Memories
Others
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A little filler about the other worlds Tora lives in. If you want to see something that might not happen in this story, just ask. I might do a few more of these chapters.
She was looking at him from under the oxygen mask, eyes so sad. Logan brushed the streak of black hair from her eyes. This nameless woman who was braver than he could ever be. She had refused to give in to her masters. And was going to pay with her life.
"You didn't ask for this, did ya? They stole yer life and sent ya ta kill me. And instead of killing me, you slit yer own throat. Who are you?"
And in her final, exhausted breath, she whispered a name.
"Tora… my name would have been Tora… So much I had to do…"
The eyes rolled up into the skull. And the hand he was holding went limp. The bravest woman he had ever met. And she was lying dead, completely anonymous. No hero's funeral, no monument. Just an unmarked grave, one of the many in the world.
xXx
She stared in horror at the newspaper. A list of heroes who had died in this 'Ultimatum'. And her precious Logan. Oh, no real name. Just Wolverine. She'd been the one to give him that nickname, many years ago. When they'd met in North Africa. All those years ago. She'd been a young, impulsive spy. A member of La Résistance, sent to work with M15. And when she'd been sent to work with his unit. All the men had looked at her with that…hunger. But only James Howlett had looked her in the eye and seen an equal. They'd fought together. And then they'd been captured and he'd looked her in the eyes and told her she was beautiful. They'd huddled together in the freezing van, waiting for the bullets that were soon going to go through their skulls. And she'd begged him, begged him that he would kill her before he let the guards take her. And he'd placed his hands around her neck and closed his eyes before tightening his grip on her windpipe. And she'd told him her real name, breaking every code that the spymasters had drilled into her.
"Je suis Marie. Marie Circen."
And his blue eyes had filled with tears. And he'd released her neck.
"Sorry. I…I can't do this."
And then, later, after the convoy had been attacked and they'd been rescued, she'd sent a message to her commander.
"Request permission to become involved. If no permission granted, will become involved anyway."
And then the glorious response that permission to become involved with a Sergeant James Howlett (Canadian Militia) had come through. And James had got Captain America to persuade his commanding officer and they had ambushed the camp chaplain. Whilst it had lasted, it had been wonderful. All the others had been jealous. Lucky Jim Howlett, with his pretty French spy of a wife. And then he'd been stupid and managed to get caught with Nick and Wilson. And she'd refused to leave him. They'd been sent to that terrible place together. And even there, she'd refused to leave him. Even when they'd driven her so deeply into her mind, she didn't know what she was anymore, she never left him. They lost all memory of who they were. But guards soon learned that, even when they were less than animals, trying to remove the matching golden rings on their left hands was a bad idea. And then Nick had rescued them. Only she hadn't recognised him. They'd twisted her memories out of shape so she didn't know who she was anymore. The memories came back later. They'd wandered the world, not knowing who they were but knowing that they loved each other more than anything.
And then Jimmy had been born. She hadn't known why the name James was special. But they were being hunted, so, with a heavy, heavy heart she had agreed to give him up. And as they had taken him to his new family, Sabretooth had attacked. He'd torn out her heart and slashed her son. And Logan hadn't been able to help her. He'd went after Sabretooth. And Jimmy, not injured too greatly, had healed. The Hudsons had found him and taken him whilst she had tried to scream. Not her son! Please, not her son! And Logan had come back and buried her in the cold, cold snow. And she'd healed. Slowly, forced to bite into her own arm to survive. Ran wild. Gained her memories of before. Then seen him that day in New York. Standing next to the helmeted man. And she'd known. She'd seen his eyes. Someone, a telepath, had stolen his memories of her. Nearly seventy years of love, companionship and care gone. All because they couldn't bear to have his allegiance spilt. And she'd watched as he'd joined the X-Men. Cried herself to sleep when the redhead putain had stunk of him.
He'd saved her life at one point. Pulled her out of the way of an explosion. He'd frowned, as if he recognized her. She'd just thanked him quietly and walked on. He stood still, staring after her, almost as if the memories had come back. And then he'd shrugged and went back into the fight. And her heart had broken all over again.
And then she'd met old Etana Zilah. An old, old school friend. Her entire family had been killed in the Holocaust. And it had hit home how old she was, really was. Etana's face was lined, she couldn't walk, needed a wheelchair. And she had thirteen great-grandchildren. And she'd seen the old her, Marie Circen. Seen past the black streak in her hair, past the golden eyes. And dear, sweet, smart Etana had hugged her and cried over all the loss and pain and fear. She was well into her nineties, but her mind was as sharp as it had been that day Marie, Marie before she had become La Tigresse and Marie Howlett and Tora, had managed to hid her in the cellar. And they had cried and spoken in fast, fluent French. About Etana's life.
