Logan hated the wail of sirens. Some things never changed. Ororo’s hand felt too cool and too limp, and her skin’s pallor was a shade too gray for him to feel anything but gut-clenching fear. His heart hammered all the way up into his throat, making him choke and cough on the dust he’d breathed in for the past three hours that it took for them to be found.
“Wake up, ‘Ro. Yer scarin’ me, darlin’,” he rasped. Her eyelids twitched faintly, as though she were searching for him, drinking in his words, but he could have imagined it.
“Sir, we need to take her vitals,” the paramedic reminded him. “Take it easy. We just need to get her settled and checked in, and you can resume your spot. You won’t have to leave her at all, okay? I promise.”
“Sure,” Logan grumbled, loathe to let her go. His fingers loosened as they tugged her wrist, freeing her from his grasp. That’s what they all said. Mariko was already gone by the time the paramedics came to take her away, but he wouldn’t let go of her hand until they pried him away. The funeral was a closed casket affair, and a portrait of Mariko graced the altar of the temple, showing her as vibrant and beautiful as she was the day that they met. Itsu never forgave him, and his father-in-law informed him that any connections to their family that he ever had were severed with his daughter’s death.
Oxygen hissed through the mask covering the lower half of Ororo’s face. A long scratch across her forehead leaked blood into her white hair, staining it and making Logan cringe. He was dying to wipe it away. Guiltily his thoughts slid back to that night in the shower as he washed her hair. He wanted that moment back. He wanted to tell her what he should have said in the first place.
~*~
“We’d better head on outta here, darlin’, if ya wanna get any rest. Gonna turn into prunes pretty soon,” he rumbled.
“Yeah. Sure. Right,” she rasped, tilting her neck to give those firm lips better access.
“Yer supposed ta be the voice of reason here, ‘Ro.” He was tracing the line of her jaw with his lips, making it difficult for her to think…
“Mmmmmmm.”
“That didn’t sound much like reason.” She was slowly tilting her face for more of his kisses.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned.
“Don’t want to.” He didn’t want to let her go. It was the sensible thing to do just that.
Screw sensibility. She wasn’t moving, laid out on the stretcher, not making so much as a sound. He should have taken the chance he had before and ran with it.
“Didn’t wanna fail ya, ‘Ro,” he whispered, watching the paramedics take her blood pressure again and adjust the IV of fluids in her arm. He heard the driver barking into the small radio about needing to run X-rays when they made it to the emergency room, informing the dispatcher to expect one woman, late twenties, with a deep concussion, and shoulder fracture of moderate severity. Logan’s blood ran cold as he heard the static-riddled response that a second ambulance was following them in, carrying in one male, mid-thirties, in equally bad condition that would need the radiology suite first. Shit.
Why didn’t she just listen? He tried telling himself she would have been fine back at the bungalow, until he realized that she would have been all alone when the quake hit. He never should have hared off like that.
His angry thoughts kept him company as he continued to stare at her and pray the rest of the way to the hospital.
Less than a mile away:
“Don’t leave me. Do you hear me, baby? Don’t leave me,” Jean cried, her voice hoarse and strained. Streaks of dark makeup ran down her cheeks, making her bear little resemblance to the camera-ready beauty of a few hours ago. A sympathetic paramedic bade her to lie back, but Jean stubbornly refused. The cannula tugged against her cheek; the plastic felt cool but unwelcome. Her leg burned from knee to ankle, and someone was bidding her to lie still as they probed the raw flesh.
“Looks broken,” the woman tsked.
“Stop poking at it!” Jean hissed. They were distracting her from Scott. He still hadn’t woke up to dispel the terror she’d suffered since his last words before they were brought out. “Scott, wake up. Please.” The plaintive note in her voice baffled her. He’d tried to wash his hands of her only that morning. Why was she begging him to stay?
She pushed that traitorous thought aside. This was Scott. How would she live without him?
Nausea clawed its way up into her chest, making her dizzy. She fell back onto the scratchy, cool pillow as stray tears leaked from her eyes. She knew she was a lost cause and looked absolutely torn up, but she couldn’t worry about that. It was awkward, but she kept her grip on Scott’s limp hand. By the time they reached the bay of the hospital driveway, Scott groaned in pain, but lightly squeezed her fingers back. Jean felt the contact and began sobbing again in gasping, gulping breaths.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Summers. Just lie back and relax. He’s okay. We want to help you, too.”
“Don’t take him away from me,” she pleaded. “Don’t let anyone…take him away from me.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it.” They couldn’t know the full intent behind her words. Jean decided to believe them.
Mere hours before:
For once, focus on Scott. He needs you now more than ever.
