Chapter Four: Prita's Woe
And I taste what I could never have
It was from you
All the times that I’ve cried
My intentions full of pride
But I waste more time than anyone
~Staind
“All right, come on, baby girl.”
Ororo watched with tears in her eyes as Logan lifted her tiny, feverish daughter into his arms. When she’d awoken to Prita’s entreating cries, the sort that tear at a mother’s heart, she’d been certain all would be well.
Two hours later, the thermometer read one hundred and four degrees. Prita continued to whimper, as though begging her mother to take the pain away. Without thinking, without bothering to question the impulse, Ororo had run for Logan’s bedroom.
There was no sneering nor attempt to distance himself from the situation, much to her surprise. He’d taken one look at her face and leapt into action.
“’Ro, get her elephant,” he ordered her briskly, tucking a light blanket around the shivering child.
“Of course.”
Fumbling with worry and nerves, Ororo gathered up her daughter’s sipping cup and elephant, then followed Logan out of the room. Neither of them bothered with shoes as they rushed through the still-silent house toward the garage.
He quickly opened the car door, buckling Prita into her safety seat. When the little one whimpered pitifully, she thought Logan whined low in his throat.
“It’s all right, princess,” Logan soothed. “Don’t worry. We’ll get ya feelin’ better.”
Prita’s thumb instantly went into her mouth as Logan closed the door. When he turned to her, Ororo felt the fear slip onto her face.
“Hey,” Logan frowned, drawing her into his arms. “Don’t fall apart, girl, she don’t need that now. You gotta be strong.”
“She is so sick, Logan,” Ororo murmured against his chest, her voice muffled by his white t-shirt.
“Yeah, but we’ll get her some help,” he replied soothingly. “Come on.”
He reached behind her, opening the car door and gently shifting her to sit in it. Though most would think it beyond strange to see the unflappable Ororo Munroe come completely off her axle, Logan took it all in stride.
After ensuring both of his passengers were safely strapped into Scott’s car, he jogged around and slid into the driver’s seat. In mere seconds, he’d roared the engine to life and began easing down the driveway.
The ride to the small county hospital seemed to take hours, though Ororo knew Logan was most definitely not obeying all posted speed limits. Prita’s whimpers soon escalated into screams, which their protector responded to by punching the gas pedal.
He pulled into the ambulance bay, paying no heed to the signs that said only emergency vehicles were allowed to park there. Ororo leapt from the car, allowing Logan to pull her tiny, bellowing child from her car seat.
“We need a doctor,” he barked the moment they were in view of the nurse’s station.
The nurse looked surprised at the unlikely trio. Her bored green eyes looked from frazzled Ororo, to screaming Prita, and finally a snarling Wolverine.
“There are a few forms you have to fill out.”
“Are you mad?” Ororo screeched. “Her temperature is one hundred and four, we need emergency care!”
“I’m sorry but hospital policy clearly states…”
Prita let loose a screech worthy of the mutant they lovingly referred to as Banshee. Logan shifted the wailing girl in his arms, advancing on the now frightened nurse.
“Do you not have a soul, you unfeeling bitch?” he thundered loudly enough that all other activity in the emergency room ceased immediately. “Get me a fuckin’ doctor before I’m forced to get angry!”
Pride welled in Ororo’s chest when the nurse startled visibly. Logan continued to glare at her while Prita screamed her displeasure, batting her tiny dark fists in the air. For a moment, no one moved. Ororo suspected many in the immediate vicinity were terrified to so much as breathe.
“What seems to be the trouble?”
Logan and Ororo whipped around, both spotting a young woman in a smart white lab coat. She moved toward Logan, seemingly unafraid, warming a stethoscope with the palm of her hand.
“What’s the matter, baby?” the doctor cooed, pressing the stethoscope to Prita’s chest.
“She was fine this evening when I put her down,” Ororo recited instantly, relieved someone was doing something. “She woke a few hours ago crying. Her temperature is very high.”
“Yes, I can see that,” the woman clucked her tongue, motioning for the orderlies. “Ok, lets see what we can do to make her feel better.”
