Series: Seasons Change (vol.1)
Category: AU
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of the X-Men or any other Marvel characters that may or may not pop up in the course of this fic. There are several original characters introduced for the sake of the story, which are of my own creation, whose identities will be obviously apparent from trademarked entities belonging to Marvel. No offense is intended by the use of Marvel properties, and no $$ gleaned from this story. Just havin' some fun.
Feedback: Please, and thank you
Dedication: To Jasmine33 and NemesisBecoming (You guys know why)
A Summer of Sunsets
Chapter #2, "Always Something There to Remind Me", pt. 2
Southamptons Beach, Long Isl. NY
June 11th, 2004
Helena Duvahl waddled through the front foyer to the door, wiping her hands on her apron quickly before reaching out for the knob. “Good evening, Sir; please, come in.”
She stepped aside with a wide sweep of her hand, and the man nodded, stepping over the threshold. As he passed her, he removed his cap, and came to a stop a few feet inside the foyer. “Thank you, Helena. Are Charles and Erik about?”
She nodded, beginning to close the door, but a strong hand reached out from the other side, clasping its fingers around the door frame. Helena gasped quietly, turning back to the door. “Oh! Excuse me, Sir.”
The first man smiled to dissipate her embarrassment, and then turned to the younger man as he also removed his military-issue cap upon entering. “Ah, don’t worry about the lad, Helena. He’s quite alright, aren’t you Son?”
The younger man smiled down at Helena, giving her one of his most dashing grins before he unconsciously adjusted his AF suit beneath the dark trench coat that matched his father’s. “Aye, Sir.”
“Of course…May I take your coats?” She reached out as the older of the two gentlemen shrugged out of his.
The younger one waved a hand negatively. “No, thanks, Helena. I’m fine for now…”
“Mmm! Dinner smells lovely Helena.” The father turned his dazzling smile toward the woman, winking. “Watch it, or you’ll find yourself having to keep me out of those pots.”
The older woman smiled, chuckling like a school girl as she led the way toward the beachside patio, where most of the other guests had already gathered for cocktails. “Yes, Sir, Lt. General, sir..! Please, this way.”
As the distinguished AF officer tucked his cap in the crook of his arm and followed Helena, shamelessly flirting with the elderly woman, his son stepped behind them, but stopped as they were about to pass the wide staircase in the main foyer. Memories from years passed flooded his mind, as he recalled the summers he’d spent here, playing tag with a certain white-haired little playmate…
“Son? Are you coming?”
The young man snapped to attention, looking around to realize he’d slowed to a stop at the base of the double staircase. Although his feet almost carried him up to the steps, he willed himself to continue out onto the patio. “Right behind you, Dad…”
Upstairs, on the top floor…
Marie sat down in the vanity’s chair, trying with all her might not to mess the whimsically carefree hairdo ‘Ro had fashioned for her just minutes ago. Dressed down in a stark-white, long-sleeved cotton shirt opened at the neck and a straight-hemmed cargo skirt that reached her ankles (but with a drastic split on the right side), she was too cute for words. Every once in a while she’d admire herself in the mirror, only half listening to the full-blown panic of her older sister.
‘Ro moved around the spacious room like a whirlwind, half the time going nowhere in particular. Behind her, Elizabeth Braddock tried to keep up in her dark blue denim skort and twist-tie matching shirt, as she struggled to lace up the back of Ororo’s sundress. The 3 sisters were late to their own father’s party, having gone on a little too long in the “catching up” department. Normally, ‘Ro wouldn’t care at all to be “fashionably” late to such an informal occasion, and it didn’t take a telepath like Beth to figure there was more going on behind those sparkling blue eyes than their tardiness.
“’Beth, I can’t find my sandals. You know, the Via Spiga’s? Do you see my sandals? I know I brought them up here…”
With an exasperated sigh, the England native stopped in the middle of the room, watching ‘Ro hurry around with her dress still half-tied, her hair a royal mess and loose, and barefoot. She and Marie exchanged knowing glances before they cornered ‘Ro, forcing her to sit.
*Geez, all this an’ she doesn’t care if she ever sees the guy again??* Marie let her thoughts float over to Beth.
“I can hear that.” ‘Ro snapped, obeying as they forced her down into the vanity’s chair.
“What??” Marie brought over her sandals as ‘Beth quickly finished lacing the back of the sleeveless sky-blue and white sundress.
“It’s not that I ‘care’, per se.” Ro gathered her long tresses behind her so that Elizabeth could begin the elaborate French braid.
