A Memory of Death
by
Zerelda X


X-Men belong to Marvel, Charlotte is mine. For entertainment purposes only.

---

"Henri, c'n I talk to y' f'r minute?"

Hank glanced at the wall clock to see it was well past midnight, then turned around in his chair to find Remy in the doorway of his office. The young man's face was dark and angry, a manila folder held carefully in his hands.

"Of course. Please, come in." He gestured to the other chair, then realized it was piled high with papers and files. After moving them to stack on the floor by his desk, he offered the seat again.

Gambit closed the door behind him, but refused to sit just yet. "Dis serious, an' I doan want no one knowin'."

"I understand. Are you feeling well?" He ran a professional eye over the other man, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Not Gambit." Remy looked down at the file now crumpling in his hands, struggling with the decision. With an effort, he loosened his hold on it. "I start at de beginning, eh?"

Hank nodded and sat back, giving Remy his attention. The young Cajun rarely allowed such a serious attitude to interfere with his quest to enjoy life along with saving the world on a regular basis. Whatever bothered him had to be important.

"Couple weeks ago, Stormy say she see Char in de locker room an' she hurt pretty bad. She tell me, but we know she an' Logan train hard. Dey use trainin' like foreplay, so I t'ink not'ing 'bout it den."

"Yes, we do," Hank agreed.

"Last week, I hug her an' she jump almost clear out her skin. She say I scare her. How y' scare a 'path, an' one who see y' comin'?"

"Today, Charlotte get a phone call she not here for, so Gambit take de message. Doctor office, wantin' her t' come back for 'nother 'pointment. I t'ink not'ing 'bout it, but I give her de message. She get short wit' me, an' den she get mad when I ask if she okay."

"It's her right to seek outside medical assistance, Gambit," Hank reminded him, feeling a little concerned that she wouldn't have come to him first as she had in the past.

"I know, but dis Charlotte, she doan get mad like dat. She been acting funny, too. Summer outside, an' she cover up like she's Rogue. She doan smile much no more. Somet'ing wrong."

Hank eyed the folder still clutched in Remy's hands. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Oui. I take a li'l look."

"I will refrain from telling you, Gambit, that not only have you committed a crime by entering a doctor's office illegally, but you've also invaded a patient's right to privacy."

Remy shrugged. "Look at dis an' tell Gambit he ain' seein' it right.

This was becoming all too frightening. He reached for the file. "Is there something illness related?" Hank lived in fear that one of his teammates would contract Legacy, or any other of the myriad of viruses that would be beyond his capabilities to cure. "If Legacy had been suspected, that would have become quickly known; however, I'm not at all certain her physiology would be susceptible to the same -"

"Not sick." Remy didn't let go of the file just yet. "Dis stays b'tween us now."

Hank looked into the dark eyes, the red pupils blazing with an unresolved anger. This was serious enough for Gambit to lose his customary nonchalance. "I will agree, as long as there is no need to discuss this with anyone else."

Finally, Remy sat down and gave him the folder. "I t'ink Jeannie know. She been watchin' dem some, an' I seen her try talkin' to Char. She almost not walk away from dat li'l chat."

Hank opened the folder and read the meager contents. After several long minutes, he set it back down on his desk, his eyes darkening as he struggled to keep a professional attitude.

"Well?" Remy prompted him. "Tell me dat don't say what I saw."

The doctor cleared his throat. "It appears that the Lady Charlotte has been seen by Dr. Zaida Jacobo for several injuries in the last two months. The latest appointment was eight days ago, at which time she was treated for three fractured ribs. Charlotte was prescribed mediation for pain at that time, and it was refused. There also appears to be extensive bruising of the chest, arms and back." He frowned. "There is also a note that many of the contusions are in the shapes of hands and fingers, and wounds that appear to have been caused by nails or claws. The doctor also states that the suggestion to file a police report was firmly rejected."

"She been beaten, oui?"

"It appears so," Hank admitted. "Most of these injuries could have been sustained in her training regime with Wolverine. They are quite enthusiastic with their combat." He reread a portion of the report. "You believe that Logan is doing this to her?"

