Chapter Eleven: Foolish Pride
Turn out the lights, the competition's over
The stubborn souls are the losers here tonight
And while the bridges burn
Another hard, hard lesson's learned
As in the ashes, passion slowly dies
And this romance goes down to foolish pride
~Travis Tritt
Xavier’s Institute for Higher Learning
The Danger Room
Metallic scraping resonated through the room, giving way the presence of a lone man fighting unseen demons. Covered in sweat, snarling and spitting his turmoil, Wolverine leapt from the top of a demolished holographic building. His roar was lost in the computer-generated explosions as he fell on the gray-cloaked military figures that suddenly became prey.
How long he had been at this was a mystery. Just after the meeting in the War Room, when everyone broke into their separate groups, he’d attempted to sleep. After the third rude awakening, reaching for a warm body that wasn’t there, he had given up. He contemplated visiting Jean and Cyclops’ graves, but thought better of it.
After all this time, he didn’t have anything else to say to Jean. She’d made her choice, though the Phoenix wanted Wolverine, his Jean had always wanted Scott. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with the simple truth, but there was no escaping it. He didn’t need her cold, silent coffin telling him what he already knew.
Liar. Murderer. Betrayer. Animal.
The nightmare of Jean had been right all along. He’d lied to Storm, betrayed her, murdered her friend. He was an animal.
So, he decided to act like one. Thoughts of her snowy hair and smoky laugh only brought his feral inner beast raging to the surface. He embraced it, running a suicidal program in the Danger Room for hours upon hours. He hoped that he could exhaust himself. Perhaps if his mind and body were close to collapse, he could sleep without reaching for something he knew wouldn’t be there.
Flashes of adamantium ended the lives of scentless, soulless men flooding the destroyed Danger Room. He knew nothing but pain, his constant companion. Here she wasn’t haunting him. Logan would drive her from his mind if he had to slice his brain out. He wasn’t going down like this. Not because of some uppity weather goddess.
Crimson flowed freely down his torn arms and scratched chest. Reveling in the fresh scent of blood, he met the new wave of fake warriors with their automatic weaponry. With a toothy grin, he sliced and diced each of them in turn. It wasn’t enough. He needed it harder, faster, until he wore his rapid-healing body out.
“Wolverine?”
He turned sharply at the call of his name. In his almost feral state, it wasn’t smart for someone to come waltzing into the Danger Room. But Kitty’s fresh floral scent retracted his claws out of pure instinct.
“What?” Wolverine snarled, spotting her through the holographic ruins.
She was dressed for bed, complete with her Snoopy slippers and sloppy brown ponytail. She jogged over to him, out of breath and red faced from what was probably a run across the entire mansion. In her tiny hand, she clutched a cordless receiver.
“It’s for you.”
The sharp, unwelcome hope that he would hear Storm’s voice made him scowl. He snatched the receiver from Shadowcat, covering the mouthpiece with his hand.
“Go on, kid,” he jerked his head toward the door. “Scram.”
Kitty turned and exited as though the demons of hell were right on her ass. She knew better than to mess with a rabid Wolverine. He watched her pause at the doorway and give him a small, encouraging smile. Unable to resist her innocent expression, he returned the gesture with a gentle shooing motion of his hand and strained smile.
Obviously feeling better about leaving him with the phone, she let the doors slide closed behind her.
Alone again, Logan stared down at the telephone in his hand. His sensitive hearing picked up the heavy breathing of whomever was on the other end of the line. If it was Ororo, why was she calling? Had something happened?
Did she want him to come back?
Unsure how he felt about that last, irritatingly hopeful thought, he uncovered the mouthpiece and brought the receiver to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Wolverine.”
Oh, God. It was her. His eyes closed without his permission, his ears ringing at the sound of her voice. All of his hard work, his concentration on getting her out of his damn mind, fled faster than Kitty’s retreat.
“Wolverine?”
“What?” He snapped at her second call. He didn’t want to want to hear her. It would be too hard when she hung up. By the use of his codename, he knew she wasn’t calling to ask him to come home.
