“Aaawww…” Ororo held her mouth open obediently, allowing Professor Xavier to peer past her depressed tongue.
“Good.” He tossed the stick into the trash, clicking off the penlight he held before sliding it into the front pocket of his lab coat. Dexterous hands pressed at her glands, moving along her throat to her collar bone. “Any fever?”
She shook her head. “Just chills.”
“Hm.” He lifted a file folder from the bench, making a note. “When did you first experience the burns?”
“At Logan’s cabin. While I was meditating.”
Again a quick scribble. “And the vision change?”
She pressed her hands beside her legs, leaning forward, swinging her feet over the end of the examination table. “Recent.”
Xavier cast her a sidelong glance. “How recent?”
“This morning.”
Scribble. “Before or after you noticed the burns.”
“After.”
“May I?” He gestured towards her arm.
Ororo rolled her sleeve, wincing as the fabric brushed the markings. They hadn’t blistered as she had feared they might, instead darkening nearly black, laying flatly against her skin, almost beneath.
The Professor snapped on a pair of vinyl gloves, running his nimble fingers along the design. “If it is all right with you, Storm, I’d like to photograph the marks, for documentation and reference.”
“Uhm, sure…”
Xavier noted her hesitation and the wayward flick of her eyes.
“Is there something the matter?” Charles asked, being certain to keep his voice neutral for her benefit.
“No, not really.” Ororo knew it was futile to try and hide anything from Xavier, he could peel her mind like a fruit if he chose. “It’s just that there are…more.”
“More marks. Where?”
Ororo hopped from the table, pulling her long sleeved shirt over her head and holding it to her chest. She turned, exposing her bare back to Xavier. She kept her head down so that her hair fell forward, away from the insignia taking residence across her shoulders and down her spine. It was a defensive posture, yet one that revealed a vulnerability normally hidden.
Silently Xavier picked up the digital camera from the counter, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. He studied the design closely. One long straight line across the breadth of her shoulders, several smaller, angular lines feathering down to converge at her spine where they merged again into a solid line disappearing beneath the waist band of Ororo’s pants. “When did these occur?” Charles asked, snapping a few more pictures of her arm.
“This morning while I was in the shower. All set?” She asked when the clicking stopped.
“Yes, you may put your shirt back on.” Xavier set the camera down, once again picking up the file folder. “The first time this happened, you were in Canada. Where are the marks from that?”
Ororo shrugged back into her top, smoothing her hair. “They faded.”
“The marks just vanished?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “After a couple of days they were gone.”
“Mm.” Xavier bent his head jotting into his notes. “I trust you were in good hands in Alberta. Wolverine seems very protective of you. It’s refreshing to see him making some emotional progress as well, I think you two are very good for one another.”
Affectionate warmth filled Ororo at Charles‘ observation. In all honesty she had never thought of Logan as the protective, caring type. Possessive, sure. Protective, not so much. Yet here she was, being examined by Xavier and instead of going out in the fresh air, or honing his skills in the Danger Room, Logan stood outside the med lab door, exactly where he had been since she had come down an hour ago.
“I don’t think I ever heard Wolverine laugh until recently.” Xavier continued nonchalantly. “Then again, I’d never seen him in his boxers before either.”
Ororo choked back a startled laugh, blushing furiously. “Uhm--about that…”
He lifted amused blue eyes to hers and waved a hand. “You’re young, healthy and beyond consenting age, Ororo. I’d be an utter fool to believe that everyone in this Institute that goes to their room at night, remains in their room.” Charles closed the file on his lap, capping his pen. “Now, back on track.”
“Yes.” Ororo gave a grateful sigh.
“The good news is that I truthfully I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Mutation is still complicated and mysterious. Often times, mutants that exhibit one power or certain powers are limited to those powers, however, there are many mutants that have latent mutant gifts, mostly undiscovered. I think the signs you are showing and the visionary changes are a part of your mutation.”
“Please explain,” Ororo said, wary of feeling relieved, but wanting to be so.
“Henry was working on just such a study before his untimely death.” Charles said. “We discovered that being mutated in one area did not make you necessarily mutated in other areas. Take telepaths for instance. Some of the most powerful telepaths show no signs of telekinetic skills. Then there are those with powers that defy all known research, like Jean. Scarlet Witch, Magneto’s daughter, is another prime example. She has tremendous mental gifts, yet carries none of the magnetism potential or speed of her father and brother. Mutation is still in the early stages of research; there are a lot of unknowns.”
