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06. Get to it already

Summary: As the title says…also, what exactly happened to Ororo after they brought her to the mansion.

“Oh God Ororo! No…”

**Its Ororo She’s been shot.**

“Storm….Ororo. The others are on their way. Hold on…stay with me…please.”

**Hurry up. I can hold for only so long.**

“Ms. Monroe…”

“Oh…there’s so much blood.”

“My stars…Ororo…”

“Is the blood ready?”

For Ororo Monroe, the weather-manipulating mutant known as Storm, her last few conscious moments were lost in a deep red pool of pain…the pain of having been shot, not once but four times. The only breaks came in the form of voices…or maybe it was just her hallucinations, of her teammates.

They sounded worried, that much she knew, but for whom, she did not know. Just as she did not know how close to dying she had come. Hadn’t it been for Jean’s telekinetic powers and her medical expertise, Ororo wouldn’t have even lasted the trip to the mansion…and she wouldn’t even need all of her four wounds for that. Just the hole in her liver would have done her in.

Yet, if the voices in her head were any indication, now, after almost seventeen hours after her last comprehensive thought, it would seem that not only was she alive, she was also in the safety of her home.

---

“She’s waking up.”

The first thing that Ororo noticed on coming into consciousness…well, other than the feeling that a truck had run her over or that she had been shot (which she had), was the people surrounding her. Once again, maybe it was just her blurred vision and the drugs coursing through her veins, but Ororo could have sworn that she felt a caress…along her mind, maybe even two, and although both were clearly different in their origin, both conveyed the same feelings of relief, joy and love…all of them for her.

It took her a few second, but once she got her eyes working properly and more importantly working together…in one direction, she noticed that there was more than one person at her beside. In fact, there were more than the two people who’s thoughts and feelings she had detected. There were a lot more. Had the whole mansion come to see her? Trying to count, she counted a total of fourteen, only to realize at the fifteenth that there were a quite a few twins, triplets and even quadruplets among her well-wishers.

In truth, there were six. Going in order, almost as if standing in formation, both doctors, Jean and Hank stood on either side of the bed, right about at her shoulders, both of them busy in fawning over her. Was she really hurt that bad? As for the others, sitting next to Jean was the Professor, with a clearly tense Gambit perched on the edge of the solitary chair next to the blue furred Beast, with Jubilee and Kitty in worried attention at the foot of the bed.

“Ororo? Child…” The Professor was the first to speak, the others literally hanging onto his words expectant for a confirmatory answer from the woman who was so much to so many of them.

“Y-Yes…” Ororo gave a slight nod and the barest of smiles, finally able to make out the faces of those around her. Jubilee’s was the first face she saw, and naturally enough the firecracker was the first among the non-telepathic group to speak out…albeit in an oddly (for her), soft tone.

“Hey Ororo,” she gave a little wave of her yellow-glove clad hand.

“’Morning Ms. Monroe,” Kitty interjected, her young face sporting a mixture of fear and relief. Even though both the doctor’s seemed content with Ororo’s condition and rather sure of her progress, this was the first time Kitty had seen one of her teachers…or for that matter, teammates, hurt so bad.

“H-He-…ugh…,” giving up on speaking just yet, Ororo feel backs to nodding, but even that was a chore. Someone seriously needed to lift that Volvo truck off her head. It was really becoming a drag now.

“Here sweety, this should help,” Jean’s slender hand came forward, a thin ice-chip held between her thumb and first two fingers.

“Stormy,” Gambit leaned into her field of vision, his usually bright happy face looking years older at the two-day-old stubble and eye-bags he was sporting. “You really scared Remy.”

“Don’t…” Raising her free ‘non-drip-feed’ hand Ororo caressed her closest ally and family member’s unshaved cheek. “…call…mm…e…Stormy.”

The chuckles that broke out at her oft-repeated comeback to Remy’s awful nickname for her broke through the remaining tension.


Feeling a little more limber Ororo flexed her neck muscles, stopping at seeing another prone form a short distance away.

“Hey Ms. Monroe,” lifting off his pillow the blond head of Warren Worthington smiled in greeting.

“Warr…en?” Ororo’s brow furrowed at him. What was he doing there? Even though he was one of the senior students, Warren was still at least a few months away from being on even the junior team.

“Wuh-…?” Turning her querying gaze to Jean she got her answer.

“Warren’s a healer,” okay that she knew. “His blood…” Jean hesitated, unsure if she should give out the details just yet and that too in front of the youngsters. “…you had lost quite a lot of blood.”

“Not to mention that thanks to the healing properties the recovery time should be very brief,” thankfully Hank took over from the faltering Jean. He knew that even though she was there….against his wishes, that Jean herself hadn’t recovered completely from her ordeal. As per the Professor’s strict orders, Jean was currently under a forty-eight hour psychic-curfew, meaning…no use of telepathy for that time duration…except for when under proper guidance. Given the level of her powers, that would mean only Xavier was powerful and experienced enough to provide that guidance…as he had done moments ago when Jean momentarily caressed Ororo’s waking mind.


