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NOTE: This is longish but I didn't want to prolong her NOT telling everyone because it would get to a point where it would become redundant to even me. OH! Thank you Beautiful Storm and W6C for reviewing; much appreciated.


He called her, pissed off.

Ororo wasn’t answering his calls, responding to his texts, and was acting so differently around him. She didn’t say “I love you.” But what else could she do? Her stomach was starting to pooch. It wasn’t noticeable, just a slight bump. Anyone who saw it probably thought she was getting a little fat. Thankfully, it was fall and sweaters and loose shirts made sure nobody saw it.

When she listened to the message, Ororo burst out in tears.

--“Why won’t ya fucking call me back? I miss ya so much an’ yer acting like I don’t even exist! I’m tryin’ ta not be overbearing, but this is ridiculous. What did I do wrong, Ro? Is this you breaking up with me? I-- I need ya, Ro. Whatever I did wrong, just tell me; I’ll do better next time. I--I gotta go. Call me. Please. I love you.”--

This was getting out of hand and she hadn’t done anything yet. That was her problem. Inaction. She felt like Hamlet, always worrying, forever questioning, and being so rude to the ones she once held dearest to her heart. It took a while for her to answer the call, and even longer to muster up the courage to see him face to face. But nary a doubt, today was the day. Too much time had elapsed. For all her fears of having a baby, she was even more afraid of losing Logan.

So while she sat in her parked car in the park’s parking lot-- she found the sentence hilarious, as well-- she wondered if her priorities were in order.

Ten minutes later, Logan pulled up in his beat up white truck. They’d shared many a fond memory in that truck. One night, Logan and Ororo spent the night in the bed of the truck, making love, talking, cuddling, and star gazing. At one point, Logan mentioned how he wanted to stay with her for forever, that they were made for each other. Ororo smiled demurely, loving the cuteness of his serious statement.

Apparently, he got his wish.

He knocked on her window, looking nervous, sweaty, and happy to see her. Ororo couldn’t help but find his gruff look sexy; her pregnancy was making her so horny! It was six, so Logan had just gotten off work. She was the one to suggest the park, saying it was close to his mechanic job.

Ororo climbed out of her car and hugged him, trying to make a space between them. It was to send a message like her clothes, an outfit she meticulously planned. She wore skinny jeans to look normal, but an oversized grey sweater to hide her stomach. Ororo didn’t want to look sexually appealing, so she wore her long, white hair in a messy ponytail. No makeup. No sex. All business.

“You look beautiful,” he said shyly, pulling her into a hug. How uncharacteristic of Logan. He was brash, confident, and self assured. But with her, it was like he was always uncertain. When they first met, he was working a part-time job fixing up part of the mansion. The first time Ororo saw Logan, she thought he was a total pervert. Wherever she went, he watched her. She was a kid and he was an adult-- a total babe with a cute ass-- but an adult nonetheless.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. She scraped her nails and refused to look up at Logan. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. “Do you mind if we sit in your truck? We have to talk about something.”

The calloused hands on Ororo’s waist dropped, but only after they tightened their grip ever so slightly. He stepped away from her, as if burned. Ororo did as well, but her hand went to her back pocket. Not for her phone-- Logan would never do anything stupid to her-- but for her positive test. She needed to show him proof.

“Yeah.”

Logan turned from her, yanking his door open. The door was old and required some force to get it open, but the aggression in his action was visible. The white door scraped and creaked, lamenting its old age and asking what it did to deserve such harsh treatment. Ororo locked eyes with Logan for a second, willing back the tears. He looked angry. Sad. Nervous. It’s not what you think. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. Logan climbed in on his side of the truck. When he slammed the door shut, Logan tapped his steering wheel nervously, then scratched at his knuckles. There were strange scars from a past he hated talking about, but always did when Ororo asked. Logan was an open book with Ororo, saying “I don’t want any secrets. People who love each other don’t keep secrets. I don’t want to be like my fucking family, all lies and shit. We’re gonna be open.”

Open.

Curious, because everything was safest on the inside.

Taking a deep breath, Ororo squeezed her eyes shut. Tears were stinging to fall, but she wouldn’t let them. She’d gone all this time without crying, she could handle the moment of truth without crying as well. “Logan, I,” her voice cracked. She was crying. “This is so hard,” she whined. Ororo buried her face in her hands, unable to see Logan’s heaving chest, white knuckles, and despondent stare. “I can’t do this. I can’t--”

“Then don’t,” he argued, his voice tight to his own ears. “Whatever I did, we can work it out. I don’t wanna fuckin’ lose ya, darlin’. We’re s’posed ta be together. I’ll do anything to keep ya. Anything. Just tell me what ta do. I’ll do it!” he pleaded.


Why did he have to be so perfect? Ororo’s shoulders shook with the force of her tears. His admission was making this worse. He was making her feel worse.

Gently reaching for a sobbing Ororo, he stroked her back. “I know I can be a little possessive and... Shit, well I’m not tha greatest guy, but with you I wanna be,” he admitted. “I love ya, Ororo. I want--”

“I’m pregnant.” The hand on her back paused. Ororo sat up, tears still falling down her face. They locked eyes, her cerulean eyes on his dark browns. She searched his face, looking for some sort of recognition or understandable expression and found nothing. Logan was just staring at her. If there was such a thing as being frozen in time, they were it. The space between breaths elongated and the car became quiet.

It was sinking in.

She was pregnant.

Ororo started bawling again. Or... For the first time.

She bent over, her face in her hands, her elbows resting on her thighs.

