Chapter Two: Downpour
The red-hot flame licked the high wooden beams of the mansion’s foyer, making her heart almost hurt as her home was destroyed again. Cyclops had Iceman contain the blaze as much as he could, but the younger X-Man had been injured somewhere along the way.
It was up to her now.
Storm used all of her power, every bit of will she could scrape together, to propel herself out of the mansion. The children had been evacuated to the lower levels with Beast and Rogue. They would be safe from the uncontrollable flame and the uniformed military searching for them.
Tears coursing down her cheeks as she moved through the blinding pain in her back, she found a good place aloft and spun her hands together. Torrential rain began to fall almost immediately, coupled with a telepathic push from the Professor.
Storm, I’ve located the jet. Phoenix and Wolverine are en route, they should be here soon.
Good, we could use them both.
Even in her mind, her voice sounded strained and she knew it. Keeping up the rainfall, she concentrated on silencing the winds, to keep the flame from spreading.
Storm, how long?
I will hold as long as it takes.
There was silence on the other end of her telepathic link, meaning the Professor would keep his worry to himself. She was grateful. Any other distractions could mean she would lose control. The mansion would burn and she would fall.
Taking a steadying breath, she gestured with her hands again, moving her soaking rain to the more damaged areas of the mansion. Once the jet arrived, they would be able to fend off their attackers more easily. Jean would help dispel them and Cyclops could load the children onto the jet.
She had hope and faith that this would all end well. She had to.
High above the mansion, controlling her beloved elements, she saw the flames begin to die. Keeping the downpour steady, the winds low, she tried to regulate her breathing. Pain zinged through her entire body, the dead weight of her legs making the strain worse than ever.
But she would hold her position until her friends arrived. Even if it killed her.
The roar of the jet turned her head, a grateful smile on her face as the side hatch opened.
“Storm!”
As quickly as she could, Ororo turned one hand from controlling the rain, using part of the winds that kept her aloft to catch Wolverine as he bailed out of the jet.
“Northeast!” she called to him.
He acknowledged her with a wave of his hand as she dropped him gently onto the sopping earth of the mansion’s gardens. Wolverine would help any left inside the smoldering ruins.
Storm watched as Jean landed the jet a few hundred yards to her left, the hatch converting to steps as the children began to emerge from the underground tunnels. The thick snow had turned into slush under their feet and several of them slipped before they climbed aboard.
Cyclops, Beast, Rogue, and Iceman also appeared, much to her relief. Concentrating on suppressing the fire, which still licked dangerously over portions of the blackened home, Storm barely heard the uniformed attackers approach her mutant family.
The X-Men were trained to fight and they instantly set upon their enemies with deadly cool. Storm watched from her perch, eyes flickering over the battleground and fire. Soon, they would be ready to leave.
Where is Logan?
Somewhere inside…he’s all right.
Thanking Jean for the quick report, Ororo began to “fly” back toward the jet, noting that reinforcements for the unidentified attackers were quickly approaching. She did a quick count of all students and mutants as the Professor was loaded onto the crowded jet with the others.
Children were instructed to strap in, to not look at what had been the sanctuary of their home as Ororo gingerly landed on the ramp, grasping the handle nearby for support.
“You ok?” Cyclops called from the pilot’s seat beside Jean.
“I am all right,” Storm replied, ducking a stray bullet. “All accounted for?”
There was a moment of silence among the mutants as shouts and gunfire sounded around them. They had very little time to get the children out of danger…
“All except for Wolverine.”
At Henry McCoy’s soothing voice, Storm turned, thrusting both hands in front of her. A gale force wind shoved the new wave of armed military back and she took two steps without any aid on the stairs.
“We have to go now!” Cyclops yelled over his shoulder.
“Wait! We cannot leave him!” she replied, her eyes straining into the dying light for any sign of their resident Wolverine.
“There isn’t any time! He can take care of himself!” one of the younger students screamed, undiluted terror in her voice.