The revelation about Warren donating blood brought home to Ororo the true extent and severity of her injuries. She knew that she had been shot, after all, who wouldn’t ‘know’ when a highly charged metal projective tore through you. What she did not know was just how many times and in which places the said projectiles hit her…but for Hank or Jean or even the Professor, for them to not only consider but to actually use ‘The Angel Option’…

Her mind closed against even thinking about it, at least not yet…later…maybe.


Parting her lips to inquire about the result of their mission, Ororo’s question turned into a frantic cry of her best-friend’s name as grabbing her head, the redheaded telepath stumbled and then fell to the floor.

THUDD!!

“JEAN!” More than one person reached toward her, Xavier nearly falling of his wheelchair as he made a futile grab at her, only to have himself nearly pulled down by her.

**JEAN…HELP!!**

The call, although sent out for Jean, had reached Xavier too as did a bone-chilling visual…that of three razor sharp claws about to slash at his face.

----

Elsewhere,

Returning from his mission with Remy and after a quick debriefing with the Professor, both Forge and Remy had headed for the infirmary only to find a Guard-Beast blocking their way. There would to be no disturbing the patient, not until Hank was on duty and although he did allow them to ‘see’ her, stepping inside her room was strictly off limits then.

Remy had parked his Cajun behind in the near empty infirmary, waiting for a time until Hank allowed visitors or until Jean relieved him…or at least until he could nag one of the two doctors into allowing him in, even of it were for a few minutes. As for Forge, as per the Professor request and Scott’s message, he headed over to the holding cell, and that was where he was when the Wolverine woke up.

Just a few minutes before all hell broke loose.

---

A short time ago,

“He’s crazy if he thinks he can break out of that,” Forge frowned as he peered at the large monitor in front of him.

On the screen, an extremely agitated Wolverine could be seen trying to shatter the glass by running from one corner of the room and ramming shoulder first into it.

“He IS crazy,” Scott’s frown was just as deep, and a lot more worried. “You should have seen what he did to those soldiers. He killed all of them…they didn’t even stand a chance.”

“What else did you expect with what the Professor told us about him?” Forge looked over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow at Scott fiddling with his visor. “Something wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Your visor,” Forge lifted a finger. “Something wrong with it? Want me to take a look?”

“No. No, nothing,” the way Scott’s hand shot down it as if he had been caught in the proverbial cookie jar. “Its just…” he trailed off turning back to the enraged Wolverine inside. “Its nothing.”

‘He shouldn’t be here.’ That thought seemed to have made a permanent home in Scott’s mind becoming even more louder when, instead of the estimated twelve hours, Wolverine had woken up in not even half that time. It was as if the glucose drip that Jean has attached to him had not only helped him recover faster but the nutrition feed had literally put his healing factor in over drive…kind of like the way a racing car accelerates at a NOx injection.

--

//Flashback//

“Its not possible,” a then alone Scott had blurted out to himself, his hands springing into action to check the sensors, while he stared at the monitor. Sure enough, the mutant lying in the center of the room was slowly clenching and unclenching his hands.
“This cannot be happening,” he whispered, his hand clutching his forehead in frustration. “Its JUST not possible.”

“What’s the matter?” it was at that exact moment that Forge had walked into the room and set his coffee mug down on the flat empty space next to the controls.
“He-He’s waking up,” Scott squeaked while pointing to the screen. “He’s waking UP!”
“Scott, you don’t have to repeat yourself,” Forge patted his back as if trying to get him to calm down. “So he is waking up. Isn’t that a good thing? It means he is recovering.”
“No. I mean yes,” blubbered Scott, trying to gather himself. “But now…this-this is just too soon. He shouldn’t be up for at least another eight hours.”

“Why?” Forge chuckled. “Did he place a wake up or something?”
“No,” Scott scowled at his friend. “You don’t understand. The reason he shouldn’t be waking up this soon…that he cannot be up, is because Jean sedated him…”

“So?”

“…With enough sedatives to render both you and me unconscious for a week…each – ten times over. And that was just four hours ago.”

//End Flashback//

--

“Try talking to him?” Forge spoke over his shoulder. “Maybe it will calm him down.”

Nodding at the suggestion, Scott pulled in a deep breath and spoke into the mike.

“Please be calm. You can’t break that glass. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

---

Inside the holding cell, Wolverine was rapidly losing control, his feral instincts starting to take over.

He had woken up to find himself in an unfamiliar surrounding. Initially he had thought he was in another lab and that everything had been a dream. For almost as long as he remembered, he had been one lab or the other, moved frequently so that the people there wouldn’t grow lax…and end up dead.

