Chapter Three: Hollow Loss
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
~Rascall Flatts
Home wasn’t something that came easily to the mutant known as Wolverine. For too long, home had been the back of a long-forgotten pickup truck. Moving from place to place, living from day to day, that was the only life he could forge from the ashes of violation.
He thought, though, that this felt something like home. He stepped under the wickedly hot spray of Ororo’s shower and rotated his shoulders. She had the energy of a damn jungle cat. Inside and out of the bedroom. Four hours of grueling Danger Room training left even his rapid-healing body near to worn out.
Logan smiled as he ran his hands through his dark hair. Something about that woman was starting to get under his skin, especially in the last three weeks. He found himself drawn to her, to that stoic calm he knew could crack at any moment. Perhaps that was the allure, knowing there was a violent storm beneath the seeming calm.
She was a code he couldn’t crack and something about that just drove him wild.
There were things he could do for her that others couldn’t. Outside of their rather athletic bedroom tangos, he did minor repairs, ran Danger Room sessions…little things like that. Ororo always seemed to have a to do list five miles long and she accepted help whenever it was offered.
Then again, he mused, all she had to do was bat those huge blue eyes at someone for them to crumble like week-old bread.
Logan grabbed his shampoo and quickly massaged a healthy bit into his hair. Ororo expected him downstairs in a few minutes to meet with Hank about something or other. He didn’t quite know how he still rated a place as an X-Man, as part of Xavier’s dream, but Storm always insisted that it was something Charles wanted.
She understood, on a level he didn’t understand, why he had to leave, why he came back, that he needed this place.
He didn’t know how to thank her for that.
Lost in his thoughts, Logan didn’t notice someone had come into the room until the shower door opened. He raised a brow when something very warm and very pliable scooted past him to duck under the water.
Cracking an eye open, he drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Ororo, in all her glory, standing beneath the scalding spray.
“Hey,” he said in a low growl. “Who said I wanted to share my shower, woman?”
She smiled, lifting her face to the water. “It is my shower.”
“Ok, point,” Logan chuckled, his eyes drawn to that long, lithe form so generously displayed before him.
“I realized as I was waiting for Henry that I smell rather badly,” she explained, reaching around him to grab her shampoo. The graze of her breast against his shoulder sent his blood hot through roaring veins.
Sniffing the air lightly, Logan shrugged one shoulder. “Smell fine to me.”
One of those sapphire eyes popped open. Under the heated water, her hair matted to her head and that easy, sexy smile on her face, she was easily the most beautiful thing on the planet. While Jean had been girl-next-door pretty with a soft, secret smile, Ororo brought out the animal in him, embraced it while seeming as otherworldly as a goddess on earth.
He had loved Jean and always would, on some level. But he wanted Ororo. To possess, inflame, challenge…he wanted her more every day. It should have terrified him, but when she smiled like that, nothing seemed to frighten him.
As she rinsed her hair, Logan stepped closer in the large shower stall. She was humming some song, her body swaying slightly to her own tune. His hands itched to be on her again, though it had only been a few hours since he’d had her last.
Giving in to the insistence of his body, Logan slid both of his hands around her, flattening his palms against her flat, wet belly. His face buried in the crook of her neck, which she instinctively exposed with a soft groan.
“Logan?” Her breathy whisper made his head spin, his cock hardening almost instantly.
“We’re gonna be late.”
She only sighed as he turned her around, his hands gliding up to cup both chocolate peaked breasts. The water sluiced over them both, making it easier to touch. Her skin felt like liquid fire, sending his senses into overdrive.
Logan concentrated on the pound of her heart, the scent of her skin, the feel of her body as she melted in his arms. This was reality to him. Something tangible in a world that sometimes felt as surreal as dreams. His tether, his anchor.
The reason he had come back.
He had not wanted to admit it, but only Ororo drew him back to the mansion. The pull of her, knowing she needed him on some primal level he didn’t want to explore had sent him from Canada to New York. Relief at just seeing her face was terrifying on it’s own, but he didn’t want to dwell on that.
