An Unholy Reunion

[Ember]

The sounds of the church bells tolled, filling the early morning with the sweet sound as it told the city that early morning mass was about to commence. The Church was already filled with people, all the early risers sitting in the pews for the first mass of the day. The priests chanted prayers as they walked in the center isle that separated the sections of pews.

Near the front of the Church, sitting on the seat closest to the wall sat Aideen, head bowed in meditation. She attended Church as she was conditioned to her entire life. Her Uncle was a very religious man, and raised her in a very strict Catholic environment. She didn't know what her definite beliefs were in terms of the world and how it was founded, but she found comfort in the idea that such a faith existed to give hope and guidance for the darkness of life.

Aideen had been utterly alone far too many times and seen far too many things to believe that God watched over them and kept them safe. She did take comfort in the idea of Him though, and she always enjoyed Church services. It was such a peaceful and meditative time, and the atmosphere always brought a sense of escape and peace over her. The decorations and just the smell was enough to send her to a place in her mind only achieved through prolonged meditation.

The early services at the Old South Church were never crowded. Aideen had woken up at 5:30am despite the late night, slipping out of bed silently to not disturb Logan. He was sleeping very heavily when she left, so she was not worried about him not getting his sleep. She put on a modest Sunday clothes: simple black slacks, heels, and a suit jacket, and left the garage silent as the ninja she was, not disturbing anyone as she borrowed a car to get to the Church.

Aideen needed the time alone, the time to reflect on everything that happened and collect herself. In Church, the ghosts of the past didn't haunt her. Here she found comfort in her memories, remembering the moments with fondness rather than sadness and regret. She used the time dedicated to prayer to meditate and think on everything. She thought on her conversation with Mason in the car, the way his words shook her and effected her; thoughts of the events of the weekend, the memories that were brought to light from the moment she rode into the city swirled in her.

The Monsignor began the Mass, asking everyone to rise as he recited opening prayer. Aideen stood reverently and followed along with the Mass peacefully, feeling serene and calm. She listened to the Gospel being read, knowing it by memory word from word. The whole Church was silent as the Priest read, listening to a story many had probably heard many times, but yet treated this time and every other time like it was the first.

The silence was broken only once by the sound of the doors opening and closing as late arrivals slipped inside. The gate of the footfalls alerted something in Aideen's mind, her face going blank upon her suspicion. No. He never attends the Old South Church, he couldn't... She paled slightly as she saw the figure in the corner of her eye, her mind reverting back to a familiar posture as she stood up even straighter and stared straight ahead respectfully. Her face showed no emotion as she stared at the priest talking, words falling upon deaf ears as she regulated her breathing, making room in the pew as she usually did, as he conditioned her to act.

[~ N.P.C. ~]

And so the Mass progressed, the reverence of the man that now stood next to his charge did not lessen. Gard Whelan had worked with the Vatican for years, and no matter what his mood may be, he would never let anything get in the way of Church. When the time came to receive the Eucharist, he held his charge back with the simple gesture of putting an arm out. To receive the Body and Blood of Christ, one's soul must be purified, and from the report he received his ward was not one of them.

No, Gard was not at all pleased with the report he received from his contact at Aujourd’hui. He did not like that his charge did not inform him of her arrival in the vicinity of the town, when she was told she must inform him of any arrival to the area. This was only one of the other facts he received in the report, and he was equally unhappy with all of them. He was glad to see that the school, that wretched place that the Woman in White convinced him to sign those forsaken papers, did not undo his hard and precise work completely. She still acted just as she should: respectful and silent, never making the bold move of eye contact to a superior and following silent orders.

When the closing prayer finished and the people started leaving, Gard stood up and looked at the girl, pleased that her eyes stayed forward as they should. "Genuflect in front of the alter," he ordered in a firm voice, getting out of the pew and watching his charge walk up to the alter in the slow graceful stance that he had her learn. No matter what the circumstances, he would not allow her to act or look like anything else other than a lady. And as she walked back to him, he turned and went forward to exit the Church, knowing the girl would follow. He was confident that her conditioning retained, and he knew that she was taught better than to go off on her own now.

A black SUV waited for them outside the Church, with an older woman, the maid and overseer of his property Agatha, waiting by the doors. She opened the door for both of them, Gard stepping aside to allow his charge to enter first. Silent and obedient as ever, she stepped in and he followed. Not a word was said throughout the whole car ride to building. He knew that his charge was anticipating punishment, and he left her to anticipate, refusing to give into any of the building tension until they arrived to their home.

