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Secret Burdens
Chapter Thirteen: Bed of Lilies



“Answers weren’t what he wanted anymore. Everything had changed.”

* * *


“Now, Wolvie…” Kitty started, hands raised before her, as though trying to calm an animal about to pounce. Behind her, the multiple computer screens in the research lab silently sifted through information.

Raising a brow, Logan’s smirk widened at the sight of her stuttering for an excuse. He took another long drag from the cigar in his hand and stood up from leaning in toward her. He stared at her silently as he released the smoke into the air.

“I really don’t know anything, okay?” Kitty began hesitantly, hands still in the air before her.

Logan’s gaze flicked to the computer screens behind her and Kitty turned her head to follow his gaze. Quickly, she reached back to the keyboard and hit a couple keys that immediately filed away the information on screen.

Logan grumbled at her action, frowning at her and Kitty turned back to him sheepishly. “Captain’s orders, mate.”

Logan’s frown deepened. What would Storm have Kitty investigating that she couldn’t tell him?

“Look, all I know is that Storm wanted me to look into something. I really don’t know beyond that, so please, please, stop looking at me like that Wolvie. You’re giving me the bejeebies.” When Logan didn’t answer her, she cocked an eyebrow at him, leaning forward a bit. “Logan? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Logan blinked at Kitty before turning to walk out the door. “You’ve said enough for the both o’ us, kiddo.”

Kitty grumbled to herself as the sliding door closed behind Logan. “Great,” she sighed, rubbing a hand down her face and wondering how angry Storm would be that she blabbed so quickly.

* * *

Later that night, after classes had ended and dinner had been served, Logan walked down from his room in search of Ororo. At this point, he knew enough not to interrupt any of her duties concerning the students. If he wanted to talk to her he would have to find her when she was on her own. He had been descending the staircase toward the front foyer when he found Warren standing at the bottom of the stairs. Peter was just behind him.

“Logan,” Warren greeted, somber.

Raising a brow at them, Logan stopped his descent and crossed his arms. “Yeah, boys?”

Warren’s wings twitched slightly, his feathers nestling against his skin as he stepped toward Logan. All of a sudden, Logan was aware of the tightness of Warren’s features, the hard line his mouth was set in, the furrow of his brow. He watched him swallow thickly. Glancing to Peter, Logan caught a hesitant worry fleeting across the stoic man’s features.

“Ororo sent us. X-business.”

At Warren’s remark, Logan looked back down to him. “What is it?” he asked, his arms uncrossing.

Shaking his head, Warren continued, “She hasn’t told us yet. Just that there would be a meeting tomorrow in the conference room that would require all X-men to be present. She said Hank was flying in tomorrow morning at 10 and we should all be informed of the situation when we gather at noon.”

Peter stepped forward. “She looks worried. More than I’ve seen her in a long time.” He bore his gaze into Logan, and Logan could see the concern settled deep in his eyes. “Not since Alcatraz,” he intoned meaningfully.

Logan stared at Peter, his teeth grinding. “Where is she?”

Warren threw his thumb back, motioning toward the back entrance through the rec room. “I saw her head toward the greenhouse last.” He moved to go up the stair past Logan. “We’ll see you tomorrow then. And let’s hope it’s only a false alarm.”

Logan scoffed. “Sure, bub. Let’s do that,” he grumbled as he walked past them toward the rec room and the porch entrance out back.

Peter sighed and followed Warren up the stairs toward their rooms. “I really hope he doesn’t make things worse,” he said under his breath, almost wishing Logan could still hear him.

