Disclaimer/introduction from the author
All characters except Jordan and Amnesia and maybe a few other random were created by me. Pretty much everyone else is owned by X-men/Marvel. I've re-written the story a few times, somewhat the same but different all at once. I followed the cartoon series closely but some episodes were replaced to further Jordan's development, others were just plain skipped. At the beginning of most chapters you'll get a blurb with the X-men showing some concern over Jordan. Giving you hints/insight to her relationship to some of the X-men, but mostly its there to show you that she's about to get in big trouble. Please respond, I'd love to get some feedback, thank you and enjoy
Hank McCoy put a hand to Jordan's forehead, "Except for being a bit banged up, she seems okay."
"Except she's lost her mind?" Scott replied hotly.
"She just needs a moment to come out of it! We don't know what Amnesia put her through!" Logan snarled.
"Logan…" Hank started, but stopped when Jordan started making noise.
Kurt clutched her hand and leaned forward to listen, "Snow…red…beetles…pretty lights…" Jordan made a desperate cry as she tried to find the words, trying to reach out at the people standing over her. Her face reddened and random words escaped for a few minutes, before she gave up and went limp on the table and began sobbing softly.
Professor Xavier looked down at her, finding it difficult to look at the young woman. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, touching her temples with his fingers. Jordan just laid there, apparently unaffected by his mental intrusion. After several minutes he backed away and looked up.
"How bad is it, Charles?" Logan asked.
"It isn't good, Logan. In fact, it is very bad. She's…simply not there. All that's left of her mind is broken. There is more I need to take into consideration, it's simply too soon to determine if it's irreversible or not…"
"I'll kill her," Logan growled. "I'll find Amnesia, and I'll kill her."
Chapter One-Enter Jordan Smith
Jordan Smith was often considered a 'troubled teen' by her teachers. Her grades bounced from straight As to nearly failing. One semester she would be the star of the gymnastic team or cheerleading squad, the next she was found fighting in hallways. Jordan had seen ten different schools in the past ten years, with fifteen different foster families.
She had scars, both mental and physical. Those scars came from her shady past and beginnings, to more recent foster homes and detention centers. All she had to know of her father were things that came in dreams, and she couldn't recall her mother at all. And that she had been abandoned by them. You hear stories of babies being thrown away with the trash, Jordan was around five when she was found almost dead in an alley.
Some of her foster families weren't so bad, but no one wanted a broken child. One with nightmares that made her wake up screaming every other night, that threw tantrums and fits, that bit and scratched and fought.
Other families…weren't so nice. Jordan had put up with mental and physical abuse from a few adults that had been paid to take her in and take care of her. One house was so bad that Jordan had ran away and lived on her own for three months…she had been thirteen. She'd been caught trying to steal a car, was sent to juvie for a few months but re-released into foster care because of her cooperation and good behavior…and for her own safety. While in juvie Jordan had gotten on the bad side of another minor, and it had escalated to where Jordan's life truly was in danger.
And that brought her to where she was now. In the care of Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson. They were an older couple whose children had already left the nest. Jordan's social worker had done well for her, getting a couple who were kind and caring to watch over Jordan.
Jordan still suffered from the night terrors. When she was could remember they happened weekly, and until recently they had declined to rare occurrences, maybe once every three or four months. But they had come back in full force, nightmares that Jordan couldn't escape until her foster parents shook her awake. Originally the only thing she remembered from them was a man, who she always assumed to be her father, was carrying her in his arms from an unseen threat. Something or someone was coming, she didn't know what or why whatever it was was so terrifying.
But the dreams started to become more clear. The man was tough and athletic, shaggy black hair and black stubble on his chin. His voice gravely, but comforting. "its okay, Jordan. Everything will be okay."
Every dream seemed longer, clearer, almost to the point where she could unmask the hidden terror that was chasing them…but it never came. If her foster parents didn't wake her, she jerked awake herself to stop from facing it.
"You don't look so good. Another bad dream?"
Jordan rubbed her eyes and looked at her friend, Riley. "Yeah. I really freaked out on my fosters last night, too. Mary is setting up an appointment with a psychiatrist for me. I don't know what this one will do that the others couldn't…I've been having the same dream since I can remember."
"I better get to my last class. Watch yourself, Biggie is pretty pissed at you for what you did yesterday."
Jordan moaned, Biggie was a girl a few years older than Jordan but in the same grade. Jordan had made the mistake of flirting with a boy Biggie had taken an interest in. Not like Biggie had a chance. Her real name was Madge, and no one called her Biggie to her face. Madge was as tall as Jordan, around 5'6", and twice as wide. She had made her way through school not on her smarts, but on frightening her classmates and even some of her teachers. Madge was a foster kid, just like Jordan.
