Disclaimer: Don’t own don’t sue. Nor do I own the lyrics to the song by Elbow, ‘Presuming Ed (Rest Easy)’. Also I’ve made a minor switch of one of the lyrics, changing ‘it’s’ to ‘he’s’, it’ll be obvious why.
Movieverse
Rated: U
A/N: In the deathfic ‘On the Breeze’ I introduced the character of James, Ororo and Logan’s son. This little piece of slush (lol!) is the story of the couple bonding with their newborn just after his birth. Pure saccharine fluff, but hey, you need a bit of that from time to time!! Enjoy, M’ikosan7, xx
‘Pale Blue Eyes’
‘You know that everything is finite,
You know, you too are not alone.
Sooth her brow, drink her smile,
Watch her dream.’
‘You feel Christ-like, when he’s breathing in and out.
You feel Christ-like, when he’s breathing in and out,
Right there on the pillow.’
‘This is why we are here,
Rest easy...’
‘Presuming Ed (Rest Easy)’ By Elbow.
*
Tiny....sooooo goddamn tiny, that’s all that Logan could think when he held him. He was so small that he almost fit into the palm of one hand. The child was so small that Logan was scared of holding his son too firmly lest he hurt him, but also frightened about dropping him if he didn’t hold the boy tight enough.
“Relax my love.” Ororo said softly, her voice meek with exhaustion.
Logan looked down at his wife; her face was flushed and the sweat clumped strands of her fringe still clung to her forehead, but he’d never seen her look so beautiful. He smiled at her and then gazed once more at his tiny son, almost whispering, “He’s damn so frail...it just feels like I could snap him if I’m not careful!”
Ororo chuckled quietly as her heavy eyelids closed; she was so tired that she couldn’t keep them open. “You’ll be fine,” she tried to stifle a yawn before continuing, “you won’t harm him.”
Noting the sign of exhaustion, he offered, “I’ll go darlin’, give you a chance ta get some rest.” Logan walked towards the clear plastic cot that ran along the side of Ororo’s bed, and went to put the baby down in it but Ororo protested.
“No, it’s alright, I want you to stay.” She smiled up at him with her eyes still firmly closed, her long dark lashes brushing the soft skin underneath.
“Well, if you’re sure?” He asked as he straightened up; moving his small son into the nook of his arm, Logan perched at the edge of the white sheeted bed at Ororo’s side so that he faced her.
With an exhausted sigh, Ororo managed to peel her eyes open to see a sight that for a long time she’d dreamed of, but never dared to think it would one day come true; her husband with their child in his arms. The baby was beginning to wriggle a bit now; one tiny arm, with its little fist balled, escaping out the top of thick white blanket that he was wrapped in. His hair was light, not quite white (though at present random patches of it were) but more of a dirty blonde that would probably darken as he got older and against the whiteness of the blanket his still wrinkled skin looked the colour of toasted cinnamon. As his freed arm flailed haphazardly, his high forehead furrowed and his little mouth opened wide; it was clear that cries were immanent. And when the weak wails started, Logan suddenly felt a little panicked again as he had the first time he’d taken his son into his arms.
“Urr---what do I do?” He asked, shifting slightly uncomfortably.
“Just rock him gently---that’s it. He’ll be fine.” After a few moments the feeble newborn cries stopped. “Who’d have thought it?” She chuckled dulcetly.
“What?”
“The big, bad Wolverine, worried by an hour old baby!”
“Yeah, well.” He said, laughing off the fondly toned jibe, “I’ve never done this kinda thing before.” He couldn’t be one hundred percent certain that that statement was completely true but somehow it felt like it. An experience as glorious as this would have stayed with him in some form or another. But no, the child that Logan held in his arms now was his first born---he was certain.
As the boy’s arm continued to wave about wildly, Logan brought his left hand to it, just above by a millimetre or two, extending just his index finger and immediately the baby grabbed onto it. He held it with a grip that seemed impossibly firm for a newborn; his five chubby digits only just managing to close around his father’s thick finger. Logan’s heart leapt and his breath caught in his throat. But just when he thought that he couldn’t be amazed any further, the baby’s eyelids started to flutter and for the very first time, he opened his eyes.
“‘Ro! Look!” He called in a delighted whispered not often heard from him, as he shifted further onto the bed, bringing his arm down so that Ororo could get a proper look. She gathered enough energy to push herself up with her forearms, leaning her back against the puffed-up pillows of the hospital bay bed. Now that she was in a more comfortable position, she held her arms out for Logan to pass her son to her. Leaning over he did just that, placing him carefully in his wife’s waiting arms. Then he turned around; getting onto the bed properly, putting his right arm around Ororo’s shoulder. They both looked down at their son as he made that final effort and peeled his diminutive eyelids open to reveal to beautiful, sapphire-like blue eyes. Their gem quality was perfect in everyway and the couple were not just surprised but also delighted at what they saw---especially Ororo.
