Pieces of Your Soul: Part Six

by Kerri

.........He landed hard, dazed, the sun breaking over the city line. He was on the floor, every part of him hurt. His eyes were thick, his head ached. But for the first time in many, many years, he had memories. And they were real.

The warmth of the body next to him caused him to look over. She lay in a tight ball, hugging herself, dried tears on her face. 'I loved her' he thought, and knew the truth of the words. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, then reached for her, lifting her to his lap, cradling her in his arms.

Her arms went around him, her face pushed against his neck. Tears dampened his skin as she wept, his own eyes were moist. "I remember, darlin', I remember," he whispered into her hair.

He remembered it all, the bodies, the monsters, the fire. Following her, looking for the '5th man'. Sitting across the fire from her, drinking ale and eating stew. Watching her step out of the waterfall naked. The red long johns. Her face when she asked him to share her furs. The feel of her skin against his, her body moving on him, under him. The whispered conversations. He'd fallen in love with her that night, the blood and passion binding them together.

He remembered the medallion now. She'd removed from her neck and put it over his head, pressing the disk against his skin, over his heart. "To keep you safe," she'd told him. "As long as you wear it I am yours. Love has no boundaries, my soul will find yours." He now understood the formality of the words.

He'd tried to convince her to come back with him, but she wouldn't consider it. "When the war is over, I'll be waiting for you," she promised.

Then he woke alone in the morning. Nothing left of her, except the medallion.

He squeezed her tighter. He couldn't remember much of what happened after that. He knew the war ended, but by then he'd been taken by them. The mind wipe, the experiments. They took the most precious thing he had and turned him into the animal he still struggled to control.

Through it all, he wore his talisman, believing blindly in something he couldn't name.

He had her back. Now what?

"Anything you want," she murmured against his skin.

"What?" His throat felt like he'd been screaming for hours, rough, sore.

"You said 'Now what?'."

"I was thinkin' it, darlin'."

"Oh." She'd forgotten they were still psi-linked. She pulled away slowly, mentally and physically, to avoid causing him pain. She tried to rise to her feet, but her body wouldn't support her. Wobbling, she fell back onto him, knocking him over. He struck his head on the hardwood floor.

She couldn't help herself. She starting laughing.

Logan growled hoarsely at her, but she laughed harder. It was infectious. He smiled reluctantly. Then a chuckle escaped him.

Outside the door, Thomas heard them laughing and sighed with relief. He hadn't been looking forward to picking up the pieces of his mother's life again, nor killing the man responsible. With a smile, he headed for the kitchen to start the coffee.

After showing Logan to a guest room, Charlotte showered and dressed, opting for her usual jeans and T-shirt. It made her look about 20, but it was comfortable. She considered taking a nap, but decided coffee was a better prospect. It was time for breakfast, she had guests. And plans for the day.

She came down the backstairs directly to the kitchen. Thomas and Hank were both up, having coffee and reading the papers. They looked up at her entrance.

She smiled at them both, dropping a kiss on Thomas' forehead, he was sitting down she could reach him now, and then on Hank's forehead. "Morning, boys. What will it be? Pancakes? Waffles? Omelets? Sausage, Bacon, steak? Speak up or get oatmeal." She poured herself coffee, then topped off their cups.

"Waffles and bacon," Thomas said, "and maybe the access codes to your files?"

She shot him a teasing look. "On my deathbed, and not a moment sooner." She pulled out a mixing bowl.

"I take it everything is...satisfactory?" Hank asked, tentatively.

"Things are not bad," she hedged. "I'm seeing William at 11:00 am. Are you coming with me?"

Thomas shook his head. "Took care of my business last month. I want to get back to your manuscript."

"And leave poor Hank on his own? Why don't you come with me, Doctor. We'll have lunch afterwards."

"I don't want to intrude. I do have a few errands of my own. I could meet you somewhere for lunch?"

"You wouldn't be intruding. I need to take care of some legal work." Time to check her final wishes, see who died and who didn't.

The telephone rang. Thomas went to answer it. By the time he returned, the smell of bacon filled the kitchen and the first waffles were out and being consumed with gusto by an appreciative Hank.

"That was Jean Summers," he told them. "We've been invited for dinner."

"It took you that long for an invitation to dinner?" Charlotte questioned.

"It took that long to get off the phone. The big guy, Bishop, got on and started grilling me about what happened last night after you got back. Then the other guy, Summers, he wanted to know what went on after they left."

Hank looked confused. "Scott asked about that?"

"No, the other one. The first was worried Logan hurt her. The second was wondering where to pick up his corpse."

"I'll get back to him on that," Charlotte said. "Here." She put a plate in front of him.

