Logan had lost his shirt some time ago; it had fallen to pieces only an hour into his rampage; and it seemed his pants were not far behind. He had discarded his boots before he’d even entered the room; knowing that his bare feet were far more suited to the cold steel floor of the danger room than the slippery wood soles of his favorite boots.
He ducked as his opponent, a robot replica of Sabretooth, swung at him. In the next moment, he lashed out with his foot, catching the robot in the head, knocking it sideways. He struck like lightning, leaping on it. He roared in rage, sinking his claws knuckle deep into the chest of his opponent, relishing the metallic screech and robotic scream the action produced.
The robot opponent fell backwards, with Logan kneeling on its chest as it fell. He kneeled there, as it stopped moving, panting loudly; more from adrenaline than physical exertion. Letting the roar die off, he pulled his claws free with a satisfied yank, sheathing them as he stood.
Behind him, a throat cleared loudly as a familiar scent finally penetrated his muddled and occupied brain. He grabbed a towel, not turning. “Ya should be in bed; ya need ta rest.”
Behind him, Ororo chuckled. “Hank just cleared me for light duty until next week. I have no wish to spend another moment lying in that bed; alone at any rate.”
Logan turned, wiping off his face as he pondered her.
She stood behind him, her arms crossed as she watched and waited for him to continue.
“How’d ya find me?”
She shrugged as she stepped closer, her eyes drifting over his body; almost as if she were searching for wounds. “Remy came to my room, nearly as surly as you tend to get. He told me that he found you heading towards the basement. When he told me how angry you were, and believe me he told me just how angry you were, it was very easy to guess just where you had gone.” She reached out to touch his shoulder and he went still.
He wanted so much to simply step closer, let her draw him into her arms and soothe away his anger and frustration. But he resisted the impulse. “Why are ya here ‘Ro?”
She let her arm fall. “Jean told me what happened. I thought that you might need to talk.”
He snorted. “I think I might’ve talked enough for today.”
“Logan…”
He cut her off. “What Storm? Did ya come here ta get me to rehash what happened, maybe get me ta apologize?”
She folded her arms across her chest once more, her eyes angry. “Of course not; unless you feel you should apologize.”
He shrugged. “Damned if I know.” He threw the towel down, picked up another and simply stared at it.
She stood there, silent, waiting.
He sighed loudly. He knew that she wasn’t about to let it go or leave him alone until he talked about what had happened. “I lost it. They’re grievin’ and hurt and needin’ ta lash out and I lost it.”
“Logan, what happened?”
“When Chuck told them about what really happened, they forgot about the drunk that hit ya. They focused all their rage on Rogue, started ta blame her. When I smelled the hate coming off ‘em, I lost it.”
“It was Rogue’s gift that killed her.”
He looked at her, angry for a moment as he whipped the towel into the corner. “I know that but it don’t make her responsible for what happened.”
She nodded. “Agreed. But that does not change the truth of what happened. Given time, Jennifer’s parents would have seen that.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Now we shall never know.”
He looked at her sharply, trying to read her face. “You sidin’ with them?”
She shook her head. “I am not here to take sides or lay blame, I have only come to listen.”
“But you’ve got an opinion.”
“Of course.”
“Well?”
“The driver of the other vehicle is at fault. All other results are incidental.”
“Bingo. He’s the one who made the conscience choice ta ignore the law and common sense. He’s the one that decided ta drink and get behind the wheel. And he’s the one that caused the circumstances that led ta her death. Rogue wasn’t even given that option.”
“That is what bothers you the most about all of this.”
“Yer damned right. Lord knows I ain’t innocent. I’ve killed before, many times; that ain’t no secret round here. But I made that choice; I chose my path a long time ago; ta live this life and I’m responsible for the blood on my hands.
“But Rogue was never given an option, never given a choice. That bastard took that from her and Jennifer’s parents want to hate her for it. What they don’t realize is that she’s been wronged just as much as they have; both girls are victims in this.”
“Ah, now we have reached the real truth of the matter; you are angry at them.”
“Damned right; they’re blaming her.”
“A perfectly understandable response given what has been done to them.”
“Don’t ya think I don’t know that? Ya think I don’t understand grief and loss? But like I said, I lost it when I smelled the hate. They hated her Ororo; they hated me, they hated ya, this school, Xavier, Jean, even other mutants. It didn’t matter to ‘em”
Ororo reached out once more, touching him gently. This time he didn’t move away or resist as she drew him closer. “Your anger is misplaced Logan. Their reactions were perfectly normal, human responses. Someone hurt their daughter; they simply reacted. It is really not that much different than your reaction now to them hurting Rogue.”