Until the last one. How long he had been there, he didn’t remember.

However, even in these new surroundings, it did not take him long to realize…to smell that there was something different about this place. It seemed too clean to be one of theirs – no blood, piss, shit or vomit anywhere. Moreover, as the last remnants of the sedative left his system, things started to become clearer…he started to remember.


‘RED!’ he growled. She had gotten into his head. ‘The Leather Freaks,’ his mind called out ‘Musta be their place’.

With that thought, he began looking around, for a way out from the cell – his attention immediately going to the seemingly thin sheet of glass. He needed to get out of here…he just had to for even though his mind wasn’t quite ready to believe it, his senses had caught it…caught the scent. Hers. The fuckers had gotten her too. She was here…and she was hurt.

He was going to kill each and everyone here and not fast as the other times. No. These fuckers, he would make them pay for hurting her, for making her bleed.


He was readying himself for another run, when a mechanical sounding voice filled the room. “Please be calm. You can’t break that glass. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.”

‘Grrr’ his fists clenched at his capturers. ‘Can’t break it, eh? Well then I’ll slice it.’ He didn’t want to get the claws out yet, not without knowing what kind of mutants did these people have here…but they left him no other choice.

“Once I get outta here, I’ll gut each and every one of ya,” he threatened his captors, raising a fist to accentuate his point.

Outside the cell Forge queried, “Gut? What does he mean gu…t?” The question stuck in his throat as three long metal claws sprang out of the raised hand and three more from the other one.

“That.” Scott answered wearily, a hint of nervousness seeping into his calm demeanor. “That’s what he meant by gutting us.”

“Claws!” Forge moved to the glass window on the side of the main control room. He had to see it for himself. ‘Yup, definitely claws,’ his mind processed through his surpise. “He has claws…metal claws!” he pointed out to Scott.

“I know,” sighed Scott, a resigned smirk on his lips. Forge was just as stunned as he had been the first time he had heard that sound and seen the blades shoot out from between Wolverine’s knuckles.

As they looked on, Wolverine calmly stepped to the glass, drew both his hands apart and after a moment’s silence, let out a loud roar, sinking them deep into the glass, right up to their whole one-foot length.

----

That was then, and this was now…now as in, Scott fighting for his consciousness, his throat in a seemingly iron-strong chokehold, his mind still groggy from the last blow.

As for Forge…

//Flashback//

“What are you doing?” Forge started up at seeing Scott head for the holding cell.

“I am going to talk to him,” Scott answered calmly, too calmly.

“What?!” Was he crazy? Talk to…to this man-animal? “Scott…”

“If we don’t calm him down, he is going to break out and then he is definitely going to kill us,” once again the mental image mutilated bodies flashed before Scott’s eyes, only this time instead of the soldiers at the base, it was the students and teachers living in the mansion. “And Forge…”

“Yes Scott?”

“Get out your gun,” now Forge was really worried. “And if anything happens to me, shoot him…and keep on shooting until he goes down…and then shoot some more. Just don’t let him get off this level.”

So stupefied was he that by the time Forge fumbled out his answer, Scott had already walked up to the holding and was already entering the codes to open the secret door, all while trying to get through to Wolverine.

“Look, we don’t want to…we are also mutants. Mutants who help others like us. It was us…we were the ones that broke you out of that lab. We don’t mean you any harm. So please calm down and….umph.” He didn’t even get to complete his sentence for even as the door slid open, and Forge’s cry sounded out to him, the Wolverine was already on him.

The sheer force of four hundred pounds of metal, blood and muscle hitting him not only hit caused Scott to fall of his feet, it sent him flying into the opposite wall

“SCOTT!!” Yelling for his teammate, Forge, having already drawn his gun, wasted no time or consideration in using it on the clawed Wolverine.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM…

Meant to both draw Wolverine’s attention away from a seemingly unconscious Scott and to take him, the energy bolts had about the same effect on the now completely healed and reinvigorated Wolverine as a piece of rebar hitting a rhinoceros’s hide. It only served to anger him more…as leaving the visored Scott, Wolverine turned towards Forge, and all of a sudden launched himself against the Cheyenne.

“Oh the spiri…AAARRGGHH!!” A barely visible swish of one clawed hand and cries Forge’s cries echoed through the room and hallway outside.

Even though he had cried out at the pain shooting through his body, it took the bionic limbed mutant a couple of seconds to realize what had happened to him, seconds in which, his gun fell from his hand hitting the hard metal with a dull thud…along with the metallic limb that had been gripping it.

Forge stared at his hand…his shiny, stainless, non-rusting, neurally linked, practically indestructible titanium hand, and the Wolverine had just chopped it off as if it was single sheet of paper.