Logan placed Prita on a much too large bed that the orderlies appeared with. They rolled the little girl down the hall into an examination room, allowing both Ororo and Logan to follow. Doctor Tate, her badge provided useful information, asked Ororo several questions as the group settled in the curtained off room.
“Where was she born?”
Ororo swallowed thickly. “New Delhi, India.”
“American citizen?”
“Yes, I’m her mother.”
The doctor peered into Prita’s eyes, nose, and mouth, heedless to the girl’s cries of displeasure. “Previous medical conditions?”
“There were none in her medical record.”
Doctor Tate and Logan both turned to her curiously. Ororo sighed. “She is adopted. I have only had her for six months.”
“Ah,” Tate nodded. “I’ll need to run some blood work on her and there are forms to fill out, but we’ll start her on an IV and get her something to bring that fever down, all right?”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
The woman’s smile was warm and friendly in a way that comforted Ororo immensely.
“Why don’t you and Dad here go catch your breath and start on the paperwork? I’ll stay here with…”
“Prita,” Logan offered easily, closing his hand over Ororo’s shoulder. “Her name is Prita.”
“Pretty,” Tate grinned before going back to her tiny patient.
Logan led Ororo from the room, finding her a chair when the adrenaline rush left her as quickly as it had come. His hand was strong, giving her a jolt of sheer will that kept relieved sobs from wracking her shoulders.
In a little while, he would want to know the details and they would both question why she had chosen him as her knight with shining claws, but for now, she was content to simply enjoy the feeling of protection.
“Have a seat, I’ll go get those papers and call One-Eye.”
~**~
Shortly before dawn, an exhausted mother, slumbering child and stoic man entered the quiet mansion where they made their home. Logan held the door open, letting Ororo and her sleeping child enter without struggle.
Silently, he led them up the stairs, carrying the little elephant and a paper bag filled with medications. Ororo did not speak as they both settled Prita onto the bed, erecting a pillow brigade to ensure she would not hurt herself in sleep.
He jerked his head toward the bedroom door, as though he knew she would not be able to sleep. Nodding, she took the monitor and followed him out of the room.
Downstairs, she took a seat, letting him carrying on controlling the situation. She watched him as he made coffee, her chin propped in the palm of her hand. He really had no right to look so wonderfully masculine after a sleepless evening.
The taut lines of his back were accentuated by the stretch of his shirt. Unbidden, the memory of their night together drifted into her mind. Pieces flashed behind her eyes. His hands on her flesh, that soft, sexy smirk when she straddled him, that growling voice as she took him into her.
She fought her mind’s seduction, telling herself the ache building inside of her was a combination of exhaustion and sexual frustration.
It worked, until he turned to her, bringing a cup of steaming coffee and the last box of cheese Danishes.
“Just don’t tell Scott, you’ll get me in trouble,” he winked, sliding into the chair across from her.
Giving him an appreciative smile, she placed her hand over her heart. “I will take the secret to my grave.”
They each selected a sticky, sweet pastry, chewing over the box in lieu of collecting plates. The sun peeked over the edge of the kitchen window’s curtains while they eat breakfast in the quiet calm of early morning.
She was aware that they continued to stare at one another, as a pair of unfamiliar beasts crossing paths in the wild. Careful movements and long, penetrating looks passed between them where conversation would have stood for most.
At long last, he asked the question she knew had burned him since the day she’d returned.
“Why didn’t you just come out and say Prita’s adopted?”
Sighing, Ororo inhaled the rest of her Danish before she spoke.
“I did not realize it was anyone’s business.”
“It was mine, Ororo,” he countered without any hint of anger. “You know what it was like, thinking I’d gone and knocked you up?”
“I hope it was similar to being used as a replacement for a dead woman.”
She managed to keep the venom from her tone, though it was replaced with a voice akin to a whining teenager. Clearing her throat, she shook her head, refusing to apologize.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got thick skin,” he said plainly.
“I did not intend for you to get the wrong impression.”
“I didn’t think it was deliberate.”
They fell into a silence that seemed caught between comfortable and tense. Logan toyed with the handle of his coffee mug, leaving her to stare at his long, thick fingers.
