Chapter Five: Tempest
Show me what it’s like
To be the last one standin’
And teach me wrong from right
And I’ll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I’ll leave this life behind me
Say it if it’s worth savin’ me,
Nickelback
Outside of Henry, Alaska
Denali National park
Logan moved alongside his old friend, thinking about their first meeting. It was damn near 23 years ago he sat across from Reginald Tasser, discussing the abduction of a mutant known as Storm. He’d lied through his teeth, Logan recalled, pretending to be a well-connected hunter named Hope. When the truth shook loose, though, Tasser accepted it with no more than a shake of his head.
Since then, the two became fast friends. When Logan and Ororo moved to Henry permanently, it was Tasser who helped Logan find work. Though his sweet, serious wife left him after a battle with cancer, Tasser never considered giving up his title as local sheriff. It was part of him, as much as lethal adamantium was to Logan.
Together, they reached the odd memorial ‘Ro had placed near the gravesite she’d escaped from that snowy winter evening a million years ago. With Alaska’s spring in full swing, their heavy bootfalls made soft noises on the loamy carpet beneath their feet. Using the mutation that had once nearly got him killed, Logan crouched at the abandoned campsite.
There it was, that acidic scent. It reminded the feral mutant of spoiled lemons mixed with a pine cleaner that ‘Ro used to clean their floors. He sneezed at the heavy, lingering smell. The owner of that disgusting odor had been here.
Recently.
From his crouch, Logan turned back toward the house. It wasn’t wholly visible from this vantage point. If he brought along binoculars, though, it was easy enough to peer into the wide windows left open for the balmy spring air.
Had Vertigo been watching them?
“Logan.”
At Tasser’s call, the Wolverine stood. That beast that for so long slumbered inside of him was in full voice, howling with the need for vengeance. Logan almost let it take him over, throwing the man aside in favor of the creature that once gave him that odd codename. He couldn’t do that, though. He had his wife, his children, his extended family to think of. Tearing off into the wilds like some half-human creature would leave his family undefended. That, more than any pep-talk, sent the beat inside of him back to its worried pacing.
As he moved toward his friend, Logan noticed the old Sheriff had something in his hand. Logan released a low growl from the center of his chest, realizing that it was a battered photograph of his wife.
Worse. It was a picture that he knew for a fact should have been in an antique frame on his mantel.
“The bitch has been in my house.”
The startled pause didn’t go unnoticed, but Logan did not raise his head as Tasser spoke again.
“But you didn’t catch her scent.”
He hadn’t. Had all his years in the Alaskan wilderness made him soft? Of course it had. Logan didn’t fight anymore, had no reason to jump into the fray as he and Storm made their life together here. Thinking back, Logan wondered if it was the familiar pine cleanser that was throwing him off.
“No.” Logan admitted grudgingly when he realized Tasser was waiting for him to speak. “It’s an easy thing to do.”
“If someone knows what you can do,” Tasser chimed in. “It wouldn’t take much to make a smell seem commonplace.”
Before Logan could speak again, he heard something coming from the north. Turning, the feral mutant furrowed his brow, honing his hearing on that sound. It was familiar, something that clutched the fire in his gut. Clouds rolled overhead, breaking the bright sunshine sharply in half.
“Ororo?” Tasser asked, the click of his holster coming open to give him unfettered access to his firearm sounded impossibly loud.
“No.” Logan immediately shook his head. The storm swirling above him did not have his wife’s signature scent. The burning fragrance of ozone was too strong, too…
“Jean.”
His heart lodged in the general direction of his feet as Logan realized the heavy fog and sudden thunder was the work of his tempestuous daughter. For a moment, he wondered if the girl was close enough that him running through the woods would be faster than Tasser’s cruiser.
The choice was taken, though, when he heard the unmistakable sound of his child’s scream.
“MOTHER!”
Snikt.
Three claws of unbreakable metal erupted from Logan’s hands. He could hear the howling tempest rolling closer, a clash thunder reverberating through the mountains. Logan was off at a run, not caring if the sheriff followed or stayed behind. Something was scaring his daughter, and if something scared Jeannie-Bean, it needed to die.
