Title: The Wind in Her Ears
Author: CJ
Email: cjh74012@yahoo.com
Rating: G/PG
Summary:  Morgan and her talk over a few things.
Disclaimer:  Morgan is the only one I have any real claim on.  The
other two, well, I wish, but wishing doesn't make it so!
Notes:  Heather started it with Firefly.  Terri added fuel to the
fire with Chasing Home.  Then Heather did this:  "Now if we could
only convince CJ to write a third part - twenty years later when
Logan and Marie's daughter hears the wind in her ears and needs to
just be free...  ;)   Terri did this: " and I second your nomination of CJ for more in this storyline....oh, CJ?  I think I hear the bunnies headed your way......."   And the story below is what I did.  BTW any and all typos, mispellings, missed grammar are entirely my fault and certainly not the fault of the wonderful person who previewed this for me!

--------------------

"I remember.  I remember what it was like when I was little.  I
remember those times that Dad would take off and leave us for weeks
or months.  He always made sure to call once or twice a week whenever
he was gone.  They weren't ever really very long calls but he made
them. They were long enough to tell a little girl that he loved her
and missed her and that he'd be back. I remember that sometimes he
sent me a postcard.  I still have all of them."  Mom smiles at me
when I say that.  "It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized
just how much that really meant; that he hadn't always done that
before I came along.  It must have been a little hard, never knowing
when he was going to be back and not hearing from him.

"You always told me that when I was born, something inside of him
changed.  That I gave you both something you didn't have before."

"That's only the truth, sweetheart.  You know, when I was carrying
you....I think that was the second longest time he was ever able to
hold off leaving.  He didn't get 'the look' again until a little
while after your first birthday.  I think it was probably because he
was so wrapped up in us both that whatever it was that made him
restless went to sleep for a while.  I know that having you here with
us was a big part of that."

"Really?  What was the first longest?"

"When he finally faced up to facts and told me he loved me."  I watch
her face as she drifts away in the memory of that time.  "He told me
that there wasn't any way he could exist if I didn't love him back." 
She kind of ducked her head and blushed.  "Well,  we couldn't have
the world without a Wolverine, could we?  That was when he married
me."

I just smile at her.  We're sitting on the porch swing.  It's getting
kind of late, but this is the first time I've been home in over two
years.  I work for the Xavier foundation now and I've been in
Ireland, setting up placement centers and locating the people who
need our help.

We're waiting on dad.  He was called up to Xavier's and he doesn't
know I'm here yet.  Mom and I are getting reacquainted in that way
that never really seems to happen when you talk on the phone.   For
some reason, she's in the mood to talk about the early times
together.  Must be something in the air.  I'm not complaining.  I
love it when my mom talks to me about this stuff.  Oh, she always
keeps the private stuff private, thank you very much, 'cause I don't
really want to know about that -- I mean, they're my parents! 

We've always been close, but the last few years she's talked to me
about different stuff.  It's like I'm not just her daughter anymore,
I'm one of her best friends.  That's not really it either, but, like
my dad, I'm not always good at saying what I mean.

"So, what happened that first time he left?  I mean, after you guys
got married."

"Well, Scott and 'Ro thought I'd lost my mind.  I was the one that
told him to go.  He'd been getting that look, you know?  I knew he
needed to go, but you know your dad.  He was determined to prove to
that he meant what he told me; that he loved me enough to stay.  I
knew that, but I also knew that it would kill something if he stayed
right then.   So I told him the story about the fireflies."

I had to laugh a little at that.  I knew what story she meant.  When
she was little, she caught one and kept it in a jar.  She poked holes
in the lid so it could breathe but it never did light for her even
though she watched it for hours.  Keeping them in a jar kills them,
no matter if they can breathe or not.  She wasn't going kill what
they had by making him stay.  Dad knew what she meant.  She wasn't
going to let him kill what he felt for her -- even by accident --
because he thought he was doing right.  She didn't want him to feel
like she 'owned' him. 

