The Distant Calls of Fall
Chapter #02 Thinking of You, Part 2
Brooklyn, New York
Wednesday, September 22nd 2004
2:27 pm EST
Fighting her discomfort, Ororo concentrated on the ceiling’s tiles and warmly tinted lights above her in the clean room of Dr. Erica Matthews’ office. Doing her best not to think about why she was here, her mind roamed over the classes she’d taught that morning and the ‘little white lie’ she threw at Scott in order to have him take her one afternoon session. She didn’t relish the idea of being untruthful with him but wasn’t going to tell him where she was actually going.
“Okay Ororo, you can sit up for me.” Erica’s cheerful, most times soothing voice sent chills up Ro’s spine as she slid up on the examination bed, allowing her bare legs to dangle between the stirrups.
As the doctor carefully pulled off her latex gloves, sliding on her rolling stool toward the biohazard waste can and quickly washing her hands, the expectant patient watched her every move as though she could tell what the answer would be just from the doctor’s composure.
Turning back to Ro as she dried her hands, Erica smiled up at her. “Well, I’d like to wait for the blood test to come back, but from what I can sense and feel I’d say congratulations are in order.”
Ororo didn’t immediately respond, her wide eyes directed at the doctor but she wasn’t really looking at her.
Dr. Matthews continued as though she hadn’t noticed. “I mean, between you and me, you know I can tell these things”with my mutant gifts”but I’ve been known to give false-positives every once in a while, so I like to back myself up with modern medicine.”
“…You…you’re sure?”
“Well, look at it this way: the walls of your uterus appear enlarged, the cervix is almost completely closed, and the hormonal change in you is almost palpable. The symptoms you described for the past few weeks have me ready to put money on it. But all the same, we can wait for the test results”should be about 48 hours or so.”
“But…but we used protection.” Ororo said weakly, feeling her face flush. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or faint.
Finally, Erica came out of her medical high and really looked at the expression on her patient’s face. She slid close to the exam table, and took Ro’s hand. She could feel the other woman shaking. “I take it this wasn’t planned?”
Ororo shook her head, gulping. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She didn’t want to hear what she was hearing. Flashes of Logan’s beach-front home passed before her mind’s eye…in particular an empty upstairs room colored with crayon pictures and frilly bed linens that would never be used again…
When Ororo dissolved into tears, Dr. Matthews was almost surprised; not that she’d never had patients receiving unexpected”or unwanted”news in her office before, but from everything she knew after having Ororo as a patient for close to six years, to see her almost beside herself like this was a bit of a shock.
The window shaded with closed blinds on the other side of the office couldn’t hide the shift in the light outside, as clouds began to cover overhead. Realizing exactly what that was, Dr. Matthews enveloped her patient in a hug, patting Ororo’s back as she let her get her tears out of her system. “Ororo, honey what is it? You know you can talk to me.”
Glancing up into the doctor’s soothing face, Ororo tried to collect herself, eventually spilling the edited story of the man she was in love with, but explaining only that he had a job that would never allow them to be together. Then came the story of what happened to his first child. For a moment, the doctor didn’t know what to say.
“Well, this changes a lot.”
Madripoor City
Thursday, September 23rd
2:27 a.m. Local Time
The nightly replay of partying tourists, accommodating locals and the covert military team watching them both carried on from the 3rd story of the Hydra Arms Hotel. Logan’s eyes peeled over as many faces as he could; his gut told him there was something different about this night, and the raised hackles on his neck only confirmed it.
After about another 30 minutes, he knew he’d been right.
Moving quicker than the other street walking denizens, a hood-wearing suspect ducked and weaved down Americana Street, the oversized clothing more suspicious than anything else. Logan couldn’t make out any part of the suspect’s face, but didn’t have to; he recognized the predatory walk, the swing of the arms, the stringy tendrils of dirty-blond hair that escaped the hooded sweatshirt’s cover.
