WILD STORM
The Return of…
Disclaimer: I do not own X Men or any Marvel associated characters
The cool summer breeze gently blew through the opened window, disturbing the Egyptian silk curtains. To the woman lying on the queen-sized bed the breeze offered slight comfort. Her normal sleep patterns had seen her wrapped in her white Egyptian cotton sheets, leaving parts of her body uncovered.
The figure in the shadows was perfectly still. He was watching the woman and he could not help but be drawn to her long shapely legs and her bare back. She was on her side and he could clearly see her profile. He could make out each contour, tracing the silhouette with his eyes, losing himself in the brown chocolate shade of her skin.
She had grown out her ivory hair, and from the angle he was looking at, he could see that it at least came to her mid back.
I guess I have been gone a long time. He thought to himself.
The months of traveling and searching had been hell, but they were worth it. He had found out so much about his missing past and he knew now that he could move on. The truth could set you free and that was something he now fully understood. By knowing his past, he could now put it to rest and move forward. He had returned to her, his memory of their time together fuelling his steps.
Would she forgive? Would she welcome him back? Would things be the same as they were before he left? Or would it all be broken?
“Questions”, he growled. It was always to better to get answers than questions. He would reveal himself and from there he would see where it goes. He could not predict her reaction, so he would not try, but he could not help himself. Stepping out from the shadows he had so easily blended into, he approached her form, wanting to catch a glimpse of her. As he got closer, the clouds seemed to part and the full moon that had been hidden was now fully exposed. The moonlight streamed through open windows and bathed her form in its silvery glow. His breath caught in his throat and he stilled, words escaped him. He stood still, truly appreciating the beautiful woman on the bed. He wanted more and he needed to catch a glimpse of her face, so he moved even closer.
The gentle breeze suddenly increased and the disturbance affected the sleeping woman. The woman on the bed murmured something in her sleep, shifting slightly and drawing the sheets closer to herself. The figure had paused when the breeze had picked up, not only because he did not want to disturb the woman but also because to his heightened senses the breeze had felt a bit arctic. Mentally shaking off the cold, he continued towards her, each step bringing him closer to her. Her scent, which had been diluted by the breeze, was now becoming more evident the closer he got to her. A natural fragrance that spoke of the garden she tended. The various scents that included the ancient Kenyan flower aptly titled ‘The Ororo’ that was the symbol of her tribe and followed her wherever she went. It clung to her body and was as much a signature of her as her ivory hair or deep blue eyes. It rode every wind and preceded the arrival of one of the strongest mutants he had ever known. There was something else in her scent he could not identify it.
He reached his hand to caress her face, to touch the woman he felt so deeply about.
That was when he saw it. Her usually svelte form was supplanted and the thin sheets only served to drive that fact home.
He stood motionless, hand stretched out but unmoving. He was in shock, tiring to process what he was seeing.
James Howlett, The Wolverine, Weapon X felt a surge of emotions that threatened to spill over and yet he stood still. His visage did not betray his inner turmoil.
The gentle curve of the sleeping woman’s belly left no room for ambiguity.
The memories came then and he was transported to chaotic events of what they called The Last Stand, the war in which so many people lost their lives.
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His advanced senses had picked up the person who approached him.
“Logan” a soft voice said spoke behind him and he turned to see the new Headmistress of The Xavier School for the Gifted.
He had been enjoying the view of the grounds and grabbing a bit of fresh air before he went to go and see the new students for at the main hall.
“What’s up Storm?” he asked and he knew that his tone conveyed that he knew exactly what was up.
“Were just about to start, with the assembly, I came up to call you” she said
He could hear the quiet dignity in the soft statement and he dropped his sardonic reply choosing instead to take her seriously.
“Just grabbing a bit of fresh air, I was actually about to come down in a little while, but I’m glad you came to get me” He said and he smiled to her trying to get her to relax a little bit. She also smiled and he truly appreciated it. He concluded that there was something to smile about, the school was back on track and the deaths of their comrades had been dealt with and accepted. Now all that remained was to move forward and to work together to keep Xavier’s dream alive.
