Careless Moment, Lifetime Regrets: Part Two

by Kerri

Logan watched the angry kid glare at him from across the med lab. Hank was drawing blood from the boy, preparing to test it against his. He kept shaking his head.

"I'm tellin' ya I don' know yer mother," he said again.

"Yeah, so where did you get the medallion?" Jazz demanded.

One of many mysteries of his past he'd like an answer to himself. Couldn't remember anything. "Don't know."

"I don't believe you."

Jean and Scott stood back watching them.

"I'd say you're his father, Wolverine," Scott told them.

Two furious faces turned towards Cyclops, momentarily united in their anger.

Jean's eyes widened. They looked so much alike. He *was* a younger Logan, a little bigger, his features a little more refined, but the hair and skin coloring matched perfectly. One might mistake one for the other if they turned around. She wondered what the mother looked liked.

"What do you remember?" Thomas asked. The older man looked calm, but Jean could sense the emotion leaping from him. The boy was acting the way Thomas wanted to but didn't dare.

"Not much. Nothing till up to 20-25 years ago. I'd remember if I had a kid."

"Doesn't mean a damn thing, I'm-"

"Quiet!" Thomas's voice cut him off.

To their collective surprise, Jazz did as he was instructed.

Thomas continued in a deceptively even tone. "The medallion is part of a bonding set given to our mother when she married to my father. She gave the male piece to a man she met in Europe during WWII."

"Where you there at that time?" Jean asked Logan.

He tried to remember, struggling against his broken memory. "I don't know, I think so." He glared at Jazz. "Don't explain you."

"I was born in 1942," Jazz spat out at him. "You bastard." His eyes were glowing. Hank released his arm, turning away with the vials of blood. Jazz took the opportunity to launch himself at Logan.

Jean caught him telekinetically, pushing him up against the wall. "I'd say the two of you need to spend some time in the Danger Room."

"Good idea," Scott agreed. "Jean, if you will escort our guest there, I'll send Logan in a moment."

She waited a moment for him to calm himself, then he allowed her to show him out of the room.

They watched the boy leave with Jean, shooting one last glare at Logan.

"I realize he's excitable, but please don't hurt him," Thomas asked Logan. "He's very protective of our mother and I'm afraid all this is happening at a bad time."

"Do ya really think I'm his father?" Logan asked him.

Thomas took a long breath. "For lack of concrete proof, which we will have shortly, yes, I'm afraid I do. That," he gestured to the talisman, "is proof that you knew her." He shook his head at Logan's sputtered protests. "You might not remember now, but she is the only one who could have given that to you."

"I really don't remember her or havin' a kid."

"I believe you."

"I'm not gonna hurt him."

They watched him leave, Scott letting out a sigh.

"How old is Jazz?" Hank asked.

Thomas didn't want to answer the question, but who was he to fool with Fate when it slapped him in the face. "He's 56 years old."

The looks on their faces, and Jean's when she entered, made him rub his forehead and take a seat. He wasn't going to like this, and neither was the old lady. "Charlotte is the child of a human male and a Torelan female. Torelans have a very long lifespans. She's 304 years old."

"Dare I ask how old you are?" Hank raised a brow, continuing to prepare slides for examination.

"I'll be 201 next spring." Damn but he hated this.

"We have been friends for more than 10 years," Hank said quietly. "Charlotte and I have been correspondents for half that time. You never said a word."

"I'm sorry if you feel I've deceived you," Thomas told him, "but this isn't something you can just tell the world. Discretion has become a survival instinct for us. Do you have any idea what would happen if the government got a hold of any one of the three of us? Not only would they be able to prove aliens have visited, but the experiments? Charlotte and Jess are both mutants, too. Think about that."

"That boy is Logan's son," Jean mused, "and he's a mutant?"

"Yes. He heals quickly," the others exchanged looks, "and he has some energy manipulation talent. He's in his teenage years, so to speak, and he's still developing. He's getting stronger."

"That's why you asked about the Snow Valley school," Hank said.

"I'm hoping to get him enrolled there," Thomas told him. "He's not had a formal education, Charlotte home-schooled him, and his powers need some control work she can't provide for him. He needs more interaction with other people of his comparable age."

"You knew all along who we were?" Scott asked. He shot a look at Hank in silent accusation.

The Indian nodded. "I had a hard time getting her to agree to this, now it's going to be almost impossible to convince her to let him out of her sight."

"Why is that?" Jean asked.

"As far as I know, she hasn't seen Jess's father since the war. She thinks he's dead. I don't believe her fondest wish would be to let Jess stay on the same coast with him, much less the same country. She might even leave the hemisphere with him."

"Especially now we can definitely determine his parentage." Hank looked up from what he was doing. "Wolverine is his father."

The boy could fight, he'd give him that. Decent offensive moves, could use some defensive training, gonna work on that with him....

They both stood apart, the boy panting hard, Logan waiting for him to continue. His thoughts startled him. This couldn't be his kid, he didn't have any children. Damn his mother for tellin' the boy lies.

And yet the boy reminded him of himself, the person he struggled to control. Wild, uncontrollable, aggressive. The even-tempered, humorous kid he'd been in the bar must be the mother's influence.

"Y'really want to fight some more?" he asked him.

Jazz's lip curled in a sneer. "Giving up?"

He definitely had nerve. "Nah, we can go all night if ya want, but I figure we got some talkin' to do."

"About what? What you did to my mother?"

Logan let out a breath. "I don't remember yer mother. I got lots of things I don't remember."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Believe whatcha want. I know I wouldn't ever let a kid of mine get away from me. How old are ya, anyway?"

"56." He wanted to believe, he really did. A father. Something Thomas could never be, even though he tried. Something Mom couldn't manage to be, no matter how hard she worked at it. God, he loved them both so much, he couldn't believe they would have kept this from him. Thomas would have killed the man who abandoned their mother, and Mom? She had a variety of ways to make someone pay for crossing her.

Logan blinked. Stranger things happened all the time around here. "Plenty old enough for a beer. Let's go get a couple an' talk this out like men." He peered at the boy's face. "If ya start cryin' I'll whip your ass again."

"You haven't whipped it yet," Jazz retorted. He could like this man. What was Mom going to say? He smiled, earning a strange look from Logan. Whatever Mom was going to say, it wouldn't be at him. Might be fun to watch her go off on someone else for a change.

Hank found them outside in the back, a couple of empty bottles on the ground by their feet. It was obvious they'd been getting to know each other. In light of his news that was a good thing.

"Well, Hank, spill it," Logan told him.

"Logan, what could I possible say that would adequately express the current situation, other than 'Congratulations, it's a boy.'"

They fell silent, then Jazz started laughing. He laughed so hard Logan reached over and tipped his chair, causing the boy to fall out onto the grass. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You're going get it now, old man," Jazz told him between laughs. "Mom's going to kill you."

A frown creased his forward. "Not hardly fair, since I don't know who she is."

"Won't matter. That 'eye for an eye' stuff? I think she invented it."

"Thomas is calling her now."

That sobered up the young man. "Time to make tracks, old man. She'll be here in a couple of minutes."

At their questioning looks, he shook his head. "I'm telling you she gets around pretty quick."

"Wi' her walker?" Logan drawled, cracking open another beer.

"Well, if you don't care about your personal safety, I won't either." Jazz took his seat. "By the way, is it too late to write me into your will?"

[next part]

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