[Reviews - 111]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 2589 times

- Text Size +




“So what’s Miss Grey’s deal, anyway? Why’s everyone so spooked that she’s back at the school? She seems nice,” Dani reasoned, watching the bag of popcorn puff and swell up through the microwave window.

“She is nice. She was. Nice. Kinda. Long story, Dani.”

“DVD’s already in the player. Marie’s saving us a spot in the den.” Jubilee foraged through the refrigerator and found the two-liter bottle of 7-Up and fetched a handful of red plastic cups from the cabinet. “You could give me the short version, if you want.”

“There isn’t one. No way can I give you the short version of everything that’s happened since I’ve been here, especially when it comes to Miss Grey.” Jubilee rolled her eyes for emphasis.

Dani was still confused even after the unusual student assembly in the auditorium that, Ororo explained, was supposed to help them understand that the teacher whose passing they had mourned mere months ago was miraculously walking among the living. How, Dani reasoned to herself, could they begin to describe this so it made any sense? A miracle? Or a mistake?

Her grandfather had always told her about spirits, and other amazing things about her people, including men and women who wore the forms of animals and used their unique gifts. She always marked it up to folk legends and her grandfather just wanting to pull her leg and tell her a good bedtime story. Then when she was fourteen, her favorite pony, Sparky, told her to scratch an itch on his left flank. She’d nearly dropped the brush that she was using to curry his coat. All of the sudden, they weren’t just tall tales anymore.

When Jean returned to the school, Dani pondered the meaning of her arrival in greater depth than her classmates, fully aware that just because something shouldn’t be able to happen didn’t mean that it wouldn’t. She ignored Sage’s verbose theories of the pretty redhead possibly being a clever double created from Miss Grey’s biological tissue; everyone knew that a body was never found at Alkali. What they heck could they have cloned her from in the first place? Cotton balls and an old piece of string? Sugar and spice? Belly button lint?

“I call the LazyBoy,” Dani declared.

“Dibs on the loveseat,” Jubilee shrugged. She didn’t bother with an ice bucket. Despite Jubilee’s claim that this was going to be a girl’s night in, Marie casually hinted that Bobby might join them. At least Jimmy was already upstairs in his room, playing video games on Artie’s Playstation console. There wasn’t any chance of Marie and Bobby sucking face. Jimmy had threatened to walk out and let “Marie’s powers turn you into vanilla pudding” the last time the two of them got mushy enough during their movie night to make everyone want to barf.

The girls padded down the hall to the den, both surprised to see Kitty on one end of the couch already.

“I thought you were headed out tonight for that dorky seminar on biophysics,” Jubilee huffed, cracking her gum.

“They cancelled it. The dean’s office offered me a refund on my ticket.” She turned her attention back to the screen, chuckling at Hugh Jackman fanning air on Ashley Judd during her favorite scene of “Something About You.”

“At least go get comfortable,” Jubilee snorted, taking in Kitty’s outfit. She still even had her boots on, a pair of chocolate brown Jimmy Choos with a daringly high heel that Jubilee would have killed for, shoe junkie that she was. She actually looked kinda pretty, she mused. Her brown hair had been bumped at the ends with a curling iron and she combed it with a zig-zag part, teasing a little volume into the crown. Long bangs framed her face, which she had made up with the “no make-up” look that included a kiss of blush, subtle mascara and a light coat of peach lip gloss that went well with her delicate coloring. She wore a ballet-style black tunic with three-quarter length sleeves that wrapped and tied itself at the waist, leaving a deep V-neckline that only revealed the lace-trimmed camisole that she wore underneath. Matching pencil-slim slacks hugged her trim legs, making her look taller.

“I’m deciding on whether to stay in.”

“What’s to decide? We’ve got Jackman movies, popcorn, soda, and the rest of the night to talk about how dorky Bobby was in gym class when he accidentally froze his pants off again. At least until Marie gets here.” Kitty grinned.

“Sure sounds like fun,” rumbled a deep and familiar voice from the corridor. Dani craned her head around to see Peter looking surprisingly dapper in a black poet’s shirt tucked into charcoal linen pants with a sharp crease. He held Kitty’s jacket over his arm and nodded at her, rewarding her with a smile none of the other girls had ever witnessed until then. “Ready, Katya?”

Katya? Jubilee mouthed to Dani. She looked just as clueless. What was their deal?

“G’night,” Kitty waved sheepishly before hurrying out, waiting to take Peter’s arm when they walked out the front door.

“Well, hush my mouth,” Dani muttered. “Did those two just go out on a date?”

“You saw it here first,” Jubilee grinned. “I can’t wait to tell Marie about this!”

“You’re awful,” Dani chuffed, flicking a piece of popcorn at Jubilee to emphasize the point.

“It’s my calling in life.” Dani sighed over the ending of the movie, noticing that Hugh wasn’t much for open-mouthed kissing in what still managed to be a hot liplock.

“I love his hair,” she smiled.

“I love his eyebrow and that funny little thing he does with it,” Jubilee added, emulating it with hysterical results. The two of them giggled, and Dani almost snorted 7-Up back up her nose when Jubilee poked her to get her attention and did it again.

“What else have we got?”

Jubilee pawed through the bag of DVD rentals. “Hmmm. The Phone Booth?”

“Eh.”

“Pirates of the Caribbean?”

“Seen it.” Johnny Depp looked too pretty for her taste in that black eyeliner, anyway.