* * *

Even in the dark of night, Logan could make out the form of Ororo through the glass walls of the dimly lit greenhouse, where she stood toward the end of her indoor jungle. He strode toward the entrance, pulling the glass door open and suddenly, he was assaulted with the scent of all her plants. The overpowering perfume of her African violets flooded his nostrils. He looked around and found himself surrounded by white jasmine flowers, and as he walked further in, following the pebbled and dirt path winding toward the back of the large glass structure, he found more colorful flowers encompassing the room. All around were spread poincianas, pepper flowers, bright tropical orchids and all colors of carrion flowers that littered the dense vegetation on all sides. He passed a pond on his left carrying Egyptian lotus along its surface. But the scent of acacias was what pulled him further along the path.

He found her standing among her plants on the far side by one of the glass walls. Her hands were framing the long-stemmed white Calla lily that sprouted from the ground at her feet. The lilies were all around her. Logan stopped for a moment to watch her. She had on a pair of worn jeans shorts, and she was wearing that same old t-shirt, reading “I Ran with Mexicans” across the breast, that he found her in that morning so long ago when he had selfishly asked her “Did you love him?”. Logan stopped at the memory. This was not going to happen again.

He glanced at her feet and noticed she was barefoot. A smile crept across his face. He looked up to find her long white hair loosely braided down her back. The urge to reach out and touch her hair was so strong he found himself stepping toward her without knowing it. She turned to him.

Logan sucked in a small breath when he saw her shaky blue irises lock onto his. Her eyes gleamed with the threat of tears and Logan found that he never wanted to see them like that again. She tried to form a slight smile, but it crumbled slowly and she turned back toward the lily in her hands, taking in a deep trembling breath. “Oh, Logan,” she breathed.

He was next to her before he even realized he needed to be, his hand just below her shoulder blade. There was an urgency in his touch. “Storm.”

When she didn’t answer him, he moved his hand up to grip her shoulder lightly and turn her toward him. “Storm,” he said again, this time louder, surer. “What is it?”

Ororo’s eyes met his and she swallowed down the fear, the apprehension. She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Logan, I do not know. And that is what frightens me.”

Logan didn’t think anything could scare Ororo. But then again, he didn’t think anything could hurt her either. And hadn’t he proved that one wrong time and again? Logan growled inwardly and pushed the thought aside. He put his hand to her cheek to turn her face toward him once more. She opened her eyes obligingly, her lashes fluttering against her lids. Logan bore his dark gaze into hers, the hand on her cheek falling to her neck. “Tell me.”

Another heavy sigh left Ororo’s body and she gripped his hand on her neck. “I fear the X-men may need to enter yet another battle soon. Very soon if I am correct. And…” Ororo’s eyes searched Logan’s. “And I am not ready to lose another friend, if it should come to that.” She pulled Logan’s hand from her and stepped past him along the pebbled path.

Logan turned and silently watched her walk toward the pond just behind them. She knelt beside it and reached a hand out to touch one of the floating Egyptian lotuses.

“Who’s General Shrap?” Logan finally asked, his tone a bit harsh. It was difficult to hide the slight anger he felt in her leaving him in the dark about this. He knew she heard it too.

Turning her head in his direction, Ororo raised a brow from her kneeling position beside the water. “If you are upset that I had not informed you earlier, then your anger is misplaced,” she stated calmly. Looking back at the beautiful floating flowers before her, she continued. “Aside from the trust placed in me by Hank to keep silent on the issue until further information could be disclosed, I am also the leader of the X-Men. And as such, it is up to my discretion what is to be shared with the team. I had not known enough yesterday, when Hank first asked for my assistance, to have worried you all needlessly with only rumors of an issue.”

“But it’s more than that now, ain’t it?” Logan pushed. “It’s got you worried, Storm. I know. I can smell it on ya.”

Ororo glanced at him once more, eyes narrow. She was perturbed that he could sense such things without her wanting to reveal them. It made her feel too vulnerable, too open. She needed to regain the control of this conversation. Standing fully, Ororo turned to face Logan. “Yes. The situation has now warranted the surveillance of the X-Men, and I fear, our interference as well. However, I do not have much to go on until Hank arrives tomorrow morning.”

