Part Fifteen

Kitty turned from the ominous clouds that hovered in the east, a refreshing breeze carrying the scent of rain upon Hermes' winged heels; carrying long-awaited relief from the stifling September heat; carrying the small, garbled cries of the small girl in the room above her. Deep inside, she felt horrible for what she had done, and yet she hadn't been able to help it.

She had waited there for what had seemed like hours, coffee growing tepid, watching the sun rise brilliantly over the eastern horizon, shimmering red through the dark clouds before turning a bright silvery gold, wondering when Logan would come. He had promised, and he never broke his promise. But as the house began to stir, she had heard voices coming from where she knew Logan's room was, and the slow, dawning realization that she had been forgotten hit her like a Tiananmen tank.

Standing, she had fixed her rich, black coffee the way she had assumed Jubilee would like it, and drifted up through the floor. It had not been ten minutes after she had left that the sobering, mournful cries had begun, ripping at where Kitty's heart would be, if she thought she had one. She knew Jubilee was in trouble. She knew that she desperately needed Logan at that moment. She knew that her interference only served to make things worse, and to keep her mentor from her even longer. But she simply couldn't help it.

Picking up the thick Patricia Cornwell novel she had been working on, she moved into the living area, which, thankfully, at this hour was empty. Choosing an overstuffed La-Z-Boy, she settled down to read, but found she could not focus on the words. Jubilee's strangled cries echoed in her ears like the souls of the damned. Standing once again, she left the book face down, open to her place, upon the pillowed chair, and crossed the room to where an old-fashioned barometer was affixed to the wall. Silvery mercury indicated the same pressure that it had the day before, and the day before that. According to the useless instrument, no differing weather conditions were detected.

Running slender fingers through her dark curls, the young woman moved from window to closed window, feeling like a lioness pacing her den, awaiting the time when the guards would release her to slaughter yet another feeble Christian. Closing her large, dusky eyes, she pressed her fist to her teeth, feeling an upper incisor slice through a knuckle and tasting the coppery blood as it spilled into her mouth.

"Kitty?"

She spun to find Hank standing in the doorway, and she quickly swiped at tears she was surprised to discover on her flushed cheeks. She forced a small smile and shoved her hands into the pockets of the faded jeans she wore.

"Hey, Hank," she greeted softly, though her voice trembled and the last word caught on the lump in her throat and dropped into nothingness.

"Kitty, I bring a message from Logan. He regrets to inform you that your rendezvous for coffee must be postponed until after the day has finished its waxing and has begun to wane. Young Jubilee is in a grievous state at the moment, and she is in need of his immediate consideration."

She nodded slightly and looked away, feeling as Ophelia must have as Hamlet cast her aside after so profusely professing his love. Is this what drove people insane? Is this what drove Jubilee to attempted suicide?

"Kitty?"

She glanced back up to find the resident physician still standing before her, concern in his bright blue eyes. She gave him a questioning glance, knowing that if she spoke, her words would come out less than kind.

"Have you ... heard what went on with Jubilee while under Bastion's possession?"

She felt her jaw tighten automatically, and she replied what she had been repeating to herself so often, without much effect, for the past few days, "She was beaten and tortured. Starved. Forced to tell betraying secrets."

"Then you have not as of yet heard the entire story?"

A wave of horror washed over the young woman as she looked up. There was more?

"I have told the girl I would not betray her secret to anyone, but I believe it would be good for you to hear. Sit down."

(Written by Dana Night)

* * * *

Logan was shocked at the life the little girl in his arms told. He'd thought her to be old for her age when he'd met her, later thought her insecure with a brave front to hide it. But now, as she cried out her entire life story to him, all the parts she'd left out for the stories she told, all the pain she'd had as a little girl in California, Logan was speechless with rage, hate, pain and fatherly love for her, clutching her as gently as possible in a hug that he never wanted to end, for her sake as much as his.

"You probably hate me now that you know what I'm really like..." she began to pull away from his hold, her head hung shamefully. He let her go from his strong grip, but held her hand as she sat on her heels, back against the wall. She looked awful; her face had paled to a sickly olive white without the sun, the red splotches where tears had turned the skin clammy shining and her blue eyes looked dull and weary. The bruise colored her left cheek, the healing red gash in the middle an ugly reminder of her desperate jump. Logan had never seen her as thin as she was now, the bones poking against the skin, stretching it out and making her appear fragile and delicate. Her knuckles jutted out of her fingers, bony knobs as she clutched his hand and the thin cotton pyjamas she wore housed the bandaging and tape Logan knew was underneath

"Jubilee, I could never hate ya fer anything ya did or anything that happened to ya." he whispered to her. For all of her thirteen years, she had been through everything Logan had been through in God knows how long he'd lived. Logan knew the state her mind must be in, blaming, hating and the death that could solve it all for her. She moved a bit, shifting as she held her ribs to come slowly back towards him.

