It was unusual for it to rain that time of year in Cairo. However, on that night it poured, causing the two children running down a back alley to slip and stumble through the puddles; soaking their thin clothing. Everyone else in the city was sleeping, holding their small children safe and sound. However these two had no parents to hold them tight. Both orphaned at a young age, they didn’t have a loved one to care for them. The young boy and girl ran hand in hand as fast as they could through the weather. The white haired, ebony skinned girl was leading her darker skinned friend through the weather; she wasn’t afraid of the thunder and lightning. In a way it refreshed her; a sort of comfort. She led the other with no fear, trying to find shelter on the stormy night.

A man’s voice called out to them and they rushed inside a smaller shack supported by fencing and tents. It was a thief’s house and they knew it, but these two were no strangers to raiders and robbers. They made their own living off of other people, mostly tourists. Still, they were children and thieves weren’t heartless: they gladly took the two inside and gave them blankets to dry off with. The man who had rescued them was in his late twenties and wore a more sophisticated garb than most street runners. Next to him were two teenage girls; their ebony skin flawless and faces unscathed, but their eyes told a different story.

“What can I do for you?” he asked in his native language.

“We are looking to get out of the storm,” whispered the boy, his eyes never leaving the man’s pistol- another tribute to how rich he was for a street rat.

“What’s your name child?” He game a smile to the girl with him.

“Malaka. This is Ororo.” For the first time the man got a good look at the young girl who couldn’t be any older than twelve. Her beauty, however, oust the two eighteen year olds on either side of him. Sure she had a pretty face but her hair and eyes entranced him. The white hair was jagged, as if it had been sloppily cut short at some time then grown long again and those blue eyes pierced his dark ones. There was something else about her that felt similar.

“Wait here a while,” he said, leaving them alone. Another woman in her late forties gave them a bit to eat: stale bread and soup. After eating, Malaka and Ororo were ushered to the man again, but this time there was another man with him.

“My brother,” he said. The brother was not near as handsome nor as friendly. He whispered something intently to his brother who smiled. “Come with me, Ororo.”

“Not without Malaka,” she said stubbornly. She didn’t like the way he said her name- as if he were playing with the syllables.

“My brother will take Malaka to get a new change of clothes.” The boy’s eyes lit up and Ororo’s mouth gaped open. Did he welcome all of his guests this way? Clothes, especially new ones, were hard to come by on the street.

“Come this way,” whispered the man once his brother had taken Malaka away. He placed a hand on her shoulder guiding her into a tented room. The only thing in it was a makeshift bed. Ororo stiffened at the door, now regretting letting Malaka leaver her side. They protected each other and now she was alone with a strange man.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. You are going to be a good girl. Just lay down now. You should be honored to have my children.” She paled several shades and started to pull away.

“No…no…”

“Get on the bed.” She shook her head wildly, her white hair cascading down her slender shoulders. The man removed the pistol from his belt and she scampered to the bed. “Now. Take off your clothes.”

“Please no!” she whimpered.

He cocked the gun and reached for her worn shirt. After a bit of a struggle and protesting screams from her, she was completely his. Ororo begged him the entire time to stop, gasping in pain, fighting with all the might her twelve year old body could muster. Finally she got a hand free from underneath his pounding body and grabbed his face. A flash of light and a loud clap of thunder threw him away from her. He screamed in agony and she could smell the singed flesh. She grabbed her clothes and fled into the night; her tears pouring down as hard as the rain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Storm?” asked a concerned voice.

“Storm, wake up!” came another.

Ororo Munroe rolled over on the couch she had been sleeping on. She remembered sitting down to watch the news after the kids had gone to bed and she must have fallen asleep. Standing beside the couch were Kitty and Rogue. Both wore concerned faces with a hint of pity while staring at their teacher.

“What time is it?” she asked, wiping her eyes, finding them wet with tears. Now she knew what her fellow X-Men were worried about.

“About two-thirty in the morning,” answered Rouge.

“Yeah, we were getting some ice cream-”

“At two-thirty?” asked Storm, raising an eyebrow. Kitty kept on talking like she didn’t hear her.

“-when we came by here and heard you moaning about something in your sleep. Then we noticed you were crying and well we didn’t know what to do really. So we decided you were probably having a bad dream. Rogue said to just let you sleep, but I was like, no we have to wake you up. Then-”

“Kitty, she gets the point,” said Rouge, placing a cured hand on Storm’s shoulder. “What she’s trying to ask is are you okay?”

“Yeah, everyone deals with grief differently and you haven’t really-” Kitty shifted uncomfortably in her slippers as she searched in vain for the right word to use. Ororo sighed. They thought she had been dreaming of Jean and Scott or Charles Xavier. She would trade this nightmare for one about them any day.

