Chapter One: Escape
I can feel your heart beating
I can hear you breathing
Look into your eyes, tryna see into your mind
See into your soul
No limits to the levels me and you can go
When it's me that’s in control
But it's something bout you that makes me wanna change
I like the way you dancin, and the way you play the game
I like the way you take away the pain
~Diddy & Christina Aguilera
Black clouds swirled over the mansion, twisting and rolling until they formed an undeniable center. Around the eye, the storm raged silently in the heavens above. Lightning slashed through the thick darkness, soft rumblings of thunder answering the primal call.
He watched the gathering storm with a sort of detached calm. It wasn’t exactly natural, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. The lone mutant who controlled the bitter winds and impossibly thick clouds was somewhere on the grounds, probably pissed off at someone.
She was a lot of fun when she was pissed off.
Before he left, he’d stop to say goodbye to her. They hadn’t exactly become the best of friends or anything, but he felt she deserved to see him take off. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, she was expecting it. That was one thing he liked about her, it took a lot to really shock her.
With a grinding sound that seemed far too loud for his sensitive ears, Logan closed his duffel bag and turned to glance around the room. It wasn’t lavish by any stretch of the imagination. Still, for the last few weeks, it had started to feel like home. He’d even caught himself sticking photographs on the mirror.
Remembering the pictures, he reached over to grab the snapshots quickly. One was of Rogue and Bobby, laughing together on the lawn. Since the death of Xavier, the children seldom laughed anymore. Maybe that’s why he felt the need to put it up where he could always see it. Rogue looked so beautiful and that Iceman kid wasn’t so bad, after all.
The other photograph was puzzling.
Kitty Pryde had snapped it several weeks ago. Logan was standing on the back porch, leaning against the railing with a cigar in his mouth. Storm, in all her African glory, stood beside him. Her arms were woven across her chest and she was in the middle of rolling her eyes at him. He’d been professing undying love at that particular moment, which always made her smile. Somewhere in the last year, he realized it didn’t take much to make her smile, so he baited her into it often.
He liked that picture, though he couldn’t say why. Ororo Munroe was a rock. Logan liked to think of her as Xavier’s true heir. She had the same vision, the same tenacity and strong will. Like her mentor, she would be a constant here at the school.
Deciding he’d spent enough time delaying the inevitable, Logan threw his duffel over his shoulder before tucking his photos into his wallet. It was late by now, many of the students either in bed or downstairs until curfew. The teachers would make rounds soon enough, Ororo would do her own bed check. She always had to ensure the children were safe personally. He wondered where that impulse of hers came from.
He’d said goodbye to Rogue and the other younger X-Men already. Hank he’d talked to on the phone just yesterday, promised to keep in touch. Other teachers weren’t really his concern, though he did like that English telepath, Psylocke, quite a bit.
However, when he went looking for Storm, the last on his goodbye list, she wasn’t in her office. He checked her bedroom, the kitchen, even the garage only to come up empty handed. None of the students had seen her in several hours and that news made Logan’s heart rate jump a little.
It was no surprise that he and Storm were rather protective of one another now. They shared the terrible memory of Xavier’s death. He remembered how she’d held him as they stared at that empty chair in the wake of battle. The only reason he had even stayed at the mansion this long was some strange need to ensure she would be all right without him.
After depositing his duffel bag on the foyer floor, Logan decided to try one last room in hopes of finding Storm. Sometimes, in the first weeks after his death, he would find Storm wandering around Xavier’s bedroom.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he narrowly avoided colliding with Artie. Chuck’s bedroom, still unused as per Storm’s request, was at the other end of the teacher’s hallway. Ororo used the bedroom directly across from it with Logan midway down the hall.
The door was always left unlocked, so he stepped inside easily. The scent of the room and its departed occupant was fading now. Old leather, new ink, and something like spice had always greeted him when Charles was alive. Now, the room felt empty and cold without it.
Nothing had changed, not in the last thirteen months. Ororo refused to touch anything, except to dust it all off. Logan moved through the room quietly, almost reverently. The man that once slept here was the first to ever show the Wolverine kindness. That mutant changed his life forever. No matter where he went or what he did, there would always be a light left on for him at the school.
Rain. Logan blinked, glancing to the wide French doors that led onto Chuck’s private terrace. Fat, heavy raindrops pelted the windows and concrete outside. He could hear something off about the way it struck the glass, as though the rain was somehow sharp. Logan glanced to the windows on the opposite end of the room, not surprised to see it was warm and sunny.
He’d found Storm.
