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08. On Strike

Summary: The title has nothing to with the chapter or even what it is about. What it has to do with is me or rather my muses who (it seems) are finally ending or thinking of ending the strike they were on.
“Oh Shit!”

It had lasted all for a second but as far as Scott Summers, Cyclops was concerned, had it not been the physically manifested bright light, he would have sworn that it was his life flashing before his eyes and that he was seeing the light leading to the afterlife. It was only a timely ‘telekinetic’ pull yanking him away from the path of the lightning that saved him from a shock that he would have felt for quite some time…and remember for the rest of his life.

Just as one bolt came towards him, many others shot all over the infirmary, one of which shorted out the electricity thus plunging the entire room into darkness, with only the ‘EXIT’ signs providing illumination, that is until the backup generators kicked in fifteen second later. For the X-Men, especially the younger ones who had been on the mission that had brought them Wolverine, those fifteen seconds were the longest time period of their life, for not only did they knew and had seen what the Wolverine could do, they also knew that just one blast alone wouldn’t keep him down for long.

Thankfully, for them, unlike the soldiers at the base, they had one thing going for them…Ororo.

Shocked at her savage and seemingly involuntary attack and that too on one of her teammates, one of her friends, it took Ororo all but a second to rein in her powers, all while nearly falling over the bed in a panicked grapple to the other side, to Logan.

“Logan.” Slouched over as if unconscious, Wolverine’s head shot up at the barely audible whisper, just in time to see Ororo hobble towards him. Only a second earlier, allowing his body to heal, he was planning an attack plan on that one-eyed fucker, his redheaded bitch and everyone else in the room, but one look at Ororo and all that rage faded into the background.

‘’Ro.’ This time around there was no question in his mind. It was she and as clear by her garb and physical condition, just like him, she too was a prisoner of these people. He had to save her. Before anything else, he had to get her to safety…

…and then he would kill them.

---

On the other side of the room,

Even as Xavier and Jean telepathically as well as physically contained and calmed Scott, Hank had his hands full in keeping Gambit from breaking free and going to Ororo, or as the Doctor suspected what it would seem to the other feral in the room, going after her. Unable to break free, but still not ready to give up, Remy called out, “Stormy,” only to have his cry fall on deaf ears.

Preparing to use force to break free from Hank’s hold, the increasing agitated Remy just about lost when Ororo stumbled, her legs giving way under her…only to be saved by Wolverine who leapt up and grabbed her midair, whisking her away into his corner. If that surprised him (and the others), what happened next just about floored them.

“Stormy!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening at the way Ororo reacted towards her captor. Instead of breaking away or better yet, using her powers on him, she not only threw her arms around him, she also started bawling her eyes out.

No one present in the room had ever seen Ororo behave like this. Not Jean, after one of the countless nightmares she had witnessed her friend and the closest thing she had to a sister go through. Not Xavier, who had come to think of her as a daughter. Not even Remy, the one person who knew her better and longer than any one else in the school. No one. True, she had wept before, both while conscious or while asleep, but never had it been like this. As the lone empath of the group that was something, Remy could tell much better than the others could.

“Oh Logan…” ‘Logan! That be Logan?’ Remy could not believe his ears, and had he not been here at this moment, he would not have. Even now, having seen and heard Ororo’s reaction, he still was leaning towards chalking it up to the effects from the drugs coursing through her body. ‘Or maybe,’ he paused, ‘Maybe, she hit her head when she fall, an’ is not t’inkin’ clearly.’ Yes. That was the case. She must be experiencing of some sort of amnesia. ‘Yeah. Dat sound better.’


As for Logan, his calm demeanor lasted long enough to get Ororo close to him and to check her condition. Her wellbeing confirmed, he let his senses expand, stiffening the smell of medicines and medical disinfectants assaulting his nostrils. A lab! The assholes put her in friggin’ lab.

“Logan…” Sensing him tense under her, Ororo lifted her head to face him, stilling at Xavier’s voice in her head.

**Ororo. I sense rage building up within Wolv…within Logan.** Though calm, there was more than a subtle undercurrent of tension in Charles’s projection. Tension and fear. For himself as well as for the wellbeing of his students, those within the room and outside.

**Charles? What? How?** Ororo’s surprise and confusion sounded clear in her reply. **You can see…**

**No, I cannot. Projections. He seems to have taken you to be in danger…a prisoner here. We need to…**

**I need to get him out of here. Away from all of this.** Ororo did not even let him complete the thought. She knew of Logan’s intense dislike for just about anything medical and realized how the underground infirmary with Henry’s lab within it might be affecting him.

**Ororo?** Charles stuttered to a stop. Letting out the Wolverine into the open? In the mansion? The school? That too without anyone to sto-…observe him? Because Ororo definitely was in no physical condition to…

All those questions and more, stopped and remained unanswered, all of them drowning under the growl rising from the other end of them room, a -snikt- of metal claws.

“Logan.” Still grasping the man and being held in the Adamantium hold of one arm, Ororo gasped, both in surprise and from the pain of her wounds, at finding herself being lifted along with Wolverine.

