Disclaimer: same as before!
chapter three……
“Professor!” Ororo exclaimed as she burst through the office door. “Oh,
Scott----I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to----“ The two men looked up at Ororo
in surprise at the unexpected intrusion. Even more shocked to see that she
was on the verge of tears.
“It’s O.K Ororo dear, please come in and sit.” Charles manoeuvred himself
around his desk and next to the chair he wished her to take.
“I’ll go now Professor. I’m sure you’ve got lots to talk about.” As Scott
exited the room, he laid his hand on Ororo’s shoulder and squeezed
comfortingly. “You know, whatever the problem is----I’m here for you. Jean
too.”
“Thank-you Scott.” She gave him a small nod in acknowledgement of his kind
offer. Then Scott left the two to talk, closing the door quietly behind
him.
As soon as the doors catch clicked shut Ororo moved quickly over to the
leather, padded chair. Sitting down heavily she suddenly burst into tears,
burying her head in her hands.
“Oh Charles!” She sobbed.
Xavier moved his chair closer and ran his hand down her long, soft hair.
“It’s O. K my child. It’s O.K.”
Just the sound of his voice helped to calm her greatly. She lifted her
head from her hands and promptly threw her arms around Xavier’s neck Tears
cascaded down her face as she kneeled at the side of the Professor’s
wheelchair.
The action elicited a gasp of shock from Charles, he wasn’t used to such
unexpected behaviour from his normally calm and reserved Windrider. A
quick glance out of the window at the gradually increasing winds told him
that the weather wasn’t either.
“She’s really here!” Ororo cried through joyous laughter, but her face was
grimaced through what seemed to be unbearable pain. “Charles, she’s really
here! She’s come back to me!”
Still with her arms around the Professor Ororo brought her hand up to
cover her face as she continued to sob and outside it started to rain.
“I’m happy for you my dear, I truly am.” He returned her embrace lovingly.
At the back of his mind he’d always knew that there was a possibility that
this day would come and he knew that Ororo would need to lean on him more
than anyone else. Maybe she’d even need him more than she needed Logan.
After all he was the only one who truly knew the pain that she had gone
through and at this moment he couldn’t have felt more like her father.
After a minute or so Ororo lifted her head, she’d stopped crying now. The
rain had stopped too but the wind remained persistent, blowing in dark
clouds to shade the once bright sun.
Wiping her tears away with the sleeves of her cardigan, she sat back down
in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. In fact she appeared almost
embarrassed by her untoward display.
“What do I tell her Charles?-----How can I even begin to explain?” Her
voice was slightly gravelly from the tears, so she cleared her throat.
Xavier reached over to Ororo and gently pried her hands apart, then he
took them in his, giving them a tender squeeze.
“You will tell her what she needs to know and what you feel comfortable
with her knowing. At the end of the day my dear, it’s up to you.”
She wiped again at her face before saying, “But how can I?” Her eyes were
searching as she looked at the Professor, as if she expected him to
provide her with the answer.
“You will find a way.” He reassured her. “You have a strength in you that
you are unaware of. You will find a way.”
She smiled at him and nodded though her eyes still held a definite
sadness. She didn’t appear too convinced by the Professor’s faith in her.
“Where is she now?” He asked as he released her hands and sat up in his
chair.
“I left her in the Rec room. She had cried herself to sleep. I think she
was exhausted.”
“Right, well I’ll get Rogue or Bobby to make up one of the guest rooms and
we can move her up there.”
Ororo nodded in agreement as she took the jug of water that Xavier kept on
his large desk and poured herself a glass. Her throat had suddenly become
dry and she was finding it hard to swallow. The tumbler clattered against
her teeth as she tried to take a sip, a small uncontrollable tremor
affecting her right hand. So she was forced to clasp the glass with both
hands to steady it.
“By the way my dear, what did they name her?” Xavier took her hand in his
once more as he asked her.
An almost wistful smile came to her lips and a look of tenderness washed
the sadness for her eyes. Then she said quietly, “Catherine.”