"Why don't you blame me for what happened?" she whispered.

"You can't be blamed for wanting to get away from hurt." Logan waited as she sat down beside him again and then squeezed her hand. She tentatively looked at him and then cast her eyes to the blanket below her.

"Why do you act like my parents did then? Why do you leave me alone and not check up on me when you know what happened...?"

"J, I love ya, and that scares me. Everyone I've ever loved has died or turned against me. You are the only person who has been able to live long enough to help me while I can love you. And you do help me...more than anyone has ever helped me, Red included. I'm always scared that something will happen to you and you'll never be able to help me and be loved and love me ever again." Logan paused to take a breath. "And knowing that you went through hell and then finding out is was worse than what you'd told us, it scared me bad to see you. So I stayed away. And I regret it so much J..."

Jubilee leaned forward and hugged him carefully, her ribs pulling in pain and discomfort. She whimpered against her best intentions not to and Logan backed up, holding her steady as another wash of dizziness went over her. "I do love ya Wolvie, but I can't take it here anymore...Remy is nice and Bobby, as much as he tries to be, but having Jean and Kitty and Sabine around is enough. I always get the feeling of pity from them and that's one thing I can't take."

"J, I meant it about taking you away. After your ribs heal up a bit and you can walk better on yer own, I'll take ya to the cabin or my apartment fer a while, to get away. Then you can go back to school and I'll visit whenever you want, for however long you want, no matter what."

"I'm not going back to school." she stated clearly, her hands releasing his. "I can't go back there. I won't leave you again."

"Jubilation..."

"You can't change my mind. I don't feel safe there, I'm alone. Bastion got me there..." her voice petered out as she finished the sentence and tears welled up in her eyes, dripping onto the butter soft cheeks. She shrunk back against the corner and wiped at her eyes as a knock sounded against the door and Jean walked into the room followed by Hank with a comfortable looking wheelchair and a pillow with Pikachu on it.

"Jubilee, why don't you let Jeannie help ya get dressed and washed up while I talk with Hank fer a minute?" Logan slid off the bed and grabbed Jean's arm quickly. He almost silently whispered for her to ignore any scars she saw and be careful with her ribs as she moved to help Jubilee off of the bed to Logan's bathroom in the corner. Hank moved to go outside the door, Logan following after the door to the bathroom was shut with a quiet click.

* * * *

Jean began to run a lavender smelling bubble bath as Jubilee watched from the toilet seat, where she sat and waited. She began to pull at the clips that Logan had slid into her hair earlier out, the cowlicks falling back into her face limply. A slight blush crossed her face as Jean turned around and reached for some towels to place by the toilet.

"Think you can move enough to dry yourself off after?" she smiled delicately and placed them on the counter near the bathtub, the fluffy royal blue towels obviously having come from her room.

"Yeah. Uh..." she blushed again, a slightly deeper red and then ducked her head.

"Think of me as a nurse. I've done this for a few other female members when they've been seriously injured and I help in the Med Lab, so it's not that far from the truth..." Jean went back to checking the water. "And besides, someone has to be with you and it's either me or Logan. I'll do your hair and back and then I brought a book to read while you do whatever else you want."

Jubilee shook her head and Jean turned around so Jubilee could undress and get into the high, bubbly water. Sighing warmly as she slid into the white foam, she smiled a real smile for the first time since Bobby had visited her. "Thank you Jean."

Jean turned around and smiled, walking to the tub. She lathered the young girl's hair with kiwi shampoo as she lay back, wincing at the scratches and her ribs moving. Taking the shower handle, she rinsed the soap out, adding conditioner next. Letting it sit, Jean turned to get her book to read but Jubilee stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"It's okay. I'm covered, I don't mind if we sit and talk or something..." Jean could see the pain and how alone she felt in her eyes, the evidence that talking to Logan had worn her out, but she was starved for someone who loved her to talk with, preferably a female she agreed with.

Jean shrugged and turned back to her. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm sure you're wondering about every single one of these scars." Jubilee whispered slowly.

"No, I know you heard Logan tell me not to ask about them. You're feeling guilty that I won't be able to know or ask and that's why..."

"I guess. But still..." tears formed in her eyes and she wiped them away. Jean reached out to wipe a tear off her cheek, but Jubilee flinched away, unprepared for being touched by anyone but Logan. "No, it's okay..."

(Written by Nova Zion)