"Two more weeks," Jordan muttered as she walked out of the building. Summer was coming up quickly, the change was already in the air.
Two heavy hands hit Jordan from behind, shoving her forward and sending her falling. Jordan had years of gymnastics training and took the fall gently, rolling and jumping to her feet. Biggie was standing, pounding one of her fists into her hand and giving Jordan a menacing glare.
"Madge…let's not do this," Jordan said, taking a step back. Madge had left Jordan alone, mostly because of Jordan's reputation. But it didn't appear she would back down now…not when she had an audience.
"You're dead, Smith!"
Biggie came at her at a run. Jordan didn't dodge it, but bent over to hit Madge in the middle with her shoulder and flip her over her back. Madge grabbed onto Jordan's shirt as she did so, pulling her down as well. Jordan felt a strike on her face and chest, and moved her arms up to protect herself while hitting back blindly. Madge shoved Jordan off of her once a blow landed. Jordan was dazed, the side of her face throbbing and her vision blurred as rage and embarrassment coursed through her. A heavy feeling that was familiar and alien to her at the same time.
Madge stood over Jordan, her nose was bloody. She raised a foot to stomp down on Jordan. Jordan's eyes widened a bit as her vision cleared and felt a pressure at the front of her head. There was an audible snap that came from no where, and without reason Madge clutched her head and fell to her knees moaning in pain.
Waves of excitement, fear, and disgust filled her next. Jordan felt positively sick as hands pulled her to her feet. "All of you! Get moving! Ms. Smith come with me!"
Jordan and her foster father Randy sat in the principal's office. Jordan had trouble listening to the conversation, her hands shaking and her head pounding.
On the drive home Jordan wasn't doing much better. She felt the heavy weight of Randy's disappointment in her…she didn't just know he was disappointed, she felt it. Once they were home she excused herself to her room, locking the door and falling into the bed. She could hear Mary on the phone with social services down the hall, could feel Mary just a few rooms down from her, her presence weighing on Jordan's mind.
In a mansion in Bayville, merely a few hours away from where Jordan was living, Logan woke with a start. His breath puffed out, and he realized he was in his bed and that it had been a dream…a wonderful yet sad dream, and frightening. He was holding a little girl in his arms, one with blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was clinging to his shirt and trembling, and thought it must have been hard for her she stayed silent as he ran with her. Desperate to save her, to keep her. Logan swung his feet off the side of the bed to sit up and leaned over a bit to put his head in his hands. He couldn't handle much more of the dream. It mystified him and terrified him at the same time, and it took a lot to scare him.
"Charles, I need to talk to you," Logan said the next morning.
"Is this about your nightmares?"
"You know about them?"
Charles turned around to face his friend. Charles Xavier was an older man with gentle blue eyes, a smooth bald head, and was confined to a wheelchair. "When you are a telepath like I am, it's hard to miss when someone is as distressed as you are. I'm here if you want to talk about it."
Logan sat down and ran a hand through his shaggy black hair. "I've had this dream before. I first remember it about ten years ago. It…it haunted me the first few years that I really remember. Anything before that…well, you already know that story. I'm running with this little girl in my arms, and I know she's my daughter. I don't know what we're running from…I don't know if it's a memory or something I just made up in my head, or something that was planted there. But it had stopped, mostly. I'd get it every few months, but these past couple months it's been at least twice a week. It's been…ever since the…since I got back from the Weapon X facility."
"It must be difficult, Logan. Not remembering so much of your past."
"What bothers me about this dream, Charles, is I think it may be a memory. What if I really had a daughter? What if she was killed because of something I did? Just thinking what happened to me…" Logan balled his hands into fists. "Charles, I may need to leave."
"Logan, I'll help you as much as I can. There are several possibilities here. Simply you coming to this school, being with these young adults, may be bringing this dream back. With so little to go on…I'm afraid I wouldn't know where to look to discover if this child was ever real. However sometimes dreams have a way of telling us things we need to know. In the dream, you mentioned you were running from something. Any idea what it was?"
Logan shook his head, "No, no idea. But I remember fear, terror like I've never felt. I'm so afraid for the child…"
Charles looked at his friend sadly, "I certainly don't want you to leave us, Logan, but if you feel that you must…I understand and I will assist you in every way possible."
Charles Xavier made his way to Cerebro after speaking to Logan. Cerebro was a supercomputer designed to work with his telepathy to detect mutants. He sensed more than heard the students arriving to the mansion, just coming in from a long day at school and more than ready for the weekend he suspected. And then Cerebro began flashing as a new mutant signature was found.
Mutants were humans with specific gene that typically manifested in the teen years. It gave them unique powers or abilities. In his own case he was a telepath, able to reach out with his mind to read the thoughts of others and communicate telepathically. As for Logan, he was able to regenerate tissue at an accelerated rate, had heightened senses, and a metal adamantium skeleton and claws that made him nearly indestructible.