Logan’s words tore at her. “We have to get him out of here, Logan! We can’t just…”
“Jeannie! Listen ta me! Ya don’t know how hard Scott was hit, he coulda fractured his friggin’ neck, or his brain could be swelling. Ya don’t wanna make things worse while yer tryin’ ta help.” At her stricken look, he rubbed his palm over his face. “Just keep him warm,” he suggested, trying to take the edge off his words. She’d already had a swift kick in the teeth for the day, he figured. Her losing her contract, and no one speaking up for her had to hurt. Madelyne and Alex showing up on her doorstep didn’t help matters. Grimly Logan brooded about the implications of their visit. Was Madelyne pulling a Jean? Did she come to claim her property “ Scotty “ or did she just figure she’d visit the set for kicks? And why did she make a scene with her son right there to witness it all?
That reminded him that they lost track of Alex and his wife. “Shit. Where’re the other three?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t care right now,” Jean whimpered, stroking back Scott’s hair from his brow.
“Sure ya do. Don’t say that, Jeannie,” Logan grumbled, pausing in his firm caress against Ororo’s back in a near-futile attempt to soothe her. “She’s yer sister. She’s yer family.”
“I’d be better off with a nest of rattlesnakes,” Jean scoffed harshly. “She’s not my sister anymore.”
“Ya might feel differently about that when we get outta here, kid,” he warned. “Don’t say anything now ya might regret.”
“Don’t worry, Logan. Scott already warned me about talking shit about his precious Madelyne. You don’t have to take her side, too!”
“I ain’t takin’ her side, Red.”
“Sure you aren’t.”
“I ain’t. I know she hurt ya.”
“You hurt me, too!” Her eyes sparked at him, and she was past caring about the way Ororo stiffened against Logan as they huddled together. “You know I needed you, and you deserted me.”
“It ain’t all about you, Jeannie. And I didn’t desert ya. What we had made a muck of yer marriage. We drew it out fer way too damned long.” Logan heard Ororo gulp in a shaky breath at his admission and claw at his shirt collar, burying his face in it. “I never wanted this ta end like this,” he reasoned.
“But that didn’t stop you from ending it, did it?” She flung an accusing finger at Ororo. “Are you happy now? You won. You’ve got him now.”
“I win? Are you fucking kidding me?” Ororo railed back. “Is that what you think? That you’re giving him to me? I don’t know what’s been rolling through your head, but he’s not yours to give, Miss High and Flaming Mighty. That should’ve been obvious by now. From the moment you met me, you’ve done nothing but get your panties in a twist, hating on me from the jump! There was no need for you to take out all that pisstivity you felt toward Scott on everyone else, least of all Logan, just because he was with me!” Ororo shook her head as it dawned on her. “The day I compete for a man is the day I give them all up. Get over yourself.”
“That’s enough, ‘Ro,” Logan murmured, but Jean rose to the bait.
“Get over myself, she says! Oh, that’s rich! The little cook with the ego! The Soup Nazi’s more subtle! And more talented, I might add! The damned unagi’s too salty, Hot Pants, try using a pinch instead of a handful!”
“Oh no, she didn’t,” Ororo spat, batting away Logan’s hands when he tried to pull her back. “Like you can tell me how to cook. Can’t figure you’d have any taste buds left from all the booze.”
“Just as well. Look at the slop we’ve been saddled with eating for the past two months.”
“At least if you’ve been starving, that explains away why you can’t seem to concentrate on camera. I’ve seen better acting from a Christmas pageant full of five-year-olds.” Before Jean could sling another handful of dirt, all of them looked up toward the ceiling as they heard more groaning of beams overhead. The rumbling continued at a dull roar. Jean smothered a sobbing cry.
“I don’t wanna die!” she railed defiantly. “Not now. I won’t accept this.”
“Like any of us has a choice,” Ororo muttered.
“Shut up, just shut the hell up!” Jean shrieked.
“Jean…stop shouting…please.” Scott’s voice was halting and slurred. Jean had been clutching his Oakleys in her hand, protecting them from damage while she stayed by his side. His dark eyes were slightly unfocused as he cracked them open. “S’okay.”
“No. No, it’s not. We’re trapped,” she wailed.
“We’ll get out,” he assured her. “Don’t cry, Jean.” Her tears dripped onto his cheek and trickled into the corner of her mouth. “Everything…will be fine,” he winced, groaning at the pain in his skull. “Feels like gremlins are tap dancing on my brain.”
“Tap dancing, huh?” she whispered weakly. Logan managed a faint smile despite himself.
“Hurts,” he replied.
“I bet. I’m sorry, baby.”
“Don’t worry about me, Jean.”
“I can’t help it. I need you.” She bent down and kissed his cheek as gently as she could manage. “I need you so much.”
“I know that. Jean?”
“Yes, Scott?”