“But you’re pretty certain that I’m just coming into another set of powers?”
“Not even to that extreme. I think your gifts are evolving is all. You see energy patterns and electrical impulses. Considering your ability to manipulate the weather I’m not surprised by that. How did you create a tornado before?”
Ororo shrugged. “I just did. Sometimes I have no control over it, you know that. It’s directly tied into my emotions.”
The Professor nodded sagaciously. “Yes. A unique fact in and of itself. But when you do it consciously, what happens?”
“Well, I can just kind of feel the weather around me. Then I kind of mold it into what I want it to be. That’s the best way I can describe it.”
“That’s good. Because I think that your being able to fully see those patterns as opposed to simply feeling them is an upward step in your mutation. A maturation if you will.” He gave her a gentle, concerned smile. “My only real concern are the burn marks.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “What are those?”
“I, again, think the markings are directly related to your mutation,” Xavier said. “The burn markings, from what you told me, come from lightning scorching you. Lightning that you control.” He waited for the words to sink in before continuing. “I think that these marks are psychological on your part, Ororo. I think that you are subconsciously seeking to hurt yourself. And that worries me.” Xavier didn’t mince words. “I know you blame yourself for Henry’s death. I also know about your frequent visits to his grave, and the ‘visits’ you have had with him. Couple that with the trauma you received at the hands of Sabertooth, and the rolling emotions I feel inside of you right now, and you have a recipe for disaster.”
Ororo shook her head, “I wouldn’t.”
“Perhaps not consciously, Storm. But these marks appear when you are not fully aware. Sleep, meditation…tell me, were you daydreaming in the shower this morning?”
She had been, she realized. She had been mentally revisiting her dream from the night before. Could Xavier be right? Could it all be in her head? Was she crazy?
Xavier waited before continuing, feeling her subtle tension.
After a moment she asked, “What are you suggesting, Professor?”
“Counseling.”
“No.” Ororo denied hastily. “I don’t want you or anyone else here traipsing through my mind.”
Charles looked somewhat offended by that, but recovered quickly. “Then perhaps an outside counselor. Emma Frost is an old colleague and a reputable therapist. I am certain I can set up a meeting--”
“I’d rather not.”
“Storm, you shouldn’t be so quick to refuse.”
She turned narrowed eyes on him. “Would you go?”
“We aren’t talking about me,” he evaded.
Sensing Ororo’s rising ire Charles decided it best to relent for the moment. “Why don’t you take some time to think on it, Storm. But I do strongly encourage you to speak to someone about what it is your feeling. In the meantime I‘ll give you a mild sedative to help you get a restful sleep.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Charles patted her knee, one of his rare gestures of affection. “We all just want what’s best for you.”
“Neat.” Alison ran her painted fingertips down Ororo’s back. “Can ya do me?”
Ororo adjusted her shirt. “I don’t think it works like that. I’m pretty sure a few hundred thousand volts of electricity wouldn’t agree with you so well.” The girls were once more in Alison’s bedroom, spending some time together.
“Figures.” Ali said. “So, Mr. Clean suggested seeing a mind manip?”
Ororo knew well Ali’s disdain for psychiatrists. When she had first started to rebel against her parents they had sent her to a doctor that, as Ali put it, took a moderately screwed up mind and fucked it up like a two dollar whore on thirsty Thursdays. Whatever that meant. Sometimes even Ororo’s Ali-nese was off.
“Yes. Professor Xavier thinks I am in need of counseling.”
“What does he know?” Ali peeshawed. “He hardly knows any of us. We’re little blips on his mental radar. Tiny little toy soldiers he sends ever marching off to war. We are, we are the youth of the nation.” Ali leapt onto her bed, her voice raised in song, her fisted hand in the air.
“You are such a goober.” Ororo yanked the bedspread, felling her friend.
“Goobers are lame. I’m an everlasting gobstopper, baby.”
“See. My point exactly.”
Ali flipped up her middle finger. “Sit on it dry, chica.”
“Pleasant.”
“Menh. So where’s the Wolvster now?”
