Secrets of the Past

by Kerri G.

Part 1.

Wow," Everett said when they arrived in the gate room. "That's a weird feeling." He blinked in the dim light, waiting to adjust to the lightheaded sensation the transport gave him.

"You get used to it," Jazz shrugged, leading the way out. "It's the only practical way in or out of here."

Charlotte met them in the kitchen. Jazz swept her up in a hug, lifting her off her feet with ease. He set her back down, his dark golden eyes searching hers for clues to her mood.

It had been two weeks since she'd left him at the academy, two very long weeks that she spent wandering around and sleeping far more than she should. She had no idea Jess leaving home would make her feel so physically sick.

"I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow," she said lightly, turning away from his gaze before he saw too much. This son of hers was too perceptive and lacked the experience of his brother in what not to comment on.

"I decided to come early," he told her. "I've got so much stuff, I don't know what I'm taking yet."

"You don't have to take much. Just get the rest when you need it." She waved them to the high chairs at the eating bar. "You guys hungry?"

"No, ma'am," Ev said, his eyes wide. He still couldn't get over how young Jazz's mother looked. Dressed in cutoffs and a ragged T-shirt she could pass for a student at the academy.

"What about you, sweetheart?"

"No. The others wanted to come, but I thought I'd check with you first." He knew she didn't like strangers in the area, even though the students weren't exactly strangers anymore. Best to get the okay first, even if he was sure she'd agree.

"I don't mind." She'd already had to make some life-altering choices lately, what was a couple more? "Why don't I take some steaks out of the freezer? You could barbecue later down by the lake, have a party, swim a little."

"I'll take care of that," he said. "I'll bring some others with me on the next trip." The least he could do for her would be to make this as slow and easy as possible.

"Okay. Do you know what you need yet?"

"I'm definitely taking my bed. The one in my room is hard as a rock and way too small."

"Why don't we just have one delivered?"

"This one's already broken in the way I like it, Mom. I know where all the lumps are."

"Whatever you want, honey. I'm going next door for awhile to check on things. Do you need anything before I go?"

"Nope. You be careful out there." He grinned at her. "Oh, I almost forgot." He pulled an envelope from his pocket. "Miss Frost said to give this to you."

Charlotte took it, frowning. What could it be this time? She'd already had her bank wire the tuition, filled out the mountain of paperwork, even gave blood to Hank for study purposes. What more could they want from her? All she wanted to do was hide for awhile, maybe 10-20 years, and nurse her battered soul.

She looked up to find Jazz eyeing at her anxiously, reacting to her expressions. Summoning a smile, she reassured him with a wink. "I'll give her a call later when I get back." She set it on top of the refrigerator. "You guys have fun."

Jazz waited until the front door closed, then let out a sigh.

Ev shook his head. "Don't you think you should've told her Wolverine was at the school and you invited him here? She's going to be really mad. My mother would kill me if I did that to her, and she's not a mutant."

"And give her time to decide which weapon to use? She's got a collection that would bug your eyes out. Gets 'em from a dealer in Seacouver. I want them to get along with each other."

"From what Jubes said they got along all right." She was still talking about barging in on them. Ev wished she'd shut up about it. It was hard enough to ignore the fact his parents might have had sex a million years ago when they were young. Parents weren't supposed to have sex lives. Jazz's mom may be old, but she wasn't old and it made him uncomfortable to imagine her and Wolverine.... Damn.

"That's not getting along, that's just hormones," Jazz said, striving for an adult tone of voice. He didn't understand it anymore than Ev did, but he was the older one, he had an image to live up to. He'd found out during the last two weeks his newly discovered father had quite a reputation and he was expected to bask in the reflected glory. "Come on." He led the way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"I thought you said this was the middle of nowhere? Where would she go next door?" Everett asked, looked out the windows lining the stairwell. All he saw were trees, and more trees.

"The next valley. That's where Tom's tribe lived. It's deserted now, still the same as they left it. The tribe comes back for celebrations and rituals. Mom keeps an eye on it for them, and the cemetery is on the way. She'll spend some time there. We probably won't see her again for 4 or 5 hours."

~*~*~*~*~

Jubilee came with the second trip and found her way to Jazz's room. She stood in front of his entertainment center, eyeing each piece of equipment and calculating it's potential. Would she ever like to get something like this in her room! Seeing as how they were practically brother and sister, he might be persuaded to share a little. "Wow, what a set up! Are ya takin' it with ya?"

"I don't know. It's a real hassle to take apart and put back together."

"Ange could do it. He's good with his hands," she grinned at him. "A real shame to let all this just get dusty."

"Well, okay."

~*~*~*~*~

"Where's yer mother?" Logan stood out on the porch looking around. He arrived with the third wave, not sure himself if this was a good idea. When the boy asked if he wanted to go, Logan jumped on the chance, then immediately regretted it. He didn't know if he was here for the boy, or to get another opportunity to talk with his mother.

