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Ten months ago,

“I ain’t signin’ this shit, ‘Ro.” Ororo frowned, rubbing the space between her eyes in an effort to relive some of the frustration built up within her. When that did not work, she sighed and looked up at the hulking form of her husband. His shoulders off, his hands clenched at his sides, he looked more like about to attack Sabertooth than conversing with the mother of his two children, his wife, Ororo. The same wife, who instead of greeting him, welcomed him with a bunch of papers, divorce papers. Barging upon her, he threw the papers at her, the fluttering sheets landing on the bed of what, until a few months ago, used to be their room. In his absence, not only had his stuff been moved to a spare room, on the other side of the mansion, proceedings to end his marriage and family had also been made.

“Logan…” Ororo knew this day would come and had prepared for it. It was not that she did not love Logan, which she did; it was not that he did not care about her, which she knew he did…as much as he possibly could. The question was not of him or her but of her children now. Never objecting on his frequent and sometimes long, trips in search of his past, she had drawn the line after the last time he left. The line was on the question of life.

All the X-Men and quite a few of the students knew what Logan had been through and how he had reacted when he got away. They all knew that he was one of the few X-Men who were willing to take a life if they felt the need was dire enough. They also knew that he was perhaps the only one who made no qualms about it. For him it was a question of survival. It was a ‘me or them’ question and the ‘me’ always won for him. No one knew, if it was the nature of the beast, the Wolverine inside him or whether it was his Weapon X programming. Bobby and Rogue still remembered the night when Stryker and his mercenaries had attacked the mansion. Had Logan not been there, they and quite a few of the other students would have been unable to escape from the clutches of the fanatic Stryker.

Even thought she might not have done the same, Ororo had understood and even accepted his actions. However, taking a life because there is not other option left was totally different from what Logan had done. He had coldly, in a calculated manner, tracked and murdered those men. The number did not matter. For Ororo, even one life taken was one life too many. During her teen years in Africa, she had accidentally killed a man with her mutant powers, and even though he was trying to harm and maybe even kill her, in her eyes it still did not take anything away from the cold, hard fact that she had killed him. She then took a vow of never taking another human life, and it was that vow of hers, her concern for her children’s future, and the humanity within her that had led to make this decision.

“I ain’t signin’ it ‘Ro,” Logan snarled, cutting her off. “I ain’t signin’ it. I ain’t leavin’ you and I sure as hell ain’t leavin’ my kids.

“Just sign it Logan. Its over.” Ororo tone grew cold as she turned to lift the papers that he had thrown at her. She knew she could not reason with him….as she could not all those months ago…neither was she in any mood to. Festering for the better part of a year, her hurt and pain at Logan’s actions had even turned her thinking mind off. The night Logan left, he walked away from her and from them. This paper was the just formality left to make it legal.

“Fuck you.” Stomping up to her, Logan grabbed her arm spun her around. “I said, I. Ain’t. Signin’.”

“Logan,” Ororo winced in his Admantium grip. “Let me go….you’re hurting me.”

“I ain’t signin’ it,” but it seemed that he was too far gone to listen to anything else except the blood pounding in his ears. The man within him seemingly beaten, the Wolverine had risen to the surface, taking control of his actions while losing that over thought. The only thing that he now sensed was his mate turning away from him. Her scent was no longer welcoming towards him, but rather drawing away from his mere touch.

Lose mate. Lose pack. Lose mate. Lose pack….

Those were the only words that were getting through to him. “Not signin’ it,” the only ones coming out.

“You are hurting me Logan,” Ororo could feel the tears of pain welling up in her eyes. “Leave….me….NOW.”

KRAAKKAA-BOOM!!

“DADDEEEEEE….”

-----

Present day,

Ororo watched the three children sitting just a few feet from her. After Scott left, Jubilee and Rogue also retired for the night. Jubilee was still unresponsive as ever, maybe even more so after the events of the day. Rogue, being in a sort of catch twenty-two situation, with Remy on one side and Logan on the other, did the only thing she could. She bade Ororo and the girls a customary ‘good night’, ruffled little James’s already wild, snowy mane and walked away to her and Remy’s room. A bit bummed out about Scooter leaving with Jubilee, the children got over it soon enough and plopped themselves in front of the TV.

Looking at her daughter, sitting there, looking just like any other nine-year-old child, Ororo silently wondered how and where things had gone wrong.

---

Born with her father’s healing and animalistic qualities, Kendall had always had sort of a wild streak that was eerily reminiscent of her feral father. Maybe that was why the two bonded the way they did. Daddy’s girl didn’t even begin to describe her. It was more like a case of ‘Daddy’s Shadow’ with her. While thankful for the healing, Ororo had on more than one occasion wished against the second part of her Wolverine gifted mutation…both due to the problems it entailed by itself and due to its affect on Kendall’s other powers, her weather manipulation and more importantly, control powers. Having experienced first hand, the strict emotional control needed to wield and contain those powers; it greatly worried Ororo when she thought about what Kendall would have to go through.

Maybe it was her feral nature and the resulting ability to hold a grudge, but everything between Kendall and her mother changed the day she saw her father struck by her mother’s lightening, his electrically charged body writhing a few feet from the horrified child, his cries of pain tearing through the girl’s heart. What hurt her even more was that instead of helping him, her mother just walked away. It had been to contact Hank with her communicator, but that particular fact did not come to the girl, for all her young eyes saw was the unconscious form of her father, his body still twitching from the residual charge, the stench of his burnt skin and pickled innards assaulting the her enhanced senses.

She had gone into shock. Arriving at the very instant, that Ororo lashed out, she did not see or hear the reason for why that had happened. All she saw was her mommy hurting her daddy….trying to kill him. By the time she recovered from it, daddy had left and from then on, she only got to see her daddy for two days in a month....and for that she blamed her mother. Mommy had hurt daddy and made him go away. She wanted daddy to come back or for mommy to send her away to him too. What she did not want was a new daddy…not now, not ever.

---

Half an hour later,

With Kendall taking James to bed, Ororo quickly carried the by now asleep Rachel to her room. Waiting for her father to return, the little redheaded girl had fallen asleep on the sofa, nearly knocking the increasingly drowsy James over as she flopped against him.

Returning to her loft suite, she first checked on the children before heading for her room. Both of them were in their own room, with James still wearing the clothes he had on in the daytime. Kendall had taken off his shoes and socks before tucking him away for the night. Seeing him asleep like that, a soft natural smile gracing his lips, Ororo gave up on moving him just to change his clothes and silently made her way out and towards her room.

----

Having barely taken a step into the room, the smell of cigar smoke halted her.

Someone had been in her room, someone who smoked cigars.

“So, you finally did it huh….got what, who you always wanted.”





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