* * *
Ororo perched herself on the edge of the bed that Catherine was now laid
in.
After leaving Xavier’s office she had returned to the Rec room to collect
her. Waking her from the deep sleep that she had fallen into had not been
easy. She probably hadn’t slept in days by the look of her and who knows
how she hadn’t gotten there.
When they’d arrived at the guest room they’d entered to find Marie and
Bobby just finishing tucking in the fresh sheets.
They’d asked no questions, to Ororo’s internal relief, leaving as soon as
the task Xavier had asked of them was complete.
After a lengthy shower and a change of clothes, the others being taken
directly to the bin, Ororo had offered Catherine some food. She’d excepted
eagerly, sleep obviously wasn’t the only thing she’d been deprived of
recently.
And that’s where Ororo had just returned from, but as she came into the
room she noticed that Catherine was now sprawled out on the bed, once
again dead to the world.
Setting down the tray of food on the dresser top that sat just to the left
of the door. She crept as quietly as she could over to the bed. Slowly
prying the sheets from under the girl’s body, she pulled them over her and
then sat beside her sleeping form.
She gazed down at her now, smoothing back the still damp hair that was
plastered to her forehead. Evidently her hair was as difficult to dry as
her own.
Ororo couldn’t believe she was really here. She’d let that part of herself
go along time ago, she’d had to, just to survive. But here she was now, in
a peaceful slumber right next to her.
Ororo was lost in the moment but then she had a startling
thought,----Logan. What was she going to tell him?
Her brow furrowed as she considered her options, running one hand absently
through her hair. Would he understand? Understand why she’d never told him
about such a crucial part of her past? Could she even bear for him to
know?
“I need some fresh air.” She whispered to herself as she stood from the
bed. But as she made her way round to the door she tripped on something
protruding from underneath it. Only just about managing to catch herself
from falling by grabbing the edge of the bed she looked down to discover
what the object was.
It was an opaque, blue plastic bag that Catherine must have brought with
her, probably hidden under her coat.
Ororo bent down to pick it up but as she did the handle ripped, spilling
its contents onto the floor with a noisy clatter. Looking up quickly, she
was relieved to see the noise hadn’t disturbed her sleep.
Kneeling on the floor Ororo began to pick up the items one by one. There
was a small dark brown teddy bear that had just the one black beady eye
and was practically thread bare. She smiled as she turned it over in her
hands, absently examining it, then placing it back into the bag. Next was
a black covered, pocket size Bible, flicking through it quickly she noted
that it was written in Italian.
Various currencies in crumpled notes and battered coins had scattered
everywhere so she had to run her hands along the floor in order to scoop
them up. There was money from Egypt, Morocco, Spain, France and bizarrely,
or so Ororo thought, Serbia and Croatia too. But she didn’t have time to
ponder, she was sure she’d learn everything later.
The only thing left on the floor now was a punch of faded and dog-eared
papers that were tied together with a length of rough string. Retrieving
them from the ground she was about to place them with the other
possessions but something stopped her.
Fingering the string hesitantly, she looked up at Catherine once more
before giving into curiosity and pulling open the knot carefully.
The papers mainly consisted of newspaper cuttings, mentions of mutants,
the X-Men in particular. There was even a blurred picture in one of the
articles that had appeared in most newspapers all over the world about two
years ago. It was a picture of Storm that had been snapped by a stunned
bystander during a mission in Belgium. It wasn’t very clear at all, you
couldn’t really make out any great detail, just a black blur with a shock
of white following from it.
Despite the fact that the photo wasn’t exactly conclusive it had obviously
been enough to convince Catherine that she should come looking.
The last thing in the pile was a photograph. It had turned a sepia colour
through age and had been torn in two at some point, sticky tape held it
together now. In the picture were rows and rows of children, their age ranging from
around three to thirteen, fourteen. They were all dressed in the same
colours, grey pinafores and white shirts for the girls, grey shorts and
white shirts for the boys. On each side of the group were several
dour-looking nuns but despite this most of the children appeared genuinely
happy. But among all the jet black haired children in identical uniforms
one stood out, one little girl with a scruffy shoulder length crop of
bright white hair.