Roaring with preternatural rage, Logan took his weary body further into the woods. His jacket was peeled from his frame as sweat slicked down his back. He needed more movement, even as the Wolverine rushed to reclaim its hold on Logan Munroe’s mind.
A silver bullet shot across the sky above him.
Storm.
Having heard their child’s cry, which still echoed on the howling winds, Logan’s wife had flown into the fight. With her flying above, Logan increased his pace. Nothing, nothing was going to harm his children.
The scent of smoke reached him at what he gauged to be a full quarter mile from the road. Burning crude oil, the scent scalded radiator fluid, blood.
With a scream worthy of his alter ego, Logan burst through the tree line with his claws at full extension.
“DAD!”
Hearing his son’s cry, Logan turned. The Firebird that was his children’s pride and joy lay on its side, a haphazard pile of smoking metal. James stood at what remained of the passenger door, trying in vain to pull his unconscious twin from the wreckage.
“James! Hank!”
He took off at a dead run once more, halted by the howling gale provided by what he knew to be his wife and daughter. Though he couldn’t see his daughter, he knew she was about. The storm was not of her mother’s making, but a fierce creation of a mutant untried.
Once he got through the ring of screeching wind, Logan found silence.
Jean had created a tornado with her brothers at the eye. Nothing and no one could get to them. He panicked for only a moment, until Ororo’s scent brought him a swift crosswind, hollowing out part of their daughter’s storm to allow him in.
“He’s trapped!” James screamed, his voice broken by a cough. “Dad, help!”
It took only a few strides for Logan to reach the decimated remains of his sons’ car. With a flash of adamantium, Logan sliced through the twisted metal, releasing his bleeding son into his twin’s arms. Henry looked to be suffering from a head wound, but that was the least of their problems.
“Get him to the woods.” Logan commanded a terrified and bloodied James, holding his son by the shirt. “Don’t argue with me. Drag him if you have to.”
“Dad.” James’ voice was weak, frightened. It reminded him of his boys at a much younger age, when he had to frighten monsters from closets.
“Take him, Jim. I’ve got to…”
“There was a woman.” James replied as he caught Henry under the arm and hefted him to his feet. “She stood in the middle of the road. A mutant. She used some kind of shockwave to toss the Firebird.”
Arclight.
“Go to the woods.” Logan commanded once more. “Sheriff’s in there. Get to the house and stay there.”
James caught his father’s gaze. In one look, Logan saw the sadness there, the helplessness. In this mutant fight, James was powerless. He had nothing, nothing to help his father battle a new evil. All he could do was care for his brother while parents and sister took out the monsters in the Alaskan woods.
Without another word, James half-carried Henry into the woods.
Adamantium flashed once more, releasing the beast inside of him. Logan took a good sniff, finding that Jean had managed to get out of the car. She was held in the sky by her winds, likely lingering with her mother. Logan searched the ground, even as a concussion of invisible force threw him bodily. Flying backward, Logan also felt the startling loss of his equilibrium.
As he slammed into a nearby tree, disoriented, Logan saw Arclight and Vertigo coming toward him. How they had managed to finally breach Jean’s storm was a mystery, but they struggled into the eye.
“Well, well, the Wolverine.” Vertigo called into the stillness. “I see you’ve not changed much in two decades.”
“Vertigo.” Logan grunted as he struggled to stand. He wasn’t a young man anymore and healing took more out of him now. “You picked the wrong kids, darlin’.”
The mutant woman was aged, Logan noted. Lines were visible around her eyes, her mouth in a tight, humorless smile. He hadn’t seen her since she’d taken him prisoner so very long ago, but some things a man never forgot.
Her eyes, however, were different. Stark madness looked back at him with the fervor of a zealot. Logan instinctively tested the air again, using his mutation to locate his wife and daughter. A soft footfall behind him, akin to snow landing on pavement, told him that the former had landed somewhere nearby. Logan smirked to himself.
His wife was amazing when she got irritated.
“So, climbed out from under the rock, did you?”
Vertigo smiled that same empty smile as Arclight stepped forward.
“Wolverine, I’ve waited a long time for this.” She said quietly as the storm around them faded. “I just can’t wait to get you all alone.”