“Lord of the Rings?”

“I thought this was a girls’ night in,” Dani whined.

“Keep yer panties on! Ooooh…hold the phone, I think we have a winner. Sweet Home Alabama?”

“Whoo-hoo!” That was more like it. Even if it was torrid and sappy, Dani was in the mood for a chick flick. This one fit the bill.

The next ten minutes found them settling in and watching the “coming soon” previews of other girl-powered movies before the main feature menu. Everything was going fine until Dani heard Marie’s girlish drawl.

“Mind if we join ya?” To Dani’s disgust, Marie was still wearing her jeans from earlier in the day, her only concession to it being girls’ night the silly little pair of Hello Kitty ankle socks trimmed in pink hearts. Her gloved hand was laced through Bobby’s, and the two of them plopped onto the couch. Dani groaned. She and Jubes followed the unwritten rule that when you stayed in to watch a two-hankie chick flick with greasy popcorn and soda, the expected attire was ugly sweats, jimmies and bunny slippers that would never see the light of day. Looking cute in the hopes that boys would show up violated that rule. Just as Marie was now, since she’d not only stayed dolled up, but she brought a man into their private little Paradise Island. She wanted to cry foul.

Then Warren walked in, wings folded neatly against his back, and his sky blue eyes lit up when he noticed Jubilee on the love seat. Well, that just tore it.

She hated feeling like the fifth wheel.

Dani nudged the popcorn bowl to the middle of the table.

“Dani, you’re missing the good part! Don’t leave,” Jubilee protested halfheartedly, but her attention was diverted when Warren refilled her nearly empty cup of soda without being asked.

“I need some air. Laterzzz,” she cried in her best So-Cal accent, made all the more ludicrous since she was from the Midwest.

Dani crept out the back door of the kitchen in her fuzzy terry cloth slippers with Power Puff Girl heads winking back up at her with every step. She hugged her pajama top more snugly against her as she made her way to the stables.

The Professor didn’t keep horses anymore, with all of the safety regulations about maintaining the school grounds and keeping the younger students safe. Dani also knew it was a fool’s errand to try to keep animals safe and protected from the likes of Stryker and his soldiers if they were ever invaded again. Dani wanted to feel safe. She was hardly defenseless. But some nights, her parents’ voices came to her in her sleep, assuring her that they would be back soon. They never did.

She climbed the slightly creaky ladder to the hayloft and turned on the small battery-operated lantern to better illuminate the open space on her way back down. It was a cold but clear night, and the sky was inky and full of stars. She could have sworn a falling star whizzed over the basketball court. She unrolled a thick, coarse southwestern blanket and spread it over the boards to keep the bits of stray hay from poking her skin through her pajamas. The breeze stirred her hair as she leaned out the window. She was so deeply mired in her thoughts that she dozed off by the window, letting the breeze caress her cheek and bring in the scents of the outdoors.

The peace didn’t last long. Screams and sharp teeth dripping with blood invaded her sleep, and terror clawed its way into her throat. She moaned and whimpered and felt herself running, staying mere steps ahead of the behemoth that was hot on her tail…hungry.

Soft footsteps on the ladder rungs woke her with a start.

“WHOOZZAT!” Her hair flew forward in a fluttering black curtain as she faced the interloper, eyes blazing and alert.

“Dani! It’s just me, gal. Sam,” he replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “What’re ya doin’ up here all by yer lonesome?”

“Nothing.” She amended that. “Escaping.” She didn’t launch into an explanations of the dream that plagued her, but he’d heard her tiny cries on his way into the stable on his nightly stroll. He didn’t pry. “It was supposed to be a great big, sappy sob fest with the girls tonight. Turned out to be date night instead.” He gave her a look that said that she’d lost him at “sob fest” before he hoisted himself into the loft. Sam had unwittingly followed the girls’ night in rule, looking cuter than she would normally admit in his pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved Creed concert tee.

“Felt like the odd man out, huh? That stinks.”

“Why aren’t you in there? We had a couple of guy flicks. If you like Colin Farrell or Johnny Depp.”

“Ah don’t. Too trendy. Ah’m more into Bruce Willis. Loved The Whole Nine Yards.”

“Yeah! That movie kicked ass,” she chuckled, smoothing back a lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear. That’s when it hit Sam that he felt relaxed around her, and that she was fun to talk to about pretty much anything.

It didn’t hurt, either, that she was damned cute. Especially with sleep-tousled black hair and the starry sky behind her like that, throwing moonlight over her face as she leaned against the window jamb.

“Was that a good concert?” She nodded to his shirt.

“Dunno. Mah kid brother Jay went and brought this back. Ah stole it from him. He promised t’steal it back the next time Ah went home.”

“What’s he like?”

“Like a brother, I guess. A pain in the patoot.”

“Patoot?” Her grin was sly and appreciative. “Gonna have to use that one.”

“Feel free.”

“Was it fun having a big family?”

“It was til mah daddy died. Then Ah had ta be the breadwinner and make sure everyone had a full plate and got t’school every day. Then Ah wasn’t the big brother anymore. Ah was the man of the house. Jay hated mah guts.”

“He probably looked up to you.”

“Wouldn’t know it by the stuff he used t’do t’work mah last nerve. One time he put blue hair dye inta mah shampoo; turned mah hair this weird shade of slime green that wouldn’t wash out fer a week. The guys in the mines used ta tell me that Ah looked like their kids’ Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ toys just t’be funny.”