“I’m fine girls, thanks for asking. Just a bit of a bad dream.” This seemed to satisfy Kitty who bounced off to bed, but Rogue still looked suspicious. Nevertheless both left the weather witch to her thoughts and went to back to bed. Ororo laid her head back down and took several deep breaths. It had been a while since she had that particular dream. Actually it was a memory- one of the ones she had tried to forget. It wasn’t long after that time in her life that she learned English and was found by Charles. He had helped her get over her strong distrust of men, proving that not all men would hurt her.

Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the man who had rescued her- whose shoes she was trying to fill. Charles had asked her to take his place and she put her everything into his school and the team. Of course she wasn’t alone, but it was still a lot of weight to bear.

“You wanna talk about it?” a familiar growl came from the door of the entertainment room. Logan stayed at the school more than away these days and had even taken up teaching a few stray classes here and there. Ororo was grateful for his overbearing presence most days.

“It’s nothing, Logan.” She stood up stretching her back from the uncomfortable couch. “I’ll just be going up to my room.”

“You’re not gettin’ off that easy, Storm. We’ll discuss this in the morning.” He sat down on the couch she just was occupying and flipped on the television.

Ororo rolled her eyes and began to leave, not before adding, “Since when did the vicious Wolverine become so concerned?”

“Ever since you needed me to be,” muttered Logan to no one in particular.

A knock on the door brought Logan slowly to his feet. Everyone else was at lunch so he would have to get the door. Usually he just let some over-excited kid race to the door to open to whatever stranger might be on the other side. It always amazed him at the lack of fear in most of the students here. What also amazed him was that someone was calling on them today. They were not expecting anyone so that meant one of two things: a new student or trouble. Occasionally the two went hand in hand but Ororo was trying to get him to become more optimistic. He told her that he was optimistic about being a pessimist for the rest of his life.

When he finally opened the door he got quite a shock. Before him stood an older man and a young girl, both of African descent. The man had a scar on the side of his face that severally mutilated his features. Logan placed it as a burn though it was a strange shape, only touching half of his face and did not extend beneath the jaw. The girl was a bout fourteen and her hair was cut short to bring out her exquisite cheek bones and eyes.

“Can I help you?” Logan slumped against the doorframe. No matter how long he had been ‘civilized’, intimidation always seemed to get the job done.

“I came to speak with Ororo Munroe.” His speech was highly accented. Logan merely shrugged.

“She’s servin’ lunch right now. What do you need from her?”

“I must speak to her. She does not know me but I am a friend of an old friend of hers from Africa.” Logan frowned. Ororo never talked about her home or that part of her past.

“Logan, who is it?” Storm rounded the corner, trying her hands with a towel. She smiled at the guests and with a wave welcomed them. “Come in. We haven’t managed to teach Logan any manners.”

“They wanted to speak to you,” he grunted, ignoring her jab. “Say they know some friends of yours from Africa.” He saw her eyes darken for a moment, but she guided the two off the doorstep with a smile.

“What may I help you with?”

“My name is Kuhio Da and this Iqadi Erevu. I believe you knew her father, Malaka Erevu?” This rendered Ororo speechless for a moment, so Kuhio continued. “Iqadi is a mutant, as am I. She can control water, but has been having trouble keeping control of her…emotions.”

“And you?” asked Wolverine.

“I am a lie detector. And I have the ability to…fabricate the truth.”

“A professional liar.”

“Logan,” scolded Ororo. “You said Malaka is your father?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Iqadi’s English was not near as matured at Kuhio’s was. “But he left about a month ago.”

“Left?” asked Ororo, confused. When the girl looked at her feet, she turned her attention back to Kuhio.

“Perhaps we can discuss this elsewhere?” Kuhio looked at Iqadi nervously, his hand stroking the tie he wore with his suit.

“Of course. Logan, if you could please go cancel my afternoon classes, I would appreciate it.”

“Humph.” Logan glared once more at Kuhio before turning away.

“This way to my office.” She led them quietly through the hallways. Iqadi had said nothing besides when asked a direct question and her silence worried Ororo. Kuhio on the other hand was highly confident and she knew that he came off a bit arrogant to Wolverine. It made her smile to think he now had competition for being the alpha male around here.

“Malaka had a hard time dealing with the death of his wife earlier this year,” started Kuhio, once they were seated in her office. The same one Professor Xavier had used earlier. “Iqadi’s…gift was difficult for him to handle. He brought her to me, telling me about the only other mutant he had ever known- you. I had some friends locate you and when I found out that you worked at a school for mutants I was overjoyed.” Even with his accent, Kuhio’s English was precise and proper.

