To Dream Again (Second Time Around)

Author: Batman_Wolverine
Fandom(s): X-Men Movieverse
Genre: Romance, Drama, Humor, Action.
Pairing/Characters: RoLo, Jott and others (all inside)
Rating: PG15, T (for now)
Summary: Dreams...Everyone has them. She did too, once. But then…reality stepped in. Years later, he gave her new dreams. A new hope. But those too were taken away, as was he. What replaced it was duty….that and nightmares. What if she is given a chance to dream again. Will she want her old ones back or will she go in for new ones? Or will she even want any at all? (Please read the author’s note as this fic’s basic plotline is from one that I had written a while ago with an AU comicverse setting.)
Warnings (and Spoilers): X-Men 1 and maybe 2 and 3. Starting point is Pre-X-Men 1.

Author’s Note: Going in for a minor revision for posting on FF.Net (as with Secrets before it), I decided to go in for a completely new one….though not quite starting from scratch. This fic is set in an AU movieverse (as against the first try that was leaned towards the comicverse). All the characters are their usual mutant selves and given the new setting will be behaving differently than from ‘Dreams’.

The first story (Dreams) though started with much hopes has been wrapped up quickly (and rather lamely), all because I was giving up on the mainline Marvel Universe. Heck, I even used the villains from another fic of mine. Can’t get a more of a cop-out than that.

Please note that this is NOT a sequal, but a complete re-write on the same basic plot but with different characters and main story.

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the x-men character in any of the different Marvel universes (Cartoon, Comic or Movie). All owned and copyrighted by Marvel Comics.

---

01. Perchance to Dream…

“Hey darlin’.” His deep voice and large calloused hands running lightly over her naked body roused her from sleep, her body, even in its semi-unconscious state instantly reacting to his caresses.
“Hmm,” she moaned, her cerulean blue eyes opening to meet his deep hazy ones, her lips curving in greeting.
“What time is it?” she inquired, turning sideways to nuzzle against him, his soft chest hair tickling her nose, causing it to twitch. His body a veritable furnace, gave her a sense of safety, of being loved that she nothing…no one could give, at least not since her parents.

“Time for us ta get goin’,” he answered, the rumble of his growl going right through her. Running his hand through her hair, he lowered his head to kiss her smooth cheek lingering there to breathe in her scent. Fresh rain, sandalwood, earth… pheromonal. Always both calming and exciting him, it drove him wild to smell her like this, her own natural scent mixed with his cigars, sweat and leather. There was something very primal about it, something which cried out that she was his, just his…for now and forever.

‘Mine.’ The animal in him growled, both as a show of pride and as subconscious show of claim for anyone who might ever dare to take her from him.

“Stop doing that.” She smacked his chest, chiding his for his sniffing.

“Doin’ what?” His husky drawl brimmed with knowing amusement.

“This.” His chest swelling once again as he drew in yet another, a much deeper breath, she whacked him again, her hit carrying none of the force of someone wanting the other to cease their actions. “Stop smelling me.” First hand experience told her that he did it frequently, especially after a night like the one they’d just had. “I stink.”
“Nah darlin’, ya smell good.”
“Sure.” She (mildly) scoffed at his claim. “You only say this because you like smelling yourself on me,” this time she laid one out over his raised shoulder, her slender fingers grasping against the chorded muscles as feeling his fanged teeth graze along the curve of her neck.

Chuckling and marveling at how easy and how truthfully she reacted towards his…ministrations, he drew her closer, falling back on his back to pull her over him, her full young breasts rubbing against his muscled chest, their bodies in perfect fit with each others. “That so bad?” He tugged her tighter, taking another deep breath of their mixed scents.

“No. Not at all,” she choked out a whisper, still after all this time, unable to suppress the full body blush she got at his possessiveness.

He was unlike any man she had ever met. He was brutally rough, hardened by what life had thrown against him, his personality tempered to a no nonsense attitude. But at the same time, and only with her, he was as innocent and vulnerable as a child. That he opened that side of himself only to her, made her feel proud of her achievement.

--

“So where are we going today?” she finally asked more than hour later, her body still recovering from her latest orgasm. Thinking back to just a few minutes ago, she flushed at how wanton she had been, how carnal. She would have never thought of herself to be this….primal. Before this, before him, she hadn’t even known this side of herself, let alone explore it. Before she met him, her life had been all about today i.e. staying alive today and trying to repeat the same when tomorrow crawling came around.

But that was all before him…all before she found someone who mattered to her and more importantly someone she mattered to. Now, she looked forward to the dawn of each fresh new day and the coming of each love filled night. And the days weren’t all that bad either. Especially the ones like this.

“Grrr,” he growled his appreciation at the way she was snaking her hand through his sweaty chest hair, curling and uncurling her long fingers. “Wherever ya wanta go?”

“Hmm. North?” She suggested. “You did promise to take me there.”

“That I did darlin’ an’ one day I’ll take ya,” he responded, his voice slightly muffled by the silky curtain of her long flowing hair. “Just a few more days and then we’ll leave. We need ta have the money if we wanta get food and stuff ta last the whole winter up there.”
“Ummm…’kay,” she agreed, deliberately adopting a deep thinking ‘finger on the chin’ pose for her next query. “Just the two of us, huh? Whatever will we do? How will we ever pass those long…solitary…secluded…winter…months. Not to mention the cold.”

Catching onto her game, he went along with it. “Oh, I have a few plans ya might like,” he flashed a devilish grin, giving a slight jerk of the hips to accentuate his thoughts.

“Really!!” She mentally congratulated herself at being able to bite down the moan that his action generated. Winking at him, she ran a finger along his jaw. “Mind telling me about them? After all, I am the one who is going to be there.”

“It’d be better if I show ya,” he said, drawing her closer.

-----

“Is this normal?” Asked the man standing next to the bed. “She-She is smiling?!”

“Yes.” The second voice, a female one, belonged to the shorter woman standing on the other side, her telltale white robe giving away her medical (doctor) status. “Her vitals are normal. She is just…dreaming.”

“A happy one it seems.” The man supplied the addendum, hoping to get more information about the unconscious patient’s mental state.
“Yes.” He got none.

“When do we revive her?” He got directly to the point.
“Usually we don’t need to revive her. She comes out of it herself,” answered the woman, fixing her glassed to re-check the vitals again.

----

“Fuck!” He cursed as the air escaped from the truck’s left rear tire. They were getting close. There was no way out…for him. He could still try to save her. No. He ‘would’ save her, he had to save her. There would be not ‘try to’ shit. She was too pure, too innocent for them. They would destroy her.

Braking hard, he brought the truck to a halt, both of them not wasting one moment to leap out of it. Reaching for each other’s hands, they ran for the trees.

Once past the outer fringe, he he turned to her.

“Ya run darlin’, run fast an’ hide. I’ll take care of them,” his order carried more than a bit of a plea.
“No!” She shook her head adamantly. “We’ll do it together. We did it before and we will do it again.”
“Not this time babe,” his ears twitched at their closing enemies. “Not this time,” he pushed her away, further into the forest. “Run darlin’.”
“No,” she tried again, hoping against hope to convince him, her cheeks glistening at the tears flowing down them. “Please….”
“Yes!” He snarled before softening. “Fer me,” he whispered to her, brushing one escaped tear away, the other one rising to her waist. “Go.”

“Please don’t…”

“I’ll find ya.” He pulled her to him, literally mashing her lips his with hers. It was a silent but firm seal on his vow. “I promise,” he said giving her a small sad smile.

“You promise?” she echoed his words, her tears more uncontrolled than before.

Once again they leaned into each other. Their last kiss, his mind told him. The beast in him was crying blood, howling not the impending loss of his life but at the loss of its mate.

“Yes darlin’, I promise,” he growled softly at her mouth. “Now go,” he commanded once again, his heart breaking as he watched her draw away from him.

----

“What happened?” The man questioned, stepping out of the way to miss being pushed back by the doctor. “One minute she is smiling and the next she is sweating, tears flowing from her eyes?” He lifted a hand to the bed. “Now don’t tell me this is also normal.”

“It is,” normally pleasant, the woman’s rang true with raw tension, her sudden migraine growing stronger by the second.
.
“It is? It looks more like that she’s in pain,” the man frowned at his companion’s seemingly indifferent attitude. “We need to revive her immediately.”

“NO!” Came the sharp command. “She needs to ride this out on her own. Believe me it is completely normal,” she ended, placing a supportive hand on the patient’s arm, “I hope,” she added just to herself.

---

She could see everyone and everything from her vantage point high in the trees, but no one could see or sense her. No one except him for he could catch and track her smell from miles away.

But he was busy at the moment – busy fighting – not for himself, not for his freedom but for hers. Even through the red raze over it, her freedom and wellbeing shone clear in his bestial mind. Her deep blue eyes and long white hair, he would readily give his life for them and today did seem like a good day to die.

That thought brought a loud roar from him as he launched himself on the men hunting him…and maybe even her.

She observed silently, tears streaming down her face as he roared and attacked his attackers. He surprised them and managed to get quite a few, before the others recovered and started firing at him, his body becoming airborne as hundreds of bullets tore through him, their combined momentum lifting him off the ground.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to help him. Reaching out to grasp him she cried out to him…for him.

----

Her nightmare reaching a sudden end, she shot up her hand still grasping for him…at empty space, her haunted cry tearing through the soundproofed room.

“LOGAN!”

---

Note: In case you missed reading the author’s note at the beginning. This is an old fic of mine one that I wrote with an AU universe one leaning more towards the comic universe (but with a few hints from the movieverse). The original story though started with much hopes has been wrapped up quickly (and rather lamely), all because I was giving up on the mainline Marvel Universe.

Those who have reads the first take on this plot will find this chapter (a few upcoming ones) very similar to that story. Hopefully that won’t last for long.

Oh, and by the way, this time around I am basing this in an AU Movieverse. (Don’t even want to go near the comicverse now.)

Please Review!!

02. Past Participant

Summary: The story carries on forward and the X-Men get their mission…and their objective.

---

“Ororo….Ororo?!”

A hand in front of her face shading from the light, it took a few seconds for the hail to get through the haze in her mind. When she finally get her bearing, and thanks to the overhead lights being dimmed, she raised her head towards the man standing next to her. Dressed impeccably in a black suit, with his long black hair slicked back, was – Forge.

“Ororo,” he called again still not sure whether he was getting through to her. Concern was written clearly over his handsome face. “Are you alright?”

Her throat dry and constricted from her mental ordeal, the Nubian beauty limited her response to a slow nod of the head.

“Here, drink this?” The smooth familiar voice from the other side of the bed drew her to her, as a hand reached behind to caress her back, the other holding a Styrofoam cup up for her. “It’ll help.”

Jean Grey had seen enough of her friend’s nightmares to know how they ran. And even though she didn’t know how to solve them she did knew what to do to alleviate her condition…as much as was externally possible. As for her thoughts, Ororo’s need for privacy bordered on the obsessively closed, not that Jean would betray her trust by forcing herself into the weather manipulating mutant’s mind. Even if they hadn’t been friends, for a telepath to do such was akin to rape…even worse than that.

Ororo raised one shaky hand to grasp the glass and hold it to her lips, the ‘room temperature’ water flowing down her throat, relaxing it. “Thank you,” she croaked, rubbing her neck column.

“You’re welcome,” the redhead responded with a smile. A couple of minutes’ silence and she asked, “You ready to go?”

Nodding her head, Ororo started to turn to get off the bed, not caring much how black and purple dress bunched up together.

“Don’t you think it is a bit early to let her leave?” Forge interrupted her, his question oozing disbelieving sarcasm.

Jean started to say something but was cut off by Ororo. “It’s alright Forge. I am used to it…and so is Jean.” Her own tone by now had gone back to its usual even and somewhat detached self, her visage once again donning the emotionless mask that was her ‘public’ face.

Not caring or waiting for a reply or another question, she didn’t even attempt a ‘goodnight’, slowly walking away to the door, not noticing how Jean tried to hold Forge back.

“At least let me walk you to your room” the Cheyenne, freeing his arm from the doctor’s hand, caught up with her.
“NO!” The answer was blunt, to the extent to brick to the face. It brooked no argument. “No…” the second time around she repeated it slowly, almost as if apologetic for her outburst. “I need some time alone. Goodnight.” It was offered as an almost afterthought.

Just as the infirmary door slid open, the still slightly fatigued looking Ororo stopped and turned to Forge. “Sorry for wrecking your evening.”

“Never mind,” Forge returned with a smile, easily shrugging off her apology. “You can make it up to me, by agreeing to go out again next Friday,” he offered.

If he wanted an answer he got none as instead of saying another word, Ororo exited the room.

It was as if she hadn’t even heard him speak.

---

As soon as the door shut, Forge, his smile gone, turned to Jean. “Who is Logan?” His question more than a subtle undercurrent of anger. Who was this man whose name she called out? What was his relationship with her? What had he done to her? Where is he?

All those questions, and all Jean gave to him was a simple, “I don’t know. None of us does. Only she does.”

“Not even the professor?” Now he was really interested, the interest surpassing the anger. How come no one in the mansion did not know who this Logan was? Hadn’t they tried? Surely the Professor with all his telepathic power… He had thought that this Logan would be an ex-teammate or ex-boyfriend. “Not even Remy?”

“I am not sure about the professor,” she answered thoughtfully. “But Remy, about him I am pretty sure that even he doesn’t know who Logan is. We think that he must have been from her past…even before she met Remy and came to the institute.”

“Before that! But that would mean she was a teenager when this happened? When she met this Logan.” He name was spat out with blatant dislike.


A relative newcomer, Forge had joined the X-Men a few months back and unlike the others he was here on a temporary basis. At least that was what his contract said, which was another thing that set him apart from the other X-Men, which going into specifics, he was not. He was here to get the Cerebro, Mansion’s Security and the Danger Room upgraded.

But that didn’t stop him for going after the resident weather goddess whom he had been pursuing since day one.

All his efforts to get her to notice him and to get close to her seemed in vain…until recently. Finally, after many tries, he had had some success, Ororo agreed to go out for a dinner with him…just the two of them.

He had been ecstatic over his achievement – for about five minutes. Then Jean had walked into the kitchen and burst his bubble.

“You are not the first man…or woman who’s walked this path,” her voice had carried a friendly advice. “Over the years, various X-men and Non X-men have tried to do the same.”
“And?” He had asked in spite himself.
“With those who weren’t turned away directly…things never progressed beyond a dinner, at maximum two.”

Witnessing what he just had, he guessed whoever this Logan person was, he was the cause of all this. He was the one that had turned Ororo away from intimate relationships.

Thinking that thought, Forge did the only thing he could….he frowned.

---

Elsewhere (Five levels above),

She was standing, naked and free as the day she was born, in the balcony of her attic-apartment, looking as if at any moment she would launch herself over the edge, her body rushing down towards the hard grassy surface of the mansion grounds over a hundred feet below. Well, that is how it would appear to anyone who did not know who she was….of how she commanded the elements, making them bend and conform to her will.

However, a simple glimpse at the ominous clouds swirling high above in the night sky would be enough to tell that at this very moment she was here as the Mistress but as a child…a daughter, one who wanted nothing else than to lose herself in her mother’s embrace. For that would be the only place where she would be able to get some semblance of peace.

Reaching her room, she had very nearly torn her dress off, feeling the soft silky fabric suffocate her. Her pearl earrings and necklace, her watch, her single bracelet on her right hand were discarded just as quickly. Her nightgown was left hanging in the closet, with only the robe being pulled off to trial on the floor behind her. The soft cloth of the usually provided smooth caresses to her full toned body, but tonight even that was too much of a prison…that very thought only serving to add to the turmoil in her mind.

‘Goddess!’ She entreated, thinking back to the nightmare she had just had. It was nothing new. She had experienced the same nightmare, hundreds of times over the past seven years and as much as drained her, there was a sort of sick familiarity about it, one that provided its own peace to her suffering soul.

--

What troubled her wasn’t the nightmares but the recent bump in their intensity and frequency. Usually they occurred only a couple of times a year, coming around on what she had termed as her ‘special days’. However over the few months, not only did one appear out of schedule, it had occurred again a second time, just within the span of a week, then again, and again, and….until they had become an almost weekly feature growing even more frequent and realistic over this last week or so.

It was as if her subconscious was trying to tell her something, trying to tell that He was looking for her, calling out to her.

‘Hmph. Stupid adolescent fantasies, her logical side condescended. ‘He’s probably forgotten that you are alive….that you even existed in the first place.’
‘No, he wouldn’t.’ Hope held on. ‘He said he’ll find me. He promised.’