“Do you want me anymore?” She began shaking violently at his words. She couldn’t face him until he demanded her full attention. “Look at me. Please.”
“Scott…I ““
“Do you want me anymore? Don’t tell me about need. We’ve been over your needs for a long time. This isn’t about need.” His voice was hoarse.
“Save your strength. We don’t have to talk about this.”
“No? Then when?”
“Fine, then. I don’t think we have to talk about this.”
“I do. Hear me out. It’s been too many years that we haven’t really talked. No more games. No more hiding. This is me, talking to you, Jean. No lawyers, no shrinks, no family in the way.” She finally let her eyes drift up to meet his. She nodded in agreement, surprising Logan and Ororo both.
“Talk,” she croaked.
“I could have left. I could have left a long, long time ago. D’you know why I stayed, Jean?” Mutely she shook her head, and it hurt to realize that it was true. “I was in love. I was in love with you, Jean. Loved you so much. You were in my system from the day we met. It hurt me when you just played games. It hurt when you didn’t see what that was doing to me. Why wasn’t I enough, Jean?”
“Let’s not talk about this…I can’t…”
“You can. And you will listen to me.”
“Listen to him, Jeannie. It’s the least ya can do.”
“Butt out, Logan!”
“Can’t. Summers is right. We’ve all played enough games. That includes me. Summers?”
“What, Logan?”
“I’m so friggin’ sorry, bub.”
“No shit. Really? Well, that just solved everything, didn’t it? Are you putting on a show for your little girlfriend?” Scott’s eyes swung to focus on Ororo. “Are you sure you want this fucker? He tore my family apart.”
“He had help,” Ororo murmured. “You and Jean took part in it. If he did anything wrong at first, it was because you didn’t know. But if you watched him dick you over for four years, Scott, without saying anything, then you let it happen. And Scott?” His expression was miserable and mingled with pain.
“What?”
“Don’t call my boyfriend a fucker.” Silently she fumed, I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that.
“Fine,” he grumbled, then moaned as he tried to find more comfortable positions on the floor. His shoulder throbbed, and he felt Jean’s hand lightly press against his chest.
“Don’t. Stay still.” Jean removed her lightweight sweater, ignoring the chill in the air from the cracked windows. She spread it over Scott, doing her best to keep him warm.
“Thanks.”
“Sure. Sure.” He freed his hand from beneath the sweater and reached for her hand. She was surprised as how good his grip felt. “You’ve always taken care of me,” she assured him.
“That’s all I ever wanted to do, if you’d let me. It was always such a game with you. No matter what I did, I couldn’t make you happy.” His eyes nearly broke her heart.
“I…maybe I was just unhappy. Maybe it wasn’t just you. I thought you did make me happy, in the beginning.” She swallowed around a huge lump in her throat. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“I wish you would have tried. Guess it’s the pot calling the kettle black, Jeannie. I couldn’t help myself either, after a while.”
“Why Maddie?”
“You know why. C’mon, Jeannie, d’you even have to ask? She looked like you. She even tasted like you. She told me she loved me, and wanted to please me. She wanted to look after my needs, instead of always asking me what I could do for her. When she cried my name…”
“I don’t want to hear this!”
“Neither do I,” Ororo muttered.
“It was like someone gave me back the marriage I wanted in the first place. It was like my wife still loved me back. Still wanted to make me happy.” This time Scott’s eyes filled. “Still wanted to have a family with me.”
“Don’t do this, Scott,” she begged him.
“I have to. Nate…he’s not just my nephew.”
“I know. Nice to hear you finally admit it.” She sighed heavily, but she never quite stopped trembling. “He’s my stepson.”
“He’s your nephew,” Scott argued. “That won’t change. I can’t be more to him than his uncle. I wouldn’t hurt Alex that way.”
“You already have. That was some little scene a little while ago. He looked about ready to take out a hit on us both.”
“Did you ever sleep with-“
“No. For all of a minute, once, I waved it under his nose, but he wasn’t buying it.”
“Great. That’s…great.” He wanted to harden himself against her, but he was too tired. And she looked miserable. Sad, broken, and still so beautiful and vulnerable to him.
“I wish things could have been different.”
“They can’t be?”
“We’ve already filed.”
“Scott…I still love you. What I did was wrong.”
“You destroyed me.”
“Nothing can destroy you. That’s what I love about you. Do you hear me? I love that about you, present tense. I never stopped.”
“Then why all the drama?”
“I majored in theater, Scott. What did you expect?” Ororo muffled a snort of laughter into Logan’s flannel shirt. He pinched her, but smiled into her dusty hair.
“I can’t just clean up your messes, Jean. I want a wife, not just someone who takes from me without giving anything in return.”
