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Weeks had past, and the child had not woken. For every waking second that made up a day Ororo had waited. She had refused to attend classes, but her pupils came down every so often to see her, and ask her questions on their homework, and she was glad to help, as long as she did not need to move. Charles had been the first to worry about her.

“I have never seen Ororo so withdrawn, not like this anyhow. If we do not act upon it now, and the child does not wake, I’m afraid she will isolate herself from the rest of us. She has always been so upbeat and cheerful; I do not want her to regress.”

And so they had acted upon it. Logan had persuaded her to take walks around the grounds, every so often and she had obliged, as long as she could carry a pager with her at all times, so that she could be contacted a.s.a.p if the child’s state was to change. She had even given the child a name, not liking how people had addressed the kid as, “It”, “She”, “Her”, “Young girl”, and “The child”, she had called her Willow or Will for short. No one had asked her why, and she did not explain her actions. Willow. The child reminded her of the Willow Tree Fairy from the collection of Cicely Mary Barker books her mother used to have, ones she’s sneak a look at when she was supposed to be sleeping. The Willow had always been her favourite tree fairy.

‘By the peaceful stream or shady pool,
I dip my leaves in the water cool.
Over the water I lean al day,
Where the sticklebacks and minnows play.
I dance, I dance, when the breezes blow.
And dip my toes in the stream below.’


She slept in her own room, but went up late into the evening, and woke early the next morning. Jean or Hank would bring down her meals, as every so often they needed to check Will’s progression, if there was any. No one knew how she had become so attached to the girl so quickly, when she tired to explain it, it just confused herself and others. So they just took it as it was. She wanted something to love, or to give her love to, it was as easy as that.

Most often than not, Logan had found her engaging in conversations with Will, even if she received no answer. And during those times he found himself watching her, like right now for instance. She was in the middle of telling the kid about life with the X-Men, about her many friends here, and to his surprise, she even mentioned how she was seen as part of the background, and even more shocking how she liked being a wall for people to lean on, because at least that way she was doing something, and not going around looking pretty all the time, and causing trouble. He chuckled mentally.

“I know your there Logan.” She said over her shoulder, I always know. She turned to him, “What are you doing here?” She asked, he sniffed his fingers, yep he needed to smoke. How did she know that? Her dad used to smoke, but he had to quit when Ororo was born, he’d have the occasional, yeah, but when he had a craving he’d smell the tobacco from his fingers, it was the same with cigars. And she found Logan doing it most of the time, minutes before lighting one up. “And no smoking!” She quickly added.

“How’d ya know I-never mind. Jus’ came to check up on ya.” He shrugged, digging his hands deep into his pockets. She sighed.

“I am not the one being taken care off!” She stated as a matter of fact. She sighed again, turning her attention back to Willow.

“We’re all worried about ya, darlin’ no ones seeing much off ya, most of all me.” She lowered her head, and muttered what sounded like an apology. It was true though, he did miss her. Time drifted slowly without her in the same room as him, not that he was attracted to her or anything, yeah she was nice to look at but he didn’t feel anything towards her. But the student thought and knew otherwise. By the looks he gave her, what he truly felt was un-miss-able, except ‘Roro never picked up on it, ever.

“Logan I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I’m a grown woman, I pretty sure I can take care of myself.” He shock his head, getting her to get a grip was not happening, besides she didn’t have any shoes on. He smiled at his own lame joke. Weirdo! He thought silently. He came over to her, and rested his head on her shoulders, inhaling her scent deeply. She leaned into him subconsciously. She needed the contact; he was what kept her sane.

Ororo closed her eyes, letting time slip by them, uncontrollably. She was tired, she had to admit, but ever since she had looked into the poor girl’s eyes, she found herself emotionally attached, just like that. She also had to admit that she was lucky she had a friend like Logan, at first he did seem uncaring, but when she got past that shell, she saw the goodness in his heart. He was in many ways just like her; they both put on an act in order to protect the ones they loved. Around each other, though, they let some of that pretence slip, knowing that if too much control was lost, they were, in each others company, able to take back that control. With her, she just had to her his voice, his touch; sometimes she’d inhale that masculine smell that was all Logan.

