Chapter Eight: Lists
It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word, you can light up the dark
Try as I may I could never explain
What I hear when you don't say a thing
~Alison Krauss
Asking for help was not something either of them did well. In fact, Logan was not likely to admit to needing aid from anyone else. For someone that took care of everyone around them “ like ‘Ro “ asking for help for herself was worse than death. It was unthinkable.
She poured her heart out to him, begging for forgiveness he wasn’t sure was his to give. Cyclops’ comments seemed to have hit her the hardest. She respected Scott’s opinion more than many others. He was one of Storm’s oldest friends. Logan wanted to beat his face in for treating her that way, but grudgingly allowed other forces to intervene.
As was common when an X-Man had some sort of conniption, the group was gathered together the day after Storm’s return. Instead of the War Room, Xavier emptied out the recreation room, ensuring everyone would attend. The elder children watched after the younger while adults poured into the room like chastised offspring.
Logan refused help into the room, though Storm had held him up during the walk from the boathouse. He took a seat on the long sofa, giving the others a look that clearly said the space beside him was taken. ‘Ro had rarely left his side since her return and their answering machine overloaded with messages that went unanswered.
He had a long way to go with her. She rarely met his eyes and when she did, he could see the turbulent emotions she barely held in check. It was a mystery; how she had kept it all together before now. He thought, perhaps, that Magneto’s reappearance was the catalyst. She had spent her time helping Logan, free from thinking about what had happened.
Hurting the old bastard obviously flipped whatever mental switch she had depended on.
The other X-Men began to file into the room once Logan and Ororo were comfortable. He watched, worried, when Xavier and Storm refused to even meet gazes. The look on their mentor’s face spoke clearly of his pain. He wanted to help her, to forgive her, but until she ceased her emotional flogging, he doubted anything would be done.
Beast, Psylocke, and Angel all entered at once. The others trickled in a moment later, each taking up a position in the room. He noticed that even the couples seemed at odds together. The Magneto issue coupled with his and Storm’s problems seemed to have divided everyone. An invisible line was drawn in the sand and everyone was choosing sides.
Inwardly sighing, Logan shifted so he could put an arm on the back of the couch, an invitation for Storm to move closer as Betsy and Angel took seats beside her. Obviously, they were on Team Ro-Lo. He snickered at his private joke, then focused on the Professor.
“It seems,” the elder mutant began slowly. “That we have a series of problems to resolve, not only as individuals and mutants, but as a family.”
Ah, God. Logan thought, clenching his fists. Shrink speak. Again.
As though sensing his internal distress, Storm patted his thigh soothingly. He rewarded her with a small smile no one else could witness.
“This is a room without judgment,” Chuck said with meaning. “I will open the floor now. Who would like to speak?”
For a moment, every mutant in the room looked about, obviously unwilling to go first. Shaking his head at all of them, Logan raised his hand.
“Logan?”
I hate these flamin’ “tools”. Logan thought with venom, remembering to be polite at the very last moment.
He cleared his throat, then turned his eyes onto Cyclops. “My gettin’ injured wasn’t yer fault, bub. I went willingly. Shit happens. It’s no reason to blame anyone else but me.”
“Scott?” The Professor looked between the two men.
“Logan,” One-Eye said with a sigh. “I understand. As the team leader, I tend to take it hard when my teammates get injured. I will do my best to not feel guilty.”
“Do you, perhaps, blame yourself for Logan’s earlier injuries, Scott?” Chuck interjected quickly.
Logan almost laughed at the annoyed expression that crossed Cyke’s features. Jean caught his eye and they shared an amused glance before turning their attention back on the others.
“Yeah,” the mutant leader said with a nod. “I should have been there. I’m sorry it happened.”
“Logan, do you place any blame “ any at all “ on Cyclops for the incident?”
Grumbling to himself, Logan shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe a little. Like I said, though, shit happens. Magneto’s the one that went fer Storm an’ ripped the adamantium out. His fault. Not theirs.”
“Very good.” Chuck said, obviously pleased. “Is there anything else, Logan?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’m done fer now.”
And I get good boy points. Ha! Take that, One-Eye! Logan thought smugly.
“Who would like the floor now?”
“I’ll go,” Jean chirped instantly. “Storm?”
Wolverine’s arm stiffened around Ororo, but she turned to look at the red-haired telepath smoothly. Her aloof exterior was a joke, Logan knew. Inside, she was screaming. They both hated these little “bonding” meetings. With a passion.
“Yes, Jean?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Logan caught Rogue rolling her eyes. The young mutant covered the expression quickly. Jean looked ready to burst into tears, which only made Logan want to leave the room before he clawed something. That girl was always crying.
