Chapter Ten: Never Gonna Be Alone

Time is going by so much faster than I

And I’m starting to regret not spendin’ all of it with you

Now I’m wondering why I’ve kept this bottled inside

I’m starin’ to regret not sharin’ all of this with you

So, if I haven’t yet I gotta let you know

You’re never gonna be alone

-Nickelback

As she opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the familiarity of her surroundings. The oak bookshelves stretching from ceiling to floor, old leather furniture that smelled of good polish. Somehow, though she knew he would never smoke, there was always the faint odor of a freshly lit cigar in the room.

It was his study, the place she always felt the most welcome.

Jean stepped into the room cautiously, still unsure how to handle being inside of his personal space without him. Not the room, of course, in reality the study was open for anyone at any time for almost any reason.

Scott liked to think in one of the posh antique chairs, it helped him arrange his thoughts when something was troubling him.

Ororo preferred the high window seat, curled up to stare into the sky with that wistful look on her dark face.

For Jean, her favorite place was the little sofa that sat along one bookshelf, where all the leather-spined beauties were within arm’s reach. This study was so much more than classroom and haven, it was where four mutants became a family.

No wonder he had retreated here.

It took what felt like days to traverse the expansive mind of her mentor. She’d never done anything like this, not without his thoughtful guidance. Charles always had a hand on her shoulder, ready to pull her out of the fire before she got too badly burnt. This time, however, it was he himself that so desperately needed help.

Jean could not turn her back on him now.

“Charles?”

She said his name softly, hating how the Astral Plane made the tone of her voice seem to have an echo attached. This wasn’t reality, no matter how much it was dressed to resemble it. Jean had to be careful to remember that she and Charles were trapped in his mind. Getting too comfortable in the faux-reality could cause them to lose themselves completely. Jean kept rubbing the base of her left ring finger, where her engagement ring should have rested.

Scott suggested she remove it, a reminder that this was not reality. He sat in the chair beside her, in the world outside of Charles Xavier’s brilliant mind, holding the ring she loved in his hands for safekeeping.

Focusing on the image of her mentor, Jean found him at his favorite spot in the study. His wheelchair was pushed to the window that overlooked the grounds of the Institute, those familiar hands clasped just under his chin as he contemplated the mysteries of life.

Or, perhaps, he was merely thinking about how Tom Brady’s game would improve this year…either was a good guess.

“Charles.”

She reached out, gently touching his shoulder. Charles seemed to startle, turning to look at the woman that became his surrogate daughter over the years. Those clear blue eyes were clouded, the corneas a murky sort of color that reminded her of the device that corrupted Cerebro.

Jean crouched in front of her mentor, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her thumbs pressed ever so gently into his temples, her own eyes closing as she fought her way into the deepest recesses of his powerful mind.

The telekinetic managed to clear the murky substance from Charles’ eyes, her smile already spreading over her mouth as she managed to open her own eyes.

“Hello.”

Charles’ answering grin was worth every moment of pain she spent trying to break the locks on his psyche.

“Hello, Charles.” Jean whispered her response with tears in her voice.

“Come to take me home?” Charles asked, his Astral voice a deep echo of how he spoke in life.

“Yes.” Jean grinned, releasing a watery chuckle. “You’re coming home with me, Charles.”

~**~

When he woke up, Jean was smiling down at him. She moved a bandage from his torso…when was the last time he needed bandages? It tickled a little until he made her stop.

She was looking at him with fear and relief in those deep green eyes. Logan pondered for a moment, wondering why she seemed so upset…

It came flooding back in a hurry. Marie. Magneto. White-hot light. Begging the girl to wake up, trying to use her power to save her.

The insistent wail of a medical monitor brought Logan fully into the real world. Jean was trying to soothe him, using clucks of her tongue and a soft, gentle tone. Logan looked around himself, trying to find Marie. Was she ok?

“Did it work?” Logan demanded, his dry throat aching. “The kid? Is she ok? Where is she?”

“Logan, calm down.” Jean tried placating him again. “You’ve been out for almost a week.”

“A week?” Logan’s voice rose. “Where is she?”

