Chapter Eight: First Steps
Say goodnight
Don't be afraid
Calling me, calling me
As you fade to black
~Evanescence
“Are you out of your mind again?”
Ororo ignored Scott as she moved out of her bedroom and down the hall. He gave chase almost instantly, easily avoiding a head on collision with Peter. She didn’t want to think about the consequences of her actions. With Remy around, she was a lot less likely to completely lose her senses. If she kept her wits, maybe she’d be able to shake off the effects of Logan’s touch.
“I mean, come on, Storm,” he continued as they quickly descended the stairs leading to the main hall. “I know things are bad between you and Wolverine, but this is just insanity.”
“Oh?” she tossed coldly over her shoulder. “And why is that?”
“You know damn well why,” Scott nearly snarled. He grabbed her elbow, bringing her into an empty classroom and slamming the door behind them. “With all that’s going on, you choose now to expose Logan to Gambit?”
Annoyed with his second-guessing and the fact that she hated the topic of Logan now, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, meeting her friend’s stare. He had a point. She knew, better than anyone, that both Gambit and Wolverine were possessive. Though Logan had no claim on her, the close relationship she shared with Remy was likely to start trouble.
She’d wanted to tell Logan about the arrival of her friend beforehand, but he’d been shuffled off to a mission just before she left for the airport. Remy was here now, mildly clueless as to her true reasons for bringing him to New York, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. She would take any measures she felt necessary to protect her heart. Even from herself.
“I wanted to see my friend again, Scott,” she said at last. “Why do you believe everything I do is tied to Logan in some way?”
“One: I know you. Two: I know him. Three: I know Gambit,” he rattled off quickly. “And four: You only call on Remy when you need a buffer zone or a thief. I’m guessing you’re not about to rob the mansion blind, so let’s go with the former.”
“I need him right now, Scott,” was the only reply her stubborn lips would part with.
“Why?” Scott’s ruby-red gaze bored into her even through the thick quartz of his glasses. “What the hell is going on here?”
“It is none of your concern,” she shot back quickly. “Suffice it to say I find myself in need of a friend and Jean is currently unavailable.”
Much to her surprise, Scott did not flinch at the mention of his departed love. Instead, he crossed his arms in a pose mirroring hers and scowled.
“Stop playing games with Wolverine, Ororo,” his voice was hard, unlike him. “I mean it.”
Flabbergasted for a moment, Ororo clamped her mouth closed to keep from sputtering in indignation. It hurt, more than she thought it would, that Scott seemed fairly certain everything gone wrong was her fault.
“Well, since you are keen on taking his side…”
“You’re damn right I’m taking his side,” her friend replied coolly. “He was just starting to settle down. You come home and WHAM! He’s all torn up again. I’m sick of it.”
“Am I not also your friend?”
“Honestly? I don’t know who the hell you are right now.”
With that, Scott turned on his heel and slammed out of the classroom. Left alone, shocked to the core, Ororo lowered her denim-clad backside into one of the student chairs, shaking her head in dismay. It was obvious that Logan had not filled Scott in on everything that had transpired. He was standing resolutely in Logan’s corner.
That was why she needed Remy. He was the one person still living that took her side in everything. He would keep her from straying, help her through the pain. She wanted to stop loving the Wolverine and Gambit was the perfect man for the job.
Though she and Gambit had been friends many years, she still thought of him as her best friend. They often joked, when asked if they’d been lovers, that such action was impossible. Remy once said that it would be too close to kissing his sister. She was inclined to agree.
But whenever she needed him, Remy was ready and willing to do anything for her. If she needed a three-hour phone call in the middle of the night, he was happy to oblige. It was likely not a smart move, putting him in the same house with a man she was trying to avoid, but at the time, it was the only solution she could think of.
As the warm, merry sunlight beamed in through the enormous classroom windows, Ororo sat back in the chair. It was going to be a difficult few weeks at the school. Preparations for the new term had already begun, Rogue’s new powers would have to be tamed, and her personal life was an utter disaster.
She tried to burn away the image of Logan from her mind, but he kept slipping into her thoughts without permission. Last night seemed too much to be reality and too real to be shrugged off as a dream. Whenever her thoughts wandered, memories would overcome her.
Ororo wanted him, even against her will. She had no business being in love with him after so much had happened. She’d told him that just one more night in his arms would be the end of it. How could she have known how different everything would look in the light of day?
