Title: Ghost of Time

Author: Sorcieré (hack_heaven@usa.net)

Disclaimer: If they wanna sue me, they’ll have to catch me first.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: R/L

Series: None. Absolutely not.

WARNING: It’s not exactly fluffy, okay? There’s character-death, though only implied.

Archive: You can take it, as long as you give me the addy.

Summary: “After.” “After what?” “After loss.” “Loss?” “And love.” “And more?” “Yes...Time. After time.”

 

Karen and Terri – remember I swore that I would get even when you conned me into writing another ‘Dr. Love’–letter? You only have yourselves to blame *eg*

I’d like to apologize in advance for this, okay? This is, without doubt, the weirdest fic I have EVER written. I wasn’t even sure I was gonna post it, but I decided that this would be an excellent change to get even with Karen and Terri. (And what have we learned from this, grrls? Do not blackmail Sorcieré – she might bite back ;-)

 

 

A/N: It’s strange. It’s strange and probably won’t make much sense until you’ve read it all. Oh, yeah – and don’t kill me, okay? This is just kind of an experiment. I’ve taken certain artistic liberties, mostly because no one knows just *how* old someone with a healing factor really gets – a century, a millennium...more? I mean, Logan’s adamantium skeleton is toxic and he still heals with a phenomenal speed. Imagine the possibilities if he *didn’t* have the metal in him. I also used the cliché that if Marie held on to Logan for long enough, she would develop her own set of bone claws. (Hey! She did in UXM 388! ;-)

 

A/N 2: If any of you have read David Eddings’ “Queen of Sorcery” – the part where Polgara contemplates the fate of Vo Wacune – you’ll know where I got my inspiration. And what to expect.

 

/.../ Flashback

‘...’ Marie’s thoughts

_..._ Logan’s thoughts

 

*                    *                      *

 

”More than any time in history mankind faces a crossroads.  One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness, the other to total extinction.  Let us pray that we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”

Woody Allen

 

*                    *                      *

 

A lone shadow stepped over an irregular chunk of marble. The marble had once been white, but now only a bit of the original color was visible under the thick layer of moss. The dark green from that soft moss was only a nuance among thousands, ranging from the palest green – almost white – to the near black of a lonely pine-tree.

 

The sky was an odd bluish-gray – the color one only sees when the endless blue of the autumn sky is hidden by the thinnest of clouds, feather-like and pale as ice.

 

The lone shadow stepped out of the darkness of the forest, revealing the face of a young woman with short, auburn hair and two streaks as white as the marble once had been.

 

‘It’s been a long time since we last visited this place. A very long time.’

 

_I know._

 

The woman walked across the large, natural clearing, then stopped as she reached more chucks of marble. Unlike the first one, these chucks had evaded the ever-present moss so their round, smooth surface was clearly visible. Lying together as they did, it was obvious that these round stones were part of what was once an impressive pillar.

 

The woman stopped next to the white pillar, kneeled and caressed the white marble gentle for a moment with a faraway look in her eyes.

 

‘One. There’s only one left. The other must be hidden somewhere among the trees.’

 

_Or maybe this is the only well-preserved one. Couldn’t that rubble we just passed be part of the other?_

 

‘Maybe.’

 

A sigh.

 

‘They seemed so impressive when I first saw them...they looked like they would remain standing until the end of time.’

 

_They did. Time ended a long time ago._

 

‘It didn’t. The sun still rises, the moon still wanders across the night-sky.’

 

_But no one counts the days, the weeks or the months anymore._

 

‘No one but us.’

 

The woman stood up and headed for a large, tall mound amidst the trees. As she stepped into the darkness once more, the outside sounds – the wind, the animals – became strangely muted, a mere echo, as fewer and fewer sounds was able to penetrate the thick layer of leaves and branches.

 

She reached an almost impenetrable wall of plants and stopped. The sound of bones cutting through flesh tore through the heavy silence, followed by the distinctive sound of plants being cut to shreds. Then silence reigned once again.

 

The woman rubbed her knuckles for a moment, then kicked the plants aside and followed a trail that only she could see.

 

‘It’s amazing that they’re so naturally sharp. I always thought it was because of the metal.’

 

_Me, too, darlin’._

 

She slid gracefully through the shadows, between the thick tree trunks and the occasional logs - some hollow from years of exposure to the weather - until she reached a green wall of leaves and branches. Resolute, she drove six claws into the living barrier and tore her way into the plants. Then she retracted the claws, pushed the shredded curtain aside and stepped into a large clearing.