Being without her was like missing an arm. Not that he was prepared to tell her that. She had become his friend since Jean’s death, his confidant. Now, she became an unrivaled lover. He wondered how many in the world could claim to have such a lover. She inflamed and soothed him at the same time, calling on both man and beast.
Ororo did something to him, something he could not explain or understand.
She stepped backward, her body pliable and willing in his hands. When she hit the wall, Logan scooped her up by lifting just under her arms. Ororo smirked, letting him position her and wrapping her mile-long legs around his waist.
“Logan?” Her voice, husky with want, made him shiver.
“Yeah, ‘Ro?”
“Don’t be gentle.”
He groaned, leaning down to capture her lips with his. Vixen. She always knew what to say, how to draw out whichever side of him she wanted at that moment. He felt the beast inside of him pound to the surface, wanting to claim her with every cell in his body.
Her hands fell to his shoulders, long nails scoring his flesh eagerly. His hips shifted against her belly, letting her feel his swollen cock against her flesh. Ororo tore her mouth from his, groaning loudly as her hips angled up sharply, begging for attention.
Logan dropped a hand to the apex of her thighs, his hands gliding easily with the hot water coating them both. He nipped at her lips, finding her hot and ready for him. She was always ready for him, wanting him nearly as badly as he wanted her.
This would probably come back to bite them in the ass, but damn, it felt too good to deny.
One of his thick fingers slid inside of her, making him groan helplessly against her mouth. Her wet, receptive body pulled him closer. Lust and need pounded through his body, demanding he take her hard, fast, until she screamed his name.
Her hips pumped against his hand, a whimper leaving her kiss-swollen lips as his thumb grazed her clitoris. With her nails digging even further into his shoulders. The twinge of pain only brought the pleasure higher inside of him. His erection hot and heavy against her, he leaned over her, nibbling a path from her lips to her ear.
“What’d’ya want, darlin’?”
She knew his game. He liked things vocal and she had learned to play very, very well. Ororo grinned, thrusting her hips against his fingers to make herself moan.
“Take me,” she whispered. “Fuck me, Logan.”
He growled into her ear, his hips rocking against her reflexively. “Yeah?”
“Now,” she demanded, reaching between them to cup his dick in her hand.
“Fuck,” Logan groaned, rocking his hips into her masterful touch.
He let her guide him, twisting his hips and seating his erection inside her without pause. Logan grabbed both of her hands, holding them above her head with one of his. His free hand gripped her hip, holding her in place while he drove into her again and again.
Ororo threw her head back, allowing him to restrain her. She groaned and whimpered with every thrust of his hips, begging him for more in a voice that drove his animal screaming to the surface. Oh, his Storm loved to be dominated. She needed to let someone else take control, if only for a moment.
Her memorized body flexed against his, every twitch of every muscle burned into Wolverine’s memory. He knew her, intimately, knew how she reacted if he licked that spot on her neck or angled his strokes just slightly to the left.
She pulled him closer with those powerful legs, her breasts bouncing with every move of their bodies. Sex with ‘Ro was like a religious experience.
He fit inside her like she was made for him. Her inner muscles gripped him to the point of pain while her eyes turned their signature white and her flesh hummed with power. Logan could only hold on, pounding inside of her until he thought he would die.
When they exploded, he felt his vision darken for a moment, her name tumbling from his lips on a feral growl. She whimpered his name, arching her body stiffly into his. The water had turned cold, but neither of them noticed.
Logan wondered, as he wrapped her in another kiss, if she realized he was falling in love with her.
~**~
Kitty Pryde yawned as she sat up in bed. Piotr’s heavy body scarcely moved as he slept, his beautiful mouth parted as he snored. She chuckled at him, glancing around the room as someone knocked again.
“Hang on,” she called softly, reaching for the bathrobe she always left at the foot of the bed.