“Logan!” She tried again, louder. Moving one hand to his face, she pulled it towards her, having to apply force to do so. “STOP!”

Loud enough to echo in the corridors, her outburst had the desired affect, both on the ready to attack Wolverine and the equally prepared to retaliate X-Men.

“Stop.” Barely above a whisper, the second time around, her plea was only for one person.

“Grrr…” though still growling at their ‘captors’, Wolverine’s attention was completely on Ororo, his grip, already with his fingers digging into her flesh becoming even harder.

“D-Don’t,” Ororo shook her head, using her free hand to gesture over her shoulder. “Don’t. They are…” Good. Family. Friends. Colleagues. To be left alive. Not to be gutted. Cool. Groovy. “…helping.” Yes. “They help.”

“H-Hu-Hel-l-p?”

“Yes. Yes, they help.” Thankful that even in his current condition she was able to get through to him, Ororo grasped at the opportunity and gestured towards the door, the one that led they out of the infirmary and more importantly, away from the X-Men. “There. Go there. Out.” She urged him, leaning in her weight towards the direction she wanted him to take.

Hesitating long enough to consider Ororo’s claim about Cueball and the others, even that fuckin’ One-Eye and his meddling bitch, Wolverine came to a complete halt as his senses confirmed that she had indeed spoken the truth.

Once again, putting his faith in his senses and more so in Ororo, Logan stepped back and sided towards the broken down door, all while keeping his stare on trained the X-Men, his claws still out and ready to retaliate against any untoward move by any of them, especially One-Eye.

Seconds later the two were out the door and gone, but not before Wolverine let out a warning roar, one that sent spikes of hard cold fear down the younger X-Men’s spines, as also their seniors.

---

Having withdrawn to her attic suite, neither Ororo nor Wolverine lasted for much longer before they succumbed to sleep, staying that way for the better part of a day.

Logan, even though he had healed enough to go (if need be) against the X-Men, his healing factor was stressed from the constant and extensive healing, both from his injuries at the hands of the soldiers and Wraith and from the injuries gotten at the hands of Cyclops and Forge. Nevertheless, he was more than ready to make a break for it and escape from the X-Fuckers. The only reason he remained here was Ororo. Heck, he could have even carried her away with him. It was only her words and the way her presence was embedded in her room that finally caused him to stop and let his guard down…a little. Not only was her scent everywhere in the room, as also on just about every other place they had crossed on their way here, its depth also showed that she had been for quite some time, months if not years.

Still, even with these calming factors, it would be quite some time before he allowed himself to give in to the fatigue clawing at him, definitely not before he made sure of Ororo’s wellbeing…before she went to sleep.

As for Ororo, the adrenaline rush that had propelled her off her bed in the infirmary, into Logan’s arms and caused her to lash out against Scott, soon trailed off, leaving her feeling incredibly tired…as she should have bee. Thanks to the blood transfusion from Angel, her wounds were healing properly and quite rapidly. However, it would be at least a week or two before she returned to full power, before the last remaining trails of injuries healed and smoothened away. Until then she would be off duty. Thanks to the last thought that Xavier had projected to her as she and Logan left the infirmary, she already knew that part, as also that no one would be disturbing them.

Even food and clothing (for Logan) was taken care off, made clear by the loaded trolley left at the foot of the steps leading up to her suite.

It would be nearly twenty-four hours before the duo saw anyone from the mansion. Unfortunately, that second meeting came within inches to becoming a near exact remix of the first one.

---

Waking up lying on her side, the first thing or rather person that Ororo saw was a pair of pitch black eyes staring intently at her. Sitting on the floor next to her bed, Logan…Wolverine had been keeping a vigil on her, both for the man within him as also the animal. Even in her sleepy state, it did not take Ororo long to realize who she had waken up to.

“Logan.” She raised one hand to his face, smiling softly at the way Logan leaned into her caress, a growling purr rising from his chest. Years of separation and the reaction was still the same. Except for the wild overgrown hair and beard, it was as if nothing had changed.

“Rrrrr…” Logan climbed over the side. With one hand steadying him, the other reached forward to pull away the covers revealing Ororo naked except for the bandages body. As soon as they reached Ororo’s room, Logan had pulled off not only his but also her hospital gown, tossing the medical smelling tatters out one window. Seeing her bandages had elicited a snarl from him and for a second Ororo feared that he might take off after the X-Men, his looking over his shoulder and the -snikt- that announced the unsheathing of his claws only adding depth to that doubt.

She still wasn’t used to that -snikt-, just as she did not understand the metal, how it got there…on his bone claws.

“Logan.” A growl and nuzzling at her neck drew her back from her introspection, her hands automatically rising, one going to through his hair, the other grasping at his bare back.

“’Rrro…‘Ro.” Logan backed up, his eyes once again finding and holding hers. “’Rrorro,” he growled, his throat constricting at the scratchy feeling that came from forming comprehensible sounds, human sounds…human words.

“Yes.” Still on her back, Ororo jerked her head, nodding shakily as tears welled up within and escaped from her eyes. He was back. He was back and he remembered her. Her. He was back.