 

This wasn’t a natural clearing; that much was obvious. Its rectangular shape was maintained by the white, gray and reddish walls that rose high from the surrounding surface. In some places, like the area where the woman stood, the walls had crumbled and allowed the forest access, but mostly the walls stood tall and proud among the trees.

Inside the clearing grew a few tree and bushes, but not as much as outside the walls, and in here the ground was covered by a green and brown carpet of knee-high grass.

 

Slowly the woman walked to the middle of clearing, her brown eyes taking in every wall, every pile of rubble, every sign that this place was once inhabited. A dirty piece of broken glass that had found its final resting-place on a pile of eroded bricks. The faintest hint of paint on a stone that miraculously had remained sheltered from the rain and wind for all these years.

 

She kneeled and buried her hands in the wet earth and for a long moment just focused on the feeling of grass, soil and rubble, all combined in a handful of earth.

 

Then she dug her hangs deep into the ground, let her fingers feel their way through the wet earth, in search for something...anything.

 

The first thing she found was a piece of glass, its once so sharp edge dulled by of erosion. She picked it up and gently brushed the earth away. The glass was no longer clear, but instead a pale, brownish color. She wondered where it came from, and decided that it was probably the remains of a window, seeing as the glass was flat and strangely smooth.

 

Glass...

 

 

/...”Hey, guys! You sooo gotta see this!” Jubilee yelled through the door. Kitty and Rogue exchanged a look and walked into the room.

 

“Jubes?” Kitty asked. Jubilee just grinned and dragged them to the window.

 

“Look.”

 

“Oh, God!” Rogue laughed.

 

Outside, on the field, the boys were involved in something that had probably started as a water-fight, but had quickly turned into a mud bath instead. St. John chased Bobby with a hose, but constantly had to duck to avoid the snowballs his prey threw.

 

“HEY! Jonny! Having fun??” Jubilee screamed as she hung halfway out of the open window.

 

St. John looked up and grinned slowly.

 

“Uh, oh...” Kitty muttered and backed away.

 

Five seconds later a shower of water hit Jubilee, who’d failed to close the window in time.

 

“FLAMEHEAD! This means WAR!” she squealed, and Rogue and Kitty collapsed on the floor, laughing until they were out of breath.../

 

 

The woman shook her head and gently lay the small piece of glass on the ground. Then she dug her fingers into the earth again, feeling, searching for something that had once been part of this place.

 

She felt something by her fingertips and took a steady grip on...whatever it was. Swiftly, she dug out the object and the earth that surrounded it. With gently movements she brushed the clay and soil away, until she felt something hard. It was definitely iron. Rusty to the point where it was next to impossible to guess what it might have been used for.

 

Underneath the dense layer of clay and earth, the iron-chunk turned out to be shaped as an X. It could have been anything – a belt-buckle, a sign on a long gone door – but it didn’t matter what it had been used as. It only mattered that it was there.

 

For a long moment the woman just held the rusty symbol in her hand, touched it gently as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.

 

 

/...”Wait, wait! What the fuck do ya mean with ‘virus’?” Logan demanded.

 

“I mean that the virus the FOH let out into the air has mutated – it isn’t just dangerous to mutants anymore!” Jean snapped, a sure sign of how stressed she was.

 

“Isn’t there some sort of antidote?” Scott asked.

 

Jean shook her head.

 

“There was. It doesn’t work on the mutated virus,” she whispered and sat down, having suddenly lost all the strength in her body.../

 

 

The woman took a sharp breath and forced herself to return from the memories of a past long gone. Then she placed the iron-letter on the ground next to the glass-shard, and for the third time she dug into the ground.

 

A burning pain ran through her arm as something tore into her hand.

 

“Hurts...” she whispered, her voice oddly weak, as if speaking was something she wasn’t used to. She didn’t bother to check on her hand – the wound would have healed before it could bleed even a single drop of blood.

 

She grabbed the offending object and pulled it out of the ground. It was a syringe. Dirty and muddy, but without any visible rust.

 

_It’s gotta be made of adamantium._

 

‘Yeah. There were a few of those in the lab.’

 

 

/...”There’s nothing I can do, Logan. She’s infected, just like everyone else is. I’m sorry,” Jean whispered.