"Then I told him to leave the tags and that way I'd know he was
coming back.  He was gone for almost three months that first time."

When she found out she was pregnant was during one of the times he
was gone.  That was about the time her mom died too. She says it was
a little rough on her emotionally, having all three things happen at
once.  Not that she wasn't happy about being pregnant.  I guess
they'd wanted that for a long time, but just having everything at
once was a little hard.  "A little hard" -- that's how my parents
describe what other people would say was hell.

"When I found out I was pregnant, well, I was a little worried about
him leaving.  I didn't want him not to leave, I just was worried
about what that might do to you; how it might make you feel."

I knew.  She was worried that she wouldn't be able to explain things
to me.  I guess she had some issues about not being important to her
folks and she was worried about me feeling the same way, what with
dad just taking off every now and then.  She always wanted me to feel
like nothing was more important than me.

"I know, mom.  I know you worried about me not feeling important.  I
always knew he loved you best, but I knew that he loved me too.  I
think, maybe, you were off the mark a little there."

She gave me one of those 'oh, really, young lady?' looks.  I laughed
and hugged her.

"See you wanted me to feel like I was the most important, but here's
what I think.  I think the most important thing any father can do for
his kids is just what dad does without thinking about it ---love
their mother with everything in him.  If he really does that, then
the things that matter to her matter to him too.  Does that make
sense the way I said it?  Anyway, knowing that he loved you so much,
it always told me that I could have that someday; that it was the way
I wanted someone to love me.

"Whenever I see the way he looks at you, the way he can't hardly keep
from touching you whenever you're in the same room, even if it's just
brushing against your arm for a minute; when I see you hold a whole
conversation without saying a word to each other, I know that's what
I want.  It's like, I don't know, mom......it's like you share the
same soul or something, like you make up two parts of a whole
person.  I want someone like that."

For a while, we just sit in silence as the swing rocks back and forth
gently.  It's good to just be together again after so long apart. 
Both of us are lost in memories.

The first time I really remember knowing that he left was when I was
about three or maybe four, I woke up and went running into their
bedroom.  Couldn't wait to jump on both of them and wrestle and
tickle and just be a family.  He was gone.  Mom was there all alone,
holding onto his tags and she had a sad look on her face.  The thing
I remember most though was that he was gone.  That, and the fact that
he never even said good-bye to me.  I also remember being really
scared because mom looked sad and he was gone and I didn't know what
happened.

Mom just pulled me up close to her, though, and kissed me and held me
and told me that he was okay, he just had to go away for a little
while and he hadn't told me good-bye because I was  asleep.  She said
that sometimes Dad just had to go away for a little while, but he'd
always be back, that he loved both of us too much to ever stay away. 
He called that night and told me the same thing and I never ever
wondered about it after that.  Leaving was just something that my dad
did.  He always came back to the people who were most important to
him.

"What are you thinking about, sweetheart?"

That's her standard line.  If I had a nickle for every time I've
heard her ask me or dad that, well, there wouldn't have to be any
fund-raisers for the school for at least another twenty years!

"I was just thinking about 'hearing the wind'.  It wasn't until I was
about sixteen or so that I started to really understand what it was
that made him have to leave.  You always said I got a lot from dad. 
I have the senses.  I have the healing factor.  It was when I turned
sixteen; that's when I started to hear the same thing he did --
to 'hear the wind in my ears'.  But I think I hear it different than
he does."

"What do you mean?"

"I can remember laying awake at night sometimes and listening to the
night sounds outside my window.  All I wanted to do was walk through
the shadows in the woods.  You know, just sit and let the night wash
over me; listen to the thrumming of the life all around.  It was like
a physical need to breathe in the scents and have them fill me; hear
the water running in the stream nearby and feel it glide over my skin
while I laid in it.  I had to curl up in the undergrowth.  It was
like I had to sleep in the heart of the forest, drink in the solitude
and the quiet, and let the sun wake me in the morning with its warmth
on my skin.