She moaned as he massaged her shoulders, releasing all the knots and kinks, that had formed during the past goddess knows how many days. She spoke, “Why didn’t you become a masseuse?” He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to, it was a rhetorical question, one she’d asked him countless times, the first time she’d asked it he screwed up, and she’d laughed at him for countless minutes. He stopped, she turned her face to his, “Logan?” She asked. A small noise was emitted from behind her, her eyes suddenly opened wide. She turned back to the girl, and suddenly nothing else in the world mattered.

“I know it sounds strange darlin’ but she has yer eyes.” He smiled, the child blink a few times, trying to get her bearings, she winced at the pain in her wings. Her eyes were wide, and unlike any human eyes. She looked at Ororo and then to Logan, and back to Ororo again. Why is that lady crying?-mom? she asked herself. She ached all over. “Easy there kid, ya had a nasty fall.” She nodded, as the images came flooding back. She was free, and she was here.

“Logan, get Jean and Hank, I’m sure they’d like know she’s awake, and do hurry about it.” Ororo insisted, knowing he’d already complied, as she now felt no presence behind her. Turning her attention back to the girl she asked, “Are you hungry, thirsty?” A small hand reached over, wiping away the tears. Ororo smiled, showing off her teeth. The girl smiled back.

“I’m a little thirsty.” She said in a relatively quiet voice. She turned her head away, focusing her gaze on her hands. Through the corner of her eye, she watched Ororo pour water from the pitcher and into a plastic cup. Ororo extended her hand, waiting for the girl to take it from her. She took it rather quickly, slightly startling Ororo, drinking it without much of a second thought.

“My name is Ororo Munroe,” She gave the girl a light smile, “May I ask you for your name, if you have one of course?” The girl paused for a moment, closing her eyes in concentration. She swallowed hard, remembering her old home, or what she was told was home. Small cages zipped through her mind followed by darkness, images weren’t made clear as through most of her time being cooped up she had been drugged, needles came out of nowhere, with men in white coats, no masks to hide their faces, voices, in the background she heard other muffled sounds. Dark corridors, one leading into the next, one of their cruel tests, a maze, a sensitive floor that sent electricity through your body if you slowed down. Many times of trying to escape, no flying, that had been the rule, a tight dark room, with steel doors, her wings hanging lifelessly to the side. In that room she had not been alone, Matthew, the only one of their pitiful creations to have a name, he was after all the son of the Man. They dragged her along like a rag doll countless times. Her eyes snapped opened, they hadn’t stopped hurting her even when she screamed.

“Subject: two-seven-zero-zero-F-X” She said mindlessly. She cried. Ororo put an arm around her, holding her close, hoping in the depths of her mind that she would never have to let go.

“Ssssh, it’s okay, your safe now, just let it out.” Ororo soothed “I’ll take care of you.” The girl’s sobs came harder, as Ororo held her tighter. Footsteps came from not far away. Logan entered the room. Taking one look at the scene, he turned around and hushed the two very enthusiastic doctors. Peering over his shoulders they nodded in unison. “Since you don’t have a name, how about I tell you what I named you while you were sleeping, you can tell me if you like it or not?” The bird child lifted her wet face from Ororo’s now wet shoulder.

She nodded, “I’d like that.” Ororo smiled softly.

“It may sound strange but,” Ororo started to say “I gave you the name Willow, Will for short.”

The little girl smiled, she liked that name, especially since it sounded so nice coming from the woman next to her. It was better than being an experiment, than being a subject, now with that name she was a person, she existed. When her she repeated it in her mind she found herself thinking of elf warriors, and the howling wind, nestling itself between the leaves of tall trees, making them chatter. “Willow.” She said softly, it sounded good coming from her lips.

“Ororo?” Looking over her shoulder the girl saw two new people. White coats. Her eyes widened, she started to squirm under Ororo’s embrace.

“Will, calm down, its okay, we wont hurt, please believe me.” The tears built up again, and threatened to fall. Will stopped moving and looked up at her. “We are here to help you.” Even though she stopped squirming, she still remained tense. “This is Jean,” She said pointing at the redhead and then pointing to Hank, “And Hank and you already know Logan, kind of anyway. They just want to make sure you are well, okay?” The girl nodded but kept her gaze on Ororo’s face. “I will stay with you, through the examination.” She smiled, gaining a smile in return.

After all they had all the time in the world, didn’t they?





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