“Green??”

“Y’ahp.”

“Geez…I can’t picture it.”

“Can’t say that Ah mind!”

“No, I mean…you’re so…wholesome.” He quirked a brow at her. “Normal. Cornfed. The green hair just doesn’t fit you. Have you ever tried anything daring like that?”

“Dated a girl who had her own band once. Mah momma actually took a liking to her, but it didn’t last. She convinced me Ah needed t’loosen up a bit, an’ she bought me this wild punk rock outfit, leather dog collars an’ all. Ah looked a fright. Scared mah kid sister Melody when she saw me!” he chuckled. He picked at the hay, playing idly with a few straws and dragging them through his long, slim fingers.

“I like something with a little pizzazz once in a while,” she admitted, “not that anyone notices, anyway.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I just…I dunno. I feel like no one pays attention to me. Sometimes that can be a good thing. Back when my powers showed up, I couldn’t be around people at all. I just wanted to fade into the wallpaper. I just spent all day in the mountains until my grandfather called me down to dinner or needed help with the stock.”

“Didja live on a ranch?”

“Yep. Loved it. City life isn’t my thing, except to take in the occasional show or hit the mall.”

“Can’t blame ya. Ah lived in the hills. Ain’t nuthin’ like it. Mah internal clock was always set t’wake me up at dawn. Sun looked downright purty comin’ up over the hilltops.”

“I bet. Should’ve seen it from the Rockies. You wanna talk about ‘died and gone to heaven,’ and that’s it. Trust me.”

“Ah do.” When she turned away to look down at the grounds outside, she felt a tiny, scratchy object pelt her but brushed it away. Then another one made it into her hair.

“What…SAM! Butthead! Quit it!” she scolded him as he was just about to ping her with a small handful of straw.

“What? Ah ain’t doin’ anythin’, gal!” He was the picture of innocence, except for the mischievous glint in his eyes that were the same blue as knitted baby booties. The corner of his mouth rode just a fraction too high for her to be convinced.

“I get my own back. I don’t think you don’t want any of this!” she warned him.

“Any of what?” One wheat blond eyebrow quirked up in silent challenge.

The next moment Dani and Sam were rolling in a mad, cackling tumble over the blanket, each ducking handfuls of crisp, scratchy hay, tickles so merciless that they begged the victim to pee their pants, and various jabs against vulnerable, sensitive muscle and weak spots.

“Say uncle,” she growled.

“Aw, heck no! Ah’m just gettin’ warmed up, l’il girly!” Dani’s long black hair was speckled with bits of hay and fanned out wildly across her shoulders as she flung one leg over Sam’s rib cage to subdue him. His breath “WHOOULLLF!-ed” out of him as she monkeyed the back of his knee with her knuckles.

“AACCK!”

“C’mon, say it,” she offered. “You know you want to.”

“Who wants to?” He levered himself and managed to pry her leg loose, using the momentum to flip her onto her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her chest, and in a move that surprised her, he managed to lock her arms behind her bag in a hold that she hadn’t learned to break yet.

“Ohhhh, you don’t want me to get loose from this!”

“Sure Ah do! Gotta teach ya another lesson, gal,” he drawled, still pretty sure of himself. “What’s the magic word?”

“I’ll show you magic, buddy boy!” Sam was solid and lean, and she rocked herself in a jerking movement that managed to unbalance his straddle across her waist. She worked her arms loose, but found herself pinned again, this time on her back. Her expression mingled aggravation and amusement as she panted to catch her breath.

“Ah’m waitin’!”

“You’ll be waiting all night. I still won’t give.”

“Ah might as well get comfy, then,” he murmured, yawning and patting his mouth for emphasis. He cocked his hand at his ear. “What was that, Dani? Uncle? Truce? Ah couldn’t hear ya.”

“At least your hearing’s fine,” she smirked. Even though her arms were clamped against her sides, she still managed to twist her hand beneath him and give a sensitive spot on this thigh a savage pinch.

“GAHHH!”

“Gotcha.” There went his grip on her again, and she took advantage of the opportunity to tickle him with crablike fingers that unerringly found every rib and left no inch of his obliques severely, gleefully tortured.

“ACK! Hee-hee…quit it! DANG IT, STOP! Ah-ha-ha-haaa…Ah’m gonna..getcha…back (snort) jest you wait!” His whole torso buckled with the effort to protect himself from her hands, and her smile was positively wicked. His armpits were equally satisfying targets, but she eventually found that reaching farther up to get them also left her just as vulnerable and brought him even closer.

“Say Uncle,” she huffed.

“Uh-uh…”

“You know you want to,” she purred, goosing his armpit one more time before he wrested her hands away and pinned them on either side of her head. She was a sight for sore eyes, hair fanned out and still speckled with hay, hopelessly tangled except for a few strands that were caught in her lashes. She blew them off impatiently, her cheeks flooded with color, dark eyes shining up at him. The faint purse of her lips as she blew the offending strands up made him notice her mouth. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’. Yer a mess,” he remarked.

“Gee, thanks!”

“Welcome,” he grunted, returning her slow and easy smile. “Dani?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“Uncle.”

“You give up? That’s it?”

“Nope.” Her arms relaxed, all of the tension of working up another counterattack fleeing as he softened his grip on her wrists. His thumb stroked the smooth inner flesh and traced the veins standing out in stark relief from their struggle. The caress made her stomach flutter. “Ah just didn’t want ya ta attack me again. Get’s a mite distracting.” He released her other wrist and brushed the remaining strands of hair from her eyes. Her smile gradually faded, and she looked at him in wonder.