Her touch soothed him, calming the anger and rage inside him. He felt the beast subside and go dormant once more as she simply touched him. He sighed as he reached out and drew her closer. He stood there, simply holding her as he thought on what she had said.
She was right; there was no way around it and they both knew it. Devon and Carol’s reactions had not only been perfectly normally, but also predictable. Logan had no way of knowing if the anger they felt would ever really go away; but he was pretty sure that the hatred would most likely be short lived. They just needed time; they all just needed time.
He sighed. “I’m gonna have ta apologize ain’t I?”
Ororo smiled as she kissed him gently. “No, just let it go. There has been enough hurt done by both sides. Let it rest.”
“Alright darlin’. Come on, let’s go upstairs and get somethin’ ta eat; I’m suddenly starvin’. Who knows, maybe I’ll give ya another massage if yer up for it.” He took her hand in his and they walked out of the danger room together.
“You shall spoil me Logan.”
He chuckled as they headed for the elevator, hand in hand. “That’s the idea darlin’.”
Despite what had been said between Logan and Jennifer’s parents, Xavier managed to persuade them to stay for a few days, take some time among her friends and classmates and attend the memorial service that would be held in two days.
Logan managed to avoid Devon and Carol; after the heated words that had been exchanged between them, he had no wish to speak with them until some time had passed. Luckily for him, they were no more eager to talk to him and a fragile peace descended over the mansion. There was nothing to do but wait until the memorial service; the entire mansion seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for that day.
But there was one member of the mansion who stood apart from all of the chaos and grief. He waited in the shadows, watching; trying to understand what was going on. The oppressive stillness that invaded the mansion had drawn him out to wander the halls, looking for the source. His searching had brought him to the back of the mansion, where the patio doors opened onto the large English gardens that were at the back of the mansion. He stood there for several moments, watching in silence as Professor Xavier began the memorial service.
Jimmy had sensed that something was wrong inside the school, even before the Professor had told him about the accident. There had been a feeling on the air, a tension that told him something had happened; almost as if he were telepathic himself. He had walked the halls for the past few days, quiet and unnoticed, watching the other students as they wandered through the mansion. Some of them had been crying; some of them had looked shocked; some of them had seemed very, very angry. It didn’t take him long to realize that someone had died. He had seen death before; he knew the signs. What he didn’t know was how Logan and Ororo fit into all of it.
He knew that somehow they must be involved; neither one of them had been by to see him in nearly four days. It wouldn’t have been strange except for the fact that both made it a point to visit him everyday; to talk with him, spend time with him. Other then the professor they were the only adults in the mansion he felt comfortable with. They didn’t treat him like there was anything wrong with him; or that he was a freak or damaged for what had been done to him. They treated him like a normal teenage kid.
Jimmy knew that he must have had a family once, before he was taken. He must have had parents who loved him, maybe even siblings. But any memories he might have had from before his time in the lab were hazy and incomplete. He couldn’t trust them and he couldn’t understand them so he simply chose to forget them. But if given a choice, he would like to have thought that his parents had been like the people at the school. Loving, caring, understanding; willing to love him for himself and not hate him for what nature had given him.
He hadn’t been at the mansion very long; certainly not long enough to have understood all of the dynamics at play within its walls. But he was a quiet observer often fading into the background unseen and he was patient; far more patient than any fifteen year old had a right to be. An expert at reading body language, his observations of those living in mansion had begun to paint him a picture of just how and where everyone fit inside the social structure of the mansion.
Jimmy was 15 years old; forced to grow up far too soon by a group of hardcore bigots that had wanted to use him as a weapon. They had never seen him as a human being; never understood that underneath, he and they were fundamentally the same. At his age, he never should have been able to understand any of the emotional turmoil in the mansion; he never should have been aware that it existed in the first place. At his age, he should have been oblivious to anything beyond the concerns of any normal fifteen year old American boy. But he wasn’t a normal boy and he saw all too clearly.
Because he saw, because he understood that the specter of death had come to visit the mansion, he stood, hidden in the shadows as the Professor conducted the memorial service to honor a fallen student. He looked at each face, memorizing expressions, postures and gestures, trying to understood how everyone was feeling; how they were reacting to the tragedy that had visited their once safe haven.
Deep inside, a part of him grieved for these children. They had lost something because of this death. Their veil of illusions about the safe world they lived in had been shattered and could never be repaired. No longer would they look at life and see only the good, the golden and the optimistic. Now they would find themselves looking deeper, questioning, looking for the loophole or the danger sign.
For many of them there would no longer be an instant feeling of trust; instead there would be a yearning to trust but an inability to do so; some of them would be forever haunted by that lack. In effect, these children had taken another step towards adulthood with their blindfolds removed.