Tapping the comm. link positioned in his right ear, he didn’t think twice about rousing his team so suddenly, knowing they were all sleeping with the communication devices still in place. “Look lively, people. We’ve got a sighting.”
Down on the street below, the suspect roughly pushes through the slower passersby that don’t see him coming. He receives several curses of course, but doesn’t even look back as he rushes down Americana toward the next cross street Wabaston Lake. His palms were already clammy and his heart rate doing double time in anticipation. He could almost feel the eyes on him and that only meant trouble. He had to get to the bus station on the next street, however; it was the only one in the city that had a direct route to the airport.
Skirting around a pair of on-duty Madripoor City police officers, he didn’t spare them a second glance either; both were otherwise engaged in ‘conversation’ with the barely-dressed young women shamelessly draped against the squad car. He knew it wasn’t local law enforcement he had to worry about anyway; instead, his sharp blue eyes kept roving over every darkened alley corner, every Calypso,-masked celebrator that drifted too close to him. Any one of them could be an agent”the type of agent that belonged to secret, clandestine military organizations that thumbed their noses at little things like “anti-extradition laws”.
Approaching the intersection, a group of youthful partiers caught him off guard as they lit (illegal) fireworks in the street; the group dispersed the circle they’d formed around the smoldering M80 and a quarter stick as they prepared to cause all kinds of noise and lights”and trouble. That small distraction was enough to take his concentration off of the nearest side street, and as the explosions streamed through the street”and the crowd”the suspect darted toward the ‘safety’ of that alley, realizing too late his mistake.
“Where’re you goin’ boy?” The rough voice asked mockingly just as a large hand darted out from the shadows to yank him like a yo-yo into the seclusion of the alley.
Logan shoved the man against the brick of the building, holding him there as he reached up and stripped the hood away from the suspect’s face. A pair of dark blue eyes pierced his silver ones as recognition registered. The other man growled low in his throat but didn’t immediately make a move to get away. “What the fuck do you want, Pops?”
“Watch your mouth, kid.” Neena’s sultry voice came from behind them as she emerged from the shadows, looking down as she loaded the automatic hypodermic with a blue-greenish vial.
At the sight of the instrument in her hands, the man began to struggle. “’Kid’?? Screw you, lady. I betcha I got a good twenty years”“
Logan’s pointed elbow jabbed the man’s neck as he laid most of his weight into the leaner mutant’s side. He growled up at him in warning before demanding: “Shut the hell up. Look at me, boy. You know why I’m here. Start talkin’.”
“Or what?” a lopsided grin revealed sharp canines too big for his mouth.
Domino clutched the hypo sprayer, taking a step toward them, but Logan had other things in mind. His eyes narrowed to slits and in the darkness of the alley, glowed an eerie silver. Piercing the man with his gaze, he muttered, “You remember what I did to yer brother..?”
The goading grin on the man’s face faltered noticeably, and his body stiffened reflexively at the reminder. With pure malice, he replied, “Yeah, and so does Victor.”
“Where the hell is he?” Logan’s arm threatened to crush the man’s windpipe if he didn’t cooperate soon. “Don’t jerk me around, Kyle; where’s your father?”
Puzzled at the use of the familiar tone, the younger man grinned even harder before hocking up the biggest mouthful of saliva he could and sending it directly into Logan’s face. More angered than surprised, Wolverine lunged backward only so much to get a good swing, sending his adamantium-laced fist into Kyle’s ribs. The satisfying sound of bone cracking met the field commander’s ears”along with Kyle’s sadistic (albeit winded) laughter.
Sliding down to the ground, he slumped over on his side, holding his ribcage as he tried not to breath too heavily lest a lung get punctured. Glaring up at Logan, Kyle grinned like a Cheshire cat, breathing shallowly. Domino stepped in and pressed the hypo spray against Kyle’s neck quickly, shooting him full of the cocktail that would not only dampen his mutant abilities but also knock him out cold in a few seconds.