Logan had to remind himself that he was home. New York was home, damn it.
Storm sighed on the other end of the phone line. “I have some information regarding Elizabeth’s kidnapping.”
Instantly interested for reasons that were not so personal now, he called out the end program code to shut the Danger Room down. “Ya do? Where are ya?”
“The coastal city of Nome, on the Western edge of Alaska,” she replied primly. He could almost hear her icy exterior clicking into place. “The doctor you interrogated before my recovery, he was here.”
“What?” Logan snarled, leaving the Danger Room. “How’d ya find him?”
“I was repairing my plane,” she replied flatly. “I heard his voice and a…something happened to me. Snatches of disjointed memory came over me.”
He knew exactly what she was talking about. Sympathy wormed its way into his heart, though he tried to fight it back. Nothing was more terrifying than coming face to face with a jumble of memory you couldn’t really recall.
“Where’s this doc at? Did ya catch him?”
There was a silent pause, broken by the sound of crumpling paper. “I pursued with the owner of this hangar, but the engine caught him first. He’s dead.”
Logan stopped in the hall. “Huh?”
“He ran onto the runway,” Storm explained wearily. “An incoming jet…”
“Oh,” he cut her off, taking the stairs two at a time. “What’d ya find out? Did ya talk ta him at all?”
“Unfortunately no,” Ororo replied. He could hear her footsteps on what sounded like concrete through the phone. “I overheard him talking about a performer, I am going to rendezvous with the intended target in an hour.”
“Ya overhear a lot, doncha?”
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Bringing the phone from his ear, he slammed it against his forehead in anger. Of all the stupid things he could think to say, that probably took the cake.
“Well,” her voice had turned flat out unfriendly. “Perhaps if a misplaced heroism complex did not color certain individual’s thought processes, I would not have to.”
Wolverine heard her footsteps halt as soon as his did. He stood outside of Hank’s bedroom, knowing he would have to wake his friend. The sound of an airplane taking off in the background was drowned out by Ororo’s heavy breathing.
“Judging by the invoice Luke gave me, he was planning to leave Nome in the morning, but he was going to Fort Yukon, not Anchorage.”
Back to business, he thought with a sardonic smile. He pounded on Hank’s door, then jogged to Peter’s bedroom to repeat the process.
“What’s so weird about that?”
“Well, Fort Yukon is close to the Canadian border. Luke called a friend at the airport there. A man using the same alias had a connecting flight booked for Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory.”
“I know the area,” Wolverine confirmed. “Lots of backwoods and caves.”
“I think that may be the source of these medical robberies,” Storm replied. “This man flew to that area seven times in the last two months.”
As Hank and Peter appeared in the hall, Logan held a hand up. Jabbing a finger at the phone he mouthed “Storm”. Both men were awake almost instantly.
“Ya know where the next target is?”
“Yes, I am leaving the airport now to meet her. She trusts the X-men name.” A pause. “Apologize to Professor Xavier, I know he hates it when former members of the team use it as a trump card, but I have little time.”
He bashed the phone into his forehead again. Storm knew how to go for the jugular.
“Listen, Storm,” Logan said trying to keep his voice from growling. “Betsy’s the first telepath they’ve taken, that we know of. For some reason, they’ve avoided them.”
“That would make sense,” her voice switched to thoughtful. “My mind was awake during some of the procedures. Had Jean or Charles been searching for me, they could have easily picked up my call.”
Ouch, he thought with a pang centered somewhere in his gut.
“Chuck’s got a faint read on Betsy, but it wasn’t enough to locate her. If yer right, he might be able to get a better lock with Cerebro, now that he’s got somewhere ta look.”
“Good,” she was curt. A car door slammed. “I have to go. This is a landline and my cab is here. I will call you on the cellular once I have the package.”
“Storm? Wait,” Logan called, panic swelling in his chest. “Where are ya goin’ after ya leave Nome?”
The line clicked and went dead. “Storm? Goddamn stubborn fuckin’ woman!”