“Sam?” she whispered. She shifted beneath him again, wiggling to get more comfortable this time instead of trying to shake him off. She let her long legs stretch and sprawl against the rumpled blanket as he began the painstaking process of plucking out stray bits of hay from her hair, smoothing the tangles as he went. His touch was tender when his fingers occasionally brushed her face and neck. She was afraid to question if it was intentional; she didn’t want him to stop.

“See? Ah’m not a sore loser,” he cajoled.

“You didn’t lose,” she reminded him. “Not this time, anyway,” she promised, stifling a smile.

“Hm. Ah guess not.”

“Sam…at the risk of sounding obvious, you’re still on top of me.”

“Hm. Whaddya know ‘bout that. Ah am.” He was. And he didn’t look as though he planned on moving off of her anytime soon, either. If anything, it looked like he intended to make himself more at home. He validated her theory when he stretched himself over her and rested on his elbows, fitting his body against hers, flush against her soft valleys and slopes. Her flesh woke up, tingling beneath his warmth, and her hands crept up to pick a bit of hay that drifted up into his eyebrow. She snickered briefly, then studied his face, memorizing his lean, high cheekbones and angular jaw and the way his lips twitched in thought. He had a faint dimple when he smiled like that, she noticed. She teased it with her fingertip.

“Kay. Just so you knew.” She lightly smoothed her finger over his brow, unrumpling it before she began brushing off the dust from his shirt. Dani felt his taut muscles and shoulders beneath the Tide-scented cotton of his shirt, and her hands stilled a moment, only to stop the brisk brushing and roam his narrow frame. A frisson of pleasure curled in her stomach. “One more thing, Hayseed.”

“What’s that, Chief?” They each took refuge in the nicknames that were borne of Danger Room sessions that found them trying to outdo each other at every turn. His lips feathered over her forehead, barely touching it, before they trailed kisses light as a feather down the slope of her nose, nibbling on the tip.

“Uncle.” She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and tugged him down to her, kissing him tentatively at first, then with growing hunger. Her heart slammed in her chest when she felt his hands tangle in her silky hair, and her lips were yielding, even welcoming as he pressed closer, wanting to explore her heat and sweetness. She pushed aside the alarm that she felt as her fingers trembled, combing through his fine blond hair and cupping the shape of his skull, kneading a tendon behind his ear. He moaned his approval at her knowing touch as he gathered her more snugly into his arms and rolled them over. Sam captured her shocked giggle with his mouth, and her hair hid their faces in a curtain that blocked out most of the moonlight as they continued to “keep the peace.” His skimmed his flattened palms down her back, making her writhe against him instinctively, even though she knew that was a dangerous position to find herself in. Their kisses slowed, still liquid but less frantic, and Dani finally broke away to stare down into his beautiful eyes, framing his face in her hands.

“What’s this about, Sam?”

“Might not be all that obvious, but Ah kinda like ya, Dani. Ah’ve kinda felt that way aboutcha fer a while.”

“Oh. Good. That’s…good. I, um, kind of noticed you. And I like you. I mean, I like you, like you.” She punctuated that statement with another kiss that threatened to spiral out of control. She reigned it in, and she enjoyed the feel of his hands holding her hair back from her face as he drank in the look of passion there.

“Ah’m glad. Ah would’ve felt like ten kinds o’ jerk if Ah came up here and started wrasslin’ with ya, and ya didn’t feel the same. It’s nice t’be on the same page an’ all.”

“Oh, yeah! She kissed one eyelid, then the next as he blinked to allow her to continue, enjoying her steamy breath against his skin. Her lips explored his face leisurely until their lips met again, and Dani allowed Sam’s words whispered into her hair and light touch to chase away the nightmares that normally plagued her as they snuggled together and counted the stars. Sam’s heartbeat was steady and comforting against her cheek as she laid it against his chest, breathing in the fresh scent of detergent and his pleasant little Sam smell. Suddenly Dani didn’t feel like the odd man out.

Thankfully, Jubilee was sound asleep when she got back to their room. Sam had quietly kissed her goodnight in the darkened hall upstairs when they made their way inside. No way did she want Jubes to see her looking thoroughly mussed, still covered in bits of straw despite Sam’s efforts at brushing the worst of it off, and her cheeks flushed with the contented glow of being kissed by someone who knew what he was doing. She sat by the vanity and combed the worst of the tangles from her hair, wondering what Jubes would have thought of their little encounter if she knew.

Knowing Jubes, the inevitable “roll in the hay” accusations would have flown fast and furious and lasted for weeks.

The next few days found Logan itching with tension and anticipation, despite the “business as usual” atmosphere of the rest of the school. He taught his classes as usual, even the extra ones that he’d taken off of Ororo’s hands, but unease prickled at his nape and occasionally made him pause in the middle of a lecture, earning him bemused and puzzled glances from the rugrats before he gruffly shook it off.