“How’d you…I dunno,” Logan shrugged. “How’d you meet her?”
Ororo offered him a small smile. “I volunteered at an orphanage several times a week. When Prita was four months old, her parents were killed in a car accident. She had no known family, or none that wanted her.”
“Took one look at her and she stole your heart?” he was smiling when she met his eyes.
“Little thief,” Ororo nodded. “And she stubbornly refuses to give it back.”
“Damn her,” Logan chuckled for the first time in her presence since she returned.
“It was so strange,” Ororo rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “One moment I was handing out new clothes to some of the elder children, and then I heard a little cooing noise. I peeked into the crib nearby and there she was.”
Logan was watching her carefully, that fond, simple smile on his face. For some reason, he enjoyed hearing about her daughter. Warming, though completely against her own will, Ororo let herself laugh softly.
“How’d you manage to get her?” Logan questioned. “I’ve heard overseas adoption can be hell.”
Ororo gave him an incredulous look. “Really, Logan. Do you truly not know?”
For a moment, he looked confused. A beat later, the features of his face reflected something akin to a light bulb going off above his head.
“Chuck.”
“Of course,” she nodded. “He pulled strings, made calls, paid off government officials…”
At Logan’s shocked expression, Ororo burst into laughter. He swatted at her playfully, obviously not enjoying her humor at his expense. She managed to control herself a few moments later, though the smile on Logan’s face was very quickly drowning out the voice in the back of her head. The one that told her to run, as fast as she could, out of the room before he hurt her again had gone from an insistent scream to a dull murmur.
Luckily, Scott broke through the suddenly thick air as he entered the kitchen. His glasses were slightly askew, hair standing on end, and a blonde woman grumbling as she stumbled in behind him.
Ororo tossed Logan a quick, confused glance, to which he smirked knowingly as he hid the Danish box under the table.
“Morning,” Scott yawned. “Oh, how’s the munchkin princess?”
“Fine, now,” Ororo grinned. “She has quite the monster of an ear infection, but the doctor gave us something for the pain.”
“Good,” Scott and his blonde bedmate helped themselves to coffee, taking a seat at the table with Logan and Ororo.
She did not question him, assuming this was Renee, a woman the Professor had told her about with hints of annoyance in his tone. Logan met Ororo’s eyes and mimed falling asleep. She bit back a snort of laughter by the sheer force of will.
“You must be Ororo,” Renee said, her voice making the sound of nails on a chalkboard sound like Mozart.
“Yes, it is nice to meet you, Renee.”
“Scottie tell you all about me?” the woman preened, reaching over the table to kiss Scott noisily.
Logan gagged into his coffee cup.
Struggling to be polite through annoyance and humor, Ororo nodded with a false smile on her face. She kicked Logan under the table, warning him to stop trying to make her laugh. He chuckled, covering it with a cough rather convincingly.
“How are you this morning?”
“Wonderful,” Renee gushed. “I have a meeting in a little while though. We’re merging with a new company this week and there’s still so much to do!”
Horrified that she would spend her morning talking business practices with a woman whose voice made her want to claw her ears off, Ororo was grateful when her daughter came to the rescue. A soft whimper, followed swiftly by a wail brought Ororo to her feet.
“I had best check on the poor dear,” she excused herself quickly. “I do hope we can continue this later.”
“Sure! I’d like that,” Renee said with a bright smile. “Scottie just raves about you!”
“Isn’t that lovely?” she flashed them all a quick grin and turned to leave the room.
Once she was behind Renee, Ororo turned to find Logan glaring at her. Feeling slightly mischievous, she pointed at him and snickered silently. He made a scowling face at her, which brought laughter dangerously close to leaving her throat.
Covering her mouth to hold back a fit of giggles, she darted out of the kitchen.
~**~
That night, sleep eluded Ororo completely. Though the last twenty-four hours had exhausted her beyond anything before, she lay awake in her bed. Prita slept soundly beside her, the little snores ensuring her fretting mother than she was resting. Healing.
As she gazed at the ceiling, her thoughts drifted back to Logan. She should have been thinking of bedridden Charles just one floor above. She should have been more concerned with Prita’s recovery. End of term exams. The price of rice in China.
