When I cried for her, after she died, Forge, it wasn’t just that I lost her. I cried because Logan took her life so that I wouldn’t have to. He had another death on his head and more blood on his hands. And he loved her. It defied description, to love someone like that.
He’d wanted to follow her that afternoon and shake her, set her straight about his feelings.
His love for Jean could easily be described. Sudden. Gut-twisting. Exciting. Forbidden. All words he was familiar with after years of breaking the rules. Jean was the apple dangling from Eden’s tree, shining red and ripe, the stem giving under the weight of his fingers reaching for it. He’d paved his road to ruin, but Jean lit his path there.
Ororo’s love for Jean was pure and genuine, worthy of envy and humility to be its object. He saw it in the depths of those seemingly cool, detached eyes, just bubbling under the surface when she declared “You love her” that night in his room. She’d attempted to stop him, pleading with him to see reason…and to see her. He remembered the wiry, barely restrained strength in her lissome body as he gently, but firmly, moved her aside and swept out the door. He felt her frustration and defeat at his back and felt his hackles stiffen, hating what he was about to do. Hating to defy her, and to deny himself.
Feelings for the weather witch had sprouted at that moment and were nurtured every time they had a minute alone. And she was right, one hundred percent correct: He had taken Jean’s life not only to save her from herself, but to save Ororo from having to do the one thing she couldn’t live with, as well as to save her life. All of their lives, but selfishly, he admitted, the world would never be a place he wanted to spend the rest of his miserable years without Ororo. He didn’t know how many he had left.
For the moment, the only thing grounding him was her loft. His nightmares were full of screams again, but hers rose above the clamor, wounding him before he watched her fall from the sky. Helpless. He’d felt helpless and like someone tore out his heart.
He needed her scent. Her loft was infused with it; he caught a whiff of it when he’d made up the bed, the faint whiff rising up to greet him as he tucked in the sheets. He polished surfaces and mopped the hardwood floor until it gleamed. His stomach rolled at the smell of her blood staining her ruined clothing, and he threw them out, knowing she wouldn’t want them anymore. Strands of silken white hair wrapped themselves in fine skeins, nestled in the bristles of her hairbrush; he laid it in the drawer of her tiny bathroom before straightening it up. He wanted her to feel comfortable in familiar surroundings.
It would be a long time before anyone felt safe at the school again.
He’d kept his vigil in the infirmary for two days, leaving only to attend his classes and to retrieve meals for them both. She was a cranky patient, he marveled, pouting relentlessly over her weakened condition.
“Ya didn’t finish yer dinner,” Logan nagged her a little while ago, noting her meager efforts with the roast chicken and mashed potatoes, half of which still remained on the plate. “Yer gonna hurt Petey’s feelings, darlin’.”
“He knows I wouldn’t leave so much of a crumb if I had any appetite,” Ororo grumbled as she lowered the head of her bed a few inches and laid back, shoving away the tray. Logan sighed. She’d made remarkable improvement, thanks to rest and the very irritable nurse who tended to swear like a longshoreman and smelled like cigar smoke.
Logan always made her feel better. Soft looks from those intelligent hazel eyes that he didn’t often share with anyone else. That gentle touch from strong, warm hands whenever he solicitously helped her to get more comfortable, whether to bring a fresh blanket or to help her to stand. Earlier that evening she felt weak as a kitten, her legs nearly giving away as soon as the soles of her bare feet flattened against the cold floor. He caught her beneath the armpits and hauled her back against his chest. Like a limp noodle, she fumed. His solid firmness at her back and the warmth of his breath stirring her hair was soothing until she shook it off.
She hated showing him weakness. He didn’t say a word as he led her to the commode and gently shut the door after her. He was bereft at the loss of contact
Logan was tense. Every time she needed anything, he jumped. When she didn’t need anything, he toiled and pondered why.
“You don’t have to baby me,” she offered sullenly. Her fingers picked at the hem of the sheet as she studied him. Her body screamed otherwise: Stay. Be with me.