Shuddering at the sudden, unbidden memory of being strapped to a medical bed and forced to cooperate with Sinister’s insanity, Logan felt his hands begin to shake once more. He remembered the fear, the violation, the all-consuming faith he had that Ororo would come get him.
She’s comin’ for me, bub, and hell’s comin’ with her.
The women before him didn’t bother to look afraid. Logan glanced up at the sky, seeing his daughter hover a moment before she landed beside him. Jean didn’t look like herself, not in this moment. Even as Logan moved his body to protect her from the insanity standing on the road, he noted that she was different.
All that white hair was damp with the rain, her clothing torn, but it was the determination and peace etched into her face that seemed so much like her mother. Those usually cerulean eyes glowed white with her power, electricity seeming to run through her body.
Ororo came up to Logan’s left, leaving him flanked by two powerful women. It humbled him, caused the beast inside of him to bow down before the Alpha. They were in charge. Storm and Jean.
“Who is this?” Arclight said in a teasing tone. “Storm Junior?”
It was Jean that spoke, ignoring her father’s warning growl and the rolling thunder of her mother. Without missing a beat, his daughter smirked, though her voice was strong.
“Tempest.”
Pride welled up in Logan’s chest at the simple statement. Jean had accepted her role as guardian. He hadn’t wanted his children to take codenames. Hell, he mostly wanted them to pretend being a mutant was nothing, to lose themselves in the Alaskan wild. That choice, however, was now taken from them.
“How droll.” Vertigo said with another humorless smirk. “Storm. Wolverine. Tempest. A rather unstable little family, aren’t you?”
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t tear you apart, Vert. Just one.”
“Oh, you won’t hurt me. Not at all. In fact, I have a surprise for you, Wolverine. A very lovely surprise.”
His wife’s scent burned ozone a beat before Arclight’s shockwave hit them. Logan threw himself with as much momentum as his 300 pound body could muster, taking his youngest child in his arms as the trio of mutants was slammed back into the woods.
Logan grunted, having Jean cradled to his belly. A tree branch had lodged in his side, and Ororo’s worried eyes found his when she landed gracefully beside them. She took their child into her arms, then kneeled beside Logan.
“Daddy!”
Jean’s soft cry tore at his heart. Logan nodded to her, instructing his daughter to look away as he and ‘Ro removed the tree branch from his kidney. Once the source of his injury was removed, Logan sighed with relief, his healing ability kicking in.
“They’re gone.” ‘Ro said with a hard edge to her voice. “Where are the boys?”
“I sent them back into the woods.”
At once, Jean took to the air, obviously worried about her brothers. Storm smiled faintly at their daughter’s flying form, before she leaned in to help Logan stand. They stared at one another for a long, tense moment. So long ago, they retired from this fight, preferring a life in the wilderness, their family raised away from the horrors their parents once faced.
Now, danger had come to them, with purpose. Logan shook his head, cupping his wife’s cheek with one hand.
“You know what we have to do.” Storm said sadly.
“Yeah.” Logan agreed. “And it’s for the best.”
Ororo seemed to take him at his word, kissing his lips quickly. “We’ll make arrangements. For now, lets make sure Hank is alright.”
***
Alison Drake sat in the comfortable office chair in the X-Men’s War Room, watching the assembled mutants carefully. Nearly full term with her second pregnancy in six years, Dazzler was grounded from missions. That did not mean, however, that she was kept out of the loop.
She would stay behind, should the team need to head back to Alaska, but from the War Room she and Charles would monitor their friends. Ali knew her husband would volunteer for the mission, as Iceman had the dream in his blood. He fought not only for Xavier, but because his family was involved now.
Smiling softly at her husband as her unborn son kicked her hard, Ali tuned into the conversation.
“I went back over the files from the first encounters with Sinister twenty years ago.” Psylocke was saying in her clipped British accent. Her dainty fingertips topped by violet polish manipulated the holo-screen easily. “We had already mapped out every disappearance thanks to Captain Obsession back in the day. Here are the known kidnappings and the locations later linked to Sinister’s group.”