Most would think that she was afraid of him. Many would only assume that Logan’s feral nature and tendency to run off without warning made her shy from him. Now, however, she realized how untrue that statement was. The truth of the matter was that in the cold light of day, when she’d looked upon Logan’s sleeping face, she could easily lose herself.
All thought, all reason seemed optional when Logan was near. Though most women wanted that kind of love, Ororo rather preferred keeping both of her feet planted firmly on the ground.
It was just too easy with Logan.
“Hey.”
Speak of the Devil and in he walks, she thought with a mental sigh.
“Hello, Wolverine.”
She turned as he entered the classroom, facing him with as much of her usual confident calm as she could muster. It wasn’t easy to be aloof in his presence, especially when she only wanted to smile and beckon him closer for a stolen kiss.
“Huh,” he grunted as he closed the door. “Thought we got past the codename stage when you decided to spend half the night with your legs around my waist.”
Trying to ignore the not-so-subtle pounding in her blood at that mental image, she cleared her throat.
“I thought, given the actions of last night, that it would be best to observe a certain level of decorum in front of the others.”
He turned his head to the left and then right before meeting her gaze with those depthless eyes.
“There’s no one here, ‘Ro.”
“Still…”
“Still nothin’,” he cut her off. “I told myself I’d let you put the distance between us if you wanted and I will.”
Startled, she swallowed thickly, her heart easily betraying her stubborn mind. She wanted him to fight her on this… No! She did not. Apart was best for everyone involved.
“Thank you,” she managed after a moment.
“I want to hear it from you first,” he growled, taking a step closer to her. “I want you to look me dead in the eye and say you don’t love me. Look at me, and say last night scratched your itch just right.”
“Excuse me?”
Her heart thudded against her breast at his words, the low growl of his voice. While her mind shouted at her to keep her spine up, to just walk past him, she remained in place, unable to comply. He came closer and closer still, until she could feel the heat of his body. Nerves all over her neglected flesh began begging in unison for that rough, dizzying touch, even as she tried to fight it.
“You look at me an’ say you want nothing from me and I’ll go back to bein’ Wolverine for you,” he replied. “Until you do, I’ve got a chance.”
“Why do you even want a chance?” she questioned, not meeting his eyes.
“Cause last night only made me want you more,” he all but purred, shifting so their bodies grazed one another. “And I definitely want to explore that.”
Ororo’s spine straightened, just slightly, and she told herself it was not to feel more of him against her through layers of clothing.
“I don’t,” she sighed. “It is best for all of us if we just admit it will never work and move on.”
“You didn’t answer my question, darlin’.” He reached out, rubbing his thumb over the swell of her cheek.
“I cannot think as you do,” Ororo tried.
“An’ how’s that?”
“With my loins,” she smiled faintly at his chuckle. “I have a daughter to think about.”
“I wish she was mine,” Logan whispered suddenly.
Too shocked to respond, she let him inch closer, until he was speaking against her lips.
“How’s that for some truth?” His voice was so low, she could barely hear him. “I’ve wished she was mine since the first time I saw her. You almost killed me, tellin’ me to stay away from her.”
“Logan…”
“Just give me a chance, ‘Ro,” he continued. “All I want is a chance to prove I deserve you.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and her mind clicked back into place. As her heart and body’s needs were shoved aside, she managed to pull away. Taking a few steps back so they no longer touched, she shook her head at him.
“No,” Ororo said clearly, though her heart screamed. “This is a mistake, Logan.”
“You can’t stand there and tell me last night was just physical,” he growled. “It wasn’t for me and I know it wasn’t for you.”
“Even if that were true, this is still a mistake.”
Logan took a step toward her. “Do you love me?”
Unable to lie, no matter how she wanted to, Ororo nodded once. “Yes.”
“Then stop thinkin’ for five fuckin’ minutes, let your heart talk for you.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
She turned her back on him, crossing the room to the other door leading into the south wing of the mansion. Once she was certain he had not followed her, Ororo leaned against the wall in the empty corridor, sliding down the painted surface until her backside hit the floor. Sadness tugging at her over-taxed heart, she drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping shaking arms around them.
It’s for the best. It’s for the best.
~**~
“Its too horrible tah think about. Ah can’t get her face outta mah head.”