"Of course, there were other nights that it didn't feel so peaceful. 
Nights when I could hear the blood racing through my veins and feel a
restlessness that seemed to come out of nowhere.  It was a burning
need to run through those same shadows, to hunt down the small
animals --- not to kill them but just to prove that I could. 

"By the time I was seventeen, it was hard to resist the pull.  I used
to sneak out at night."

She laughs softly at that.  "Yes, I do seem to remember something
about that myself."

I hang my head, a litte embarrassed.  "I know it worried you. 
Probably for lots of reasons, not the least of which was the kind of
trouble a seventeen year old girl with a feral side and raging
hormones could get into.  I realize now it was dangerous, but I
didn't worry about it then.  I could usually count on Dad following
me.  I never did figure out how he knew which nights were which."

She smiles at me.  "He didn't.  He followed you every time you left. 
Maybe on the nights you were hunting you were just more 'aware'.  
Once he realized what it was that was happening, that it was the same
sort of thing that made him have to go on the road, he made sure you
could take care of yourself -- whatever might happen.  He wasn't very
happy about the fact that you got a bit of the feral side from him."

"I know.  I heard  you talking about it once.  I still remember that
being the only time I ever wondered it there was something wrong with
me."
**********************************************************************

"I'm sorry, Marie.  I never meant for it to happen, you know that.  I
never meant for it to be this way with her.  I know it's hard,
darlin'.  I know it's never going to be easy, but we've done okay
with it. You've been real good at keeping things in line, baby.  You
always know just what to do.

"I know it's going to be hard for her and I'm sorry for that.  You
just wanted it to be better for her than it was for you or me and you
made it be that way, darlin'.  You did it.  You made her know that
she's more important than anything and you helped me be able to make
her know that too.  You taught me how to let her know that.  You
helped me to figure it out.  I'm sorry that she got it from me."

"Logan, stop.  I don't blame you for anything.  It's not that. 
I ..... I don't know exactly how to say it. I'm scared for her. 
Scared that she won't have what I, we, have.  It's going to be harder
for her because she's a woman.  We both know that men are put
together different.  I'm not saying that it's ever been easy for me
to let you go when you needed to.  It hasn't.  You know that.  You
know how much I miss you.  But, can you honestly say that it wouldn't
have been harder for you if things had been the other way around?  If
I was the one that heard the wind?"

**********************************************************************

"In some ways it's easier for me though, mom.  The urge to run
doesn't come as often as it always did for dad.  I have a theory. 
Want to hear it?"

She nods, looking at me curiously.

"I think it's because there was so much in his life and some of it
broke him.  It was like the stuff that was done to him a long time
ago stripped him down to nothing inside and, kind of, I don't know,
kind of 'split' him or something.  It's like there are two people,
one of them is Logan -- he's my dad.  One of them is Wolverine --
he's more like a protector and he's my 'other' dad.  I've never been
afraid of him, but he's more wild, more animal.  When dad would
leave, it was because the Wolverine needed to be out for a while.  I
know we never talk about him, but I think he's the built in "anger
management" from being broken.  Whenever things get too frustrating
or when there's a real threat, that's when Wolverine turns up.

"So, I think part of it was because dad needed answers to questions. 
When he couldn't find them, he got frustrated and after a while,
Wolverine would have to 'hunt'.  I know he didn't remember a lot
beyond fifteen years before he met you.  I think some of that leaving
had to do with having been broken or something.  It was like
Wolverine had to hunt, but when he hunts it's not just to prove he
can do it. What he really needed to hunt was answers but because of
what he's like, he didn't know the questions.

"With me, I never have had a minute in my life that I didn't know who
I was or that there was some place I belong.  I never had any
question that you loved me -- that you both loved me.  I never had
anything happen that took away any of myself -- not like dad.  Or
even you, for that matter. 