“In the garage. Jean needed him to look at her coupe.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Ororo lifted her hands. “I have to be. If I can’t trust him, then I shouldn’t be with him.”
“Good point. Besides, it ain’t like Jean can compete with what you offer anyways.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
Ali made an explosive gesture with her arms lights flashing. “Crash, boom, rafter shaking sexcapades!”
Instead of being overly embarrassed Ororo simply rubbed her hand over a bubbled paint scorch on the wall above the headboard. “And what’s this?” she teased.
“That?” Ali grinned. “Was when I was sitting on Kurt’s face.”
“Ali!” Sometimes the girl was just too open.
“You asked. Don’t ask if you don’t wanna know. Freak.”
Ororo flopped backwards onto the mattress, bobbing as the springs adjusted. “Ali?”
“Hm?” Alison pulled out her bottle of ultra hold mega gel, readying herself to spike her hair in the mirror. Xavier had given them all the night off, telling them all to go into town and have fun. It was an unexpected, but not unappreciated offer.
“I’m really scared.” Ororo said, whisper soft.
Ali slowly put her bottle of gel down. She turned towards Ororo. “Okay, Stormy. What aren’t you telling?”
“I hear screaming.”
“What? Right now?” Ali frowned, concern making her lips tighten.
“All day.” Ororo confided. “It hasn’t stopped since this morning. It‘s ever present in the back of my mind.”
“And lemme guess, you didn’t think it relevant to mention that you could hear someone screaming in your head to the Professor?” Her mouth opened in disbelief.
“Not just someone, Al. It sounds like….hundreds of voices. They terrify me.”
Alison sat slowly onto the bed. “That’d scare the shit outta me too. Freaky voices screeching on the inside can’t be cool.”
“No.” Ororo sat up, holding her head between her hands. “I don’t know what is happening to me. I feel so out of sync.”
“Maybe you just need more fiber.”
“Funny.”
Neither one laughed.
“Maybe…Hmm….?” For the first time in their acquaintance Alison seemed at a loss for words.
“I’m probably just tired. Or crazy.” Ororo tried to smile.
“Doubtful. The crazies don’t know they’re crazed.” Ali pointed out. “So as long as your questioning it, then you aren’t nuts.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Hey, I do what I can.”
“You do enough.” Deciding it best not to wallow in self pity Ororo stood, brushing her hands along the front of her pants. “So, what have you got for me that will make Logan drool?”
Pushing down a wave of concern for her friend Ali grinned impishly. “Feeling naughty are we?”
Ororo winked at her. “You must be rubbing off.”
“I tend to do that.” Ali pulled open her closet door. She gave Ororo and assessing glance over her shoulder. “Lavender, maybe blue, definitely black, and definitely leather.”
“What are you doing?”
“Mentally cataloguing.” Ali pulled out a spaghetti strapped lavender top. She held it up against Storm. “Mmmm. No.” She tossed it aside. A black shredded tee was next. “Blech.” Ali’s nose curled.
After several more tries and tosses Ororo asked, “Is this going to take long?”
“Silence.” Ali chastised. “This is art. You can’t rush art. I am a visionary. I will peer deep into your soul and pull out the inner you and display it for all the world to see. Hmmmm…” Ali leaned closer, peering into Ororo’s eyes. She leaned back, feigning surprise. “Hello Kitty? Your inner self is ‘Hello Kitty’? Odd.”
“You know, Al, you get weirder exponentially.”
“Thank you. Now let‘s get moving. There‘s a sexy blue furred B.A.M.F waiting for me.”
“B.A.M.F?”
Ali grinned. “Bad ass mother fucker.”
As they dressed Ororo felt herself relaxing. It felt good telling someone about the voices in her head, and it felt even better that Alison didn’t act any different towards her. Maybe that was all she needed to do was tell someone and now things would get better.
“Stop fidgetin‘, Elf.” Logan growled. He and Kurt were seated at a semi circular booth, along with Jean, Scott, Kitty, Peter, and Warren. Ororo and Alison were on the dance floor shaking their asses and Bobby and Rogue had decided to catch a movie.
“I can’t help it.” Kurt said. “I’m not used to being out in the open like this.” His yellow eyes flickered in the shadows.
