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Chapter 2

In the wee hours of the morning, Ororo awoke with the extreme need to use the bathroom. She attempted to heave her naked frame off the bed by swinging her legs to the floor.

Her movement cause Logan to instinctively sit up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I need to use the bathroom.”

He smelled the apprehension rolling off of her in waves. “How long ya been havin’ contractions, ‘Ro?”

She ignored his question. As she slowly stood, Logan’s enhanced hearing enabled him to hear the distinctive sound of her water breaking a few seconds before she felt it. He scrambled off the bed at the same time she went very still. She reached out her hand to him as she bent over double, liquid oozing down her legs. “My water broke.”

Logan hissed curses as he led her to the nearest chair and dropped to his knees beside her. “Is this it? What ta do, baby? Ya want me ta call Hank?”

Ororo nodded just as a sharp pain speared through her. Logan saw her eyes white over and felt her breath stop. He heard the winds outside picking up in intensity. He clutched her hand until the contraction abated.

Strangely, her concern was for him. He looked ready to lose it. She touched his cheek. “Call Hank and I will alert the Professor mentally,” she said softly. “Then we can go over to the mansion.”

She didn’t remember the next half hour clearly. Logan was yelling at Hank over the telephone, while she mentally reached out to the Professor and told him that they were on their way. In a flurry of panic, Logan got her bag, which had been packed for weeks and they put on their shoes and coats, found the keys to one of the cars and painstakingly made their way to the car.

Logan drove like a madman, glancing at her every two seconds. “It’s too early, ain’t it? How early? Christ ‘Ro, are ya in pain? How early?”

His flurry of questions oddly enough, calmed her. “Three weeks.”

“Three weeks! Almost a fuckin’ month!”

“Logan? Would you please stop your yelling? I have gone into labor, but not gone deaf,” Ororo huffed through a contraction.

“Oh, Christ, three weeks,” he grumbled as though he didn’t hear her. “Flamin’ Hank. That damned quack. Does he even know what the fuck he’s talkin’ ‘bout? I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

Ororo started laughing and he whipped his head around, fixing her with crazy eyes. “Hank is an excellent doctor and you would not kill him.”

“I’m serious, ‘Ro. I’m…Ah fuck, another pain? Hold on, baby.”

Through the haze of pain, she saw the lights of the mansion looming in the windshield and never was there a more welcoming sight. Logan had gotten them there without crashing them into any obstacles. He braked the car in the driveway and dashed out of the driver’s side to the passenger side. He unbuckled Ororo’s seatbelt and in one swoop, scooped her up into his arms and ran the rest of the way up to the entrance of the mansion. Both Hank and Charles greeted them with wide grins.

Logan gave Hank one of his patented death glares. “I’m gonna kill ya, Furball. The kid is three weeks early!”

“Please calm down Logan and let us get your little one into the world,” Charles interjected, attempting to calm the agitated feral.

In the med lab, the room she was placed in was too small for Logan’s liking. He instantly flew into a rage. “What kind of room is this? He demanded. “It’s ta damn small fer ‘Ro. Ya ferget she’s claustrophobic?”

“Logan?” Ororo called out to her manic husband. He was instantly at her side. “I am fine. The room is fine.”

“Ya sure, baby?” He asked, smoothing a few strands of hair away from her face.

She gave him a tremulous smile and nodded.

Logan’s head snapped around to see Hank sauntering in, grinning broadly. He clapped his hands. “Let us get your bundle of joy here.”

Logan stormed over to where the furry blue gentle beast was standing. He threatened the good doctor with many forms of torture and death for his inaccuracy about Ororo’s due date and the slowness in which he came into the delivery room. He paced and cursed, but to Ororo, he was loving and attentive.

Her labor progressed through the first half of the day. Logan was at her side the entire time, holding her hand, feeding ice chips through her dehydrated lips, talking to her softly and keeping her calm, so that the weather didn’t get too chaotic.

Charles Xavier inwardly laughed at Logan’s antics. He was surprised that the hyper feral was holding up this well. He broadcast that thought to Ororo, who laughed psychically. Charles then winked at his adoptive daughter as he wheeled himself out of the room, intent on going to his office to await the birth of his second grandchild.

It wasn’t quite noon when Dr. Jean Grey-Summers came in with Hank and told them that it was only a matter of minutes. They both went to clean up in preparation of delivering the second member of the future generation of the X-Men. The Summers’ daughter Rachel, was the first member and the third was soon to be that of the LeBeau’s.

“I’m sorry ‘Ro. Fer gettin’ ya in this mess.”

Ororo rose her elegant eyebrows in humor. “If that is the case, then I guess we will be living a life of celibacy after this one is born.”

Logan turned wide crazy eyes to her. “Hell no, ‘Ro. That ain’t happenin’.”

Her laughter soon turned into a moan as another contraction struck her.

“Hank? Jean? Get yer asses in gear,” Logan roared.

His eyes were strangely glossy as he leaned over her. “’Ro, I love ya. I love ya, so much.”

Amid the pain, the smells and the wrenching torture gripping her insides, she raised a slender hand to cup his jaw. “I love you too, dearest.” Then a pain gripped her and they counted through it together, while Jean came in and announced that Logan should clean up and put on some scrubs as it was time for the delivery.

Ororo looked up and said weakly, “Another mouth to feed by tonight, love.”

Logan rushed to the smaller room they used to clean up and did as Jean suggested. He was back in a matter of minutes. He took his place next to his wife, as Hank and Jean came in. “Let us get this joyous event started,” Hank said from behind his mask. Logan leveled him with another death glare.

Ororo couldn’t quite register it all, but she knew Logan never left her side. He was there encouraging her, loving her and keeping her calm as possible, so that the weather outside didn’t fall into any more disarray than it already was.

Through the mist of tiredness, she heard Logan growled and shout his happiness when Hank held up a squirming, squalling baby boy. “He is the perfect specimen. A carbon copy of you, Wolverine,” the doctor announced.

Ororo let her body sink gratefully onto the bed while everyone went about the usual hum drum tasks of an event that is above all else miraculous. She was incredibly content and tears of joy escaped from her eyes, when Logan was allowed to lift their son so she could see him better.
“He is handsome. Just like his father,” she sighed.

“Ya damn right!” Logan replied.

Jean then took the infant from him to do the standard footprints, weight and height measurements and DNA sample.

Logan clasped Ororo’s hand and was lovingly staring down into her face when he saw her eyes go wide and her teeth bite down on her lower lip.





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