“Last time I checked, ya nearly died,” he pointed out sagely. “Besides, once yer up and around, darlin’, you’ll be runnin’ my ranch and puttin’ me ta work. For the moment, why don’tcha stay put?”
“I can put you to work now,” she offered. “I mean it, Logan. You should be upstairs with Henry and Piotr. I can manage.” The corners of his mouth tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, growling in his throat.
“Ro…maybe just once…I don’t know what ta say. Ya think ya can manage without me, is that it?” Panic leapt into her heart as he backed away from the bed, and she read hurt in his eyes.
“Logan…no. Please. Just understand me for a minute. I’m not used to needing someone to take care of me,” she admitted.
“Can’t ya get used to it for a little while til yer back in the saddle? ‘Ro…ya don’t know what it did ta me when ya got hurt. Ya don’t know…” His voice trailed off as he sat down heavily on the rolling chair beside the bed. He shut his eyes and mastered himself, but he felt the familiar roar of blood in his ears.
“I’m all right,” she assured him, but when he looked up and met her gaze, there was torment written on his face. His hands were balled into fists in his lap, and he confirmed her previous memory of waking up in the infirmary: He was trembling.
“Well, I ain’t all right, Ororo. Not one friggin’ bit. Hurts,” he informed her. “It hurts knowing ya almost left us, darlin’. Maybe the sun’ll still rise and set without me in the picture, but everything in his damned world, ‘Ro, in my world’ll stop if I lose you. If you leave me. Do ya get what I’m tryin’ ta say, darlin’? Don’t leave me.” The weight on his chest merely shifted, but he wouldn’t feel relief until she acknowledged his confession, whether she accepted it or not. “I couldn’t stand it if ya left me.”
It was like a dash of cold water. Everything came flooding back in a rush.
The sensation of being carried in his arms “ she knew they were his, and that it was his low, hoarse voice beckoning to her to wake up “ it nearly knocked the wind from her lungs. She heard his pleas when he lifted her out of the snow, reaching her while she drifted in the dark, and she knew he was her anchor. Just like he was now.
She couldn’t speak yet. Her lips couldn’t form the words, but her eyes spoke loud and clear, and tension was stiffening every muscle in his body as her fingers unsteadily reached out to graze his cheek.
“I need you,” he grated out. “Need ya so damned much.” It was almost impossible to get the words out. They lodged themselves around the lump in his throat, but he leaned into her touch, reaching up to stroke her hand and complete the caress. He shuddered and closed his eyes, and he felt her pulse jump, even feeling the thrum of her heart pounding in her chest.
“It hurt,” she murmured, and her voice was thick with emotion. “It hurt when you left me.” She didn’t say “us.” Her thumb lightly skimmed his cheek, barely dusting his dark, spiky lashes. “You don’t know how much. And I couldn’t tell you, because I knew why you had to go. I won’t keep you from unlocking what happened to you before you came to us. Charles wanted to do everything in his power and more to help you, Logan. I didn’t want to see you beating yourself to death chasing down your life and what you once knew of it. And when Jean ““ Her voice broke.
“Ororo…” Her words bit him and forced his own indiscretions back at him. He’d gone after Jean, even once he found out Scott was gone. Out of the picture, his conscience nagged. Mighty fuckin’ convenient, slick. He’d been willing to chase Jean even in her madness, and it sobered Logan and Ororo both. Look what he’d nearly given up.
“When you went after Jean…” Her jaw quivered, and he saw a sheen of tears that she wouldn’t let fall. “I couldn’t keep you here then, either, Logan…because you loved her. And I wouldn’t get in the way of you finding ha-happiness…” She tried to return her hand to her lap, but he wouldn’t let go of her. “Even if it wasn’t with me.”
“Even if…’Ro, that ain’t true.”
“You loved her,” she insisted with an emphatic shrug. “What was I supposed to do, chase you? I’ve gotten used to watching you walk away, Logan, so I wasn’t going to make you run.”
“Like hell,” he replied, and his brows beetled together, even though he didn’t raise his voice. “I wouldn’t have run if I knew.”