“You just want’tim to know what ‘es missing, luv.” Beth finished for her, as a statement, not a question.
Marie leaned against the vanity’s mirror, watching Ro’s face carefully. “Sugah, you’ll be fine. Just take a deep breath, an’ remember, you’re here t’have a good time.”
As Beth finished her hair and ‘Ro leaned forward to insert a pair of gold earrings resembling little bolts of lightning, she looked at her sisters’ reflections in the mirror as they stood behind her chair. Smiling at them both, she felt immediately comforted. “Thanks.”
When the 3 dazzling Xavier sisters had finally gotten themselves ready, they stood at the door to Ro’s room, all of them slightly giddy with the excitement the evening promised. Ororo stroked her trademarked thick wisp of loose hair away from her eyes. Closing her hand purse soundly around the thick bundle of letters, she nodded to her sisters. “Well, girls…I guess it’s time to go make an entrance.”
Downstairs, Outside on the Rear Deck…
Soft music drifted out to the chatting guests as they enjoyed the beauty of the approaching sunset and an unending supply of refreshments.
As the guests freely mingled, the difference between Xavier’s adopted children and those who’d only been his pupils at the Institute was not easily distinguished. To a certain extent, they were all family, and as Erik Lehnsherr brought his drink to his lips, he silently applauded his life-long friend on a job well done. Charles had made some costly sacrifices over the years for his ever-increasing family as well as for the Schools and other non-profit organizations he funded. ‘It would be a shame,’ Erik thought, ‘to see all of his work end up for nothing.’
At the sight of Charles rubbing his temples, Erik set his drink down immediately. “Charles, is everything alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Charles! Erik!”
Lehnsherr looked up then, to meet the jovial gaze of one of his oldest friends. “Christopher. Glad you could make it.”
Charles turned his chair a little, and rolled closer to the two men as they greeted each other. “You’re looking well, Christopher. Or should I call you, General Summers?”
The Lt. General’s smile brought his heavy moustache up over his lip, and as he graciously accepted a shaken martini from the bartender nearby, took a quick sip before answering, “Oh! Not quite yet, I’m afraid. The promotion isn’t official until August.”
Charles smiled back. “Excellent. I hope you’ll be able to return for the Reunion celebration. We’ll have quite a bit to celebrate, then, won’t we?”
Christopher’s dark brown eyes held Charles’ for a long moment, then he set his glass down, the smile gone, as he spoke in hushed tones. “Charles. How are you? Are you doing alright?”
The Prof. smiled, a little wistfully, as he caught sight of his son Henry and former student Robert Drake joking around next to the hors d’oeuvres table. For a moment he didn’t say anything, evidently choosing his next words carefully. “Chris, I’m happy to be here for this. I have my friends and family so close…What man could not be joyous at a time like this?”
The Lt. General laid a hand on Charles’ shoulder, speaking quietly, “That’s good, Charles, that’s good. And how are the kids taking It?”
Erik took a step closer, addressing Christopher. “Most of them know of Charles’ illness, and they’ve all agreed to do whatever they can to help and support him.”
The Lt. General’s dusky eyebrows came up slowly, as he looked down at Charles again. “’Most’ of them know?? Charles, who haven’t you told about y”“
“Hey ya’ll! Let the party begin!”
Heads turned toward the deck’s door as the 3 Xavier Sisters made an impressive entrance. Marie, the youngest of the three, spread her arms wide as she made her presence known. ‘Beth and ‘Ro, flanking her, let their young sister command the attention of the guests. Elizabeth hid a chuckle behind her fingers while Ororo groaned beneath her breath, looking just slightly uncomfortable.
Greetings were exchanged, as the women joined their brothers Henry, Kurt, Lucas and Brian along with the rest of the Xavier Institute grads.
“Mein Gott, Ororo, you’re looking good!” Kurt bowed dramatically before his sister, who he hadn’t seen in some time, and for his compliment received a peck on the cheek.
“Vielen Dank Bruder,” she replied in near-flawless German.
“Took you guys long enough, didn’t it?” Bobby chided, and received a ‘playful’ swat from Marie. The others laughed merrily as they continued to snack, conversations resuming around the typical subjects of politics, entertainment, and who’s-with-whom these days.
Caught up in the conversations around her, Ororo didn’t notice the two figures sitting away from the group, one of them all but hidden by one of the large deck canopies that shaded the table. He sat back languidly, stirring a rum n’ Coke that he hadn’t sipped from since he’d gotten it, and doing his level best to appear interested in the mundane conversation Peter Rasputin was trying to interest him in.