Ororo closed her eyes as she pressed the photo to her heart, for a second
she thought about holding onto it. But she knew she couldn’t, taking one
last glance at it she gathered all the papers back together again and tied
them with the string.
Just as she was about to put them back in the bag there was a soft but
firm knock at the door.
“Ororo?” It was Logan.
She quickly pushed the bag back under the bed and started for the door,
calling as loud as she dared, “O. K, I’m coming.”
Logan took that as ‘don’t come in’, so he waited for her to come out the
room. After a moment or two she did just that, closing the door quietly
behind her but not locking it this time.
Immediately Ororo went to Logan, slipping her arms around his waist and
resting her cheek on his chest.
“Hey, you O. K?” He asked, returning the embrace.
She nodded against his chest before pulling her head back to look up at
him, “I’m fine my love. I think it’s time we had a talk.”
She pulled away from him, somewhat reluctantly, and started down the
corridor, Logan following close behind.
* * *
Ororo had led Logan up to their attic bedroom to talk, away from prying
eyes and eager ears. The whole mansion was probably buzzing with gossip
already, which was always the case when somebody new arrived.
Ororo sat in her reading chair by the balcony door, motioning at the chair
opposite but Logan shook his head. He preferred to stand, he always did
when he was agitated, it made him restless. Whatever ‘Ro was about to tell
him, he felt certain he wasn’t going to like it.
She said nothing for a moment, she just watched, slightly bemused as Logan
began to pace, slowly back and forth.
“Logan please, will you stop that.” She said with a small laugh.
“Sorry darlin’.” He eventually took the chair.
She sighed softly before beginning, “This isn’t easy for me Logan. Her
turning up out of the blue like this has dragged all sorts of----feelings
and memories----memories I’d long locked away.”
Logan was about to interrupt but Ororo raised her hand to halt him.
“Please, just let me finish. Let me explain as much as I can. But you must
understand that I can’t tell you absolutely everything just yet. It would
be unfair on Catherine if I told you before I told her.”
“Catherine.” Logan repeated the name quietly to himself, as if in
conformation.
“I don’t want you to be angry with me for never having told you all this.”
Those words instantly made Logan’s features darken, his face becoming much
more stern than usual. “But you must understand that I had my reasons.”
Ororo turned her head to the window and gazed out at the sky that had
finally become blue once more.
“You already know about my parents----how I lost them in the attack on our
village.” She brought one suddenly trembling hand up to rest on her mouth
briefly. It was so very hard for her to talk about this. Not just the loss
of her parents, but the other memories that it brought with it. Being
buried alive for days on end------surrounded by the decaying corpses of
her tribes folk----.
She shut her eyes to try, in vain, to block the horrifying images that
flooded her mind. Taking a deep breath she tried to continue.
“It wasn’t just my parents I lost that day.-----I lost so much more-----.”
Her voice more or less trailed off as she opened her eyes and turned to
face Logan. His expression hadn’t changed much, save for the vague look of
confusion that was now creeping in.
“Is she who I think she is?” He asked, trying to stay as neutral as
possible, but it was hard. His gut tensed as he prepared to hear an answer
he’d been dreading.
“Please Logan, just listen.” She implored softly. “I lost my sister that
day also---- or so I thought.”
Logan shook his head a little, “What?” It hadn’t been as bad as the answer
he’d been expecting, but still----a sister! Why had she never told him?
“The girl----Catherine, she’s your sister?” He stood swiftly from the
chair and took a few steps back into the main space of the room. He
scratched at the back of his head absently as he tried to take all this
in.
“No.” Ororo started quietly.
Logan’s gaze shot back down to his wife who was still looking up at him,
seemingly back to being calm as ever.
“Then what?” He said, a little harsher than he’d intended to.
Holding her gaze with his she replied softly, with a hint of a smile
playing on her lips, “Catherine is my niece.”
-TBC-
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