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Chapter Twelve: Paradise Lost


Logan inhaled deeply from his cigar, watching the throngs of people on the dance floor of the smoky club the X-Men had decided on.

Decided on was not the right word, exactly. Kitty and Rogue and cajoled, coerced and otherwise begged for Logan’s celebratory evening to take place in the “hottest” new club in town. The adults, of course, had been slightly less than amused by the suggestion, but they were all slaves to the will of their young friends.

The “party” was in honor of Logan’s appointment as Physical Education/Combat Training instructor as well as a sort of going away for Kitty, whom was due to leave Xavier’s school on Tuesday. He watched her now, with Peter, dancing to the irritating electronic throb called music blaring from dozens of speakers.

Ororo was on the dance floor as well, much to Logan’s displeasure. Scott had his hands in a rather innocent place, and still he wanted to rip the bastard’s throat out. Jean sat across from him at the table, smiling sweetly as her fiancée rubbed up against Logan’s girl.

When did she become my girl?, he thought with an inward frown.

Rogue and Bobby were among the dancers as well, laughing and having a good time with their friends. Occasionally, one of the younger boys would steal Storm from Scott, making her laugh loudly as they fought over her.

“Another drink, Logan?” Jean asked as the waitress approached them.

He shook his head, pinching the cigar between his teeth. “Nah. Waste of perfectly good liquor.”

Jean smirked, touching the waitress’ arm. “He’ll have a beer, another Greygoose Martini, a Scotch on the rocks, and a white wine spritzer should do it. Thank you.”

Logan gave Jean a half-scowl, nodding to the empty glasses as the tight-skirt wearing waitress moved on, giving him a rather smoldering look. He almost laughed in her face before speaking to his companion.

“Don’t think ‘Ro and One-Eye have had enough?” he indicated to the two on the dance floor.

The red haired telepath laughed, shaking her head. “Not at all. So long as the weather’s holding up, Ororo is just fine and Scott isn’t falling over yet.”

Logan grunted, turning his eyes to Ororo. She was looking at him, her eyes betraying her true thoughts…things that she promised him silently. He grinned in response, knowing it would be an enthusiastic evening when they returned home. His need to reclaim and Ororo’s responsive nature would make things noisy indeed. Logan tipped his cigar to her.

It had been nearly two weeks since that first night in her arms. They were careful around the others, never touching for longer than was polite, words friendly, but not personal. All of that was tucked away for the quiet hours of dark, where they were free to be themselves.

His nightmares had not vanished though they had ebbed slightly. Ororo’s comforting scent and reassuring touches always woke him before he could get into the meat of desperate cries. She would fold him into her embrace, the soothing beat of her heart lulling him back to sleep.

On the third night together, Logan had to calm her nightmares. He had awoken to her frantic whimpering and breathy whispers of fear. The wind had howled for her, making his blood run cold. What disturbed her so in sleep? Before him, had she woken this way, crying into the night, aching for someone to ease her pain?

That night, he had asked her about the time in his bedroom, when she had been afraid of looking at him. She confessed in her timid whisper that he had spoken that night, begging for someone to stay with him, yelling for an evil to release her. Surprised, he remembered that nightmare the moment she confessed. A long dark hall, a light at the end of the tunnel, the deep-rooted fear that the darkness would consume him had come rushing back to him.

He was still puzzling the part about ‘Ro out. Something told him she had not been present, merely represented. The light, perhaps? That bright light had beckoned to him, but someone was taking it.

Shaking his head, he took the fresh beer the waitress brought him with a silent nod, tipping it back eagerly. Tight-skirt Waitress batted her heavily made-up eyelashes at him, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Logan tilted his head, then gave her a feral grin, flashing her a mouthful of sharp teeth. “You ain’t woman enough to handle me, girl.”

He heard Jean snort into her drink as the offended, and perhaps even frightened, girl moved on, tossing him a dirty look. Pleased with himself, Logan waggled his eyebrows at Jean.

“Could have been fun though.”

She laughed heartily at this. “I wouldn’t let Storm hear that, your skeleton might make too good an electric conductor.”

Uncomfortable discussing his…relationship with Storm with Jean, he looked away. It was current gossip all over the mansion as of late, but that did not make it all right for anyone to bring it up. Jean was only allowed because he knew for a fact that Ororo told her more than anyone else.

“She might,” he agreed curtly.

“Come on, Logan. I’m not trying to pry here. I think it’s great, actually,” she smiled kindly at him. “I’ve never seen so many cloudless summer days in all the years I’ve known her.”

