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Logan stalked over to his favorite Adirondack chair and threw himself into it, closing his eyes.

So she wanted to be stubborn. Well, fine. He knew stubborn. Stubborn stared him in the face everyday like his five o’clock shadow.

If only she’d bend a little. An ugly little chuckle escaped him. “If only she’d bend a little.” Since when did goddesses bend to the whims of humble men? At least not to men like him. He took a leisurely sip of his beer as he allowed the light breeze to wash over him, stirring the hair on his arms. The sun felt good. She can’t still be too pissed with me, he thought, or the wind an’ rain’d be drivin’ me back inside right about now.

“Wouldn’t put it past ‘Ro to throw golf-ball sized hail at me right about now,” he chuckled.

It was about a half-mile from the patio to the outside pool. Logan watched the tree branches sway back and forth, glimpsing the flash of sparkling blue that was visible between the trunks. He could just barely hear splashes from here, too…Logan instinctively reached into his sweats’ pocket and pulled out his surveillance glasses. He shoved them on and clicked on the array, magnifying the view of the lenses about thirty percent.

There, that was better.

Logan adjusted the hidden mic in the stem, switching it on. Ororo’s splashes were even and well-spaced as she came closer to the end of the pool that he could see. She never broke rhythm as she pulled herself smoothly through the water. “That’s it, Boss, prove me wrong, or die tryin,’ eh?”

Logan half-dozed in the sun, lulled by the hypnotic swaying of the trees, by the flash of Ororo’s arms flying up in neat arcs as she cleaved through the placid blue.

Until it stopped.

Logan was startled from his trance “ and from the peaceful, if evocative, memory of Ororo struggling with her hair, looking good enough to eat “ by a strange splash. Not a shallow one like the ones before it. Logan just caught a wavelet of water lapping over the edge of the pool as he propelled himself upright. “’Ro?” he whispered.

Through the magnified lenses, he could make out a swirl of white hair floating on the surface of the water, fanning out across arms that were strangely stilled.”

“ROOOO!” Logan knocked the chair aside as he jerked out of it, leaping off the patio at a dead run. “KURT! For the love o’ God, Elf, I need a ‘port, NOW!” he barked into his glasses. The sun-warmed air and light breezes mocked him now, pushing him back and burning his lungs as he sucked in breath. Gotta get there in time, gotta get there in time…

“KUURRRT!” he bellowed again.

BAMF!

“Logan, what…?”

“Port me to the pool, Elf! Don’t ask questions, just do it NOW!” Kurt fell in beside Logan, matching his pace for a second before nearly tackling him, wrapping his wiry limbs around Logan and teleporting them in a flash of blue-black smoke and brimstone.

In one jump, Kurt materialized them by the perimeter of the Olympic-sized pool. “MEIN GOTT! ORORO!” Logan broke free of his grip and charged forward as Kurt reached for Logan’s discarded goggles. “Sage! It’s Kurt! Ring Hank in the medlab, we need him pronto! Ororo’s been hurt,” he panted. He threw the glasses aside as he lurched forward, watching in horror as Logan flung himself into the pool.

Tiny bubbles fluttered out through Ororo’s lips beneath the waves. All was silent. Ororo disregarded the uneasy sense that something was wrong as she reveled in the peaceful, cool blue. She was blessedly numb, even as the blue gave way to black and she was enveloped in a growing chill…

Strange, she thought. I’m not used to feeling cold.

Everyone feels cold at some point, she reasoned, that’s why the Bright Lady created winter, she mused. To allow her children to rest and herald the new spring, praising her name.

Bright Lady be praised, Ororo thought.

From beneath the darkening waves, a beam of golden-white light poured down, capturing her in its glow. So beautiful, she marveled. She could stare at it forever. Dimly she could feel something tugging at her, shifting her…it was merely the water, she surmised happily. She floated aloft, content as a child in its mother’s womb.

Ororo, a voice beckoned her. Ororo strained to hear it again.

Who’s there, she pleaded. I can’t see you.

We’re here, Ororo. We’d never leave you.

I know, she answered back. I’m not even afraid of the dark, I’m not, she boasted. I knew you were here with me. I could feel you.

That’s because we love you, child. Two slender hands reached out to her from the light, taking hers. We’ve never left your side.

Mother! Ororo’s heart leapt with joy, even as it thudded more slowly within her chest.

N’Dare looked at her only daughter with a mixture of pride and sadness. I love you so much, fate wasn’t kind when she took me from you, child.

You don’t have to go now! We’re together, Ororo exclaimed, touching her mother’s smooth brown cheek.

No. I’ll always be with you, Ororo. Always…but not here. Not like this.

But, Mother…don’t leave. I want to be with you, be with you and Daddy…please, she begged. I can’t lose you again.

We’ve never truly left you, so long as you loved me and your father and kept us in your heart. Go back. Now.

No! What if I get lost, how will I find my way? Mother? MOTHER! COME BACK, COME “

Logan waved away the frothy rush of bubbles as he got his bearings. Ororo was in a bad way, her face already growing pale from the lack of oxygen. He could just pick out the shallow cut across her forehead as she began to sink. Logan scrambled, levering himself under her and catching her as he hauled her upward with broad kicks of his tortured legs.

Water sprayed in an arc of scattered drops from Logan’s hair as he blasted through the surface with Ororo in tow. He treaded water for a moment as he struggled to hold her head above water and find her pulse. “Elf,” he gasped. Kurt tossed him the buoy and hauled it in by the blue polyurethane cord. Kurt was practically halfway in the pool himself as he reached to take Ororo from Logan while he clambered up the ladder. Logan bit back a protest as Kurt pulled her from his grasp and cradled her to his chest, carrying her off the pavement and lying her on the grass. Logan struggled up and tripped forward, sweatpants soaked and weighing him down as he limped beside Kurt. “Her pulse is there, but it’s weak. Get back, Kurt.” Logan barreled over and thrust Kurt aside as he gripped Ororo’s jaw, prying her mouth open and pinching her nostrils shut, praying he wasn’t hurting her.

“Breathe, Ororo, please,” Kurt chanted in his ear as Logan began mouth-to-mouth. Her natural flavors were masked by the oppressive presence of the chlorine as Logan breathed air into her lungs. He paused as Kurt kept count. Ororo’s chest wasn’t rising yet.

Shit.

He breathed again into her mouth. “Can y’hear me, darlin’?” he pleaded during the pause.

He breathed again into her mouth…

…and wanted to shout with relief as his sensitive ears picked up the faint whoosh of air and a weak heartbeat. Logan flinched as Ororo vomited up mouthfuls of water and was wracked with hacking coughs.

“Thank heaven,” Kurt stammered. “Thank you, Holy Father. Thank you,” Kurt huffed, raising his outstretched palms in supplication and gratitude. “Hank’s on his way.” Kurt laid his three-fingered hand on Ororo’s head to assure himself that she’d be okay. Dazed blue eyes fluttered open.

“Lo-gaaannn…” Harsh, raspy coughs interrupted her attempts to speak.

“Sssshh. Shush. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, ‘Ro.” Logan cradled her limp body across his lap as he watched Bishop and Sage making their way across the lawn. “An’ I ain’t lettin’ you go.” Ororo leaned into the bulk of his warm, wet chest and sighed, closing her eyes as she listened to the thudding of his heart.





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