As the elegant young woman gracefully accepted compliments from her siblings and friends, floating from group to group like the perfect hostess her father taught her to be, he watched; the approaching evening’s cool breeze lifted the single wisp of loose hair she allowed, caressing the curl out of the end only to wave it back after the wind had left her. The sleeveless sundress was quite flattering to her slim but curvy figure, and as she suddenly raised her right hand to cover a laugh, he smiled behind his red-tinted glasses, catching a glimpse of the tribal tattoo on her upper arm. He remembered the day she’d gotten it, in some rebellious teenage hope that it was going to upset Charles. They’d both been shocked and surprised when Ororo’s dad had rolled up his sleeve to show them the only slightly faded tatt on his bicep; a spur-of-the-moment decision during his National Guard Reserve days…
“’Cuse me, Pete.”
The young Russian trailed off in mid sentence as his comrade abandoned both his drink and their conversation. As Peter noticed the soldier’s beeline for Ororo, he smiled with a sort of sad and helpless expression. [Here we go...]*
Marie caught sight of him before ‘Ro, but was too far away to alert her sister verbally without causing a scene. Quickly, she closed her eyes tightly, grasping Beth’s uncovered wrist for the split second it took to telepathically send the message. *Jerk at 3 o’clock!*
Even as Ororo heard the echoed call reverberate from Marie through ‘Beth, she felt a presence close to her back, and turned her head slightly, but not enough to look him in his ruby-quartz tinted eyes.
“Hello there, Ororo.”
Her stomach flipped at his low, purposeful greeting, but she refused even a smile. Turning fully to gaze up at him, she nodded politely replying, “Hello, Scott.”
Across the patio, Lt. General Christopher Summers nodded appreciatively toward his son and Xavier’s daughter. “Charles, I must say, you’ve raised a fine daughter there. Ororo’s become quite the young woman.”
“Thank you, Christopher…” Charles smiled tightly, trying not to show his deliberate attempt to rebuff the waves of emotions and psychic ‘cold shoulder’ rolling off of his daughter.
Opposite the three older gents, Marie and Elizabeth leaned against the wall, sipping their drinks but completely shameless in watching what they both hoped would be Scott Summers making a complete ass of himself.
*Oh, just look at him…! All smug an’ shit…like she came back here f’his ass.* Marie sniffed, using her sister’s close physical proximity to telepathically convey her thoughts.
Elizabeth shook her head as Scott stepped a little closer to Ororo, displaying his genetic, trademarked dazzling smile. *Can ye really blame th’ bloke for trying, Marie? Scott knows he fück’d up.*
The southern sister huffed, picking up her third drink. *Damned straight, he did. Ah just hope ‘Ro sticks to her guns, an’ tells ‘im where he can stick it.*
Despite being in the middle of the moment she’d feared would come since the beginning of summer, Ororo wasn’t so much aware of Scott laying on his charm as she was the subtle”and not so subtle, as she caught sight of Marie burning holes in his back”attention they were getting from some of the others. Unfortunately, she knew, the on-again-off-again, troubled ‘relationship’ between her and one of the AF’s most decorated pilots was hardly a secret anymore. It seemed pretty much everyone from her brothers and sisters to her former classmates had gotten wind of what had (and hadn’t) happened between the two.
As Ororo took note of the noticeably quieter conversations around them, she had to admit even her father had probably heard rumors about it.
“Is that all you have to say to me, ‘Ro? We haven’t seen each other in almost three years, and that’s it?” Scott seemed to think her cool demeanor was humorous.
The playful twinkle behind those shades only raised her ire, but Ororo was determined not to let it show. She knew a thing or two, after all, about suppressing emotions. Finally smiling graciously, she replied, “I’m sorry, Scott, of course. How’s the Air Force? I hear your dad’s getting promoted to full General.”
His own smile faltered just barely, as she did a marvelous job of switching the subject off of them. Pausing before answering, Scott couldn’t tell if she was just being polite or if there was something more sinister going on behind those startling blue eyes. Playing along for a moment, he came back, “Yeah, yeah…Can you believe it? A full General. Of course, you would’ve known that, if you’d responded to any of my letters”“
“Oh! And look at you! A Captain now. When did that happen? I’m sure your father must be so proud. Have you told my dad yet? I’m sure he’d love to hear about it.”
“Ororo…” he took her by the elbow gently, a determined look in his eyes. “Enough of this. We need to talk.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“You know what I m”“
“Everyone, if you’ll please; dinner will be served momentarily in the dining hall.” Helena stood at the threshold to the deck, smiling pleasantly.