"I think that's why he was starting to stay home for longer by the
time I started sneaking out.  Because he'd had all those years of
building memories with you -- with us -- and the more memories he
built, the less he needed the ones he didn't have.  Since I didn't
have to deal with any of that kind of stuff, I don't hear the wind
the same way he does.  So in some ways, it's not as hard on me.  What
do you think?"

She's got a few tears and it takes a minute before she can answer
me.  "I think maybe you're right.  I think maybe that's true."  She
pauses a minute and then teases me, "How old are you now?  120?  You
must have thought about this a lot."

I smile back at her.  "Yeah, I guess I do.  Don't get me wrong,I hear
it.  There are times that the road calls to me and I can't stay put. 
I have to go.  You know that.  Did he ever tell you what happened the
first time?  No?  I'm surprised.  I thought he told you everything. 

"Well, the first time that it happened, you remember?   It was 'after
graduation and before college.' "  She snorts a little.

"I'm sorry, mom.  I don't think I ever told you that.  I am sorry
that I scared you.  I didn't even really think about what I was doing
at the time.  I just took off one night.  I didn't even leave a note
or anything. When dad caught up with me two days later,I was in a
bar/restaurant.  He was not too happy.  I wasn't doing anything he
hadn't ever done - and sure wasn't doing some of what he has -" (I
hear her mutter, "Thank God", under her breath) - "but he let me know
I'd handled it wrong.

"He understood about having to go.  I guess that shouldn't have
surprised me, but for some reason it did; guess all kids
automatically think their parents aren't going to understand them!
He'd even seen it coming on and I guess he thought you had too.  He
let it be known that I wasn't ever to leave without leaving you
something to let you know I'd be back.  He made me call you to let
you know I was okay.  I was a little afraid he was going to try and
make me come back, but he told me to be careful and to watch my back;
to remember to take care of myself -- that on my own I couldn't count
on anyone else to do it.  I knew what he meant, but he's, you know,
dad and he wasn't about to say out loud that I had his permission
to 'experiment'.  I followed him outside and we went to his bike.

"I told him to hang on a minute and went to my car.  Yes, I could
have taken a bike, but after all, I am your daughter too and even
though the bike is good for short-timing, I prefer to travel in
comfort.  Anyway, if I want to hear the wind whistle, all I have to
do is roll down the window.  I got Boo-bear out of my duffle." 

It's the only stuffed animal I still have.  It's the one that dad
gave me when I was born.  He's pretty disreputable looking. 
Somewhere along the way, he's lost both eyes and we finally just
painted them on with fabric paint.  His fur is worn in places and
some of the stitching has come loose around his right ear.

"I remember dad looked at the him and then back at me with a eyebrow
quirked." 

**********************************************************************

"Ask mom to take care of him for me until I get back, would you?"

"I can't believe you brought him out here in the first place, Mo. 
He's too young for this sort of thing, you know.  What were you
thinking?"

"Yeah, well," I shrugged a little, "I guess I wasn't thinking.  Or
maybe I was thinking that everybody has to grow up sometime."

He looked at me a minute more, nodded his head once and then tucked
the bear into his jacket.

"I'll tell her, but you know, he's going to miss you while you're
gone.  Try not to make it too long this time out.  It's a little hard
on the ones left behind, even when they know that it's just something
you have to do.  You remember everything I taught ya, right?"

"Yes, dad, I remember.  I'll be back, I promise.  We'll just call
this one a trial run, okay?"

He reached out an grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.  I could tell
he probably didn't like the idea any more than mom did -- most
probably less than she did.

"You sure you got to do this?"

I nodded.

"I'm so sorry, baby.  So sorry that I gave you this.  It's a hard row
to hoe, darlin', having something inside that won't let you be where
you want to be sometimes.  You need us, we're right here."

"Then he let me go and climbed onto his bike.  He didn't look back
once he pulled out of the parking lot."
**********************************************************************
***************************************
I shake myself out of the reverie.  "You mean, he really didn't tell
you?"

"No, he just said you were okay and that you wanted me to watch after
Boo-bear until you got back.  I'm just glad it only took you three
weeks to get home.  I worried the whole time that something would
happen."