Logan stepped closer toward her, arms up in a peaceful approach. “But ya could still tell me stuff, right? There’s more, ain’t there? That you do know.”

Ororo eyed him suspiciously.

Cocking his head in her direction, Logan went on. “I’m not just any of the X-Men anymore. Am I?”

Ororo remained silent, considering him for a moment. She glanced out the glass wall of the greenhouse toward the mansion. There were lights on in most of the rooms, where the children of Xavier’s Institute called their home. Rogue was in one of those rooms. So were Kitty and Bobby and Peter. Warren now, too. She looked back to Logan. No, he wasn’t like the others. And it wasn’t just because they were the students and she and he were the adults. It wasn’t because she had fought alongside him so much more. It wasn’t because Charles trusted him with The Dream as dearly as he had trusted her. It was because looking at Logan like this seemed to always loosen her tongue. Whether in anger or scolding or nostalgia, something about this man made her want to speak volumes. He made her want to tell him truths she had thought would never come to light. There was something about Logan that steadily, determinedly, weaseled its way into her thoughts. And she had the damnedest time trying to shake him out.

These days, she didn’t even want to.

But this was what Logan was talking about. This was the trust and the honesty that they had each asked of each other. It started here. It started at the beginning.

Ororo took a step toward him so that they were almost eye level, her stance only inches from his. Her eyes searched his. “Logan, there is something I need to explain to you, but before that, I want you to know that I will not break my word to Hank. You will learn all at the meeting tomorrow with the other X-Men.”

Logan’s chest rose in frustration, but the growl brewing in his throat was stopped by the gentle touch of Ororo’s soft fingers to his lips. It was so sudden it startled him into silence immediately.

“Please, Logan. Please let me finish.” Her eyes were pleading, the tender touch of her fingers pressed to his lips firm yet unsure.

He couldn’t take his eyes from her.

Sighing, and closing her eyes, Ororo pulled her hand from Logan’s mouth, taking his silence as his motion for her to continue. Her gaze fell to the floor beside her. “You once asked me if I loved him.”

Logan’s eyes widened unconsciously. He knew who she was talking about. But why was she bringing this up now? Hadn’t he let her know that he was fine? He was fine not knowing. That wasn’t what he was interested in anymore.

“You asked me if I loved…” Ororo started slowly, her gaze meeting Logan’s once more, “Scott. You asked about him once.” Her blue eyes were piercing Logan’s.

He didn’t need to hear this. But the need in her eyes held him motionless. “I don’t care,” he breathed. “I don’t care anymore. That’s not what I-“

“But I do care” she interrupted. Taking in a deep breath, Ororo placed a hand on Logan’s chest. Her touch was warm and steady, and unconsciously, Logan leaned into it. “I did. I did love him”

Logan expelled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ororo.” He ran a hand roughly through his thick, dark hair. “Why did you…? You don’t need to explain anythin’, darlin’.” But there was something in Logan’s chest that constricted harshly at her words. God, this was not supposed to happen. It was what he wanted in the first place, right? This was what he was looking for when he started this whole bullshit mess.

He never thought it would hurt this much.

“Logan, please, I need to tell you this because…because it is important to me that you understand.” Ororo’s eyes were moist and clouding white. Logan could smell the threat of rain, even through the smell of acacias he had become accustomed to waking to. “I need you to understand everything,” she beseeched him.

Logan’s brow furrowed and he had to stop himself from taking a step back from her, separate from her touch. Her hand at his chest held him there. “Alright. If that’s what ya need to do, then do it. Go ahead.”

Ororo was pained at his initial rejection of her confession. This was not what he should know. There was so much more to it, so much more to her. But if she wanted him to accept all the things that made her the person she was then this was something he’d have to accept as well. She cleared her throat. “I never “ never - made my feelings known to Scott. You need to know that. I never acted on anything. I knew that he loved Jean, and I loved Jean dearly enough to not interfere.”