For years, home to his charge was the building that stood before them as Agatha pulled up to the large building that looked like it could house many families. It did, in fact, only house the three currently in the car. Gard had the building designed that each floor contained a specific purpose. One was dedicated to weapons, another was a gym, another a library, and the very top floor was the apartment in which they lived. When the car stopped, it was another floor to which Gard lead his charge, a floor that had no name, and with good reason. Here was where penance was performed, as well as inspections, and it seemed his charge was in need of just that.

It was Agatha that opened the door to the floor in question, and it was Gard who marched in with his charge following, an expressionless look on her face, just as he taught her. It was a sign of strength if one's enemies could not discern their emotions, and he would not have a weakling as a charge. Much to his pleasure, she stood in the appropriate spot where all inspections and lectures were performed. Oh his charge had been as close to flawless as possible before she left, and this was the first in over eight months that she stood in the middle of the bare room with rough wooden flooring, back straight and eyes focused straight ahead.

"Is there a reason why you have not contacted me of the news of your arrival?" Gard asked walking around her slowly, keeping his eyes on her form. "Were you unable to find the time between gallivanting like a common whore with a man?" He grabbed her chin hard from the side, pushing her forward slightly, her posture unwavering. "Is this how I raised you girl? To be another gypsy whore like your mother was?" He pushed her chin away and resumed walking around her, glaring at her in disgust and displeasure. "The apple never does fall far from the tree does it? I had you brought up to get what may remain of those disgusting people's blood out of you, but it appears I failed have I not? The charge that I raised and trained should not be so careless, showing emotion in public, dressed like a wench and acting like a fool with an older man I am told? My, my, I am disappointed to say you are truly a daughter of that Gypsy Tramp." He watched her face carefully, looking for a sign of emotion, but finding none. Her eyes did not flicker and her face did not twitch. It was expected of her, and she was always taught to do as she was ordered.

"Agatha!" The woman stepped forward, dark hair streaked with grey pulled back in a bun and a stern look on her face. She dressed plainly and fully covered in a brown dress with long sleeves and high neckline. The only jewelry worn was the only Gard would allow: a single cross on a chain. "Prepare the girl for inspection, and take the initial record." He left the room, to be back in only a moment, feeling his duty to inspect his charge thoroughly and have her give penance for her sins. She needed to be reminded of what she was, who she was raised to be, and her place in this world.

[Ember]

Eyes straight and unblinking, perfect posture, even breathing, and not showing any sign of emotion, no matter what. It was like Aideen had flashed back to several months ago, her mind blank, her body moving automatically as she was conditioned to her entire life. She waited, unmoving, until Agatha came back with the light shift robe. Automatically, Aideen began to undress, folding all her clothes to the side neatly and standing in the middle of the cold room as the first part of the inspection begun.

Agatha had been something of a nursemaid to Aideen since she was a child. She oversaw her activities when her Uncle was away, and attended to all the female needs that her Uncle would never even think of helping with. This had been another duty: inspecting her body for any mark, any scar anything that was not allowed. Her uncle did not want her to have any identifiable marks on her body. There was a special salve that she used to not let even the faintest of scars mar her body. She was not allowed tattoos, piercings or anything that could stain her skin permanently. Because of that, her skin was rather unique, as unmarked as a baby's skin.

Aideen stood perfectly still while Agatha inspected her body, mind blank and expressionless face throughout the whole thing. For a minute, it felt almost real compared to the surreal months she had been having at that school. Xavier's was like a fantasy world, including the crazy things that went on there next to her life with her Uncle. It was all she had ever known, and having been thrust into the a whole new world at the school had her lose perspective on what her daily life was really like. Every part of her life was under strict control and monitored carefully.

By reminding her of the unpleasant experience of inspection, she remembered it all the more that she was a weapon, a charge to which her Uncle had put a lot of time and money into to mold into is light. It would be wrong of her to not honor him by being disobedient after all he had done for her. She worked to keep her breathing even as Agatha finished the inspection, handing her an Arabic garment of a sort that looked like a loose half shirt and a pair of baggy cloth pants that ended at her knees. It allowed her Uncle to inspect her physique while still keeping to his moral and conservative standards.

Dressed in the light garments, Aideen felt cold, but she would never dare let on any weakness in this building. Face void of expression, she stood in the straight and rigid position, not having to wait long for her uncle to come back, holding a stack of letters and looking over them casually as ever. She didn't waver her position, staring straight ahead and preparing herself for what was to come, falling into the familiar routine of taking control of her mind and reverting back into a pattern that she had not followed for a long time.