Ali glanced at the map, her gut tight as she noted the one lone dot in Nome. That was where she’d come face to face with Storm for the first time, baiting the soldiers that had come for her. If not for Storm, Ali did not think she would have met the X-Men. She wouldn’t have married Bobby.
She might be unable to even have Connor or be pregnant now.
As though sensing her thoughts, her husband reached under the table to grasp her hand. She sighed with contentment, shifting so his hand laid over her t-shirt covered belly. The baby inside wriggled and kicked, bringing a bright smile to Bobby’s handsome face.
“What is most concerning is that Hank’s files were stolen, but something was altered as well. Hank did not notice it until last night.” Betsy zoomed in on Alaska, the swift motion giving Ali a bit of motion sickness. “Whitehorse was the location we all assumed Storm had been taken to, along with the others found in the mass grave. However, it was abandoned when we went to look into it.”
“Its not abandoned anymore,” Kitty broke in. “Is it?”
Betsy Worthington shook her head slowly. “About four months ago, the facility was bought by a private pharmaceutical company based in Nova Scotia. None of their public trading reports actually give any indication as to what they do there.”
“All that is listed,” chimed in Angel with that soothing baritone. “Is research.”
“Is there anything else linking Sinister’s agents to Whitehorse?” Xavier asked quietly.
“Yes,” Angel continued as his wife manipulated the holo-screen again.
On the screen, the mutant known only as Vertigo flashed onscreen. Her silver and chartreuse hair was startling against that pale skin, combined with the neon green of her eyes. Ali had never seen the mutant up close and personal, and she sort of hoped she never did.
“Vertigo is now using the alias Dr. Mary Ann Vaughn.” Betsy continued. “She claims to have degrees in biology and genetics.”
“That makes sense,” Bobby cut in quickly. “Especially if she’s trying to clone mutants the way Sinister was.”
“To do that, we know of one thing she will absolutely need.”
“Wolverine.”
At Charles’ soft interjection, the room went deathly quiet. Everyone knew, of course, what Sinister and his lackeys had done to Logan. They violated him, took from him something that was not theirs to take. If Sinister had succeeded in keeping Logan’s semen and using it to clone mutants, the world would be a very ugly place to live right now.
“Wolverine and Storm have been warned, but I fear the warning came too late.” Charles continued. Ali perked up, knowing that her mentor had spoken with the Alaskan couple some time ago. “They were attacked by Vertigo and her companion Arclight outside of their home.”
“Are they ok?” Kitty asked in a small voice.
“Yes,” Charles soothed immediately. “They were not, however, after Logan.”
Ali’s eyebrows shot to her hairline.
“The kids.” Bobby responded breathlessly, having caught on the same second Ali did. “Sinister wanted Storm and Wolverine’s genetic material so he could clone them. They kids are basically walking, talking mutated Sinister dreams.”
“Precisely.” Charles interjected. “Young Henry was injured, but Tempest and Storm were able to save them from further damage.”
The dark brows of Piotr Rasputin went up with interest. “Tempest?”
“It would seem that Jean has taken a code name for herself.” said the Professor with a hint of good humor. “I find it very fitting.”
“No kidding,” Iceman muttered loudly enough for the others to hear. “She’s got a temper on her, for sure.”
Ali kicked her husband under the table, smirking at his sharp yelp and baleful look.
“In any event,” Charles cut in smoothly. “The twins and Jean will be removed from Alaska and brought here. Colossus, Iceman, if you would be so kind?”
Piotr immediately stood, his hand on the tiny shoulder of his wife. “We will leave immediately to fetch them.”
“What about the Gates’ boys?” Ali asked quickly. “Shouldn’t we bring them as well? Its common knowledge that they are good friends with the Munroes. I wouldn’t want Green Hair to snatch one as bait.”
“I quite agree.” The wheelchair-bound man replied thoughtfully. “I will phone Ororo and have her ready them as well. For now, Kitty, Ali? Would you prepare rooms for our guests?”
The mutant women nodded, with Ali moving to haul her heavily pregnant body from the chair she had just gotten comfortable in. Crap. She needed to pee. Again.
All motion stopped, however, when Iceman cleared his throat.
“What about Storm and Wolverine?”
Bobby’s question was met by a nearly feral grin from their mentor.