‘Promised!’ Her logic laughed at that. ‘Which planet do you live on Ororo Monroe. Seven years. That’s how long it has been. Stop living in the past and start living in the present, in the now.’

‘What do you mean?’
‘What I mean is look around yourself. What I mean is look at how you are letting life pass you by, standing alone by the sideline clutching at a past that matters so little that it might have as well have not existed in the first place. What I mean is Storm, is get up and smell the men!’

Finally catching onto what the opposition had clearly spelled out, the love that had once swelled proud within her cringed at the implication. ‘No!’
‘No? Why no?’ There was no letting up. ‘Why NO! Just look at the number of potential suitors that have been and still are after you. Look at Forge. Stop living in the past and just look at him. If you look at him, or for that matter anyone else, you will see that there are others who can give you all that you want.’ Her practical side suggested.

‘Forge?’ she thought. ‘No! No he cannot. No one can…no one but him.’
‘HIM?’ her logic scoffed. ‘Okay, lets say he finds you or you find him. Even after all this time it does happen. Who is to say that you will have the same feelings towards him that you did all those years ago. You are no longer the scrawny, dripping wet, over your head in trouble thief he rescued from the mob. You are Ororo Monroe, Storm. You are co-leader of the X-men and a respected member of society. You really think that you and someone like him will ever work? Just once think, not just feel but actually open your mind and allow it to think. You have one don’t you, a mind? You have that. So why not use it. You will come to know yourself that you need to move on and leave the ghosts of the past where they belong, in the past dead.’

Leave ghosts of the past in the past. Could she do that? Did she even want to?

Those were her last thoughts as she fell asleep, right there in her balcony.

---

Next morning,

“Tired?” It was a rhetorical question, and she knew it. But it was at least a start, an opening, one that Jean used to open the lines of conversation with her best-friend and teammate.

“Didn’t sleep well last night,” Ororo answered as an explanation, accepting the tea Jean was offering. For herself, the redhead has prepared a economy sized mug of hot scalding jet black no sugar Ethiopian coffee. One look and it would be clear whose coffee it was, for there wasn’t a single soul in the mansion brave enough to gamble their life with that concoction. Heavens, just one whiff and it was enough to get a day long caffeine-high. How did she drink that stuff?

“Oh,” well that expected. “Want to do a quick stop over at the infirmary? We have the time.” She gestured towards clock. Forty-five minutes till classes began.
“No, I…” Ororo stopped at seeing Scott and Forge walk in through the door, their clothes a clear giveaway at where they had come from, the ‘new’ danger room Forge and Henry had co-designed and built. Lately, Scott had been using quite a lot of time there, using a ‘Just ironing the kinks out,’ excuse to explain his addiction. The Danger Room, a pride and joy of the X-Men had really grown up with this latest upgrades. It was that good.

“Morning hon,” Jean greeted, leaning back in her chair flat against Scott who came to stand behind her. “Looks like you boys enjoyed yourselves in the danger room,” she hinted at Scott’s performance records, which were the best of all the X-Men. And even though he never preened on that fact or rub it directly in the noses of his teammates, it was clear that just like any other man Scott prided himself at his physical prowess. Instead of blaring it out aloud, he packaged it nicely in what he called ‘Team Building Exercises’.

Thankfully neither Jean or Ororo fell for his trap, both women having many times other to do to better utilize their time. They left the whole pissing contest to the testosterone factories.


“Oh Yeah.” Scott snapped his fingers. “Just guess who broke the level ten record again?” He grinned, pointing both thumbs towards himself.

“Umm, let me guess…” said his telepathic girlfriend. “Could it be Bobby? Or maybe its Piotr? Oh I got it, its Gambit.” She burst into giggles at the shocked look on Scott’s face.

“Jeeeeaaannn!”

“Sorry dear, just playing with you,” she gave in. “Who else but my boyfriend could beat his own record?” she ended, getting a kiss from Scott.
“Damn straight.”

“You know,” she wasn’t going to let him get off that easy. “You should be thankful that Ororo here doesn’t partake in this little competition of yours. She’d whip you easy.”

“Oh, hey Ororo,” Scott looked up, easily side stepping the attack on his manhood. “How did your night go?” Was his first question. “Sorry you guys sorry weren’t able to finish your date?” his second, one he asked while winking at Forge, who sat occupying the chair opposite to Jean.

Ever since he first showed up, Scott had got off with Forge and hence knew all about his efforts at pursuing the unattainable Ororo. She had never dated in her all her five and half years with the X-men. Forge seemed genuinely interested in her and Scott wished him the best of luck. What he hadn’t told him was about the unspoken unknown competitor that was Logan. That little fact was taken care of today as during their entire time in the Danger Room, Forge talked about nothing else but Ororo and who the hell this Logan was.

“My night was just fine, thank you,” emotion drained away with each word out of Ororo’s lips. “And it a dinner, not a date,” she ended tightly. “Now if you excuse me, I have my classes to prepare for.”

With that she set down the still warm tea, pushed her chair back and walked out of the room, ignoring the ‘Scott, you idiot,’ look that Jean sent her boyfriend’s way.

“Scott!” She hissed. “You should know better than to joke with her at time like this,” she frowned, clearly sensing the raw emotions rolling off her friend. It was nothing new after a nightmare. What was new was that some of the projections had their handsome Red Indian teammate in them. And that was new.

Was is possible that Ororo was finally falling for someone? for Forge?

That thought and whatever it was that Scott was going to say got trounced by the telepathic summon that sounded within them.

‘All X-Men. Please assemble in my office.’

---

Not ten minutes later,

Rushing last into the Professor’s office, the spiky haired teenager stopped short at the sight greeting her, or more like the people staring back at her. There was quite a gathering with Scott, Jean, Ororo and Gambit, making up the permanent seniors and Forge and Beast the temps. While Forge was on contract, Beast a.k.a. Dr. Henry Philip McCoy was here (in the institute) as a guest faculty. Once a student of the Professor himself, he had long since moved on, first to mutant research and lately to politics. But even now, after all these years, he made it a point to at least try and spare three months a year for his old school, believing that it was upto people like him to not only fight for mutant rights but also to guide the coming generations.

As for the others, the junior X-Men, Bobby, John, Kitty and Colossus stood side by side, the empty space between Kitty and John practically shouting out to her.

Even before anyone could say anything, her excuse was out, and in true Jubilation ‘Jubilee’ Lee fashion, it was so out there that it bordered on the scandalous.

“Sorry. Had to pee real bad.”

“Ah Ms. Lee,” Charles Xavier, the bald-headed older man, the one sitting on the other side of the expensive table, greeted her with a smile. “Please come in.”

Waiting for her to take her place, he busied himself with separating pages from the file lying open before him. Once every one was settled, he picked up from he had left off. “Thank you all for coming. I know it is still early for some of you,” he added looking towards the resident party animal, Gambit.

“Gambit here mon ami,” the thick drawl clearly told that even though he was here and awake, the Louisiana native was here under duress. After all, who woke up at seven thirty in the morning, and that too after just hitting the bed on the plus side of five.

“Well, lets get started,” said Xavier pressing a button. Immediately a three dimensional holographic map was formed before the gathered X-men, large enough for the teens to see it clearly without having to lean in forward.

“Where is this?” As always it was Scott who came up with the first question.

“What is this?” Forge asked pointing to a building on the map. The building looked simple enough, except for the vast ‘uncharted’ underground construction under it.

“That my X-men, is a mutant testing facility,” informed Xavier eliciting gasps from more than few of the gathered. “It is also your target.”
“Testing Facility?” Kitty piped up.
“It is a torture lab,” Ororo elaborated, her tone oddly tight and somewhat bitter.
“Yes,” Xavier nodded, agreeing to that simple and less than subtle explanation. “I am afraid that’s one way of putting it”

“How do you know that?” Forge turned to Ororo, only to have her look away, a blunt disregarding of his question.

“Your mission, is the decommissioning of this lab,” Xavier informed them about what they were to do, ending finally with their main mission objective, “and the rescue of one mutant.”

“Just one?” Scott started.

“Yes, just one,” Xavier concurred. “You will have to be extremely careful on this mission. This whole setup you see before your eyes is just to keep him contained.”

“All this for just one mutant” said Bobby, his eyes widening with wonder. “He must be a kick ass one.”

Although he gave a small nod at the boy’s remark, Xavier’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Yes. This mutant is possibly the most dangerous one you have ever faced or will face for that matter.”
“Even more than Bucket-head?” Jubilee quipped up with using one of the many nicknames she had for the X-men’s greatest and oldest mutant foe.

“In closed quarters – YES,” Xavier acceded. “According to my information, this is not the first place that he’s being held. He is moved frequently spending no more than a year at any one establishment. He is regarded to be responsible for the destruction of three such labs and almost two hundred lives, though the classified official records put that a much higher undetermined number.”

“Fuc…freakin’,” Bobby quickly swallowed his expletive outburst. “Two hundred?”

“So I once again stress on exercising extreme caution.” It was clear that Xavier was worried, and with good reason. Even though all the killings and destruction had been while trying to break free, he couldn’t help but worry about sending his team, his children into the veritable belly of the beast.

“Any more questions?”

“Just one Professor,” spoke the blue furred Beast. “The gentleman’s name? What should we address him as once we do find him?”

“His name I do not know but he goes by the codename – Wolverine.”

---

Note: Well, in keeping with the movie setting, I have made quite a few changes in the team, and even though Gambit is still there, Beast’s status has been changed to reflect his movieverse status. Also, unlike in ‘Dreams’ which was comicverse, the Jubilee here is very much a student at the school, as also a (junior) member of the team.

Also built on Ororo’s internal conflict (generalizing it) and her dynamic with her teammates.

Things change even more in the coming chapters….Please Review!!

03. X-Men Rescue…d!!

Summary: Staging a rescue is tough work, and so is putting together two people who can’t stand each other.

---

“Wolverine?! What sort of name is that?” The newly crowned Shadowcat piped up from her standing position behind Jean and Storm.

“What think you are related to him, eh Sprite?” Always the clown, Bobby did not let up the opportunity to make a dig at the phasing mutant’s short-lived second codename. Coming after her first one, Ariel, it had been dumped after one too many ‘Frizzy as Sprite’ jokes.

“Watch it Icepop,” ever the friend, Jubilee leapt to her roommate’s rescue. “Don’t make us take you down,” she threatened with all of her yellow overcoat clad, five-foot-one ninety three pound warriorness.
“Oooohh…I am so afraid,” Iceman raised his hands in mock fright. “I am practically turning to ice here.”
“Sure. That’s what that wet spot in front of your pants is.” Jubilee shot back, bringing about quite a few chuckles as Bobby fell for her dupe and snapped his hands to cover the non-existent wetness.
“Hah hah. Very funny…”


“We’ll ready the teams Professor,” Scott cut in, standing up from his chair to head towards the door and towards the lower levels where their uniforms and transport awaited them.

“Yes,” agreed Xavier. “However, I’d like Storm, Gambit and Forge to stay back. I have something that needs your…expertise. Scott and Jean will be leading the two teams.”
“Professor?!” Ororo was taken aback. “Charles. You just said, this might be the most dangerous mutant we might have or will face. We could use all the help we can get.”
“Yes. But there is also another mission which needs our attention, one that we have to complete at the same time as the first. It is of equal importance. And for that, I need two of your to stay back.”

“Two? But you asked three of us to remain here?” Forge gestured towards the lanky Cajun, who given his position and the Professor’s order looked as if he was ready to made like a bed and catch some zees right there.

--

In truth, Xavier mainly needed Forge and one of the two thieves for the mission and even though he had asked Gambit to stay back too, it was Ororo who was his primary choice…not because of any difference in their skill levels, but because of Ororo’s severe claustrophobia. A sensitive point at the best of times, Xavier did not want to risk a breakdown (from Ororo)…which the ‘underground’ nature of the rescue mission was almost sure to bring about.

“What is the mission Professor?” Forge was the first to speak. The way he perked up at the possibility of some quality time with Ororo, he might as well have had his fingers crossed behind his back, both his real ones and the ones on his bionic hand. After the previous evening’s debacle, he had hoped to talk to Ororo to help her with her situation. The simple fact that this ‘help’ would most surely be done between just the two of them did not color his intention. Not one bit.

Just as he wasn’t the least bit concerned or interested in getting to know more about this elusive Logan.

Sure.

Besides, even if he did not like witnessing Ororo’s nightmare experience, specially the part where she cried out the name of another man, even Forge would admit that yesterday night was the most emotional he had ever seen the usually calm, collected…closed Ororo to be.

He very much wanted to see her emotions again…in a better setting. Only this time instead of some faceless name, it would be him, Forge, that would be teasing down her Goddess mask…

…among other things.

---

Down in the changing rooms,

“Hey, what do you think this Wolverine looks like?” Midway into changing into his X-Men’s uniform, Bobby piped up. “What his…”

“Why? You thinking of dating him once he gets here?” Pyro snapped from his changing station a few feet away. Even though they were roommates not to mention best-friends, John was more than ready to make a quip about the ‘perennially single’ status of his power opposite.

“Screw you Matchbox. By what he looks like, I meant what are his powers?” Flipping his roommate the middle finger, Bobby turned to Beast who finishing changing into his own uniform was putting the finishing touches by fawning…ahem, by running a comb (in a very manly way) through his indigo colored locks. “Hey Dr. M, what do you think?”

“I am afraid…I do not know…” Henry spoke haltingly as he checked for the nth time if every strand of hair was in its appropriate place. After all, being a genius did not allow one from observing basic hygiene. “One can only imagine.”

“Well I think, he will be at least seven foot tall, like Pete here,” Bobby signaled to the Russian behemoth. “And as large as him, if not larger. And he will have some kick ass power like power blasts,” ‘but ones that he can control,’ he added in a whisper, primarily to keep it from the ears of a certain Cycloptic teacher of his. “Or maybe he had some kind of matter control like Storm or Magneto…well, like Magneto,” he amended. “Though I think even air is kind of matter. So okay, Storm too. Or maybe, he’ll be able to fly at super-speed and be invulnerable to any attack….and have super-strength too,” came out as an afterthought.

“Hmm.” Shaking his head at the young man’s imagination, Hank couldn’t help but suggest one addition of his own. “Add heat and x-ray vision and you’ve got Superman.”

“Yeah,” Bobby acceded. “But somehow I don’t think that someone with the name Wolverine would wear his tighty-whities on the outside. Then again…maybe he does and all those killings they are only because he got fed-up of people always pointing it out to him.”

---

Chancing in upon Bobby Drake describing a mutant with all their powers and then some, Scott chose that exact moment to walk into the room, his presence having the same affect as the proverbial cold shower.

“Iceman!” ‘Oh, they goes the leader,’ John scoffed at the familiar tone. “This is not a laughing matter but one of life and death. If that is a concept that is too high for you to comprehend and respect, I’d suggest you sit out this mission…and any others you feel the inclination to joke about.”

The ensuing silence was broken only when Scott continued his pep talk.

“It might serve you better to heed the Professor’s warning and not go off like a loose cannon…or take it flippantly,” said Scott. “Along with your own, your teammates lives’ also depend on it. And lets not forget the person whom we are going to rescue from that hell hole.”

“Yea’, ya betta ‘ear that,” leaning against the door, Remy snorted at Scott’s holier than thou tirade.

“Do you have anything you want to add Gambit?” Scott spoke over his shoulder, his tone tight and unyielding.

“Non O’Fearless one,” the return came just as quickly, and despite the easy way it was delivered in with just the same challenging undertone.

In truth, Scott and Remy had been going against one another ever since he and Ororo first came to the mansion. It was because of his Stormy that Remy didn’t explode a card or three up visor-boy’s ass.

---

Soon everyone had gathered outside the SR-77 ‘Blackbird’, the X-men’s primary mode of travel.
“Ok is everybody here?” Already in full leader mode, Scott nee Cyclops bumped it up a couple of notches…by doing a drill sergeant style head count taking note that despite his showing up in the changing rooms, Gambit wasn’t here. However seeing Storm there told him that out of the two thieves, it was Remy whom the Professor had chosen for the other mission. “Good. The attack plan is going to be like this,” he began describing.

“We will land about a mile from the base and then continue on foot. Storm will provide us with atmospheric camouflage while Jean will maintain continuous telepathic surveillance on all the guards and try to locate Wolverine.”