“I want my husband back. I want the man I love to love me, and not take what he needs from someone else. I’m one of a kind, Scott; don’t let the familiar looks fool you.”
“That was all you had to say,” he grated out. “That was all you ever had to say. Thousands of dollars of therapy, years of excuses, and it all could have been avoided if you’d just said what we both needed to hear.” His grip was limp, but he drew Jean’s hand to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes at the taste of her skin. It had been so long. She felt so soft and good.
“Then I’ll say it now. Don’t leave me. I’m lost without you. I love you, Scott. I want to stay married to you. I don’t want a divorce.”
“I want my wife back,” Scott announced. “My real wife. This marriage has two people in it, if you want it to work.” He turned his eyes toward Logan. “You hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” His arms tightened around Ororo possessively. “Y’ain’t gotta tell me twice, Summers.”
“Good.”
Voices and footsteps were audible below them. “HELP!” Ororo shouted, hoping someone could hear them. “We’re up here, we’ve got a man hurt!” The voices didn’t seem to change or answer them. Jean rose shakily to her feet.
“I’ve gotta get down there. I’ll try to take the stairs.”
“Jeannie, don’t! The ceiling’s not stable, just stay put!”
“I want OUT! I want my husband out of here!” She ran, heedless of the unstable floor and rubble. Her foot lodged in a pile of crumbled plaster and broken beams, and she fell, twisting her ankle. “Oooowww!”
“Jean, are you all right?” Scott struggled to right himself, craning his head to check on his wife. “Shit,” he hissed.
“Summers?” Logan’s voice was heavy with worry.
“Don’t…feel…so good.” All four of them froze where they were as the tremors began again. The building shifted and shook, and Ororo felt like she was sitting on a railroad track in the path of an oncoming train. Bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling, speckling Jean’s red hair.
“Jean…I don’t think you’re safe there,” Ororo murmured. She was still petrified, hating the closed in space.
“Summers, answer me,” Logan barked. He released Ororo to hobble over to Scott’s side. “Ya okay, bub?” Scott’s eyes rolled shut. “Shit!” Jean struggled where she sat, gingerly prodding her leg.
“Hurts,” she whined.
“Jean, get up! Come over here against the wall with me, please,” Ororo ordered.
“I’m stuck, my foot’s stuck!” The building stopped shaking for a few seconds, then began again, more insistently this time.
“Jean…NO!” The ceiling continued to rain rubble and plaster perilously close to Jean as she struggled to get loose. Logan wasn’t close enough…
Ororo dashed across the room and knocked Jean aside, clearing her out of the path of the rubble that threatened to crush her. The impact freed Jean’s foot but twisted her ankle; she felt it pop and cried out in pain from within Ororo’s protective embrace.
“Are you okay-“ The words didn’t make it all the way out of her mouth.
The floor collapsed beneath them.
“ROOOOOOO!”
~*~
Jean felt herself being rolled up the ramp and down the hallway of the hospital, which reeked of ammonia-based cleanser and that clinical smell she hated. She had lingered in the waiting room of the hospital during Madelyne’s labor with Nate, feeling uncomfortable in her surroundings and listening to the fetal monitor beep while her sister suffered the pains of childbirth. She couldn’t handle it then. Things change, she decided.
Scott disappeared from sight as she was wheeled out first; she heard the wheels of his gurney depart and roll farther away. “Don’t take him away!” she cried.
“Your husband needs an MRI. We’ll bring him right back as soon as we can,” the kindly female paramedic assured her. Jean could barely make out her name tag: Yuriko.
“He might need a CT scan, too; we need to take a look at that concussion he has, and make sure he didn’t have a skull fracture or any hemhorrhaging.”
“Oooohhh!” Jean moaned. That wasn’t the same reassurance they’d given her on the ride over. She needed Scott. Even Logan was gone. She was all alone. She rolled to side and sobbed into her pillow. Yuriko strode beside her, guiding her IV pole and speaking soothing words.
“We’ll take good care of him, Mrs. Summers.”
“Thank you,” she whimpered weakly. “Thank you.”
Logan sat in the exam room in the E/R, waiting impatiently for some word on Ororo. He cradled his head in his hands as he listened to the ongoing roar of commotion in the corridor. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, but he guessed it was at least an hour. Ororo hadn’t been brought back from her MRI, X-rays or CT scan. Watching the nurses poke and prod and adjust her and hook her up to more equipment made him agitated, and the looks of understanding and pity on their faces didn’t help a damned bit.
“Please, God. I need her. I need her so bad.”
In the midst of his worry, a weight seemed to lift off his chest. He was here, where he needed to be. Not overseas, miles away from the woman he loved, fighting the good fight. Ororo was in good hands. With him there, she wasn’t alone. He was going at least a little nuts; he could have sworn Mariko whispered something to him.