She pulled the soft red satin over her shoulders and yawned again. Her socked feet made soft noises on the polished hardwood as she moved to the door, wondering who was knocking this late.
With a glance at Pete, she opened the door slightly.
The odd chill woke her immediately. She could almost feel her mutation suppressed by the tall, bald boy sheepishly standing at her door. A slow, easy smile curved her lips and she opened the door a little wider.
“You, ok, Jim?” she asked, raising her voice as much as she dared.
“Uh, yeah,” the boy nodded. “Um, that new girl, Abby? She’s crying. She wouldn’t let me into her room, so I thought…”
Kitty rubbed her eyes, coming into the hall. “Didn’t wanna wake Storm?”
Jimmy shook his head as they moved toward the stairs. “She didn’t answer.”
“Weird,” Kitty said with a frown. She shrugged one shoulder. “Well, lets see if I can get Abby to open the door for me, huh? Let Storm sleep.”
Her young friend smiled slightly, following her as they descended two flights of stairs to the younger girl’s bedroom. Abby had only been at the mansion a week and her period of adjustment was not going well. Kitty felt for the girl, who latched onto Jimmy like a lifeline.
When they reached the door, Kitty knocked quietly. “Abby? It’s Kitten.”
A sniffle. “I’m ok.”
Jimmy and Kitty shared a look that clearly said they weren’t having any of that. “Come on, Abs.”
Smiling at her friend’s nickname for the younger student, Kitty knocked again. “Abby, don’t make me get Peter here to open the door for you.”
There was a short pause and then the bedroom door popped open. Kitty and Jimmy entered together, finding the petite blond crying on her bed.
As expected, the girl calmed quickly. Homesickness, Kitty knew, could be debilitating. She left the young charge with Jimmy, knowing the two would comfort one another easily. Kitty headed back to her room, confident that all had been taken care of. She could still grab another couple of hours of sleep curled up to her big Russian teddy bear.
Yawning again, Kitty paused as she reached her room. Glancing down at Storm’s bedroom door, she contemplated for only a moment. It was odd for Storm to not answer a knock on her door, even when Wolverine was around.
The students weren’t stupid; everyone knew something was going on between the feral mutant and their Headmistress. Most of them decided to keep their mouths closed about it.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to check on her as she was already on a roll, Kitty moved down the hall. Logan had been gone a few weeks, which usually meant Storm didn’t sleep for a few nights. Usually, though, that period would have been over by now.
Maybe she’d gone out for a nighttime flight. Still, something in the back of Kitty’s mind made her knock on the door soundly.
Nothing.
She bit her lip, knocking again. “Storm?”
No answer.
Panic welled in her chest, as it had since losing three X-Men two years ago. Kitty pounded on the door. “Storm? Answer me, damn it.”
Deciding that she would risk a lightning bolt up the ass, Kitty promptly phased through the door. It was bad manners, but she really couldn’t care less at the moment.
Kitty noticed two things were very wrong in the same moment. One, the bedroom windows were still closed. Two, she caught the faint scent of blood on the air. Worried now, Kitty reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
“Oh, my God.” The young X-Woman’s hands flew to her mouth in acute shock.
Lying on the floor, half inside the bathroom was her Headmistress. Blood had pooled on the creamy carpet, soaking deep into the fibers. Kitty ran to her, grabbing her friend’s hand and searching for the wound.
“PETER! PETER! PETER, HURRY!”
She kept screaming, unable to think of anything else to do. Commotion erupted outside at the echoing sound of her screams.
“K-Kitten…” Ororo’s whimper tore her heart apart.
“I’m here,” she whispered back, rubbing her arms to warm her. “You’re so cold. Hang on, Storm. Just hang on.”
A beat later, Colossus tore the bedroom door down. His massive form, face screwed into a mask of worry, stepped over the threshold in search of his lover.
“Storm?” Fear trickled into his voice and he rushed to them.