“Relax, Bub. Take a look around, you ain’t the strangest lookin’ person in the room.” Logan pointed out, sliding a fresh beer towards Kurt. His gaze perused the club, taking in the occupants, calculating, assessing, making certain he was aware of every person that may represent any type of threat.
“Yeah, Kurt, relax.” Kitty poked his shoulder good naturedly. “Alison is way stranger than you any day.”
Kurt’s tail curled around the beer, lifting it to his mouth smiling at the reference to Ali.
Two female passerby’s stopped, watching him drink. They gave him flirtatious smiles and waves to no avail.
“Hi.” One of the two approached the table, deciding to make a more pronounced attempt. She was tall and shapely, clad in a low cut red leather dress, her curly brown hair falling about her pretty face in thick ringlets. “Would you like to dance?”
“I don’t dance,” Warren interjected.
The curly haired woman blinked. “I was asking him.” She pointed at Kurt.
Warren flushed.
Kurt looked confused.
“You want to dance with me?” he asked for clarification.
“Oh, definitely.” The brunette said huskily. “To start with.”
Logan leaned back against the bench, adjusting his cowboy hat, a smirk on his face. Waiting.
“Step off, Suzie Q, unless you want to be gargling teeth.” Alison’s booted foot swung over the back of the bench, as she climbed over the wall separating the tables and the dance floor, sliding in beside Kurt. “He’s taken.”
The curly haired vixen was not easily swayed. “He’s not wearing a ring.”
Ali fairly growled.
Kurt seemed completely at a loss. Women were fighting over him. Over him.
~Put your arm around Dazzler.~
Kurt jumped a bit at Jean’s voice in his mind. He curved his arm across Ali’s shoulder. “Thank you for the offer,” he said. “But I am spoken for.”
Ali’s mouth curved. “See? Taken. Now shoo.”
“That’s too bad.” The brunette murmured. She turned her sultry gaze towards Logan.
“He’s gay.” Ali spoke up.
Logan shot her a narrow look.
“Yes. He too is taken.” Peter slid closer to Logan, his thick arm resting along the back of the bench.
“Tin can, yer about two seconds away from being scrap metal.” Logan growled under his breath.
Ororo approached the table, drawing the attention of just about every male in the bar as she sashayed her hips to the music as she walked. “Hallo.” She gave the unknown brunette at their table a smile, then turned to Logan. “Dance?”
“Don’t bother. He’s gay.” The brunette supplied before walking away.
Ororo blinked rapidly, then she caught Ali’s grin and almost laughed out loud. “Oh. Well, in that case I’ll take Birdman.” Ororo reached for Warren’s hand.
“Ye’ll do no such thing.” Logan was out of his seat. “Let’s go.”
“But you don’t dance,” Jean commented sipping her Blue Hawaiian.
Logan shrugged. “Things change.”
“And some things don’t,” Scott muttered watching Jean watch Logan. In the months that they’d been together things had been good, great even, but ever since Wolverine’s return to the team Jean had been different. Nothing overly dramatic, but subtle differences that ate at him. Like her not holding his hand when Logan was in the room. Or her moody sulkiness for the month Logan had taken Ororo to Alberta. When he had asked her about it she had become defensive, calling Logan an ‘unpredictable psychopath’. Sometimes Scott wondered if Jean chose him because she loved him, or because Wolverine scared her.
“What does that mean?” Jean demanded, frowning.
“Nothing.” Scott said.
Jean gave him a haughty glare. “Lying to a telepath is a bit ridiculous. If you have something to say, Scott, then say it!”
“I think that’s out cue to go,” Logan murmured against Ororo’s ear.
“I think you still want Wolverine. There I said it.” Scott scowled angrily.
Logan groaned. Ororo tensed.
Ali leaned forward, rubbing her hands together. “This is better than Soapnet.”
“Guys, is this really the place for this?” Kitty interjected, trying to be the voice of reason.
Jean sloshed her drink. “That’s crazy.”
“I don’t think it is.” Scott countered. “You’re always telling me to be more direct, more spontaneous, more passionate. It’s like your trying to make me more like him.” Scott pointed an accusing finger at Logan. “It’s his name you call out in your sleep.”
“Well, this is awkward.” Kitty murmured, sitting back, no longer trying to diffuse the impending bomb, instead, like everyone else at the table, waiting for the explosion.