He found that he could relate; he too saw with eyes no longer clouded in delusion or sentiment. Though in the case of the other students, he was thankful that for them the process of removing the blindfold had been far kinder than that used on him. They would grieve, they would hurt but they would heal and they would move on. He wondered when he too would be able to take that first step.
His attention shifted slightly as he turned his gaze from the students to the adults. His training had emphasized adults, people in power who were or could become threats to him or those he worked for. A couple of weeks of freedom could not erase the training drilled so harshly into him and he found himself gathering data without intending to. His eyes wandered over the adults that sat scattered among the students, offering their support and empathy. He spotted Dr. McCoy and Dr Grey sitting near to each other and he paused a moment. They had been the first of the adult residents that he had interacted closely with and his opinions had formed quickly.
From his observations, he knew that the others called Dr. McCoy, Hank and that the beast-like mutant was very smart. But he was also an introspective man, preferring quiet solitude inside his lab with his experiments and theories and reading his books to interacting with many others inside the mansion.
He knew that Dr Grey was a telekinetic and strongly suspected her of being telepathic; how he knew these things he couldn’t say, but he trusted his instincts and did not question the knowledge. His eyes fell on Mr. Summers, or Scott as he had heard him called. He had seen Dr. Grey and Mr. Summers together only once, but he knew that they were in a relationship, had heard others talk about them sharing a room; that they were practically married for all intents and purposes.
Jimmy recalled other times that he had met Scott, meetings where Logan had been present. There had been a sense of unease between the two men that seemed to emanate, not from Logan but from the other man. Almost as if Scott did not completely trust Logan. The one instance that Dr Grey had been in the room, the unease had deepened to something more sinister, darker, thicker, more oppressive. He guessed that somehow, she was responsible, though he hadn’t been able to see how as of yet.
His gaze continued around the room, falling on another adult; Remy. He had met the bayou rat through Ororo. The moment he met Remy, Jimmy knew that he had spent time as a thief. There was nothing overt in him that broadcast the fact, but it did not change Jimmy’s conclusion. He couldn’t say how he knew; part of it was the training he had been given; to read the small clues that people unintentionally broadcast about themselves. Part of it was simple instinct. Whatever the source, Jimmy found himself liking the young man. When he discovered that Remy was Ororo’s adopted brother, he felt an even greater connection towards him.
His eyes were next drawn to Logan and Ororo, sitting next to each other and to Remy, a young girl he did not know sitting between them. To Jimmy, Logan became a hero, a role model; someone that under different circumstances, he would have consciously emulated. Logan had after all rescued him from the bowels of hell. But it was more than just that. Jimmy had seen Logan in action inside the lab complex; he’d seen the violence held under tight control inside the man. It sparked a feeling of kinship inside of Jimmy that he had never felt before.
And this in turn sparked a revelation: They were lethal weapons. Both had been trained to kill without thought or consequence. Both had been shown how to release the darker parts of themselves to be used by those who held the power. But Logan had shown him that despite this, there was still a choice for them: they could either sit idly by to be used by other people or they could think for themselves and make the choice to use their skills to help others. He found that no longer such a difficult choice to make.
As for Ororo, he thought of her as simply an angel come to Earth. Even before he met her, Jimmy knew that she and Logan were in a relationship. It resonated in Logan’s voice every time he spoke her name. It softened his face, awoke something in his eyes, enough to tell Jimmy that she was someone special to him.
And when he had met her, he knew that she felt just as strongly for Logan as he felt for her. Jimmy too felt nearly as strongly towards her, though for an entirely different reason. She filled a void inside him, fulfilling a need he had to know his own mother. She touched a part of him he had been unaware needed anyone’s touch.
In many ways, Ororo was the reason that he chose to stay and begin the arduous process of recovery. He could have run away a long time ago, and simply disappeared. He had both the knowledge and abilities to make tracking him a very difficult prospect. But he did not because Ororo held him back. He knew that his leaving would hurt her, and he do anything to prevent that, even dredge up the painful memories of the past in order to begin moving on. So he stayed and he quietly watched; learning about the people of the mansion and about himself as well.
He turned to leave when something caught his eye. He had at first ignored the slight figure sitting between Remy and Logan. But the figure shifted slightly and something about the motion caught his eye. He knew that her name was Rogue; at least that was what Logan called her; the others called her Marie.
He knew her name, but he had no idea who she was or why she had drawn his attention. He stared at her for a moment, pondering, trying to understand what had caught his eye. Then he saw it; unlike many of the others, she was sobbing softly but violently. Her head was bowed, nearly resting on Remy’s shoulder but not quite touching him. He noticed that both Logan and Remy were holding one of her hands firmly in their own; and that her hands were covered in thick gloves.
