[identity profile] mjules.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] whiskeycoffee
Title: Man of Sorrows
Author: m.jules
Series: Time For Love, part 2
Summary: “He himself bore the sin of many and interceded for the transgressors.”
Rating: R for the series
Disclaimer: For love, not money. (You doubt me? Check my bank account.)
Archive: If you have part of the series, you can have it all.





His speech was smoother than butter, but his heart was war; his words were softer than oil, yet they were drawn swords.
--Psalm 55

Prepare plans by consultation, and make war by wise guidance.
--Proverbs 20


“I trust Hank has informed you of my granddaughter’s progress,” Charles said without preamble as Logan stepped into the office. The tone of his voice was unmistakably that of a proud father -- or grandfather, as the case may be -- and Logan couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips at the sound. It was always nice to see Charles so happy about one of his children, and Logan liked knowing he’d helped with this one.

“Yeah,” Logan said finally, answering the question. “Sounds like she’s doin’ real good, Chuck. Better’n we thought.”

Charles nodded. The expected complications with her development had never arisen, aside from colic and a brief phase of refusing to take a bottle when she was still an infant, and though she was still small for her age, she was growing into a beautiful little girl. “Have you seen her yet?”

Logan shook his head. “Nah; sat down an’ talked to Hank then came up here t’ see you. Plannin’ on sayin’ hello to her b’fore I leave, though.”

“I’m sure she would enjoy that; she knows you by name and voice.”

The statement jolted through him with a strong emotion he couldn’t quite identify. He was pleased that she knew him; he’d rescued her on the day she was born, and that meant something to him. He’d been there for the beginning. Something stirred in him, a hint of wistfulness to be able to see her more often, to watch her as she grew, but he knew that now was not the right timing. He also knew Charles hadn’t called him in to chat about Marie; there were rumblings underground that needed to be discussed and it was time to get down to business.

“I’m guessin’ you got the messages I sent ya,” Logan said now, and Charles nodded, unperturbed by his abrupt change of subject.

“Yes, and I have to confess, my interpretation of them doesn’t vary much from yours. The only thing I might have to add is that I don’t believe Magneto is working alone.”

“What makes ya say that?”

Logan had been doing more than just keeping an eye on Raven and sending home runaways when he ran into them; there were many mutant communities that weren’t directly involved with Xavier, and most of them had no problem allowing Wolverine into their circle of confidence. From everything he’d heard, Charles’s old friend Erik Lensherr was gathering forces for a war. Although that shed a new light on things, it was still uncertain whether his seduction of Raven had more to do with strategy or personal vendettas.

“Some of the information you sent me doesn’t sound exactly like Erik’s style. He is very persuasive and capable of being quite manipulative, it’s true, but there are some pieces that simply don’t fit. I believe he may have a co-conspirator with a telepathic mutation.”

Logan sat back in his chair, nodding thoughtfully. “Any idea of how strong of a telepath...?”

“The data is ambiguous,” Charles answered. “It could be that his gifting is weak, or it is possible that he is a strategist and has not yet shown the full reach of his power. At this point, it’s impossible to tell.”

The two men were silent for a while, mulling over this development, until Charles added on, “I would be surprised if he did not try to coax Raven back into his fold.”

“And if he’s got a ‘path helpin’ out...”

“...She may be persuaded.”

Charles’s eyes and voice were filled with sorrow and Logan frowned. He wasn’t sure what was worse; for Raven to be on the streets by herself, at the mercy of her own devices, or aligned with a man who wanted to rule the world and wasn’t likely to get voted Most Philanthropic any time soon.

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground, Chuck,” Logan finally said, and Charles nodded.

“If you find any individuals you feel would be well qualified to aid us, I wouldn’t hesitate to send them my way,” he said, and Logan could see the planning wheels turning in his mind.

“You got it,” he promised as he pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the door of the office. “I’m gonna go back down to the lab; Hank said he had some more stuff he wanted t’ talk to me about. I’ll prob’ly be leavin’ tomorrow mornin’ or afternoon, so I’ll try t’ see Marie before then.”

“As always, I’ll keep an ear out for you while you’re gone,” Charles promised. “Let me know of any new developments you find.”

“O’ course.” And with that, he was gone, closing the door behind him.




“Now where could she be?”

A muffled but still high-pitched giggle from the end of the hall gave away the child’s hiding place, and Jean had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling back. It was part of the game to pretend that she had no clue where the girl had hidden herself.

“I know she was here just a little while ago... I could’ve sworn I saw her. Maybe she got lost somewhere... Marie? Marie!”

She’d been introduced to Charles and Ororo’s granddaughter that morning when she’d arrived at the mansion, and the three-and-a-half-year-old had taken an immediate liking to the redhead. After the party, Marie had tracked Jean down and demanded that her new friend play “hiding seek” with her.