Everything was over. She wouldn’t go to school at a big university, she wouldn’t have any friends, she wouldn’t have her father, and she wouldn’t have Logan. He didn’t need this shit on him, not something else. On the darkest and quietest nights, he would sometimes voluntarily tell her stories of how he was beaten by his father, his uncle, and his mother. He would tell her how he went to live with a religious foster family and how the foster father beat the hell out of him for just being alive. He would tell her stories about running away and being a homeless youth in Canada.

He was just getting over all that. He was getting his life together, got his GED, got a job, was taking courses at the community college, and was getting over his childhood abuse.

And now she just saddled him with a baby even she didn’t want. Not yet, at least.

A few seconds turned into a few minutes and she could hear Logan’s steady breathing. When had he even stopped? Ororo wasn’t sure. Everything still felt like an episode MTV thought up. If that was the case, then maybe none of this was really happening.



Unofficially, Ororo was spending the night at Jean’s. Officially, she was wrapped in Logan’s embrace, crying into his burly chest, waiting on their Chinese food to arrive. He hadn’t said much to her, remaining stoically calm. He offered to drive her to his apartment, but she said she couldn’t leave her car in a parking lot all night. After that, his sentences became less complex and a bit quieter. He shushed her a lot.

Kissed her forehead even more.

When they got to his apartment, he asked if he could take a quick shower and order Chinese; he hadn’t had time to shop for groceries. After placing a quick order for their favorite foods, he took a quick shower-- all of six minutes. When he returned, dressed, he gathered Ororo into his arms and sat them on the couch, murmuring into her ear.

It was so nice and exactly what she wanted. It made her feel safe and secure.

She really hated it.

Eventually the doorbell rang and it occurred to Ororo that Logan hadn’t said anything about their precarious condition. In the shows, the guy either questioned the validity of the pregnancy or lied and said they were excited. He just became silent and comforted her. While she wanted to give him some word of encouragement, she knew she would feel like a total hypocrite. There would be no blind leaders here.

“Get the drinks?” he asked as he reached into his wallet. Ororo nodded, grabbing him a beer and her a water bottle. As a bonus, she grabbed some napkins and forks. Logan paid the man, took the food, and walked to his coffee table. She joined him, admiring how he was somehow acting like normal Logan in the face of life altering news. She handed him his beer and fork. “Thanks, darlin.”

“No problem,” she mumbled, swallowing the thick lump in her throat. Her heart felt warm and she swore she felt bubbles in her stomach. Maybe it was just the hunger she felt at smelling the Chinese. She sat down beside him, said a quick prayer, then attacked the food. It wasn’t so much the silence that was making her feel awkward as much as the stares she was getting from Logan. Unable to stop feeling so nervous, she put her fork down and looked down at her lap. “Why’re you looking at me?” she asked, her voice almost inaudible.

Logan slurped down some noodles, chewed slowly, then put his carton of shrimp lo mein down. “Lift up yer shirt,” he ordered. With shaking hands, she lifted the grey sweater up to her stomach. “Yer shirt, not your sweater.” Ororo blushed, embarrassed that she couldn’t have some respite. “Like that,” he encouraged. Higher and higher the sweater went, past her bump to her lacy demi bra. It was the only bra that fit comfortably; her nipples hurt all the time and her breasts felt sore and heavy no matter what she did. She once made the mistake of wearing a sports bra. Never. Again. “Like that,” he repeated calmly.

The horrible feeling of being exposed came. Logan stared hard at her face for a few seconds, then lowered his gaze to her breasts. His eyes lingered, taking in the ample swells. Ororo was a C cup, but she had a bad feeling she was going to be a D cup in the very near future if she wasn’t already. He scooted closer to Ororo and swallowed whatever was in his mouth. Spit and apprehension, most likely.

His calloused hands touched her stomach. Recently, Ororo always felt warm. She wasn’t sure if it was the baby of just the sweaters she was wearing, but she was always warm. But when Logan touched her stomach like that, she felt warmed. His fingertips skittered across the slightly distended middle, then settled on the sides of her belly. She watched him thumb her tummy, listened to his even breaths deepen, and felt his thick hands grab her waist and pull her towards him. (Ororo sometimes forgot how strong Logan truly was.)

An arm wrapped around her waist while one free hand rested on the exposed skin.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, but it wasn’t for long.

He eventually disengaged his arm and hand from her and resumed eating. Ororo leaned slightly over Logan for her water and resumed eating her fried dumplings. In silence, she watched him wolf down beef and broccoli, shrimp lo mein, fried rice, curry chicken, and some of her fried dumplings. Ororo wondered where he put everything, but watching him eat so voraciously put her at ease. It was like they were on a regular date in a regular year from their regular life. When she opened her chop suey and he reached for it, she busted out laughing.

Logan fixed her with a mock glare. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth full of food. “Something in my teeth?” Ororo could only laugh harder. She doubled over, tears falling from her eyes at the entire thing. His stupid face. His horrible table manners. The lame joke-- really, who pulled a stunt from second grade in their twenties?

His kindness.

Her fears.

Her pregnancy.

The laughter became more hysteric and the tears more real.

It was so funny! They were so young and so in love. Brief minutes of shared passion and sweaty skin turned into a lifetime of commitment. Ororo once stopped heavy traffic to let a squirrel family run by and she actually considered forcing herself to miscarry. Logan barely had a penny to his name. He didn’t know how to be a father. She didn’t know how to be a mother.

“I love you, Ororo.”





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