“Dat happen sometime, chere. Best you can do is live wit it.”
“Have ya ever killed someone?”
“Gambit done lots a things he ain’t proud of, some tings that had ta be done.”
“Ah didn’t mean tah hurt her.”
“Dey all know dat, chere, dey jus’ tryin’ ta help Rogue through it, is all. Dey care bout de girl, dey jus’ care bout you more.”
Ororo leaned against the open window, listening as an unlikely pair talked on the roof beside her bedroom. She’d not meant to eavesdrop, but hearing the accented voices speaking in low tones about Rogue’s recent troubles had drawn her curiosity.
Many at the mansion believed her beloved Cajun nothing more than a fast, sweet-talking scoundrel, but she knew differently. Beneath his brash behavior and wooing speak, he had a heart of gold. Rogue’s guilt and uncontrolled powers were something he would take to heart.
“Just doesn’t seem right,” Rogue was saying. “Her life meant as much as mine.”
“Dat true,” Remy replied a moment later. “But ‘ow many more gonna get ‘urt if ya don’t control what’s inside you?”
“Well, if yah wanna use wisdom on me, Ah can’t argue.”
Ororo heard them share a quiet laugh, smiling as the gentle sound was carried on the sweet summer breeze. Rogue had withdrawn from everyone over the last day or so, even after a long talk with Scott and Logan.
Remy had obviously decided to give it a shot, squirreling her away onto the roof where no one would bother them. He knew all about doing something by design or accident that caused overwhelming guilt. They were closer in age, so perhaps he would have an easier time getting through to her than the others.
“Remy like dis,” he was saying, confusing the woman listening in.
“That? Funny story behind it, actually,” Rogue replied cheerfully. “Well, wasn’t funny at the time.”
“So, you not born wit dis here skunk stripe?”
“Skunk?!”
The twosome erupted into laughter, the bounces and knocks on the rooftop telling Ororo they were likely wrestling or otherwise engaged in some innocent diversion. She would approach Rogue in the morning about flight training. Perhaps some good would come from the tragedy after all.
Her thoughts turned from the couple on the roof as her eyes swept over the clear May sky. It was warm so early in the summer, but a welcome change from chilled evenings. The moon was ripe, showering the darkened grounds below her with silvery light. She would have taken to the air, if she thought the couple on the roof wouldn’t have noticed.
Prita’s adjoining bedroom was finally finished. Kitty and Peter worked tirelessly for hours readying the smaller room for the girl when Storm announced that her reinstatement to the X-Men would now be permanent. It was not a hard choice. Somehow, she knew that her daughter would benefit more from the busy environment provided by the school.
And it kept Storm at home, where she truly wanted to be.
Eventually, the sting in her heart would fade. She and Logan would return to the working relationship that would suit everyone properly. Someday they might look back on this period and laugh, as Rogue could now regarding the incident that brought her to the X-Men.
Ororo did not startle when a lithe, cat-like form landed on the floor behind her, having jumped through the skylight. She’d heard the light, almost imperceptible footsteps a beat before her darling friend swung his body into the room.
“How is she?” Ororo asked, not turning from the window.
“Thinkin’,” Remy replied, shrugging out of his duster. “Remy an’ Marie have a nice long talk. She doin’ better, me tink.”
“Good,” she turned to him, smiling. “I heard you.”
“Dat not nice, Stormy, listenin’ in on a private talk. Did Remy teach you notin’?”
“Oh, you taught me plenty,” Ororo chuckled softly, perching on the open window’s sill.
“Don’t get caught,” the two friends said in unison.
Remy folded his duster over the edge of the bed, taking a careful seat beside it. They faced one another, saying nothing in companionable silence for a few moments with only the sound of Prita’s soft snores to fill the empty air.
“Ya know, petite, Gambit not stupid.”
Confused, Ororo frowned, settling her hands beside her hips to grip the sill and lean closer.
“Again?”
“Mean, you call Remy for a reason, mon chou. Wanna tell me now?”
She turned her head, resting her chin on her shoulder. The urge to just let it drop was almost overwhelming, but Remy deserved the truth. Slowly, taking calming, even breaths, Ororo spilled the entire story to her friend.
He listened with patience not many knew him capable of. There were no snide comments or sighs of disappointment. When her long, sad tale was finished, he ran a hand through the short brown locks atop his head.