“Once we are within approach distance, Iceman and Pyro along with Colossus will fan out taking down all external posts and disabling any and every power source and vehicles. But take care that we are there for a rescue mission only. That means minimum harm to the soldiers. All three of you will be supervised and assisted by Beast, Jean and myself, while Storm will be taking the aerial route. That way, if anyone does escape or if unexpected reinforcements are called in, we will know it in advance, hence giving us enough time to get to safety…if necessary. According to the professor, these people pack heavy firepower. They have heavy duty, tranquilizer tipped armor piercing bullets. One bullet has enough tranquilizers to bring down an elephant. So along with people there also try to take care of yourselves and watch your partner’s back. Is that understood?”

While the seniors just nodded their confirmation, the five juniors gave an appreciable, “Yes Sir.”

‘Tranquilizer tipped armor piercing bullets….enough to bring down an elephant,’ Piotr repeated to himself. From all he had heard so far about this mutant, he was a bit intimidated and worried (both for himself and for his teammates), while thankful for his thick skin.

Scott noticed the nervous look on some of his teammates. In truth, the Professor’s revelation had unnerved him too. ‘This mutant is possibly the most dangerous one you have ever faced or will face for that matter.’ The words rang in his mind along with his warning to exercise extreme caution. By that, the professor meant both towards mutants and humans.

“During the time we clear a path in, Shadowcat will phase inside with Jubilee. Their objective will be to try to find Wolverine but without engaging in any sort of combat. What they are to do, along with their prime objective, is to disable any security cameras, locks and posts they come across. In short, they will pace a way inside simultaneous to us on the outside. However, under no circumstances are either of them to approach or confront Wolverine. If and when they find him, they are to maintain a distance of at least thirty feet from him and be prepared to phase away if he attac…approaches.”

“Once we have acquired out target, we’ll rendezvous at the Blackbird. Is everything clear?”

Everyone nodded his or her heads in agreement with his plan.

“Good,” he said, stepping towards the jet. “And remember again. The X-men value life, all life, whether mutant or human.”

---

Five minutes the SR-77 Blackbird, the larger of the two X-Jets took off, using the secret cliff-side tunnel to keep away from anyone who might be watching.

It was followed not ten minutes later by a smaller, ‘unmarked’ aircraft, this one carrying the reluctant team-up of Forge and Gambit. While Forge was sulking at having Gambit instead of Storm, Remy was scowling at the stunt Ororo had pulled to get him to go on this mission instead of the other one.

‘Y’ didn’ do good Stormy,’ the Cajun groused to himself. ‘Pullin’ rank. Hmph.’

Heck, what was Xavier thinking. Even a person who didn’t know Ororo very well would know enough to not coddle her…challenge her. And both Xavier and (following his lead) Forge had tried to do just that. As for Remy, even though he perceptively tried to stay out from the fray, he was dragged in, with Ororo pulling the team-leader card on him.

Although it was Scott who was the X-Men’s leader, with Jean as his second, the responsibility of junior team was with Ororo and there was no way that she was going to let those kids go on such a mission and not go herself. Claustrophobia or No Claustrophobia. ‘I will die before I let anything happen to those children.’ Those had been her exact words and the look that went along with them silenced even Xavier.

“Belt.”

“Huh?!” Lost in his thoughts, it took Remy a couple of seconds to realize who had said what to him.

“Seat-Belt.” Forge gestured tightly. “Put it on.”

“Hn.” A semi-scowly scowl and Remy complied but not because of Forge’s words but because of the light blinking on the controls. Thanks to a safeguard built into both the X-Jets, it was necessary for both the pilot and co-pilot/navigator to have his/her seat-belt on for the plane to take off.

Apart from Ororo not being there, what soured the situation for both Forge and Gambit was the present company. With Gambit, along with the automatic suspicion that came with anyone making the moves on Ororo, the simple fact that he was friends with Scott negated any chances of him getting along with Forge. Conversely, Forge still smarting from the passive aggressive verbal smacking that Remy had given him after the first time he saw him trying to get close to Ororo, would rather have gone alone on the mission than with Gambit.

Unfortunately (for them), Ororo’s clipped…command had taken the decision out of their hands.

---

Couple of hours later,

With a ‘sudden’ fog descending around them, providing cover, Scott adeptly landed the Blackbird in a clearing among the trees, the rising darkness doing its bit to hide the near silent jet. The hatch opened and one by one all the X-Men stepped out.

A quick re-run-through of the plan of action and they were off, breaking first into two groups and then as they finally neared their destination, further into four pairs with a solitary Ororo taking to the skies, using a sudden burst of air to propel her up and past any guards and or sensors.

“Wow. It’s so beautiful,” Kitty whispered, overcome as she stared at the looming snow covered mountain peaks, the thick green trees and the wide river meandering through the mountains.
“Yeah reaaall bootiful,” Jubilee nudged her along, hoping but failing away with a snap from Scott.

“Shadowcat. Jubilee. Pay attention you two,” scolded Scott, using their codename. “We are here to shut this lab down and rescue a fellow mutant, not to have a picnic.”
“Hey! What’d I do?” Jubilee snapped back over the communication lines, her outburst drowning Kitty’s mumbled ‘sorry’. “I was the one who was going according to plan you drag me in along with her. What the…”

“All right, all right.” Scott ground out. “Now keep quiet and maintain absolute electronic
silence. Any communication will be through a telepa…”

**Done.** Jean’s mental hail cut in, informing everyone that the link was in place and working.

**Thanks Jean** Scott returned, ignoring the snickers that came from at least a couple pathways. **Now lets get this show on the road.**

----

A short time later,

**SCOTT!!** The yell practically tore through the minds of all the X-Men, as did the panic that accompanied it.

**J-Jean-nn. Nnnn…** Falling to the ground, his hands grabbing at his head, Scott whimpered at the psychic assault. More than anyone else, it was him who was feeling the brunt of emotions that Jean was pumping out, all thanks to the permanent psychic links that he shared with her. **Nnooo…Sto….p. Pleeeaa…**

Thanks to the same link that was threatening to send Scott into convulsions, Jean realized what she was doing and quickly clamped down on her projections…as much as she could.

**Sorry Scott….everyone.** She apologized. **But I need you to come out. NOW!! Wolverine’s escaped.**

**Escaped!!** Even though they couldn’t see him physically, both Kitty and Jubilee felt Scott’s scowl…aimed towards them.

**Hey, we didn’t do nothing.** Jubilee quickly pointed out. **We are not even anywhere close to where Wolverine is…was....uh, at least we think so.**

**What do you mean YOU THINK SO!!**

**Scott please,** Jean interjected. **Now is not the time for this. I need you to come out. Something else has also gone wrong.**

**Something else? What happened Jean.** A lesser man would have soiled his pants. (A/N: See, I can write good things about Scooter.)

**Its Ororo.** The telepath’s emotions flared again. **She’s been shot.**

---

Note: Well, we all know how this is going to turn out…but this twist is for bringing in some new…well, old blood!!

Please Review!!

04. Going Down

Summary: What happened to cause Jean to breakdown? And where is everyone else…including the soldiers?

---

“Oh my…oh…ulp.” Ever the talker, the lively living walking fireworks show, Jubilation ‘Jubilee’ Lee, found herself tongue tied at the sight before her, or more like at the shadowy figure that was skulking down the corridor.

Though on the outside words evaded her, and thankfully so, on the inside both Jubilee and her partner were blaring out aloud, ‘Oh my freaking GODDD!!’ Well, at least Jubilee was. Kitty’s reaction was a much subtle, ‘eeep.’

Already on a hair-trigger the two girls near about lost it when all of a sudden the figure stopped and turned towards them. Lost it not because of his naked state, although Jubilee did take note of it, filing it away for later…umm, personal use, and not only because of the blood and gore literally flowing and falling off him, from the looks of it, a lot of it his. What drew their attention and almost caused their hearts to stop, right at the same time as their minds grappled whether to empty the contents of their stomachs or their bowels…at the sight of some-thing…some-things that in spite of the crimson on them stood out as clear as day.

‘C-Cck-Bucb-Cl…’ Even their thoughts took wings and fled at the sight of the six metallic blades that turned in their direction, the stranger’s probing eyes (and their other senses) just missing them, both because of the rage clouding his mind and because of Shadowcat’s (fortunately) untimely phasing through the floor.

“Did you see that?” Not even caring where they were, Jubilee turned to the other girl. “Tell me you goddamn saw that, them, those…those….”

“Knives? Blades?” Kitty provided, her not quite sure about what she had seen with her own eyes. Who was that? What was that? The Professor didn’t tell them any such thing being here. According to him, the only person here, other than the soldiers, the doctors and the technicians was…

“Hey!” The slim X-Girl exclaimed. “That-That’s…”

**Sorry Scott….everyone.** Whatever she was going to say got lost in Jean’s intrusion. **I need you to come out. NOW!! Wolverine’s escaped.**

Things had just taken a turn for the worse, the feeling of dread compounded by the revelation that came a few thoughts later.

Storm had been injured…she had been shot.

---

A few minutes ago,

“Bitch, get back,” still brandishing his gun and putting on a show of bravery that he sure as hell didn’t feel at the moment, Corporal William ‘Bibo’ Stronsky yelled (whimpered rather) at the thing floating a few feet from him.

As if things weren’t bad enough being stationed in his hell hole doing the unenviable and potentially fatal job of trying to keep inside whatever it was that the bald-freaks were working on, now he had to go up against freaks like this one here.

“Get AWAY!!” He snarled again, his feeling of ‘ready to pee his pants’ growing even more as he realized that he was all alone here. And if there was anything that had been beaten into his mind, especially when dealing with these freaks, was to never confront them alone…or for that matter, in pairs. ‘Nothing less than a dozen normal, real human-beings.’ That is what their superiors used to tell them…everyday at breakfast, lunch and dinner.

And the way things were right now, Bibo was seriously considering giving up the fight and going the way of his teammates, all of whom were lying all around him, knocked out by the lightening shooting out from the hands of this white haired mutant whore. (A/N: Please allow for the language as it is from the mind of a prejudiced, scared S-less soldier.)

*BANG BANG…Click Click Click…Click!!*

“You might want to give up now,” the bitch spoke to him, her even tone rubbing his defeat in his face.

‘How the fuck do I kill someone who just stops my bullets.’ Although he had seen her do it before with his colleagues, Bibo had nevertheless used the last two bullets in his clip to try to take her down, only to have the electricity or lightening or whatever it was around her stop the lead projectiles in mid-flight.

Maybe he could…

As his old pappy taught him, ‘When the going gets tough, the Stronskies get on their hands and knees and dig into the trenches.’ Granted Old Pappy wasn’t necessarily talking about what Bibo was just about to do, but hey, its wasn’t like it was the old fart whose butt (and other body parts) was the on the line here.


“Please. Don’t do it.” Ready to let another burst of lightening go, Storm stopped at seeing the man fall onto his knees. “Please…I beg you. We’ll all d-di…please don’t.”

What was it that had a grown man groveling like a child? Had she waited for the answer to that question, Ororo would have understood that the electrical generator she was about to short-out, not only did it power the external security-perimeter but it also acted as a secondary back-up for the insides too…including the ‘dungeon’ which held the Wolverine.

Her eyes crackling with electrical energy, the weather witch brought her hand back down. “What do you…”

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG …*

As with her words, Ororo’s world too went for a spin as all of a sudden not one but three bullets tore through her midsection, a fourth one just missing her jugular as it grazed her skin on her way down.

“Take that you muta…” Rather happy at his double cross, Bibo didn’t even get the time to complete his gloating as, finally free of the strict control that was keeping it contained, the lightning that Storm was wielding, finally broke free…going in all directions including the power grid.

“…nt. Fuck,” renewed fear shot up through the man.

---

A couple of hundred feet below.

ZZzzzzz….

Zzzz…

…

…

‘Huh?!’ The Wolverine realized something.

The constant flow of the electricity that his captors used to maintain through his bonds…it was no longer there.

Thunk! One pull.

Thunk! A second.

THUNKKK-THUDD!! And he was free, free to escape….

…but not before killing every last one of them.

---

Back to the present,

Rushing to exit the building, the three X-Men, Cyclops, Beast and Colossus rounded the corner only to stop short in their steps, with Scott who was bringing up the flank nearly plowing into the much larger Piotr.

“Oh my stars…” That Henry couldn’t even get his trademark phrase out told Scott that whatever it was…

“Fuck!!” A second later he supplied his own reaction, his already (thanks to Jean’s emotional feedback) frazzled mind all but breaking down at the blood, death and human body parts laid out before them…as also the corridor coming from the other side.

“What happened here?”

“A-Ay-…” Had he been in his organic form, Piotr surely would have thrown up as he grappled with something to say, some way to explain all this carnage. And he had thought that seeing cows being slaughtered and hung out to drain on his farm back at home had been bad.

**SCOTT!** The panicked cry came out loud and clear. **Hurry up. I can hold for only so long.**

Though the other two might have missed, Scott easily caught the strain in his girlfriend’s thoughts, a direct give away that she was splitting her attention…meaning using her telekinesis.

But for what?

“Oh shit.” A second of a mental projection and it was as if he himself was there using tk to stop Ororo’s bleeding, the multiple bullet holes making it all the more difficult.

“Henry hurry!”

---

Elsewhere,

Rushing back from their own perimeter check, both John and Bobby came to a halt at the sound of an approaching vehicle.

VROOOMMM!!

Barely had they adopted a fighting stance when, a motorcycle with a single rider flashed past them, gathering speed with each second.

“Wow!” Bobby let out an exclaim of appreciation, both at the bike and the way that the rider was handling it. “Nice wheels.”

“Come on man!!” Pyro tossed over his shoulder starting to run after the rider. “Fearless told not to let anyone get away.”
“Huh? Wha-Oh. Oh yeah.”

“Hey!! You two. Stop. Wait for us,” both screeched stop at the shrill cry.
“Oh no, not you two,” Bobby lamented at seeing Jubilee running towards them, followed by a rather tired looking Kitty. Phasing for such a long time and that too for two people had taken a lot of her and had it not been for the importance of the person they were following, Kitty would have surely taken a breather.

There was no time for that now. Not with their target getting away from them.

“What do you want?”

“That. Him.” Panting loudly, Jubilee pointed to the now vanished bike. “Tha-that was him.”
“Him? Him who?”
“Him him jackass.” The pint sized, red in the face, Kitty snarled true to her name. “As in Wolverine. Him.”
“Wha-he…that…you mean…oh man, Scott is so gonna be pissed.”

“Iceman. Pryo.” And sure enough, as if drawn up by magic, the man in question’s voice blasted through the previously silent communicators. “Where are the two of you? Get here NOW.”

“Oh, uh…we found Wolverine.” Bobby blurted out, getting a rather frowning ‘we’ from both Jubilee and Kitty.

“We found him.” Jubilee activated her own ear-device. “We tried to catch up with him but he…”

“He what?!” The way he snapped at them made it all the more clear to the four teenagers that something was seriously wrong on the other end. Although they knew that Storm had been hit but from what Jean had told them it was all that bad.

What they did not know was that Jean had kept the complete truth about Ororo’s injuries from them, conveying it only to Scott and Henry.

“He...uh, got away,” Kitty completed meekly, her (and the others’) eyes widening at the ‘Fuck,’ that came from Scott’s end.

A couple of seconds’ silence and then, “Where are you?”

“We-We…” looking around, almost as if he expected to see a direction marker, Bobby quickly pulled his shirt sleeve back to reveal his standard x-men issue watch-cum-compass-cum-barometer. “We’re about,” a quick look at the base and he carried on, “About a hundred and fifty feet from the base at about twenty-three degrees North and…”

“Wait right there,” Scott didn’t even let him finish. “And don’t move an inch. We are coming.”

As bad as things were, there was no way Scott was letting this mission go down as a complete failure, and thanks to their resident super-genius doctor and his emergency (for him) medical center in the Blackbird, he wouldn’t have to.

And if the need arose, Henry and Piotr had standing orders to take off without them.

---

A few kilometers away,

“Step on it soldier,” yelled the angry Major, his voice betraying all of his panic. Panic for his life, and rightly so. After all, he more than anyone knew what the ‘thing’ following them was capable of.

“I am going as fast as I can Major Wraith sir,” blubbered the young man in the driver’s seat.
“If you want to stay alive – private,” Wraith threatened. “Then I suggest you go faster…even if you have to get out and physically push this pile of shit.”


“Excuse me sir,” it was as if the man hadn’t even heard him, the color all but run out from his already sweaty, pallid face. “Buh-But there…there’s some block in the road.”

“Its is blocking, the blow it….” Wraith’s eyes followed the soldier’s hand, widening to saucers as he saw what or rather who it was. ‘How’d he get here so soon?’ he gulped.