He watched her grieving, surrounded by those that cared about her and felt it touch something deep inside. He understood pain and grief; Lord knew that he seen more than his fair share of it in the past months. But he did not understand her pain and grief; he couldn’t understand its cause. And so he just watched her.
He stood in the doorway, watching her shoulders shaking as she shed silent tears for her fellow student. He was intrigued. No one else, save Jennifer’s parents showed the same amount of grief that she was displaying. No one else seemed as wracked by their grief as she. He wondered just what had caused it; and thought that perhaps the next time he spoke with Logan, or the Professor he would ask. Whatever it was about her grief, he needed to find out why it touched him so deeply.
He watched her for several long moments as Xavier spoke, eulogizing Jennifer. Then like a shadow, he simply left the memorial to wait for a chance to gain the information he needed.
After the memorial service ended, everyone dispersed. For the rest of the day, the students spent time talking with the adults and each other about Jennifer and their memories of her. Xavier encouraged Devon and Carol to wander the mansion among their daughter’s friends. Having no idea what else they should do, they did as he suggested. And found an entirely different side to their daughter that they had never known existed. When Charles encouraged them to stay on for a few more days, they agreed easily.
But the mansion was far from peaceful; there were far too many chaotic personalities in residence for that. And as the day progressed, coming to an end and the next day began, life in the mansion began to slowly return to normal. Devon and Carol watched in wonder as they were treated to a rare insight into a normal day for the residents of the school. And while most of the chaos in the mansion was caused by the students, the adults themselves were responsible for a fair share of it as well. Logan and Ororo seemed the foremost culprits.
Despite Hank’s medical clearance for Ororo, Logan wouldn’t allow her to train. He even went so far as to forbid her access to the workout rooms and told everyone that if they saw her training, they were to tie her to the nearest piece of furniture available. He knew that he was overreacting slightly; she hadn’t been severely injured in the accident. But he wanted to be damned sure that she was well before he started kicking her ass on the mat again.
Ororo seemed at first to take Logan’s protectiveness in stride; at least for the first couple of days. When Logan held firm on the third day after her clearance, she became annoyed. They had a loud argument that everyone in the mansion pretended not to hear.
“Logan, this is ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of going for a run around the grounds. You are overreacting.”
Logan watched her as she stood in front of him, her blue eyes blazing, ready to set him on fire if he continued to stand in her way. He fought the urge to smile; he really loved to watch her when she was riled. She was damned sexy when she was angry.
“Maybe. But that don’t change the fact that I’ll drag yer pretty ass back to yer room if ya so much as think about doing anythin’ not on Hank’s list.”
She appeared stunned for a moment at his easy agreement to her caustic statement. “I have been cleared medically by both Hank and Jean, Logan. I am on light duty until next week; but that does not mean that I cannot train with you. There is nothing on Hank’s list that prohibits that.”
Logan chuckled. “If you really think that darlin’, let’s see ya fly. If Hank hasn’t grounded ya fer the next few days, I’ll let ya run today.” He watched as her lips pursed tightly in annoyance.
“You are being unfair Logan. I am perfectly capable of deciding what I should and should not do after being injured.”
Logan could see that she was more than annoyed. She was frustrated and emotional herself; she needed an outlet. But in order to help her heal physically, most of her normal activities were being denied to her.
Hank had been adamant, with Jean’s support that she be grounded for the next several days; they were unsure just how her healing mind would react to the use of her powers. So, they had also given her a neural inhibitor to prevent her using her abilities unconsciously as well. She had tried planting in her greenhouse, but when she mentioned that her mild headache had actually worsened, that was taken from her as well.
He knew that she was nearing the point of lashing out herself. He reached out and drew her close, wrapping his arms around her slender body. He heard her sigh even as she relaxed against him.
He reached up to touch her face gently. “I know ya can handle yerself darlin’. I ain’t got any doubts bout that. But I also know how stubborn ya can be. Ya’d run yerself into the ground if we let ya. And ya’d do it just to prove ta Hank and I that ya could. But just this once, please let’s do it our way.”
She stiffened slightly against him.
Logan pressed on. “I just wanna make sure that head of yours is healed. I promise that you’ll feel better tomorrow. And I’ll take ya running myself, after I talk with Hank. Deal?”
“Agreed.”
“Great. Now, how ‘bout a movie. We never did get around ta seein’ The Sixth Sense like ya wanted.”
She smiled, seemingly relieved to be occupied for even such a short time. “That sounds lovely Logan.”
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