The new mutant was a young girl, fifteen years old, by the name of Jordan Smith. The first scan over her file made him frown. She was a foster child, in custody of the state of New York and not very far from Bayville. She had a juvenile record which he gained access to, nothing good in there. Reports from several foster homes, disturbing signs of violence in her home and school life. His greatest fear that this would be a troubled young lady that wouldn't fit well with the institute he ran. Charles wasn't there to judge, especially without even meeting the potential student.
"Jean, I hope you didn't get too comfortable. I want to assemble a small team to accompany me to meet with a potential new student. Scott and Logan are going to meet us in the garage."
"Of course, Professor. Let me just put my books away, I'll be there in a minute."
Once they were on the road Professor Xavier filled the team in. "Her name is Jordan Smith, and is currently in foster care. I already spoke to her social worker and her foster mother, so they are expecting us. We want to keep our existence as quiet as possible, if the foster parents don't know anything is different we should try and keep it that way. While I speak to them, I'd like Logan and Jean to speak to Jordan privately."
"I'm not the best with this sort of thing, Charles," Logan said. "Maybe we should have Ororo come with instead."
"This girl seems to be a bit of a rebel. I think having you there as a possible mentor may be good."
Jordan's head started throbbing as soon as the guests entered the house. She was still in her bedroom. Mary had told her someone had called and was coming to meet her, something about a scholarship to a private boarding school.
"Professor Xavier, good to meet you," Randy Jacobson, shaking the Professor's hand.
"A pleasure, Mr. Jacobson. Is Jordan here?"
"I'm afraid she isn't feeling too well at the moment. We tried to find a way to get in contact with you…maybe today isn't the best day."
"We have driven a long way just to see her," Professor Xavier said softly and with disappointment. "I understand if she isn't feeling well, but we'd only be taking a few minutes to see if she was interested in the possibility. Perhaps Professor Logan and one of our students, Jean, can go up and speak to her? That way we I can go over some of what we offer at the institute with you and your wife?"
Jean looked up the steps. She felt Jordan up there, she was in pain and confused, a swarm of mixed emotions. Jean glanced at Professor Xavier and he gave her a look that told her he noticed the same thing. "Maybe if I go up alone? You know, just girl talk?"
Randy frowned, but nodded.
Jean knocked softly on the door, "Jordan? My name is Jean Grey, I wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?"
"Go away!" A hoarse voice cried from inside.
"Listen…I know you are probably scared and confused right now…but I can help you. I just want to talk."
Jordan didn't say anything this time, so Jean opened the door quietly and slipped in, closing it behind her.
Jordan was curled up in a ball, a pillow over her head. Jean sat next to her, putting a comforting hand on her back. "Hey, Jordan. Relax…I know it hurts, but it's only temporary."
"I know you aren't sick. I know your head is pounding, and that you don't understand what's happening to you…but I do, and I want to help."
Jordan felt the truth in Jean's voice, and felt it in the pit of her stomach. This girl was trying to help her. "I'm sick, something is wrong with me."
"Nothing is wrong with you. You've been given a special gift. You can do something no one else you know can."
A shiver ran up Jordan's spine, remembering Madge falling to the ground in pain. The weight of emotions that weren't hers pressing down on her, still falling down on her. "I…I don't know."
Jean caught the images from Jordan's mind, they were a bit unclear but let Jean know that Jordan was clueless to what was happening. "What if I told you there were others like you, and I'm one of them. Not many people know about us, and we have to keep it that way. All of us special in our own way. And that if you want to, you can come with us? We live together, learn to use our gifts and control them."
Jordan shook her head from beneath the pillow, "I don't have any gifts. I nearly knocked someone out without touching them…that's not a gift."
Jean rubbed Jordan's back softly, it was good that the young girl felt remorse for what she had done. "It can be a gift, if you make it your own. It's hard, starting out. That's why it's important to get help right away. We want to help you."
Jordan shivered at Jean's touch, and as the headache faded a bit. She felt three extra people downstairs. One was bored, having a hard time concentrating. Another was…there, but hard to read. And the third…he was anxious. She could sense Randy and Mary downstairs, she could almost pinpoint where they were sitting. She knew them, recognized the thought that was coming to her still aching head. And this third person she was reading had something similar, something she recognized. He was anxious and jittery, but keeping it in control.
Jordan pulled her head from under the pillow and looked at Jean for the first time. The girl was only a year older than her, maybe two, with long red hair and brilliant green eyes. "Who is downstairs with my foster parents?"
"Professor Xavier, who runs our boarding house, is here. Another student, Scott Summers, is here. And another instructor, Logan. Would you like to meet them?"