“Great, Grub!” Bobby nearly bounced toward the door; evidently the alcohol and hors d’oeuvres hadn’t done a thing for his appetite.
His excitement elicited several chuckles, and as they all headed toward the interior of the house and to the dining hall Marie and Elizabeth suddenly appeared by Ro’s sides, taking each of her arms. Scott was forced to take a step back or come in skin-to-skin contact with Marie, who seemed to have intentionally taken off her glove and rolled her long-sleeved shirt up on the arm now closest to him.
Grabbing Ro’s purse, the young saucy southerner casually flipped it open, and as they departed, shoved the bundle of unopened letters at Scott’s chest. Dragging her shocked sister away, Marie called behind her, “Ah think those are yers.”
Stunned for a few moments, Scott Summers stood there on the dim patio deck, holding the package in his hands. Unbothered, he casually placed them on the inside coat pocket of his uniform, and with a slight grin, headed inside. If Marie thought she was gonna get rid of him that easily, she and her elusive sister had another thing coming.
At That Moment, 4 mi. Down the Beach at What Used to be the Howlett Estate…
The quieted beach house was painted with the strong shadows and colors of Sunset, as Col. Howlett moved among the rooms like a specter. He still didn’t seem to notice or care about the mess around him, as he walked from room to room as if searching for something.
Downstairs, he combed over the two family rooms, numbly sifting through the old toys and books scattered”broken”all around the room. After a few minutes search and he was satisfied what he sought was not there, he moved to the living room, the 3 downstairs guest rooms, and so on and on…
His weary yet acute gaze fell over every crack and crevice, until he finally found himself outside one of the upstairs bedrooms. It was the only door of the house that had remained unopened for the 6 months he’d stationed himself here.
It was only now that he hesitated. He now knew without doubt what he sought had to be in that room, so why couldn’t he just open the damned door and get it?? ‘What the Hell’s the matter wit’ you?’ He berated himself, and it was enough to get his legs to take one step closer, his hand lifted to the cool metal of the door knob.
But that was as far as he would get.
An abrupt, chilled sensation skittered down his spine, and a peculiar tightness erupted in his chest. The rapid heartbeat that followed was enough to make him stumble back a step. Holding his trembling palms before him, Logan peered at them with puzzlement mixed generously with irritation.
Angrily, he grabbed the doorknob again, but when the feeling returned ten-fold, sending pulsing beats of pain coursing through his temples, he gave up with an irritated growl, and stormed down the stairs. Upon reaching the ground floor, he took one quick, sweeping glare around the house before he burst out of the back porch door, and headed down the slight incline toward the beach…
Back at the Xavier Estate…
While the rest of his guests were seating themselves and engaging in light, playful banter, Charles Xavier quickly and quietly allowed Erik to push him into his downstairs study, where the formidable Master of Magnetism closed the door soundly behind them.
“Charles, are you alright? It looks worse this time.” He half-turned to regard his friend with worried eyes as he sifted through Charles’ desk, pulling out small orange containers marked with Rx.
Xavier nodded just briefly, wiping his brow with a kerchief despite the fact it was a cool 67 degrees out. “I’ll be fine, Erik. Please, let’s get back before my absence is noticeable…”
Erik lined up the eight prescriptions and a syringe with a clear glass bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk, and grabbed the first container of pills to pop open. “Alright.”
In the Dining Hall, Ororo shifted uncomfortably in her chair under Scott’s visual scrutiny, as he’d placed himself directly across from her at the long table. Even with his ruby-quartz shades, she could always feel his attentiveness, and tonight, of all nights, it became unbearably smothering.
“Excuse me…” she muttered, pushing her seat back (and almost colliding with one of the servers) from the table.
“Ro? Where’re ya goin, Sugah?” Marie looked up at her with concern.
“I’ll be right back. Tell dad to start dinner without me.”
“Ro”“
“Marie, I’m fine. Trust me. I’ll be right back.” Quickly she escaped before the belle could get it in her head to come rushing after her. Ororo was more than equally assured when Scott stayed planted in his seat, although his eyes latched onto her until she disappeared around a corner.
Once she was sure no eyes could follow, ‘Ro let out a deep breath, and headed for one of the downstairs bathrooms to freshen up. Right then a good splash of water to the face sounded heavenly to her.
After that was taken care of, she headed back toward the dining room, but paused when she heard muffled noises from Charles’ study. Ororo would’ve passed on by without another thought had she not then heard what sounded like groans and someone choking on something.