It was the mother. The boy would be close at hand now, but she was the one with the secrets, pieces of a past he no longer had.

And the body he wanted to get his hands on again.

"She's in the next valley over. She'll be back soon." Jazz disappeared back in the house. Inside, he hoped against hope that a meeting on Mom's turf would let her relax enough to talk rationally with Logan.

Logan hadn't been able to get her out of his head. His insides had been twisted in knots for the last 2 weeks. It was clear even to him the boy hadn't told her he was coming. She would have been here ready to take another slice at him if he had told her. The whole situation just felt...unfinished. It wouldn't be finished until he knew everything she did about their relationship.

With that, he set off after her, intending to let her know he was here. He didn't like surprising her like this. It wasn't fair to her. Not that fair bothered her, after their last encounter. Fair wasn't something she considered important in combat, and they were most definitely at war.

After tracking her for nearly a half-hour, he wandered into the tiny cemetery. She'd come this way, he could still smell her. Curiously, he looked around. Most of the graves didn't have formal markers, just indentions in the ground, small piles of stones here and there, but he knew them for what they represented. Towards the rear he spied some headstones.

He found her curled up in the grass on a grave next to a headstone. She was sleeping, her cheeks damp and face blotchy from crying. The marker held one word ~ Raven ~ and a date, 1852.

Logan found a spot under a nearby tree to sit and wait for her to wake up. He lit a cigar and relaxed.

After looking around awhile, this place had clearly never seen a logger's axe, he turned his attention on the sleeping woman. Pictures from their first meeting flashed through his mind. Her eyes glowing at him in anger, in combat, in passion. The way she moved with the sword in her hands. The way her face looked when her body exploded in his arms. The utter despair and hatred in her voice when she said she loved him, that she still loved him. The fierce love and tenderness she showed for her sons.

And she looked so damn young! He felt like a pervert for the way he thought about her. Hank said she would only age a few years every century.

Hank had tried to explain her aging to him, based on his conversations with Thomas and his study of her blood. The best Blue could come up with was vague comparisons to his healing factor. It was alien to the good doctor, but Hank was hooked by the research, nearly rapturous over the new blood proteins he'd discovered.

After his preliminary studies of the blood from her and the two sons, Hank could only conclude the alien traits appeared to be a great deal more adaptable than the human ones. The contributions they made were internal, rather than external, hiding behind human traits. Thomas told Hank Charlotte was her father all over, even taking him back to the Manhattan apartment to show him the oil paintings of his grandparents.

Thomas confirmed that he resembled his father, just as Jazz looked like Logan, but both sons had their mother's eyes, her agility, longevity and her violent temper, though in Jazz it was a toss up over which parent contributed most to his mood swings. Only she and Jazz were mutants. Alien-mutant hybrids. Thomas was just incredibly sensitive.

It didn't make a difference. He could sit here and look at her, tell himself she hated him, she had every reason in the world to hate him, and he still wanted her. He still wanted to feel her moving against him, hear her voice demanding, then begging him. He wanted to watch her fight him, the shiny blades whirling between them.

He wanted to remember her. More than anything, he wanted those memories of her.

Logan liked having the kid around the last couple of weeks. He spent time at the academy, ostensibly to help with the training classes, but he fooled no one. He used the time to get to know this 56 year old child of his. Jess was smart, old enough to be interesting, and know a good malt when he tasted one. He had decent combat skills, Charlotte's training apparent. He had yet to see if the boy could handle a sword as she did, but he was good with knives and a bo staff. It made him curious if his mother was proficient with a bo as well.

The novelty of being a father, along with the looks and comments, hadn't worn off yet. Jean pointed out that he hadn't been there for the hard part so he really hadn't anything to measure this experience by, but it didn't matter.

Logan was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't see her eyes open and stare back at him until she blinked and yawned.

"Y'always nap in a graveyard?" he asked.

"You always show up in places you aren't invited?" Charlotte sat up and leaned against the headstone, rubbing her eyes.

"Been invited, darlin'. The boy asked if I wanted to come see the place."

"The boy has a name."

"I know."

She didn't look good, he noticed. Her eyes were heavily shadowed as though she hadn't been sleeping well. She looked like she'd lost a few pounds, too, and she didn't need to lose the weight. It made her appear fragile, unhealthy. He might mention that to Hank when he saw him.

She cozied up to that rock like it would protect her, he thought.

"Well?"

"What?" She looked puzzled.

"Sleep here often?"

"Sometimes. The dead stay dead here."

"Not like me, ya mean."

"Not like you. Come on, I'll send you back." She rose stiffly to her feet, swaying a little from the lightheaded feeling of moving too quickly. He made a move to help her, but her glare kept him away.

"I ain't goin' back. Jess asked me to dinner, somethin' about a barbecue."

Charlotte gripped the top of the headstone with both hands. "Damn. The hell with it. I'm too tired to deal with you both. You can find your own way back." She moved off in the direction of the village. She would stay there until they were all gone and she had her solitude back.

End Part 1.

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