Jordan smoothed her hair and pulled herself out of bed. Jean was close behind her as they went downstairs.
"Ah, this must be Miss Smith," Professor Xavier said.
Jordan didn't look at the man, her eyes fell on the third person, the one that had intrigued her enough to leave the comfort of her bedroom. He looked over and met her eyes, her dark brown eyes. "Who are you?" She asked softly.
Professor Xavier narrowed his eyes on the young girl, and turned to look at Logan.
Logan stood up slowly and held his hand out to the young girl, "Name is Logan. How are you feeling?"
Jordan's eyes lost their focus for a moment as she listened to his gravely voice. "Have we met before?"
Logan narrowed his eyes at the girl now, and then widened a bit. "I think we may have…Jordan…"
At the same time something in each of their brains clicked. A memory that had been buried deep inside of both of them came back. Running through the forest, it was cold and dark…but there was a full moon. Logan could run fast, but they had unleashed the dogs. And no one could outrun a bullet. Logan remembered taking cover with the girl, "Its okay, Jordan. Daddy's not hurt, he's fine…but he needs you to stay quiet. Please, kiddo…stay quiet." Logan grimaced in pain as blood poured from his shoulder, and his body healed it and ejected the bullet.
Professor Xavier watched in amazement, watching Jordan's mind carefully as she and Logan stood locked in each others gaze. He held up a hand to silence Scott before he could speak.
Jordan was breathing hard, "It's not possible."
"Uh…Jordan, Professor Xavier is offering you a scholarship to join his school. He was just telling us some of the highlights, perhaps you'd like to hear them? And we can decide if you'd…"
"I'll go," Jordan said, never taking her eyes away from Logan. "They can help me."
"Jean, go upstairs and pack for Jordan. Scott, stay with the Jacobson's. Logan, Jordan, if I could speak to you outside." Xavier said.
Outside Jordan and Logan continued their staring contests. Memorizing each others features, hoping for more memories to resurface. Logan put a hand on the side of her face, she didn't flinch away from it. "You…you're real."
Jordan put her hand on his, "I wasn't sure you were real, either. Who…who are you, Logan?"
"Jordan…I think…I think he is your father," Professor Xavier said, when Logan couldn't say the words.
Jordan sat in the van with Logan. "Jordan, you are a mutant. So am I. Because of what we are what have unique abilities…I can't explain it, but Charles probably could. My body heals itself at a fast rate, and because of this ability…about ten years ago someone experimented on me. The lined my bones with a metal alloy, it's nearly indestructible. And when they did that…I lost most of my memories. That dream…the same dream you told me about, is the only thing I remember about you."
Jordan looked at her hands in her lap. Her headache was gone now, but she couldn't say she was thinking any more clearly. "This…is a lot to take in. I don't know any of you, and I've already agreed to come and live with you. I don't know why. I don't even know what the hell I can do."
Logan swallowed hard, and put his hand on hers, "I want you to come with us, Jordan. I want to…I need to find out of you are my daughter…I know you are. I just know you are."
Jordan looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears, "I want to go. I am going."
The drive back to Bayville was long. Charles took the time to speak to Jordan, getting to know her and assess her abilities as much as he could. When they were home, he took a strand of hair from Jordan, and one from Logan, to use for DNA comparison. While waiting for the results Ororo came to learn about the newest student.
"Jordan has telepathic powers. She can't read minds exactly, but reads others emotions so clearly that she feels them herself. It's something that will be uncomfortable for her for a while, but I think she will learn to gain control. She can also recognize others by their own unique physic fingerprint, if you may. It also appears that she can manifest a psychic blast, overloading another's mind with psychic energy, she gave a young girl quite a migraine from it earlier today. And it appears she has created some sort of telepathic link to Logan."
"How was that possible?" Ororo asked.
Professor looked over the results of the test, "Something that was forged between father and daughter, it appears. It's possible that she had some of her powers, a very weak version of them, as a young child and that was when it was created. They may be little more than strangers at the moment, but they already share a bond."
"Logan…has a daughter?" Ororo muttered.
"Yes," Charles said softly. "I almost didn't need the test…she does have his eyes, after all. What concerns me is a memory they both shared. Something traumatic happened in that memory, and neither of them know quite what it was. Logan's memory was damaged, and Jordan may have simply blocked it out at her young age. It may explain a lot. Why Jordan has, in the past, acted out the way she did. And why Logan lost his memory to begin with."
"So, how will this work?" Ororo asked.
"I've taken custody of Jordan, I'll be her legal guardian. It is…unfortunately, impossible to have Logan legally take custody of her, seeing as he doesn't officially exist. No birth certificate, social security number…nothing. She'll be a ward of the state until she is eighteen under our care."