Ororo was studiously avoiding him again. That pissed him off and just made that uneasy feeling multiply itself exponentially. Seeing Scooter and Jeannie back to their old tricks, mooning over each other and canoodling at every opportunity just made his frustration at Ororo’s reticence even greater. It dawned on him that he didn’t feel jealous anymore over seeing Jean kiss her fiancé, so much as it just aggravated him that whatever happened in their suite that night that Jean’s powers went crazy drove a wedge between him and the weather witch just when things were getting interesting. Sure, it walloped him upside the head when Jeannie came strolling back into their lives, but he’d finally begun piecing his life back together. That kicked in the chest feeling was finally starting to subside, and Ororo had a lot to do with that, but instead of just scooping up the shrapnel of his broken heart and pasting it back together, Ororo went and stole it away from him, the little brat.

Her scent haunted him. She always managed to be a few paces ahead of him, often leaving a room right before he made his entrance, so the most that he caught was the ripple of her white hair around the corner of a doorway as she took her leave. That fresh little scent of sandalwood and flowers “ even though the late fall had seen the last of the flowers fade and resume their sleep weeks ago “ teased his senses and made him growl under his breath. He wanted to drink his fill of it, and of her again if she would just friggin’ stand still for more than two seconds.

Logan learned that you had to be careful what you wished for. These lessons always bit him in the ass, he didn’t know why.

The beer can pyramid stood gleaming atop the small nightstand in the gloom of his bedroom suite. Faint moonlight from the first quarter crescent shone in through the window as he tossed his way through another restless sleep full of screams, blood and smoke. He was running again. Grimacing faces were rising up before him, and he slashed his way through bodies and limbs, trying to silence the shrieks but only succeeding in raising the clamor in his head. He was naked, cold and bleeding, his feet pricked by shards of glass and punished by the hard concrete of the facility that hosted angry-looking machinery and myriad wires sparking along the walls where they had severed.

The ground beneath him shook, throwing him off balance. His claws extended themselves against his will, puncturing his skin and filling his nostrils with the scent of more blood, this time his. He stumbled and fought to find purchase, and a low groan filled his room, even as his mind cried out until his vocal cords were hoarse. His fingers clawed the sheets and dug into the mattress beneath him as he seized and trembled.

“No,” he muttered. “No. No, nonono, get away, DON’T…won’t get me…”

His bed clattered itself away from the wall with the steady rumbling beneath him. The line between his dream and what was happening around him became increasingly blurred and thin.

The signature blast of Scott’s optic ray brought him fully awake and he flung himself upright, quaking and shivering with cold sweat. His bed, the entire floor, and every stick of furniture in his bedroom began vibrating and shuddering, and the childrens’ voices rose in alarm, this time drowning out the faint echo of his mind’s screams as he oriented himself.

He stepped from one bad dream straight into the scene of another as he raced out into the hall. The younger students were whimpering and crying, overwhelming his hearing, and he darted into the first one, banging open the door. Artie was rocking back and forth, clutching his pillow.

“Boogey man,” he whispered. “Wants to eat me.”

“Relax, kid, nothing’s gonna ““ Logan was interrupted by a low, guttural howling in the opposite corner of the room. He whipped around to face the plug-ugliest creature with slavering jowls and sharp yellow teeth advancing out and flailing slime-dripping tentacles.

“ARTIIIIIEEE…” it rasped. Logan’s claws came out as he threw himself between Artie and his tormentor.

“Help me, Mr. Logan!” he cried. He clenched his eyes shut and screamed again. “HELP ME!” His claws flew out, dicing through…nothing.

“What the flamin’ hell?”

The monster dissipated and vanished, tentacles still waving futilely. Logan spun to face Artie, who was still catching his breath in heaving gulps.

“What was that?” Artie shook his head, relaxing his hold on the pillow. Logan bent to check him over, looking for injuries. Not a hair on his head was out of place, no cuts, bruises or anything else to speak of. “Yer okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. Stay here.” More screams filled the corridor. He followed the source into each room, and was relieved to find Hank doing the same, looking downright silly in his striped pajama bottoms and bare, enormous feet. He lumbered into the boys’ suites, making sure they were fine. The sight that made terror creep up his spine hit him before he’d recovered himself when he checked Warren and Bobby’s suite.

“Don’t,” Warren yelped. “Don’t hurt me. Please!” Disembodied hands were groping his wings, grasping and tearing out his feathers in handfuls. He was curled over in a small ball on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“War! It’s okay! LOGAN!” Bobby cried out helplessly. “This just started a minute ago.” Logan slipped on a clump of ice but he managed to catch himself. “My ice has no effect on those things, whatever they are!”

“Might not hafta, pal,” he grunted. “WARREN!” he bellowed. “CALM DOWN, DAMN IT! This is in yer head!” He bent and clamped the trembling boy’s shoulders in his hands, jerking up to stare him in the eye. “It’s in yer head. Close yer eyes. It’s gonna go away. Yer not bein’ hurt,” he explained. “Yer not bein’ hurt. Look.” He nodded to his wings, which were still intact. Warren slowly met Logan’s gaze, his eyes full of disbelief. Logan nodded again. “S’okay, boy. Yer all right.”

The phantom hands disappeared. Warren jerked himself from Logan’s grip and rose shakily to his feet, then spread those impressive wings to see for himself. Not so much as a single, snowy feather was missing or bruised.

“Damn,” Bobby breathed.

“Sit tight. This ain’t over,” Logan growled. The shrieks from the girls’ wing were shrill and hadn’t decreased in volume yet. Kitty met him halfway in the halls where they converged. She grabbed his arm.

“I know how this is happening,” she gasped.

“Lead on, punkin’!” She yanked him after her in a run, pajama bottoms flapping as they reached Jubilee’s room.