On silent feet, he drifted toward the doors. Many nights he’d found her out there, having a cup of coffee while looking up at the stars. She’d told him that she came here to talk to Charles, that it made her feel somehow less alone. Logan didn’t know if he believed the old man could hear her, but if it helped her sleep through the night, he was all for it.
When he reached the heavy wood doors, he grasped the brass of the handle and quickly pulled his hand back. His flesh was red, almost burned from the freezing metal. Something was very wrong here.
Logan grit his teeth, grunted through the pain, and opened the doors fully. As the glass and wood slammed open, a gust of artic cold slammed into the room. It stole Logan’s breath away, made his arms seem instantly numb.
Though just several feet from the balcony the skies were clear and the temperature warm for a spring afternoon, the small space attached to the mansion was like the North Pole. Rain fell like shards of ice, freezing in midair. Winds swirled around him, cutting through his clothing as though he were completely naked.
Shuddering from the sudden drop in temperature, Logan glanced toward the sky. The swirl of clouds reminded him of a hurricane, though the placement was more like a tornado. Such primal ferocity was in that enormous storm that it momentarily knocked Wolverine stupid. Terrifyingly powerful, beautiful in a way that defied logic, awesome as the hand of God, Ororo’s storm was something out of Biblical stories.
When he managed to turn his eyes from the dark clouds above, he found her. On one of the chairs Charles had kept out here for visitors sat the headmistress of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, but not as he’d ever seen her before.
In a flash, Logan realized two things. One: Storm was coming unglued. Two: He depended on her to not come unglued.
Ororo suddenly reminded him of his adamantium. He depended on both to never break, never shatter, to be there as his constant backup. Panic tore through him at the expression of utter hopelessness on her beautiful face.
She sat primly, legs crossed at the ankles, hands gripping the armrests of her chair, back ramrod straight. Her dark blue pantsuit was drenched with rain, her hair stiff from freezing in the frigid air. Logan moved to her slowly, his hands trembling from the cold. He wondered, in the back of his mind, if anyone had ever seen her this way.
As he reached her, he could see the hollowness in her dark eyes. It terrified him. One thing she was not and never would be was hollow. There was life in this woman. He had the undeniable need to reach into her and prove it.
He watched as a solitary raindrop slipped down the smooth curve of her cheek and off the edge of her sculpted chin. It froze in midair, then crashed to the ice-slick concrete. He no longer felt the cold or the rain seeping through thin layers of his clothing.
“Storm?”
She blinked, but showed no other sign of life.
“’Ro.”
Her lovely face turned to him. “Go away, Logan.”
That honeyed voice echoed with loss. It twisted the remains of Logan’s heart. He crouched in front of her, taking freezing hands in his. Instinctively, he warmed them by running his thumbs across icy palms.
“This is how you deal with it?” His question was soft, his eyes meeting hers.
“I cannot keep it up,” she admitted with tears in her voice. “I cannot be what Charles was. My family is dead. I am alone again.”
“You’re not alone,” he said immediately and fiercely. “I’m here.”
“You’ve never been here, Wolverine.” She sighed, turning her eyes to her storm. “It is your nature. You are a solitary creature.”
“’Ro,” he tried again.
“Leave.” The word was not angry or resentful, but wistful. “Find yourself.”
“I ain’t leavin’ ya like this,” he said somewhat harshly, his hands gripping hers more tightly.
Tears slid down her cheeks now, turning to ice on her frozen flesh. “I’m cold. I’m so cold, Logan.”
He could not bear this. Ororo was his rock, the unchangeable X-Woman that could carry the whole world on her back and still look like she stepped out of a magazine. With her slipping away, his entire universe tilted. He wanted only to reach for her hand, to bring her back.
“I’ll warm you up,” he insisted. “Come inside.”
“No,” she whimpered. “I cannot go back. There are demands on me, questions that I have no answers for.”
And in that moment, he understood.
“When’s the last time you were just human, ‘Ro?” He questioned quietly. “You can’t just be an X-Man, a teacher, and a mutant. You’re human, darlin’.”
She laughed, the sound as icy as the air around them. “I do not even recall what it means to be human.”
Logan watched her silently for a moment. He had to remind her, to show her that there was a reason to be human. Someone as buttoned up as ‘Ro was all the time couldn’t go too long without a meltdown. He figured this was the culmination of it. Someone had to step in and tell her that life was all around her.
So, without a thought as to the consequences, Logan did the only thing he could think of. He reached up, wrapping one of his hands around the nape of her neck. She tilted her head toward him a beat before their lips met.