“I’m sorry that I was so rude and close-minded the other night.” Her chin quivered dangerously. “I was worried and upset, but that is no excuse for my behavior toward you.”
He could almost see Ororo’s true comeback inside that brilliant brain. She would never actually voice the likely rude thoughts churning inside her. Not ‘Ro, she would take anything they had to say to her with grace, compassion, and humility. Later, when they were alone, she’d let it loose with only Logan as a witness.
It was how she worked. She only released her anger with him.
“I understand, Jean,” replied his best friend calmly. “We are all going through a difficult time now.”
Come on, girl. Logan inwardly shook his head. At least tell her ta back off!
“We are, but you and Logan have borne the brunt of it,” Jean continued, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“We have,” Storm responded somewhat icily. “I did feel betrayed, but I know it was because of your concern for Logan’s well being.”
Jean smiled. Logan was dying inside, trying to hold in the laughter. He knew what Storm meant. She wasn’t fooled by Jean’s seeming humble admission. If he could have let both girls loose, he was certain he’d need Jell-O or mud for the cat fight that would ensue.
Since the previous day, Logan managed to tell Storm about Jean’s approach to the hammock the day of the Magneto attack. Storm, as expected, was not amused.
“Storm?”
“I have no more lingering issues with Jean,” she said smoothly. “Cyclops?”
Ah, here we go.
As though reading his thoughts, Cyclops stood a little straighter in his khaki slacks and polo shirt. He really did look like a boy scout. The man’s ruby gaze landed on Storm and the woman stood up. Gulping, Logan watched as they met in the center of the room.
No one had expected less. Two dominant people with history such as Storm and Cyclops often argued. Loudly. He was surprised this had not come up sooner. Everyone was here, in actuality, to watch Cyke and Storm square off. It was usually insanely entertaining.
“Got popcorn?” Betsy whispered to Wolverine.
He winked at her, not surprised to see Angel giving them both long-suffering sighs. The duo had been closest to Logan and ‘Ro before heading to England to work there. As a quartet, they were often spotted on the pier at the lake, drinking and generally being friendly. With them back, Logan knew ‘Ro felt they had some sort of allies.
‘Ro and Angel had forgiven one another the instant after the incident in the boathouse. The two of them just never remained angry at one another.
“Your words in the boathouse hurt me deeply,” Ororo admitted to the pin-drop quiet room. “I felt attacked and my home invaded. I made mistakes, but I believe a human being is allowed that luxury.”
“I hear what you are saying,” Cyke replied, using the ‘tools’. “I felt you had abandoned Wolverine, and the X-Men. I jumped to conclusions and spoke without thinking.”
“Yes, you did.” Logan could see Storm restraining herself. “My personal life is private, to anyone. My presence was not required for a mission nor was I contacted for one. I am currently on personal leave and therefore not bound to the mansion or the grounds. Your verbal attack was uncalled for, and unseemly in the presence of the rest of the team.”
Scott managed to look as though she’d physically slapped him. Logan fought the urge to clap wildly and hoot in an imitation of Arsenio Hall. Ororo was still as collected as ever, even as the Professor frowned slightly and Cyke looked ready to bail.
“I understand your feelings and respect them,” the man ground out. “It is simply unlike you to leave without explanation for so long. I was worried and in a crisis, I turned that worry into anger. I apologize.”
Ororo nodded. “I understand your feelings that I abandoned the team and my friends. I assure you, I will endeavor to not repeat my actions without warning.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
Logan let out the breath he had not known he was holding. Both Cyclops and Storm looked ready to go hand-to-hand, but he was sure the presence of everyone else halted the actions. Instead, they nodded to one another and ‘Ro came back to sit between Logan and Betsy. The women linked hands for a moment, but Ororo turned her attention to the Professor.
The elder mutant seemed unsure if things were resolved between his two protégés or not. He looked between them with a mixture of concern and bewilderment for several seconds. Logan raised a brow, shooting a glance to Angel, who shrugged lightly.
“Good,” Chuck said at long last. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”
“I do,” Cyclops said suddenly.
Shut up, One-Eye. Ya got off easy!
“Sir, this is for you,” the team leader’s voice was hard, which surprised many in the room. “What are we doing with Magneto?”
Several sharp intakes of breath sounded around the room, detectable by Logan’s acute hearing. He shot a glance around, noting every face seemed to dart looks to him and then the Professor.
