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FIC: "Keeping Faith" (PG-13) 5/5

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  • Mina-Clare Moseley
    Last part! Remember, I LIVE for feedback. Title: Keeping Faith By: Mina-Clare Moseley Characters (in order screen time): Logan/Wolverine, Dr. Michaela St.
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 29, 2000
      Last part! Remember, I LIVE for feedback.

      Title: Keeping Faith
      By: Mina-Clare Moseley
      Characters (in order screen time): Logan/Wolverine, Dr. Michaela St.
      Matthews (OFC), Rogue, Cyclops, Dr. Jean Grey, Storm, Professor Charles
      Xavier, Sabretooth
      Synopsis: While searching for his past, Logan meets a mutant woman.
      Rating: PG-13. Language and violence.

      Disclaimer: Logan, Professor Xavier and all things X-Men belong to Marvel
      Comics. The movie was made by 20th Century Fox, so they deserve some credit
      to. Basically, I don't own 'em, never claimed to either.

      Author's Note: Infinate thanks go out to my X-Friends, Fre and Mac. Also,
      many thanks to Pablo, who helped me edit and work out plots.

      Xavier and Rogue felt relief wash over them as the Blackbird landed. Xavier
      could sense all four of his X-Men inside the jet. He also sensed Logan's
      female companion.

      Storm and Cyclops got out. Cyclops leaned back in the jet, gently picking
      up the injured Michaela. Logan and Jean followed them.

      "Logan!" Rogue yelled. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. She
      was very careful of all the exposed skin he had.

      He patted her on the back lightly. "Hey kid. Told you I would be back. I'm
      guessing it was you who initiate the rescue?"

      She nodded, looking over at the winged female. "Is she okay?"

      Jean shrugged helpless. "I need to get her to the infirmary now. Come on,

      "Help her," Logan whispered. "She's a good kid."


      Michaela felt like shit. She groaned, trying to sit up. Pain shot through
      every bone in her body. Thinking better of it, she laid back down. A
      beautiful woman approached her, leaning over. "Good morning, Doctor. How
      are you feeling?"

      "Like the Coyote after he fails to catch the Road Runner," she groaned.
      "Who are you?"

      "Dr. Jean Grey. You had us worried. Logan's been pacing all day."

      "Logan." she sat up. Jean watched as her mouth opened. No sound came out.
      The doors to the infirmary opened. Logan ran in.

      "She's awake. I thought I heard her." Logan knelt by her side. "How you
      doin', Doc?"

      Michaela sighed. "Been better."

      He held up the silver crucifix. "This is yours."

      She wrapped her fingers around the cross. "Thank you. I thought I had lost

      Jean stopped her as Michaela tried to get off the table. "Don't move,
      Doctor. You're still fairly injured."

      "This is the school you told me about, Logan?"

      "Yes. Xavier's School for the Gifted," was the reply. It did not come from
      Logan. She turned, seeing the elder, but handsome, wheel-chair-bound man
      enter. "I am Charles Xavier. It's nice to meet you, Dr. St. Matthews."

      "Everyone here is a mutant?"

      He nodded. "Jean, Logan... May I speak to Dr. St. Matthews alone?"

      Jean and Logan nodded. Logan rubbed Michaela's head. "Take care, Doc." they
      left the infirmary.

      Michaela smiled weakly at Xavier. "So, what's bothering you, Charles?"

      "You call everyone by their first name?"

      She nodded. "In legend, if a faerie spoke your first name, it gave them
      power over you. It is an actual truth. When I speak your first name, you
      trust me more."

      Xavier rolled over to the side of the bed. "You are an interesting woman,
      Dr. St. Matthews. I would like you to remain here at the school."

      "I don't require any more school, Charles."

      He nodded. "I am not asking you to attend my school, Michaela. The students
      here are very emotionally distraught. They are still trying to cope with
      their powers. Jean and I help them whenever we can. However, we are not
      counselors. You, on the other hand, are a licensed psychotherapist. You
      also have empathic powers to aid you. I would like you to council my

      Michaela licked her lips. "You would give me a place to live.... I wouldn't
      have to hide my wings.... In exchange for giving therapy to the students?"


      "May I think about this?"

      "Of course."


      Rogue took in a deep breath. She stood in front of Logan's door, staring at
      the solid oak. She raised her hand to knock, hesitating.

      "You comin' in, Kid?" he called.

      Rogue grasped the handle, opening it. Logan growled, pushing the computer
      monitor off his desk. It cracked and sparked.

      "That's school property, you know."

      He growled. "It's school junk now."

      She slipped the chain off of her neck. She handed the silver dogtags back
      to Logan. "I promised to give these back."

      He closed his fist around the tags, shutting his eyes. Rogue sat on the
      bed. "You haven't decrypted the disk yet?"

      "I'm no good at this hackin' shit." He took the disk out. "It's all here,
      Rogue. I just can't get t' it."

      "Maybe someone else should try decrypting," she said gently. "Kitty Pryde
      is good at this computer stuff."

      "I'll ask her," he whispered.

      Rogue smiled. "It'll be okay, Logan. You'll get the information about your

      "It's not trying getting it that I'm worried about, Kid."


      Logan watched the hooded figure leave the mansion. The entire body was
      cloaked by a cape. He smiled. She couldn't escape him. He followed behind

      She was on foot. There was not much around here. Where in the world did she
      think she was going?

      She shed her cloak about five minutes outside of mansion. Her wings
      unfurled. Logan watched as she lifted up in the air, starting to fly. Was
      she running away? Without a word?