Jean stood, knocking over her drink. “For God’s sake, Scott, I can’t help what I dream!”
Scott stood as well, his voice dangerously soft. “How about when we have sex? We share a mind-link, remember?”
Jean spluttered, her face becoming dull crimson. She glanced uneasily between Scott and Logan.
“I think this conversation needs ta end now.” Logan said. “Go home, Scooter. Take Jeannie and go sleep it off.” He could feel the hairs on his neck rising, the only indication as to how upset Scott’s careless words actually made the silent Ororo.
“What’s the matter, Wolverine? Afraid I’ll tell Ororo I saw you and Jean kissing?”
Ororo felt like she’d been sucker punched.
“Whoa.” Ali was suddenly less amused by the drama unfolding.
“Logan?” Ororo stepped away from him and turned to face him.
“It was nothin’, ‘Ro.” Logan cursed himself. He had thought it best to leave well enough alone, not realizing Jean’s impromptu kiss in the garage earlier had been witnessed.
“It sure as hell didn’t look like nothing.” Scott pointed out. “It took you a full minute to come up for air.”
Logan swore. He had been surprised by the lack of emotion he felt with Jean in his arms, and the curious absence of desire in their kiss. He had been so caught up in the thoughts of how unaffected he had been, it had taken him a moment to break the kiss. But he had broken it, and told Jean that he was not interested. “Jean was just thankin’ me for fixing her car.” He growled.
“Well,” Scott said, a hard edge to his voice. “’Ro bought the drinks tonight. So I guess thanks are in order.” Before anyone guessed his intentions Scott’s arms snaked around Ororo, pulling her against him as he lay his mouth over hers in a deep kiss.
-SNIKT- Logan saw red. Immediate, angry, blood lust, red. “Don’t!” He reached for Ororo.
Ororo knew she shouldn’t play with fire, but Logan’s betrayal hurt. It hurt more than she was willing to admit. Closing her eyes, she lent herself up into the kiss full measure, wrapping her arms around Scott’s neck and allowing the kiss to continue rather than slap him. When they parted Scott looked a bit dazed. “You’re welcome.” Ororo said, glaring at Wolverine.
Logan stared at her, his canines flashing as he panted, fighting against the desire to eviscerate Scott right then and there. He growled, low and deep in his throat, close to losing the fight with himself. Scott stared at him from behind ruby shades, his mouth set in a grim line, his jaw tilted, not backing down, almost daring Logan to come at him.
Never one to back down from a challenge he drew back, claws extended.
Screams rent the club interior, for a moment drowning out the thrumming bass of the floor music, as the ceiling shook and the roof off the club was torn away. Dozens of red laser lights scanned the occupants of the club.
“Halt, mutants!”
“Holy shit!” Alison yelled covering her head as the disco balls throughout the club came crashing down. “Sentinels!”
“Move, move, move!” Cyclops ordered.
Smoke bombs dropped into the club, filling the room in acrid blinding blackness.
“Status!” Cyclops demanded. “Call out.”
“Shadowcat.” Kitty’s voice came out of the smoke.
Followed by, “Colossus.”
Then, “Nightcrawler.”
“Angel.”
“Marvel Girl.”
“Where’s Ali?” Storm demanded. “Kurt? Where is Ali?”
“I can’t see her.” Came Kurt’s frantic return.
“Wolverine?” Storm called out. “Can you smell her?”
“The smoke’s too thick. Can’t smell shit.”
“Everyone find cover!” She stood.
“’Ro, what the hell ya doin’?”
“Clearing the air.” Palms turned upright, Ororo lifted her hands and immediately the dust and debris swirled, clearing the smoke and allowing the team to assess the situation. “Does anyone see Ali?”
“Mein Gott!”
“Kurt what is it?” Storm was damn near panicked. “Did you find her? Kurt!?”
With the room cleared Logan could smell it. Blood. Lots of it. And some of it was Ali’s. He swung his gaze to where Storm stood, her blue eyes pleading with someone to answer her. “Darlin’…”
“No!” she screamed. “NO!” Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the walls in much the same way the Sentinels had.
“Hostile mutant.”
“You haven’t seen hostile!” Lightening flashed in her eyes, dancing along her fingertips. She took to the air on a powerful arctic blast.