“She’s fine.” Jean said at last. “She’s more worried about you. Well, she took on some of your finer qualities for a few days, but we survived. That was a very brave thing you did, Logan.”

At this, Logan laughed. It worked. Thank God. Little Marie had been so limp in his arms, so tiny. He wanted nothing more than to save her, to prove to himself he was more than just a cage fighter looking for a prize. Wasn’t he worth more?

“Good.” Logan replied, relaxing against the medical bed once more. He glanced about, not very surprised to find that Ororo wasn’t nearby. If there was one thing he liked about that woman, it was her dedication to the right thing.

They still had kids to mind, a school to run.

“I think she’s a little taken with you.” Jean went on, making Logan flush a little.

“Yeah.” Logan agreed softly. He took Jean’s hand, grateful for the contact after so close a march with death. When he thought about it, though, Logan knew he was in too deep with the weather witch to bother trying to dig himself out.

“I’ve gotta tell her my heart belongs to someone else.”

“Logan,” Jean said quietly. She took a seat on the edge of his bed, her green eyes boring into his. What did she see there, Logan wondered. Was it a feral beast, a broken man, or something else entirely?

“She’s crazy about you.” Jean replied in her soft voice. “I don’t get to see her crazy very often. She lov-“

Logan couldn’t hear that, not from Jean. If Storm felt something from him, it would be from her lips Logan would hear it. He cut Jean off, thinking of their fearless leader.

“How’s the professor?”

Jean seemed to catch on that Logan would say no more on the subject. Her eyes were a little sad, but she smiled slightly anyway. Strong woman, Jean Grey. No wonder Scooter liked her.

“He’s good.” Jean said quietly.

“Good.” Logan kissed her hand before he turned away, suddenly wanting to see Ororo so bad, it hurt.

A beat later, though, the med-lab door opened and Logan had his hands full with a sobbing teenage girl.

~**~

Getting back into the routine wasn’t as easy as she would have liked, especially when Logan awoke.

It was almost a week since the battle on Liberty Island, and Ororo had classes to teach, disputes to mediate, and children to mind. It was a never-ending job, one that she vastly preferred to flushing out errant mutants.

When Jean told her that Logan was awake, however, it took everything in her body to continue teaching. She’d only left his side to teach, to look after the little ones. When she wasn’t there, it was Jean or Marie on watch, keeping an eye on the man that somehow wormed his gruff ways into their hearts.

But it was Ororo who ushered Marie from their class when she got the message, sending the teen toward the lower levels with a note to excuse her should any of the other teachers stop her in the hall.

Marie needed to see the man that saved her life, the one person who had come through for her when so many others had failed. Logan had an admirer in young Marie, one that would never let him down.

Deciding she would check on him now that her duties were clear, Storm almost ran for her bedroom to change. Peter was in charge of the little ones this evening; he and Bobby had planned some sort of film marathon for the weekend kickoff. Knowing that would keep them all busy, Ororo quietly instructed Kitty and Jubilee to make a few snacks for the group before insisting that they all behave themselves. Once that was taken care of, Storm headed for her bedroom.

Logan had almost died, and there was no stretching that truth. Jean lost his heartbeat twice on the way back to the mansion. Scott had been forced to shock his metallic body twice, in hopes of restarting his heart. Rogue had cried the entire way while Storm was forced to pilot the Blackbird, listening as Marie begged Logan to wake up.

She’d always done the responsible thing, the right thing. Ororo had a wild side that she kept buttoned up most of the time. While Jean might have forgone any responsibilities to wait at Scott’s bedside had he been injured, that wasn’t Storm’s style. The weight of keeping everything running smoothly sat on her shoulders, even if the others never realized it.

All she wanted was to be with Logan when he woke. How had she resisted this long?

As she keyed into her room, using a hip to pop the door open, Ororo was paying no attention to anything around her. She wanted to change into something comfortable and go to him. She’d kissed him before he flew over the torch, that kiss filled with promises she knew she wanted to keep.

Ororo had already pulled her shirt over her head when she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Don’t let me stop you, darlin’.”

Logan’s easy drawl made Ororo jump. She spun on her heels, finding the handsome mutant moving from her bed toward her. Ororo smiled, giddy as a schoolgirl, when she understood he’d been waiting for her.