“I think you knew the day you kissed me goodbye.” He winced. She used the edge of her thumb to wipe away the hint of moisture that threatened to escape her eye. “I wanted to hold back, Logan. You made it hard.”
“What about now?” He adjusted the bed before she could protest and then seated himself on the edge. She felt the mattress sag beneath his weight, causing her body to shift closer to him so she felt his heat. He planted his hands on either side of her body to hold her captive. “How hard am I making it now, sweetheart?” She swallowed and tried to stare into her lap, but his breath feathered her cheek. “If I tell ya that I ain’t runnin’, that I wanna stay right here and that I ain’t gonna budge, will ya still hold back?” He nuzzled her, coaxing her to look at him, and her hand flew up to cover his lips to block more intimate contact. It didn’t work; he nibbled her fingertips, sending currents of sensation shivering up her arms and a flutter in her gut.
“Don’t do this now,” she hissed. “Don’t make me feel ““ Her chin was captured in his grip and the breath was kissed from her lips. The kiss was demanding and thorough; he nipped her lower lip’s lush fullness and suckled it until she opened for him. Her voice was a strangled moan of desire as they shared breath and heat. Her hands didn’t obey her commands not to touch him, instead fisting themselves in his shirt and cradling his cheek. His groan resonated through her, and she needed to hear him, see him, taste him, feel him so badly she’d die for it. Fingers curled and tangled in white hair and dark brown. She craved the feel of his flesh and cursed her weakened state as her nipples tingled for his touch. He satisfied what he could of her hunger and kissed her again and again, coming up for air only long enough to whisper her name and brush his lips over her eyelids, nose and the crowns of her cheekbones. Her eyes were glazed with passion for him, and he looked like he wanted to eat her up.
“There’s nothing I want more, ‘Ro, than ta make ya feel how I feel,” he admitted. His body had slumped against her once his arms wouldn’t hold him up, so caught up in the experience of holding her. He framed her face, reverently stroking it. Her eyes darkened to a deep sapphire and they were full of yearning.
“I can only tell you how I feel, Logan. It’s taken this long to do it, but we might not have tomorrow.”
“Don’t think about whether we have tomorrow, ‘Ro, because I don’t want that ta color whatever ya have ta say to me.”
“I loved you the moment I met you. As soon as I walked into Charles’ office and saw you barefoot and cocky, I loved you. It was hopeless. I was gone the moment you opened your mouth.” He looked incredulous, and he brushed her lips softly with his.
“Warts an’ all?”
“Warts and all,” she admitted, and a tear leaked out from the corner of her eye. This time he was the one who wiped it away.
“Damn it, ‘Ro, yer fuckin’ impossible,” he huffed. “And I’m a fuckin’ idiot.” Her smile faltered.
“So am I,” she cried. “Logan, you know how I feel now. What you do with that knowledge is up to you.” All the voices in her head cursed her as a fool for giving him a way out.
“Yer leavin’ it up ta me?”
“Yes.” Her sigh was heavy. “I am.” Please…
“I love ya so much it hurts. I can’t sleep, I hate it when ya leave a room, and I gave up tryin’ ta think straight the first time ya kissed me, darlin’. Damn it, ‘Ro, I love you! I need you!” Her arms were already drifting around his neck with his first sentence. His voice was ragged with need. She merely nodded before his lips crushed hers, proving to him that thinking was overrated. All he wanted to do was feel. His mouth trailed over her chin and jaw, painting her flesh with his hot breath before moving onto her throat. He traced her pulse with his lips, and her answering cry was full of need for him to never stop. He craved the feel of her hands against his skin, and she answered that silent call, easing them inside the flap of his shirt to roam and stroke his shoulders and chest.
He stared at her in confusion when she gently pushed him back, forcing him to catch his breath.
“Whatsamatter?” he huffed. He was still ruggedly handsome and more disheveled than she was used to seeing him; she almost laughed at his response.
“You’re needed upstairs,” she informed him, drawing his attention to the thrum of the intercom clicking on and the flashing red light on the console.
“Shit.”