“I would be happy to help,” said Storm smiling. Underneath though, she was still confused. The Malaka she knew would have never abandoned his daughter- not after his childhood as an orphan. “Will you be staying here as well?”

“For a while, if that is alright with you. I don’t want to leave her here alone. I am all she has left.” Ororo nodded walking over to them.

“I’ll get you both a room.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You don’t trust him do you?” Rogue brushed a strand of silver hair from her face as she took a seat next to Logan on a bench in the gardens.

“Why would I? He’s a mutant who lies for a living. I can’t believe Ro’s buyin’ this crap.” Rogue shrugged, swinging her legs and staring intently at a rose bush. “What’s wrong kiddo?”

“You seem different lately.”

“I told you. What happened at Alcatraz ain’t gonna affect me being there for you.” She rolled her eyes.

“Actually, that’s not what I meant. This ain’t the ‘I’m so depressed’ different. It’s more lika ‘I’ve actually gotta life’ difference.” Wolverine lit a cigar, completely perplexed by what she just said. “You know you’re not supposed to smoke that at school.” He rolled his eyes and put it out.

“Is that all you wanted? To give me a lecture about what a good boy I’ve been,” he smirked. Rogue shook her head.

“She brings out the best in you, ya know?” Logan stared at her dumbfounded for a moment.

“Yeah? And what makes you say that?”

“You’ve stayed here for more than three months now. You actually seem to care about the students here and you’ve laid off on trying to scare the hell outa Bobby.”

“I’ve always cared. And what would you do without me if I left,” he joked. “Oh, and we need to have a talk about that boyfriend of yours. Boys only have one thing on their minds-”

“Logan! Shut up! Be serious,” she placed a hand on his knee. “You know it would make Jean happy to know that the two people she cared about the most were happy.” With that Rogue got up and left the Wolverine to his thoughts.

Ororo watched from her window as Hank McCoy and Iqadi walked to a fountain in the gardens. The Beast had offered to work with the young girl first since Storm was busy with running a school. Private lessons were hard to fit into an already tight schedule, but at some point she’d make the time. Although, as mush as she would like to speak with Malaka’s daughter, she couldn’t help but be almost scared. She had abandoned Malaka and hadn’t seen him since that stormy night.

“Uh, Ro?” A knock came from the doorway and Logan sauntered in without waiting for her to invite him.

“I was just finishing up some paperwork.” She slipped some papers back into a manila envelope. “Hank is working with Iqadi today.”

“You sent the poor girl off with the big blue fur ball?” laughed Wolverine. “Doesn’t he kinda scare little kids?”

“She’s not little, Logan.” Below them Iqadi was drawing the water out of the fountain with grace. “Did you need something?”

“Eh, not particularly.” He walked over to the window to stand next to her, stepping in a bit closer than he normally would have. She didn’t seem to notice.

“I guess you want to know who Malaka is?” Her blue eyes never left the blue man and black girl playing in the fountain below.

“I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready.”

“I lost my parents when I was six years old. We were attacked and I was buried under the rubble of our home. There were no rescue crews of search teams in my neighborhood back then. If it hadn’t been for Malaka, I might have died there.” Her voice was calm and stead- she didn’t want to give in to the emotions she was feeling. “He had already lost his parents and had been living as a pickpocket on the streets. He was looting when he found me in the rubble. Only seven years old and already a life saver. We became a team.” This time her voice caught and Logan placed a concerned hand on the small of her back.

“You don’t have to tell me, Ro,” he whispered. She only shook her head and cleared her throat.

“We became a team. It’s hard to make it on the streets at such a young age, but we did. By some kind of miracle we did. You could call us a twisted child version of Bonnie and Clyde. We were good at what we did.”

“What happened?” Storm couldn’t bring herself to tell him about the rape or anything of that night.

“I left. I left him alone and never looked back. Charles found me and brought me here…I just…” This time she let her tears overtake her. “I left him.”

“Shhh…It’s ok. I’m here- I’ve gotacha. Hold on darlin’.” Ororo collapsed into his arms and they both sank to their knees. She cried for her childhood, for her innocence, and for Malaka. Logan just held on. He knew he made the wrong choice in Jean. He was attracted to the competition for her attention, to her vulnerability. With Ororo he loved everything about her. Her hair, eyes, laugh, tears, and attitude. He was in love with the weather witch. And she thought he couldn’t love her because he still was holding on to Jean and that broke his heart. He had to show her how much he cared.

They stayed like that for a while, just clutching to each other for something they thought they couldn’t reach. They could hear the sounds of the students laughing down the hall and causing all kinds of chaos, but for once Wolverine did not yell or growl at them to behave and Storm did not desperately try to restore order. They just sat there holding on to each other. Finally Ororo pulled away.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I… Thank you,” she whispered, drying her wet face with her sleeve. Logan released his hold on her slowly.