“Magneto’s loss of memory poses a problem,” Chuck answered slowly. “Without his memory, which we cannot restore telepathically, he ceases to be a threat. However, I would like to hear opinions on this. Should we relocate him to Muir Island or keep him here?”
“He loses his memory and all’s forgiven?” Jean said suddenly. “I’m sorry, Charles, but that’s just…”
“Acceptable.”
Every eye in the room swung to Ororo at her soft interference. Logan, however, held her attention. She was searching his eyes, her pain evident. He wanted to scream at her, remind her of the hell he’d put them both through. He wanted to tell her that the idiot could easily be taken care of by a quick swipe of bone-claw. Her eyes pled with him, begging him to understand.
As usual, he broke under her pressure and nodded once. She took his hand in hers, squeezing lightly as she turned that blue gaze to the others. For a long moment, no one spoke. From the lack of breath in the air, he knew the room awaited her answer. More than anyone, Logan and Ororo’s opinions would be heeded in this situation.
Logan wanted to kill that old bastard, but the man ‘Ro had loved as a father was one and the same. He could not take that from her unless she asked.
“How can we punish him for crimes he does not remember?” She looked from Chuck to Jean and finally, to Scott. “It would not be justice, but revenge.”
“Storm…”
“I am sorry, Cyclops,” she cut in. “But I cannot condone harming him until his memory returns.”
“Are we even sure it’s real amnesia?” Psylocke chimed in.
“Fortunately, yes,” Beast replied, speaking for the first time. “The area of his brain that was damaged is exactly where memory is stored. The memories remain, yes, but the connection of his memory to conscious thought was injured.”
Logan held on to Storm’s hand, knowing the idea of how she had hurt her former friend was painful for her. She rarely spoke of it, even to him, but he knew from the look in her eyes how much it affected her. Nothing would make it right, in her eyes; just as nothing would make Magneto’s attack on Logan right. She was, as Hank would say, at an impasse.
“We should send him to Muir Island, into the capable hands of Ms Mac Taggart. Their facilities are more advanced than ours and if he does regain his memory, he can be confined there.” ‘Ro swallowed audibly.
For several minutes, no one spoke. Charles looked directly at Ororo and then Logan, as though trying to read them without his powers. It was obvious that they were directly responsible for whatever would happen to the amnesiac mutant terrorist. Logan trying to keep his reservations from his eyes, though he wasn’t certain he did.
“All right,” Charles said quietly. “All in favor?”
A surprising number of hands went into the air. Logan knew it was mainly because he and Storm had agreed. When the raised limbs were down again, Chuck nodded slowly.
“Magneto will be confined to Muir Island,” he said with an air of finality. “Does anyone else wish to speak on any other matter?”
When no one offered to speak “ most of them too consumed with their most recent decision “ Chuck called the meeting to an end. The group broke up quickly, soon leaving only Storm and Wolverine alone.
“Logan?”
“Hurt more than I expected.” He admitted, looking into that sapphire gaze. “But I think it’s right. Moria’ll help an’ if she can’t, at least he won’t do any more damage.”
“I am sorry,” she admitted softly. “I cannot…”
“Don’t worry bout it.” He stood with her help. “Lets go home and watch Die Hard.”
“All right.” Ororo took his arm, helping him into the hall before releasing him.
For a moment, just an instant, he believed ‘Ro loved Magneto more than he. It hurt deeply to think that if faced with a choice, she might choose someone else.
Damn. He thought with a mental sigh. We’ve both got miles ta go.
~**~
They were sitting together as the sun set on Xavier’s School. Atop the boathouse, which always felt like their own private world, working their way through a six-pack, two mutants were quiet. They faced the western sun; both of them sprawled comfortably on the rooftop.
Because Logan was still healing, Ororo had provided roof transportation, settling them both on the shingles as easily as a mother lifts a child. It had been several hours since the meeting in the mansion; neither of them were really up to talking about it. At ‘Ro’s silent suggestion “ which consisted of her holding up a six-pack and glancing at the ceiling “ he’d jumped at the chance.
It was uncommon for him to find a person, male or female, who understood the intricacies of a comfortable silence. It happened to be common knowledge that he did not like to speak if he could avoid it. For some reason, his trademark stoicism led many he interacted with to attempt filling up the silence. That really got annoying after a while. Why could people just not sit and be?
With ‘Ro, it was different. She could sit for hours upon hours without speaking. There was nothing she enjoyed better than a sunset on the boathouse with a beer. He glanced at her, noting the relaxed look on her beautiful face. It was the first time in the last weeks he had seen her at ease. Though they both had to talk at some point, about Magneto and her emotional troubles and his physical issues, at least for the moment they needed nothing, save the silence.
