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The sun shined through the curtains filtering itself into the Ororo’s loft apartment. Her smile reached from ear to ear, as she reminisced the events of the last night. There was no way that had been a dream. It had been a week since the beach incident and both acted almost as if nothing had happened. There were reasons though, like Ororo taking back her classes, after much persuasion from her students, “Mr. Summers doesn’t have a clue of what he’s on about. Please come back?” Okay so it was more like begging, but to be honest she couldn’t have Scott take on her every lesson and his own, and neither could Jean. It made her feel bad, and not just because of that, Willow wouldn’t be able to go out with Ororo and Logan together as much. She would hardly see them anyway. They were both teachers, and their lessons collided with each others, Ororo could have been teaching when Logan had a free period. It was up until last night that she came up with the conclusion that life sucked. Logan, however, had quickly changed her mind.

He burst through her bedroom door, not caring what state she was in. she stood there eyes wide. It was he that came to her. He took hold of her and firmly pressed his lips with hers, parting her lips with his tongue, tasting her. “I want you so bad ‘Ro, I need you. I can’t wait any longer!” He had said into her mouth as they parted. She hadn’t complained.

His fingers found the straps on her nightgown, and moved the thin material slowly down her shoulder’s. It slipped off her body and hit the floor, she stepped away from the crumpled garment. His thumb ran across her nipple and it hardened beneath his touch. She moaned. Ororo’s own hands tugged greedily on Logan’s t-shirt, they pulled apart for a moment as he drew it up over his head, and one again he captured her lips with his. His trousers were next to be discarded on the floor, followed by his boxers. They stood there in Ororo’s room, the feel of skin on skin was too much. Logan was as hard as granite, she noted as she brought her legs up over his waist. He moved them over to the bed.

He entered her slowly, the feel of her around him was distracting. No words were said, nor did they need to be spoken. On her body’s own accord she arched into him, matching him thrust for thrust. They had a rhythm, but didn’t stick to it. Logan’s thrusts became harder and faster, as the animal took control, Ororo didn’t seem to care, as she too rode her beast, the storm within her raged to be set free. “Come with me Logan, please?” She said as her orgasm built up within her. Her walls clamped down around him as he throbbed inside her. They came together, as one.

“There are no words that describe us, are there Logan?” She asked, her orgasm subsiding. They lay there still joined, not wanting to part.

“Yeah, there’s one,” He said as his breathing slowly started to synchronize. “Perfection.” He stated, looking at her directly in the eyes, “Perfection.” He repeated in a light whisper against her lips, as their dance started all over again.

She lay there in bed, an empty space beside her, she hadn’t cared that he’d left her, she’d see him soon anyway, downstairs, with Will, her darling Will. She removed herself from the tangled sheets, rapping her robe around her body. Her smile left her, as her mind puzzled over the red satin on the carpet. She knelt down besides it, taking her finger into the liquid. She brought her hand up and rubbed her middle finger with her thumb. Blood. There were a few more blotches that lea into the bathroom. She followed it. On the door there was a smeared hand print, an identical one was painted on the wall. Her hand went to her mouth, pools of the stuff surrounded her feet, a lithe form crouched by the toilet breathing hard. Everything went silent as the figures face turned up to hers. Male. Dark skin, but light like hers, his hair was Short but fell over the side of his head in white waves, highlighted with brown, matted. His body was badly cut, and bleeding heavily. She ran to his side.


In the rec. room a crowd had formed, Jean frowned as she pushed her way through, wanting to know what the commotion was about. Her hand went up to her chest, the sight before her was unreal. Logan was sat on the couch with an arm around Will, a book in hand. He was reading o her, and every other chapter or so, she read to him. The child had brought something out of him, and Ororo, all of them. She couldn’t help the small feeling of jealous that crept into her heart. Scott and her had been trying for so long for a family, and these two, they had something fall from the sky, and immediately placed them as mom and dad. She disappeared back into the crowd, and into the kitchen were a group of the students sat talking quietly amongst themselves.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. it’s just a kid, Logan doesn’t treat none of us like that.” Bobby said, frowning at the attention the teachers and student’s gave the ‘little angel’.