"Non. Dis not his style. But who den? Somebody hurtin' her an' I want t' know who. Why she go outside f'r help?"

"I don't have an answer for that. I agree this is not in character for either of them. She would not be a willing victim, nor would Logan commit such an act on her. He adores her, we all have seen the extent of his regard. His honor would not allow him to behave in this way."

"If y' got 'nother answer....?"

"I have none." Hank shook his head. "I simply find it hard to believe. I've known Logan for a long time, Gambit. Even during his darkest times, he would never have battered an innocent woman. I also find it hard to believe he hasn't noticed injuries of this type on her. She must be telepathically preventing him from seeing them."

"I know, but what 'bout Char? Why she doan say somet'ing?"

"It could be she is seeking medical attention elsewhere to avoid his learning of her injuries. He would have brought her here to me, otherwise."

"She could come here an' y' heal her quick wit' de Shi'ar tech."

"There are few confidences kept when more than one person knows the secret," Hank told him, his mild tone masking the concern he felt. "It would be far simpler for someone to discover that here."

"She been hidin' somet'ing, time to find out what. Who's goin' talk t' her?"

~*~*~*~*~

Charlotte answered a request to meet Hank in his office the next morning.

"Hi." She greeted him with a warm smile, pausing in the doorway. "Can we make this quick? I'm due down in the Danger Room in about five minutes for a team simulation." She leaned against the door jamb. "What can I do for you?"

"I've already informed Cyclops that you won't be participating today. Please, sit down."

She didn't move. "Why?"

"Please?"

Finally, she nodded and sat down, puzzled but not unduly upset.

Hank tried to smile back and failed. "I need to speak to you, my dear." He looked her over with a critical eye. She wore the usual one-piece practice outfit that covered her from neck to toes, a hunter green one that flattered her coloring. She didn't look any different; her eyes still twinkled at him, she still smiled with the same warmth as always.

After having read her medical report several times now, he noticed things that very well would have escaped his notice. Her movements were a little stiff, and she favored her left side just a tiny bit when she sat down, a faint wince that would have been missed by unsuspecting eyes, disappearing as she leaned back.

"So, I'm here. What's the problem?"

He sighed and cast around for a way to say what he had to without making the situation worse, and realized that things were as bad as could be right now. "I cannot allow you to train this morning with the others. It would be dangerous in your condition, to yourself and to them."

"What are you talking about? What condition? There's nothing wrong with me that some exercise won't fix."

That she could lie to him, and do it so convincingly worried him even more. If he hadn't read the doctor's report, he would have believed her wholeheartedly. "I've also placed you on the inactive list until further notice."

Charlotte's eyes narrowed at him. "Would you care to explain why, Doctor?"

Hank silently slid the folder over to rest in front of her.

She read her own name off the tab. "Where did you get this?"

Hank considered fabricating a small falsehood, but decided against it. "Gambit, ah... 'liberated' your personal file from Dr. Jacobo's office. Frankly, he was suspicious of your recent behavior and sought for a way to assist you in your present difficulties."

"I don't have any difficulties." Her accent was in full force, tightly controlled and as close to the edge as he'd ever heard it. "I'd like to know what gave you the right. You invaded my privacy!"

"Regardless of how this was obtained, the fact remains you've been keeping your injuries secret. For the welfare of the team, and yourself, we must know exactly what your condition is."

"It's not your concern, Dr. McCoy," she told him coldly. "I'll thank you to remember that."

"Charlotte, we care about you," he tried to soothe her, but he was failing fast, recognizing the signs of her true anger about to be released. He had never borne the brunt of her fury, and something told him this was not the time for a new experience. "I only wish to help."

"Then leave it alone. This doesn't concern you, or anyone else here." She stood up, taking the file with her. "I don't want to hear one word about this, do you understand me?"

"Charlotte, you and I have been friends for a long time," Hank said quietly. "If ... someone ... is hurting you, I -"

"That's it!" she spat at him, her patience gone. "How dare you?!"