“I know. I hate it,” she agreed. “I want to come upstairs tonight. Help me up after dinner. There are also some things I need to go over with Forge and Henry.” He bristled at the inventor’s name. She noticed his discomfort and laid her hand on his arm soothingly. “There’s nothing left between him and me, Logan.”
“Ya don’t hafta tell me twice.”
“Just know that I love you.”
“That ya can tell me all ya want, darlin’.” He eased himself to his feet with a sigh. One last caress of the back of his knuckles against her cheek, and he was off.
~0~
He couldn’t make Ororo love him.
The cold hard truth was staring him in the face, even as he made an adjustment to his holographic imaging device. He’d see what he wanted to see, just for a moment.
Music played softly in the background, a smooth, sultry ballad made for two people getting to know each other. The interior of the Danger Room was dimly lit, ambient “mood lighting” bathing a hardwood dance floor and heightening the nocturnal beauty of its occupants as they gave in to the song. Night club patrons circled the floor in swaying rhythms, and the programmed scent of alcohol tickled Forge’s nostrils, making it feel more authentic and breaking off another piece of his heart.
She was beautiful. If he closed his eyes “ and he couldn’t bear to close his eyes against the vision before him “ he could almost feel the kiss they’d shared, its heat licking up over him and leaving him shaken. He watched his own temerity as his hands roamed down her back to cradle her hips, feeling her soft curves through the silk of her dress.
He was completely out of his league. And now she hated him.
Once again, Logan wanted to kill him when he found him inside, until he drew close enough to see the man’s face. He looked broken. If there was one thing Logan could recognize, “broken” was it.
The inventor was seated on the floor in a relaxed sprawl, his elbows wrapped around his knees as he looked up at the image of himself and Ororo. They made a graceful, elegant pair that made Logan want to growl, but he, too, was entranced by the sight of Ororo looking serene and beautiful, contentment settling over her features as she leaned into his embrace and moved with him.
That could be him, if he let it. It nearly wasn’t. Realizing what he nearly threw away by waiting so long to let ‘Ro know how he felt slapped him in the face.
“Part of me wants to tell you that you could’ve knocked,” Forge said dryly.
“I live here,” Logan shrugged. “I’m headed up ta talk with Blue.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t wanna interrupt.” It was as far from the truth as the earth from the moon. He wanted to smash Forge’s device to bits and grind them beneath his foot, but the vision of Ororo still held him thrall. She was perfectly rendered; his sense battled with him that only her scent was missing.
“No. I’ve got a few things to do.” Understatement of the year. “Hank’s looking over the implant and the date that we harvested after we dismantled it.”
“So what’re ya doin’ down here?”
“Clearing my head and taking a breather. Reminding myself why I can’t really rest until I fix this.” He stood and brushed off phantom dust from his palms, and Logan heard the hollow click of the module being turned off. The Danger Room’s lights resumed their full brightness, and the music stopped. He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out toward the image of Ororo that was fading away to nothing. “I’m not a fool, despite popular opinion right now.”
“No shit?” Forge tucked the module into his pocket and leveled Logan with a somber yet steely gaze.
“You didn’t hide how you felt about her in the lab.”
“Didn’t see why I should’ve,” Logan shrugged, but he was annoyed that he was that transparent in front of Forge during the whole ordeal. He didn’t want an audience for what was easily the most agonizing day of his life.
“No. It’s good to make your feelings clear. Doesn’t leave any room for anyone else to get the wrong idea. It’s great,” Forge assured him, a dangerous gleam creeping into his black eyes. “Nice to see you decided to piss or get off the pot.”
“Wanna run that by me again?”
“She held back. She’s an amazing woman, but she doesn’t hide her feelings that well, either.”
She hid ‘em from me long enough…
“I ain’t gonna discuss this with you.”
“Fine. Just take a word of advice.”
“Whaddya think ya can tell me, bub? What am I supposed ta get from the guy that practically stabbed all of us in the back, not least of which was ‘Ro?”