Meeting the American soldier who'd been posted in their village. And poor, lonely Etana had leapt at the chance to escape the hell France had become. They married within a month of the War's end. And she had regretted it. He wouldn't let her practice her religion. After all those years evading fascists and Nazis, she ended up married to one. She'd lived her life in misery, made even worse by finding her childhood friend was believed 'killed in action'. Then one day she'd snapped. Her husband had beaten her when she was carrying her first child and she'd miscarried.
Angry, ill and having lost everything, she prepared to kill him. Only to be told he'd been killed in a bar fight. Relieved, she had went to the nearest synagogue and poured out her sufferings to the rabbi. Less than three years later, she had married again, to a Polish Jew who had met her brother in Sobibor. This marriage had been happier and Etana had been able to enjoy the next sixty years of her life. And Marie had realised how empty her life was. So she'd gone to find the Hudsons. Only her son, her dear, dear son was gone. Screaming, Marie Howlett pulled off the golden wedding ring and flung it into the river.
xXx
She flexed her paw-like hands. It had been the Witch's fault. Magneto had saved her life, although it had hurt so much when he'd tried, as carefully as possible, to remove the adamantium that was preventing her body from changing, changing as the Scarlet Witch had hexed it to. Magneto, who had whispered sorry over and over again as he carefully pulled out the adamantium, saving her life and turning her into this…this beast! The thick black mane that ran lion-like round her face was still soaked from the shower. She looked in the mirror. Her face was now covered in a thin layer of reddish-gold fur with delicate black stripes and the scars hadn't left. The whites of her eyes had completely gone. She tilted her head to each side to look at the thick white ruff around her jawbone. Odd wasn't it. She'd taken the name Tigress. She'd never thought she'd look like a human tiger. The reddish-gold fur thickened, especially around her torso, arms and legs. Her hands, three fingers and an opposable thumb (thank goodness for small mercies) had thin fur on the back of her hands, still thicker than on her face though. She turned her hands over, revealing the delicate pink pads. She moved away, marvelling as to how quickly she'd adjusted to the tail. Nowhere near as flexible or as strong as Kurt's, it helped her balance, especially with her new feet. Her legs had changed, becoming the most cat-like feature of her new body. She would never tease Kurt about his feet again. At least he had toes. Her hearing, impossibly sharp now, despite the removal of the data chip, caught the sound of someone coming to the door. She pulled the towel around her chest, regardless of the fact the fur was so thick nothing could been seen under it. Logan. She nodded. They were friends. In spite of their short and almost bitter romance.
She'd been sitting in the rain, wondering about the scars. And Logan had come over, and she had smelt it.
"Logan?"
And he'd been crying.
"This is my fault…"
"No Logan. It's not."
"It is! Sabretooth only hurt you to get to me!"
"Logan…"
"It's true Tora. That's why… that's why this has to stop. Now. No more."
And she had understood. She'd nodded gently and smiled.
"Friends?"
"Forever."
Logan smiled.
"You look beautiful."
"Shut up Logan."
"It's true. Hank's one lucky guy."
She laughed and hugged him.
"You stop it. Anyway shouldn't you be over with Hank. You know, stop him from having last minute nerves?"
"I'm more worried about you."
"I have Jean and 'Ro. What more could a girl possibly need?"
He laughed. Then kissed her forehead.
"I knew there was a reason we broke up. You're happier with Hank than you could have ever been with me. Hank's fine. He's trying to calm Bobby down. Minor role reversal there."
She wasn't able to stop the bubbling laughter.
"For heavens sake Logan. It's only a first date!"
xXx
Tora's eyes opened. The other worlds. So many and so little time to explore them in. She almost smiled. Here was true freedom, being able to dance through worlds as the fancy took her. Smiling, she pressed herself closer to a sleeping Logan. Because, when it came down to it, she wouldn't trade this world for any other.
Jean smiled sadly.
"Lucky her. She was happy where she was."
"Not always."
A.N. Next chapter- Etana! Lots and lots of Etana! As requested by Jeanniebird. I've got quite a few alternate realities sloshing around in my head. So if you like this chapter, tell me and we can have lots more of them.