Hank realized that she was trembling, she was scared. Something odd was happening here, and he was willing to wager it had nothing to do with the possible conclusions he and Gambit had discussed earlier.

"Charlotte --"

She was gone, storming off. If the door had been more receptive to her mood, it would have slammed shut in her wake.

After checking the bottom drawer to be sure the copies of her medical file were still where he placed them as a precaution, he then used the intercom to request his next unscheduled visitor to come to his office.

He was not looking forward to this meeting, either.

~*~*~*~*~

"Yeah, Hank?" Logan poked his head into Hank's office. "Wha'cha want?"

"Please, come in." Hank pushed back from his desk and motioned Logan in.

Like Gambit before him, Logan didn't take a seat, just leaned against the wall by the door. "I got things ta do, Blue, so spit it out."

"Of course. This is a complicated matter to begin with, Wolverine, and it will only grow more difficult to deal with due to the circumstances that may be involved --"

"Just spill it, will ya?"

"Right. This concerns Charlotte." He again opened the medical report. "She appears to have sustained several injuries and a number of suspect bruises and wounds."

Logan moved over to the desk. "When did this happen?" He turned a page, and a low growl rumbled out of him. "Who the hell did this!?"

Hank released a silent breath, the relief flowing over him. "I don't know. Let me tell you how this was discovered."

~*~*~*~*~

Charlotte was still fuming over the nerve Hank had butting into her life when the door to their bedroom swung open, banging into the plaster. The doorknob punched a hole into the wall and stuck.

Startled, she froze into a defensive stance that she relaxed when she saw Logan standing in the doorway. She smiled, then the smile faded from her face as she took note of the thunderous expression on his face. "Logan.....?" she asked, not at all sure what was going to happen.

Logan didn't answer her. He stalked forward, tracking her, forcing her to back away from him. She bumped against the bureau, then winced as one meaty hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm.

With the other hand, Logan grasped the collar of her practice suit and yanked down on it, ripping it past her waist to expose her chest and abdomen. His growl echoed in the room at the first sight of the greenish-black bruises blooming over more than half her bared skin.

"Logan --"

"Shuddap!" He finished shredding her clothes off, leaving her naked and furious, then spun her around to look at the long healing rips and bruises on her back and buttocks. "Don't say a goddamn word!"

Charlotte tried to pull away, but he held her fast, his hand tightening on her. "Let me go!" She felt a rare stab of fear - fear of him. He never used that tone of voice with her; she didn't care for it much at all.

After taking in the entire sight, he released her. "Get some clothes on."

"No."

"You either get dressed, or I'm haulin' yer ass down to the lab like that. Yer choice."

"I'm not going anywhere."

He grabbed her arm again and yanked her close, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Don't push me!"

She turned away from the inferno that raged just below his surface. "Heaven forbid I push you," she muttered. When he released her, she went into her closet for a robe. "I don't need to go to the lab."

"Just when were ya gonna let me know what's goin' on? How long did ya think you could hide it?" He followed her in to make sure she obeyed his orders.

Charlotte took a long silk robe from a hanger and slipped it on, tying the belt tightly around her waist. "As long as it took to figure out why."

"Why what?"

"Why this is happening."

The catch in her voice hurt him, but he didn't show it. His wife had kept a secret from him, one that threatened her life, and he was not giving in to the pain that caused them both.

~*~*~*~*~

"If you would remove your gown, Charlotte?"

She stood in the middle of the medlab, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. "I don't want to be examined, Doctor." The quiet fury in her voice permeated the room despite her low tone.

Snikt. "Do it, or it's comin' off the hard way."

Hank nearly cringed from the icy, guttural sound of Logan's voice, but it had the opposite effect on Charlotte. She dropped her arms to her sides and squared her shoulders. The effect was incredible, seeming to give her another few inches in height, transforming her before their eyes. Gone was the warm, loving woman they'd all grown accustomed to. She was replaced with the noble, regal agelessness of Lady Charlotte. Proud. Infinitely untouchable. Alien.

