Spirit Quest Chapter 16: Mother's Day by DreamWeaver
Author's note #1: Although SPIRIT QUEST is a sequel to SHADOW MAN in which Logan's trip to Alkali Lake pits him against Magneto, Mystique and Toad, it is an independent story in its own right.
Author's note #2: Hey, if Marvel first says Logan has blue eyes, then in Ultimate X they're black, I can have them green here for the purpose of the story to make them more unusual and distinctive.
"Do you really have to go?"
"Really really?" Casey echoed Kelly's question.
"Yeah, really really. But I'll be keeping my eye on you! You remember Max, don't you?" And Logan caught up the twins, whirled them around, didn't set them down until they were laughing. "So I'm warning you, be good!"
"We will!" they chorused.
"Darlin', bout'chou." He embraced the both of them so hard the baby in her arms squeaked.
"Sorry!"
"It's alright," Kia gasped. "We'll live."
"You do that. Take care of each other." And Kevin looked at him knowingly, gave his chubby, softball smile.
"Where's Connor?"
"I don't know. He stormed off . . . "
"Huh . . . Guess I better go. Hawk's feathers are getting ruffled waiting for me in the truck."
*******
They drove silently through the woods, Logan lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, he lifted his head, sniffed, looked around. "Stop a minute, chief. Be right back."
Connor, knife in hand, was hacking away at the posts supporting the mailboxes. Logan watched a moment, his voice quiet when he spoke. "That me you're cutting up?"
The kid spun around, the knife forgotten as a pent-up burst of foulness spewed from his mouth, finally tricked to a stop, leaving him red and shaking.
"I ought to feel insulted, but most of that's true," Logan said mildly. "Come here."
Connor's upper lip curled back from his teeth. He dropped the knife, suddenly charged, fists flying, butting his head into the man's chest. Logan trapped the kid against his body until the blows weakened and the cursing became racking sobs and the skinny arms circled round to hold him tight. He relaxed his grip into a hug, brushed his lips against the boy's hair.
"It'll be okay. Hawk's an alright guy."
"He's a cop!" Was the kid's muffled protest, and Logan had to smile. "Why do you have to go? I don't want you to go!"
Logan took the boy by the shoulders, pushed him away enough to look him in the eye. "I gotta go and that's the way it is. Understood?" And when there was no response, he shook him a little and pulled him close again. "Understood?"
From the vicinity of his armpit came a quavering, "Ye-e-ah . . . "
Logan put his hand on the boy's head, held it against him. "Lissen, Connor, your mom needs a man at her side. I wish it could be me but right now my life's . . . complicated. I'm not the best choice for her, and I oughta know. Plus, I just found out that some bad news I helped put behind bars has broken free. So I gotta put 'em on ice again, and this time make sure they stay."
"You a cop too?" came the plaintive wail.
He laughed. "Hell no! I'm more like a . . . soldier. I have to go tell my friends what's happened. I don't think they know yet and they could be in danger."
"I guess if you're gonna help somebody then you gotta go," the kid conceded. He released his hold on Logan and stared up at him. "But you'll come back?"
"Soon as I finish this job." Logan studied the boy. "Connor, I'll come back, but I can't stay. Soldiers like me have to move around all the time whether we want to or not. What I'm trying to say is that I'll always be your dad, but Hawk will be your mom's husband and your stepdad. He'll be the man in charge, taking care of all of you, feeding you, supporting you. And loving you if you'll let him."
"I hate him!"
Logan's eyes narrowed. "You've had run-ins with Hawk." The silence said yes. "How many? What for?"
The boy stared at the ground, dragged a toe through the dirt. " . . . two, three. Stealing a little . . . "
"You had to get caught more than once to figure out stealing is stupid? You know better now, right?"
" . . . Yeah."
"Hawk ever say anything about this to your mom?"
The boy shook his head. "Said he would, but he never."
"You hate him for that?" Again, the shake of head. "Connor, there's a lot more hate than love in this world. I've had both. Take my word on this -- love's better. Get all you can, and give it too."
Now the kid looked up. "I wanna be a soldier like you!"
"Fine. Then show me you can follow orders." Logan heard himself bullshitting and found he couldn't stop. As if he ever willingly followed orders! And Connor was caught stealing? He itched to give the dumb kid a couple-three slaps upside the head to straighten him out. But this was his kid and somehow hitting him didn't seem right. Maybe it never was. Damn! He hoped to hell that Chuck's calm, rational method for dealing with trouble wasn't rubbing off on him.