“Floor it,” he commanded.
“Sir, we can’t go any faster. If we try, we’ll skid on the snow,” tried the private. He had recently been posted to the lab and had heard tales about its prize possession. It was said that, this thing couldn’t be killed, no matter how hard…or what you hit it with.
“You fuckin’ retard,” yelled Wraith. “I said – FLOOR IT. Ram it as hard as you can.”

The private floored the gas pedal, causing the truck to accelerate and pick up speed.

---

“Oh my….” That was all Beast could manage as the truck barreled towards and into the lone figure, calmly sitting on the bike in the middle of the road.

However, just as the last second, almost as if a key was turned to start him, the mutant known to as Wolverine snapped into action, jumping off the bike and crouching low on the ground.

-SNIKT-

Six metal blades shot out of his hands and as the truck came within arms’ length, he extended his hands forward, the metal of his blades cutting through the lower carriage and front axle causing the truck to dig into the ground, Wolverine trapped under it.

The impact broke the private’s neck, killing him instantly. He hadn’t noticed his commanding officer jump out of the truck at the last moment or thought of doing the same.

“No one could survive that.” a wide eyed Iceman stated, gesturing towards the remains of the truck.

The words had barely left his mouth, when there was movement from the wreck and a smoldering figure crawled out from under what remained of the truck.

“What the…”

“Sweet Jeezus!!”

“Holieee….shit on a….”

“What is he?” Even though he had just seen it with his own visor-covered eyes, Scott didn’t quite believe it.

---

Wraith knew that a small thing like a two ton truck wasn’t going to stop Wolverine. At the most it would slow it down…for a few minutes.

Just enough for him to get ready.

With his hand on the gun’s trigger, he smiled menacingly as he saw movement under the truck. The gun in hand was a special one. If he managed to get enough shots, it would take care of the animal, once and for all.

“Wrrrrai…ddhhh” wheezed Wolverine, his face twitching as new muscles grew on it. Lifting one still burning hand up, he pulled out the metal bar that had skewered his right eye. “GnnaAAHH!!”


The X-Men watched in horror as the human soldier let loose a barrage of bullets on the injured mutant. The bullets exploded on contact, blowing away chunks of his still healing skin and muscles.

---

Suddenly the gun was yanked away from Wraith’s hand. Looking up he saw a redheaded woman floating in the air, her one hand on her forehead and the gun rising towards the other extended one.

“Enough.” Her commanding voice sounded both out aloud as in Wraith’s mind.

“Fuckin’ great,” he mumbled. “More muties.”

His lapse of concentration and the gun was his undoing as the next instant he found himself on his back, a hairy and bloody face inches away from his, three claws on the left side of his head.
“W-Wrrraith,” growled Wolverine. “I promised I’d kill ya.”

“Go-uh…t’ugh hell,” Wraith winced feeling his his ribs cracking under the weight of the mutant straddling his chest.
“First ya try it out,” Wolverine bared his fangs, drawing his claws across Wraith’s face.

Already suffering under the four hundred pound plus weight, Wraith cried out as with one slip-of-a-claw Wolverine nicked his eye.

An eye for an eye.

“NO!” A cry from the redheaded woman, halted Wolverine’s hand.

“Don’t kill him.” she spoke.
“Why?” What the fuck did she want. “You fuck him or somethin’.”
“We don’t kill.” Jean disregarded the rather crass comment.

“Hn. Don’t have tha guts?” Wolverine snorted at her. ‘Well then its good that I do.’ he finished turning back to Wraith.

“We can’t let you do…” Scott interjected, drawing Wolverine’s attention to the other x-men.

“What are ya bunch of fetish freaks gonna do ta stop me? Scare me with yer leather uniforms, while Red here gets down and blows me.” The last comment was more to press the red-eyed man’s (Scott’s) buttons than anything else. Heck, what had the woman and him done? Just finished fucking? Their scents practically sang of the other.

“No.” Jean scowled at his jibe. “This is what I am going to do.” she hissed.

The next instant, Wolverine found himself suspended ten feet in the air. ‘Mutants’ his mind cried out. ‘These fuckers are mutants.’ He tried to break free from Jean’s telekinetic grasp, but his injuries along with the immense blood loss had weakened him greatly.

Wraith had shot him point blank. His special gun had an explosive charge along with the usual tranquillizers. He also sensed an intrusion into his mind. He could sense his world going black as his healing factor kicked in full force, knocking him out.

“Red! Bitc…hhh,” was the last thing he said before unconsciousness overtook him.

---

Setting Wolverine down, Jean turned to Wraith, who was trying to crawl over. Rising to the air and reaching for him, she caught hold of his shirt collar.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just snap your neck right now,” she threatened.

Wraith smirked at her through his bloodied face. “You can’t,” he stated calmly. “The animal was right; you people don’t have the guts. None of you pansies do. An’ you know what else…”
“What?”

“You should have let him do it.”
“What!!”

“Yes.” Even with one eye gone, the hate shone clear in the man’s gaze. “You should have let him kill me. Especially now. Now I have seen all of your faces…meaning…you all are as good as dead.”

Jean let go of his collar, dropping him back into the snow. “You make me sick. You people are the animals. Treating another human being like that,” she said starting to walk away.

“You things are not human,” Wraith yelled after her retreating form. “NOT human”

---

Note: Though the last part (with Wraith) isn’t quite different from the first time (its originally from the Ultimate X-Men) the rest of it is an (almost entirely) fresh change/addition.

Next? Well, Wolverine in da House…uh, School.

Please Review!!

05. The Fire Within

Summary: This one’s got a lotta Jean n’ Scooter in it…and I do mean A LOT!! And no, it is not Schizoid-Phoenix…not here.

---

“What do you mean you wanted to kill him?”

He didn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe them, believe what they had just heard…not only heard but also seen, the psychic projection as clear as if it were a real occurrence.

How could she? No. It just wasn’t true.

“Jean?” Still more shocked than horrified at the possibility, he tried again. “Jean! Answer me dammit.”

“Yes Scott,” as off tilt he was feeling at the moment, the sheer evenness of her tone sent Scott for a toss. “I wanted to kill that man.”
“Bu-Buh…” there now it was even more clearer. Any doubts that remained from her previous admission of, ‘we’d be better off with that man dead,’ all of them were swept away by this burst of clarity.

“You don’t mean that.” Still he wasn’t ready to give in. How could he? Not only was it unexpected, it was also entirely unwanted…if not needed. Although the thought had flashed through his mind too, there was no way Scott would take or participate in taking a human life. “Please tell me you don’t mean that.”

This time around, instead a verbal answer or even a telepathic one, all she did was lock eyes with him. Eyes that always shimmered with love and care, eyes that he used to lose himself into, those heavenly emerald orbs…they were cold and hard, almost as if they were truly made of stone.

“Oh god,” his hand smacking and holding his forehead, Scott fell back onto the bed of the suite that he shared with the redhead standing a few feet from him. “You do mean it.”

“Yes Scott.” Jean acceded softly. “I do…and you would too if you were in my place, if you had seen what I saw.”

“What you saw?” It was true, for all they had witnessed, neither Scott nor any of their other teammates had had the mentally harrowing experience that Jean had…alone. Even that first (and only) unexpected emotional assault, it had been ‘second hand’ for them. But Jean? She had not only experienced all that first hand but through the psychic web that she had spread out, she got hit with projection from the others in the base. The others being the soldiers and civilian workers…every single one of them.

Still, it did not preclude her from respecting the sanctity of life.

Even more so her than anyone else…for she had a taken an oath to do so.

She was a doctor.



“What did you see Jean?” Even though, thanks to the Professor, Scott himself (as the other X-Men) had been cleansed of any remainders of Jean’s intrusion, Scott was feeling the same unease that had been with him from that very moment. And with Jean currently suppressing their psychic link, both for her recovery and his, the lost feeling was compounded many time over. “What did you see? Please…tell me.”

---

//Flashback//

Maintaining a lookout, both visual and telepathic, Jean was finding it increasingly hard to maintain her control, not because of any problem from any of her teammates but because of the ever rising panic being projected by the other people in and around the lab.

They were afraid, every single man on base was afraid, and surprisingly (for her) almost none of it was attributed to any one or all of the X-Men. Instead, there was a looming darkness within all of them, a darkness with a roughly humanoid shape and soul-chilling blazing red eyes…and something else, something that eerily looked like rather long but oddly still roughly straight fingernails to her. And what was even more odd was instead of the usual five on each hand, there were only three here.

Already strained, the telekinetic-telepath all but buckled over as a literal burst of painful energy came up through one of her channels.

“ORORO!!” Her heart sank.

**Ororo,** Trying again, telepathically this time, Jean reeled at the aftershocks of being shot. Only it wasn’t her who had been shot. It was her best-friend.

‘No. No god, please no.’

--

**Sco….** Rushing to her teammate’s assistance while calling for backup, the already unsteady X-Woman got assaulted yet again causing her feet to finally give up from under her, as (almost) did her senses.

If things had been bad before, now they had just taken a turn for the worse. Within seconds of Ororo’s cry, the fear and panic among the soldiers had jumped multiple-fold. And even more than that, the dark shadowy presence that had been in all of their minds, the same that had been essentially silent until now…it got a ‘voice’ of its own.

And to say that it radiated anger was like saying that a nuclear bomb was just a glorified firecracker.

‘N-Nnn….’ The redhead ate dirt…literally, closing up in a fetal position with her hands grabbing her head in an effort to block out any and all thoughts…even her own.

//End Flashback//

---

“Oh God,” His eyes wide behind his ruby-colored glasses, Scott ran his hand through his hair, trying to make something out of what Jean had told just him.

“Why-why didn’t you…” he halted, his analytical mind kicking at the most inopportune time. “But that still doesn’t explain what you did to that man Wraith or why you are saying you were ready to kill him.”

What she had done to that man?

---

//Flashback//

“You things are not human,” Wraith yelled after the retreating Jean. “NOT human. You are nothing but…AarRGGHhhh….” His word got cut off by the cry that tore from his chest…perfectly in time with invisible force that knocked his shoulder off its joint.

“Wha-…” It didn’t take a genius to understand what had just happened. After all, among the gathering there was only one who had the powers to accomplish this. “Marvel Girl don’t…”

Scott might as well have spoken to empty space as disregarding, both his verbal and projected plea, the redhead turned and started back towards Wraith.

KRRACCKK!!

“AAARRGH…” This time around, it wasn’t just a simple dislocation that elicited the cry, this time around, Wraith found his whole lower arms turned frontside-back. The cracking sound that had caused even the X-Men to wince, it had come from the breaking of the major’s elbows, both of them.

“We are WHAT!!” Jean’s voice boomed in the wide empty countryside. At getting no reply except for painful whimpers, she carried on. “Let me tell you what we…what I am. I am a woman. I am a daughter, a friend and even a sister. I am also a doctor. And the fact that I am a mutant is just a part of who I am…of WHAT I am. I never asked for this or stole it from anyone. It was just something I, something all of us were born with.”

**Jean....please.** The plea knocked at her, only to be neglected.

“What we are, are just people…people who want nothing else than to live their lives in peace, and without fear, fear of prejudice, fear for our wellbeing…not only ours but also those around us. We don’t use our abilities to harm another…to do…”

**…THIS…** Wraith went stock still at the voice that boomed inside his head.

**If I want I can kill you with a single thought…IF. I. WANT. But…** The presence withdrew.

“…We are not like you, like the rabid animal that you are.”

If anyone expected a response from the Major, they got it from the growing wet-spot in the front of his tattered pants.

“And if you ever come even near any of us or even try to harm another mutant…” the verbal threat trailed off, with the remainder once again sounding telepathically.

**You WILL die.**

//End Flashback//

---

“Scott, he…” tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, Jean shook her head almost as if trying to clear away the memory of the projections that Wraith had sent out along with his threats to hunt and kill the X-Men. She did not even want to think about them, let alone open them up for Scott to see.

“Ssshh…sshhh…” Scott did not allow her to continue, drawing her to her chest in a tight embrace. He was an A-1 grade tool for putting her through this. What had the Professor told him? Oh, yes. ‘Please see to that she does not stress herself.’

‘Great job you did Summers,’ he cursed himself. ‘Maybe the Professor should have said that please see that YOU do not stress her, dumbass.’

--

A few seconds of silence and Jean drew away, got up and walked to the bathroom, reaching for her box of Kleenex to wipe her tears away.

“I’ve got to go.” She started towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Scott exclaimed, standing to obstruct her.

“Down to the infirmary to check with Henry.” Given her condition, the Professor had forbid Jean from helping the other doctor in operating on Ororo. And even though that she knew that it had been the right decision, Jean couldn’t help but feel as if she had failed her best-friend. Not only was she not there to stop the shooting in the first place, but now... ‘I should have been there.’

“Oh.” Sensing her unease, Scott relented…but just about. “Okay. But then, you are to come right back here and rest for at…”

“Then I am going to see Wolverine.” And just like that, he was back up.

“NO! No Jean…” Scott shook his head. “You stay away from him.”

Had it just been that one instance at the base…heck, after what he saw what had been done to the soldiers inside, even then Scott would think twice before himself going near that man, let alone letting Jean do it. But now, after he almost woke up on the way back home, not only woke up but also moved to attack Jean and the others (before he lost consciousness again), there was no way in hell…

“What!!”
“I mean it Jean, you stay away from that Wolverine. He is danger…”
“You cannot stop me.” Within a blink of an eye, Jean was gone with Dr. Grey standing in her stead.
“Jean…”
“No Scott.”
“Jean please…”
“No.”
“Its an order.” Okay, time to bring on the leader.

“What!! Its….an…order?”
“Yes.”
“You cannot do this.”
“I can and I just did.”
“No you cannot.” Uh-oh. “Even barring that I am an adult, my medical privileges supersede your team authority. So Cyclops...back off.”

And just like that a second later she was gone, leaving Scott to bang his head against the door, ruing the day he agreed with Xavier to allow this clause.

---

About an hour later,

Massaging the bridge of her nose, a rather tired Jean walked through the doors of the X-Men’s holding cell-turned-emergency medical room. Even though her thoughts had settled down, the fatigue of the mission was finally starting to set it, even more so given that they (the senior X-Men) had been up the entire night. As for the juniors, they had retired soon after arriving at the mansion, except for Piotr who had been stationed on guard duty for Wolverine and Bobby who had been assisting. But they too had gone to bed now, as clear by the person sitting at the controls now.

She should have known…no, she knew that he would here. Especially at this time. He would be loathe if he let her do this alone.

He was anal…ahem, fastidious that way.

Maybe that’s why she loved him so much…loved her Slim ‘Fastidious’ Summers.


Sauntering up to stand beside him, a hand resting on his shoulder, she let herself relax for a few seconds at the warmth that radiated at the sheepish smile that he flashed at her.

“Ready.” It was both a question and a statement, one that said, ‘I am deferring to your authority and I am also sorry for being a jackass earlier.’

Softly running a hand through his hair, Jean bent down for a soft kiss. “Ready.”

--

A few minutes later,

“Is he going to be alright” Scott asked, more than a little tense at being so close to Wolverine, and moreover with Jean also being there. It had been a real haul but with John and Bobby pitching in they had managed to transport Wolverine back to the X-Jet. Once at the mansion, Piotr had Clangked-up and easily hefted the unconscious mutant and carried him here.

‘Doesn’t look all that heavy.’ Scott mused with yet another analyzing gaze, his eyes stilling at Wolverine’s hands.

“Yes,” Jean’s answer cut into his musing as she reached to his side for a couple of roll of bandages. She had been cleaning and taking care of Wolverine’s wounds, removing the old bloodied dressing to out on a new one.

At least that had been the plan.

“What the…” She gasped, the bandage rolling free from her palm.

“What? What.” Scott instantly reached for his visor which he donned in place of his glasses. Though he did not want a fight with the stranger, he was ready to for one. “What happened. And what are doing getting so close to him? I told you…”

“Scott,” this was just getting too much. If she followed Scott’s way, she would have to work with two foot long tongs…hmm, better make that twenty. “In case you have forgotten, I am a doctor and as a doctor I have to get close to a patient to treat him. Now, stop throwing a hissy fit and let me do my work.”

Hissy fit!! P-shaw. What was she saying? He was Scott Summers, leader of the X-Men and a teacher at The Xavier Institute for the Gifted…not to mention a grown man. He did NOT throw hissy fits. He got worried.

And rightly so, after all they knew next to nothing about this Wolverine fellow. Who knows what other powers he might have. Maybe he had super-speed or maybe he was from an island of Wolverines and was their representative to man’s…world.