“Dani’s the only one whose powers could do this,” Kitty hissed.

“She…was fine a minute ago. I’m scared, Logan! Please, help her!” Jubilee begged, wringing her hands as she knelt by Dani’s bed. “I can’t get her to wake up.”

Logan patted her soothingly before practically shoving her toward Kitty, who hugged gently as she watched Logan approach Dani, who was writhing and moaning gutturally, eyes open alarmingly wide, their irises rolled halfway back into her head. She seized and thrashed, and Logan narrowly dodged her flying fist before she could clobber him.

“Don’t…want to do this, I don’t want-to-do-this-is-issss!”

“Then don’t do it, kiddo.” Logan leaned in close, making shushing sounds through his lips to calm her. “Yer rilin’ up everybody, an’ I know ya don’t mean it. And ya know I hate ta do this…don’t hate me,” he pleaded, before he slapped her sharply. Her eyes rolled back to their normal position, searching his face and looking thoroughly dazed.

“Can’t…block out their thoughts. Hurts. Too much,” she informed him, clinging to his arm and digging in her nails. He winced but didn’t move away.

“Whose thoughts?”

“Theirs. Yours,” she whispered. “I’m…not supposed to be able to do this. S’not me.”

“Who is it?” he implored, and his earlier unease slammed into him full force.

“Miss Grey.”

“We’ve got her. Logan, go! NOW!” Kitty shooed him out, taking Dani from his arms and sending Jubilee for a damp rag. Logan’s last sight was of Dani absently rubbing her cheek.

“Sorry, punkin’, I know that didn’t tickle,” he called back.

“M’okay,” she called numbly. Hank was already at Scott and Jean’s suite by the time he got there, thoroughly rattled and ready to take names.

Jean was propped up against Scott, sobbing pitifully into his neck as he stroked her hair. Scott’s sleeping goggles were slightly crooked as though he had just put them on in a hurry.

“What the fuck was that all about, Summers!”

“Calm down, Logan,” Beast suggested, even though his fur was standing on end.

“I couldn’t begin to explain this,” Scott rasped.

“Try, Scooter!”

“Quit calling me that,” he snapped. Then he recovered himself enough to admit, “We had an accident.” He gestured to the ceiling with a small flick of his fingers. Logan peered up at the pair of wide, nearly identical holes in the ceiling drywall, jagged and gaping, still raining bits of crumbled plaster on the floor.

“Holeee…’Ro. ‘Roro! Outta the way, Hank!”

“Logan…”

“MOVE!” He flew up the stairs to Ororo’s attic loft, taking them two at a time.

Ororo’s loft was cold. Icy drafts of wind stirred the draperies and whistled in through the open skylight, which she had flung askew during the quake. Logan stumbled in through the door, which was already ajar.

Ororo sat huddled on the bed, bathed in a puddle of moonlight, shivering and clutching the coverlet to her chin.

“Can’t let it…bury me. Not again,” she vowed.

“Not again?” He eased his way to the bed, reaching for her…

“Everything was falling down, Logan!” she insisted, her voice rising to a hysterical babble. “Everything came crashing down! It was dark…cold. Couldn’t get free.” She shook her head against the phantoms, clenching her eyes shut. Logan’s eyes scanned her room, only then noticing the holes in the floor that he’d just missed stumbling into. They were roughly the same size and shape as the ones in Summers’ ceiling, and he gawked at the matching set punched through Ororo’s.

“Shit.” No wonder she was spooked. What a crappy way to wake up.

“I won’t let it happen again. I won’t be trapped again,” she claimed, jutting her chin at him in a defiant gesture that wrenched him closer to the bed and tugged at his heart.

“’Course ya won’t, sweetheart,” he soothed. “I won’t let ya. I’d never let that happen t’you.” He was yanked from his attempt at comfort when the first few drops of rain slapped his skin from the holes in the roof. Thunder rolled overhead, only adding to the terrors shaking up the occupants of the school and troubling their sleep.

“No thunder, darlin’. Everyone’s already afraid. Don’t send everyone runnin’ ta hide in the closet with a storm, too. I know ya can stop this.”

“I…don’t want to,” she grated out.

“C’mon, then,” he urged. Her muscles were still tightly knotted, and she almost didn’t let him peel the covers away from her as he tugged her from the bed. He carefully examined her the way in the same manner that he had each of the kids, checking for injury. Tiny bits of ceiling plaster decorated her hair, and he plucked them out solicitously. She staggered against him as he led her to the balcony and flung open the doors. “Let’s get some air.” The house was well fortified against the elements, so Logan knew they wouldn’t have to worry about shingles from the roof or loosened shutters assailing them while they were outside. Ororo gratefully leaned her hands against the railing and sucked in gulps of air, letting the gusts caress her, sensually ruffling her hair. Her hectic pallor faded, and her eyes fluttered shut, but her face was still showing lines of strain, and her lips were still pale. Logan was almost afraid to touch her; she was still skittish and looked like any contact would send her running “ or flying “ for open spaces free from anything that would hem her in.

“I heard the blast,” she whispered.

“Me, too,” he qualified.

“Everything started shaking. I wanted to fly, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. One minute, I was playing on the floor with my dolls, and my mother was making lunch. My father was reading his newspaper clippings and putting them into the scrapbook. Then everything started to shake.” He involuntarily approached her, barely letting his chest skim her back, and he couldn’t stop himself from touching her hair. He wasn’t the only one whose nightmares had come to life with crystal clarity. It rankled him that she’d had to suffer in the same manner that he had.