“I didn’t know how much hell you got in that pretty head of yours.” She gave a weak smile, looking up at him from her awkward sitting position. “Just know you’re not alone, Ro.”

“Yeah. I know.” Her eyes were still staring into his with a yearning- a sort of longing. Logan couldn’t resist it any longer. His right hand brushed her cheek as the left one made its way to the back of her neck. Smoothly he pulled her face centimeters away from his- his breath steady against her lips. Then he waited. He had made his move, but he wanted to know she wanted this as much as he did. It almost surprised him when she closed the distance between them. Her lips brushed his with a gentleness that he had expected from her.

That kiss was what they bother desired. Ororo moved in closer, at the same moment allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. He was a wonderful kisser; better than any other man she had kissed before. Although she didn’t want it to end, her body was screaming for air, so she released, letting her heartbeat steady.

“Ororo, I…” For once with a woman, Logan didn’t know what to say. She placed a finger on his lips and rested her forehead on his chest.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” she breathed. “Because you can back out now if there’s a chance you just want someone and don’t truly care.” Her face remained buried in his chest, but she let her fears be heard. Storm knew she could not take any heartbreak right now. Logan wrapped his arms around her protectively.

“I would never hurt you. I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t wanna be anywhere, but right here. Give me a chance, Ro,” he whispered into her white hair.

“I am…I am.” Ororo turned her head back up to his, their lips brushing again. Suddenly shouting could be heard from the hallway and thundering footstep echoed off the floor. Storm took a deep breath and waited. There is was- someone was pounding on her door.

“Ms. Munroe! Ms. Munroe! Jimmy hit Ryan in the head with a basketball and now they’re fighting on the court!” A girl’s frantic voice came from the other side of the door.

“And life goes on,” sighed Storm. Logan helped her to her feet and wiped away any remaining tears. With a smile, she left the office to restore peace to the children’s world.

Iqadi knocked softly on Storm’s door after dinner that night. She had spent the entire day with a blue furry man by the name of Dr. McCoy, whom she had showed off her water bending skills. At first she had been intimidated by the large man, but after a few minutes she found the man behind the beast. He had encouraged her and was a patient teacher. For once someone found her powers fun like she did. The only other person who loved water like she did was her father and that had changed. This was exactly why she was at the weather witch’s door tonight.

“Come in,” rang out a soft voice. Iqadi took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

“Iqadi! What a surprise! I was just about to come down and talk to you.” Ororo laid aside her work and got up from behind her desk.

“I need…” the young girl hesitated. She had not even expressed her fears to her Amu Kuhio and now she was going to tell a complete stranger. However, something in the back of her mind was telling her that she could trust Storm. After all, her father had told her stories about the white haired thief and referred to her as a friend. “I need help.”

“Whatever you need, I am here,” she said, leading the younger girl to the couch. Her blue eyes shone with concern. “What is bothering you?” Iqadi hesitated, not sure how to start.

“It’s my father…I think something is wrong.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. “Baba would never leave me, I know it. He loves me and my mutation. Something happened to him…it’s the only way he would ever leave me!”

“I don’t want to believe he would leave you either, my dear.” Ororo was surprised by her outburst. Before that, Iqadi had hardly said a sentence to her. “The Malaka I know would have never left you.”

“The last time I saw him, he kissed me goodnight and told he loved me. He did not say goodbye,” she added. “When I awoke the next morning Amu Kuhio was there and told me we were going to America and that Baba had left.”

“What do you think happened?” asked Ororo, calmly.

“About a week ago, some men came with Amu Kuhio. They talked where I could not hear them, but Baba was very upset afterwards. He kept hugging and kissing me and telling me what a good daughter I was and how proud of me he was…” Iqadi’s voice stopped, her eyes closed tightly. “It just does not make sense.” Ororo shook her head.

“Do you remember anything about the men who came to see your father?”

“They had snake tattoos- the same ones all over their left arms.” She shuddered. “I don’t like snakes.”

“I don’t blame you,” Ororo smiled, but in the next second turned very serious. “I can see if I can find out where Malaka is, but are you sure you want to do that?” The last thing this girl needed was to find out some dark secret about her father. Not that Storm expected something bad, but she did not know what life he led now.

“Yes, please,” Iqadi pleaded. Then after shooting a frightened look at the door, she motioned Storm closer, dropping her voice down to a small murmur. “I love Amu, but he is a liar. That is what his mutation is. Sometimes I do not know if he is lying or not. But Amu Kuhio can only make a lie successful if he can make the listener have no doubts. Most of the time, the lie flies right under the radar, but other times there are doubts.”