The giggles were wilder now, and it was no surprise to Jean when the coat closet at the end of the hall burst open and the curly-headed, wide-eyed toddler tumbled out, squealing, “Here! I here!”

“There you are!” Jean gasped in exaggerated delight, running to her and scooping her up in her arms, where she proceeded to tickle the child and kiss all over the round, rosy face.

“’Top!” Marie called, still laughing, but pushing Jean's tickling hands away anyway and turning her face to avoid the kisses. “’To-op!” The request to stop was unconvincing, broken as it was by hysterical laughter, but Jean ceased anyway, giggling along with the child.

“You’re a good hider,” she told Marie.

“Uh-huh,” Marie agreed, nodding emphatically. “I a vewy good hider.” She started wriggling in an attempt to get down and Jean almost dropped her, steadying the child with her telekinesis to keep her from slipping right out of her arms. “I hide again!” Marie insisted, and Jean couldn’t help laughing.

“All right, go ahead,” she said, setting the little girl down on the floor and watching as she ran down the hallway, her chubby arms and legs pumping enthusiastically. Barely five steps away, Marie turned and frowned fiercely.

“You not s’posed ta watch!” she protested. “C’ose your eyes!”

Jean did as she was told, covering her eyes with one hand and listening as Marie’s footsteps resumed. She lowered her mental walls to keep tabs on the girl, afraid that she would go somewhere dangerous and Jean wouldn’t see until it was too late.

A different presence brushed against her mind from behind and she whirled toward it, dropping her hand.

“Sorry,” the man said with a half-smirk. “Didn’t mean ta startle ya.”

“It’s all right,” Jean answered, feeling flustered and awkwardly adolescent again at the sight of him. Logan. “I was just playing Hide-n-Seek with the Professor’s granddaughter.”

“So I noticed,” Logan grinned. “Cheatin’, too.”

“I was not!” Jean protested, feeling a hot blush rise to her cheeks. “I just didn’t want her getting hurt while I wasn’t watching.”

Logan’s eyebrow arched and she realized belatedly that he’d been teasing her. She opened her mouth, though she wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to say yet, when they were interrupted by Marie announcing loudly, “I ready! Come find me!”

The voice had come from the coat closet, the exact same place the girl had hidden the other three times, and Logan chuckled. “Don’t actually need to cheat much with this one, do ya?”

“No, not really,” she answered, her voice automatically softening as she spoke to him. He was as handsome as she remembered, maybe even more, and she thought a woman would have to be dead not to feel some kind of pull towards him.

It was a relief to her that the sight of him fluttered her pulse; he was older than she was, not a sixteen-year-old, and it made her feel a little more back to normal to find herself so strongly affected by him. She focused on the feeling and held onto it, reassured by the attraction.

“I was actually lookin’ for her myself,” Logan said, nodding toward the door at the end of the hall that was slightly ajar, a pale face barely visible peeking through the crack. “But it looks like she might be harder t’ find than I thought.” His voice was rich with laughter, and Jean felt a huge smile break across her face as warmth curled in her belly.

“Marie,” she called in a sing-song voice. “Where are you? Somebody here wants to see you.”

There was no space between Jean’s words and the opening of the closet door as Marie came out of her hiding spot, completely forgetting about the game of hide and seek with the lightning-quick attention span natural to toddlers.

“Who?” she wanted to know, her big brown eyes flitting uncertainly between her new friend and the strange man at the end of the hall.

Logan opened his mouth to answer but Jean was faster. “This is Mr. Logan. He’s a friend of your grandpapa’s.”

“Who?” Marie asked again, and Logan frowned. Squatting down so he wouldn’t tower over her, he spoke gently to her.

“Remember me, Marie? I’m Logan.”

“Lo-gan!” she exclaimed, and he hid a smile at the fact that she hadn’t recognized him with the ‘mister’ in front of his name. It seemed appropriate. “You sent me pwesents! On my birfday!” She looked up at Jean with a wide smile and pronounced loudly, “This is Logan. He’s my fwiend!”

Running to him, the three-year-old grasped his large hand between her two tiny ones and leaned back hard, tugging at him. “Come see!” she commanded. “See my bear!”

He’d sent her a teddy bear for her birthday back in February; it was a fairly normal bear, nothing really special about it, except the fact that it was incredibly soft. Ororo had told him that Marie cuddled with it every night and often used it as a pillow.

“Not right now,” he hesitated. He’d told Hank he’d be right down, but had taken a detour to see Marie when he’d heard her in the hallway. Her lower lip trembled with disappointment but she looked down at the floor, accepting his response, and remorse instantly gripped him.

“I’ll come see your bear,” he backtracked, standing and allowing her to pull him along by his hand, nodding politely at Jean as they passed her. Hank would just have to wait.



End Man of Sorrows.

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