Iceman and Rogue followed, both of them trying to hold back the younger, more impressionable students.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Kitty explained to her love. “She’s bleeding.”
Sorrow filled Peter’s eyes as he took in the blood pooled between Ororo’s legs. “I do. Let me have her.”
He scooped the light woman into his arms. “Kit-Kat, go start the Jeep. Hurry, now.”
Kitty immediately phased through several walls, narrowly beating Peter to the garage. She wondered, for a moment, if he had somehow learned to fly. He cradled his beloved teacher in his arms, whispering prayers and consolation in her ears. Kitty grabbed the Jeep’s keys and slid into the driver’s seat.
Peter sat in the back, Ororo protectively in his arms. Kitty tore off into the night, tears blurring her vision as a realization came over her like the fingers of death.
Where are you, Wolverine? You have to come home.
~**~
Sunlight beamed merrily through the windows. The sky was a brilliant blue, filled with fluffy, marshmallow-like clouds. Everything seemed pristine and perfect. It was one of those days when families could be found playing in the park, when the sound of children’s laughter rang through the air.
She closed her eyes briefly, letting a single tear escape. Her body hurt, but it was nothing compared to what her heart was going through. The homey hospital room gave her little comfort, even with all of the cards and flowers her students and friends saw fit to decorate it with.
The chatter of nurses outside, the occasional wail of a newborn, it all faded into the background. All she could feel, all she could think, was that Fate had turned it’s back on her, again.
The door opened quietly and without turning, Ororo knew who it was. He had not visited yet and she knew Kitty would have called him first. Dealings in Washington had likely made it difficult for him to come sooner, so she could forgive him.
“My darling child,” Beast said as he entered, closing the door behind him.
Ororo turned her eyes to him, managing a small, heartbroken smile. He was wearing jeans and a faded Polo shirt. The casual clothing would have looked ridiculous on his massive, furry form, but she only saw a handsome devil.
“Henry,” she greeted, raising a hand to wave him closer.
He clutched a handful of daisies, laying them on her food tray as he took the chair beside her bed. Ororo shifted against her pillows, wincing at the twinge of pain that shot through her womb. Another painful reminder of what she had lost.
Henry took her hand, kissing the back of it with sorrow in his blue eyes. Ororo looked away, fearing she would burst into tears at any moment.
“I would ask how you are doing, but it is written clearly on your face, my friend,” he whispered. “I am so sorry for your loss, ‘Roro.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, the beautiful day reflecting her grief with rolling black clouds. She fought to regain control, smiling sadly to her friend as he squeezed her hand in comfort.
“It is so stupid,” she said tearfully. “I did not even know I was pregnant and I mourn the loss so deeply.”
“It is not stupid,” Henry said gently. “Your body created life and before you could rejoice in that miracle, it was cruelly taken from you. You, my darling, have every right to grieve.”
Ororo’s sob caught in her throat and Henry was off his chair immediately. He scooted onto the bed, drawing her into his arms as the clouds broke open. The heavens wept as she did while Henry rubbed her back, whispering what he hoped were soothing words against her hair.
“My baby,” Ororo wept. “My child. I lost him before I even knew him.”
“Cry, my dear,” Henry pled, his own voice thick with unshed tears. “I would, if it were me.”
She gave in, letting the damn burst in Henry’s arms. He would never judge her, think her weak for this moment of complete sorrow. He held her firmly, tethering her to the world while she was awash in grief. It felt like she was dying, like a part of her was lost with that of the child taken so swiftly from her womb.
When, at long last, she had no more tears to shed and the skies cleared once more, she lay back against her pillows. Henry gently touched his furry hands to her face, soothing her as a father would a brokenhearted child.
“There,” he said simply. “You were human and the world did not end.”
Ororo smiled weakly. Her hands fell to the sore and empty womb her child had died in and she took a shuddering breath.
“I think I would have been a good mother,” she admitted. “I think I would have liked to.”
“You will have other chances,” Henry assured her with a fond smile. “And I agree. You would be a phenomenal mother. Just look at how you raised me.”