[Wolverine]

As the bedroom door shut, he stirred...

Heat's gone, dissipating.. where'd she? - Eh? Garage door.. Car engine.. That girl's gonna get herself in a mess of trouble. This town and all her ghosts and vendettas- can't let her face it all without a safety net.. break my heart if anything happened to her.

~~~~~~~

*SNIIFF-SNiFff*

Old gas, car's been sitting- valve tap too by the smell of it.. not burnin clean at all.. easy to follow. Distinct.

~~~~~~~

Outside Old South Church...

Better wait out here... hardly dressed for church- Hell I'm hardly dressed at all, but my Angel Eyes sure is.. whatta looker. Damn, church- she was goin to church.. It ain't like I didn't trust her- it's this town I don't trust. Hell with it. I'll hang around... just in case...

Who the hell are they? Where's she goin now.. don't like it- raises the hackles on my neck, the look of that guy.. he looks.. like he's...

*Sniff SniFFF*

...Hmmm, yeah.. he's related. The Uncle no doubt. Ahh, the smell of her.. black raspberry vanilla, God bless it.. thick and easy to follow..

[~ N.P.C. ~]

Placing the stack of letters on a nearby table, Gard walked over to his charge, glaring at her hard as he took the notes from Agatha. His glare only furrowed deeper as he looked from the notes at his charge, walking around her slowly. "You're gone for three months, you indulge in the sins of the flesh like your Gypsy tramp of a mother, and now a bruise on your torso. That's a mark girl, and you're not allowed a single mark." He grabbed her chin hard with his hand in a practiced manner, with just enough force to hurt, but not enough to bruise. "That diet you are to be on would not allow your skin to mar so easily girl. In addition to filthy activities, you've taken to alcohol recently as well. This is how you obey now? Under strict orders that you are to never waver from your eating schedule, you take it upon yourself to take liberties that you are not allowed."

Gard yanked her chin to the side so she could look at the tall floor length mirror, pointing to it with disgust. "That is unacceptable. You remember who raised you girl, who you are in debt to. When I give an order, you are to obey without question." He practically through her chin back as he wretched his hand away and looked at her in disgust. He loathed her linage on her mother's side, and it angered him that the unruliness and sinful behavior of the gypsies was still apparent in her despite his efforts.

He walked over to the tables with the letters, a stack his charge sent to him upon his order of her grades, transcripts and college acceptance. "Dartmouth, Princeton, Stamford, Brown, Vanderbilt... acceptance letters from some of the best schools in the world, that's what's expected of you girl." He threw that stack of letters on the desk and held the other ones while looking at her with a glare. "THIS is not what you were ordered. Rejection letters from the top universities that you were told to be accepted. Cambridge, rejected. Harvard, rejected. Oxford, rejected. I don't know what they teach you at that school girl, but I would have made sure you got accepted. Do you know what that makes you look like? And myself? No girl, I will not be made into a failure by a half blooded harlot."

For a moment, Gard stopped, putting the letters down on the desk in an odd moment of calmness to the naked eye. He moved from being near erratic in anger to the calm and composed man known all over the world by many. "Tell me girl, are you here with people from that wretched school?" The clear and soft "Sir, yes, sir," from his charge followed immediately. A hard look came across his face for a moment, silence befalling the room. "You will go back to them, I don't want them in my building, or in my presence. However." He stepped in front of her and looked down at her, studying in disdain a face that did not look part of the Whelan line, a mar on an otherwise perfect family tree.

"You have committed dire sins girl, and for that you must pay penance to God. You will feel the pain of His wrath by you're own hand, and by that of an ordained minister. The penance will cleanse your soul of the sins you committed, and you will be purified once again." Gard grabbed her chin again, glaring down at her. "You may look like that Gypsy Jezebel, but I will take it as my personal duty that you do not burn in hell like she will. The filthy blood will be purified yet girl, mark my words." He let her chin go and walked over to the cabinet, taking a key from his pocket to open it. He came back with a short white whip, blessed be the Cardinal Bishop himself and held it out for his charge.

"My God have mercy on your soul girl, beg His forgiveness and pay your penance. Ten lashes on your back, and I will send in Pastor Thomas to finish the last." It was a punishment he threw at her whenever she sinned against God's will and he found out. He felt that a sin against His word and His will was punishable to the highest degree, and this was no exception. He would retain his foolish brother some dignity and not have his only descendant burn in hell with the Heathens like her mother. "Agatha, take her to the Chapel Room. Pastor Thomas should already be waiting. If her lashes are not with all her strength or if there is any sound of pain, add more to the number. Pastor Thomas will have his orders, and she is to be cleansed with Holy Water, and the salve put on her back and wrapped. No permanent marks are acceptable."