Fire instantly replaced the cold. Logan felt her burning him from the inside out as she leaned up from the chair, desperate for contact. His arms slid around her, heedless to the wet clothing as he drew her closer. When she was flush against his chest, her breasts pressing into him, he parted his lips and ruthlessly took her mouth.
She made a noise that sounded like a moan in the back of her throat. Logan felt her entire body flex, as though she wanted to get closer. He’d never thought that so much passion could erupt so quickly. His heart thundered in his ears, blood pounded through his veins in a roaring rush. She was burning him, slowly and deeply until his senses were saturated by her.
Before he could stop the avalanche of desire, Ororo was pushing him down. He fell onto his back on the icy concrete. Her slender, warming body draped over his, her clothing soaking his more quickly than the rain had.
Her winds screamed, the rain and hail pelted the building surrounding them. Instinct made him cradle her head in his hands, without breaking contact from the sweetness of her mouth. He rolled them over, gladly taking several hailstones in the back to protect her.
With her arms around his neck, Logan nudged her thighs apart, easily settling between them in a frantic need to get closer. She tasted of rain and coffee and something smoky he couldn’t quite name. Her body was pliable and willing beneath his, begging to be used until she screamed for mercy. Her soul was bare to him in every touch of her hands, every sweep of her tongue. That terrifying vulnerability drew him in; made him want to rescue her in a way that he’d never felt before.
No words were necessary. As though by some unspoken vow, they simply suspended all thought and conscience. In this moment, there was only sensation, only this unbearable want for contact.
Ororo slid beneath him, her sopping body pulling him with her. Through the French doors they scooted, into the warm bedroom of their deceased mentor. She tugged at his shirt, obviously not caring that they were soaking the deep brown carpeting beneath them.
Logan leaned up on his knees, tearing the offending material from his chest. Ororo was smiling “ full on grinning “ at him in a way he had never seen before. Open and vulnerable as she seemed, she still bore that unmistakable sensuality. She begged to be taken.
On a groan, Logan leaned down to her again, wrapping her in a kiss that made his toes curl. His hands came up from her hips, smoothing over her clothing until he reached the buttons of her midnight blouse. With one massive tug, he ripped the material apart, sending buttons flying all over the room.
“Patience is a virtue,” she whimpered as he palmed two exquisite, silk-covered breasts.
“Not right now it isn’t.”
Her husky chuckle sent delicious shivers down Logan’s spine. He leaned down to her, letting his tongue collect several droplets of rain from her cocoa flesh. Her taste was almost more overpowering than her scent.
As though something snapped between them. Ororo yanked the button of his jeans apart, both of her impossibly hot hands sliding beneath the material to stroke his heated flesh. He groaned, nipping playfully at her neck while his hands slid up those mile-long legs.
Her skirt flew somewhere over his shoulder. Followed by her bra and panties. He didn’t care where they landed, so long as her body was blissfully bare beneath him. She worked his jeans down until he could shimmy out of them. They came together again in a clash of soaking flesh and lustful moans.
Her hands seemed to be everywhere and wherever she touched begged for more. She was drawing him in further and further with every breath. With her fantastic hands, she pushed him up until he leaned on his palms for support. A beat later, she assaulted his neck with that amazing mouth, sending Logan into desperate growls.
Sure, somehow, that he would not frighten her, he reached up to grab a fistful of her short white hair. She gasped deliciously when he tugged her head back. Without waiting for her to adjust, he latched on to her neck, suckling until he was lightheaded from the taste of her. Wanting more, he released her hair to take her hands, shoving them above her head to hold her prisoner.
Long, slow licks brought him from her throat to her breasts. He took each chocolate-colored peak into his mouth, making his lover arch and wiggle beneath him. Her desperate cries for more were music to his ears. Primal lust flared inside of him until this interlude was less about her and more about them.
Releasing her hands, Logan’s mouth traveled down the smooth expanse of her belly. His hands reached down to grasp her thighs so he could pull them further apart. She propped up on her elbows, staring down at him with lust naked in her eyes. He smirked at her a beat before burying his face in the apex of her thighs.
Thunder rattled the windows as he drank in the exotic juices. She was already wet and ready for him, making him growl against her heated flesh. He toyed with the slick folds of her, then circled the hardened nub with the tip of his tongue. Ororo’s hips came clean off the floor, his name tumbled from her lips in a growl as he clamped his hands on her hips to keep her in place.
He brought her up to his mouth, feasting hungrily on her. The sweet tang of her made his eyes roll into the back of his head. He hadn’t had a woman in some time and he’d definitely never had one like Storm.