He didn’t even try to resist the violence ripping through him. On an enraged howl, he threw the phone with all of his might. Had Peter flinched, he would have wound up with one hell of a headache. Luckily, the young man covered his flesh with metal just in time to reflect the flying telephone.
“I take it our beloved weather witch has vexed you?” Hank said smoothly, scratching at his furred face.
“Shut up, Hank,” Logan snarled. “Go get the Blackbird ready. Pete, get me Iceman, Shadowcat, and Captain Britain. We’ll brief Wheels before we go.”
“Has Storm uncovered something?”
“Yeah, and she’ll probably get her ass kicked, so we’d better hurry the fuck up.”
~**~
“I just can’t get you outta my head. Boy, your lovin’ is all I think about. I just can’t get you outta my head. It’s more than I dare to think about.”
Ororo watched the pretty blonde on stage from the wings. She could see the dancers twisting behind the bright lights emitted by the young vocalist. Dazzler, as she was called, had trusted Ororo on sight. They spoke briefly, the girl outlining her powers.
The beat was lively, filled with an electronic thump that she could feel in her stomach. She bobbed her head, falling into the beat a little as she watched Dazzler perform.
She’d been horrified when Storm revealed the twisted plot she found herself in now. Ororo tried to soften the blow, but her personal sorrow must have reflected on her face. Alison gave her an unexpected hug, then vowed to help the famous X-Men in any way she could.
After the cover of Kylie Mingoue’s “Cant Get You Out Of My Head” was finished, the tall woman bowed before uproarious applause. Even Ororo grinned and clapped along with the drooling crowd. The girl was a marvelous talent.
She bounced off of the stage toward Ororo. “What did you think?”
“Wonderful,” Ororo said earnestly. “Your cover was better than the original.”
“Oh, shush,” Alison laughed, taking a towel from a nearby attendant to wipe at her face.
“I am being honest,” Storm countered, watching everything around them carefully.
Though Betsy had been abducted in her busy home, the two mutant women had agreed to wait out the pseudo-military in her private apartment, kept in Nome for no other reason than because she could.
Hopefully, they could contain one of the men for questioning.
“I should be ready to take off in a minute. We can grab some food and go wait for the big baddies at my place. Sound good?”
Nodding mutely, Storm trailed after the girl. She checked the cellular phone in her pocket quickly, not surprised to see she had missed 37 calls. Logan was trying to reach her. She kept the phone off, sliding it back into her pocket. The last thing she needed was him showing up at the wrong moment.
This was her fight.
Alison and Ororo left the dance club at just after one in the morning. Arms filled with Thai take out, they trooped into the sparsely furnished apartment in the southern edge of town. They sat cross-legged on the floor, eating with chopsticks and talking about the X-Men. Alison seemed very interested in the mutant-fighting group.
Ororo regaled her with tales of their past adventures. The younger woman laughed hysterically, making Storm’s wounded heart lighter than it had felt in days. They cracked open a bottle of wine, lounging in the girl’s apartment and talking into the wee hours of the morning.
Alert for danger, both women heard the numerous footsteps in the hall. Ororo jumped up quietly, putting a finger over her lips to quiet Dazzler. They split up, moving to opposite corners of the room.
Storm heard her new friend flip on a CD player concealed somewhere in her form-fitting jeans. Sound activated her mutation, which was about to be pushed to the limit. Drawing on her X-Men training, Ororo flattened her body against the wall, sliding down and letting her mutation change her eyes to glowing white.
Alison giggled soundlessly. When Ororo looked at her, she pointed to her eyes and mouthed “Wicked!”
The door slammed open, revealing a dozen men in gray camouflage. Their weapons were raised as they searched the dimly lit room for signs of their targets. Carefully concealed, neither woman moved until every last attacker was inside.
Storm leapt from her hiding place, kicking the weapon out of one man’s hand. She gripped his gas mask, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Remember me?”
A flash of blinding light made several men cry out in pain. Ororo raised her hands, summoning the winds to force them all back. The one in her grip whimpered when she grabbed his uniform, bringing his chest sharply against her knee.