Footsteps from the great room announced the arrival of the 'corpse'. Even freshly showered Logan looked worn out, but he didn't seem angry. Charlotte poured him a cup of coffee, then refilled her own.

She set a plate of waffles and bacon on the table for them, and forked a waffle onto her plate. "We were discussing the disposition of your body. Any last wishes?" She lifted her brow at Logan.

"Can't leave ya people alone for a minute, can I?" he grumbled. "An' by the way, the boy should get pork rinds if he wants 'em."

"What, did you run through 200 years of complaints last night?" she narrowed her eyes at her son, clearly ready to laugh.

"I was making conversation," Thomas said loftily, "while you bailed out last night and left me to entertain Conan the Dark and the What-the-Cat-Dragged-In."

"Which one did you get to be?" she asked Logan.

Hank smothered a laugh.

Hank soon finished and took his leave, promising to be at the restaurant at 1:30. Thomas made good his escape into the library to continue wreaking havoc with her manuscript. Charlotte and Logan were left facing each other over the breakfast table.

She began stacking the dishes and clearing the table. He got up to help her.

<Sit down, relax,> she told him, loading the dishwasher.

He watched her move around the kitchen, motions sure and quick, admiring the way she moved. Comparing her to his newly recovered memories of her.

<Knock it off, you dirty old man, unless you'd like to share that thought out loud.>

"Get outta my head," he said with some heat.

"Sorry, it's more or less a habit." She turned on the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. She poured herself more coffee and took the seat across from him. "Perhaps if you would shield your thoughts a little more..."

His eyes flashed at her.

"I apologize. I'm at a loss here." She swirled the liquid in her cup, suddenly finding it fascinating. "I don't know what to do. Where do we go from here?"

"I don' know. I finally got some part of me back. I looked for ya that mornin', looked for months."

"I know. I teleported out before you woke up. I knew I'd stay if you asked me again and I'd just had enough. I went back frequently, kept an eye on you."

"Why didn' ya let me know?"

"I was less than human then, still struggling with the pain. And why did you take my place? That's what got their attention. They took you just before the war ended, and I couldn't find you. I led that last mission in your place."

"The general let ya do that?"

"Let me? Hal begged me to, promised me everything he could think of to get me to agree. I was the only one who could come close to doing it as well as you." She lifted the hem of her T shirt, exposing her abdomen. A long jagged scar ran from her right hip up her side, surrounded by dozens of smaller scars, and disappeared under the shirt. "A momento of the bomb left where I'd find it."

He reached out to touch the thick ridge. "Meant for me."

"I teleported out of there before the worst of it. Thomas stitched me up, then put my head back together. By the time I could get around again with falling apart, I'd lost all trace of you. When I did pick up some information on your whereabouts, it was clear you didn't remember me. You was in Japan at the time."

That he remembered, his time in Japan, and his face flushed a dull red.

She nodded. "Yes. I had no right to barge into your life and demand you return to me, not when you loved her. I left without ever making contact. I made a point of keeping track of you over the years, until the Weapon X program. After that, you went underground, and I had no idea where you were. I wasn't sure I had the heart to keep looking, not after that. For awhile I put away my medallion, rejected the meaning of it. It hurt."

"I didn't connect 'Wolverine' to you, or even Hank's mentions of Logan in his e-mails. Not till last night. Even then I thought I was seeing another figment of my imagination. It had me seeing you in every dark corner for years."

"The only thing that ever gave me hope was that medallion. You were never without it. I hoped some part of you remembered me, and frankly, I had time on my side. Some years ago I put mine back on, started looking for you again, and prayed to the gods it wasn't too late."

"I hated you, loved you, cursed you, dreamed of you. I just don't know what to do with you now."

"What do ya want to do?" Her words and the scars she wore shamed him.

She felt that from him. "Don't feel sorry for me," she said harshly. "I don't need your pity. You won't be doing either of us any favors if you feel obligated to me."

His temper flared up. He couldn't say what he felt, couldn't find the words. He held out his hand and waited.

Cautiously she placed hers in his. He tugged her out of her seat and over to him, placing her hand against his face, taking the other and doing the same. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of her and hoped she'd understand. His mental blocks fell away, letting her in.

The intensity of his emotions hit her hard, her body jerking back in his arms. His anger, passion, lust, love rolled over her, every cell in her body caught fire. Her head spun out of control, she would have fallen if he hadn't been holding her.

He brought her down to his lap, tucked her head against his shoulder. For long minutes they sat together.

"What do you say we try something old-fashioned and date for awhile," she said, when her heart slowed its wild beating and she could speak coherently.

"On one condition, darlin'." He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew the raven medallion, placed it in her hand, folding her fingers over the warm black metal. "Give this back to me when ya think the time is right. I can wait."

End.

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