“Relax, Logan-sama. She won’t join me tonight. I promise.” A pause, and then, “She loves you, too.”
“How d’you know that, darlin’?”
“She told me. It’s all she can talk about. The only way she’s leaving is if she’s pried away.”
A few minutes, Logan woke from his doze with a start, feeling completely disoriented. “Where is she? Please tell me where Ororo is!” a familiar male voice implored. A warm, lean hand gripped Logan’s shoulder and lightly shook him.
“They ain’t brought her back yet?” Logan’s mouth tasted like dust. “She was supposed ta be back by now.” Logan squinted up at Kurt Wagner, picking up on his distress. “I came in with her.”
“Why was she all the way across town?” Kurt prodded.
“She came after me. I told her not to go,” Logan began, but felt himself choking up. He passed his hand over his eyes to center himself.
“It’s all right. You didn’t know she’d follow you,” Kurt soothed.
“I didn’t wanna leave her,” Logan groaned. “Wanted…ta take care of her.” His voice broke.
“It’s all right, man, no one’s blaming you. Don’t blame yourself.” Kurt patted him gruffly and reached for the box of paper-thin tissues. “She’ll be okay. ‘Ro’s tough, have faith in her. We’ll be praying for her.” Kurt was a man who believed faith could move a mountain. “We won’t leave her.”
“We won’t leave her,” Logan repeated.
Down the hall, Jean was having her leg splinted after they gave her a pain injection that could tranquilize a horse. Her eyes swam with exhaustion and more tears. Scott was finally back, but was unconscious. She was sitting upright on a cardiac recliner that they wheeled into their private suite with her foot propped up. Scott’s blood pressure monitor hissed and hummed, providing welcome background noise. A light knock preceded the entry of Alex Summers, carrying Nate on his hip.
“Hey,” he greeted, right before panic filled his blue eyes.
“Daddy, what’s wrong with Unca Scott?” Nate’s little voice sounded frightened.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought him here,” Jean suggested blandly, but there was no malice in her voice. “Not a great place for the little guy.”
“He was afraid for you. For both of you. I’ll take him back out with Maddie.”
“Is she okay?” Jean asked dutifully. Dread seized her heart. She hated Madelyne, but she couldn’t wish her harm. Not yet. The fear written across Nate and Alex’s faces was almost too much to bear.
“She’s fine. A little banged up, but she’ll be just fine. She asked about you, Jeannie.”
“Fine. Fine.” Alex drew near, lowering Nate for a moment.
“Give Aunt Jeannie a kiss, buddy.” He obliged. His little mouth felt puckery and soft against her bruised cheek.
“Love you, Aunt Jeannie.”
“Love you too, little man,” she murmured, fighting back more tears.
Alex left, then came back a half an hour later, empty handed. “Scott’s still not awake?”
“They gave him some pain killers. He’ll be out for a while. He’s breathing peacefully; he’s comfortable.” Jean’s hospital tray remained untouched, except for an empty packet of saltine crackers and a half-drained cup of 7-Up. “If you want to kick his ass, stand in line,” she jibed.
“You need to take better care of yourself than that. Eat. If you don’t want that, I can bring you something back.” Jean’s finicky appetite was legendary.
“My stomach won’t hold anything down right now. I haven’t been able to for a while, Alex.”
“Maybe they can give you something for the stress.”
“No.” Her voice lowered. “It might hurt the baby.” Alex froze, and his hand tightened its grip on her shoulder.
“Holy shit,” he announced, then dropped bonelessly into a nearby chair. “You know how to drop a bombshell.”
“It’s what I do best.” She was unapologetic, but he didn’t mind.
“Scott’s going to be a father.”
“This time it’ll really be his. He’ll get to be a real dad, instead of just wishing he could be Nate’s.” She leveled him with a steady gaze. “I know about everything.”
“So do I.” Alex ran his hand down the back of his neck in an accepting gesture. “He’s mine. In all the ways that count, he’s my son. Until Maddie says otherwise, she’s my wife.”
“She can’t have my husband. Not anymore.”
“You’re claiming him? For good? No more games? No more fooling around?”
“I was blind for too long, Alex, but so were you.” Her hand lightly covered his and stroked it. “We hurt you, and Nate, for far too long. You didn’t deserve that.”
“No. We didn’t. I love Nate, d’you hear me? I love that little boy…so damned much, Jean. You and my brother won’t take him away from me. He’s all I’ve ever had!”
“Not anymore!” She beckoned to him, holding her arms wide open. “I’m sorry, Alex. So sorry,” she cried. He needed no encouragement, and he eased himself next to her, falling gratefully into her embrace. “No one’s taking anybody away from you. You’re the best thing Nate’s got. I’m still angry at Maddie.”