“God...could he be anymore perfect?” Logan asked rhetorically as he gazed in wonder. But then, observing his from an awkward high angle over her shoulder, he noticed a tear running down over her high cheekbone. “What’s the matter, beautiful?” He asked as he reached up and wiped the droplet away with his thumb.
She shook her head and smiled. “My mother’s eyes were blue, the exact same blue---he has my mother’s eyes.”
Logan remember now, when Ororo had showed him the only photo that she had of her; not only did she have the pale hair that seemed to run in the family but she’d had the most amazing blue eyes also. Squeezing his arm tighter around her, he planted a kiss on top of her head.With a touch of regret, at this pivitol moment in his life his thoughts turned to his own parents, what they looked like, the type of people they might have been. But these were things he'd probably never know and this wasn't a time for brooding over such matters...
And so, they sat there in silence for a while, this new family, together against all the odds. In this tranquil moment, Logan had time to ponder over how Ororo’s whole essence had altered, not just since she’d become pregnant but it had changed once again, now that she’d given birth. Her very being had gained a different overtone; it wasn't so much a change to her sandlewood scent, it wasn't as peripheral as that it was something so rooted in his fine-tuned connection to nature. It something so much at her core that it was almost like mother and son were one, for it was the essence he had sensed from his son that had now combined with his wife... He closed his hazel and green flecked eyes briefly, taking the enormity of it all in. Ororo didn’t need to ask why he was doing it; instinctively she knew and it made her feel safe. From now on, no matter what happened, Logan would be there, for both of them.
After the time ticked by and the evening sun flooded through the window, bathing the room in a subtle orange glow, they settled into a contented kind of bliss. For a moment Logan could hear murrmured whispers at the other side of the sliding hospital bay door. He could hear clearly that it was Jean talking to the Professor. Perfectly aware that she was about to come in and usher him out like a preening hen, though only because she cared and wanted Ororo to rest, Logan said, “Right darlin’, I’ll go now.” He leant forwards and kissed her softly on her cheek, but just as he was about to climb down from the bed, Ororo put her hand on his arm to stop him.
“Wait, before you go, there’s just one more thing.”
“What?”
“We have to give him a name.” She looked back at him over her shoulder, “Any ideas?”
“I thought we’d already agreed on names.” He complained playfully because he knew full well she’d have changed her mind by the time the baby was born.
“I know, it’s just---he doesn’t look like a Sol to me.” She said as she ran her finger along the gap between the thick woollen blanket and his chubby cheek. “How about---Dalle.”
“Dalle?” He repeated with a barely contained laugh. “What kinda name is ‘Dalle’?!”
“Fine!” With a playful tap on his chest, before she challenged her husband, “you think of something then!”
For a moment, Logan thought about it, reaching down and placed his rough hand over the top of Ororo’s that now laid lightly on top of the baby’s blanket. Threading his fingers through her slim ones, he locked their hands together. As he absently rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb, the name that had been swimming around in the back of his head for perhaps months, came to the fore. He didn’t know where it came from, or why it was so insistent in his mind but looking at his son, the name was just...right.
“James.”
Logan had said it most assuredly and so definitely that immediately, Ororo knew that it was the right name for their little boy. “Yes---James. James Munroe Logan...perfect.”
“Yep...just perfect darlin’.” He smiled as he watched little James fall into the contented slumber of a babe, those crystal blue eyes fluttering closed and at this moment in time Logan realised that he’d never felt so happy. For so long he’d lived with a large chunk of himself missing; an aching, gaping black hole that he never thought would be filled. But over the past year, their marriage and now the birth of their first child were pretty damn close to filling that hole. In fact, they’d stuffed it to overflowing. Too many of his years had been spent trying to find a life he didn't know anything about, but now, he no longer had the need to, because he'd found his own chunk of paradise right here. Holding this tiny life made the struggle to find THIS life all the more worth it.
Their circumstances and the lives they led may have been extraordinary by any stretch of the imagination but right now, Ororo and Logan were just like any other couple, in any other country, on any other continent. The differences no longer seemed of paramount importance. Both thought of all the trials and tribulations they’d gone through, the hoops life had made them jump through, the obstacles put in their paths but all they could hope was that their son would grow up in something better and as X-Men, they’d certainly be around to make certain that it was so.
Gradually Logan became aware of the soft rhythmic flow of Ororo's breathing; her well deserved sleep taking her into its craddling arms at last. Slipping deftly off the bed, taking great pains not to disturb them, he leant in once more to plant soft careful kisses on the forehead of both his wife and son. With one more contented glance at them before he went through the door, he then left them to their slumber in the basking glow of the sun's final radiance...
~The End~
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