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//Flashback//

The first time it happened, she disregarded it as a dream. Given that it occurred her first night in/on his world, the night she spent outdoors in the crook of a strong branch of a tree, she wasn’t even sure whether it had been a dream or just wishful thinking…a hallucination, one that she concocted up to make up for being alone…for missing him…for having lost him.

--

She still remembered him leaping to shield her from the Sentinel’s cannon, their joined bodies flying through the air, directly in path of the erratic energy blasts from Magneto’s latest failed attempt at kick starting dormant mutations and inducing mutations in ‘flatliners’….humans. There was also a third thing…..a charged rock, courtesy of Gambit. It came between them and the blast from the machine. The next thing she realized, she and Logan were in sort of myriad colored tunnel, being pulled away from each other.

As hard as they tried, given her sudden tired but oddly non-wounded state, she found an almost unconscious and badly burnt Logan slowly slip away from her, until finally, she lost her hold on him. The last thing she remembered before she blacked out only to wake up here, was seeing Logan’s limp form *flowing* towards the bright white light at the far end of the tunnel.

--

Just as she attributed that memory to a made up one, so she did the dream from the first night. However, now, her fresh out of the shower skin, her right shoulder to be exact, was still warm from having been kissed…kissed by a man who not only wasn’t there with her, but who, unknown to her was at that very moment sleeping….almost seven years in the past.

“Logan…” the name escaping her lips, Ororo once again felt herself being engulfed in his embrace. ‘No. This can’t be true…’ she shook her head trying to clear her mind. Logan was not there with her. Just as her dream about him crying out into the empty wilderness, calling out to her and then running around, his senses on the alert, his wild eyes hoping…begging to see her. Just as that had been nothing but a dream, so was this. Then why was it feeling so real.

“’Ro,” his lips whispered to her ears, his soft lips nibbling along the curve of her neck, his growl reverberating along her back and through her entire body. It was so….


“Ororo,” a voice, a voice similar but younger than her own tore through the haze clouding her very being. “Its me…uh, Ororo. You done….I mean, are you ready for breakfast.”

“Ye…” Clearing her throat, she tried again, both thankful and cursing her younger twin for coming in when she did. “Yes. Just give me a minute to change.” More than anything else, it was her, the Ororo…Storm of this world that she was thankful for. Not only because of in her she found a sort of younger sister, but also because of something else…something that she didn’t even realize until the previous evening. That something were her weather control powers. Ever since she had come here, she had been feeling something to start to change with her…not just her body or her powers, but her very being itself.

The first time it happened, it was almost imperceptible. The first morning after her arrival, conjuring up a small rain shower, she noticed a lag of a few seconds before her powers kicked in. ‘Just tired.’ She told herself, forgetting about it until it happened again, this time en route to the mansion, when without any conscious effort or realization, dark ominous clouds appeared in the previously clear sky. Alarmed and trying to rein in her out of control powers, she found them powers vanish completely, causing her to plummet towards the ground, her winds giving way under her. Just as she was about to close her eyes, preparing herself for the life ending crash, her powers and the buoying winds came on by themselves. Taking a long break to try to analyze what had just happened, but unable to find any explanation, she made it a point to keep close to the ground and not try to overexert herself.

And that is where unknown to even her or her unassuming twin, the younger Ororo was helping her, for whenever she was near, the fluctuations and the ever present and steadily rising sense of dread…and an inexplicable pull, the one she felt during her last moments with Logan in the tunnel, seemed to ebb and sometimes even disappear.

“Ready.” Plastering a smile on, she opened the bathroom door to find her doppelganger peering intently out of the window. Even as she turned towards her, (movie) Ororo noticed the uneasy, almost pallid look on her twin’s face.

“Ororo? Are you feeling well?” She strode across the room.

This time it was the turn of the other Ororo to nod her head and put on her own false smile. Just as both of them did not know about the power sharing and stabilizing occurring between them, so as they did not realize the effect that this symbiosis it was having on the other thing they had in common…..Logan, their respective Logans.

“Yes,” nodding and gulping to clear her throat, the (ultimate) Storm started towards the door. The truth was just as her older twin was having her own Logan-moment, so was she, although unlike the former’s semi-erotic experience, hers’ was more towards the darker side of the emotional spectrum. Standing here, she almost fell to her knees at the wave of self-loathing…Logan’s hate for himself, washed over her.

‘Where is he?’ With that question on her mind, she had been looking out the window, almost as if hoping to catch sight of the feral Canadian. However, while the other Ororo’s Logan was asleep somewhere in Canada, hers’ was trying to drink his thoughts away not hundred miles from the mansion.