“I know.” That was as much as she would say. She refused to spill bile when he was already burning from so much pent-up pain. She rocked him as he clutched her back. “So am I, but I won’t let you hurt her. I can’t. I’m not built that way. She’s my wife.”
“I hope Scott feels the same way.”
“You know that deep down, he does. Give him time.” She stroked his fine blond hair with trembling hands. “Just give him time. And Jeannie?”
“Yeah?”
“Fire his damned therapist.”
Two days later:
“How’s our girl?” Hank rumbled into a tiny cellphone.
“Not much change today. It’s Kitty’s turn to come sit with her today, but I’ll pencil ya in fer later tonight,” Logan assured him. Two days of hospital food and the occasional takeout offerings from Kurt left his clothes hanging on him. Nothing tasted right, anyway. He had no appetite. His cheeks were coated in coarse whiskers, but Kurt managed to bring him a fresh change of clothes back from the bungalow.
“This is killing me, you know. I hate not seeing you two here on the set.” Hank paused for a moment, then told him “Both Peters say hi, and Jubilee says to hug you when I come in today.”
“Let’s not and say we did,” Logan grumbled. “But ya can hug her for me, ‘kay?”
“Deal.” They hung up amicably, and then Logan was left alone with his thoughts.
“Wake up, sweetheart. I wanna see those beautiful eyes of yers,” he murmured, taking her hand. She looked thin and was still pale, and Logan reached for a small bottle of lotion. He squirted out a dab to run over her chapped lips. She was well-hydrated by the line of saline, but it wasn’t the same as taking in fluids the old fashioned way. Her long hair was lank and tangled, despite his efforts with the packet of dry shampoo and a battered brush from his ditty bag.
Comas were a bitch.
Ororo’s doctor, Shiro Yoshida, M.D., assured him that sometimes comas were useful when the body needed to heal from trauma. “Her vitals are looking better. She took quite a fall, Mr. Howlett. It will take a while for her to recover, but she can hear you. Keep talking to her. Sometimes the patients enjoy that, even if they don’t seem responsive.”
And talk he did. He railed at her, begged her, prayed over her, cried to her. Joked with her. Read to her. Kissed her cheek, or her hand. Ran his fingers through her hair and told her he loved her more than air. Promised her the world on a silver platter if she’d only come back.
Kitty looked stricken when her eyes landed on him, leaning over Ororo’s body with so much yearning and pain on his face. “Damn. Logan. Are you all right?”
“No,” he grated out. “I need her, Pryde.”
“She’s not going anywhere yet. She needs you too, and here you are.” Kitty reached out to straighten the bedclothes. “Wake up, Ororo, we’re starving here! The backup caterers that Nova hired suck!” Logan chuckled as Kitty wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his grizzled cheek.
“Remind me to bring you one of Peter’s razors on my next trip.”
“Don’t bother. I ain’t got anyone ta impress just yet.”
“You will. Trust me, you will. She wouldn’t want to see you desperate like this.”
“Desperate’s all she’s seen of me, dontcha think? Between this mess with Jeannie, Scooter, ‘Ro and just tryin’ ta hold it together to wrap this friggin’ movie up, it ain’t like I’ve had time for anything but desperate. I’m dyin’, here, Pryde! I hate this damned place! I want ta just take her outta here! I wanna take Ororo HOME!”
“I know you do. Shit, Logan, do you know what it was like, getting that call from Jean of what happened to you two?” Kitty had dark circles under her eyes. “I haven’t slept. Not one wink more than you have, despite having a comfy bed in a hotel. C’mon. You need a break.”
“I ain’t leavin’ her.”
“You need some fresh air.”
“I’ll cope.” Then he remembered: Closed spaces. “She might need some, though. Kit-Kat, crack that window, why dontcha?”
“Sure.” She drew open the curtains and let in some much-needed daylight, sighing in relief. “It’s so dreary in here.”
“Don’t tell Allison that, or she’ll send more flowers,” Logan warned. “Place looks like a friggin’ florist’s.” Bouquets laddered their way across every flat surface in the room, along with weighted helium balloons in every shape and color. The scent of lavender fought with the institutional smell of the room; it was the national flower, and sprigs of it peeked out from almost every arrangement there. “Now we’ve got a little fresh air and light, darlin’, okay?” Logan murmured, taking Ororo’s hand again. Kitty sat on the opposite side of the bed and took her other one, stroking it lovingly.
“She’s great. We’re all crazy about her.”
“Me, too, but I’m biased.”
“Being in love will do that.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, shamelessly. “It will.”
A faint groan rose up from the hospital bed a few minutes later, after Kitty stepped out to use the rest room in the hall. Logan stirred from his chair at the sound after he dozed off.
“Mmmmm.”