"I'm surprised he didn't follow me." I laugh and say to her.

"Well, he almost did.  I think he thought that I couldn't take both
of you being gone at the same time.  It's possible that he was right
about that.  It was always hard to let him go, but it's even harder
for moms to realize that their babies aren't babies anymore.  And I
know, that as hard it was for me, it wasn't easy for him either.  I
worry about that for you."

I put my arm around her and hug her close for a while.  "Well, you
don't have to worry.  I'm a big girl now, twenty-five whole years,
remember?  I mean I know about sex and everything!"

"Morgan!" but she's laughing.  We've never been too shy about things
around here.

"Oh, Morgan.......  I just, I don't know, it might be kind of a
strange thing for a mother to say, but I don't think it's something
other mothers haven't thought about.  I just, I want you to have
someone who can do that for you; someone who can love and accept all
of you.  I want you to have someone who can give you what your dad's
given me, you know?  He gives me so much.  And, since you brought it
up, I want you to know that there's so much more than sex.... I want
you to have someone in your life that makes LOVE to you every time he
touches you, no matter how wild the sex part is...... someone you can
trust with all of you.  That's what makes the dance worthwhile."

Now it's my turn to blush.  I mean, my parents exploits - some of
them anyway - are pretty legendary.  I just try not to think about it
too much, like I said before --- they are my parents!

From out of the darkness I hear another opinion delivered in a low
growl.  "Well, God help the bastard that ever touches her with
anything else in mind."  Wouldn't you just know?

"Dad! Why didn't you say something? How long have you been standing
out there?"

"What?  A man can't just watch the two women he loves the most in the
world for a minute?  Only ever saw one sight that was more beautiful
than this one....that was the first time your mom held you on the
night you were born."  He steps up on the porch and gives me a hug,
settles into the porch swing with us, taking mom on his lap.  I
swear, sometimes the two of them are just like old teenagers. 

"Welcome home, Mo.  Missed you.  To answer your second question, I've
been out here long enough to know that your mother wants you to be
with a male version of her."  He's teasing her, but I know he means
that he couldn't be what he is without her; that he wasn't ever able
to give anybody that until she came along.

"Well, that's kind of the other thing that brought me home.  I wanted
to talk to you about someone."

I have their undivided attention now, but judging from the look on
dad's face, he's not sure he wants to hear this.

"I think maybe I found him.  We've been together for a little over a
year now.  I know.  I didn't say anything when I called before
because, well, because I wanted to be sure that it was working out.
After those times it didn't work, well, I didn't want you to worry
about me again.  I meant it when I said hear the wind different.  It
truly doesn't pull at me as strong and the times that it has, well,
he always takes really good care of Boo-bear and, mom, I think I can
trust him with all of me. He's coming in on a flight in three days to
meet you and...... and I love him."

They're both just looking at me.  I guess it was kind of a surprise. 
Now they both pull me into a hug and I know they're glad for me.

"He makes you happy?"  That's from my dad.  I just nod my
head.  "Well, then okay.  I'll try not to gut him."  He's teasing
me.  I know that he's happy for me and that he's relieved that the
wind doesn't blow as hard for me.

Later, I hear them out on the swing.  I've gone to bed and I can hear
them talking through the window.

"See, darlin'.  I told you.  You made everything turn out okay for
her.  You made it better than you had it.  You even managed somehow
to make the wind blow less hard for her.  Same as you did for me."

"No, sugar.  We did it together.  Just like you promised me.  We
figured it out.  I love you, Logan."

"I know, darlin'.  Me too.  Ever and always."

If he hadn't heard the wind blowing in his ears, maybe dad would have
been stuck in some little town somewhere instead of working the
circuit that took him to that bar in Laughlin City.  It always blew
him back home eventually.  If you want to hear something really
funny, it was a gust of wind knocking me off balance on a street
corner in Belfast that led me to Ian.  Maybe the wind blowing isn't
such a bad thing.