He collapsed as the apartment door slammed shut, trapping the assailants with two very angry women.
Storm found herself in the thick of the battle. She crouched low, a smooth, daring smile crossing her face. In an eerie imitation of Wolverine, Ororo beckoned the already frightened men to her with one hand.
“Come and get me, boys.”
They rushed her at once. Dazzler’s brilliant lights flooded the room again, the force of her mutation throwing several attackers back into the wall. They slumped helplessly into the floor. Storm, trusting the girl’s survival instincts, met her foes hand to hand.
Her gifts would not heal her wounded heart. Every punch, kick, and feral scream patched more of her bleeding wounds. She broke one arm, tossing the tranquilizing gun out of his hand. He backhanded her sharply.
Snarling, Ororo brought her knee roughly between his legs. As he kneeled in pain, she put her knee to his face, effectively knocking him unconscious. A glance over her shoulder showed Alison easily handling two of her own while a force field protected her from the darts.
Confident her charge was fine, Storm moved from target to target. Each met her fury, falling to the floor when she was through. Inside of ten minutes, Dazzler and Storm had dropped all twelve men into groaning heaps.
“Woo!” Dazzler cried when the “dust” settled. “That was damn fun.”
“Invigorating, yes,” Storm replied, gripping her swelling hand. She must have broken a knuckle sometime during the fight.
“You ok?” Alison said as she bounced over, still glowing with her ethereal light.
“Yes,” the elder mutant nodded. “Call the police while I bind them.”
“Sure thing, girlie.”
When the young singer rushed into the bedroom, Ororo removed several police issue zip ties from the backpack she’d tossed onto the sofa. Luke’s brother worked for the State Police and blessedly had asked no questions at her odd request.
She bound each man’s hands and feet, piling them neatly in the center of the living room. One of them seemed to regain consciousness, so she marched over to him. Hooking her hands in the thick cloth of his utility vest, Storm pulled him up to face her.
“Do you know who I am?” Ororo demanded.
The man gulped. “Mutant number 3480131 Munroe, Ororo. Type: Elite.”
“Very good,” she growled quietly. “Where is Elizabeth Braddock?”
He clamped his mouth closed. Ororo brought her fist back and punched him as hard as she could. Blood spilled from his nose and he howled in pain.
“Where is she?”
“W-Whitehorse,” he coughed. “All I know. They take the girls off our hands at Whitehorse.”
“Why?” She shook him hard as Alison’s voice came into the room. “Why are they doing this?”
“I don’t know,” the man said on a whimper. “I just lead the team that gets the girls. I’m just following orders.”
“Not anymore.” A cold, youthful voice said vehemently.
Ororo looked up in time to see Dazzler bring her heeled foot down on the man’s already bleeding face. He fell over from the force of the blow, landing on his back with his eyes closed. For a moment, Storm feared that the girl had killed him.
“Putz,” Alison sighed. “Hey, the cops are on their way.”
“Good,” Storm replied, reaching for her cellular phone. “At least the Alaskan Police can claim they captured the kidnappers.”
“Aww, someone else taking credit for our bust? How’s that fair?” The young blonde pouted, making Storm involuntarily laugh.
“It isn’t,” she shrugged. “But this way we can continue working without pressure.”
A sharp exhale of breath blew her light bangs from her face. “Ok, so what’s next?”
Storm grinned. “Ever been to Henry?”
~**~
“Storm?”
Logan shoved the front door of Ororo’s cottage open, greeted almost instantly by two yelping Huskies.
“Hey guys, whatcha doin’?” He paused to scratch their ears and muzzles.
“Pete, ya mind takin’ these two out?”
The tall Russian bowed his head slightly, not bothering to take his coat off as he stepped back into the chilly Alaskan night. Kitty, Brian, Bobby, and Hank all slipped into the silent house behind Wolverine, bags in hand.