 

Logan growled and lashed out, sending a metal-table flying through the air.

 

“There’s gotta be *something* ya can do! Yer the doctor, damnit!” he yelled.

 

Jean paled and took a small step back.

 

“I’m sorry, Logan...”

 

Logan slammed the door open and stalked out of the room.../

 

 

The woman looked at the syringe for a long moment, then put it back in the small hole she’d made in the ground. A moment of thought, then she put the glass and the iron-symbol next to the syringe and covered it with earth.

 

 

/...ashes to ashes, dust to dust.../

 

 

She stood up and looked around. The clouds seemed darker than before and the wind was slightly colder.

 

_We better find someplace dry._

 

‘Yeah. Just...in a moment, okay?’

 

_Anything, baby. Anything._

 

Anything...

 

 

/...A kiss, the forbidden, impossible kiss. Their world spun around, their thoughts became as one, as their lips joined in the dance that would be the end...and the beginning. In that moment between life and death, they stepped outside time, had forever exiled themselves from the world.

 

Thoughts whirled around them like snowflakes in a blizzard, colorful flowers among dead autumn leaves. Their souls joined in one body, never alone, always together as one, yet two. Timeless, ageless, they watched as the world around them crumbled.../

 

 

_Ya regret it, darlin’?_

 

‘Never, sugar. Not for a second.’

 

_Yer not lonely or anythin’?_

 

She laughed.

 

‘Yer ask me that every decade like a clockwork, loverboy. And the answer’s the same – No. I’m never alone. Not with y’all to keep me company.’

 

Two ghost-hands brushed along her body and she leaned into his touch, attuned to his presence as she was.

 

_Always together._

 

‘Always.’

 

They remained like that for a long time, just enjoying each other’s company.

 

_They’re nearby._

 

She looked up sharply.

 

‘Really? How far away?’

 

_Three miles, maybe. I can smell ‘em._

 

‘How strange. They never get this close. They think the place is cursed or somethin’.’

 

_”Or somethin’”?_

 

She grinned.

 

‘I might’ve given ‘em a little scare last time they dared to venture in here.’

 

_That was a long time ago, darlin’. Guess they must’ve forgotten the legend of the ‘Death that walks the Place that Was’_

 

More laughter.

 

‘We pulled that one off pretty damn fine, didn’t we?’

 

_Damn right._

 

She sighed.

 

‘It sad, though, isn’t it? One - *one* - mutated virus was all it took to send mankind back to the Bronze Age.’

 

_There’s nothin’ we could’ve done, darlin’. There was too few left of ‘em. Somethin’ was forgotten with each generation._

 

‘But we remember.’

 

_We don’t follow the same rules that they do, baby. They die. We don’t._

 

‘Maybe...maybe they’ll do better this time.’

 

_It’s not in the human nature to learn from its mistakes._

 

‘Cynic.’

 

_I prefer ‘realist’_

 

She smiled.

 

‘Yer hopeless’

 

The smile disappeared and she reached out to touch one of the trees that had dared to grow in the clearing.

 

‘The trees came here so quickly, didn’t they? I thought it would take a lot longer before...before they reclaimed the land.’

 

_It’s been seven centuries, baby. That’s a long time._

 

‘Not for us.’

 

_No._

 

‘It feels like yesterday. I can...I can almost feel them around us. I keep imagine that I can see ‘em out of the corner of my eyes, an’ that if I turn ‘round fast enough, they’ll really be there.’

 

_I know, darlin’. I know._

 

The woman took one last look at the ruins, then turned around and disappeared into the dark forest.

 

Behind her, only silence was heard.

 

Then a bird sang a wary trill, found no danger and launched into a full-blown symphony. Soon after, other birds joined in. Unseen to anyone but Time itself, the plants slowly, ever so slowly, began to repair the damage that had been done.

The marble continued its slow erosion, one molecule at a time.

Species evolved, each generation being just slightly different than the previous.

The river of time continued its endless flow, no longer hindered by the dams of years, decades, or even eons, but just flowing, being, as it was meant to, having only a beginning and an end, with nothing – or everything – in between.

 

Eventually, the forest would reclaim the clearing.

Eventually, the walls of the once so grand mansion would surrender to erosion.

 

And eventually, in time, two immortal souls in the body of one young woman would return to the place they once called home.

 

*                    *                      *

 

~Fin~

 

*                    *