“A stray shell from a fighter jet hit the roof of our house in Cairo,” she continued. “The roof collapsed. Everything went black.” She swallowed against a lump that threatened to choke her. “I know you don’t need to hear this.”

“No, ya don’t know that, and yes I do, damn it! Go on.” His fingers kneaded the kinks from her neck, fanning out across her skin and giving her tangible proof that she was awake and not alone.

“I wanted to wake up. I tried. It wouldn’t go away. Everything was falling down around my ears. My mother’s voice was so weak, I could barely hear her. She called for my father. He never answered her, Logan! Not one word. I was trapped. I couldn’t move. I just saw her eyes, staring at me. I kept begging her to tell me it was okay, that we’d get out…” her voice trailed off. “They left me all alone, Logan,” she cried. “I was all alone in the dark.” He pulled her back from the railing and ignored his earlier nervousness at not wanting to crowd her. He turned her and urged her into his embrace, both gentle and brooking no refusal. He needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held.

“Yer not alone now, darlin’, okay? Yer gonna be all right. Yer not alone.” If he had his way, she never would be again, even though he struggled to figure out where that thought came from. A light rain pelted them, chilling his flesh, and she burrowed more deeply into his warm bulk, sighing as he tucked her head under his chin in a protective gesture. Amidst the still-swirling maelstrom Ororo felt safe and secure as Logan stroked her back, without the lust or urgency that characterized their previous encounters.

“We need to check on the others, Logan.” Her voice was muffled against his cotton undershirt.

“Already handled that.” He wasn’t ready to let go of her yet. Having her sweet, yielding body pressed against him satisfied all of his senses and his fierce need to keep her close. His lips moved over her hair, and she was dimly aware that he was kissing her, whisper-soft.

“I should check on the children. And on Jean.” He stiffened at the sound of her name.

“She’s with Summers. He and Hank have it under control.” For now, his brain amended sourly. Who knew what the remainder of the night would bring.

“What happened, Logan?”

“I get the feelin’, darlin’ that Jeannie happened. Not just the house. And not just the bad dreams. All of ‘em,” he emphasized, “including mine.” She didn’t press him for details, but she met his gaze with sympathy, cradling his jaw in her palm. “Dani was pretty spooked.”

“Dani?”

“Her powers ran amok. She zapped the whole house with their worst nightmare. Kid didn’t mean it.”

“Logan…do you feel edgy right now?” she inquired, drawing away to get her bearings, leaning back against the railing. Her eyes were clouding over, glowing that eerie shade of blue and sparking with electricity. “I can’t explain it. It’s like…I can’t turn my powers off.”

“Yeah?” That told him volumes. His own senses were swimming, making his skin itch and tingle. The night sounds from the surrounding woods came to him more sharply, and the howling winds were deafening, threatening to give him a splitting headache. “She might not be done yet!”

“Let’s go,” she confirmed, spurring him back inside. They put aside the tentative understanding between them, both loathe to leave things hanging in mid-air. Thunder clamored outside, hastening their retreat.

“It just never stops,” she griped. He chuckled harshly in agreement. They reached Jean’s room, and this time Logan let Ororo go inside first, refusing to have a repeat of the awkward night from a few weeks ago. Jean’s words still chafed him.

“I didn’t mean it,” she stammered when Ororo knelt by her and took her hand. Ororo rubbed Jean’s knee soothingly.

“I know you didn’t.”

“I…I wanted to see his eyes. That’s all. Just for a minute.”

“Is that how it started?”

“Hank?” Scott interrupted. “Maybe you and Logan should head on downstairs and make some coffee.”

“Make mine beer,” Logan grunted. Scott managed a weak grin and nodded as they made their exit. He knew Hank was straining his ears and walking slowly like he was, trying to catch the last stray bits of conversation, but they weren’t forthcoming. He was relieved when he heard Ororo’s reassuring words that it was okay, no one was angry at Jean. Just frightened, that was all.

“Scott, why weren’t you wearing your glasses?” She forced herself to sound calm, but her eyes were still in their transitional, milky state, flickering as the weather outside ebbed and peaked. It created an eerie wall of noise that underscored their meeting. Scott rubbed Jean’s back, willing her to come up with a feasible explanation, even though all of them escaped him.

“It was selfish. So childish, I know,” Jean confessed, “but it’s been nagging at me. I love him,” and this time, she gazed at Scott, even though she was speaking to Ororo, “so much. We share so much. I didn’t want him to have to hide himself from me. It’s such a small thing…” her voice trailed off. “I wanted to have all of him. All to myself. Just for a moment. Without hiding anything.”

“I’d never hide anything from you,” he rallied. “Ever.”

“We were together…here…you know,” she hedged. Ororo nodded; she resisted the urge to yell “Too much information!” and plug her ears, but her cheeks felt hot from the revelation. “And…it was so…beautiful to be back with him again. I wanted to see his eyes when he…” She let out a strangled cry, and Scott wiped away the tears that darted in zig-zags down her cheeks with his thumb. “All of the sudden, I was holding his power back. Like putting a cap back onto a bottle before it foams over the top. I thought I could handle it. Then all of the sudden, I lost control of my telepathy. I could feel Scott’s thoughts, his feelings…his love.” He kissed her temple, and Ororo nodded in understanding. “It’s an awesome sensation. I can’t even describe it. But then, everything just…got away from me. I could hear everyone’s thoughts. I couldn’t shut them out. I reached for a lifeline, one set of thoughts to latch onto to help me focus…and Dani was having a bad dream.”