He told them to drop their luggage by the door, then stomped through the rest of Ororo’s home. There were no signs as to the woman’s presence, but a half-eaten bagel told him Mary had been there recently.
“Damn it,” he growled, running a hand through his hair.
A glance toward the door showed all four X-Men still standing nervously in the foyer. He sighed, sweeping an arm toward the house grandly.
“Come in,” he snapped moodily. “We ain’t leavin’ til we find Storm.”
“Won’t she mind?” Kitty questioned as she unzipped her fur-lined parka.
“Not if she knows what’s good fer her,” Logan said gruffly, heading into the bedroom.
Damn if it didn’t smell like her. Inside her room, he shrugged out of his coat, pausing to inhale deeply. She obviously hadn’t tried to clean his scent away, for there were still traces of it all over the room. He spotted something familiar on the bed and moved to it, startled to find his gray flannel shirt tossed carelessly on the made duvet.
Pain twisted in his chest again. He wanted to see her, to hold her, smell her. His body ached to have her in his arms, under him, over him.
“Damn it.”
He heard Peter come back into the house, the dogs hot on his heels. Leaving the bedroom, his shirt and coat lying haphazardly on the bed, he called the dogs to him. Neither was snarling at the assembled X-Men. They merely watched with curiously tilted heads.
“Make yerselves comfortable,” Logan offered. “Hank, computer’s in the bedroom.”
“Oh, fantastic.” Hank said, jumping up from the sofa. “I will get to work immediately. Kitty?”
Beast and Shadowcat ducked into Ororo’s bedroom while Logan rummaged around in the kitchen. Finding a case of beer, he tossed one to Peter and another to Bobby before cracking one open with an extended claw.
Colossus sat on the opposite end of the sofa Iceman commandeered, the two of them looking around Storm’s cozy home. Logan ignored them, grabbing for the phone and punching in Mary’s number. As an afterthought, he clicked the phone off and on again, dialing for Kenny instead.
First flushes of romance often led to extended sleepovers, or so he heard. Hell, if he still had Ororo, he wouldn’t have left any time soon.
He scowled as Kenny picked up the phone breathlessly.
“Where is she?”
“Oh, hey, Logan.” The man yawned. “’Roro called about an hour ago. She’s at Doc Bridges’ in town. Something about a broken knuckle. Said she’d be home by morning to take care of the dogs.”
“Good.”
He hung up without another word.
“Wolverine.”
Looking up at Peter’s soft call, he spotted the lights of Storm’s truck bouncing down the drive through the living room window. Steeling himself for being near her again, reminding his tortured beast within that she had turned him away, he moved toward the front door. Flanked by Bobby and Peter, he swung it open, stepping out onto the porch as she halted the truck.
Big, blue eyes were staring at him through the streaked windshield. He noted, somewhere in the back of his mind, that a young blonde woman was in the seat beside her. Storm glanced at the Blackbird, which had landed on the frozen lake, then back to him.
She was out of the truck in an instant, bounding across the yard as though she had no cares in the world.
“Peter. Bobby. You have both grown taller.”
“Storm,” Peter greeted with a warm smile. He hugged the slender woman tightly before passing her off to Iceman.
They spoke in quiet tones, which left Bobby’s ears red and both of them smiling. The blonde woman came up behind her, looking from one mutant to the other. Storm never spared Logan another glance.
“This is Dazzler,” she introduced quickly. “We apprehended the psuedo-military that came to kidnap her.”
“Hey, call me Ali,” the girl said with a winning smile.
“Wolverine.” Storm said a touch coldly.
Baby.“Storm.” He replied just as flatly.
“You made good time.”
Let me hold you. “Good conditions.”
“Is Henry here?”
Look at me. See me, damn it. “Yeah, already workin’ on the computer.”
“With little Kitten, I am sure. Come, come inside out of the cold. Did you tell them to make themselves at home, Wolverine?”
He grunted in response, hating his mental comments that in no way matched what he wanted to say to her. He didn’t want her. Yes, I do.