“What, you want Logan to read you bed time stories, aren’t you a little old?” Kitty said. They all laughed at him. He balled his fist and smack it hard on the table. They all went still.

“That’s not what I meant!” He barked, “He treats us like crap, he hates kids, why treat her any differently?” The group just stared at him. No one seemed to have an answer, or one that would stop Bobby’s complaining.

“Wills just a kid Bobby, she needs attention too. Besides were Logan’s students he’s meant to treat us that way so he doesn’t get so attached to us.” Rogue said, looking at him, he shrugged.

“Yeah Bobby, that way it doesn’t get personal.” Kitty chimed in.

“Then how come he’s ‘attached’ to you?” He asked Rogue. “He’s not just attached to It, he’s fathering It!”

“It, she’s not an It, how would you like it Bobby if you never had parents, and people saw you as an It. She’s like us Bobby, just because she’s getting more attention than you doesn’t mean you can go around and judge people!” Rogue shouted standing up from her chair, she glared at him. Bobby shrugged, before he had time to answer he was interrupted, Ororo’s voice entered the kitchen, startling everybody.

“Somebody help me!” She screamed, her attire covered in blood. She had gotten ride of the robe, and was now wearing sweats and a loose fitting t-shirt. Her face looked pale. Everybody turned to her and gasped. Logan pushed through the crowds and went to her.

“‘Ro?” He asked taking hold of her.

“He’s hurt Logan, There’s blood everywhere. I couldn’t do anything, we need to help him.” She cried. Logan nodded and rested her head in his chest, rocking her gently. Jean came up to them, Scott could be heard ushering them into the rec. room and kitchen, telling them to remain calm.

“Who’s hurt?” Jean asked calmly, placing a warm hand on Ororo’s shoulder.

“A boy, he’s in my room.” Jean nodded, and swiftly moved from the couple, starting her journey to Ororo’s bedroom. Logan and Ororo soon followed, as did Will, but no one knew she had gone.

Jean opened the loft door, and moved her head around the frame, checking that everything was safe. Like Ororo had said there was blood, and lots of it. The boy had moved, his frame sat huddled into a ball at the end of Ororo’s bed. Jean crouched next to him and took a physical, taking mental note as she worked.

“Oh no!” She gasped as she pulled out a wing, like a et would do with a small injured bird, “Another one.” She shook her head trying to grasp the contrast between Will and himself. There could be more, just like this one, she thought as she carried on with her work.

No obvious concussion, yet slight defect to pupil constriction to light-loss of sight.
Torn cartilage to left wing.
Disrupt shoulder tissue, healing slowly-healing factor?
Light skin, not showing recent scars-similarities to Ororo? Parents alive/dead? Age?
Broken ribs, maybe fractured.
Slight scar to the forehead, but slowly healing-back to healing factor.

The boy flashed images into her mind as she made her assessment, unconsciously of course. A familiar face, no two faces, flashed into her mind, two faces in which she had seen before. Her gaze travelled to Ororo. Oh my god… she thought, her mind jumping in so many directions. It cannot be.

The questioned burnt itself into Jean’s mind, turning her head up toward Ororo and asked, “When did your parents die?” Confused Ororo threaded a hand through her hair. It was one of those questions Jean should know the answer to.

“Ur…When I was five, twenty-two years ago, Jean you should know that!”

“No, the exact date?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember.” Tears jet streamed down her face as she relived the day she last saw her parents, how she was trapped under rubble waiting to be rescued only to wake and find her parents lifeless bodies gone.

“Think Ororo.” ‘What does this have to do with anything Jeannie?” Logan asked mentally, Jean didn’t answer.

“January the 27th 1984.” She said, and like Logan slightly confused at what this had to do with anything.

Will manoeuvred around Logan entering the room, Logan looked down at her and picked her up, the child’s eyes were wide and focused on the boy, Logan spoke, “Matthew?” The boy looked up and caught Logan’s stare, he nodded and gave a weak smile.

The boy, Matthew, his voice was like honey, “I promised I’d find you, I never break a promise.”





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