She untied the belt slowly to let the thick silk slide from her shoulders and gather around her feet. Just as Logan had before him, Hank blinked at the damage done to her body. The artificial lights were particularly unkind, highlighting the multi-colored bruising with a stark intensity.

Cold amber eyes regarded him steadily, daring him to say something, anything that would give her the excuse to leave and provoke Logan's barely leashed anger.

With some difficulty, he swallowed whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, motioning to the examination table. She complied with his silent request, her dignity an almost tangible thing she used to cloak herself securely against the indignity forced upon her person.

"How did this happen," Hank asked gently.

"I don't know. I think it's the dreams."

"Ain't good enough."

The antagonistic tone of voice stopped all pretense of cooperation on her part. She closed her mouth and submitted to Hank's perusal without another sound.

~*~*~*~*~

Charles Xavier frowned at the 'young' woman sitting across from him in the debriefing room. Charlotte sat in perfect stillness in the chair, her air of regal dignity cloaking her completely.

Not Charlotte, he amended to himself. Lady Charlotte was the product of two separate worlds, both alien to the current times. If there had ever been a doubt as to her pedigree, it was gone. She rivaled Ororo in superior attitudes.

"If you would allow me to scan you, Charlotte, perhaps --"

"No, Charles." The words were quiet and implacable.

"He's gonna do it," Logan told her, just as unyieldingly. The first burst of anger gone, he was still determined to find out what was going on, and one difficult woman wasn't stopping him. "Do it, Chuck."

"I cannot, not without Charlotte's consent."

"You got mine."

"Yours is not what's needed at this point."

That remark didn't get a flicker out of Charlotte. She stared at nothing in particular. The thick silk of her robe contributed to her otherworldly appearance, its folds draped around her in an almost medieval manner, her hair flowing around her in long curls. Her eyes regarded the room and its occupants in an impersonal way that was both too old and too young.

"Are you done with me, Doctor?" Charlotte directed at Hank. "I find I am quite tired." She didn't wait for an answer. Rising carefully, she left the room without a backward glance.

"I believe I may be able to discover the source of her injuries," Xavier said thoughtfully. "In the meantime, I don't think she should be left alone."

"You don't believe she's still in danger, do you?" Jean asked.

"She's in a great deal of danger, if what I suspect may be happening," the professor told them, "but at the moment we should be concerned with the possibility of flight. I believe the answer lies with Wolverine."

Logan scowled at him. "I'm tellin' ya I didn't do that to her. She said it was the dreams."

"That was never a consideration," Xavier assured him. "Even if that were possible, Charlotte has already disabused Beast of that idea."

"Why do you think Wolverine has the answers?" Scott questioned.

"Because," Jean answered her husband, the conclusion becoming apparent to her as well, "it's happening to Logan, not Charlotte. He's the one who's dreaming."

"Me? I don't dream much." He stopped his restless pacing. He didn't dream like he used to since Charlotte came back into his life.

"It would be credible to theorize that the bond between the two of you is in part responsible," Hank pointed out. "It is possible she is manifesting your nightmares, or has become a victim of them."

"Perhaps she will consent to the use of the memory image inducer," Charles mused. "It would be a great help in determining exactly what she is dreaming of and be much less invasive than a scan."

"She'll be there," Logan told him. His eyes narrowed as he thought of how he was going to pull that one off.

~*~*~*~*~

Hank adjusted the head piece on Charlotte, strapping the memory image inducer into place. "Is that comfortable?"

"Does it matter, Doctor?" She stood rigid, her eyes snapping gold sparks at him.

"Certainly it matters." He chose to ignore her clipped tone of voice, and her new habit of calling him 'Doctor' in a challenging way. If she didn't want help or didn't want to be here, no amount of coercion would have forced her.

He summoned a smile for her, than patted her shoulder. "Just try to relax and let it work."

Charlotte didn't return his smile. She stood in the middle of the DR, dressed in her usual uniform of solid black spandex, the yellow 'X' conspicuously absent. Her hair was pulled back in a fat braid to keep it out of the way.