He looked as though nothing had happened. His flesh was knitted together, obvious from the absence of a shirt over his chest. His hair was a disheveled tease of wolfish peaks, the sweats he’d probably stolen from the lower levels riding low on his hips.

And that smile…Logan looked at her as though she were the sun coming up.

Without another word, Logan reached for her, his hands insistent. Ororo went all too willingly into her lover’s arms, allowing his mouth to capture hers. She had the resistance of a rag doll, giving herself over wholly to a man who frequently made her knees weak.

How was this possible after less than a month?

Logan’s mouth was hot against hers, his hands on her hips possessive. Ororo felt her entire body catch light under the skin, the primal nature of his desire bringing to life that wild side of herself she frequently tucked into a suit.

There was no time for words as Logan backed her toward the bureau, lifting her as though she weighed nothing, as though he hadn’t been on death’s doorstep only days ago. She whimpered into his mouth when he caught her bottom lip with his teeth.

“Logan…” She whispered his name, a plea, a demand.

“You don’t like this…”Logan spoke against her throat, where his mouth mapped a wet trail from her earlobe to shoulder. “This suit thing, right?”

Her own brain was muzzy with the heat flushing through her. Ororo could only shake her head as she nibbled at the scruff of Logan’s beard. The temperature in the room jumped up several notches, a testament to the edge of control Ororo currently teetered over.

“Shred it.” Ororo whispered, her hand teasing at the waist of his sweats. “Right now, Logan.”

Snikt!

In two deft flashes of lethal adamantium, Ororo found herself completely bare before her lover. The shiver of cool metal against heated flesh served to only increase her ardor. He settled her on the dresser behind them, groaning when her hands shoved down the material of his boxers and sweats so he was naked for her.

“Now.” Logan panted, stepping between her parted thighs. “Right now, ‘Ro.”

“Now,” Ororo nodded, her hands gripping his hips to guide him closer.

With one sharp snap of his hips, Logan buried himself inside of her.

Ororo threw her head back as they joined, her body clenching around Logan as he drove into her. The pace he set was immediately rough, pounding her with such force into the bureau that it rocked precariously against the wall.

Logan buried his face in the juncture between her shoulder and throat, holding her hips so he could drive into her, grunting endearments with every hard thrust of his hips. They were wild for one another, with flashes of what might have been behind their eyes.

So close, so very close to losing one another forever.

“Logan.” She gasped his name, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, one burying into his sweat-slicked hair. “Logan, harder.”

Logan lifted his head from her shoulder, pressing his forehead against hers so their eyes could meet in the dim light of her bedroom. Sweat dripped from his skin, a response to his passion, to the heat of Storm’s mutation. In this one moment, Ororo knew nothing would ever be the same.

“I love you.”

He said the words with no explanation, no inhibition, and no expectation. Ororo clung to him more fiercely as he took her mouth with his, that honeyed phrase still clinging to his lips.

“I love you.” Ororo whispered in return, knowing the truth of it the second he said it. “Logan, I love you.”

As though her response to his declaration fueled his passions further, Logan growled as he thrust more forcefully into her body. Ororo’s unprepared system was already trembling, squeezing him to bring him with her over the edge. It took two more thrusts of Logan’s hips to tumble her toward bliss, his name leaving her mouth on a low, keening wail.

Logan followed with one grunt of her name, his body jerking hard as he spilled into her. They clung to one another in the darkness, huddled on her dresser as the lovers came down from the orgasmic high.

He nuzzled her nose with his, a surprisingly tender gesture as Ororo tried to catch her breath.

“Yeah,” Logan’s voice broke the silence as they held one another. “Remember who said it first.”

~**~

He’d said goodbye and that was a big deal for him. Logan adjusted the bag over his shoulder, glancing to the stairwell as he stepped away from Marie. The kid had come chasing after him, knowing he wasn’t just heading down the street for a six-pack and some milk.

You runnin’ again?

Not this time, Logan thought. There was something here, something inside this hallowed walls that Logan knew had nothing to do with the white-haired woman he couldn’t get enough of.

What Xavier had built, what he was doing, it was something Logan could believe in. He might still need answers about his past, about the people that had done such horrifying things to him, but now he had a base.