“Goddess,” Ororo breathed. She gave Jean’s hand a squeeze.

“I zeroed in on her, and accidentally pulled her in with me. So she really couldn’t help it. This wasn’t her fault.”

“Jean, listen to me. Right now, you’re on a short tether. Look at me,” she indicated, drawing her attention to her glowing eyes. “Listen to what’s going on outside. I need you to help me calm the storm. It’s not just me. Scott has his glasses, but everyone’s fighting to control their powers right now, because you’re still reaching out through all of them. Not just their thoughts. Through their need to protect themselves.”

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she stammered.

“You don’t have a choice,” Ororo declared more firmly. The same determination tinged with grief that marked her journey to Alcatraz Island on that fateful night reared its head now. “Think of the children, Jean. They’re scared right now. Terrified. It’s our duty as their teachers to protect them, even if that means protecting them from ourselves.” She found herself on the receiving end of an indignant glare from piercing, watery green eyes.

“No one thought of me,” she whispered. “Where were you when I needed you, Ororo?”

“Jean ““

“I asked her a question, Scott!” she warned menacingly. “When I was just floating adrift in the dark, without any anchor, all alone, where were you?”

“Praying that it wasn’t real. That you hadn’t left.” She had a white-knuckled grip on Jean’s fingers, nearly bruising them. She felt that moment that Jean accepted it as the truth. Her shoulders sagged, and her eyes were no longer as dilated. The frantic energy charging every cell in Ororo’s body died down and filtered away, and her own eyes reverted to their customary, velvety depths.

“Much better,” Ororo sighed.

“You want to control me, don’t you?” Jean prodded, stunning her.

“No.” She rose from her perch by her side and stepped back. “I want you to be able to control yourself.” She nodded to Scott. “Get some rest. Both of you.” She felt Jean’s eyes boring into her back and felt a vestige of concern from Scott as she stalked out. In typical, unflappable fashion, Ororo made her rounds of each dorm, checking on the children and tucking the younger students back in. When she reached the boy’s wing, she peered inside Warren and Bobby’s room and wasn’t completely surprised to find Bobby looking exhausted and flummoxed, leaning his back against the wall as he sat on his bed, watching Warren vigilantly while Jubilee stood beside him, with his arms looped around her waist. She smoothed his thick blonde hair back from his brow, and Ororo was touched at the affection and concern she saw on the normally carefree girl’s face. Almost reverently, she occasionally paused from stroking his hair to caress his wings, covetously skimming her fingers through the luxurious loft of his feathers. It pulled at her when she heard Jubilee assure him, like Logan told her only minutes ago, that she wouldn’t leave him alone.

Ororo opted to give her a few more minutes with Warren while she went back to the girls’ dormitory, tucking Artie and Jimmy back in and giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. Sage, Sam and Kitty each flanked Dani, fussing over her and eliciting a weak smile from her where she lay bundled under the covers.

“Ya worried me, gal,” Sam scolded.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Ah’d hate fer anything ta happen to ya, Chief.”

“You, too.” Ororo was surprised to see him kiss her forehead unabashedly, even though they had company. She exchanged smiles with Kitty, who noticed her hovering outside the door.

“We’ve got things under control, Fearless Leader,” she quipped.

“All right then. Bed!” She shooed everyone out except for Dani, reassuring her that she was all in one piece.

“My powers have never just…run wild like that. I never meant to hurt you, Ororo. Ever.” Ororo patted her leg from over the covers.

“I know. And as you learn to stronger control, the longer you’re here, things like this will be fewer and farther in-between. This may never happen again,” she concluded brightly. “Although,” she admitted aloud, “it’s times like this that I truly miss Charles. He was better at handling crises such as these involving everyone’s thoughts. It’s more his area of expertise.”

“You’re doing just fine,” Dani smiled.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I feel better already,” she grinned back. “I’m off to round up Jubilee. Get some sleep.”

“G’night, Ororo.” Jubilee came along obediently, albeit unwilling to pry herself loose from Warren. His eyes followed her from the room before he shut the door and extinguished their overhead light. Soon Ororo was standing along in the corridor, completely dark once all the lights were out.

Back in Scott and Jean’s room, Scott steeled himself, fully prepared to keep vigil over Jean, but he found himself drifting off slowly, yawning as he settled her against his chest.

“Not…leaving…youuuu.”

“I know you won’t.” She stroked his jaw, once again covered in a fine layer of stubble that she’d begun to grow fond of. His cheeks had grown sharper and more hollow over the past few weeks, in spite of the progress that they’d made growing reacquainted with each other. Her knowledge of him grew stronger and more familiar, and the memories of the cold, dank metal complex were pushed farther back into her mind. She laid a gentle telepathic “blanket” over his consciousness and tweaked his serotonin levels, mentally exhausting him and nudging him into blissful oblivion.

Scott dreamed of holding the woman he loved in his arms. Jean lay awake, with visions of fire and destruction running rampantly through her mind.

“Sinner,” she whispered into the silence of the room. Sinners, corrected that strange, brittle male voice in her head. The scar on her nape tingled again, but once again, she ignored it.





You must login () to review.