“’Rrruro.” Chanting the single word over and over again, Wolverine leaned in, drawing closer to breathe deeply at the valley of her breasts, reveling in her earthy scent. One deep breath and his senses, already buzzing, went into overdrive. Long buried memories pulled up and flung against the present, mixed to confirm and strengthen each other.

Earthy. Fresh rain. The slightest hint of ozone. All her…All Ororo.


Ororo knew what he was doing. He always did this, even in her dreams. He was refreshing his memories of her scent, updating them. He did this just as other people memorized faces and other physical features.

“Uhn…Logan,” she moaned as he turned sideways, rubbing his stubble against on one breast, its nipple rising up in response to his caresses. “Lo-Logan…” even though physically she was in no condition, Ororo moaned at the wetness pooling between her legs, her body rising up to arch against him. It had been so long, so many years since she felt another body against hers this way…since she felt him this way. So long and just one touch from him, it was as if no time had passed at all. It was as if they were back to where they used to be...how they used to be.

“Logan.” Her entire body was on fire, his mere touch converting years of ache into hot, raw desire. Threading her long fingers into his thick raven hair, she pulled him nearer trying to maximize the touching. There could be none other. No one. Only him. Only Logan.

“Lie with me.” She murmured, and even though he did not say anything in response, other than the growl of her name, Wolverine did seem to comprehend and follow her lead, understanding that she needed to heal. One last deep breath and caress at her midsection and he started to lie down beside her, drawing her up to fit alongside him…only to freeze mid move, his face draining of all its softness.


“GRRR…” Ororo’s eyes widened as Wolverine leapt off the bed, his metal claws extending, ready to attack.

“What happened?” She called from the bed, wincing as she pushed herself up into sitting up. She knew his stance well. He was sensing danger and from the direction he was facing, it was coming both from the balcony.

“Logan,” she tried again. Moving sideways, she let her legs dangle over the side of the bed and rose up gently. “Logan…what is it?” she whispered softly so as not to startle him, set him. “Who is it?” Her balcony was well above the ground to make it near unapproachable by just anyone. Whoever it was…

“Red eyes.” ‘Scott?! What is-’ “Trench coat.”

Remy.


“Oh.” Ororo seemed relieved and angry at the same time. She did not appreciate having her...their, her and Logan’s, privacy disturbed, not even by Remy.

“Let me,” she stepped forth. “I will take care of it.” Laying one hand over his forearm, she slowly weighed his hand down to his side. “Please put the claws away,” she urged, knowing well that he would not. Until he made sure that they were not in any danger, his claws would remain unsheathed. The deep growl she felt reverberating through their connection confirmed her thoughts.

“Very well,” she conceded, “then let me talk. Okay?”

A tight nod answered her this time around, even if eyes never left the open balcony door.


“Remy.” Ororo called out loudly. “Come out. I-We know you are there.”

Sure enough, there was a slight rustling and the auburn haired mutant dropped from the roof, immediately crouching in an attack position, his eyes flashing in anger as three glowing cards grasped between his fingers. Ororo. Stormy. His Stormy. His best friend and sister, naked, with the Wolverine. ‘De beastie must ‘ave forced himself on her.’

“Remy, what are you doing here?” Ororo asked, trying to move away and grab a bed sheet from the bed. However, Wolverine’s hand stopped any movement. He was on ‘All Alert’ and until the danger was over, he wasn’t going to let go of her.

Remy narrowed his eyes at the possessiveness of the Wolverine. No one did that to Ororo. She let no one. Not that anyone dared. “Remy came to check on ‘is Stormy. ‘e was worried.” He tone softened just a bit only to harden again at his next words. “An’ from what Remy see, ‘e was correct. Come ‘ere Stormy.”

‘Stormy?’ Logan’s interest piqued.

“Logan. You need to let go,” Ororo whispered at his ear. “My clothes. I need-” was all she got out before, his attention drawn to her unclothed state, Logan whirled back, grabbed a bed sheet and wrapped it around her. Stepping between her and the other man, he snarled, his lips curling to reveal his sharp canines.

Just when it looked when things would take a turn for the nasty, a knock sounded at the door.

--

“S-Storm. Ms. Monroe.” Kitty Pryde’s young voice sounded from the other side, the crack in it clearly indicating her nervousness. Even though the Professor had said otherwise, she was still wary of the Wolverine attacking her…even with Storm there.

Not a couple of minutes ago she was sitting down for breakfast, only to have the Professor send her here to check up on Ms. Monroe and invite her and Mr…uh, Wolverine to join them for breakfast. Why she had to hurry up was a mystery to her.

“Remy, put the cards away.” Wrapping the bed sheet around her, she inserted its end in the front. “Remy. NOW.”

Her tone was stern, commanding, succeeding in getting Gambit to lower his raised hand, the cards losing their fluorescent glow.

“Now. Open the door. Please.”

Note: Finally got out the ‘Stuck in Limbo’ update out for this too. Had been stuck with this one for almost a month. Hope that the next one won’t be as long in coming. As for the abrupt ending of this chapter, it is deliberate and no it’s not another one of those cliffhangers that I seem to use…well, almost always.

Next, Ororo and Logan. Yes. But Storm and Wolverine?





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