Standing over the young man, Wolverine growled down at him, trying to suppress the urge to tear him limb from limb. “Just as stupid as yer old man.”
His eyes blinked slowly as the sounds and lights from the street beyond quickly faded. Kyle could only think of one parting retort, slurred as he dissolved into unconsciousness: “Ruunnsss in th’ fam’ly, don’t it…Uncle Jimmy?”
Westchester, NY
Saturday, September 25th, 2004
11:40 a.m. EST
Just a week ago, she’d planned to spend the weekend quietly tending to her gardens behind the School, but instead Ororo found herself up early for an entirely different reason, making more frequent trips to the bathroom as the days passed. Most of her morning sickness was between 5:30 a.m. and 10 a.m. but every once in a while a certain smell from the kitchen would send her hurrying for the nearest toilet.
This morning was no exception, but a the moment she felt a little better. Physically, anyway. After speaking with Dr. Matthews’ office Friday”the blood test came back positive, of course”she was now faced with decisions she never imagined herself having to look at. While Ororo definitely knew she wanted children at some point in her life, she would not have said that time was a month ago, and certainly not with a man she’d mutually decided not to have a relationship with.
Standing in her attic loft bedroom, she visually scanned every inch of her naked body before the wide vanity mirror. She turned to a profile, then fully faced the reflection, as if she’d be able to tell she was expecting. Of course her body had no physical signs of her pregnancy yet, but she couldn’t stop the morbid fascination from taking hold. Rubbing her hand over her still-flat belly, her mind went back to a tentative suggestion from Dr. Matthews…
“Ororo, we’ve known each other for some time, so I feel like I can speak up front with you, okay?”
“…Okay.”
“Now, you’ve stated this pregnancy wasn’t planned, and after the…problems your boyfriend’s first child had, you may want to consider”“
“Um, Dr. Matthews..?”
“Yes?”
“I…I’m not ready to have this conversation yet, okay?”
“…I understand. You need time to get your mind around things. You have my number, but even if you just need to talk, here’s my home and cell.”
“Thanks.”
Ororo’s mind echoed with the doctor’s unfinished suggestion. She didn’t want to let her mind wander too far into her “options”, but she knew it was something she’d have to seriously consider at some point. Did she want this child? Considering what happened to Amarha, should she have this child? What would Logan think..?
Sighing heavily, she knew certainly that she had none of the answers for any of those questions. Looking down at her navel, she muttered, “Well, you’re barely a good month and causing problems already.”
Pausing, she couldn’t help but a tinge of a smile after saying that. Straightening her face, she shook her head at herself. She was talking to a fetus she wasn’t even positive she was going to keep. ‘Maternal stuff kicking in already?’
Later in the afternoon, Ororo drifted downstairs to the sounds of some of the in-house students’ laughter outside. She couldn’t tell if they were in the front or the back of the grounds, but knew they were relatively safe even with the skeletal security crew on the weekends. She couldn’t remember liking the sounds of children as much as she did today, and pushed that sort of thought far, far into the recesses of her mind.
Heading toward the kitchen, she realized she hadn’t eaten anything yet. It was going to be a challenge to manage not wanting to puke every time she smelled anything cooking”especially any type of vegetable, for some reason”but she knew she’d have to keep appearances up. Besides, she was going to meet with Marie and Beth this afternoon, and those two could be apart from their sister for months and come back and tell she’d changed something about her daily routine.
And then there was Scott…
She could hear his voice before she came to the threshold of the kitchen area, and despite her apprehension of seeing him now, she wanted to see a friendly face more than anything that morning.
As Ro rounded the corner, her heart nearly skipped a beat and she stopped like a deer in headlights.
The three at the island counter turned toward her; Scott’s face broke into a natural smile as he took a bite of an apple. His two companions were a little more aware of her apparent surprise at their presence.