‘Oh god. Please don’t let have her heard that.’ Scott pleaded internally. ‘I really need to stop supervising the younger kids’ TV hours…especially their cartoon shows. What’s next? Getting a green and yellow spandex costume for Jean. Hmm, now that is a thought worth thinking. Maybe one with a part cut-off in the front like that…what’s her name…P-P-P…yes. Power Gi…’


“Impressive.” Thankfully, Jean had better things to do than to catch her boyfriend going all kinky-geek on her and comparing her bust size to a fictional comic character. Leaning in closer to Wolverine, she lifted one latex covered finger to a previously bandaged part of his skin. “Wow.”
“Wow? What is wow?” Coming around to the other side, Scott leaned in for a better view.
“This,” the redhead pointed to one of Wolverine’s wounds…well, to what used to be a wound.
“Huh?! What.” All Scott could see was plain clean skin. It looked a bit on the pink side but other than that…nothing out of the ordinary.

“Wait, I’ll show you,’ reaching down to the bandage on his midsection, Jean gently peeled off, showing Scott (and seeing herself) what she already suspected.


Both of them watched attentively as a previously rather nasty looking gaping bullet wound healed right before their eyes. Fresh muscle fibers knitted up with layers of skin following soon after.

“Whoa.” Scott jerked back.

“Accelerated healing?” Jean mused still marveling at what she had just seen. “No, its not only that…,” she halted as she checked the other exposed parts.
“What?” Scott questioned, his mind working in overdrive trying to review the events from a few hours ago in light of this new discovery. ‘No wonder he survived being hit by a truck.”

“Its not just accelerated,” Jean corrected herself. “He is actually regenerating muscle and skin tissue. But for him to do that….he would…”

The far away look in her eyes lasted all but a few seconds before the doctor jumped into action, or rather her exclamation made Scott jump.

“Quick. Get me glucose.”

“Wha-What?” Why’d she need glucose Scott frowned. Hair-boy here was all but done healing most of his wounds. So why would…

“Scott!! NOW.” Not waiting for a response the redhead started for the door herself, on the other side of which a trolley (with various medical equipments) stood. Had they not been sure that left near him Wolverine would make use to the trolley and other equipment to stage an escape…well, suffice to say that it was Scott who had had the final word in that argument.

“What…oh,” he rushed after her.


A couple of more minutes and a drip of glucose got connected to Wolverine’s right arm, the sugar feed giving him the energy his body needed to put his healing into high (if not highest) gear.

---

The next morning,

“So this is the great Wolverine, huh?” Huddled at the observation window, the gathered group looked more like little snot-nosed…ahem, bundles of joy than X-Men in training.

“Uh-huh,” though asked to no one in particular Kitty nodded in response, her eyes not able to move away from his solitary exposed hand, the other one shrouded by white x-issue covers.

Those hands and the blades they had in them were the only thing that held her attention…until, “Hey!!” Jubilee high pitch screeched caused her to wince. “Who did that to him?”

“That?” More than one head turned in question. What had she seen that none of them had. The news that it had been Jubes and Kitty who had found Wolverine had spread like wildfire among the entire student body, and even though it wasn’t even nine both girls had recounted their story around a dozen times…individually.

“That!!” The way she pointed at Wolverine, it was clear that it was something serious…something very serious, maybe serious enough to call Scott or Jean or maybe even the Professor.

It was… “Who is the idiot who put clothes on him?” ....ACK!!

“Huh?!” As with the question, this reaction too was a collective one.

“Oh man,” Jubilee lamented. “This is cruel and unusual punishment. This is torture. This is just…”

Cough cough.

“Oh…Uh, Oh hey Professor. Good Morning.” She didn’t miss even a beat. “I was just telling the others about how it was back at the base, and how we rescued Wolverine from the torture they…and we even gave him clothes and all.”

The look that Xavier gave Jubilee was one akin to a parent who realizes their folly at blurting out a ‘bad-word’ in front of their kid…only now, with the kid tossing the word at anyone and everyone, and that too at the most inopportune time, they can’t do jack, except give that look. That and apologize to whosoever gets awarded with that word.

“Good morning Jubilation, everyone.” ‘Uh-oh.’ Jubilee gulped. ‘He used my full name.’ Even though it was her real name no one ever used it for her, well almost no one. There was one person in the whole mansion who nearly, almost always, without fail used it. But then again, Ororo…uh, Ms. Monroe was cool that way. Heck, she didn’t make the students follow the screwy system that Sco…Mr. Summers used, the one that had them call him as Ms. Summers while in class and Cyclops in the Danger Room. The only time they were to call him by his ‘real’ name was during off-hours.

“We-uh,” Kitty stepped in, “We just wanted to see if…if Mr. Wolverine has…”

“Its completely understandable,” Xavier put her out of her misery at trying to take care of Jubilee’s mess. “I myself am here for the exact reason.”

“Oh.” Now what were the children supposed to say when their headmaster himself was here for bird-watching…okay, wolverine-watching.


“Is he going to be alright?” Kitty questioned Xavier, taking note of the unconscious man on the other side of the partition.
“Yes, I do believe so,” the older man nodded. The truth was that he wasn’t here just to see Wolverine but also to try to test something that Jean had informed him about. According to her even though she had been able to gain entry into his mind and subdue him earlier, once at the mansion, she couldn’t get even a simple reading, not even after repeated tries.

She hadn’t told Scott about it fearing that he would take it as something wrong with her. And although she too had that doubt, until Xavier gave her the pass signal, what troubled the redhead even more was that she had harmed Wolverine in some way.

Oddly enough, even Xavier, with his decades of experience, wasn’t even so much as get a peek at what lay inside the man who classified file had sent a chill down even his spine.

--

“So…When will he wake up?” Bobby came up with a query of his own.

“Not for at least another few hours. He has suffered extensive internal injuries as also…suffice to say that it will some time before our guest awakens.” It was a clean PG15 version of what all Jean had told him. “Disappointed Robert?” He quickly changed the subject.

“Huh?”

“He doesn’t appear to be anything like you imagined.”

Had he not experienced it many a time before, Bobby would have been shocked as to how did the Professor come to know about his comments from the previous evening. But then again, he was a telepath, and not the most…one of the most powerful telepaths in the world.

“No way,” the teenager exclaimed. “Man…I mean Professor, you should see the way he moves, I mean moved. How he handled those soldiers? He got hit by a truck and just got up and walked away like it was nothing. And I look at him now, its as if nothing happened. And those claw things…Whaooza!”

“As I….” Xavier started.

“And look at those muscles…those biceps.” It was clear that Bobby wasn’t finished. “He could give Pete here run for his money,” he gestured over his shoulder.

“Those aren’t the only muscles worth checking out,” Jubilee waggled her eyebrows at Kitty, her suggestive comment and expression causing the at-best-times shy Kitty to turn a bright tomato red.

“Ahem….yes.” Xavier nodded. It would be better if he got out from there, better for his mental well-being and peace of mind.

Rolling into the elevator he turned to see the teens once again engrossed in the ‘new guy’.

Was he also ever that age and moreover that horn...ahem, that youthful.

---

A few hours later,

She had been in the infirmary when it happened. With her best-friend waking up and on way to recovery, she was ready to kick off her shoes and relax at having a load lifted off her mind.

Things were all right aga…

**JEAN…HELP!!**

---

Note: Well, that too long to get out. Have had to really rethink my characters with the new setting (i.e. Universe) and personalities. Also, as I completely disregarding any events/depictions of the train-wreck that was X3, Jean isn’t the crazy-zombie queen…though have tried to maintain her dynamic with Scooter.

Please Review!!

06. Get to it already

Summary: As the title says…also, what exactly happened to Ororo after they brought her to the mansion.

---

“Oh God Ororo! No…”

**Its Ororo She’s been shot.**

“Storm….Ororo. The others are on their way. Hold on…stay with me…please.”

**Hurry up. I can hold for only so long.**

“Ms. Monroe…”

“Oh…there’s so much blood.”

“My stars…Ororo…”

“Is the blood ready?”

For Ororo Monroe, the weather-manipulating mutant known as Storm, her last few conscious moments were lost in a deep red pool of pain…the pain of having been shot, not once but four times. The only breaks came in the form of voices…or maybe it was just her hallucinations, of her teammates.

They sounded worried, that much she knew, but for whom, she did not know. Just as she did not know how close to dying she had come. Hadn’t it been for Jean’s telekinetic powers and her medical expertise, Ororo wouldn’t have even lasted the trip to the mansion…and she wouldn’t even need all of her four wounds for that. Just the hole in her liver would have done her in.

Yet, if the voices in her head were any indication, now, after almost seventeen hours after her last comprehensive thought, it would seem that not only was she alive, she was also in the safety of her home.

---

“She’s waking up.”

The first thing that Ororo noticed on coming into consciousness…well, other than the feeling that a truck had run her over or that she had been shot (which she had), was the people surrounding her. Once again, maybe it was just her blurred vision and the drugs coursing through her veins, but Ororo could have sworn that she felt a caress…along her mind, maybe even two, and although both were clearly different in their origin, both conveyed the same feelings of relief, joy and love…all of them for her.

It took her a few second, but once she got her eyes working properly and more importantly working together…in one direction, she noticed that there was more than one person at her beside. In fact, there were more than the two people who’s thoughts and feelings she had detected. There were a lot more. Had the whole mansion come to see her? Trying to count, she counted a total of fourteen, only to realize at the fifteenth that there were a quite a few twins, triplets and even quadruplets among her well-wishers.

In truth, there were six. Going in order, almost as if standing in formation, both doctors, Jean and Hank stood on either side of the bed, right about at her shoulders, both of them busy in fawning over her. Was she really hurt that bad? As for the others, sitting next to Jean was the Professor, with a clearly tense Gambit perched on the edge of the solitary chair next to the blue furred Beast, with Jubilee and Kitty in worried attention at the foot of the bed.

“Ororo? Child…” The Professor was the first to speak, the others literally hanging onto his words expectant for a confirmatory answer from the woman who was so much to so many of them.

“Y-Yes…” Ororo gave a slight nod and the barest of smiles, finally able to make out the faces of those around her. Jubilee’s was the first face she saw, and naturally enough the firecracker was the first among the non-telepathic group to speak out…albeit in an oddly (for her), soft tone.

“Hey Ororo,” she gave a little wave of her yellow-glove clad hand.

“’Morning Ms. Monroe,” Kitty interjected, her young face sporting a mixture of fear and relief. Even though both the doctor’s seemed content with Ororo’s condition and rather sure of her progress, this was the first time Kitty had seen one of her teachers…or for that matter, teammates, hurt so bad.

“H-He-…ugh…,” giving up on speaking just yet, Ororo feel backs to nodding, but even that was a chore. Someone seriously needed to lift that Volvo truck off her head. It was really becoming a drag now.

“Here sweety, this should help,” Jean’s slender hand came forward, a thin ice-chip held between her thumb and first two fingers.

“Stormy,” Gambit leaned into her field of vision, his usually bright happy face looking years older at the two-day-old stubble and eye-bags he was sporting. “You really scared Remy.”

“Don’t…” Raising her free ‘non-drip-feed’ hand Ororo caressed her closest ally and family member’s unshaved cheek. “…call…mm…e…Stormy.”

The chuckles that broke out at her oft-repeated comeback to Remy’s awful nickname for her broke through the remaining tension.


Feeling a little more limber Ororo flexed her neck muscles, stopping at seeing another prone form a short distance away.

“Hey Ms. Monroe,” lifting off his pillow the blond head of Warren Worthington smiled in greeting.

“Warr…en?” Ororo’s brow furrowed at him. What was he doing there? Even though he was one of the senior students, Warren was still at least a few months away from being on even the junior team.

“Wuh-…?” Turning her querying gaze to Jean she got her answer.

“Warren’s a healer,” okay that she knew. “His blood…” Jean hesitated, unsure if she should give out the details just yet and that too in front of the youngsters. “…you had lost quite a lot of blood.”

“Not to mention that thanks to the healing properties the recovery time should be very brief,” thankfully Hank took over from the faltering Jean. He knew that even though she was there….against his wishes, that Jean herself hadn’t recovered completely from her ordeal. As per the Professor’s strict orders, Jean was currently under a forty-eight hour psychic-curfew, meaning…no use of telepathy for that time duration…except for when under proper guidance. Given the level of her powers, that would mean only Xavier was powerful and experienced enough to provide that guidance…as he had done moments ago when Jean momentarily caressed Ororo’s waking mind.


The revelation about Warren donating blood brought home to Ororo the true extent and severity of her injuries. She knew that she had been shot, after all, who wouldn’t ‘know’ when a highly charged metal projective tore through you. What she did not know was just how many times and in which places the said projectiles hit her…but for Hank or Jean or even the Professor, for them to not only consider but to actually use ‘The Angel Option’…

Her mind closed against even thinking about it, at least not yet…later…maybe.


Parting her lips to inquire about the result of their mission, Ororo’s question turned into a frantic cry of her best-friend’s name as grabbing her head, the redheaded telepath stumbled and then fell to the floor.

THUDD!!

“JEAN!” More than one person reached toward her, Xavier nearly falling of his wheelchair as he made a futile grab at her, only to have himself nearly pulled down by her.

**JEAN…HELP!!**

The call, although sent out for Jean, had reached Xavier too as did a bone-chilling visual…that of three razor sharp claws about to slash at his face.

----

Elsewhere,

Returning from his mission with Remy and after a quick debriefing with the Professor, both Forge and Remy had headed for the infirmary only to find a Guard-Beast blocking their way. There would to be no disturbing the patient, not until Hank was on duty and although he did allow them to ‘see’ her, stepping inside her room was strictly off limits then.

Remy had parked his Cajun behind in the near empty infirmary, waiting for a time until Hank allowed visitors or until Jean relieved him…or at least until he could nag one of the two doctors into allowing him in, even of it were for a few minutes. As for Forge, as per the Professor request and Scott’s message, he headed over to the holding cell, and that was where he was when the Wolverine woke up.

Just a few minutes before all hell broke loose.

---

A short time ago,

“He’s crazy if he thinks he can break out of that,” Forge frowned as he peered at the large monitor in front of him.

On the screen, an extremely agitated Wolverine could be seen trying to shatter the glass by running from one corner of the room and ramming shoulder first into it.

“He IS crazy,” Scott’s frown was just as deep, and a lot more worried. “You should have seen what he did to those soldiers. He killed all of them…they didn’t even stand a chance.”

“What else did you expect with what the Professor told us about him?” Forge looked over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow at Scott fiddling with his visor. “Something wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Your visor,” Forge lifted a finger. “Something wrong with it? Want me to take a look?”

“No. No, nothing,” the way Scott’s hand shot down it as if he had been caught in the proverbial cookie jar. “Its just…” he trailed off turning back to the enraged Wolverine inside. “Its nothing.”

‘He shouldn’t be here.’ That thought seemed to have made a permanent home in Scott’s mind becoming even more louder when, instead of the estimated twelve hours, Wolverine had woken up in not even half that time. It was as if the glucose drip that Jean has attached to him had not only helped him recover faster but the nutrition feed had literally put his healing factor in over drive…kind of like the way a racing car accelerates at a NOx injection.

--

//Flashback//

“Its not possible,” a then alone Scott had blurted out to himself, his hands springing into action to check the sensors, while he stared at the monitor. Sure enough, the mutant lying in the center of the room was slowly clenching and unclenching his hands.
“This cannot be happening,” he whispered, his hand clutching his forehead in frustration. “Its JUST not possible.”

“What’s the matter?” it was at that exact moment that Forge had walked into the room and set his coffee mug down on the flat empty space next to the controls.
“He-He’s waking up,” Scott squeaked while pointing to the screen. “He’s waking UP!”
“Scott, you don’t have to repeat yourself,” Forge patted his back as if trying to get him to calm down. “So he is waking up. Isn’t that a good thing? It means he is recovering.”
“No. I mean yes,” blubbered Scott, trying to gather himself. “But now…this-this is just too soon. He shouldn’t be up for at least another eight hours.”

“Why?” Forge chuckled. “Did he place a wake up or something?”
“No,” Scott scowled at his friend. “You don’t understand. The reason he shouldn’t be waking up this soon…that he cannot be up, is because Jean sedated him…”

“So?”

“…With enough sedatives to render both you and me unconscious for a week…each – ten times over. And that was just four hours ago.”

//End Flashback//

--

“Try talking to him?” Forge spoke over his shoulder. “Maybe it will calm him down.”

Nodding at the suggestion, Scott pulled in a deep breath and spoke into the mike.

“Please be calm. You can’t break that glass. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

---

Inside the holding cell, Wolverine was rapidly losing control, his feral instincts starting to take over.