Her climax was like a clash of thunder. Ororo arched her back and cried his name while the winds howled outside at their mistress’ command. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she attempted to bring him up to her. Logan slid up her body, kissing her deeply as he entered her without pause.
Storm’s head flew back and her body arched sharply into his. Logan buried his face into her neck on a long groan. Her body fit around him like a glove, pulling him deeper inside until he thought he would drown. Hot, wet, and needy she surrounded him. He drew back with a hiss only to pound back inside of her.
Ororo kissed his cheek as her hands wound into his hair. Those long, slender legs came up to wrap around his waist, opening her to him completely. He lifted his head, taking her lips as lustily as he took her body.
Every thrust of his hips scooted them on the carpet. It wasn’t enough. Harder, faster, deeper, he had to be part of her. He wanted, desperately, to get into her skin and take up residence there.
She panted his name when their lips broke apart for air. Logan growled hers in response, wiggling a hand between them so he could take one perfect breast. Her head thrashed against the carpeted floor, her body seeming to hum with electricity as he ushered her toward a second climax.
“That’s it,” he growled lowly into her ear. “Let me watch you fly, ‘Ro.”
Ororo crooned softly, her nails scraping his shoulders and back as she neared that precious edge between reason and heaven. Logan grit his teeth, determined that she would finish before he. Angling his hips slightly, he increased his pace. Sweat poured down his back, making her hands slip on his flesh.
“Come on, baby,” he continued. “I wanna feel you come.”
She exploded. Logan kept up his bruising pace, swallowing her cry of his name when he took her mouth again. She writhed and clenched around him, drawing him over the edge with her so that stars appeared before his eyes.
His body screamed for more, even as he swore into her mouth. That feeling of bliss, that moment of heaven, had never been so powerful for him. He rolled off of his lover, collapsing on the floor as he gasped for breath.
They fell into silence, trying desperately to return to the real world. Logan turned to look at her, somewhat shocked now at what they had done.
But the shock faded when he saw Ororo turn to him. The hollow look in her eyes was gone, her smile now lazy and sated. She reached over to touch his cheek, making his eyes close at the simple, affectionate gesture.
“When are you leaving?” The question was simple, honest without any hint of sadness or remorse.
“Tomorrow,” he answered without thinking. “Stay with me tonight.”
Ororo’s smile widened and she sighed somewhat teasingly. “I suppose.”
He rolled onto his side, reaching over to draw her closer. “Comere.”
~**~
She watched him bid goodbye to the children as he readied the bike. He never wore a helmet, though she understood why. He smiled at something Rogue said to him, then reached over to lightly swat Bobby on the head. They looked like a family in that moment. The older brother, the sister and the sister’s boyfriend. It was sweet.
Logan also said goodbye to Jimmy, from a safe distance. While Logan genuinely enjoyed the child, it was established early on that they had to stay apart. When Jimmy brought down Logan’s healing mutation, the metal inside his body could poison him quickly. They always thought it better to be safe than sorry.
When they children headed back into the house, Ororo came down the front steps. He’d stayed an extra two days, just for her. No one knew what happened between them, or that Logan had spent those nights in her room, in her bed. It was their business, no one else needed to know.
She was grateful to this man for saving her. Though she could not explain how, he suddenly reminded her of everything she was fighting for. He brought her back from the edge of madness, showed her that she could be human. Nothing meant more to her than his faith in her.
They’d talked for hours after her body begged for mercy. She still tingled all over, thinking of how he could manipulate it without direction. He told her to take time for herself, to stop comparing herself to Charles. She promised to try.
“Hey, darlin’.” He greeted her with a slow, secret smile. Somehow, she knew it was a smile reserved for her alone.
“Ready to go?” She questioned, returning the affectionate grin.
“Yeah.” Logan zipped up his leather jacket and tightened the straps on his pack. “You gonna be ok?”
“I think so,” she nodded. “You will keep in touch, won’t you?”
“Sure,” he winked. “I’ll drop in from time to time.”
Ororo tilted her head, her smile widening. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”
He swung his leg over the seat of the bike and revved the engine to life. Ororo moved closer, leaning in to kiss his cheek. He smiled, reaffirming to the weather witch that he would, indeed, be back.
“Take care of yourself.”
“You, too, darlin’.” Logan winked as she backed away from the motorcycle.
She watched as he drove off into the sunrise until he was nothing more than the fading sound of an engine slipping away. Ororo inhaled deeply, blowing out the breath as she turned back toward the mansion.
He would be back and she would be waiting for him.
