no one could talk.

"I can allow you to examine my memories if you wish."

"How?"

"I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to start a mutant group without a decent telepath. I'm lowering my shields now."

"Jean, I'd appreciate it if you weren't the one to do this."

"Why Logan?"

"Just trust me on this."

Charles looked at the dark-furred woman. She looked like she was in her late twenties. But there was a look of age about the way she held herself. She glanced round.

"Would you mind me getting my equipment? It's pretty special to me but I thought it prudent not to bring them in with me. They are very…specialised."

"Erm, what sort of specialised?"

"I assume you know what Logan specialises in. Well, I taught him the basics. Just martial arts and languages. When you've lived as long as I have, you get bored and learn all sorts. The martial arts were from my trips to China and Japan in the 14th century. I think my Russian may be obsolete now."

"Oh."

"Miss…er…"

"Etana. They hadn't quite got around to surnames when I was born."

She gave a flash of white teeth then disappeared in a light absorbing black cloud.

"I may be prepared to admit I am related to her."

Suddenly a burst of blinding white light appeared where Etana had been standing before. She was now holding a bag from which various swords, knifes and throwing equipment protruded. She noticed their looks.

"I deal in protection for those without a voice. No fee. But some of the people I go up against don't take no for an answer. I do aim to scare rather than kill. A maimed enemy can be more use that a dead one."

"What do you mean?"

"I protected a small Jewish community in Poland in the Second World War. My only regret was I couldn't save more of my people. But after I fought off some of the invaders, many of the native Poles switched sides to join me."

"Your people?"

"I was raised in a Hebrew family. Things have changed since then but I remain faithful to my foster parents. And their faith. I never really was able to put down roots. Longest I ever stayed somewhere was around the first century BCE. I sort of gave up on life then. Thought I'd done everything. Made some stupid mistakes, made deals with the wrong people. Managed to break free but they didn't like that. I kept a low profile for a couple of decades. Hid in Africa, took what I needed to survive and in return I told stories. Of angels and demons, of far off lands. Of people with skins of blue and of white bears. They loved me. Their storyteller, their protector. Their fallen angel."

She smiled sadly.

"Best fifty years of my life."

She said it in the tone that most people would say 'six weeks'. That showed them how different her outlook was to theirs. They planned a few weeks in advance. She planned years or even decades in advance. She was old. So old they had trouble comprehending how ancient she was.

"May I?"

She turned to look at Xavier and nodded.

"Would you like a quick tour through the centuries or just the memories concerning Logan?"

"You can control what I see?"

"I used to work a lot with telepaths. Sometimes I needed their…er…special abilities. They taught me how to create shields and one showed me how to give psychic tours."

"I have never heard of how to do that."

She laughed.

"You wouldn't. It died with my friend. We were partners for thirty years. I still have his imprint somewhere in here."

The woman who had seen centuries fly past tapped the side of her head.

"You have an imprint of your companions in your own mind?"

"I couldn't let him die."

The Professor nodded. And then she reached out a hand and touched his head. Images flashed by so fast he almost couldn't see them. Years, centuries worth of knowledge and experience. He saw how her friends aged while she remained young. He saw the different aliases she used over the years to protect those without voices. He saw how she gained experience, becoming a fighter who rivalled Logan. Then the images slowed and he saw a young man of about 17 screaming in the forest. He felt the kinship Etana had felt for him and flicked her wings to land beside him. The boy hadn't seemed afraid.

"Are you here to kill me?"

"And why would I do that little one?"

"I want to die. Rose chose Smitty. He's like my father but I love her. Will you kill me?"

"I don't kill little one. I protect. But I'll teach you if you want me to."

The boy turned to look at her and Charles saw the ice-blue eyes he knew so well only without the look of intense suffering.

"Why?"

"Because we are the same. Because you would be the best student I could ever take."

"You're a teacher?"

"Among other things."

"I had a teacher. Miss Douglas. She was amazing. She made me laugh. At times I thought she was more of a mother than my own mother."

"Then come little one and I will show you. Show you how to protect those you care about."

She sped up the memories so a few days passed in what felt like seconds. Then the boy came running to her crying.

"Little one, what is wrong?"

"I killed her. I killed her. She got between me and Dog. I didn't mean to kill her, it was an accident."

Etana didn't say anything but simply held the boy close to her as he cried.

"Come. You can stay with me until you are ready."

Again the memories sped up as The Fallen Angel trained the boy she now knew as James. Whatever his original name had been she kept it hidden from Charles. And she saw him less as a student but more as a son. Then the day when he had almost killed her in training.

"I can't teach you any more James. I've given you centuries worth of experience but you've absorbed it in under a year. Perhaps I should have taught you how to control yourself more."

"I need to go."

"James, why?"

"Because I need to find someone like you. Someone who can look me in the eyes. I need to find some sort of peace. To get away from what happened that night. And maybe to find a way of forgiving myself for Rose."

"James, I understand."

"You do?"

"Of course Little One. But I will find you. And I will watch you."

"Please don't interfere. I have to do this on my own."

Charles felt her misgivings. Then…

"I swear I shall not intervene or make contact until you have found what you are searching for."

Time sped up again. He watched as Etana kept her vow despite it breaking her heart. He could only watch with her as the women Logan loved were killed and as his humanity was stripped away. Then the World Wars where others required her help more. He watched as Logan's pain continued and finally the Weapon X Project. Etana couldn't help him. She watched as he roamed the Canadian wilderness and became an employee of Department H. Then she watched as he joined the X-Men, helping where she could. So that was who let the X-Men out in that scuffle with the new Brotherhood. Then she watched as he found the peace he craved and also the woman who looked him in the eyes. So she had come. Charles withdrew from her mind with the knowledge this woman was no fraud. No body could have constructed the things she had seen from books. Her eyes that looked like Kurt's stared into his.

"See. He was my son, despite there being no blood to tie us."

He looked around at the X-Men.

"Aren't you going to scan her?"

Amazing. She'd given him a guided tour of three millennia in so short a time the others hadn't even noticed he was gone.

"She is no fraud. And also Logan does appear to be about one hundred and thirty years old."

Wolverine just walked to the wall and started hitting his head against it.

At this point Phoenix forgot the no-giggling rule and burst into fits that subsided into hiccups.

"It was funny the first time around. It's even better seen like this."

"It's not funny. He just found out what he thought were the seven-eighths of his life that had been wiped were actually about twenty-five twenty-sixths of his life."

"Yes but Logan thumping his head on the wall. He made a hole in it!"

"Respect the adamantium."