Gard went to the floor below, where the Chapel in the building was located with his study right next door. For the next half hour, he left his door open to here the crack of the whip on the flesh of his charge, with Pastor Thomas praying for her before taking over. He trained his charge well, not a single cry or whimper left her lips. A pleased look was on his face as he read the Bible, listening to every hit that vibrated through the floor and every prayer that Pastor Thomas would recite. None of the other occupants in his building would bat an eyelash to how he raised his charge, they never did. His own guard that stood outside his study didn't even blink as Pastor Thomas brought out the bowl of Holy Water, pink with blood out of the Chapel.

Agatha would take care of the girl, put the specially developed salve on her back and wrap it with bandages. His charge would heal in a couple of weeks, to which Gard felt was enough time for her to learn the repercussions of her sinful behavior. And if not, he knew she would return as ordered and take her orders as she had all her life. He didn't even look up when she was escorted over, now dressed in her original clothing, the look on her face one that he was proud of: expressionless and submissive. "You're dismissed girl. Let this situation never happen again. Go with God." Those were the last cold words he uttered before his guards escorted his charge out of the building.

[Wolverine]

He knew he couldn't follow too closely, falling back had cost him time. He had to back track to pick up her scent, it cost him and he feared what it may have cost his love. Coming to a stop a distance from the place he slipped in to see what and where this was his Angel Eyes had been taken. The crack of a whip and he knew it was bad.

There was an unknown quantity inside the place, guards.. armed.. unarmed.. He didn't care. Logan knew what it sounded like and he didn't like it, not one bit. He knew his love would never cry out yet he feared the straps of the whip were meant for her, feeling them as if on his own flesh as fresh a memory now as the morning in Laos when they tore at him, and again in China, and again in East Berlin. Torture and it's associated sounds he knew very well, this was torture he was hearing, and she didn't break. His chest wanted to swell with pride but the weight of his heart was too heavy right now.

"Gotta get her outta there, make 'em all pay." Turning and heading back to his bike he armed it and kick started the rolling bomb. Gunning the throttle he flew at the building, steering toward the room in the back he had seen the man he recognized as her Uncle walk into and sit down. Launching off a burm at full throttle he felt the wind as he soared through the air claws slicing out through his flesh with a SNIKT

Crashing into the window and rolling off his bike as it burst into flames behind him he snarled as he crossed his claws before his face. "Where's Aideen!!" He screamed through them in an unholy howl, smelling her blood in the air. He knew his actions were justified then, trusting his instincts and intuition had never let him down, and as the secondary explosions ignited and shot shrapnel flaming hot through the walls he stood there skin blistering in the heat.

If she's nearby she'll be fine, and she'll come runnin. Why the hell didn't she fight back? What power does he have over her. Logan wondered, and as the fire engulfed him and the building behind him his eyes fell upon the man taking cover behind his desk. He would not allow him to live, he would make him suffer.

[Ember]

"Logan." The soft expressionless voice moved from the flames, Aideen walking through it casually and carefully, fully dressed and not a hair out of place while ignoring the pain on her back, the flames licking around her and drew into her. She sent a burst of protective flames around the unaffected area where her uncle stood with Agatha to obscure his vision. The fire clung to her as the flames swirled around her while she drew them in as she walked toward a very angry Wolverine.

"Please don't make me do this," she asked softly through the flames, breaking through the expressionless demeanor that she wore. They had trained together for months, he knew most if not all her moves, and she knew enough to be able to match him. This wasn't sparring though, and the last thing she wanted to do was fight him. He had little to no idea that this was all in the norm for her home life, he thought she was in trouble, she knew he'd be angry for that. The sprinklers all over the floor had already gone off, doing little to no good with Aideen taking control of a good deal of the fire.

She was utterly humiliated that he had even a vague idea of this part of her home life. It was extremely personal, and she had never intended that anyone ever know about it. The way she was brought up was an odd and incredibly strict manner, but she never complained. She realized what the situation may have looked like to Logan, but he had always been protective, though more so recently than when at the school. To tell him what the situation really was would either calm him down or set him off more, but with the sounds of sirens close by, she didn't have much time to decide.

"I had to pay penance. He never laid a finger on me, I had to do it myself," Aideen said softly and without emotion, giving her Uncle a chance to move into whatever panic room and escape plan he had on just about every floor. A trait passed on to her, he was always prepared for any situation. She left out that Pastor Thomas finished it, that was not something needed to know. "I'm getting wet," she said in a robotic voice looking up at the sprinklers. "May we leave here?"