“You have doubts?”

“I think he knows where Baba is. He said he didn’t, but I heard him talking on the phone and he mentioned Baba’s name. But you see, the lie is trying to work its magic and I don’t even believe myself completely.” Her eyes were lost, trying desperately to make sense to the woman beside her. Kuhio’s power of lying was confusing and complicated.

“I promise to look into it, okay?” Ororo touched her hand to Iqadi’s cheek and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me.” Iqadi nodded and jumped off the couch, returning to her new room. Ororo however did not return to her work or bed, but rushed off to the labs in the lower floors of the mansion.

Storm checked her watch and swore. It was close to midnight. She needed to catch Hank McCoy before he went off to bed. If anyone could help her with this, it was him. A light was on in a far room and she breathed in relief. Hank was still up and operating. She did not bother knocking for once, but burst right into the room.

“Ororo? What brings you down here?” Hank took off his glasses and laid down the thick textbook he was reading.

“I need your help. Iqadi just came to me with some disturbing news.” She quickly relayed the conversation. “I need you to find those men.”

“You said they had snake tattoos?” Storm nodded and Hank frowned.

“What? Snake tattoos aren’t exactly unusual.”

“That’s true and hopefully this is simply coincidence. Two months ago I was alerted by the United Nations Mutant League that a mutant gang in Africa was causing quite the chaos. They call themselves Mwasi Nyoka.” Storm racked her brain for the English translation.

“Rebel Snakes.”

“Correct. Two brothers lead the group. One of them can detect mutants and their powers. We don’t know much about the other one.” Hank paused before rambling on. “Basically they are using his power to detect mutants in Africa and recruiting them to their cause. They are rebelling against the government for mutant superiority- a sort of Magneto thing, if you will. However, once the Mwasi Nyoka ask you to become a member, you don’t back out. They have taken many law-abiding citizens and either tortured them or their families until they complied with the Mwasi Nyoka’s cause.”

“Malaka isn’t a mutant.” Ororo pointed out, crossing her arms across her chest. She didn’t like the sound of a mutant gang.

“But his daughter is,” stated Hank matter-of-factly.

“You think that they could have possibly taken Malaka to get to Iqadi?” she gasped. The blue beast only nodded. “We have to find him.”

“The only way to do that is to go straight to the source, but it’ll be dangerous.” He laughed when he saw her eyes dance.

“Since when has danger scared or stopped any of us?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Wolverine, Beast, and Colossus sat aboard the X-Jet as it flew with ease towards the African coastline. They had left early that morning from the mansion in search of the Mwasi Nyokas. After a bit of arguing and fit throwing, they decided that only the three of them should go, as the rest would be taking or teaching classes. The only reason that Peter got to skip class was because they needed someone who was indestructible to watch the jet and he knew how to fly it. Hank had called a few of his friends and got an estimation of the location of the gang’s headquarters.

It was beautiful land they were flying over as they entered African airspace. The sort of sight that took your breath away with every bend of the earth. They landed just an hour off the coast where a small fort was built into the side of a cliff. Colossus stayed on the jet as Logan and Hank expertly entered without detection. It took only an hour to scour the small building and locate where the prisoners were kept.

Logan slid a claw down the side of the door and heard a satisfying click as the door swung open. Inside were cages full of people- mutants and non. The dirt floor had turned to muck in places and a stench hung in the air. They looked hungry, tired, and worse for the wear. Most had bruises and cuts from repeated beatings and interrogation. There were men nearing their sixties as well as children as young as four or five. It was heart-wrenching to see.

“See if you can break them all out,” he muttered to Beast, who nodded and picked up a random piece of rock and banged it against the first cage. After a few attempts, he released the woman and her child that were inside. Logan looked around wildly before finally asking, “Which one of you is Malaka Erevu?”

“I am,” came a feeble reply to his left. Sitting weakly on the ground was a dark-skinned man with bruises covering his face and lacerations to his torso. Logan slashed the lock off his cell.

“You’re comin’ with us.” The man did not look the least bit surprised or scared.

“What doya want wit me?” His English was nothing compared to that of his daughter and friend. “I willn’t break. You cannot have her.”

“Your daughter is safe, Mr. Erevu,” said Hank walking up beside Logan. All of the prisoners were free and fleeing for the door. “She is presently at the Xavier Institute in New York.” Seeing the look of confusion on the poor man’s face, Logan began to explain.

“Your friend Kuhio brought her to Ororo Munroe on your wishes.”

“Ororo…” he murmured her name in wonder. But then his bloodshot eyes clouded over. “Kuhio is no friend. No,” he shook his head in panic.