Alarmed, she came back to the door, listened for a second more, and when the noises intensified briefly, she knocked, calling softly, “Dad? Is that you? Are you alright? Do you need help?”
“No, Ororo, we’re fine.” Erik’s voice called out from the other side, sounding distant.
She hesitated at his uncertain voice, then bit back what she was about to ask as she heard Charles’ voice, low and obviously full of pain. It was too muffled to discern words, but it was enough to thoroughly frighten her. “Dad?? Erik, I’m coming in…”
Ororo’s fingers gripped the doorknob, trying to open it, but it didn’t budge. She could tell it wasn’t locked since the knob actually turned, and the wooden part of the mahogany entrance wished to fold in, but went nowhere. As she shook the handle, she noticed the metal hinges on the door trembling just slightly, and she understood why the door wouldn’t open. “Erik? What are you doing??”
Inside, he kept an eye on the door as he quickly tied a rubber tourniquet around Charles’ upper arm. “Charles, don’t. It would be better to just let her stay outside…”
A loud series of knocks came at the door, and Xavier lifted his bleary eyes for a moment, uncertain. “Erik, how much longer do you think I can keep hiding…this?” he weakly waved a hand toward the bottles of medication, the syringe in Erik’s hand, and the plastic-lined wastebasket in his lap.
“Dad??” Ororo’s voice could be heard from the other side of the door, worry and fear strongly exuding from her tone. “Please, dad, are you okay? Why won’t you let me in?”
Erik turned away from the door and stood between it and Charles to block the Prof’s view of it. “Charles listen to me. Do you really want Ororo to find out like this?”
“Erik?? Please, just let me see he’s okay. Please?”
Charles’ head hung low, and he closed his tired eyes at the unmistakable sound of panic in her voice. When he looked back up at Erik, his friend could tell he’d made up his mind. “Open the door, Magnus.”
On the other side, Ororo leaned against the door, trying to get her heart to stop beating so hard. A motion behind the heavy door alerted her, and she stood straight as Erik appeared behind the now opened door. “Erik?” She questioned shakily, but he only pulled her inside and closed the door quickly.
Ororo stood rooted in place as she saw her father sitting near his desk, his usually bright and loving face now a pale, deathly pallor, and his hands visibly trembling as he cradled the wastebasket in his lap. “Dad? What’s wrong?? Do you need me to get Hank?”
Charles slowly shook his head, then motioned Erik closer. As Lehnsherr continued loading the syringe with the clear liquid, Ororo gasped at the sight of the bottles of medicine. When Charles weakly beckoned her over, she came without delay, kneeling beside his wheelchair and taking one of his clammy hands in hers. He tried to smile, but the effort seemed too much. “It’s alright, Ororo…Just…give me a-a moment.”
“I-I don’t understand…What’s happening to you?? What is all this?” She was confused, and afraid, and her eyes began to hurt with the onset of tears, but she blinked them back, trying to regain some calm.
Charles squeezed her hand, about to say something, but his lips went pale, and instead he lowered his head to the wastebasket. His thin body jerked with the effort, but only bile slid from his lips. After a couple more dry heaves, he nodded to Erik, who wiped his exposed arm with an alcohol-damp napkin, and stuck the long needle of the syringe in the bluish vein popping out of the inside of Charles’ elbow.
For a couple minutes, the trio sat there in silence, and as Ororo watched, she could visibly see her father’s natural color returning, the tremble leave his lips and fingers, and the glassy film lift from his eyes. Erik stood from where he’d been leaning against the edge of the wide, oak wood desk, and began cleaning up, replacing the medication Rx bottles and disposing of the used syringe.
Almost his normal self, Charles turned to look at ‘Ro, a genuine if not weak smile on his face. “I’m sorry, Ororo. These things happen when I don’t take my medication on time. It’s not as bad as it looks, though.”
Erik’s eyes lifted momentarily and he stared hard at Charles, but he kept quiet, continuing his clean up.
“Dad, what’s wrong? Why’re you taking so much medicine?” Ororo’s voice told Charles she was unconsciously steeling herself against bad news. He reached out and caressed her cheek, preparing his words carefully. He still wasn’t sure this was the best thing to do, but he couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer. “Ororo, I…”
“Dad. Please…you can tell me.”
Xavier licked his lips, then smiled grimly at his strong little girl. “I have The ‘Legacy’ Virus.”