At some point, one of them might speak, of course. This was the place they told all of their secrets, revealed the places in their hearts and souls no on else was privy to. Here was where Ororo had picked apart his attraction to Jean. She’d carefully explained his own heart to him and won it as a reward.
“I slept with Scott,” she said suddenly, jarring him from his thoughts.
A spray of cold beer preceded his choking at her words. “What?”
‘Ro nodded, bringing her bottle back to her lips as she thumped him hard on the back to clear his airway.
“Uh-huh,” she replied, still looking at the multicolored sky. “It was some years ago, just before he realized that Jean was heaven personified.”
“Wow,” Logan commented, shocked at this particular revelation.
“It was only one night. I was lonely; he was…male. He was not all that bad, for a virgin. Very attentive.”
“’Ro,” he pled. “Stop before I vomit.”
Her slender shoulders rose and lowered again in a loose shrug. “I apologize.”
They sat together in their preferred silence for several minutes while he mulled this over. She had obviously not spoken of that experience to many people, and there had to be a reason she brought it up. He winced, but took a bracing draw from his bottle.
“What happened?”
Her expression did not change, though her eyes seemed more thoughtful.
“We were in the backyard, watching a sunset not unlike this one,” she continued without missing a beat. “He kissed me, apparently overcome by the romantic moment. The next thing I knew, we were without clothing and he had his hands in some interesting places.”
Feeling bile start to rise in his throat at the thought of Scooter nude “ not to mention rutting into the woman that would become Wolverine’s companion “ he swallowed thickly. By the twitch to the right corner of her mouth, he knew she was not finished. He did them both a favor and kept his trap shut.
“I thought, after a few more tumbles in the grass, that there might be something between us,” her voice struck a note of melancholy remembrance. “About two days later, he went to Jean professing undying love. He tried to tell me I had helped him see what was missing in his life.”
Ouch. Logan thought before speaking. “What ya heard was: ‘Sorry, ya were a nice lay, but ya made me realize how much prettier and sexier Jean is’.”
“Right in one.” Ororo saluted him with her bottle before polishing it off.
“That ain’t it,” Logan grunted. “She ain’t prettier an’ she definitely ain’t sexier.”
He was rewarded when she smiled at the swiftly setting sun. “I know that now. At the time, I wanted to claw her eyes out.”
Logan hissed like a cat, making her drop her head forward to laugh. “Reminds ya of it, don’t it? Whenever she gets all weepy an’ shit.”
“Oh yes.” Ororo brought her head back up. “She continuously reminds me that I was not the woman men want for life. I am the useable sort, good for a rough and tumble. I love Jean, dearly, but there are times I want to toss her into the lake and bring about a cold snap.”
Logan laughed, long and hard, over that mental image. Ororo punched him in the shoulder playfully at his obvious amusement. He felt, for the first time since the incident with Magneto in California, that this was just another night with his best friend. His loyal companion was smiling, relaxed, and making him laugh.
“It is ridiculous,” Ororo continued. “They deserve one another.”
“I wish ‘em hundreds of fat children.” Logan said sagely, controlling his laughter.
“I hope her hips spread and never return.”
“Someone’s a little catty tonight,” he grunted, grinning at her.
“I hate women.” She handed him her beer, smiling thanks when he popped a claw to open it. “I have much more fun with you.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, chucking his empty bottle into the air and waiting for the crash as it hit the ground. “An’ ya know I ain’t gonna steal Scooter from ya.”
She paused, then made a disgusted face. “I just went to a terrible visual place.”
“Hey, get that idea outta yer head!”
She laughed, holding her hands “ beer and all “ up in defense. “I apologize.”
They lapsed back into silence as the sun bid his final farewell, ducking below the line of the far off horizon. Dusk descended around them, but neither seemed in a hurry to move indoors. Even as the crisp fall evening chilled in the lack of light, they remained. He had brought his coat and she was immune to the cold. They could stay out a little longer.
Logan was holding onto this moment. He would not speak of Magneto yet; the need to simply reconnect with his friend overriding the impulse. Magneto had no place in their life. He knew ‘Ro understood that, no matter how she may have wanted him to be her Erik again. The very idea that Magneto had caused her pain filled his heart with rage, overwhelming whatever he felt personally.
He felt her come back to him with that admission. Deciding to return the gesture, he braced himself and spoke while looking at the gathering dark.
“I fucked Jean,” he admitted gruffly. “Just after Liberty Island.”
Silence. Logan glanced at his companion out of the corner of his eye. She was facing forward, the grip on her beer still light. He did not know why, but he had almost expected this confession to hurt her. Feeling it was safe to go on, he cleared his throat.