“Did she know?” Logan found that his voice came out clipped.

Ororo almost winced at his defensive manner. He noticed.

Logan swallowed, trying to soften his features, let her know that he wasn’t asking in defense of Jean. He’d already promised to lay that burden down.

Recognizing his silent change in manner, she went on softly, her head hanging slightly in recollection. “Jean…eventually knew. And…and the pathetic part is that she actually offered to step back.”

Logan could hear her voice cracking, the quake lining her slight accent. Logan suddenly brought his hand to cover hers on his chest. It gave her confidence she didn’t realize she still carried. Taking in a deep breath, Ororo brought her eyes back to meet the dark gaze of Logan’s. “She had said that she valued our friendship too much to cause me such pain. And I almost took her up on it. But it was what made me realize that she was deserving of him, and that I was not.”

Logan’s grip tightened on her hand and his stare turned heated. “You’re every bit deserving, Storm,” he ground out. “What the hell ever made you think otherwise?”

Ororo blinked at him. Her face crumbled into pain, her free hand rising up to cover her tearing eyes. She sucked in a shaky breath. “Oh Logan…I cannot…” She had begun to shake. “I do not think I can even…” She was shaking her head, her eyes covered to his gaze still. “I am sorry, Logan. I am so very sorry. You have more than earned my trust. And I could not share this with you until now.”

Logan took that moment as his opening. “And why now Storm?”

Ororo stopped shaking her head, her trembling breaths falling silent. She drew her hand from her face and Logan found her white swirling eyes filled with warm tears. There was a wet trail down one cheek. “What?” she whispered.

Logan looked at her meaningfully. “Why now, Storm? Why tell me now? What’s changed?”

Ororo blinked again in confusion, glancing around for whatever answer she thought Logan was looking for. “I…I have changed, Logan. And so have you. I no longer wish us to be strangers.” She became suddenly aware of her hand still alighted on his chest, the feel of his warmth beneath his shirt. She pulled her hand back.

But suddenly, Logan had her by the wrists, his grip tight on her skin and she was surprised to find his gaze hard on hers. She pulled in a sharp breath. “Logan…” she began, warning.

“But it’s not just that is it, Storm?” Logan brought himself closer to her, and his proximity made Ororo want to pull back once more, but she found herself motionless against him. “There’s something else… something else you’re not sharing.” His thumb moved along her skin and gazed her pulse point, the motion intimate in a way that had Ororo’s breathing quickening. She glanced at his hand on her wrist and narrowed her eyes. Her features were hard once more as she turned her face to Logan.

“You assume too much,” she bit out, now stepping back fully from him.

Logan growled and, suddenly, she was yanked back to him, flush against him, and the sudden contact had Ororo swallowing thickly.

“Stop,” Logan demanded. His breath fanned her face, his voice low and heavy. The room felt unreasonably hot to Ororo. “Stop pretendin’” he ground out.

Ororo’s mouth fell open in protest as she tugged against his grip. “Logan,” she bit out, her teeth grinding.

“No.”

“Logan,” she warned once more, but this time, he could hear the yielding in her voice. It made him bold.

“No,” he urged once more, pushing into her. He licked his lips as his eyes shot down to look at her trembling mouth. His breath hitched, his dark stare becoming hooded as he looked back to her wide eyes. Her face was flushed, the warmth of his breath easing her limbs into surrender and she found herself leaning into his body.

“Something else has changed, Ororo. You want honesty?” he breathed, his deep timber resonating throughout her body. He glanced at her lips once more, and when she licked them in anticipation, he let out an unconscious groan. She shuddered at the sound. His grip tightened on her wrists and he pulled her hands to his chest, looking straight into her eyes. “You’re all I think about.”

Ororo had only a moment to process that thought before she found Logan’s warm lips urgent against hers and a craving she hadn’t known was there, suddenly enflamed.

It started here. It started at the beginning.





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