“What?” asked a shocked Wolverine.

“He will kill her…he wants revenge,” Malaka pushed himself off the floor with much effort, fear overtaking him.

“Trust us, your daughter is safe,” said Hank slowly, trying to comprehend what was going on.

“No, not Iqadi. Ororo. He is after Ororo.”

Ororo quickly finished brushing her teeth and threw some water on her tired face. No word yet from Logan, Hank, and Peter. Not that she really should expect any- it had hardly been twelve hours since they left this morning. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Storm knew she’d stay up for hours waiting on them.

At least she had something productive to do. Storm had been pondering over the kiss she had shared with Logan and the one he had secretly given her before he left to find Malaka. To be honest, she couldn’t believe he really could possibly lover her. There were only two things that were certain: she was madly in love with him and he was a fabulous kisser. The last thought made her smile to herself.

Storm heard her door creep open and she let out a deep sigh. Someone must have had a nightmare. Slipping a bath robe over her nightdress, she headed toward the bathroom door. To her surprise, her nighttime guest had already made it there.

“Excuse me, Ms. Monroe, but I have something to speak to you about.” Kuhio stood tall in the doorway to her bathroom.

“Kuhio, I didn’t…what are…what is it you need,” she stammered in shock.

“Sorry about the time, but I couldn’t have anyone overhearing.” He pulled the door shut and to Storm’s horror, twisted the lock. “I want to tell you a story.”

“Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable moving into my room,” suggested Ororo. The only exit of the small bathroom was through the door he had just locked.

“Surely this isn’t causing the claustrophobia to set is,” he smirked. Or at least tried. His damaged face only proceeded to make him look in pain.

“How do you know about that?” asked Storm suspiciously.

“Its all part of the story,” Kuhio said calmly. “Once upon a time, there was a handsome man who lived in Cairo. He had a beautiful face and all of the women wanted and loved him. There was only one thing that this man truly desired- a child. A beautiful, powerful son. You see, this man was a mutant and he wanted to marry another powerful mutant who could give him mutant children.”

“Kuhio, I have no idea where this is going…” whispered Storm, her heart pounding in her chest. Kuhio continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“One dark and stormy night, fate interfered. The rain brought him a white haired wonder. Not only was she a pure child, she was a mutant.” Ororo’s breath caught in her throat. “He wanted to lover her forever, but the little bitch had other ideas.”

“Oh, goddess.” She took a step back, only to find herself up against the sink.

“She used her powers to smite him. Her lightning burned the beautiful man’s face and ruined the rest of his life,” snarled Kuhio, taking a step towards her. “No one will look at me or touch me because of how ugly I am. People laugh and point at me on the street.” He closed the distance between them.

“Get away from me,” gasped Ororo, drawing herself into a fighting stance.

“But I told poor little Malaka how you sold him to me. I became his confidant and he told me all about you. Your likes and dislikes; all of your fears. Are you still scared, Ororo?”

“You lying bastard.” He reached out to touch her face, but she caught his hand, twisting it so she could shove him into the mirror. It shattered all over the floor.

“This is a small room and all your nightmares are closing in on you.” He plucked a piece of glass out of his hand. She still could not make it to the door. “Because you lose control when you are boxed in- sometimes your powers even fail you, don’t they?”

“Your mind games won’t work on me,” she spat back, trying to calm herself down. He was right- the bathroom was small.

She made a sudden break for the door, only to have her own arm twisted back. Falling to the ground, Ororo heard her arm snap and felt an electrifying pain shoot through her body. The scream that escaped her lips was muffled by his attempt to climb on top of her to hold her down. However, a large gust of wind blew him back. Storm scrambled for the lock, but just as she touched it, his large arm encircled her neck.

She elbowed him in the groin, but all that accomplished was to send them both spiraling down into the bath tub. Clearly Kuhio had been taught how to fight on the streets, but he had forgotten so had she. She arched her back quickly, slamming her head into his chin and was met with a satisfying crunch. He yelped, blood spraying all over the two of them.

Ororo tried to get up, but the only thing within reach was the shower curtain and it came tumbling down on top of them. In confusion, Kuhio rolled on top of her, but this time she was ready- kicking out, she nailed his kneecap. Another scream came from the grown man as his knee shattered. Never-the-less, his hand found it way to her throat and it was then she noticed the tight quarters. The bath was narrow with both of them in it and the curtain covered the top, incasing her completely.

“Feeling it now, bitch?” Kuhio spoke in Swahili and tightened his hold on her neck. This caused her to gasp even more with the air around them seeming to tighten. Ororo could hear the winds howling around the mansion, clanging against the walls to get to her; the thunder echoed loudly with her heartbeat and she knew that meant the lightning was close. “Losing control?”