Following the odd menagerie of mutants inside, he listened half-heartedly as Storm and Dazzler said hello to Hank and Kitty. They launched into the tale of their “brilliant” fight against the would-be kidnappers and how the police were covering for them.
He didn’t have to scold her for going off on her own, Hank covered it much more delicately than he could. His heart was heavy when Storm easily brushed the furry mutant off, kissing his cheek sweetly.
She was still beautiful. Her movements were filled with grace, life as she moved through the crowded home. They talked about all they had learned, generally enjoying being reunited. Storm had obviously missed the X-Men in her long absence and they her.
Logan stood away from the group, nursing his beer as he leaned against the kitchen wall. The need to return to New York, to push her forever from his mind was strong. But he had promised to help find the bastards responsible for her condition, for taking Betsy. Once that was fulfilled, he could go back to his life.
He could forget about her. He had to.
~**~
Ororo tucked the blankets in more securely around Kitty’s shoulders. She reached over to take the sunglasses from Alison’s head, folding them gently on the nightstand. Both girls were sharing her bedroom, while the men slept in sleeping bags in the living room.
No one had even questioned Logan’s decision to sleep in the Blackbird. Storm was secretly glad that he had. It had taken all of her self-control to not simply leap into his arms and beg him to hold her. Their words were curt, even unfriendly, but she wanted to desperately heal the rift between them.
The X-Men’s arrival in Henry was not unexpected. She knew that Logan would summon the cavalry and lead them to Alaska the moment she’d hung up on him. They wanted to locate Elizabeth, to find her before she was left as broken and buried as Ororo had been.
On tiptoes, she slipped out of the bedroom, compulsively checking on each slumbering male in the living room. Beast was muttering about sausages under his breath, which made her chuckle soundlessly.
Without so much as a robe to cover her nightgown, she stepped into the cold night. Stretching cramped arms, she glanced toward the Blackbird, tilting her head at the Lights reflecting on the smooth exterior. Was Logan inside, lying awake and thinking of her? Did he ache for her touch as she grieved for his?
Though his lies had cut her deeply, though she wanted to stab the bullheaded man with his own claws, she wanted him with her now. During their cold exchange at first meeting, all she could think was how she needed him to hold her. Had her pride allowed it, she might have simply kissed him breathless right there in the kitchen.
She touched her lips without intending to, closing her eyes so the memory of his fevered kisses would come to her. Going to him now would only show weakness. No man had ever made her beg forgiveness and she certainly wasn’t going to start now. Logan made his choice when he lied to her.
His reasons made some sort of sense, but to her it was unforgivable. Whatever might have been between them was gone now. They would move on, find others. Logan seemed to have no problem with the distance between them. Three weeks together in the wild would soon be moved into memory, locked away until age and time brought it up again.
A flash of orange in the direction of the jet made her momentarily freeze. She could see a bulky silhouette in the darkness. Swirls of smoke rose toward the sky. He was watching the Lights, she realized, smoking a cigar in the dark quiet.
Inside of her, where she locked away the emotions that spiraled out of her control, she wanted to run to him. She swallowed hard. Ororo Munroe was not a weak damsel in need of aid.
Her feet remained rooted to the snowy ground.
As though he had sensed her, Logan’s head turned in her direction. She could see the glint of his obsidian eyes in the purple glow of the Northern Lights.
Make a liar out of me. She silently begged. Logan.
Their eyes held fast in that eerie light, neither of them moving. Ororo held her breath, wondering if he was as well. Three weeks was nothing in the grand scheme of things, but she wanted him to make it more. If he would only take a single step to her…
Her heart broke anew when he turned his back on her, looking up at the limitless, sinuous swirl of light above them. Ororo straightened her spine, dying inside. Her pride would not allow her to go to him and he did not want her.
She moved back into the house without pause. In a few days he would return to New York. Her life would shift to the way it had been. Things would be as they were meant to. This mantra ran over and over in her head as she crawled back into bed with Kitty and Dazzler.
The broken heart in her chest asked her stubborn mind that if this was the way Fate intended, why did it hurt so much?