As both women walked out of the room, their subconscious bond seemingly healed each other, calming their restless minds and emotions.

---

Later,

This time was worst than before, for this time not only was she seeing and feeling Logan, it was as if she was there…out there in the wild, the cold mountain wind lashing against her.

None of that mattered to her, for her tear filled eyes were stuck at the beast…the man on the ground below her. It had nearly attacked her, causing her to take to the air. Seeing it…seeing him, his condition, was breaking her heart.

His clothing in tatters, his usually wild hair grown even longer, as had his facial hair, his claws out, a continuous growl sounding deep in his chest, Logan looked and was behaving more like an animal than anything else.

Was this happening now or was she seeing his past…his time after his escape from Weapon X, Ororo did not know. However, one look at his clawed, dirty, blood encased hand gave her all the answers she needed, for it was there that she saw the faint glint of a round band.

‘Goddess!’ Gasping at the realization that it was Logan, HER Logan and it was….could be him at this very moment, she rushed down towards him, her progress stopping as he leapt away and snarled up at her. With his face turned up to look at her, Ororo saw the blood….the fresh blood flowing out of his eyes, nose and ears. She had missed it earlier, taking his bloodied lips as a sign of him having eaten raw meat. But blood from the ears and nose? What was causing it? And why wasn't it stopping? His healing factor should have healed whatever wound he had attained?

Still snarling at her, his canines grown to fangs, Logan…the Wolverine started to draw away, only to stop and tilt his head further up, sniffing the air as if trying to catch her scent.

So distraught had she been over Logan’s current state that it took Ororo a few seconds to realize that not only had he seen her, he also seemed to be able to smell her. Even through his blood-haze, he caught and recognized her scent. This had never happened in any of her previous dreams. However, neither had he been like this. It had always been him alone or even when she had been there, it was his mental picture of her.

Tears staining her chocolate colored cheeks, pain, love and sorrow gripping her heart, the Windrider steeled herself and parting her lips called out to her seemingly lost, feral lover….the winds carrying her whisper of his name to him.

The reaction was instant, as both the retreat and the threatening growls stilled. With bated breath, Ororo watched as blood filled eyes seemed to focus on her. Was he even able to see her or was he just zeroing in her voice? Did he recognize her? Or was he so far gone that….

“’Rrrr…..” it was more of a growl than anything else as for the first time in months, the man even attempted a try to express himself through/over the beast. Fleeing from this world’s Xavier’s mansion, he had barely made it to this area before finally succumbing to the changes occurring within him. Since then, he had come out only twice, both times when he felt an odd calming sensation wash over him….just like how he used to feel on waking up next to Ororo. However, not finding any trace of her, he retreated back into the refuge of the beast, going back to safe place....a place where he wasn’t alone, where he and Ororo were still together and were looking forward to the birth of their children. Just as they had been before the mission that took her away from him.

“Logan,” hopeful at his recognition, Ororo called out again, louder this time as she landed and started towards the stupefied Wolverine, who sitting on his haunches, his hands pressed flat on the ground, looked more like an animal than human.

“’Rrro…?” This time his tone was clearer as he lifted one hand to wipe the blood from his eyes. This was another side effect of whatever was happening to him. His senses had grown so powerful, so sensitive, that even here, in the silence of the wilderness, the sounds were loud enough to burst his ear drums over and over again, and cause near continuous hemorrhaging.

“Yes my love,” moving slowly so as not to spook him, the Nubian beauty advanced towards and finally reached the semi-human Wolverine. “Its m…e…” her voice cracked as she reached down to touch him, only to find her hand pass right through him.

“’Ro…” that was the limitation of Wolverine’s vocabulary as he too tried to lean into her caress, his primal mind not noticing that they couldn’t touch each other.

Trying again, and again, and again, Ororo collapsed onto her knees, feeling more helpless and distraught that she had ever before. Why was this being done to her? Why couldn’t she touch him? Feel him? Help him….

As far as Logan/Wolverine was concerned, just her being there was enough for him. Just as did not or could not notice that they hadn’t touched physically, so he did not realize that lowering his head into her lap, he passed through it…going right down to the cold, snow covered ground.

Seconds later, he was asleep…finally at peace for the first time since coming to this world.

----

Even later,

This was just after the events of Xavier’s office. Even as her physical ‘future’ self was teleported to the infirmary, her essence was almost supernaturally around six and a half years in the past. These last few days, it had grown even stronger…with the time she was spending with Logan becoming more ‘stable’.