“Never.” Swahili was foreign on her tongue, but she still remembered parts of the language. “If we were anywhere else, you would be dead.”

“You won’t release the weather on me?” Ororo shook her head. She couldn’t; not with the children still around. They had to be scared and some of the younger ones needed her comfort. If she brought on the lightning now, it could damage the school, because her powers were barely in her hands. She could kill not only herself, but anyone unlucky enough to be in the way.

She couldn’t speak, but she closed her eyes, not allowing Kuhio to get satisfaction in her tears. Slowly she began to let go of the weather- something Charles had taught her the very first time she had lost control due to her claustrophobia years ago. It didn't matter now if she lived or died; Ororo was beyond that point. All she could think about was those children downstairs, the ones she might hurt if she let her fears get the best of her.

"That's right...give up," slurred Kuhio. He could hardly move, not just because of the tight space, but Ororo had hit her mark with that latest kick. His knee was on fire and he knew something had broken. Kuhio pulled the shower curtain tighter around them; the only way he was going to win this fight was if she lost it completely.

"No...please no..." Ororo tried to fight off all the memories, all the pain of her past. It was overwhelming: the small space took her back to the day her parents died and in the back of her mind she could still hear her mother's cries; his body pressed against hers was too familiar to the end of her childhood.

"Storm?!" came a loud voice from her bedroom. As much as she wanted to, she could not scream or call out for help. Everything was getting darker- he was slowly cutting off her air supply. "We're coming in! Bobby break the door!"

"Kitty! I'm not going to break down her door!" Bobby argued, clearly in a panic.

"Just do it, Bobby," came Rogue's unusually stressed voice. "Go ahead Kitty."

Apparently Kitty morphed through the door because in the next second, Storm heard her cry out. The young girl dove into the bathtub, pulling Ororo through to the next floor down. They gently landed on the floor with Ororo gasping for air and silent tears streaking her bloody face.

"Storm?" Kitty asked quietly. The woman in question pulled her knees up to her chest clutching her broken arm. Everything hurt: her arm, head, face, hands, legs. "What happened?" All she got in reply was a shake of white hair. She let her sit quietly for another moment.

"I...goddess..." choked Ororo.

"I'm gonna go help the others." Kitty stood up and was about to leave, when Storm cried out.

"No, wait, I can't be alone." The girl nodded, kneeling down once again at the shaking woman's side.

"Ok...I'm here." Kitty seemed unsure of what to do. Usually it was Storm who was the comfort and loving speaker.

"I need..." She closed her eyes tightly, trying to concentrate on what she wanted to say. Her thoughts were whirling and she seemed disconnected from her body. "Logan...call Logan...tell him to-"

"They called just before we noticed something was wrong. They found Malaka and told us to go check on you. That's when the storm came and we knew that like something had happened to you." Kitty rubbed small circles on her leader's back. "They're coming home."

"I need him home, Kitty."

"I know, trust me, I know." Storm took a shaking breath before blacking out completely.

Logan didn't know if it would be better to kill Kuhio as soon as the jet touched down, or wait until after he checked on Ororo. Bobby had just called him that Storm had been attacked by Kuhio, the latter being held downstairs in the Danger Room as to not be able to escape. The younger X-Men were under strict instructions not to speak to the man in case he was able to lie his way to freedom.

Right now Hank was talking Kitty and Rogue through inserting an IV to help sedate Storm, who seemed to be in a state of shock. None of them seemed to know what exactly happened. Not that Wolverine needed a reason to kill Kuhio when he got back. Clearly he had done something to hurt Ororo and that was all the excuse Wolverine needed to commit murder. And the damn plane could not go fast enough for the Wolverine's liking.

"Kitty, if you don't stop yelling I will make you put Rogue on the phone instead." Hank shook his head in frustration. "No, no, no...the splint would be in the medicine cabinet on the back wall. The gauze is by the sink in the blue container."

Logan tried to block out what the blue man was saying patiently into the phone. How could he be so relaxed, so calm in a moment like this? Ororo was in pain, hurting, and alone. His strong weather-witch needed him and he wasn't there to hold her. Kuhio was going to die.

"Mr. Logan?" Wolverine almost jumped at the voice. To be honest, after they got the call about Ororo, he had completely forgotten that Malaka was on the jet with them. "I-I just want to make certain that Ororo is going to be...ok."

"Its just Logan and she's a strong woman- she'll pull through."

"Yes. That is how me...I remember her." Malaka was looking straight at him with confidence that did not reflect his inability to speak proper English. "She was headstrong and full of fire..." His eyes gleamed with the memory.