“Where is…” Three razor sharp blades staring at him in the eyes, the bloodshot eyes boring into him, Forge nearly squealed as all of a sudden him attack fell onto him. Had he not moved, he surely would have lost at least one eye and probably the complete lower half of his face, instead of the minor sliver sliced away as he jerked to the side.

Having just woken up, Scott did not waste any time in trying to get up, instead he opened up his visor the strongest setting he could use in this enclosed a space.

At the same time slicing through his jumbled thoughts, he mentally ‘yelled’ out as hard as he could.

**JEAN…HELP!!**

//End Flashback//

How things went from there to now, with him being dragged by his neck to the elevator, even Scott did not know.

In fact, he was so out of it that despite Wolverine’s repeated questioning, he had been unable to give an answer to the only words to come of the other mutant’s lips.

“Where is she?”

---

Back in the infirmary,

“Claws?” Ororo’s eyes widened as recounting their mission from the previous evening, Jubilee mentioned the blades that came out of Wolverine’s hands.

Presently, apart from her and Jean, the only people in the room were Jubilee and Kitty. The others, namely, Jean, Gambit, Beast and Xavier had left to respond to Scott’s frantic cry. While the first three headed for the holding area, Xavier was just outside the door, concentrating to try to get a proper hold on Wolverine’s mind…only to come up against mental blocks, ones even impenetrable for someone like him.

‘How had Jean managed to get through them?’

“Yes Ms. Monroe,” Kitty nodded, sending a furtive glance at door. “Right from here,” fisting her hands, she pointed and touched a finger at the space between her knuckles. “They were like huge knives.”

“Yeah,” Jubilee nodded, feeling rather useless in the current situation. If only she had been older, better trained…in the senior team, then she would be out there helping the others, ‘than sitting here with my thumb up my ass.’

**Professor!** Ororo projected to Xavier.

**Yes Ororo?** It was clear that the telepath was straining himself. So far, he had only been able to get vague flashes, all of them showing nothing except the red of uncontainable and uncontrollable rage…all except two. In those two, he had seen a luminescent silhouette, clearly female in form.

**Are what Jubilee and Kitty saying true? Does…does W-Wolverine have claws?**

Xavier paused at the emotions welling up behind Ororo’s question. Even though he had been unable to get into Wolverine’s mind, Charles had been able to get through to Scott…and heard the question that Wolverine had asked of him. Though ignorant of who Wolverine was asking for, the telepath knew that the answer to that query was the only thing keeping Scott alive.

Still he was more than a little confused (and very thankful) that why had Wolverine taken Scott as a hostage instead of outright killing him?

As for the identity of the mystery woman that the feral mutant was asking for, at first Charles had thought that maybe it was Jean and that he wanted to get revenge on her for what she had done to him. However, now…now he wasn’t so sure.

**Yes,** he answered back. **It is true.**

The abrupt silence that followed and sensing the three X-Men closing in on a cautiously advancing Wolverine, Xavier pushed forward.

**Ororo…**

**I want to see him Professor,** such was the intensity of her thoughts that Ororo might as well have yelled them out aloud. **I-I…don’t hurt…don't let them...**

It took Xavier all but a second to understand what had caused Ororo to suddenly become so agitated, and how Wolverine was tied into it.

“Oh…Oh!” Even Xavier could not keep him mouth from falling open at what he saw.

This changed things, a lot.

---

Not five minutes later,

A quick rethinking session, a small psychic bomb, an impressive display of telekinesis, some equally impressive enhanced senses and not even five minutes later, not only Xavier but Jean, Gambit and a Scott carrying Henry burst through the infirmary doors, a berserker roar sounding seconds behind them.

“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod…” Hiding behind one corner, Jubilee chanted as per Xavier’s instructions both she and Kitty made themselves scarce from around Storm, but not before noticing how tightly wound up their usually calm teacher had become. That her eyes did not leave the door for even a second only added to their confusion and nervousness. “Ohgodohgodohgod…mmpf.” An equally fearful Kitty slapped her mouth shut.

“RRRAARRGGHH!!” The doors didn’t even get to open fully before Adamantium claws tore into them.

He knew she was close that she was here. The redheaded bitch, she had done it again, got into his head and although he did not lose consciousness this time around, it had still hurt like fuck. He was so going to enjoy killing her, as killing her lover boy….all of them. That even after bathing twice, Jean literally radiated the lingering smell of Ororo’s blood on her, at least for someone like Wolverine, only seemed to seal her fate even more.

She was here, just on the other side of the door. She was here.

He was going to-

“L-Logan?!”

She was…there.

Note: Well, they’ve finally met, but not before Wolve…ahem, Logan's already made some ‘friends’ among the mansion residents.

What next? Well, Xavier already knows…but the others don’t. Next they all come to know too, including Remy…and Forge too.

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