“I came on ta her, she accepted.” He shifted his booted feet, crossing them at the ankle. “Shocked the shit outta me. Wasn’t all bad, but I felt like an ass.”
Still, she said nothing, so he pushed on. It was odd, but he felt better telling her this, though it had been several years since the transgression.
“I didn’t even let her stay the night,” his voice was quiet. “I knew before she could say it. She still wanted One-Eye. I wasn’t enough fer her. Not the kinda guy a girl brings home ta Daddy.”
He heard his companion inhale, preparing to speak.
“Jean is a fool.” She took another swing from her beer. “She wants a man easily malleable, one that bends to her will. A woman who loves a man she can manipulate is either stupid or up to something.”
Logan turned his head, surprised to find her sapphire gaze meeting his. The honesty in those striking eyes was somewhat strange, at least to him. She was so loyal a companion, completely dedicated to him. He wondered, not for the first time, what he had done to deserve such faith from a woman.
“Ya don’t wanna man ya can manipulate?” His question left his lips before it solidified in his mind.
“No,” she answered immediately. “I want a man that can push me, fight me, respect me, and yet still show passion and dominance. Flash and fire. Kisses that leave me breathless.”
“That’s some list.” He took another draw from his bottle. “How’s Andy score on it?”
He watched her shrug.
“There is a reason I have ignored his messages.” She polished off another beer and tossed it easily, as he had done. “He was fun for a little release.”
“Not a keeper, huh?” Logan asked, pleased by this. He really couldn’t handle sharing ‘Ro right now, not when they had so much to deal with.
“Definitely not,” Ororo’s voice was strong, determined. “Have you heard from Callie?”
Logan might have been imagining it, but he thought he heard a touch of annoyance in her tone. He restrained his eyebrow from rising by sheer force of will.
“Naw,” he answered a moment later. “She knows the deal. We meet, have a roll in the hay, go on with life. She ain’t scorin’ high on my list.”
‘Ro smiled, a soft, teasing gesture that he returned. “You have a list?”
“Yup.”
“Well?”
“Not tellin’.”
His friend stuck her bottom lip out in a very adorable pout. He immediately looked away. That damn look could pry information out of James fuckin’ Bond. Though there was amusement sparkling in those amazing eyes, that full lip was something that yanked his armor down. While Jean’s quivering chin usually made him want to roll his eyes, ‘Ro’s just hit him in the gut.
“Fine!” He threw his hands up, sloshing beer on his jacket. “Stop poutin’ at me!”
She smiled triumphantly. It was so like their talks before that Logan momentarily forgot all about his injuries, Magneto, racing, and Ororo vanishing for a full day.
“I need someone warm, comfortin’,” he began, thinking on it. “She’s gotta be able ta handle the rage, the beast inside. Same time, she’s gotta look after the man, too. I want heat, an’ I don’t mean sexy looks. Heat like when ya connect with someone. When ya can sit in silence, like we do. She’s gotta be strong, maybe even willful, but she’s gotta bend every now an’ then. Greedy kisses. An’ hand holdin’. Gotta hold hands. I need forever.”
Ororo was staring at him in silence as he finished, something like admiration shining in her eyes.
“Logan.” She spoke after several seconds, in which he was steadily becoming uncomfortable. “You just described most women’s fantasy. Forever and hand-holding.”
He fought the urge to blush at her sweet and honest words. He doubted he would ever find a woman that would meet all of his criteria, someone that he could really see spending his life with. But there was hope that ‘Ro really knew what she was talking about. She was a woman after all.
For a moment, looking in the light of the rising moon, he realized he could be describing his best friend. That nasty, evil voice in the back of his mind chimed in that he checked off a good deal of her ‘list’ himself. Startled by the wayward thought, he turned his attention back to the ripening moon.
That wasn’t a good thought. They had enough to deal with. Unfortunately, his traitorous mind continued to poke at him while they finished their beers, falling back into that warm, familiar silence. He kept going over their friendship in his mind, almost scowling when his brain returned to their lists over and over again. If he didn’t stop this train of thought, he was going to find himself in serious trouble. Neither of them were at their mental peak.
When ‘Ro stretched and yawned, offering him a ride back off of the roof, he agreed, standing close so she could whisk them down. Once on the soft grass surrounding the boathouse, he bid her goodnight. Of their own accord, his eyes raked that beautiful form as she moved up the stairs. They were still sharing a bed. He would have to go up soon and lay with her.
Logan ran a hand through his hair, hating himself again. No good could come from this.
