The red haired telepath was their first lost, and she hated the knowledge that Jean will not be their last loss. If her former students decided to join the team, they could follow suit. She could follow suit. Ororo never feared facing death, growing up as a thief in Cairo wasn’t a promise for longevity, and neither was being an X-Men. No. Ororo feared losing her family.
She had lost Jean, and now, she was losing Scott. Though Jean was her best friend, and Ororo considered her a sister even, the relationship she had with Summers was something else. They had both joined Xavier only a few months apart, and they had both been orphans. Family-less with powers that could potentially destroy the planet, the two had been drawn together, quickly bonding. Jean, who had already been there and claimed Scott’s affections when he first laid eyes on her, formed a quick and easy friendship with Ororo, helping the weather witch adjust to the different culture. The three of them were inseparable.
Until four days ago.
Ororo stood outside of the door to Scott’s room. He had insisted that he keep the room he had shared with his fiancé, even after Ororo had suggested he slept somewhere else; it would hurt too much. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other. The second night, Ororo had sneaked into his room, curled up behind him on the bed, and cried.
She knew better than anyone how badly he hurt.
A year and a half after coming here, while Jean, Scott and herself lounged out on the patio, Jean had suggested she created a telepathic link between the three of them. It would make communication easy during a mission. Ororo and Scott had agreed, and has the years past and the Institute grew with more students and they became teachers, that link became handy. They were able to gossip quietly, and share stories in private during loud events. Now, where she always felt Jean’s lingering presence in the back of her mind, there was nothing.
It was through that link that she had been able to communicate with Jean before she died.
She stood, back straight, the moment everyone realized that Jean was outside, fixing the jet; saving them. The white haired mutant focused on Jean’s presence in the back of her head and held on to that feeling, and begged Jean to come in side.
Ororo could do it. She could lift the jet with her winds, adjust the atmospheric pressure and slow the water down while she dropped the temperature in order to freeze it. Jean would be able to fix the jet from the inside, Ororo would be able to join them later.
Jean was injured, and she had already exhausted herself trying to reach Cyclops. Storm could do this.
“This is the only way.”
Reaching behind her, Ororo gripped the back of the pilots chair, short nails digging into the leather. Her eyes stung with unshed tears and her mutation. The elements struggled to express the pain she refused to show. Scott kneeled in front of Xavier, and Ororo stood rooted to her stop.
’Take care of him for me.’ Jean’s gentle voice floated in her head, and an unnatural calm took over her. Ororo nearly let out a broken sob.
’Let me do it, Jean. Let me get the jet of the ground. Scott will survive if I don’t make it. He won’t survive your loss.’
’I wish I could explain, my sister, but I need to do this. It’s the next step.’
Ororo gathered every feeling she could muster and laid it all out for Jean to feel. All of the love she had for her sister.
’I love you too, Ororo.’
Storm felt the words, rather than hearing them. Her heart was surround by a warmth she would always remember, and always associate with Jean. The feeling didn’t last long, because suddenly she was drowning under the pain. Her hand gripped tighter around the pilots seat as she realized she was experiencing Scott’s pain, and just like that, everything she felt was gone.
And so was Jean.
The only sound was Scott’s refusal to accept it, and Logan’s ragged breath. She caught his eyes over Scott’s shoulder before moving to sink down in the chair she’s been holding on to, and brought then all home.
Aside from that night with Scott, Ororo hasn’t allowed herself to mourn, hasn’t even slept. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw were bright green eyes and fiery red hair, and it hurt.
And Ororo was mad as hell. Jean had known everything her death would have been effect, that everyone was falling apart without her, yet she did it anyway. Ororo didn’t understand, didn’t know what Jean had meant about the ‘next step’. All she knew was that she was angry.
Just like they were doing with Scott, the students gave her space. The only person that spoke to her besides the Professor, was Logan. The space that they were providing her with was driving her mad. For the past night, she had spent hours in the danger room, fighting a holographic Jean Grey.
How could Jean do this?
How could she be so selfish?!
In the early hours of the morning, she left the danger room, still not feeling any better. Jean had asked her to look after Scott, and that included making sure he eat. Ororo may have been mad at Jean, but she cared for Scott.
She has made him breakfast before the sun was even up, but if Scott was in the same pain she was in, he wasn’t sleeping. Ororo brought him his favored bowl of cereal, and coming out of her thoughts, sneaked into his room. Ororo set his breakfast down on his night stand. She knew that if she was anyone else, he would have snapped at her to stop hovering. Ororo stepped over to the recliner he was sitting in, had been sitting in since she brought him dinner from the previous night, and kissed his cheek before slipping out of the room.
The night she had slept with him, Ororo had confessed how angry she was at Jean, and she had claimed to hate the redhead. Both of them new that neither one could hate Jean, but her confession to be angry at her was accepted.
She headed back to her own room, and doubting anyone would bother her, didn’t think of locking the door. Ororo stepped into the adjoining bathroom and started the water to her shower. She peeled off her training uniform before stepping into the steaming hot water, and turning off her mind of as the water turned her skin pink, she went through the motions.
Minutes later, Ororo turned the water off, reached for a towel to wrap around herself, before stepping out of the shower. She moved in front of her vanity with two steps and reached out to wipe to mirror above the sneak from condensation. With blue eyes Ororo took in her reflection.
Goddess, she suddenly found her hair annoying. It was awful, and too long and certainly a pain to take care off. With finger tips, she pressed on the edge of the mirror before opening it and retrieving the scissors she kept there.
‘Ororo, No! I know you’re angry with me, but don’t!’
Ororo ignored the whispered echo of Jean’s voice. It was only her mind playing tricks on her after all. She grabbed a handful of hair, and began cutting. Long strands of white hair fell down her back and collected at her feet, and shorter and shorter she went, until her hair curled just below her ears.
She set the scissors down, with a heavy sign and decided she was perfectly satisfied with the length, and reached for the blow drying to dry her hair. Once her hair was dry, and she dressed and headed down towards the kitchen for her own breakfast.
Logan already occupied the room, and Ororo ignored him as easily had he’d ignored her in Jean’s presence. She grabbed herself an orange and set across from him on the kitchen island. Quietly, and probably a bit to harshly, Ororo dug her nails into the fruit, methodically removing the peel.
Logan was an early riser, much like she herself was when she actually managed to get some sleep. He got up early to read the paper before the kitchen filled up with the remaining students. Most of the children had gone home after Stryker’s attack, but still, Logan seemed to enjoy the quiet that dawn brought with it.
She suddenly felt his eyes on her, and Ororo glanced up from the work she was doing, destroying the peel. She had always been able to feel his gaze, and for the last four days, she’s felt those dark eyes on her more then usual.
“Do ya feel better?” He asked the moment blue eyes settled on his brown ones.
She was silent, breathing in deeply though her nose. Ororo closed her eyes, assessing her feelings. By the tone in his voice, Ororo somehow knew that if wasn’t a snide comment about her hair. She focused on her emotions, and opened her eyes, finding Logan still staring at her a long moment later. “Yes, I do.”
He grunted, and Ororo took that to mean that it was an answer he was hoping for. He lifted the newspaper back up and started reading again.
“Liked it better long.”
She heard Logan rumble from behind his paper, and Ororo grinned down at her orange, feeling, to her relief, much, much better.