He had woken up to find himself in an unfamiliar surrounding. Initially he had thought he was in another lab and that everything had been a dream. For almost as long as he remembered, he had been one lab or the other, moved frequently so that the people there wouldn’t grow lax…and end up dead.

Until the last one. How long he had been there, he didn’t remember.

However, even in these new surroundings, it did not take him long to realize…to smell that there was something different about this place. It seemed too clean to be one of theirs – no blood, piss, shit or vomit anywhere. Moreover, as the last remnants of the sedative left his system, things started to become clearer…he started to remember.


‘RED!’ he growled. She had gotten into his head. ‘The Leather Freaks,’ his mind called out ‘Musta be their place’.

With that thought, he began looking around, for a way out from the cell – his attention immediately going to the seemingly thin sheet of glass. He needed to get out of here…he just had to for even though his mind wasn’t quite ready to believe it, his senses had caught it…caught the scent. Hers. The fuckers had gotten her too. She was here…and she was hurt.

He was going to kill each and everyone here and not fast as the other times. No. These fuckers, he would make them pay for hurting her, for making her bleed.


He was readying himself for another run, when a mechanical sounding voice filled the room. “Please be calm. You can’t break that glass. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

‘Grrr’ his fists clenched at his capturers. ‘Can’t break it, eh? Well then I’ll slice it.’ He didn’t want to get the claws out yet, not without knowing what kind of mutants did these people have here…but they left him no other choice.

“Once I get outta here, I’ll gut each and every one of ya,” he threatened his captors, raising a fist to accentuate his point.

Outside the cell Forge queried, “Gut? What does he mean gu…t?” The question stuck in his throat as three long metal claws sprang out of the raised hand and three more from the other one.

“That.” Scott answered wearily, a hint of nervousness seeping into his calm demeanor. “That’s what he meant by gutting us.”

“Claws!” Forge moved to the glass window on the side of the main control room. He had to see it for himself. ‘Yup, definitely claws,’ his mind processed through his surpise. “He has claws…metal claws!” he pointed out to Scott.

“I know,” sighed Scott, a resigned smirk on his lips. Forge was just as stunned as he had been the first time he had heard that sound and seen the blades shoot out from between Wolverine’s knuckles.

As they looked on, Wolverine calmly stepped to the glass, drew both his hands apart and after a moment’s silence, let out a loud roar, sinking them deep into the glass, right up to their whole one-foot length.

----

That was then, and this was now…now as in, Scott fighting for his consciousness, his throat in a seemingly iron-strong chokehold, his mind still groggy from the last blow.

As for Forge…

//Flashback//

“What are you doing?” Forge started up at seeing Scott head for the holding cell.

“I am going to talk to him,” Scott answered calmly, too calmly.

“What?!” Was he crazy? Talk to…to this man-animal? “Scott…”

“If we don’t calm him down, he is going to break out and then he is definitely going to kill us,” once again the mental image mutilated bodies flashed before Scott’s eyes, only this time instead of the soldiers at the base, it was the students and teachers living in the mansion. “And Forge…”

“Yes Scott?”

“Get out your gun,” now Forge was really worried. “And if anything happens to me, shoot him…and keep on shooting until he goes down…and then shoot some more. Just don’t let him get off this level.”

So stupefied was he that by the time Forge fumbled out his answer, Scott had already walked up to the holding and was already entering the codes to open the secret door, all while trying to get through to Wolverine.

“Look, we don’t want to…we are also mutants. Mutants who help others like us. It was us…we were the ones that broke you out of that lab. We don’t mean you any harm. So please calm down and….umph.” He didn’t even get to complete his sentence for even as the door slid open, and Forge’s cry sounded out to him, the Wolverine was already on him.

The sheer force of four hundred pounds of metal, blood and muscle hitting him not only hit caused Scott to fall of his feet, it sent him flying into the opposite wall

“SCOTT!!” Yelling for his teammate, Forge, having already drawn his gun, wasted no time or consideration in using it on the clawed Wolverine.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM…

Meant to both draw Wolverine’s attention away from a seemingly unconscious Scott and to take him, the energy bolts had about the same effect on the now completely healed and reinvigorated Wolverine as a piece of rebar hitting a rhinoceros’s hide. It only served to anger him more…as leaving the visored Scott, Wolverine turned towards Forge, and all of a sudden launched himself against the Cheyenne.

“Oh the spiri…AAARRGGHH!!” A barely visible swish of one clawed hand and cries Forge’s cries echoed through the room and hallway outside.

Even though he had cried out at the pain shooting through his body, it took the bionic limbed mutant a couple of seconds to realize what had happened to him, seconds in which, his gun fell from his hand hitting the hard metal with a dull thud…along with the metallic limb that had been gripping it.

Forge stared at his hand…his shiny, stainless, non-rusting, neurally linked, practically indestructible titanium hand, and the Wolverine had just chopped it off as if it was single sheet of paper.

“Where is…” Three razor sharp blades staring at him in the eyes, the bloodshot eyes boring into him, Forge nearly squealed as all of a sudden him attack fell onto him. Had he not moved, he surely would have lost at least one eye and probably the complete lower half of his face, instead of the minor sliver sliced away as he jerked to the side.

Having just woken up, Scott did not waste any time in trying to get up, instead he opened up his visor the strongest setting he could use in this enclosed a space.

At the same time slicing through his jumbled thoughts, he mentally ‘yelled’ out as hard as he could.

**JEAN…HELP!!**

//End Flashback//

How things went from there to now, with him being dragged by his neck to the elevator, even Scott did not know.

In fact, he was so out of it that despite Wolverine’s repeated questioning, he had been unable to give an answer to the only words to come of the other mutant’s lips.

“Where is she?”

---

Back in the infirmary,

“Claws?” Ororo’s eyes widened as recounting their mission from the previous evening, Jubilee mentioned the blades that came out of Wolverine’s hands.

Presently, apart from her and Jean, the only people in the room were Jubilee and Kitty. The others, namely, Jean, Gambit, Beast and Xavier had left to respond to Scott’s frantic cry. While the first three headed for the holding area, Xavier was just outside the door, concentrating to try to get a proper hold on Wolverine’s mind…only to come up against mental blocks, ones even impenetrable for someone like him.

‘How had Jean managed to get through them?’

“Yes Ms. Monroe,” Kitty nodded, sending a furtive glance at door. “Right from here,” fisting her hands, she pointed and touched a finger at the space between her knuckles. “They were like huge knives.”

“Yeah,” Jubilee nodded, feeling rather useless in the current situation. If only she had been older, better trained…in the senior team, then she would be out there helping the others, ‘than sitting here with my thumb up my ass.’

**Professor!** Ororo projected to Xavier.

**Yes Ororo?** It was clear that the telepath was straining himself. So far, he had only been able to get vague flashes, all of them showing nothing except the red of uncontainable and uncontrollable rage…all except two. In those two, he had seen a luminescent silhouette, clearly female in form.

**Are what Jubilee and Kitty saying true? Does…does W-Wolverine have claws?**

Xavier paused at the emotions welling up behind Ororo’s question. Even though he had been unable to get into Wolverine’s mind, Charles had been able to get through to Scott…and heard the question that Wolverine had asked of him. Though ignorant of who Wolverine was asking for, the telepath knew that the answer to that query was the only thing keeping Scott alive.

Still he was more than a little confused (and very thankful) that why had Wolverine taken Scott as a hostage instead of outright killing him?

As for the identity of the mystery woman that the feral mutant was asking for, at first Charles had thought that maybe it was Jean and that he wanted to get revenge on her for what she had done to him. However, now…now he wasn’t so sure.

**Yes,** he answered back. **It is true.**

The abrupt silence that followed and sensing the three X-Men closing in on a cautiously advancing Wolverine, Xavier pushed forward.

**Ororo…**

**I want to see him Professor,** such was the intensity of her thoughts that Ororo might as well have yelled them out aloud. **I-I…don’t hurt…don't let them...**

It took Xavier all but a second to understand what had caused Ororo to suddenly become so agitated, and how Wolverine was tied into it.

“Oh…Oh!” Even Xavier could not keep him mouth from falling open at what he saw.

This changed things, a lot.

---

Not five minutes later,

A quick rethinking session, a small psychic bomb, an impressive display of telekinesis, some equally impressive enhanced senses and not even five minutes later, not only Xavier but Jean, Gambit and a Scott carrying Henry burst through the infirmary doors, a berserker roar sounding seconds behind them.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod…” Hiding behind one corner, Jubilee chanted as per Xavier’s instructions both she and Kitty made themselves scarce from around Storm, but not before noticing how tightly wound up their usually calm teacher had become. That her eyes did not leave the door for even a second only added to their confusion and nervousness. “Ohgodohgodohgod…mmpf.” An equally fearful Kitty slapped her mouth shut.

“RRRAARRGGHH!!” The doors didn’t even get to open fully before Adamantium claws tore into them.

He knew she was close that she was here. The redheaded bitch, she had done it again, got into his head and although he did not lose consciousness this time around, it had still hurt like fuck. He was so going to enjoy killing her, as killing her lover boy….all of them. That even after bathing twice, Jean literally radiated the lingering smell of Ororo’s blood on her, at least for someone like Wolverine, only seemed to seal her fate even more.

She was here, just on the other side of the door. She was here.

He was going to-

“L-Logan?!”

She was…there.

---

Note: Well, they’ve finally met, but not before Wolve…ahem, Logan's already made some ‘friends’ among the mansion residents.

What next? Well, Xavier already knows…but the others don’t. Next they all come to know too, including Remy…and Forge too.

Please Review!!

07. Action-Reaction

Summary: An interlude or a second part of the previous chapter, you decide. Things go both happy-happy and sad-happy in this one.

---

Then,

“Hmm-umm-hmmmm-….”

“Whatcha doin’?” There was a bemused humor in his growl.
“Nothing.” The response was just as light a clear indication of the relaxed state of the duo. It was even necessary to actually see them to know that these two were making the most of the few stolen moments of peace they managed to snatch after the seemingly never-ending running of the past few days.

“Nothin’?” Lying flat on the motel bed, Logan arched to stretch and crack the kinks in his back and neck. “Then why do I-…shit,” his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

“You like it?” She asked while holding up her ‘accomplishment’ for inspection.

He stared at her doing, then at her…then at it…at her…at it…at….

“What the fuck is this?” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What?!” Her arching eyebrow was an eerie reflection to his. “I was getting bored and…”

“Bored? Bored!” She was getting what! “You were bored, eh and then what…decided to go all girly all me? Shit ‘Ro,” he cursed flexing his hand to draw it back in.

“No! Don’t.” She firmed her grip at his thick wrist. “Not yet…let it dry first,” and to emphasize her point, she blew gently on the aforementioned ‘doing’.

Still under shock as to how she managed to do without him knowing about in the first place, Logan stared dumbly at his companion. “You high or something? Puttin’ that shit on me.”

“Its not on you,” the snow haired Ororo protested. “Well, not exactly. I mean it is on you, but it's only one claw. It’s not like I put anything on your face. Besides, its not shi…poop, it’s nail-polish, and the best there is.” She waved the two bottles she had used to beautify the front quarter of a single bone claw, taking great pains to use the natural ridges and curves to make a rather interesting design.

“It looks soooo beautiful,” Logan frowned as the witch crooned and crawled up to straddle his midsection, giggling at the ‘oomph’ that escaped from his throat at the sudden weight. “See,” she lifted it and placed it against her chest, placing her own smaller hand beside it, her own fingernails eerily similar to his bony claw…only much smaller.

More shocked than angry, Logan found himself dragged in a completely different direction at her actions. Already precariously close to his personal ‘launching pad’, the gentle but insistent and completely natural way Ororo settled down to grind over him, was quickly reading him for take-off. Right under where his hand rested, even through the fabric barrier, he could feel the heat radiating off her smooth supple skin, the appreciable curve of her breasts, the rhythmic thumping of her heart…it was becoming very difficult to think of anything except her…let alone maintain a semblance of annoyance.

“Lo-OWW!” Ororo yelped as almost of its own volition, the large hand closed around one breast, its fingers spreading out over the round expanse. That there was one razor sharp claw not even an inch from her skin did not scare her in the least. She knew that he wouldn’t ever hurt her…she trusted him for that.

‘Well, except for…’ she smiled at the memory of the previous night, reminded once again by the dull ache that was still making her feel rather.

“Yer a crazy broad you know that,” another tight squeeze and Logan let go, drawing his clawed hand away from her, but bringing the other one to gently rub one bare thigh, his thumb sliding along its inner curve along her milky smooth skin…the smoothness all thanks to the killer power of Nair. He had literally whooped from joy when they finally reached a place where she’d been able to get it. Whooped because he did not want to chance her making good on her threat that of using his claws to shave her legs…or worse, his shaving-blade.

‘Usin’ a man’s blade!’ He had been scandalized at the mere mention of it. ‘There ought to be a law against that. Even I’d support that one.’

“Crazy…Broad?” Dressed in nothing but a trademark redneck red-and-green checked flannel shirt, her long flowing hair falling in disheveled curves, Ororo narrowed her eyes at him. “You trying to tell me something?” Her mimicked growl was a near exact match of his. “You calling me fat, bub?” She added, stressing on the last word, mainly because of her dislike of it and her personal mission that she would get him to stop using it.

Knowing that it was more a tease than a real question, Logan let his caressing hand slide over along the outer smoothness of one thigh curving along the roundness of her hips.

“Nah darlin’,” he jerked her closer, close enough so that their breaths mingled with each others. “Yer not fat…yer…” he trailed the backside of his fingers along the smooth contours of her jaw. “…just…”

“What?” Ororo gulped - hard.

“Just…crazy.”

The change of expression on Ororo’s face was one that Logan would remember for eternity, if only because of the way it reversed going from a the flushed look of rising arousal to dumb surprise to finally the frown of just having been had.

WHACK!

“Hey!”

WHACK! “Crazy!!” KAPOW! “I’m crazy, huh?”

“Hey!” Logan mock yelped as a solid fist replaced the chest-slaps. It didn’t hurt as much as amused him seeing her like this.

“Maybe I am crazy,” Thump!! Ororo smacked at one broad shoulder. “Why else would I hang with Mr. Grump-Supreme?” She quipped. “I can’t think of even one good reason.”

Ever the tactician, Logan Quick-Draw McGraw-ed his answer. “Sex babe.”

“Wha-?” Ororo balked, her already rosy cheeks coloring even more. Ever since she had first shared a bed with Logan, her first and until now only man, even though Ororo had grown comfortable with her sexuality, there was still an inner shyness within her - one that even after all this time Logan still found a way to draw out, much to her (current) chagrin and to his chest puffing amusement.

“Sex?” Ororo crossed her arms at her chest, and turned her nose up. “Sex is nothing. Nothing I tell you. That I can get anywhere, anytime, from anyo…”

“NO!” Her quip stopped at the sudden snarl from the man under her, as well as the possessive fire that lit up in his eyes. “No one else. No. One.”

‘Got you,’ the weather vixen smiled internally. Seeing him like this, the way he reacted at the mere thought of her with anyone else, Ororo could almost believe that it wasn’t just mere convenience that kept them together. At first it might have been - but not anymore. There was something more, something deeper…much deeper, something that she so much wanted to give a name to.

“No one.” She whispered softly, her gaze both proclaiming and pleading, her hands lowering to caress just above his heart.

“No one.” Logan growled…almost purred back at her. “No one…ever.”

‘Ever.’

---

Now,

For Scott Summers, that he was still alive was something that he could not believe. The last thing he remembered was three razor sharp claws closing in to plunge into his face. There was also something else, something he wasn’t even sure that he had even heard…the Professor’s voice in his head.

Moreover, had it not been for the pain shooting throughout his body even more so on his face, Scott would have sworn that he was dead, for there was no way that the afterlife pained this bad…not even Hell.

His eyes fluttering behind their lids, he forced them open, only to have them fly wide open at the sight before him…his reaction coming nary a second later.

--

//Flashback//

**Professor!** Jean exclaimed mentally at what Charles had just conveyed to her. **What do you mean we just let him pass? He has Scott.**

**I know that Jean,** Xavier’s tone was as calm as ever. **And I have a plan to get Scott away. However, to do that, all of you will have to step back and let Wolverine come to you.**

**Bu-…No.** The memory of the flood of emotions from the Base still fresh in her mind, the rage coming from Wolverine clawing at it, Jean shook her head even as her two teammates, Gambit and Beast stopped mid-step. As with her, they too got the projection of Xavier’s plan to both save Scott and to get Wolverine to the infirmary.