[~ N.P.C. ~]

Gard straightened up with Agatha and Pastor Thomas by his side, looking with intrigue at his charge use her powers for the first time in such an epic manner. The flames seemed to disappear into her from everywhere but the wall of fire that she had surrounding her and blocking them. Her being a mutant only made her more of an abomination in his eyes, convinced that it was a trait she got from the filthy gypsies. He never realized until now how useful his charge's mutation may be. She had exceptional control, which he would never expect any less, and looked for a moment to have godly power. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, God blessed everyone in His way and perhaps giving his charge a gift to make up for her Heathen ancestors.

No matter what the case may be, Gard's mind was reeling as he thought of an assignment he had planned in a couple of months in India. His charge would be most useful there, more so than she already was just as the molded human weapon he made her into. Having her with him would be very useful, and she would never refuse an order. Gard knew that all he had to do was say one word, and she'd come to his side immediately. He conditioned his charge well, and there were somethings that not even her gypsy heritage could sour.

The book shelf on the side of his study opened up to reveal a tunned into the garage. The moment that they got in the car, Gard had his phone open and was on the phone with the Vatican Liaison and the United States government, complaining about a mongrel mutant attack his home unprovoked and nearly burning it down. He detested mutants and hated working with them, and having his chapel and study destroyed by a beastly acquaintance of his charge was enough incentive to make a fuss about it and have the media cause a frenzy.

As they drove out of the building and on to the street, he looked back to see nothing but smoke leaving the building, but no flames, the girl's doing no doubt. The next time he would meet with his charge, and he would have it be in the near future, he would have to punish her for luring that beast to him and having him destroy sacred artifacts and a floor of the building. It was unacceptable for anyone to have followed her and even more for her to ask them. This would be a punishment for a crime his charge never committed until now, and he knew that the first punishment must be the one that sticks. He stayed on the phone all the way to the S.H.I.E.L.D base where he would seek protection for the sake of it. Gard would see the girl soon, and when he did he would teach her another of his famous lessons.

[Wolverine]

In the midsts of the flames and mists of the sprinklers, as the sound of footsteps down a corridor and a car driving away, a realization struck him that his Aideen.. his Angel Eyes.. was never his at all.

His quarry having fled left his rage with no outlet, so no longer the berserker animal he was in years gone by he did his best to quell his fury. Looking into her eyes he saw only the dancing light of the fire surrounding them reflected. He could not see himself there any longer.

He had heard her say she tortured herself, for God, but it was not for the sake of the almighty at all.. no it was for the sake of that man and his twisted morality. Her Uncle had made her his perfect little killer puppet and Logan wondered if all the time he had spent with her had meant a damn thing at all. He had shared more with her, as little as it had been, than with anyone he could recall in recent memory.

Looking back through his life and all the women he had loved he understood that they all needed him to rescue them, even this one in his arms, and they all were flawed. Not that he was perfect, he was very far from that, but their flaws were hauntingly similar. They all had something to prove, to themselves, their peers, or their families. All had some sort of face to save by self sacrifice and he tried in vain to rescue them from it.. from their pride, from their misplaced respect and their malignant honor.

Pride comes before the fall he reminded himself so as to not follow suit and compound an already untenable situation. It's not her fault old man- girl's been brainwashed, all the way back since her childhood.. if ya love her it's gonna take a whole lot to break her out of it.. Well? -got that in you? he asked himself looking into her eyes. Gotta try, I love her.

Breaking from the kiss he looked back into her eyes. The blank stare, a look of doll's eyes met his own still, and he shook her as his growl of anger at what had been done to her built into a howl of agony for his own loss. "Who ARE you!?! Where the hell's my Angel Eyes? Snap out of it Aideen!" The sound of his voice saying her name must have done it for the fire subsided then and only the sound of water raining down on them from the sprinklers above met their ears. Logan was thankful, at least for the spray, the water dousing them hid his tears.

"Yer a mess kid, but ain't we all.." he said as he dragged her by her upper arm out front to the SUV he had followed, and put her securely in it. Rushing around to the drivers side he shook his head to splay off some of the water and swiped his hair back out of his face as the sirens approaching sounded close but not too close yet for an escape. Deftly he swung open the door and hopped up in the seat popping a single claw with a SNiKT. His intention on using it to start the vehicle stalled though as he saw the key in the ignition, a cross swinging on the keychain, sheathing his claw again with a SNaKT he started the vehicle and drove off.. not saying another word.