“No problem Logan, let’s go. Some of the children are eager to see you after the holidays. It seems you rub off on people in spite of your loner status,” Storm said.
She was getting more relaxed Logan noted.
“Don’t you know I’m lovable guy once you get to know me.” He replied in a mocking tone.
“Lovable? Sure you’re lovable, if you’re into sharp edges and deep cuts” her playful tone lessening the sarcasm in her statement.
“That’s what you see on the outside. On the inside I’m as soft as a teddy bear”
“On the inside Logan you’re made of adamantium so that shoots that statement out the window” laughter evident in her voice.
The two then made their way into the house to welcome the new students.
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The strong wind blowing outside of his window awoke him and the hairs on his body began to rise. Something was wrong.
Snikt! The sound of metal was heard in the dark room. He did not switch on the light but he did not have to, he could see well enough without it. He flipped the bed sheets and steeped out of the bed, he made his way to to door but not before he grabbed the pair of jeans, he had discarded on the floor. Shrugging them on he made his way out. The weather report had said clear skies and calm weather but that was slowly being disproved by the strong winds and far away echo of thunder and lightening.
Storm.
He made his way to the second floor balcony and stepping through the doors he was shocked at what he saw. Storm was soaring through the air at incredible speeds and it seemed that the wind was trying to catch up with her. Thick black rain clouds were gathering, the thunder and lightening now growing closer and more pronounced.
“This is bad,” he said to himself. ‘There was something wrong with Storm she had never openly manifested her powers like, letting run free and unchecked. What made it even worse was that she was doing it on the first day of school, and for those who did not truly understand why she was called Storm this display of raw power would come as a shock.
That was not to be a problem because as soon as it came the storm suddenly quieted down and it was then that Logan saw her suspended in the air. She was motionless 100 feet off the ground and he could clearly make out her form. For a moment, everything was calm but suddenly to Wolverine, the world exploded.
Everything was calm
He immediately took action, resheathing, he claws he hopped onto the rail crouched low and the gathering his strength he launched himself into a trajectory that would coincide with the path of the now free falling Storm. Soaring through the air the Wolverine went to save his falling comrade. Front flipping to slow his momentum a bit he reached out his hands and caught her. Pure white eyes stared into his and even as they approached the ground, they changed to their normal cerulean blue. Still firmly in his arms, she clutched at his neck drawing herself to him.
“Logan” she whispered.
The impact with the ground would have been bone shattering for a normal but for Logan it was nothing. He was so worried about Strom that he did not even feel it.
“Ororo” he said. “Are you ok?”
“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my real name Logan” she smiled and then it seemed that fatigue overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes.
“Ororo” he said shaking her lightly.
She was asleep he realized and he listening closely he heard her steady heart beat confirming that she was fine.
He carried her back into the mansion were some of the older students were trying to figure out what was going on. He saw Bobby talking with some of the new students trying to calm them down and he realized that they needed calming down.
He raised his voice
“Nothing to worry about kids, Miss Munroe was just practicing and it seems she exerted herself a bit. Go back to sleep it’s alright.” Hopefully that would calm them down. “Bobby, Rogue, Kitty get everyone back to bed and I’ll take care of Miss Munroe,” He asked the three seniors. With that, he made his way up the stairs to Ororo’s bedroom.
The large room was serene, reflecting the owner’s personality. The roaring fire made it much warmer than other rooms and he was glad to be in from the cold.
He tried to lay her gently onto the bed, but the person he was trying to help impeded his attempt. Ororo had wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and it seemed that she was unwilling to let go. The close contact with Storm was something he had never experienced, he had not even had a casual hug with her. He could feel the soft swell of her breast and the hot air of her breath on his neck. His heightened senses only served to intensify the situation, making Logan aware of Ororo. She was assaulting his every sense and he did not know how long he could stay like this.