**Jean,** this time Charles’s thoughts were only to the redhead. **Trust me. Scott’s life is not danger…not if we give Wolverine what he wants.**

**What he wants?** Jean’s brow twisted in a frown. **What do you-** She started, only to stop as Beast yanked her into an empty room. Even if his two teammates hadn’t heard, Hank with his enhanced hearing had heard the ping of the elevator. There was no time to waste in deliberation. Whether Jean liked it or not, it was Charles’s move now. It was that or a direct confrontation with Wolverine, one that could leas to him doing even more harm to Scott…maybe even fatal.


Time seemed to stand still, as making his way along the metal corridors, Wolverine inched forward…her scent acting like a rope that had lassoed him. In fact, it was the prospect of seeing her that was keeping him from losing it completely, especially in these surroundings, the metallic underground setting raising the hair on his back.

With his attention completely on tracking her and already pulling an unconscious Scott with him, it took him a while to detect the other X-Men, especially Jean. However, it was not they who would attack him…that blame would go to a man he had not even met yet.

Ten feet from the door behind which the three X-Men stood waiting, Xavier made his move, and with a snarled groan Wolverine tumbled to the floor, his hostage falling free from his hands.

**Jean NOW!** Charles did not know how long it would be before Wolverine recovered, for even though his ‘psychic blast’ had been strong enough to take down a grown man, the feral mutant’ss telepathic barriers were quite formidable themselves...with the primal rage that with each passing second just seemed to grow, making things all the more difficult.

Even as Xavier’s hail came across to her, Jean and her teammates were already in action. First was Jean. Using her telekinetic abilities not only did she draw Scott away from his captor and towards her, she also applied an equal repulsive force on the snarling Wolverine.

Next was Gambit and moving as if in a relay race, he grabbed Scott and headed back towards the way they had come from, Jean flanking him. That left Henry to bring up the rear and although he too wasn’t going to confront the stranger, he was going to delay him. For that he would have to stay back to engage the manual locks of the five one-foot thick metal doors that lay between Wolverine’s current location and where (if the need arose) the X-Men were going to make their stand, the Infirmary.


However, none of those fears came to fruition for even though by the time he toe through the barriers and arrived at the infirmary, Wolverine was bordering on going berserk, all of his rage seemed to drain away at just whisper.

“L-Logan?!”

//End Flashback//

---

Time stood still, not only for the couple staring at each other but also for their gathering observing them. With Kitty and Jubilee huddled together, Jean cradling an unconscious Scott and Henry doing his best to contain Gambit from going off and attacking Wolverine, Xavier was the only one free enough and calm enough to pay attention to every single detail of the meeting taking place before them.

‘Logan.’ Ororo struggled with herself only to have her choked throat give up on her. He was here, finally after years of waiting, a lifetime of tears and longing, he was here.

As for Logan, had it not been for her scent filling his senses he wouldn’t have believed what was before him. His captors had played with his mind, driving him to the brink of insanity repeatedly, but they had never managed to trick his animal senses, never his sense of smell. Those were as sharp as ever and had never let him down. Now…now there she was and along with being able to see her, he could smell her natural fresh rain and a tinge of the earthy smell that could be only hers. Heck, the overlaying sandalwood and vanilla odors were an easy give of her choice of soap and shampoo. There were some subtle changes, but they were only because their…her maturing in age, none of them enough to hide or falsify that it was truly her.

-SNIKT-

The claws shot back in, and it was only then that Ororo’s eyes snapped to Logan’s hands, not only because of what Jubilee and Kitty had told her about the claws but also because the sound that came from their sliding in was different from the one she remembered.

“’Rrrr….” His torn green hospital gown barely hanging to his frame, the hulking Wolverine started towards the bed, towards the vision that had haunted him, all while forcing himself to form a comprehensible ‘human’ sound…that of her name. “’Rrro…”

Not trusting herself to respond vocally, Ororo numbly nodded in return and started to lift her arms to him…

…only to have a blast of red energy tear through him, sending him into flying into the far-side wall.

--

“NNNOOOOO…”

Lying half-prone on his back, Scott Summers gulped at the reaction his ‘saving’ move garnered…

KRRAKKA-BOOM!!

…instant ‘Indoor’ lightning show.

“Oh Shit!”

---

Note: Had planned to take this chapter further but the slump I have been experiencing for these past few weeks led me to wrap it up sooner, into a sort of ‘interlude’ before everything comes into the open.

Please Review!!

08. On Strike

Summary: The title has nothing to with the chapter or even what it is about. What it has to do with is me or rather my muses who (it seems) are finally ending or thinking of ending the strike they were on.

---

“Oh Shit!”

It had lasted all for a second but as far as Scott Summers, Cyclops was concerned, had it not been the physically manifested bright light, he would have sworn that it was his life flashing before his eyes and that he was seeing the light leading to the afterlife. It was only a timely ‘telekinetic’ pull yanking him away from the path of the lightning that saved him from a shock that he would have felt for quite some time…and remember for the rest of his life.

Just as one bolt came towards him, many others shot all over the infirmary, one of which shorted out the electricity thus plunging the entire room into darkness, with only the ‘EXIT’ signs providing illumination, that is until the backup generators kicked in fifteen second later. For the X-Men, especially the younger ones who had been on the mission that had brought them Wolverine, those fifteen seconds were the longest time period of their life, for not only did they knew and had seen what the Wolverine could do, they also knew that just one blast alone wouldn’t keep him down for long.

Thankfully, for them, unlike the soldiers at the base, they had one thing going for them…Ororo.

Shocked at her savage and seemingly involuntary attack and that too on one of her teammates, one of her friends, it took Ororo all but a second to rein in her powers, all while nearly falling over the bed in a panicked grapple to the other side, to Logan.

“Logan.” Slouched over as if unconscious, Wolverine’s head shot up at the barely audible whisper, just in time to see Ororo hobble towards him. Only a second earlier, allowing his body to heal, he was planning an attack plan on that one-eyed fucker, his redheaded bitch and everyone else in the room, but one look at Ororo and all that rage faded into the background.

‘’Ro.’ This time around there was no question in his mind. It was she and as clear by her garb and physical condition, just like him, she too was a prisoner of these people. He had to save her. Before anything else, he had to get her to safety…

…and then he would kill them.

---

On the other side of the room,

Even as Xavier and Jean telepathically as well as physically contained and calmed Scott, Hank had his hands full in keeping Gambit from breaking free and going to Ororo, or as the Doctor suspected what it would seem to the other feral in the room, going after her. Unable to break free, but still not ready to give up, Remy called out, “Stormy,” only to have his cry fall on deaf ears.

Preparing to use force to break free from Hank’s hold, the increasing agitated Remy just about lost when Ororo stumbled, her legs giving way under her…only to be saved by Wolverine who leapt up and grabbed her midair, whisking her away into his corner. If that surprised him (and the others), what happened next just about floored them.

“Stormy!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening at the way Ororo reacted towards her captor. Instead of breaking away or better yet, using her powers on him, she not only threw her arms around him, she also started bawling her eyes out.

No one present in the room had ever seen Ororo behave like this. Not Jean, after one of the countless nightmares she had witnessed her friend and the closest thing she had to a sister go through. Not Xavier, who had come to think of her as a daughter. Not even Remy, the one person who knew her better and longer than any one else in the school. No one. True, she had wept before, both while conscious or while asleep, but never had it been like this. As the lone empath of the group that was something, Remy could tell much better than the others could.

“Oh Logan…” ‘Logan! That be Logan?’ Remy could not believe his ears, and had he not been here at this moment, he would not have. Even now, having seen and heard Ororo’s reaction, he still was leaning towards chalking it up to the effects from the drugs coursing through her body. ‘Or maybe,’ he paused, ‘Maybe, she hit her head when she fall, an’ is not t’inkin’ clearly.’ Yes. That was the case. She must be experiencing of some sort of amnesia. ‘Yeah. Dat sound better.’


As for Logan, his calm demeanor lasted long enough to get Ororo close to him and to check her condition. Her wellbeing confirmed, he let his senses expand, stiffening the smell of medicines and medical disinfectants assaulting his nostrils. A lab! The assholes put her in friggin’ lab.

“Logan…” Sensing him tense under her, Ororo lifted her head to face him, stilling at Xavier’s voice in her head.

**Ororo. I sense rage building up within Wolv…within Logan.** Though calm, there was more than a subtle undercurrent of tension in Charles’s projection. Tension and fear. For himself as well as for the wellbeing of his students, those within the room and outside.

**Charles? What? How?** Ororo’s surprise and confusion sounded clear in her reply. **You can see…**

**No, I cannot. Projections. He seems to have taken you to be in danger…a prisoner here. We need to…**

**I need to get him out of here. Away from all of this.** Ororo did not even let him complete the thought. She knew of Logan’s intense dislike for just about anything medical and realized how the underground infirmary with Henry’s lab within it might be affecting him.

**Ororo?** Charles stuttered to a stop. Letting out the Wolverine into the open? In the mansion? The school? That too without anyone to sto-…observe him? Because Ororo definitely was in no physical condition to…

All those questions and more, stopped and remained unanswered, all of them drowning under the growl rising from the other end of them room, a -snikt- of metal claws.

“Logan.” Still grasping the man and being held in the Adamantium hold of one arm, Ororo gasped, both in surprise and from the pain of her wounds, at finding herself being lifted along with Wolverine.

“Logan!” She tried again, louder. Moving one hand to his face, she pulled it towards her, having to apply force to do so. “STOP!”

Loud enough to echo in the corridors, her outburst had the desired affect, both on the ready to attack Wolverine and the equally prepared to retaliate X-Men.

“Stop.” Barely above a whisper, the second time around, her plea was only for one person.

“Grrr…” though still growling at their ‘captors’, Wolverine’s attention was completely on Ororo, his grip, already with his fingers digging into her flesh becoming even harder.

“D-Don’t,” Ororo shook her head, using her free hand to gesture over her shoulder. “Don’t. They are…” Good. Family. Friends. Colleagues. To be left alive. Not to be gutted. Cool. Groovy. “…helping.” Yes. “They help.”

“H-Hu-Hel-l-p?”

“Yes. Yes, they help.” Thankful that even in his current condition she was able to get through to him, Ororo grasped at the opportunity and gestured towards the door, the one that led they out of the infirmary and more importantly, away from the X-Men. “There. Go there. Out.” She urged him, leaning in her weight towards the direction she wanted him to take.

Hesitating long enough to consider Ororo’s claim about Cueball and the others, even that fuckin’ One-Eye and his meddling bitch, Wolverine came to a complete halt as his senses confirmed that she had indeed spoken the truth.

Once again, putting his faith in his senses and more so in Ororo, Logan stepped back and sided towards the broken down door, all while keeping his stare on trained the X-Men, his claws still out and ready to retaliate against any untoward move by any of them, especially One-Eye.

Seconds later the two were out the door and gone, but not before Wolverine let out a warning roar, one that sent spikes of hard cold fear down the younger X-Men’s spines, as also their seniors.

---

Having withdrawn to her attic suite, neither Ororo nor Wolverine lasted for much longer before they succumbed to sleep, staying that way for the better part of a day.

Logan, even though he had healed enough to go (if need be) against the X-Men, his healing factor was stressed from the constant and extensive healing, both from his injuries at the hands of the soldiers and Wraith and from the injuries gotten at the hands of Cyclops and Forge. Nevertheless, he was more than ready to make a break for it and escape from the X-Fuckers. The only reason he remained here was Ororo. Heck, he could have even carried her away with him. It was only her words and the way her presence was embedded in her room that finally caused him to stop and let his guard down…a little. Not only was her scent everywhere in the room, as also on just about every other place they had crossed on their way here, its depth also showed that she had been for quite some time, months if not years.

Still, even with these calming factors, it would be quite some time before he allowed himself to give in to the fatigue clawing at him, definitely not before he made sure of Ororo’s wellbeing…before she went to sleep.

As for Ororo, the adrenaline rush that had propelled her off her bed in the infirmary, into Logan’s arms and caused her to lash out against Scott, soon trailed off, leaving her feeling incredibly tired…as she should have bee. Thanks to the blood transfusion from Angel, her wounds were healing properly and quite rapidly. However, it would be at least a week or two before she returned to full power, before the last remaining trails of injuries healed and smoothened away. Until then she would be off duty. Thanks to the last thought that Xavier had projected to her as she and Logan left the infirmary, she already knew that part, as also that no one would be disturbing them.

Even food and clothing (for Logan) was taken care off, made clear by the loaded trolley left at the foot of the steps leading up to her suite.

It would be nearly twenty-four hours before the duo saw anyone from the mansion. Unfortunately, that second meeting came within inches to becoming a near exact remix of the first one.

---

Waking up lying on her side, the first thing or rather person that Ororo saw was a pair of pitch black eyes staring intently at her. Sitting on the floor next to her bed, Logan…Wolverine had been keeping a vigil on her, both for the man within him as also the animal. Even in her sleepy state, it did not take Ororo long to realize who she had waken up to.

“Logan.” She raised one hand to his face, smiling softly at the way Logan leaned into her caress, a growling purr rising from his chest. Years of separation and the reaction was still the same. Except for the wild overgrown hair and beard, it was as if nothing had changed.

“Rrrrr…” Logan climbed over the side. With one hand steadying him, the other reached forward to pull away the covers revealing Ororo naked except for the bandages body. As soon as they reached Ororo’s room, Logan had pulled off not only his but also her hospital gown, tossing the medical smelling tatters out one window. Seeing her bandages had elicited a snarl from him and for a second Ororo feared that he might take off after the X-Men, his looking over his shoulder and the -snikt- that announced the unsheathing of his claws only adding depth to that doubt.

She still wasn’t used to that -snikt-, just as she did not understand the metal, how it got there…on his bone claws.

“Logan.” A growl and nuzzling at her neck drew her back from her introspection, her hands automatically rising, one going to through his hair, the other grasping at his bare back.

“’Rrro…‘Ro.” Logan backed up, his eyes once again finding and holding hers. “’Rrorro,” he growled, his throat constricting at the scratchy feeling that came from forming comprehensible sounds, human sounds…human words.

“Yes.” Still on her back, Ororo jerked her head, nodding shakily as tears welled up within and escaped from her eyes. He was back. He was back and he remembered her. Her. He was back.

“’Rrruro.” Chanting the single word over and over again, Wolverine leaned in, drawing closer to breathe deeply at the valley of her breasts, reveling in her earthy scent. One deep breath and his senses, already buzzing, went into overdrive. Long buried memories pulled up and flung against the present, mixed to confirm and strengthen each other.

Earthy. Fresh rain. The slightest hint of ozone. All her…All Ororo.


Ororo knew what he was doing. He always did this, even in her dreams. He was refreshing his memories of her scent, updating them. He did this just as other people memorized faces and other physical features.

“Uhn…Logan,” she moaned as he turned sideways, rubbing his stubble against on one breast, its nipple rising up in response to his caresses. “Lo-Logan…” even though physically she was in no condition, Ororo moaned at the wetness pooling between her legs, her body rising up to arch against him. It had been so long, so many years since she felt another body against hers this way…since she felt him this way. So long and just one touch from him, it was as if no time had passed at all. It was as if they were back to where they used to be...how they used to be.

“Logan.” Her entire body was on fire, his mere touch converting years of ache into hot, raw desire. Threading her long fingers into his thick raven hair, she pulled him nearer trying to maximize the touching. There could be none other. No one. Only him. Only Logan.

“Lie with me.” She murmured, and even though he did not say anything in response, other than the growl of her name, Wolverine did seem to comprehend and follow her lead, understanding that she needed to heal. One last deep breath and caress at her midsection and he started to lie down beside her, drawing her up to fit alongside him…only to freeze mid move, his face draining of all its softness.


“GRRR…” Ororo’s eyes widened as Wolverine leapt off the bed, his metal claws extending, ready to attack.

“What happened?” She called from the bed, wincing as she pushed herself up into sitting up. She knew his stance well. He was sensing danger and from the direction he was facing, it was coming both from the balcony.

“Logan,” she tried again. Moving sideways, she let her legs dangle over the side of the bed and rose up gently. “Logan…what is it?” she whispered softly so as not to startle him, set him. “Who is it?” Her balcony was well above the ground to make it near unapproachable by just anyone. Whoever it was…

“Red eyes.” ‘Scott?! What is-’ “Trench coat.”

Remy.


“Oh.” Ororo seemed relieved and angry at the same time. She did not appreciate having her...their, her and Logan’s, privacy disturbed, not even by Remy.