Ororo blinked for about 30 seconds, then her brows furrowed, as if she didn’t understand what he’d just said. “W-What? You”You”“
“Henry diagnosed me; Moira confirmed it.”
“When..? How??”
Charles held her shaking fingers tightly, looking deeply into her eyes. “We’re not certain…Hank thinks as long as five years ago. We just caught it last March.”
Erik stood with his back to them, gazing forlornly out of the window behind the desk. As he watched the sun’s light slowly disappearing behind the horizon, a distant flash of lightning caught his attention from the west…
“W-Wait, you…you’ve known for over a year, and you haven’t said anything to us?? Why?” She looked at him in disbelief.
Sensing the increase of electromagnetic activity in her brain, he nonetheless continued, “Kurt, Brian, Lucas, Elizabeth; Hank, of course…They all know.”
“What??” Ororo pulled her hand away from him, the feeling of betrayal slowly creeping onto her face. “T-They know??”
Charles nodded, not oblivious to her mood change. There was no turning back now, however. He just hoped she’d come to understand why he did what he did. “Marie is still in school, and you”“
“You chose not to tell me?” Ro’s eyes narrowed, as she alternated her glare between him and a quiet Erik, who remained wordless at the window.
“For your own well-being, Ororo. Besides, this isn’t the sort of thing that’s easy for a father to have to tell his children”“
“You didn’t have much trouble telling the others. ‘I’m dying’. See? Two little words. Simple.” She stood abruptly, and a low rumble of thunder shook the walls.
“Don’t take that tone with him, Ororo.” Erik fixed her with an icy stare, as he half turned from the window. “You want to know why you’re the last to know? Take a look outside.”
“Erik, please…” Charles kept his voice low; he knew her words were borne more out of the sense of helplessness and abandonment that his daughter had struggled with all her life. It still hurt, but he could deal with her anger, as long as she understood.
Ignoring the rain that was now pelting the darkened window, she turned on Erik, her brow raised. “Oh. Now it’s my fault? Is that it, Erik? My father just”just told me he has a fatal disease, and, and”“
“Ororo wait”“ Charles reached out to her but she stepped away from him, shaking.
“No!”And”I mean, how the hell did you think I’d take it?? I mean, for god’s sake, TLV is incurable!”
“Ororo, please…I didn’t want you to find out like this.” Charles set the wastebasket down on the floor, turning his chair as she backed away toward the door.
But Ororo was already shaking her head, not listening. Angry at the tears that fought their way down her cheeks, angry at Charles and Erik for keeping something so important from her for so long, and for such a reason (logical as it may have seemed). Most of all, angry at herself for wanting to just lay her head down and cry in her father’s lap, and for feeling like the five year old girl orphaned in Cairo…
“Dad?? Ororo? Are you in there?” Hank’s voice could be heard over his knocks at the door. “It’s getting rather violent outside, is everything alright?”
‘Ro stood there, her eyes locked with Charles’. Slowly she shook her head, as he tried to reach out to her via their telepathic link, but she wasn’t having it. *Ororo, please…*
The static jumping around in her mind was enough of a natural buffer, she didn’t have to try to erect shields to keep him out. “I”I have to get out of here..!” Turning suddenly, she swung the door open, pushing past the group of guests that had gathered out in the hall.
“Ro?!” Henry called after her.
“Let me through!” She cried out angrily, shoving past the surprised faces.
“Sugah, what’s wrong??” Marie started after her, but Ro didn’t respond, hurrying down the hall.
“Ororo, wait!” Scott caught her by the arm, but she twisted out of his grip, continuing at a run toward the door.
“No; let her go.” All eyes turned to Charles, who’d wheeled through the doorway, his weary eyes pained. He took several deep breathes before repeating, “For now, just let her go.”
The Moment Ororo Hit the Porch, she was bombarded by the icy cold, pelting rain of her own making. She stumbled in the wet sand of the beach, as she strove to put as much distance as possible between herself and that House.
The intensity of the storm around her increased, as the pelting rain mixed with her salty tears. She left her expensive Via Spiga’s somewhere behind her, and as the 35 mph wind increased in strength, the delicate hairdo ‘Beth had fashioned was abused as well, until her hair whipped around her in long, free tendrils, as wild as the torrent surrounding her.
After a few moments of running, she called a powerful gust of wind behind her, and it pushed her up off the ground and into the sky, leaving the twinkling lights of the Xavier Estate behind.
(*) Translated from Russian
TBC in Chapter 3, “First Impressions”,pt.1
Spoiler: Ro & Lo meet for the first time! (sort of...)
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