It wasn’t a home, not his home, not yet.

Ororo knew he was leaving today. Sessions with the revitalized Charles had done wonders for him. They had a lead now, an abandoned base in the Canadian wilderness. Flashes of memory that became nightmare had to be investigated.

She understood. God help him, that woman got it, got him. What the hell was he going to do with her?

How the hell could he walk away from her?

That thought followed him as he closed the door. He promised Rogue he’d be back for the dog tags that were the only tangible link to his past. He would be back.

For Marie, because Marie needed him. For Charles, in case he needed some muscle to fulfill his dream. For Scooter and Jeanie, since they had to have someone to keep them on their toes.

For the kids, someone had to protect the kids.

For Ororo, because he loved her.

As he reached the garage, Logan moved toward the Jeep that Charles intended to loan him. As he reached it, though, something caught his eye. Propped by the doorway leading to the kitchen was Scott’s motorcycle, freshly polished and gorgeous, just waiting for a rider. Logan noticed something taped to the seat and approached out of pure curiosity.

Across the top of a folded piece of paper was his name in a masculine scrawl. Logan shouldered his bag more comfortably, taking the note from the seat, opening it quickly. A set of keys tumbled into his hand, forcing Logan to read the short note for explanation.

Logan-

Just did a tune up. Full tank of gas. Good luck.

-Scott

Touched, though he would never admit it, Logan gently folded the note. He didn’t have much that was his, certainly never something so simple as a ‘good luck’. He and Scooter had their differences, but this was an olive branch he couldn’t ignore. Logan zipped the note into his bag, knowing that he would treasure it as much as he had the dog tags.

He stuffed his pack into the saddlebag, then swung his leg over the seat. The engine roared to life, echoing in the cavernous garage, singing in Logan’s veins. Yeah, he’d come back. Maybe this would be home.

Still, there was no sign of Ororo. Maybe she’d been telling the truth as she lay in his arms this morning. Maybe she just didn’t do well with goodbye.

His heart heavy, Logan balanced the bike and pulled up the kickstand with one booted heel. He wanted to go inside, to find her, to kiss her until she went boneless one more time. He needed her to remember him, to wait…would she wait?

No, it was better if this morning was their goodbye. Relaxed from love making, soft with sleep, bright with hope…that was how it was meant to be.

Logan steeled himself as he walked the bike toward the edge of the garage. He knew Marie was watching from the windows. Ororo probably stood in the atrium, refusing to watch him go. Damn it. He was leaving her. Why? Why was he leaving her?

A beat before he hit the clutch and gunned the engine, the kitchen door slammed. Logan moved to turn, startled to find that a gorgeous woman had just jumped onto the back of his bike.

By the time Logan found the wits to smile, she was belting on a helmet.

“What in the flamin’ hell are you doin’, woman?”

“Running away from home.” Ororo replied impishly, stuffing her tiny pack into the saddle bag. She got comfortable on the back of the bike, grabbed at his waist.

She looked nothing like the prim, proper schoolteacher he had come to know. Ororo had on faded, ripped jeans, a pair of biker boots he hadn’t guessed she would own and a leather bomber to protect her skin. The helmet was white, ringed with blue feathers. Custom made.

This wasn’t her first time. There was still so much he didn’t know about her. Logan was suddenly thrilled to learn more.

She wanted to run away with him.

“You sure?” Logan asked as his heart pounded in his chest.

“You bet.” Ororo grinned, flicking down the visor of her helmet. “Let’s go, tough guy.”

Turning back toward the handlebars, Logan chuckled. She’d never cease to amaze him. He hit the clutch, revved the engine.

“You got it, darlin’.”

He released the brake, shooting the bike up into a wheelie. Storm squealed with unabashed delight, her grip on his waist tightening before he dropped them back on both wheels. Scooter’s bike shot out of the garage like a bat out of hell, taking the winding turns toward the highway so fast Logan’s knees almost scraped asphalt.

She turned toward the mansion a beat before it was out of sight, rising up to stand as she lifted a hand. She was saying goodbye.

Logan hit the gas again when they reached the highway. Wherever he was going, whatever he would find, he wouldn’t be alone again.