A long knife was strapped to her right thigh, the leather belt cinched tight around her waist. It was one none of them had seen her use before, a gleaming fifteen inches of black, double edged death. Several black feathers and colored beads hung from the hilt on thin strips of tanned hide.

Logan stood nearby, also in his colors, the mask discarded for the occasion. He'd pushed her to this, cajoled, begged and threatened, and now she was here. He considered pointing out the knife would have no effect on the projections in here, unless Chuck saw fit to throw in a few of the robots, but if it helped her get through this she could have anything her heart desired.

Jean was close, ready to monitor Char's mental state during the exercise, as much as Charlotte would let her, as well as Storm and Rogue, who stood the best chance of taking Charlotte out if she became unmanageable. Gambit and Cyclops joined Hank and Xavier in the control room.

The young Cajun was hurt by Charlotte's refusal to look at him, or acknowledge his presence because of the role he played in all this, but he'd flashed his heart-melting grin at her anyway. He'd do it all over again if it meant she'd get the help she needed.

"Anytime you're ready," the professor told them over the comm.

"Doctor McCoy, will this device project any memory I choose?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes, it will, but I want you to --" His words were forgotten as a haze of shadowy figures appeared in front of Charlotte. A few moments later, the figures solidified into recognizable people.

A couple, man and woman, stood together. He was average in height, cinnamon brown hair tied back from a handsome face, dressed in knee breeches and hosiery, a white shirt with full sleeves strained over a deep chest.

The woman with him was young and fair, an almost golden sheen to her skin. The pale green gown encased a full figure, blonde hair pulled high on the crown of her head to cascade in curls down to the small of her back. Golden amber eyes gazed at the man in frank adoration.

He bowed to her, then swept her into his arms to whirl her around, her skirts billowing in a colorful display.

A gasp from Rogue was lost to the others as they watched the images of Charlotte's parents frolic together to unheard music, oblivious to time and place. Stunned faces experienced one of Charlotte's most precious memories given life, no one immune to the emotions that poured from her. Happiness, regret, longing.

Love.

After several minutes, the two shared a passionate kiss, then he picked her up and cradled her against his chest to carry her off, the figures disappearing as easily as they had appeared.

No one spoke for a long minute as Charlotte walked over to Logan to hug him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "I never meant to keep this from you."

His answer was a nod in her shoulder, holding her as hard as he dared.

Jean and Ororo exchanged knowing looks, then Jean cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

Charlotte lifted her head to glare mildly at the other woman before letting Logan go. Even then, he brought her back for a brief, sweet kiss. Taking her place again, she closed her eyes and took a firm hold on the hilt of her weapon.

"I don't know how this started. I noticed a few bruises here and there when I'd wake up, but I just thought Logan was being especially loving so I didn't give it a thought."

Logan humphed, but didn't comment. If Charlotte could make a joke, then everything was going to be okay.

"Then I started remembering my dreams, nightmares really." A swirling bit of light, then Sabretooth materialized before them. "People I've never met, places I've never been." The ghostly image of Creed swiped at her. Charlotte ducked convulsively and the image disappeared.

In his place stood a figure in silver, katana already in a down stroke towards her head. She pulled the knife from her side and held it against her chest, point down, chanting soundlessly. An emerald green light surrounded her.

"Silver Samurai," Jean whispered. Logan cursed softly under his breath.

The flashing blade touched the light and the figure vanished, a new one taking its place. Metallic tentacles swarmed around her, a pale white face contorted in fury. As before, the image disappeared when it came near the aura enveloping her.

"I've never faced the Silver Samurai, or Omega Red," Charlotte said, striving for a normal tone of voice that fooled no one. "I had to research them to find out who they were. Then there were others. Memories of killing and fighting that aren't mine, like I'm living from one moment of death to another."

More swirls of light, coalescing into an angry Asian woman, flashing silver claws that flickered in an unseen light. Someone, she wasn't sure who, murmured "Lady Deathstrike."