“Hey.” She looked up at the bloodied but grinning man walking towards their small but cozy cabin. Located not hundred feet from where they first met on this world, it was remote….almost a four hour walk to the nearest road, seven from the nearest town.
“Hey. You’re back and from the looks of it with a successful catch.”

“Yup. Got a young buck today.” With a thump, he unloaded the dead animal from his shoulder, also pulling off his hunting-shirt and tossing it into the empty wooden basket lying next to the front steps. “Should last us for some time. You sure you don’t wanna…eat….” He knew what her answer would be, yet he still asked…every time
“You know I don’t.” Ororo answered with a sad smile. Things hadn’t been easy for them. None of them could explain what or how this came to be, and it had taken quite some time for Logan to accept that she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination and that was real….well, as real as could be under the current conditions.

“Huhn. Thought so.” He flopped down onto the steps, his brow creased in a frown.
Drawing nearer, Ororo *sat* down next to him. “Don’t worry my love. Everything will be fine soon.” She did not know why she said that, except that these last few days, she had started feeling more and more…solid. As if she was truly there, no only in spirit but also in form.

“I…I…yeah.” Almost reaching out to her, Logan let his hand drop at the last moment. “But I miss you ‘Ro…”

A sad smile on her face, Ororo did the only thing she could do to alleviate their mutual longing…..she drew her arms around him.

Closing his eyes and letting his other senses span out, Logan felt the cool yet somehow heart warming breeze wash over him. This was the only way they could *touch* each other.

“I still feel you....but…really miss touchin’ you.”

//End Flashback//

----

Present,

“Its good to see you again my friends.”

For what seemed like the longest time none of the dumbfounded X-Men, with the exception of an oddly silent Xavier, spoke or moved a muscle.

“Who… (cough) Who are you?” The younger Ororo was the first one to break the silence. As if things hadn’t been confusing enough, now, not only was the (movie) Ororo here with her Logan, they had kids too…already. Grown up kids at that…from the looks of it around five or six years old.
‘How is this possible? Wasn’t she unconscious in the X-wing? But, if she was here, then how could she have been with them? And if she was with them then how….? And what’s with the way she looks?’ That last question, the one about the appearance of this Ororo. It was as if the (wind and water) elements themselves constituted her. However, even before could complete it, let alone voice it, one of the two children, the little white haired girl, spoke up. Having landed, (movie) Ororo had lowered the kids to the ground, using her winds as an elevator. However, as soon as their feet touched the ground, both children hurried to their father’s side while their mother stepped forward to welcome the guests.

“That one looks like mama,” the mocha skinned girl tugged at her father’s denim clad leg, getting several supportive nods from her brother. One look and there was no mistaking whose children they were, or that they weren’t brother and sister. Even their eyes were of the same color.

“I am Ororo…Storm,” (movie) Ororo smiled at her younger twin, her long cloud colored hair…if you could call them that, gently billowing behind her.

“If you are Ororo,” Jean stepped in. “Then who do we have in the x-wing? Not to mention staying with us all these days.”
“That too was me,” the smooth, warm, contented voice answered the redhead. “Also, if you check, you’ll find that there is no one in the jet anymore.”

Even as the words left her lips, Scott was already on his way towards the X-Men’s jet. One look inside and he confirmed it. “There is no one there….its empty.”

“But how?” Turning back towards her older twin, (ultimate) Ororo once again felt the fulfilling peace that she had experienced in the infirmary.

--

**Jean** Scott telepathically contacted his girlfriend.
**I know Scott** Having read his suspicions, Jean nodded in support.

**Can you read their minds?** He asked, hoping for some confirmation about these strangers.
**No** came the denial **Not even the children.**

--

“And she won’t be able to…” Both X-Men jumped at the threatening growl from the other Logan.

“Wha-What do you mean?” Jean tried to put on a brave front. This was even more disconcerting than with (ultimate) Wolverine. At least with him, she sometimes caught thought projections. But with these four…nothing. Not even a single thought.
“You know what I mean,” Logan drew the children behind him. “Try to do anything to them, and none of you gets out of here alive. I know what he said to you.” With his free hand he gestured towards Scott.

“I didn’t say anything,” Scott feigned ignorance. After all, it was the truth. He hadn’t even spoken a single word.

“You didn’t say it…you thought it. I heard you.”

Note: Hopefully this should have answered some questions….about both (movie) Ororo and Logan....including what happened to them...the changes.

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