She chuckled lightly before the sorrow found her again. “I did not know what was happening. One moment I felt just fine and the next…the pain was so harsh. I could not even call for help.”
Henry caressed her cheek, then let his hands join hers. “I wish I had been there to help you.”
“There wasn’t anything anyone could do,” she sighed. “It just…happened. Nothing is to blame, or so they tell me.”
“Nature and Fate have their reasons, my friend.” Henry told her, though the words lacked his usual conviction.
“Huh,” she grunted. “Perhaps they could leave me alone for a while. I am sick of this devastating loss.”
They lapsed into silence for some time. Ororo looked to her friend and exhaled deeply. He would not understand, but at least he would follow her instructions without asking too many questions.
“Henry? Would you take that letter on the table there?” She pointed behind him. “Send it for me.”
“A letter to Logan?” He asked, taking the thin envelope gingerly.
Ororo nodded. “I have to tell him, at least. He checks in with a mailing service once a week. It is the only way I have to reach him.”
“I understand,” Henry squeezed her hand again. “I will ensure he gets it.”
“Thank you.”
She turned her eyes back to the window, drowning in her loss again. Would Logan come back? Would he feel the loss of their baby as keenly as she did?
I need you, she thought to the man alone somewhere in the world. I need you, Logan.
~**~
Monterrey, Mexico
“Señor Logan?”
Through the thick cigar smoke surrounding him, Logan looked up at the bartender. He was leaning over the billiard table, about to take a money-making shot when the old Mexican man approached the table.
“¿Qué usted desea?”
The man handed him what looked like a weather-beaten envelope. Logan tossed it onto the table with a curt nod, intent on winning his five hundred dollars from the jerkoffs standing behind him.
With a resounding bang Logan’s pool cue struck the balls, sending several striped into the various pockets.
“Eight ball, corner pocket,” he called around his cigar.
Bang!
He collected his money with a proud smirk, stuffing the various bills into his pocket as the crowd dispersed. Taking his letter, he settled at the bar, ordering another beer.
Mexico wasn’t so bad, he guessed. Hot as hell, but there was plenty to entertain himself. He missed New York, missed the woman that drew him back there, but he needed time to think. She was quickly taking him over, every day away from her proved that.
Could he go back and stay? Did she even want him to? Questions. Questions. No answers.
Sipping his beer “ which tasted something like warm piss “ Logan glanced at the letter in his hands before dropping his cigar into a waiting ash tray. The feminine scrawl of his name was familiar and for a moment, he was too terrified to open it.
This service, they’ll forward anythin’ to me. You need me, use it.
Only in a dire emergency, but thank you.
Praying no one had died, that his friends and family were all in one piece, he tore the letter open. The paper still smelled like her and he closed his eyes, imagining her beautiful hands as she wrote to him.
Logan,
Come home. I did not know how else to start this letter. Please, Logan, come home.
You deserve to know, but this is the most difficult thing I have ever put into writing. When you left two months ago, I was pregnant. I did not know it at the time. I did not know it until today.
I lost the baby. I’m so sorry, Logan.
~Ororo
As the letter fell from his hands, the noise and stench of the bar faded around him. Pregnant. She’d been pregnant. She’d been carrying his child in her womb as he drove into the sunrise.
No longer. She’d lost the baby. Oh, God. What had happened? Was she on a mission, completely unaware of the life snuggled inside of her? Had she been hurt? Had Fate simply seen fit to hurt him again?
Rage and sorrow warred within his breast. In a single instant he loved and mourned the child he never got a chance to know. Tears stung the back of his eyes. He stood up from the bar, clutching the letter to his breast as he paid his bill.
Logan stumbled into the night, hauling his suddenly aching body onto the seat of his motorcycle. Raging at the God he’d never believed in, drowning in the pain now welling in his chest, he roared the bike to life.
But instead of turning it north, toward her, he pointed it south and kept on running.
