Kaddish
Chapter 2
by
Rocky-Cat
Disclaimer: Logan, Professor X, the Beast, and any other X-men are Marvel characters and they retain all rights. I am simply borrowing them for a while. I do not stand to make any money from this story. All non-Marvel characters are my own creation.
Archive: At will, with proper attribution.
Author's note: I began this story while dealing with a painful personal loss. Within days of finishing I experienced another family loss. This is dedicated to someone whose presence will never have the chance to grace our world and another whose presence was a blessing to all who knew him. Perhaps the circle is complete.
A short glossary of terms found in this piece of fiction can be found at the end of the chapter.
The clock shone 3 A.M. as Logan rocketed into wakefulness. He was sweating and, from the looks of his bed, had been tossing around violently. He growled and tried to clear his head of the disturbing images left over from his dream. He'd been walking across a meadow with Rayzel, only it wasn't Rayzel, they'd both been dressed oddly, and they'd been singing, of all things. Then she was screaming horribly but Logan was frozen in place, unable to do anything. Just as quickly he was now standing over her dead body, watching the life's blood run from her numerous wounds. His grief was overwhelming and he howled his pain both in his conscious and unconscious state.
It was obvious he wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night. The best treatment for nightmares, he had found, was pushing his mind and body to the limit and fortunately the Danger Room offered 24/7 service.
Grunting, swearing, and screaming, Logan bulled his way through a tough workout involving Sentinels, aliens, Reavers, and who knew what else. He'd exercised his body but still couldn't exorcise the demons plaguing his mind. By 6 A.M. he gave up and returned to his room for a shower.
Scott, on his way down to breakfast, passed Logan and noted his sweaty workout clothes. "Been in for a training session, Wolverine? Nice to see. We can all use more practice on our combat skills."
Logan turned a frightening glare on him and snarled, "Go to hell, Summers," before pushing his way past him down the hall.
Scott took no note, assuming that, as usual, Wolverine's foul mood was simply another manifestation of his charming personality, and continued on his way.
The next night was the same story, only worse. In the dream, this time, there was heap after heap of dead bodies, peasants all. There were disjointed impressions of Logan singing - no, praying - together with a group of men, of birds flying across farmland, of books lying scattered and torn, wooden buildings in flames, and once again the dark haired girl lay dead in the street and Logan stood by impotently, reaching out but unable to touch. This time, though, the faint sounds of that prayer he'd heard in Brooklyn were audible throughout the dream. Desperately, he grabbed at any syllable, hoping to capture a word or make sense of the meaning. A devastating sense of loss tore through him as the sounds disappeared and he was left with nothing but raw pain.
Another draining session in the Danger Room and another day of anguish. His teammates were beginning to notice his unusually haggard look. Storm made some sensible mothering-type noises and Logan could just smell Gambit aching to make some smart comment. For once, though, the Cajun showed enough sense to keep his yap shut. He would have had an awfully tough time dragging cigarette smoke into his lungs with ten inches of adamantium through them. The Professor just looked at him thoughtfully and said nothing.
Another night and Logan was dreading the prospect of sleep. The nightmares would be back, he was sure. He tried meditating once again, hoping for anything that would clear his mind and give him enough peace to get some rest. The exhaustion was beginning to take its toll, though, and Logan had no choice but to succumb once again to sleep.
*LOGAN! You must wake up!* Professor X's voice in his head cut through the red haze of pain and violence that had wrapped itself around him. As his vision cleared he looked around the room and saw that this time, in his sleep, he had lashed out at the unseen attackers and had slashed though his bedding and some of the furniture. A chair lay in splinters, pillows were split open raggedly, and the sheets were a tangled mass of thready streamers. He retracted his claws and realized his throat was raw from screaming.
Logan sank down on his ruined bed and dropped his head into his hands. *Chuck,* he called out mentally, *ya gotta help me. Please!*
Glossary
bet din - court of religious law composed of three Rabbis who rule on religious matters
goyim - non-Jews, not necessarily a pejorative term
Kaddish - "Sanctification," the Jewish prayer for the dead recited by mourners, composed in Aramaic
mama'le - "little mother," a term of endearment used either to an actual maternal parent or a little girl
nu - untranslatable, generally used as a verbal prompt
Shabbos - the Sabbath, lasting from sundown Friday night to sundown Saturday night
shul - synagogue
Vilna - present-day Vilnius, Lithuania, a city once renowned as a great seat of Jewish learning
Yisgadal v'yiskadash, etc. - the beginning words of the Kaddish
The prayer translates as follows:
May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified in the world that He created as He willed. May He give reign to His kingship in your lifetimes and in your days, and in the lifetimes of the entire Family of Israel, swiftly and soon. Now respond: Amen.
Amen. May His great Name be blessed forever and ever.
Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One, Blessed is He beyond any blessing and song, praise and consolation that are uttered in the world. Now respond: Amen.
May there be abundant peace from Heaven, and life, upon us and upon all Israel. Now respond: Amen.
He Who makes peace in His heights, may he make peace upon us, and upon all Israel. Now respond: Amen.*
* translation taken from The Complete ArtScroll Siddur, copyright 1984 Mesorah Publications, Ltd.
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