She suddenly woke up but Wolverine could see that she was disorientated and when her blue eyes regarded him, they suddenly widened. She flailed in his arms trying to get out of the compromising position. He decided to let her go but her moving had caused him to lose his balance, his mind being under siege from her being in his arms did not help him regain it.
They were tipping over and knowing that his large body mass could crush a normal person he turned mid fall so that Ororo was still in his arms but now she was on top.
They both lay still. Storm was on top of him, her brown skin hiding the blush that had come to her cheeks. They lay like that for a while, neither wanting to break the moment. He could feel and hear her heart racing and he knew that she could feel his.
He had never felt this way before and he realized something that had been part of his sub-conscious from the first time he had met her. She had the scent of someone he could give his heart. He lifted his head slightly and captured her lips with his own. At first, she resisted but soon she melted into the kiss. His hands reached up to slide through her hair and she in turn deepened the kiss.
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That was the beginning of their love affair. He made love to her that night and every other night until his abrupt departure.
Now he was back.
The door slammed open and as he turned to the intruder, he felt the enormous psychic blast rip into him and it was followed by a strong force that held him rigid and then hurled him out of the second story window. The psychic force ripped parts of the wall out as well. It continued to hold him but then he felt himself stop in mid air, he struggled against the hold but it was absolute. The force then inverted and began to drive him towards the ground as if to plant him as a flag on the institute’s grounds.
This is going to hurt he thought to him.
Inches above the ground an opposite force to the one that held him stopped his momentum. He felt the two forces strain against each other. The one that had saved him seemed passive, but strong and the attacking force was wild and powerful. He thought he was still going to be intimately acquainted with the ground but he then felt the second force increase its power and it then brushed the first off as if it was nothing more than an insect.
Disorientation in the form of being violently handled like a rag doll was not quick to fade and he found himself being flipped upright and then dumped onto his back.
Lying on the ground Logan had a clear view of the figures descending from Ororo’s bedroom. One was clothed in green, with a shock of fiery red hair and to go with that she was surrounded by an aura of intense red and gold light. The other figure was dressed in what looked like a silk maternity gown and this one had an even more intense aura of blinding silver light. The pair descended and landed next to him. Blue eyes regarded him quizzically. The owner of the eyes spoke in an intimately familiar voice spoke.
“If I had known who it was Jean, I would have let your crack his skull,” The figure said the anger and spite evident in her voice. She folded her arms, subconsciously emphasizing her very pregnant belly and she turned away. He could hear others coming from the house and the faint hum of a high tech hover chair.
“Welcome home Logan” The red haired figure said
“Is everything alright?” said a commanding voice that Logan had last heard broken and on the edge of despair.
“It seems our prodigal team mate has returned Scott,” said a familiar voice that snapped Logan from his slight daze.
“Ghosts” growled under his breath. Her back was still to him and that sent a spear through his heart. Relegating the ghosts to the back of his mind, he stood up and went to touch the woman he loved.
The contact was electric literally and figuratively because as soon as he touched her shoulder a bolt of lightening ran across his hand. He withstood it knowing that it would pass.
“Ro” he said softly.
She turned then he clearly saw the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over but they did not. He pulled her into his arms being careful not to disturb her growing stomach. She pulled back out of his embrace and he could see the grief plain writ on her face. The tears did not come but she used Mother Nature to expel some of them in her own way. The clouds swiftly gathered a torrential downpour started. Soaking everyone around them.
“I’ve shed too many tears over you Wolverine,” she said and pulling herself completely out of his arms, she gathered the wind lifted herself up into the air through the pouring rain and into her bedroom.
He stood there unmoving.
“Asked and answered,” he said to himself. He then turned to the ghosts wondering what was going on.
“We are not ghosts,” the ghost of Professor X said.
He was a bit startled.
“Great more questions” he said through the heavy rain.
…Questions
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