      Logan sped up to keep up with her fast flying. His keen animal senses would
      not fail him. He was a skilled hunter. No one-- Not even a woman-- Could
      escape him.

      They got to town. Michaela hovered above a building. Logan stared at it. It
      was old, ornate. A large cross rested on top of it. It was St. Mary
      Immaculate Catholic Church.

      Michaela sat on perched on the ledge. She put her cape back on. Leaping
      down, she used her wings to cushion her fall. Logan ducked into the alley,
      so she would not see him.

      He followed her into the church. Once inside, he realized she had disappeared.


      Michaela sat down in the confessional. She lowered her head. "Forgive me
      father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession."

      "That is not very long, my child."

      She clutched the cross in her hand. Spots of blood still marred its shine.
      "I am an abomination in the eyes of God."

      "What makes you believe that, my child?"

      She shut her eyes, fighting back tears. "I am.... A mutant. I can feel
      emotions. I.... I look like an angel. I have wings. A human should not look
      like an angel."

      "My child, God chose your form. He chose to make you a human angel. You
      must make it your mission to serve humanity. There is a school about a mile

      "--Professor Xavier's. I know of the school. I am staying there. I should
      remain there?"

      "Yes. Is there anything else, my child?"

      Michaela bit her lip. "I met a man a few days ago. He is like me; a mutant.
      I have had lustful thoughts about him."

      "Are you in love with him?"

      She turned to the grate in surprise. No priest had ever asked her such a
      question before. She thought she would just get a reprimanding. "I- I don't
      know. Maybe. I've never been in love before."

      "Have you taken action on these thoughts?"

      "No...." Michaela blushed. "I never could."

      "Then I have no reason to reprimand you."

      Michaela smiled. "Thank you, Father." she started to stand.

      "My child?"

      "Yes father?"

      "May.... May I see your.... Mutation?"


      She stepped out of the confessional. When she turned, the priest was
      standing next to her. He was a young man, with dark hair and eyes.

      He put his hands on the clasp of her cape, undoing it. It fell to the
      floor, revealing her wings. He took in a deep breath.

      "They are.... Extraordinary."

      "Thank you, Father."

      He took her hand. "It is Father Francis Riley, my child. What is your name?"

      "Michaela. Michaela St. Matthews."

      "Will I see you on Sunday, Michaela St. Matthews?"

      She smiled. "Probably."

      She started to walk up the aisle, her soul finally at ease. Her wings also
      felt so much better free from the cape.

      "Didn't know ya were devout," a voice rumbled.

      She jumped as Logan stood up from one of the pews. She stared at him, her
      mouth open. "You followed me!"

      "Wanted to make sure ya weren't rabbitin' yet, Darlin'."

      She smiled. "You seem nervous."

      He looked around. "Can't get anythin' past you, Doc. Never been in a church

      "Never?" She licked her lips. She took his hand. "Come with me."

      He followed her to the altar. She lit a candle, then knelt down. Logan
      watched her. She clasped her hands around her crucifix, then bowed her head.

      "Yer gonna pray?"

      She nodded. "It helps me. Faith is very important, Logan. It doesn't matter
      what the religion.... Just as long as you have faith in something."

      "I have faith in me," he replied, kneeling.

      Michaela smiled. "It's a start."


      Jean led Michaela through the corridor of the school dorm rooms. "Have you
      decided if you are staying yet, Doctor?"

      Michaela shook her head. "No. I'm just not sure about staying in one place.
      I haven't in such a long time. And you can call me Kaela, Jean."

      Jean nodded. "It would be a great help if you did, Kaela." She stopped in
      front of a door, opening it. The room was clean, uninhabited. "You can stay
      in here." She open the closet. "There's some clothes you can wear in her,
      and the drawers."

      "Thank you, Jean."

      Jean turned, closing the door behind her. Michaela sighed, taking a pillow
      from the bed. She sat down, hugging it close.

      There was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called out.

      The door opened and Logan came in. He shut it behind him, leaning against
      it. "You stayin'?"

      "Considering it. What about you?"

      He shrugged. "I'm not much fer stayin' in one place."

      "You're full of it," she said. She threw the pillow aside, crossing her legs.

      "Oh am I?" Logan crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

      "You want to belong as much as I do." Michaela smiled. "I don't think you
      have any desire to be a wanderer. You're like me, Logan."

      "We're alike, Darlin'?" he grabbed her arms gently, pulling her up to him.
      "Then how come ya don't know if ya wanna stay?"

      "I've been wandering for so long. I don't think I would know what to do in
      one place."

      Logan let go of her. "Maybe we are alike."

      "I'll make you a deal," Michaela whispered. She sat back down. "I'll stay
      as long as you do."

      "I don't think I like that."

      "Come on, Logan..." Michaela took the cross off her neck. "I know you want
      to stay here. It's like I told you before. You need to have faith." she
      placed the cross in his hand. "You have faith in yourself. Now have faith
      in the X-Men.
      Believe that they can give you what you need."

      He clutched the crucifix. The image of Christ dying for humanity. That's
      what would probably happen to the X-Men. "It's deal. I'll hang around as
      long as you do."

      He dangled the necklace in front of Michaela. "Here."

      She shook her head. "You keep it."


      The laboratory was in rubble. Storm's fire had left an empty, broken shell.

      A groan escaped from a pile of destruction. A hand reached out of it. It
      was burnt, but healing. Claws dug at the wreckage.

      "Wolverine...." Sabretooth growled. He was going to pay.

      "It wasn't a nightmare. You really are the president."
      --Charlie, "The West Wing" "Celestial Navigations"

      Mina-Clare Moseley

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