"Here's your first assignment." He forced himself to plod ahead. Dads sure had a tough job! He'd take on Blob and Sabertooth and Magneto any day rather that this. "Give Hawk a hand," Logan now said feelingly. "Especially with the little ones. The poor guy doesn't know much about kids. Make him proud and happy to be your stepdad, and you'll be making me proud and happy too. Also, your mom -- we saw her collapse on us once and for damn sure we don't want it to happen again. With Hawk helping with the finances, she can cut back on work. And I'm telling you this now, Connor, so you'll know how important it is to keep things at home nice and calm . . . there's gonna be a new baby."
"Another one!"
Logan shuffled his feet. "Yeah, well, it happens. You remember that address?" he suddenly demanded.
Logan smiled. "You're going to be seeing that a lot. On letters." He put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Which one's your mailbox?" And when the kid showed him, "That piece of junk? No wonder you don't get any mail. Why a self-respecting bird wouldn't even shit on that thing!"
Connor's laugh wobbled around the edges, but it was a laugh.
"You paint it up good, hear? Paint the others, too, since you like decorating them so much. I'll be back one of these days checking up on you."
The kid gave a jerky smile. "Yeah. Okay." And as Logan smiled back, squeezed the boy's shoulder, and was about to turn away -- "Dad? I made this for you." Connor slipped a thin, rawhide thong over his head, held it out.
Logan took the thong, furrowed his brow as he puzzled over the thing hanging from it. At first glance the object resembled a little bicycle wheel except the rim was made of pine needles lashed together and the thread spokes went every whichway. A couple of tiny feathers and a small stone dangled from the bottom of the rim. "Thanks! You made this . . . uh . . . this for me?"
"It's a dreamcatcher, Dad," Connor informed him. "You hang it by your bed and it catches all the bad dreams. See that hole in the middle? Only the good dreams can get through there."
Logan scrutinized the dreamcatcher, scrutinized the kid, waited.
"Grandfather helped me make it. We prayed and chanted so it'll work real good. You won't ever have any more . . . bad dreams." A rush of blood darkened the boy's cheeks. His eyes slid away, after a moment returned to meet Logan's. "The night you came I listened at the door," he confessed.
"Heard it all, eh?" Logan asked softly.
Mute, Connor nodded.
Logan heaved a sigh. "Well, guess it saves me having to explain it to you later. Now you know why I said my life is complicated. I don't remember a lot of stuff. I didn't even remember your mom -- that shows you how bad off I am! My friends are helping me put together what's missing but . . . Here, this is from that time at Alkali Lake. I figure it's about as old as you." He removed the wolverine tags, draped the chain around the boy's neck, hung the dreamcatcher from his own.
"Wow! Thanks, Dad!"
Logan's smile was crooked. "I don't know if it's as good a gift as yours. I think maybe it brings bad dreams, but . . . I hope it brings you luck . . . son."
Conner looked up, his eyes suddenly shiny as his face twisted in a grimace fighting off tears. He hurled himself at Logan, grabbed him around the middle. The man returned the hug just as fiercely. After a bit they pulled apart, redeemed themselves with a formal handshake.
In the pickup once more, Logan watched in the side mirror how the dust from Hawk's truck swallowed up the boy, the mailboxes, the road. Damn! The kid actually liked him! He fingered the dreamcatcher. If these things really work, I probably need one as big as a circus tent! was his sardonic thought. Then out of nowhere Christmas hit him between the eyes. Damn! Presents -- Okay, he could handle that, 'sides, Christmas was more than seven months away. He wasn't going to let Hawk have all the fun with the kids, not by a long shot. But birthdays -- Damn! He didn't know the kids' birthdays, or even Kia's. Today's date, though, he was certain of.
Logan settled back against the cracked vinyl seat and closed his eyes. In his mind he saw again the little heart pendant whittled from cherry wood that he had fashioned with the claws, expending much blood, sweat, and profanity on the project. For the claws were accustomed to carving out brutal slaughter, not delicate beauty. Kia would find his gift on her pillow tonight. The thought of her surprised smile made him feel warm. Eyes still closed he smiled too, and although as of today he had a whole year to decide, he gave himself the pleasure of considering what to make Kia for next Mother's Day.
With a start he realized he was making plans for the future. Damn!
All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.