“Storm!” Wolverine bellowed. “Damn it!” he grabbed Warren. “Get me up there.” He pointed through the gaping hole in the roof, sparks raining from the severed wires.
Warren shook his head. “Can’t.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Wolverine snarled.
“I really can’t.” Warren tried to spread his wings, nearly screaming in agony.
“Everyone get clear. Let’s get outside!” Cyclops ordered. “Kurt, you got her?”
“Ja.” Kurt’s voice shook with anger and remorse. *BAMF*
Once outside the team watched in startled wonder as night turned to day, streak after streak of white hot lightning whipping across the sky, sizzling in the rain. Black clouds swirled, frothing over one another and growling like angry living things.
“She can’t possibly drop them all, “ Jean called out. “She’ll burn herself out.”
Wolverine grabbed Colossus. “You got a decent throwing arm?”
“What?”
“Throw me.”
“You can’t be serious.” Kitty said.
“Very.” He locked eyes with Peter. “You up to it?”
“I am strong.” There was a strange rippling sound as Peters skin shifted, transforming from smooth flesh to pristine steel in a fraction of a second.
Clang! Logan hit the first Sentinel between it’s glowing eyes. “Howdy.” He sunk his fists into the machine, then pushed himself downward, splitting the titanium shell.
On the ground Cyclops blasted another set of metal monstrosities. “Marvel Girl, send Kitty to get the van.”
“Already done.”
“Good. We’re leaving.” He could see tanks rumbling towards them. “Looks like we got more company. Fall back!”
~Wolverine. Get Storm, we’re falling back.~
“Any suggestion as to how?” He demanded. Storm was still high above them, whipping lightning bolts at the remaining six Sentinels.
~I’ll levitate you up to her.~
It was a weird feeling being picked up telekinetically. “’Roro!”
Storm didn’t glance at him.
“’Ro!”
“LEAVE!” Thunder boomed and lightening slammed into the ground. Ororo raged, her soaked hair shielding her face from him.
The sky opened up and a torrential downpour spilled from the heavens, the full concentration of it directed on one singular location; the remains of the fallen Sentinel that had torn the roof from the club. Flashes of white hot heat split the sky. The clouds began to spin, faster and faster overhead. A dull roar, like the one Logan had heard in the Amazon rumbled through the air. Civilians screamed.
The X-men glanced uneasily up at their raging friend, then between each other.
Logan‘s voice was harsh. “Jeannie.”
~Yes?~
“Shut her down.”
Jean nodded once, closing her eyes.
Up in the sky Ororo could feel Jean nudging her way into her mind, but didn’t care. All she wanted to rip everything apart. The feeling was overwhelming and welcome. The screaming in her mind sang in approval. Destroy. Hurt. Kill.
“I can’t!” Jean called. “I can’t get in.”
“Then get me closer.”
“Wolverine, she wants to kill.”
“No shit.” His feet touched the pavement. “What now?”
*BAMF* “Maybe we can help.”
So caught up in the fury of the storm she was creating Ororo almost missed the spectacular lightshow on the ground, but as she was about to let loose completely she caught a flash of aquamarine out of the corner of her eye. Hardly daring to believe, she lowered herself slowly to the ground.
“Jesus Christ, Freakshow.” Ali called from the warm sanctuary of Kurt‘s embrace. “I ain’t dead yet, and I’d like not to be, so can we go?”
“Al?” Ororo raced forwards, falling onto her knees in front of her friend. “You’re okay?”
“A bit banged up and bruised, but otherwise fine.” Ali nodded. “Stop fretting. I take more of a beating at one of my concerts.”
Ororo gave a hiccup sob and hugged her.
“Okay, okay.” Ali sniffed. “I love you too, tweaker.”
Tires squealed and the black Xavier Institute van skid through the parking lot. “All aboard!” Kitty called.
“Please, someone tell me she isn’t driving!” Ali said. “I’ll take my chances with the two ton robot.”
“Let’s go home.” Scott said.
“Yes.” Jean approached him, her green eyes wary. He held his hand out. She threw herself into his arms.
Logan watched the exchange, feeling and odd sense of relief. He let his gaze wander to Ororo, who was helping Ali limp into the van. Would they be all right? That question plagued him all the way back to the mansion, as he trailed the van on his bike.
Alone.
[Reviews - 194]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 5639 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