She should have been thinking of something -- anything -- other than Logan.
Her day was filled with Prita’s cries and helping students where she could. A stop to the Professor’s rooms had also been in order. The man looked at her strangely a few times, but said nothing of it.
Now, in the welcome night, Logan would not give her peace. She remembered the previous evening with sharp clarity. How he gathered Prita into his arms, shouted so ferociously at the rude nurse…he was not the man she had left behind.
Logan had never seemed caring and attentive to her. It was true that he was just as protective as any of them. He easily took to the children, though many would find it surprising. She still did not know why she thought of him when in need of help.
Oh, who did she think she was fooling? She knew instinctively that he would render whatever aid she required, no matter how strained their relationship. The look on his face when he encountered the whimpering child stole her breath away.
What would he be like if he had children of his own? How would he have reacted if Prita truly had been his?
These thoughts would only lead to madness. Slipping out of her bed, Ororo moved to the window, checking on slumbering Prita with a quick glance over her shoulder.
She leaned against the window frame, looking out into the moonlit night. That morning in the kitchen, he seemed so open. It was as though nothing happened between them. As though he truly saw her as a woman and not an echo of the love he’d lost.
For a painful moment, she’d imagined what it would be like to share those moments with him more often. Breakfasts and trips to the hospital when their child fell ill. It hurt her to crash back to reality, finding herself shivering and alone.
He’d been right the other day in the kitchen. What bothered her more than his betrayal was her inability to rid herself of the feelings she had carried since their first meeting in Charles’ office. Even separated by two years and thousands of miles, her weakness for Logan was not dulled even the slightest.
She hated him for it.
Had he called her name that night, things would have been so different. Perhaps she would have a child by now, borne of her body. Glancing at Prita again, she chided herself. That little girl was her child now, even if there was no blood shared between mother and daughter. She loved Prita more than life itself.
If only she could rid herself of that stomach-swooping, heart-thudding, head-spinning feeling Logan could always invoke in her.
She had to be practical now. Prita needed her mother to be wholly there for her, not distracted by a man with a sexy smile and well-muscled limbs. Ororo made her decision the day the paperwork was signed.
For Prita’s sake, she would simply find a way to bury her feelings for Logan, much as she had before that night spent in his arms. It was a memory that would have to be enough for her.
Ororo’s eyes darted back to the window, drawn immediately to a shadowed figure standing at the edge of the forest. As though he sensed her eyes on him, the unmistakable silhouette lifted its head. She could see the moonlight reflect in his eyes as their gazes locked.
“Wolverine.”
Long moments passed as they held eye contact. The dull throb in her head screamed that she had held her breath too long, but she was unable to move. Heat and promise of delicious violence radiated from that dark stare. She felt that primal call in the deep, secret places of her heart, warring with the memory of his flesh on hers, the feel of him throbbing inside her.
Prita whimpered.
Ororo turned her head, breaking the moment and gasping for air. She watched the tiny, blanket-covered form on her bed adjust and fall back into a deep sleep. Ororo whipped her head back to the window.
Logan was gone.
~**~
Ororo speaks:
I knew I was in trouble. It’s easy to bury your feelings beneath hatred. Easier when you think the person you are in love with does not even realize you are female.
It is a great deal more difficult when that person seems to awake, as though in a long sleep. That is what I feel happened that night. It was the first time Logan had looked upon me with that kind of fire in his eyes.
Heady, thick, and easy to lose yourself in. It was how he had looked upon Jean. No, perhaps not. I do not recall Logan’s eyes ever reflecting so much of his primitive nature in Jean’s presence. He had endeavored to be more man than beast with her.
I wanted that beast. I think, perhaps, that Logan realized it that night. It was in those stolen moments, our eyes locked across the school grounds, that I knew I would never truly flush Logan from my system.
My decision, at that point, was logical. If I could exorcise him properly, maybe I could move on. Oh, how wrong I was. Even with Prita’s presence telling me to behave myself, Logan could always convince me to be naughty.
I had no idea how much those few seconds would change my life. Or his.