“It hurts. Knowing you’ve disappointed her and watching that light die in her eyes. It’ll kill you a piece at a time. All you’re left with are the dreams and the memory of what it felt like to hold her, and then to lose her. See you upstairs.” He strode out, leaving Logan completely unsettled.
~0~
The most that any of them could do, Logan told them as the students were herded reluctantly to their rooms, was to live life and carry on with their normal routine. He’d let them know that their teachers would do everything they could to ensure their safety, but he hated the anxiousness he saw in their faces and the cautious hesitation in their steps. He’d spent enough of his own life looking over his shoulder. He didn’t want that for the kids. Piotr, Kitty and the upperclassmen were all on edge, wondering when the Prime units would come storming through the front door and who would be hurt next.
Erik was dutifully keeping his distance, remaining in the containment chamber while Lorna attended her classes and visited him whenever she was allowed. Erik recognized her shell-shocked look well, having seen it on the faces of everyone transported to the internment camp in his youth. Magda’s face continued to haunt him whenever he looked into Lorna’s, and he knew it was finally time. He had to tell her the truth.
He had to bide his time. He knew McCoy was making progress of Gyrich’s whereabouts, and he couldn’t afford to fly blind.
Lorna was slightly early as she returned downstairs with his afternoon meal. Her smile was shy as she set down the tray.
“I figured maybe they’d let you out, since you helped them out there,” she suggested. She leaned against the counter and picked at a torn fingernail that looked like she had bitten it.
“They were wise,” he mused. “I’m growing restless with their approach to this particular threat. We can’t continue to wait for them to attack us again, Lorna, when they can adapt to our powers each time they confront us. The next time we meet them could be the last time we draw breath. You don’t want that, do you? How does it feel, child?”
“How does what feel?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Being captive here, in this school where you thought you’d be safe?”
“But…I can leave, can’t I? You and I don’t have to stay here. But I like some of the other kids I’ve met. I…I feel like I fit in here, Erik, and I didn’t before with my parents.”
“They’re making both of us hide like rats,” he sniffed. “Life has more to offer you if you reach out and take it, Lorna. And your parents had no idea of the special young woman they tried to stifle and send away. They can’t appreciate you like I can.”
“Erik…why me? I know we can do some of the same things…” Her voice faltered, and she clutched her hair, tugging it back from her face. Her blue eyes beseeched him for answers. “What made you come and get me out? Is it just that I’m a mutant? Did…did you feel sorry for me?”
“No. I would never feel sorry for you, child. You’re much too strong and gifted, and you have so much to accomplish yet. I intend to guide you in what you need to do.”
“Guide me?”
“When you told me where the orphanage was where your parents took you from, I realized we didn’t just share the same abilities, Lorna. We share blood.” She straightened up and he heard the air she sucked into her lungs. “Lorna, I’m your father.”
“Y-you don’t mean that. You’re joking, right? Please, Erik, don’t lie to me,” she cried. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, hugging herself against the sudden chill in the chamber. “You can’t just come out of the blue and tell me something like this and expect me to believe…I mean, look, how often do two people just meet, and…and…” She clapped her palm over her mouth to stifle a keening wail.
“Lorna,” he crooned. “Believe me. It’s the truth. You look exactly like my wife, and like Anya would have looked if she had grown to adulthood, something that will eat at me until I die. My daughter was taken from me far too soon, and wrongly. I won’t suffer anyone taking you from me lightly. I lost track of Magda when she first left me; no one would tell me that they saw her. I think the village was hiding her location from me once they realized who I was, and what I could do.” She collapsed to her knees, bowing her face into her hands as she rocked and wept. Heaving sobs clawed their way out of her throat.
“You’re lying,” she insisted. “You’ve killed people!”
“Yet you followed me, Lorna. I feel that you knew who I was in the pit of your soul. There’s a connection between us, and I know you won’t desert me and walk away from your father.” Watery blue eyes pinned him.
“What do you want me to do?” she pleaded. “Just act like everything’s fine? You weren’t there,” she accused. “I was an outcast, and everyone hated me and called me a freak, and you weren’t there!”