“Morning, Ororo. Or should I say ‘Afternoon’?” He teased at how long she’d apparently taken to make her arrival downstairs.
Her eyes darted from Scott’s female guest to the male sitting across from her as psi-shields went up automatically. “Good morning to you too, Scott. I’m sorry I didn’t realize we were going to have a guest. I would’ve come down sooner.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, Ororo. How have you been?” Jean’s smile never let on that she felt the mental ‘walls’ blocking her as any physical bricks would have. It made her curious, but she hid it well and resisted the urge to pry.
Glancing at David North as his eyes stayed on her, Ororo smiled a little in his direction before going to the farthest refrigerator and opening it to take a look”and hide herself from their gaze. “You know me; keeping busy…Morning, David.”
“Ororo.” He’d turned a little in his stool-chair watching the door of the stainless steel fridge as though he could see her through it. There was something “too cool” about the way he said her name. She fought the same uneasy feeling she’d dismissed the day she met him.
Distracted by her thoughts, Ro didn’t realize Scott had come up behind her until his deep voice startled her. “Hey, we were going to go into the city and maybe catch a movie. Want to come with?”
She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less. “Oh, I’m sorry guys. I’ve been neglecting some duties around here. I was planning on playing catch up before the school week got started.”
Scott didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “Ah, Ororo that’s what Sundays are for. Come on...”
“Yes, please.” David chimed in, a sort of grin plastered on his face. “I don’t mind saying I’d hate to be the 3rd wheel for these two.”
“See?” Scott said triumphantly, as if that settled it.
“Yeah, I haven’t seen you in a while, Ororo. I thought we could catch up.” Jean said, and when Ororo looked at her knew she meant it. Off hand however, she wondered what they had to “catch up” on…
“Well, I hate to be the party-pooper, but I actually do have other plans. School related as they are; Marie and Beth are meeting me this afternoon, Scott…I decided to take your suggestion.” She didn’t meet his gaze as she relayed this but sensed she didn’t have to, almost feeling his surprise and approval.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” She admonished, as though he shouldn’t be surprised. “I’m not a total diva when it comes to having my own way, you know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Whatever.” She punched him on the arm playfully, and the two dissolved into a fit of chuckles.
Behind them, Jean and David couldn’t help but watch the exchange; their expressions told different stories before each schooled the emotions away. Leaning toward Jean, David murmured, “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”
Shrugging, Jean glanced at him before turning her gaze back to Scott as he helped Ororo with an unopened jar of pickles. “Haven’t a clue. I don’t work here, remember?”
“Touché.” He smiled, leaning back into his seat and continuing to watch the pair as well. The familiarity breeding between the two headmasters was an interesting thing to behold, but not one that a woman interested in dating Scott Summers really wanted to witness.
Jean registered another pleasant smile as Scott rejoined her side of the island counter top, licking his fingers from a stolen wedge of pickle. “Well, as long as its school related, I guess I can’t complain if you’re planning on ditching us for your sisters.”
Almost apologetically, Ororo turned from the freezer where she was contemplating the low-fat ice cream. “Well, some other time, okay? I promise.”
As they agreed, getting their dishes ready for the wash before they left, Ororo suddenly looked at the pickles in her hand and the ice cream she was about to reach for, and nearly panicked. How much more obvious could she be??
Dismissing her craving, she pulled out the makings of a lean turkey sandwich to go with the pickle slices, forgetting about the ice cream.
As Scott and Jean headed out of the door, calling their goodbyes, she stopped briefly from slathering mayonnaise (which she normally hated) and waved them off. It was then she noted David was slow to follow them. Passing by her spread of meat, cheese and other condiments, he grinned at her before nodding toward the closed freezer door.
“Changed your mind about the ice cream, eh?”
Ororo couldn’t help the slightly startled look on her face but he didn’t notice it”he didn’t need to”as he left the room. Looking down at her half-finished meal, Ororo suddenly wasn’t very hungry.
TBC…
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