“Whuzzat…mmmph. What time is it, Pryde?” Logan complained, rubbing his eyes with his free hands, cleaning away the gritty sleep left behind. He was knackered.
“Ooooh.” The bed creaked as its occupant shifted minutely. The noise shocked him into wakefulness.
“Pryde. PRYDE,” he called out. “NURSE!” He fumbled for the call button, scarcely believing it when Ororo’s lips twisted and smacked themselves. She winced, and her eyes cracked open, trying to focus.
“Unnnngh.”
“Don’t talk,” Logan begged. “Not yet. Just rest. It’s okay, baby, just stay right where you are.” Her eyes drifted around the room, trying to follow his voice. They gradually settled on him; he could tell her vision was still blurry. She stared at him, taking in his wan features and tousled hair. He was thoroughly rumpled and a sight for, literally, sore eyes.
“I love you,” he rasped. He felt the faintest squeeze of her hand, and she shut her eyes in approval when his lips brushed her forehead. He tenderly stroked her hair back from her face. “Love ya, baby. Come back t’me.”
Dr. Yoshida was checking her vitals and clucking over her moments later. That was the scene that Kitty walked in on when she returned.
“Omigod, what’d I miss! OhGodshe’sawakeohLOGAN!” He felt her hands grip his shoulders. “Oh, Thank God!”
“Thank you, God,” he rasped, absorbing her warmth as she fell all over him, hugging him so hard it hurt. Ororo watched the display with curious, calm eyes. Logan never let go of her hand.
“Welcome back, kiddo,” Dr. Yoshida beamed.
Back down the hall:
“You don’t have to keep fussing over me, Jean. I’ll be fine.”
“Your feet are cold. I’m putting on your socks. Here, have some juice.” She was solicitous and flapped over him like a hen. It was getting annoying, really.
He loved every minute of it.
Raven looked up from her magazine, clucking at the two of them. “The two of you sound like a grumpy old couple, nagging each other like that.”
“We might be, one of these days,” Scott considered.
“Spoken like someone who’s never had children. They love to drive you as close to a heart attack as humanly possible, every chance they get. I know my goddaughter will be a spitfire.”
“Could be a godson,” Scott reminded her.
“Not if there is a God. I need a little girl to spoil.” Raven already had visions of having a little red-haired toddler to bounce on her knee and play with, giving her manicures with Tinkerbell polish.
They’d settled into a routine, too. Raven stood sentry by Scott’s bedside, screening the couple’s visitors. She’d been Jean’s rock, keeping her spirits high and her appearance kempt and neat. When Madelyne had stopped by, it was Raven who informed her, “Out.”
“What?”
“Scott needs to be surrounded by people who love him, and the same goes for Jean.”
“But…”
“OUT. Did I stutter?” Raven was nonplussed. Madelyne walked away, looking thoroughly puzzled. Raven also tersely hung up the phone on Scott’s therapist, Emma Frost, who’d been calling Scott’s private line and cell phone once the nightly news ran the story of Blood Money’s film crew’s near brush with disaster in the devastating earthquake in Sapporo.
“Scott’s getting a sponge bath, all without your help, Emma dear. Go find some penises to hypnotize,” she suggested, then hung up. Jean’s ribs ached from laughter, which again, she would die for.
The afternoon continued on like that for a while. Jean fielded the call herself when Jenn Walters called from the firm to make sure she was all right, and that she received the paperwork she’d faxed over.
“I won’t need it just yet. I’ve also been wanting to look into some revisions to our prenuptial agreement. To make it less stringent.” To dissolve it.
“What are you going to do once the film wraps, Jean?” Raven inquired.
“I was considering taking a break. It’s not like I’m poor. Unhirable? Maybe. But not poor.”
“Honey…” Scott attempted to deflect the self-denigrating rant he sensed around the corner, reaching over to stroke her hair. She leaned into his caress.
“Independent films are where old ‘It Girls’ go to retire. There are some character roles I have been dying to take. And I need some time after the baby comes. I need to dry out, let’s admit it,” she shrugged.
“Don’t pull a publicity stunt of airing your rehab on TV,” Raven shuddered. “That’s so passé.”
“Not my thing. No wall-climbing for me. No goofy mission statements. Detox, the serenity prayer, group therapy, I’m there. Whatever it takes.” She glowed from beneath slightly green pallor, despite Raven’s careful work with her makeup. “Raven, pass me some saltines.”
…And back down the hall again:
“Most people have the common sense to stay away from the site of a natural disaster, not fly straight into the heart of it,” Ororo accused, eyeballing Ali sternly as she fiddled with her can of soda.
“Feh. When have you ever known me to do what I’m told? I miss my best mate.” She shot Kurt a warm look. “And my sweetie. No way could I stay on tour with you two abroad and cooped up in the hospital.” Her eyes glistened. “I almost lost you.”