"She still is," grunted Logan, studying the man hard. Would Ororo be living a different life with this man if she had never become an X-Man? He was her best friend- is it possible that they could have grown to be more than that?

"You love her, yes?" Hank nearly dropped the phone when Malaka asked the question; even Logan’s face showed a bit of shock. "Sorry, too personal?"

"Sorta, but it doesn't matter at this point." he shrugged it off. "I do love her...more than anything else in the world. And if he hurt her..."

"Hold on, Rogue," muttered Hank, Logan noticed that he was no longer talking to Kitty. He placed a furry hand over the mouth piece and turned to look at him. "Have you told her?"

"Yeah. We've talked about it." The Beast turned back to his conversation with a small smile on his lips. Up front, Peter prayed for the jet to go faster, but even he couldn't help but smile at the new development.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ororo's eyes fluttered open tenderly as they adjusted to the light. The beeping machines around her were steady and controlled. Her deep breath brought Logan's attention to her. The man had been sitting by her side ever since the plane touched down an hour ago.

"Ororo?" he whispered, touching a finger to her cheek. "Wake up, darlin'."

"You're back," came a weak reply. Storm must have noticed how pathetic it sounded, because she cleared her throat and said it again, this time in a stronger voice.

"Got back an hour ago." Logan reached down and kissed her forehead, like he had done many times over the past sixty minutes. Ororo sat up with his help in arranging the pillows. Her left arm was in a sling and bruises lined her forearms, neck, and various other parts of her body. Her back ached, as did her hip from falling to the floor. "The Furball has you on some sort of painkiller, but he wasn't sure if it was working or not."

"It is for the most part. My back hurts, but the rest of me is fine." She couldn't help but look away when he tried to make eye contact with her.

"What the hell happened, 'Ro?"

"Logan...do we have to do this now?"

"We need to know, darlin'." He cupped her chin in his hand and held her eyes. Bright blue and full of tears. "I need to know."

"I should have known," she muttered. "I should have recognized him."

"Maybe we should start with the beginning," said Wolverine, trying to ease her into it.

"The beginning I've already partly told you." She traced her cast with a finger, trying not to look in his eyes. "The reason I left Malaka...I couldn't tell you before. Actually, I've never told anyone but Charles."

"You knew Kuhio?" Nodding, Ororo blinked back tears. For once, Wolverine waited, waited with a patience most did not know he had. "What happened?"

"He raped me." Blunt and straightforward, Storm laid it all out for him. "He raped me when I was twelve years old. The scars on his face are from me- I struck him with lightning in my attempt to escape. He raped me and I could not face Malaka."

"What?!" Logan stood up in outrage.

"Logan, sit down." Ororo reached out for his arm, but he ripped it away and headed for the door. "Logan, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna kill him...I'm gonna rip his-"

"Logan!" He whirled around with a wild look in his eyes, the animalistic look that scared her. Logan was lost behind the Wolverine. "Please don't leave me."

"Ororo, I can't..."

"You can't what, Logan?" She shouted back. "You can't just listen? You can't just stay?"

"He..." Logan whirled back around and knelt by her side. He grasped the hand of the unbroken arm. "He...did that to you."

"Yes. Yes, he did," she said calmly back. "And it’s easier to think about when I'm not alone. I can’t be alone, Logan.” Wolverine looked torn between going down the hall and ripping Kuhio to shreds or staying with the woman desperately in need of him. Slowly he climbed up next to her in the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist; her head lay gently against his chest listening to the rapid beat of his heart.

“You know I’m going to kill him, right?” he asked gruffly. Storm let out a small sigh.

“I know, Logan.”

“And you know the only reason I’m not down there right now is because I love you, right?”

“I know, Logan.” Ororo looked up into his eyes with pride. “Kitty told me you brought Malaka home.”

“Yeah. We got ‘im. He’s with his daughter.” She felt him tense up in her arms. Reaching up, Ororo placed a kiss on his lips.

“I don’t love him, Logan.”

“You…don’t?” he stared back at her, clearly confused. She shook her long white hair.

“Malaka was my best friend growing up, Logan. What Kuhio did to me ended any possibilities with Malaka. When Charles found me I could not stand to be alone with a man…I did not trust anyone. But Charles introduced me to Jean, who in turn, helped show me that not all men were like Kuhio. Charles restored that trust…the trust I was able to place in you.”

“So…you don’t think about what could have happened?”

“Of course I do. But I know what is happening is so much more important that the past.” She closed her eyes again. “I’ve tried to put the past behind me…I tried to put Kuhio behind me…but yesterday, it all came down on top of me and I can’t get over it alone.”

“I’m always gonna be here, ‘Ro.”

“I know, Logan.”