Storm stood where she was, raising her hands palm-side up to bring down a smattering of white-hot lightning on the advancing troops. They could not leave him behind. She would not leave him.
With the troops safely pushed back for at least another few moments, Storm took one last step, standing on the very edge of the hatch as the jet’s engines screamed to life.
“Scott! NO!”
“I’m sorry! We have to get the children out of here! Get inside!”
“NO!”
She raised one hand, holding it into the moist air, reaching for him. Logan…hurry.
The others called for her again, most unwilling to leave their seats as Scott attempted to take the jet off of the ground with the hatch open. One quick gesture with her free hand kept it from moving too high.
“Storm, let go.”
“No, Charles,” she swallowed hard, fear and pain trickling through her entire system. “He will make it. He always does.”
“ORORO!”
“No,” one whisper was all the response she would give them, a tear slipping from her white eyes as her lone hand grasped nothing, save empty air.
“I’m sorry, Ororo…” Jean’s voice was all the warning she received before her powers were dampened by the stronger mutant’s telekinesis.
“No, please.”
They paid her no mind and she raised her foot, using every ounce of strength she had left, to step off of the platform. She would stay to find him alone, if need be.
A beat before her foot should have touched the ground, a large, familiar hand slid into hers. Gasping with relief, Storm let that hand lead her, pulling her to the safety of the jet’s cabin, into the warmth of his arms.
“What are you waiting for? Move!”
Ororo tumbled to the floor, courtesy of whatever momentum Logan had brought with him. He broke her fall, landing on his backside with her in his arms. She looked up into his sweat-soaked face, placing one of her hands on each of cheeks as the hatch hissed closed. Their gazes locked together, arms unwilling to release one another.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say.
~@~
They landed the jet on the wide platform of the Brotherhood’s main compound, each mutant breathing a sigh of relief.
Charles had contacted Magneto when they still had a few options as to a place to rest. Surprising all of them, the hated mutant had thrown open his doors to them, with a snide remark that the school “needed to be remodeled anyway”.
Ororo stood after running the checklist, careful to make sure everything was ready for the jet to be refueled and ready to go as soon as they needed it. She was not surprised when Logan grasped her arm, helping her to stand as they filed out of the jet.
Magneto was waiting on the chilly platform, beckoning them all closer. The large building had enormous doors, which were already open, giving them all light for the short walk to safety.
Logan had not said a word during the entire trip. He had helped her take her co-pilot’s place, then carefully dosed her with pain medication before taking his place behind her. No one so much as snickered at the pair of them, though Ororo was certain every mind spun with questions.
“For you two,” Magneto said in his accented voice, indicating to the Professor and Storm. “I had Quicksilver bring you…”
“She doesn’t need it,” Wolverine interrupted, steadying Ororo by placing his hand on her waist.
Keeping herself quiet, she nodded her agreement to Magneto. Logan’s strong arms held her effortlessly, making it seem as though she were walking with little aide. The truth of it was that she need not walk at all. Logan practically carried her.
Scott settled the Professor into the wheelchair Magneto stood behind, then turned as though doing his own personal headcount.
“Let us get the children settled into their rooms,” Erik replied calmly, pushing his old friend’s wheelchair himself. “Then I have had a meal prepared for you all.”
“Thank you, Erik,” Charles said, gratitude in his voice.
Magneto did not reply as he led them into the compound. Ororo chanced to look up at her personal sentinel. One glance told her that he thought as she did.
There was more to this story than their mentor let on.
Hours after their arrival in Magneto’s stronghold, the children had been tucked into the spacious living quarters provided by their benefactor. Henry, Bobby, Scott, and Jean had all joined the Professor and Magneto in his parlor, no doubt giving him a quick overview of all that had happened.
Everyone had been bathed, fed, and given a change of clean clothes. Ororo took a cup of tea after allowing Jean to badger her into a quick examination. She’d not injured herself, but the strain had done a number on her back. So long as she rested enough, she would not find herself confined to bed again.