“It’s okay.” She nodded to Logan. “He’s been taking great care of me. Everyone has,” she qualified. “This room’s been Grand Central. Every hour on the hour, someone comes through that door with food, flowers, or painkillers.”
“Shoot. Book me a bed, too!”
“It’ll get too crowded in here, kid. I got first dibs,” Logan growled, cradling Ororo’s hand in his grip and raising it to his lips.
“Keep it warm for me,” Allison tossed back.
“In yer dreams!” The two of them squabbled like siblings. Ororo watched their jabs at each other fly across the room like a ping-pong match.
“You’d better take good care of her. Don’t make me interrupt my tour again to come back here and kick your ass, Flintstone,” she warned, using the nickname she’d given him before he’d finally shaved and changed into decent clothes.
“Shit. Let you take care of her, and you’ll have her back in the karaoke bar, makin’ a scene.”
“Shit. How much of that did you see?”
“Every flamin’ minute.” His grin was wide and wicked.
“Kurt…you didn’t hear any of this.”
“Liebchen, I inevitably hear it all.” She snuggled up on his lap and sighed as he nibbled her ear. Ororo stared at them longingly, wishing it were her, sitting on Logan’s lap like that without a care in the world.
“Guys…why don’t you head on out to pick us up something?” Ororo nodded to her purse, which Ali had recovered from the hospital safe. She needed time with Logan. Awake, unchaperoned, and uninterrupted.
“Sounds good. After you, liebchen,” Kurt urged, steering Ali away, but not before she doubled back and kissed Ororo soundly on the cheek.
“Get well soon. I need my partner in crime back.” Ororo let them drift out the door, then sighed. She fidgeted with the bandage holding the IV tube in her arm; it itched abominably.
“What’s up, ‘Ro?”
“Us,” she declared.
“Yeah?” His hackles went up.
“Yeah.” She patted the edge of the hospital bed. The rails were down, and she nudged herself over, making room for him to sit. “C’mere.” He obliged her, and he actually laid down beside her carefully, resting his head on the pillow next to hers. They stared into each other’s eyes, and Ororo’s fingertips drifted over his cheek.
“What’s on yer mind?”
“You. Us. If there is an ‘us.’ I want there to be.”
“Yeah.” His mouth went dry. “Me, too.”
“I don’t want to be your rebound girl. This is a crappy time to talk about it, but there you have it.”
“Are ya kiddin’ me? Rebound, my ass!” His brows slammed down in disbelief and frustration. “Do ya know how hard it’s been, trying ta keep from losin’ ya, woman? Wishing and hoping that all that shit with Jeannie didn’t screw everything up?” He flattened her palm against his cheek, and his stubble rasped against her flesh as he encouraged her caress, leaning into it. “I hope it didn’t screw everything up.”
“No. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t afraid you still carried a torch for Miss Thang.” She was feeling generous…almost. “She’s not so bad.”
“When she’s sober,” he qualified. “And when’s she’s not dicking around poor Scooter.”
“Have you been to see them?”
“It’s too soon. And Raven kicked me out.” He shrugged. “No biggie.” Her smile warmed him.
“We’ve got a movie to wrap. I don’t want to keep you from work.”
“It ain’t like yer keepin’ me from anything. Hank and Petey are cleaning up the footage we took. Don’t make sense ta resume production when the director ain’t even all the way back on his feet, yet, and the leading lady has her leg in a cast.”
“Folks have to eat,” she prodded, feathering the corner of his mouth with her thumb.
“ Cassandra Nova can order everyone some pizza.”
“Geez.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought.
“Until then, yer stuck with me.”
“I’ll muddle through it somehow.” He stroked her arm easily, warming her with his touch.
“Ro?”
“Hmm?”
“I love ya so damned much. Come home with me.” He shocked her into silence for several moments that made his gut knot.
“I’ll be out of the hospital in another day or two,” she soothed.
“I mean ‘home,’ home. Back to my house, or yer condo. It don’t matter.”
“Logan…”
“Don’t say no yet.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Her fingers combed through his soft curls, and his arm locked itself around her waist. His breath tickled her lips, and she could practically drown in his eyes. “I love you, too. It feels like I know all of your secrets.”
“Can’t help that; they’ve been flapping in the press for weeks.”
“They haven’t scared me away. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, don’t you know that? Do you have any idea what you mean to me, Logan Howlett?”
“Tell me anyway, darlin’. I need ta hear it.”
“I love you silly, one hundred and fifty percent. Common sense be damned.” Her heart swelled as relief etched itself across his features.
“Thank God for a lack of common sense,” he growled, devouring her lips.
[Reviews - 42]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 1101 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