“I dearly hope Vertigo remembers what it means to tangle with those two. For her sake.”
***
Fairbanks, Alaska
Hank Munroe suffered from a mild head injury, several cuts, and a few burns. All in all, though, he was deemed alive. His brother and sister never left his side, even as the Sheriff drove them to the hospital with lights and sirens blaring. Tasser had earned more of the Munroe family’s love, which was boundless to begin with.
When Ororo and Logan entered the hospital, they were directed to the room where their son was being treated.
Storm was not surprised to find Kenny and Mary Gates had beaten them to it.
“Mary!” Storm rushed forward, hugging her friend tightly while Kenny clasped familiar hands with Logan. The two women broke apart quickly.
For three hours, Logan and Ororo searched the woods for any signs that would indicate where Vertigo and Arclight were holed up. Finding nothing, they returned to their cottage. Logan insisted on going through it with a fine tooth comb, especially since Tasser called to assure them that Hank was going to be alright.
Storm wanted to be with her children, but she wanted to make sure their home was out of danger first.
“He’s ok. He just woke up a little while ago, asking for his Xbox.” Mary informed Ororo with tears in her eyes that did not dampen her smile at all. “Jeannie and Jimmy haven’t left the room, even with the Gates brood in there.”
When she peered into the window, Ororo smiled. Hank was on the bed, center of attention for the seven teenagers shoved into the room. Jean had her brother by the hand, while Jimmy sat like a sentinel on the edge of his bed. No matter their teenage strife, the Munroe kids were inseparable.
“We got the call from Xavier a little while ago,” Kenny told the mutants quickly. “He’s sending Pete and Bob to come get the kids.”
“All of them.” Logan insisted with a glance at Mary.
The Inuit woman nodded once. “Everyone is packed. Did you bring the kids’ things? I told Bobby they could land at the helipad. The hospital is waiting for them.”
What on earth had she done in her life to have these friends? Mary and Kenny had accepted her when she ran away from the death and disorder that was her life after the death of her family. They brought her to life in the wilds of Alaska, then searched for her endlessly alongside Logan. Since that time, the four of them were thick as thieves. Everything was shared. Children, holidays, a life away from the horrors of war.
There was no one else she trusted so much, with the exception of Charles and the X-Men.
“I’m going to see Hank.” Ororo said as she pulled away from Mary. “The jet should be here within the hour.”
“We haven’t told them why,” Kenny insisted. “I thought we’d leave that for you.”
Ororo swallowed hard. “Not everything. They’re too young for that.”
Mary nodded. “Just tell them they have to transfer schools for a while. They love New York anyway.”
With a sigh, Ororo squeezed her husband’s hand before stepping into the hospital room to speak with the children.
***
He was training, she thought with a smile. She watched him for several minutes, smiling when she noted how well he was progressing. Unlike the others, he favored the wild, the uninhibited side of nature that Vertigo admired.
Daken stood tall, broad of shoulder though lean of hip. Thick, ropey muscle covered his chest and arms, with tanned flesh pulled taut over top. His hair was long, grazing his shoulders, the exact color of a raven’s wing. It was the eyes, however, that gave most pause. They were small, piercing and darker than midnight.
As he finished with his sparring, Vertigo entered the room quietly.
“Well done, my son.” The mutant said with a smile.
Daken turned to her, his smile positively childlike. Vertigo worked long, hard years for that smile, for the utter devotion he gifted her with now. Her son had great need of her and little for anyone or anything else. In raising him alone in the Savage Land, she’d created her greatest weapon, the dream of her beloved Nathaniel.
“Mother.” The boy said as he approached her with predatory grace so reminiscent of his father.
“I found him.” Vertigo told her child as he embraced her warmly. “And now, you have a mission, child.”
Daken smirked darkly as he pulled away from her.
“Bring you the Wolverine.” Daken intoned as he was taught. “Bring you the Wolverine so that we may continue our work.”
“Good boy,” Vertigo purred. “That’s a good boy.
He smiled that boyish smile again, wrapping his mother in his arms. Over his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around her son, Vertigo smiled.
Wolverine would have no choice and Sinister’s work would continue.