“I couldn’t be, and I’m sorry. If I’d have known of you, I would have come for you, child! I swear it on my life. Give me a chance to make things right, Lorna.” He stood and approached the security field holding him inside. “Help me.”
“Why?” She wiped her eyes. “How?”
“I need you to be my eyes and ears.” She rose and drew closer to the cell, smoothing her clothing with her palms.
“I don’t get what you mean.”
“Upstairs. Tell me what your professor, Dr. McCoy, is doing to track the Prime units back to who’s sending them here. I know he’s close to finding out where they are; perhaps he even already knows. He means well, child. They all do at this school, but they will only tell you what they feel you need to know, since they think you’re merely a child.” She stiffened, and he felt a small thrill of triumph.
He had her.
“Okay.” She turned to leave until his voice stopped her.
“Lorna?”
“Yeah?” She wouldn’t use his name; it felt strange on her lips, and there were too many things to sort out.
“I know you’ll make me proud.”
~0~
“You’ve been burning the midnight oil.”
“Can’t sleep anyway, Blue.”
“Join the club.” Henry took a hearty gulp of his coffee and set it down on the spare side table, careful not to risk a spill as he examined the readings on the screen.
“We could have figured this out sooner, once we saw them retreat.”
“Not many of them made it off the school’s grounds.”
“We still should have tracked them. They have a GPS system to help them locate our home, no matter where they’re dispatched from, so it makes sense that they also have a homing device to bring them back.”
“Like a trail of breadcrumbs.”
“If you like.” Forge probed the circuits with a tiny pincer. “We didn’t dig deep enough before when we disabled the other units, because we were using Cerebro to trace the signal. The answer was right under our nose.” He leaned back, attempting to give Henry a better look at the tiny microchip, dormant due to the lack of a host and cut off from its network. He angled the light so that his bulk mane wouldn’t throw a shadow over the device.
“My stars and garters,” he murmured. “So we can find them. We can stop the signal.”
“No, Blue. We can follow it to the source.” Forge was grim, effectively squelching his enthusiasm. “They know where we are, thanks to Cerebro, and there’s no way to redirect that signal to simply make them take a detour. They’ll always find their way back. You’ll have to give them a taste of their own medicine and bring this to their front door. When you do, get ready for the fight of your lives.”
“A preemptive strike…” Henry leaned back in his chair. “I can’t argue the value of taking such a step, but keep in mind, Forge, if we do this, the school’s reputation “ and the X-Men’s in particular “ will be further blemished if we attack the National Security Council.”
“Gyrich isn’t ‘the Council.’ He’s a liability to Washington if he’s taking liberties with their intellectual property and technology.”
“If we take him out of the picture, they may deem him a martyr.”
“There’s always risk in war, Hank.”
“The X-Men don’t kill. It makes us no better than Magneto at the end of the day, and we couldn’t live with ourselves if that’s what we have to do to fight for our lives. But I can’t abide what Gyrich has done. He lied to innocent people to use them against us. Can I spare him? Yes, if I want to save my soul. Can I forgive him? Not a chance in hell.” He stretched, and Forge heard every joint pop in his massive frame, his leonine jaws gaping wide in a yawn. “Ororo will need to know everything you’ve told me. Don’t leave anything out.”
“She nearly died because of one of my inventions, and now we’re putting an attack on Prime on the table. Don’t let her go, Hank. She can’t fight this battle.”
“She’s already out of the corral, Forge. Don’t bother trying to shut the gate now.” He finished his drink, ignoring the hollow growling of his stomach. “But they’ll have to trample over my dead body before I let them get to her.” He nodded to the implant. “What next?”
“We tinker. We toil. We make something to allow us to access the chip and home in on Gyrich. Then we suit up and kick his ass.” Henry made a small sound of approval.
“Well said.”
“There’s one more thing that we haven’t considered yet. It might not be just one location where the Prime units are being dispatched. It could be several. They could be underground.” Forge put his tools back in their case. “Or they could be mobile.”
“I’ll help Piotr fuel the jet.”
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