She limped around her room for a few moments, surprised by how soothing they were. Erik had ensured that her room had many windows and a terrace for her to keep the panic of claustrophobia from creeping into her nightmares.
At least she had managed to walk without a cane or Logan’s help. Smiling at the small victory, she took a few more cautious steps, wanting to do a dance of glee when she completed her lap around the room without falling over.
Taking the final steps to her bed, she sat down gingerly, worrying her lip between her lips. In all the commotion, she’d lost Tunza. Her heart clenched in her breast, hoping her beloved canine had managed to get himself to safety. With any luck, he had taken refuge in the woods.
How long could he survive in the cold New York winter alone? She had not taught him to hunt or defend himself. Praying, she reached for her tea, thinking back to the terror of the attack and fire.
She had been in the training room with Rogue when the explosion rocked the foyer. Children had come into the hall screaming, while the X-Men rushed to defend their home. There had been no warning, not even a hint of the dangers that lay ahead.
When the fire spread, she had taken to the air, leaving her cane behind. One of the soldiers had tried to shoot her down, shouting that he’d found her.
It was then that she realised who and what they were.
The Friends of Humanity had finally resurfaced. Shaking off the memories of the car accident and shooting, she had escaped unharmed this time. Setting her tea back down, Ororo quickly unbelted her robe, preparing to go to sleep. Jean had slipped something into her tea, not that it surprised her.
Before she could lie down, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The feeling of being watched shivered down her spine, making her senses heighten of their own accord as they searched for the source.
“You waited for me.”
Exhaling slowly at the familiar growl, Ororo did not bother turning around. Instead, she cleared her throat, carefully folding the robe before settling it on the chair beside her bed.
“Yes.”
A soft footfall from her open terrace door made her shoulders tighten. Through all that had happened, Logan had still not said a word to her. Not after his rush into the jet, or their lingering looks and his steadfast presence by her side.
“Why?”
She took a deep breath, finally turning to face him. Logan stood stoically in the doorway, hands at his sides, those piercing eyes staring straight into her soul.
“I would never leave you behind.”
“I don’t deserve that, ‘Ro.”
“So you have always said,” her voice was more bitter than she had intended. “You have never allowed me to tell you what you deserve.”
For a long time, neither of them spoke. He watched her carefully, as though expecting her tirade to continue.
“Tunza’s in the lower levels, locked in the infirmary,” he said at last. “Got enough food and water to last him a good two months.”
Her heart nearly exploded. He had risked his own life to ensure their dog had survived the attack and fire. Without responding, she took a cautious step forward, wanting to feel the comfort of his arms around her again.
He nearly broke her heart all over again when he stepped back into the shadows away from her.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
Logan turned away from her, as though he would leave the way he had come. Ororo made a split second decision, letting her mutation sting her eyes from blue to white. Raising her hands, palm-up, she brought a dense fog around them, making it impossible for him to see the end of the terrace.
He didn’t speak, but she could see him pause through the thick fog.
“You will not walk out on me again.”
Silence.
“What happened to you, Logan?” her voice, to her horror, was filled with tears. “Where is the man I fell in love with? I want him back.”
More silence.
“I think he died the day he let the darkness snuff out the light.”
I am right here, she thought desperately.
“Logan…”
“He’s dead, Storm!” his soft tone had taken on a sharp edge, coupled with the sound of his footsteps. He was moving away from her.
“No! He is not!” she reached for him, not surprised when all she found in the dense fog was air.
“Goodbye, ‘Ro.”
“LOGAN! NO!” Ororo’s hands moved to dissipate the fog, but it was too late.
By the time the air around her cleared, her Logan had vanished. She limped, crying the entire time, to the terrace, leaning on the stone rail and shouting his name into the night. The others burst into her room, searching for the cause of her frantic screams, but she did not even turn around.
No matter how hard she and loud she called for him, Logan never returned.
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