“Dat’s a relief.”
Frowning again, she raised a brow.
“Remy happy his Stormy realize she human is all.”
“Quiet.”
“Comere, petite,” he ordered in a soft tone.
She crossed the room instantly, watching as he settled in a semi-upright position against the headboard. Without a thought, she slid onto the bed beside him after shedding her bathrobe. He snuggled her into the crook of his arm, her cheek resting about the soothing beat of his heart.
“Seem ta me, petite,” he whispered in the dark. “You done made a mess a tings.”
“That would be the general consensus,” she admitted with a soft sigh.
“Thinkin’ too much again, me tink.”
“That is a very real possibility.”
“So, why not tink wit your ‘eart?”
“My heart got me into this mess.”
“Dat true, but my petite been lonely too long,” he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.
“Perhaps,” she nodded against his chest. “But that will not be cured with Logan.”
“Now, Gambit not so sure on dat score,” Remy scratched his chin with his free hand.
When he failed to continue, Ororo reached up to tug on his nose affectionately.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Petite, Remy ‘ere to ‘elp you, and he tink that right now, de best way to do dat is to keep ‘is mouth shut.”
“Typical,” she sighed, hating that he would not be telling her how to fix the situation.
“Get some sleep, ma cherie,” Remy’s singsong whisper instantly made her eyelids heavy. “Remy stayin’ ‘ere to kill any bad tings comin’ to bother his Stormy.”
Before he finished speaking, Ororo fell into a deep sleep for the first time in many months.
~**~
The morning after Rogue’s injuries and Remy’s arrival brought a howling storm. Ororo had felt it in her veins during the quiet hours before dawn. The subtle shift, as a tide pulled by the moon’s cycle, echoed in her blood.
While the wind banged the shutters and fat raindrops soaked the grounds, Ororo made her way downstairs with Prita in her arms. The squirming girl, now nearly a year old, tugged on a lock of her mother’s hair, repeating a garbled phrase to voice her displeasure.
It was still and silent through the mansion, many taking the less-than-sunny weather as a cue to sleep in a few hours longer. Unable to keep herself in bed as the elements whistled around her in song, Ororo entered the kitchen without spotting another living soul.
Remy was still asleep on her bed, dressed in his black trousers and boots, though he’d removed his usual vest and shirt to lounge in his white tee. It was remarkable, how easy she slept with him close by. There was no pressure on either of them, leading to deep slumber that left them refreshed come morning.
Prita squealed with laughter, making Ororo turn from her inward thoughts. Much to her dismay, her heart backflipped in her chest when she noted Logan smiling at the excited child in her arms.
“Mornin’,” he greeted in that curious tone most use in the early morning.
“Good morning,” she replied, managing to keep her voice level.
“Coffee’s fresh.”
“Thank you.”
She put Prita on the floor of the kitchen, ensuring the swinging door was closed to corral the adventurous child inside as her mother set about making breakfast. Ororo broke several eggs into a pan, then set thick slices of bacon to cook in another. It was only considerate that she cook for Logan as well.
Neither of them spoke, obviously content to let Prita’s babbling fill the air. Ororo kept one eye on the meal sizzling on the stove and another on her daughter. She’d already located the Tupperware containers in a drawer. Each plastic container was meticulously removed from the drawer, set up in line with the others, and then knocked down to peals of childish laughter.
Ororo tried to not notice the way Logan’s eyes strayed to the child as she played, that simple smile gracing his perfect lips.
With a mental slap, she focused on cooking, spooning helpings of scrambled eggs and bacon onto plates while bread crisped in the toaster.
“Uh, ‘Ro?”
Surprised that he’d used his nickname for her, she turned, giving him a puzzled look over the spotless marble island in the center of the kitchen. Logan’s eyes were on the floor, his mouth hanging open in awe.
Confused, she leaned over the island, searching for the cause of his sudden astonishment. It took her a moment to realize that Prita was no longer playing with the Tupperware. She stepped over the pile easily, watching out of the corner of her eye as Logan slid out of his chair to kneel on the floor.
“That’s it, girl, come to Logan. Come on.”
The spoon in Ororo’s hand dropped to the floor with a muted clatter as her hands flew up to cover her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes when she peered around the island, finding her little daughter standing upright.