"I've never fought this one, either." She turned to Logan. "There are more, but these are the reoccurring ones. I've dreamed of Nick Fury, Cable, even Magneto. I've tended bar in a strange place, made love to women I've never seen, and fought everyone from bar bullies to the armed forces. I've even dreamed of being in a tank of fluid wearing a mask of some sort while being injected with a substance that I think is your adamantium." Her voice ended in a sob. "It hurts. I want it to stop hurting." Faces flashed around her in rapid order, bearing mute testimony to her confusion and pain.

He couldn't speak for a long minute. She was living his past, and it was destroying her, destroying them. "I'm sorry, darlin'," Logan said softly, guilt flooding him. "What're we gonna do 'bout this?"

"I don't know. If I did, this wouldn't be happening."

"The first thing we must do," Charles spoke over the intercom, "is break the psi bond between you."

A panicked look crossed her face for the first time. "No, Charles. Out of the question." The glow faded rapidly as she re-sheathed her weapon to fumble with the catch on the memory image inducer. "That's not an option."

Jean stepped up to help her, a pitying look on her face that Charlotte didn't see. "I understand your reluctance, Char, but you need to heal. There has to be some psychic damage because of this."

"She's right, darlin'," Logan took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm gonna hafta insist on it. I can't let ya live my nightmares anymore."

"I don't want to be alone," Charlotte whispered, a stricken look on her face at the thought. "Anything but that."

"Ain't gonna be alone. M' gonna be right here with ya the whole time."

~*~*~*~*~

Logan carried Charlotte's unconscious body up to their bedroom. Hank had wanted to keep her in the medlab, but he knew she didn't want to be there. After the concessions she'd made for him, despite her reservations about allowing anyone into her head, he could at least give this to her.

Because of her extreme reluctance, Xavier had to induce Charlotte to sleep, then sever the bond she had with Logan to begin the psychic healing. It took both Charles and Jean to start the process. Charlotte had centuries to build mental blocks; a few minutes with Charles was not going to take down the results of a several hundred years of shielding.

Even in her unconscious state she reacted to it, tears trickling down her cheeks. The medallion around her neck pulsed in response, along with Logan's. It could have been worse, Logan realized. He felt shaky and disoriented himself, but the connection between them created by the shaman at their bonding was unaffected. His mind missed her presence, but his heart still carried a piece of her.

"Ain't never gonna be alone, Char," he whispered in her unresponsive ear. "I swear it, darlin'."

He undressed her, slicing through what wouldn't come off easily, and spread a sheet over her body. He looked again at the damage done to her, anger spiking up that she'd suffer through all this without telling him. Carefully tamping it back down, he kissed her lips, feeling them trembled slightly beneath his own. Damn woman.

Logan left her alone to sleep, heading back to the Danger room for some therapy of his own. After watching his enemies attack his wife, he felt the need to take over the fight, even if they were going to be robots and holograms this time.

Storm met him on his way down. "How is Charlotte?"

"She's sleepin'," he answered.

"That is good," she said, peering at his face as he brushed by her. "She loves you very much."

"Yeah, I saw that. Loves me so much she's willin' to get herself killed."

"Logan, look at me."

He turned to her. "What?"

"As misguided as it was, she was attempting to protect you. She is still very young in some ways."

"Don't let 'er fool ya, 'Ro, she was tryin' to control things, but she ain't learnin' some things can't be done that way."

"You will work it out. The two of you seem to have a singular ability to do so." Ororo patted his arm in an effort to comfort him.

"This is somethin' different. This could've killed her."

"No, it could not." She gently smiled at him. "How can anything happen to her while you are here? And perhaps, just perhaps, she should be educated about those people she's been meeting in your dreams. Some of them are still around and they do not stay silent for very long."

"Ya got a point, darlin'."

A real point, he mused as he continued on his way. Soon as Charlotte was on her feet and cleared by Beast to return to active duty, she was going back into training, *his* brand of training, whether she liked it or not.



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.