“Let me,” she stepped forth. “I will take care of it.” Laying one hand over his forearm, she slowly weighed his hand down to his side. “Please put the claws away,” she urged, knowing well that he would not. Until he made sure that they were not in any danger, his claws would remain unsheathed. The deep growl she felt reverberating through their connection confirmed her thoughts.

“Very well,” she conceded, “then let me talk. Okay?”

A tight nod answered her this time around, even if eyes never left the open balcony door.


“Remy.” Ororo called out loudly. “Come out. I-We know you are there.”

Sure enough, there was a slight rustling and the auburn haired mutant dropped from the roof, immediately crouching in an attack position, his eyes flashing in anger as three glowing cards grasped between his fingers. Ororo. Stormy. His Stormy. His best friend and sister, naked, with the Wolverine. ‘De beastie must ‘ave forced himself on her.’

“Remy, what are you doing here?” Ororo asked, trying to move away and grab a bed sheet from the bed. However, Wolverine’s hand stopped any movement. He was on ‘All Alert’ and until the danger was over, he wasn’t going to let go of her.

Remy narrowed his eyes at the possessiveness of the Wolverine. No one did that to Ororo. She let no one. Not that anyone dared. “Remy came to check on ‘is Stormy. ‘e was worried.” He tone softened just a bit only to harden again at his next words. “An’ from what Remy see, ‘e was correct. Come ‘ere Stormy.”

‘Stormy?’ Logan’s interest piqued.

“Logan. You need to let go,” Ororo whispered at his ear. “My clothes. I need-” was all she got out before, his attention drawn to her unclothed state, Logan whirled back, grabbed a bed sheet and wrapped it around her. Stepping between her and the other man, he snarled, his lips curling to reveal his sharp canines.

Just when it looked when things would take a turn for the nasty, a knock sounded at the door.

--

“S-Storm. Ms. Monroe.” Kitty Pryde’s young voice sounded from the other side, the crack in it clearly indicating her nervousness. Even though the Professor had said otherwise, she was still wary of the Wolverine attacking her…even with Storm there.

Not a couple of minutes ago she was sitting down for breakfast, only to have the Professor send her here to check up on Ms. Monroe and invite her and Mr…uh, Wolverine to join them for breakfast. Why she had to hurry up was a mystery to her.

“Remy, put the cards away.” Wrapping the bed sheet around her, she inserted its end in the front. “Remy. NOW.”

Her tone was stern, commanding, succeeding in getting Gambit to lower his raised hand, the cards losing their fluorescent glow.

“Now. Open the door. Please.”

---

Note: Finally got out the ‘Stuck in Limbo’ update out for this too. Had been stuck with this one for almost a month. Hope that the next one won’t be as long in coming. As for the abrupt ending of this chapter, it is deliberate and no it’s not another one of those cliffhangers that I seem to use…well, almost always.

Next, Ororo and Logan. Yes. But Storm and Wolverine?

09. Thin Air

Summary: The X-Men learn more about their guest and Ororo’s fears come forth.

---

That evening,

Charles was tired, tired with a capital-T. With over forty-eight hours since his last proper sleep, he was infinitely thankful to the meditation techniques he had learned in his youth, for it was only due to that that he was able to exercise his fatigued mind as well as ‘tweak’ his cerebral sensors to help him stay awake and alert. Well, that and the seventh cup of tea he had had since morning.

However, even with all that meditation and all that tea, he was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain his balance and more importantly, keep powers and more importantly, his temper, reined in. It would be so easy, easier than taking candy from a child. Not even a couple of seconds, just one simple psychic burst and he could…

“I don’t give a damn who she thinks he is.”

…make Scott shut up.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately (for Scott), his mentor’s patience, especially with him, was almost limitless. In the decade and a half that he had spent under his roof, under his care, Charles had grown to think of the boy, the man, as his son. It was by virtue of that relation an the privileges it brought with it that Scott was able to behave…well, currently he was behaving less like a man and more than an obstinate child, one in severe need of a ‘time out’.

--

“I don’t give a damn who she thinks he is.”

Scott yelled as he paced in the office. His face, flush with anger borne from equal parts worry and equal parts wounded pride, was as red as his eyes. Worry for Ororo. Wounded pride over the way Wolverine cleaned the floor with them…with him, and that too on their home ground.

Among those present in the room, other than Charles and Scott himself, no one ventured an answer. Hank was busy, or at least making himself appear as such, poring over the printouts from the information that Forge and Gambit had ‘procured’ for the Professor. Gambit was sitting ramrod straight his arms crossed at his chest, a deep frown etched on his face. He knew why he was here. It wasn’t because he was one of the senior X-Men, (which he wasn’t) or because he was doctor, (no luck there either). He was here just for one simple reason - to keep him from going after Ororo, after Wolverine. In fact, he was still sulking over Xavier’s sending in Kitty to Ororo’s room in the morning.

“Scott-” her fingertips kneading her forehead, Jean started to interjected in an effort to placate her boyfriend, stopping short at the knock at the doors. A quick ‘glance’ and both she and Xavier identified the person on the other side.

‘What is she doing here?’ Jean’s brow furrowed in worried confusion. Even though she knew about the kick that Warren’s transfused blood would give to Storm’s healing, the doctor as well the friend in her worried about Ororo.

“Come in please,” a bit surprised and equally worried, Xavier replied aloud, giving Henry a quick tap on the forearm to draw his attention to the new entrant.

“Wuh-Huh…” Lost in the data he had been perusing, and with each new page hoping that most of it was false and more importantly unsubstantiated, the blue furred Beast look up. “Oh.” As soon as he saw who it was, he plastered a smile on his face, a smile so wide that it threatened to split his face in face. A smile that for those who knew him would be a clear give away of his efforts at hiding something, something that would most probably not be nice.

“Good evening everyone.” Pushing one-half of the double doors open, Ororo hesitantly made her way into the room. Even though her bandages were visible sticking out from under her covered shoulder and bare arms, the returning glow on her face clearly reflected her recovery. The new clothes and the absence of dried blood, both on her face and her look all that much better, healthier.

“Ororo.” Pushing her chair back, Jean started towards her friend and teammate, only to have to lean aside to avoid getting bowled over by the trench coat garbed Cajun that barreled past her.

“Stormy.” Covering the distance in three long steps, Remy all but threw his arms around Ororo, stopping at the last second as the light bulb of commonsense lit up within him. Even though she looked better, Storm was still to be handled with care. ‘Not like how de beastie was behaving towards her.’

Pushing the jibe down he stepped to Ororo’s side and let an arm slide around her waist, drawing her closer while assisting her in traverse the remainder of the distance to the plush sofa he had been occupying prior to her arrival.


As soon as she was seated, Ororo found herself mobbed by the twin mother geese in the room, namely Jean and Hank. Always ready with a stethoscope, Henry started with the preliminary physical inspection while Jean retrieved the emergency med-kit from its storage space. Seemingly, not to be left behind, Xavier conducted his own psychic read. In the hub-hub, no one noticed the still sulking Scott or his staring at the sheath of pages on Xavier’s desk

‘She left him alone.’ Even though he too worried about Ororo’s wellbeing, Scott was, at the moment, about her having left Wolverine unguarded and for all purposes, free. Free to roam about. In the school. Amongst the students. ‘She left him alone.’

Even before he could stop himself, “Where is Wolverine?” the semi-accusatory question was out of his mouth.

Perhaps it was Scott’s tone, or the feet apart arms crossed at his chest pose he was standing in, or that as soon as he spoke, everyone else strained to attention, or maybe just a mixture of the three, it took Ororo all of two seconds to grasp the tension in the room. Draped away on her entering the room, Scott’s words had yanked the covers off it.

Taking in everything, Ororo took her time with her response. “Who?” She deliberately chose not to answer to the name Wolverine.

“Where is Wolverine?” Scott repeated himself, stressing on the codename.

“Logan…” Ororo corrected him. “…is asleep.”

“Where?” Having straightened up to facing Scott, Jean frowned at the interrogative feel.

“In my room.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“You left him…alone?”

Tensing by the second, Ororo’s eyes widened and then narrowed at the disbelief in Scott’s last return. What was wrong with him? What was going on her before her arrival? Were they talking about Logan?

Taking her eyes off Scott, she looked to the pensive Xavier. “What is going on here?”

“Ororo-” Xavier began.

“You left him free?” Even Remy flinched at that.

“Scott!” Jean exclaimed, both at Scott’s words and at the sudden weather change visible outside the window. Although Ororo seemed outwardly calm, both telepaths as well as Remy had sensed the unsettled nature of her thoughts and emotions, all tied into Wolverine. The evening sky, clear a few seconds ago had grown more unpleasant and foreboding with each passing comment from Scott, something he wasn’t paying attention to.

“No Jean.” He still wasn’t paying attention. “She needs to answer for her actions. You saw what he did to Forge. He won’t be able to stand let alone walk for at least a week. That anima-”

KKRRAKA-BOOM!!

This time he did react, jerking back startled at the loud boom of thunder.

“He. Is. Not. An. Animal.” Ororo’s eyes turned milky, as if as a conduit to the anger brimming over from inside her. “He is a mutant…just like you and me.”

Scott tried to speak again but this time around, Jean telekinetically clamped his mouth shut.

“Ororo.” Xavier’s deep soothing voice sounded again. He had sensed Ororo’s emotional mood and did not want to do anything to that would ruffle her further. Her acting this way was something new for him too.

At the professor’s voice, Ororo seemed to draw back and even though her eyes retained the barest hint of white, her face did regain its stoic look. The storm outside continued to rage, a clear sign of the storm brewing inside the weather goddess.

“Scott.” Charles turned towards the under duress Cyclops. “Please. Sit. Down.”

A tight nod and Scott sat down next to Jean, scowling at her as his furrowed brow mirroring his crossed arms.

“Ororo” the professor smiled at her. “From what we have seen, you know Wolv…Logan personally.”
“Very.”
“He is someone…” he paused. ‘Better stop beating around the bush and get it out in the open.’ “Am I correct in assuming that Logan is the same one in your…that is the logan from your past.”
“Yes.”

Jean sensed that talking to the Professor was helping her friend regain control of her emotions. She too had never seen Ororo put forth so many and so intense emotions. The only time she came even close to these levels was during her nightmares and even that could not match her responses to the real person. It was unnerving to see her like this.

--

“I know this is a part of your life that…” Xavier was treading cautiously, so as not to alarm his erstwhile student and present team leader. “Would you mind telling us about your experience with Logan?”

“NO!” Ororo’s first reaction, a blunt as brick one, was in the negative. “Not all of it.” She amended her second response. “Not yet. I need time…” the ‘to talk it over with Logan,’ remained unsaid.

“Very well.” Xavier smiled at her. “I understand it has been a taxing few days for all of us, especially you and you need time to recover. However, there are a few questions…it would be helpful if you would answer them.”

At Ororo’s nod, Charles asked his first question. “When did you first meet Logan?” he took care of using Logan and not Wolverine.
“Eight years, three months…” Ororo answered. “…and eleven days.”

‘Eight years?’ A quick mental calculation and Xavier asked his second question. “How old were you when you first met him?”
“Seventeen years and a few odd months old.”

“How old was he then?” This question has a hidden purpose, that to confirm the information in the classified files lying a few feet away.
“I don’t know.” Ororo asked frankly.

“He didn’t tell-” Scott started to interrupt. ‘Ugh,’ he winced as Jean elbowed his ribs and gave him a ‘one more word and you’re dead’ look.
“No, he did not tell me how old he was,” Ororo answered without looking at him. “He did not remember it…” time around, ‘because of his previous tortures,’ trailed silently.


Perceptively, Charles did not pursue that line of questioning. Instead, he asked, “Approximately how old did he look?”
“Almost as old as he looks now.” By now both Ororo’s voice and the weather conditions had simmered down to normal “Exactly the same.”

“How can that be?” Unable to contain her own curiosity, Jean piped up. “How can he look the same? He must have aged?”

Ororo seemed unwilling to answer her question, seemingly arguing with herself about if and how to respond. “He…doesn’t age,” she finally came out. “Not like us.”

“Doesn’t age?” Hank spoke up for the first time. He had read about it in the files, but to have it actually confirmed by Ororo, by someone who had experienced it first hand…the scientist in leapt up.

“His healing factor?” Charles murmured.

Ororo merely nodded her head.

“Healing Factor?” questioned Jean. She had seen Wolverine’s healing factor working, but did not know about its strength or to what extent it healed him. Had she had enough time to read the files, she too would have learned about Wolverine’s healing capabilities and how far had his captors had gone in finding its limits.

“Yes Jean,” flipping open one of the files, one that only he and Hank had read so far, Xavier slid it across the table. Jean picked and opened it.

Silence reigned in the room as both Jean and Scott went through the page that the Professor had opened the file to. Their eyes widened as they looked towards each other, both equally astonished and sickened by the data and pictures before him.

“Professor, according to this…” Jean began.

“Yes Jean. Wolverine…Logan’s age is unknown, even to those who had captured him. As you might see, one of the photographs is from the Second World War. Look to the person in the top right corner.” He waited as Jean fingered through the various photographs to arrive at the correct one.

“H-How…” her green eyes further widened as she recognized the person in the black and white photograph.

“As you can see, the soldier in the picture is the same person we have under our roof. Even though he appears to be a few years younger, it is Logan. Not even a father-son could have this close a resemblance, no one except for twins.” A quick glance to gauge Ororo’s reaction, or in her case, the lack there of, and he continued. “I suspected it earlier, but Ororo’s words just confirmed my suspicions. Mr. Logan fought in the Second World War as a soldier in the Canadian Army, Special Forces.”

The room’s occupants were silent as the information sunk in. If the professor was correct, which it seemed he was, that would mean that Wolverine was at least eighty-five years old, maybe older.

“Professor,” a visibly calmed Scott wondered. “Do we know how old he exactly is?”

“No Scott.” Xavier shook his head. “Even the oldest records, both from the lab and from the files that Gambit and Forge obtained, they only go back to the Second World War. Anything before that, including Logan’s complete name and age, it was all a mystery, even to the people at the-.”

“Not complete, his real name,” Ororo’s soft words silenced everyone present.

“His real name?” Thankfully, by now Scott had calmed enough to restrain himself from cutting in on Xavier’s query. “Isn’t Logan is real name?”

“No. No, he…” Ororo shook her head. “He is not sure.”

“What do you mean?” This time Scott did speak, though, unlike before, his words here were more of a real concerned question and less of an accusation.

“Th-This…” Ororo sighed suddenly feeling very tired. Years old memories, ones those she had tried her best to both bury and cherish, were being pulled out now and even though speaking about it would help her lessening the plain, this therapeutic session was anything but easy.

A deep breath and she spoke. “This is-this wasn’t the first time that Logan was captured…tortured.”

Instead of a blunt, ‘we know that,’ Xavier answered her revelation with a simple ‘yes’. The files and records, the sheer detail in them as how back into the past they went, it was clear that the Wolverine was a much-valued commodity. “But the name? How does that tie into this?” After all, nowhere in any of the records was there a mention of any other name, or parents or any other family. For all purposes, the man named Logan had popped up fully-grown, seemingly out of thin air.

“The first-,” did she even know whether the previous time had been the first, when even Logan wasn’t sure about how many times this had happened to him. “The last time he was captured and then broke free, Logan lost all of his memories. He lost everything, even his name.” All present noticed that once again the weather outside had taken a turn for the ominous. “Even the one he remembered, Logan, he wasn’t sure whether it was his or…”

“Or?” Jean urged fearfully, unsure if she wanted to know the answer to it.

“Or…if it was the name of one of his captors.” A subdued sniffle and Ororo’s finger rose to wipe against her eyes.

“’Roro,” In an instant Gambit was at her side. “Stormy.”


“They hurt him so much,” Ororo looked up, her eyes bloodshot but defiant. “They did such unspeakable things to him…they even took away who he was. He had to relearn everything. Every single thing that makes us who we are, that we take for granted, speaking, reading, living as a society, even knowing ourselves as mutant or human, he had to relearn everything. He lost everything. I-I fear…” her voice broke again.

Even though both telepaths had already caught her projections, they patiently waited for Ororo to speak them aloud on her own.

“I fear that-that it may have happened to him again. He could have forgotten…” me.

‘Forgotten us.’

---

Note: Whew. Finished finally. I had gotten so fed up of this one that I was just going to leave it as what I had written for the comic-verse story. However, seeing as movie Logan isn’t the same as his 616 MU version, there had to be quite a few changes. Took a little from the Ultimate-verse and then stirred in a lot of my own craziness. Hope it worked out.

Next…So, does he remembering anything, or is it Mr. Clean-Slate Logan?