Fat, wobbly legs were unsteady as she took an unassisted step toward Logan. The gruff man held his arms out, an encouraging smile on his handsome face. It might have been a trick of the light, but Ororo thought she caught a hint of proud tears in his eyes.
She stood, unable to move, as Prita’s little feet took two more steps. Ororo stretched one hand, as though to reach for her daughter. Fear of breaking the tender moment stayed her, and she watched with joy in her heart as Prita’s final steps brought her into Logan’s awaiting arms.
“Oh my God!”
Logan’s excited shout snapped Ororo out of her reverie. She rushed across the room, laughing merrily as the normally feral man swung her daughter around in undisguised glee.
“Did ya see that?” Logan questioned her, as though she might have missed a single moment of the remarkable incident. “She walked! She just stood up an’ walked right to me!”
“I cannot believe it!” Ororo reached up to kiss Prita nosily on the cheek. “First steps at only eleven months!”
“That was amazing,” he continued over Prita’s excited squeals. “I’ve never seen anyone’s first steps like that. Wow. That’s a rush.”
Ororo could not stop laughing. The skies, which only moment before had thrashed the grounds with rain and wind, cleared to reveal a bright sun and blue heaven. Her heart felt so full she was sure it would burst at any moment.
For some reason, she was glad Logan had witnessed the occasion with her. All of Prita’s other firsts “ sitting up, teeth, different foods “ had been enjoyed alone. Now, however, there was another that would forever carry the memory of her daughter’s first steps.
“She walked right to me,” Logan was saying, bouncing the baby on his hip like he’d done it all his life. “She just looked at me and got this look on her face. Like “I’m walkin’ right over there”. And she did it!”
“Yes, she does have a stubborn streak. It is almost a shock that it took her this long,” Ororo teased, grinning up at them.
“Gets that from her mom, I’m sure,” Logan returned the grin. “Damn, I wish we’d had a camera.”
“As do I,” she admitted as Logan placed Prita on the floor again. “Come on, darling girl, come to mother.”
She kneeled, as Logan had, stretching her arms out. Logan had taken a few steps back, leaving Prita just enough room for a repeat performance. As if on cue, she toddled toward her mother, faltering only slightly when her tiny hand released her hero’s.
Ororo swept her child into her arms, raining sloppy kisses on her cheeks to elicit excited squeals from the little one.
Almost immediately, though, Prita was struggling to be set free again. Ororo put her on the floor, not surprised when she awkwardly stepped back to Logan.
“I see she already rebels against her mother’s wishes,” Ororo said much more somberly.
Logan fell quiet, holding Prita close to his chest and rubbing her back with one massive hand.
“I should…” he cleared his throat. “Get out to the garage. Don’t want her gettin’ any ideas.”
Though she knew it was wrong, her heart clenched at the sorrow barely detectable in Logan’s voice. She swallowed over the lump of emotion in her throat and shook her head softly.
“No,” Ororo inhaled deeply, gathering courage. “Obviously, Prita adores you and it is not right for me to stand in the way of that relationship. Have breakfast with us and then, if you are not busy, would you care for her while I give Rogue a flying lesson?”
For a moment, their eyes locked across the precious few feet between them. She saw something flash in Logan’s dark eyes, though what she was unsure she could name. He kissed Prita’s forehead, then slid her into the highchair resting at the table.
“Yeah,” he nodded a moment later. “I think I can handle that.”
~**~
Ororo speaks:
I would love to say that it was my first mistake, allowing Logan and Prita to spend time together again, but it would be a lie. By this point, I had made so many mistakes it was impossible to keep track of them all.
The truth of it is, seeing Logan with Prita was too heart warming to ignore. They were obviously crazy about one another. We had breakfast in relative quiet, breaking the silence only when Remy and Marie joined us. We regaled them with tales of Prita’s first steps, then commanded another performance.
Though I had brought Remy to me in a panic, it was soon apparent to me that my friend had plans of his own. All through that morning, he seldom left Rogue’s side. I should have known something was in the wind, but I was too caught up with my own problems to sniff them out.
I never expected anything to come of that chaste relationship. Of course, I had spent so much time involved in my problems with Logan and the raising of my daughter that I saw very little.
That morning, Prita learned to walk, Logan began to compromise, and I taught Rogue how to fly.