He had to hide a smirk at that. Even Henry had begun complaining that his tomato crop was dying in the suddenly perfect weather, no matter what the forecast said. He’d have to talk to Ororo about letting a little rain in every now and then.

Learning the weather patterns in regards to her moods was helpful. Many men had to guess at their lover’s mood, but all Logan had to do was look outside, most days. Though Ororo kept herself in check, he knew she was happy by the utter lack of anything resembling bad weather near the mansion. Tears and sadness came with rain, anger with lightning, fear with thunder, and “ to his amazement “ howling wind screamed passion.

That one he was extremely familiar with.

“And I’ve never seen you so relaxed,” Jean continued, sipping her white wine thing she dared call a drink.

“Jeanie, I don’t want to be rude, but shut up,” he smiled quickly. “Not right now, ok?”

She nodded, winking at him. “I’m here, if either of you need anything.”

“Not another word, Red, I’m warning you,” Logan countered.

“Ooh. Storm! Logan’s being mean!” she called in a sing-song voice, though there was no way she could have been heard over the music.

He chuckled a bit, just as he wound up with his arms full of Kitty. The girl was hysterical and Bobby not much better.

“I’m s-sorry, Wolverine,” she gasped, trying to right herself. “I tripped.”

“S’alright,” he said, holding his cigar away from her hair so it wouldn’t burn. “What’s wrong with you two?”

Bobby grinned, downing his soda quickly. “Rogue scared the crap out of Peter. He forgot that her new body stocking is almost clear and she touched his face.”

Kitty laughed harder, on her own feet at last, gripping the table. “You had to be there,” she gasped.

Jean giggled girlishly opposite of Logan, whom dismissed the entire thing with a sigh. Kids. He was surrounded by kids.

Bobby and Kitty took their seats, breathing hard as they swayed to the music. Jean was still watching Scott and Ororo, whom seemed to be talking while dancing. Judging from the look on Storm’s face, she was incredibly amused by whatever he was saying.

“Hey is that…” Bobby’s voice brought Logan from his careful study of Ororo’s legs in her slinky black trousers and bare belly.

“Who?”

It was then that Logan detected a familiar voice, tinged with fear. A sniff of the air told him Rogue was nearby, though he couldn’t see her. Casting a glance to Jean, Logan stood, joined by Bobby a moment later.

“Let me go! Ah mean it!” Rogue was saying, her voice muffled by music and random conversation.

Iceman gripped Logan’s arm, pointing across the dance floor. “Logan, it’s John. Pyro.”

Following the kid’s gaze, Logan growled menacingly, fists clenching. Pyro had Rogue against him on the dance floor, rubbing against her eagerly as the girl tried to escape. Peter was no where to be found.

“Jean?” Logan asked, knowing the response was going to be bad.

“We’ve got company, Logan. Pyro, Mystique, and at least two others I don’t know,” she replied, standing as well.

“Damn. Kitty, Bobby, go get Storm and Cyclops, try not to draw attention. Pyro doesn’t know we’ve seen him. Go!” Logan ordered quickly, watching the kids meet in front of him, then dance into the crowd.

He’d lost sight of Scott and Ororo at some point. Pyro still had his hands on Rogue and she was looking around desperately, as though waiting for someone to come to her rescue. Logan started over, Jean at his side, not releasing his claws. Hopefully, they could get out of this without a fight. There were too many innocent people around to start throwing mutations around.

No sooner had he thought that statement, he felt an oddly familiar hand on his arm, coupled with a disgustingly acidic scent.

Mystique.

He turned, swinging his adamantium-laced fist as hard as he could. A thundering cry of rage greeted his punch as the naked blue mutant dodged him, leaping toward him, eyes filled with murder.

Jean was ready for her, catching the woman in midair before throwing her across the dance floor. Mystique’s body slammed into the wall with a sickening thud and she lay still. Wolverine raised a brow.

“That was for the little stunt with Cerebro,” Phoenix explained, her entire body taking on a glow.

Wolverine nodded. “Ok.”

Snikt!

Claws released as the crowd of humans screamed, rushing for the entrance. Jean, wreathed in flame, took to the air, hovering above the crowd and attempting to locate their friends.

“Wolverine! I can’t see Storm, but Scott has Pyro. Rogue and Colossus are with him,” the Phoenix said from her perch. He’d have to ask her about that someday.

“Iceman and Shadowcat?”

“There!” she pointed. “They’ve got something on them…what the hell?”

Surprised to hear Jean cursing, Logan bolted in the direction she had indicated. He dodged people as best he could, ensuring he did not injure them in his pursuit. The club hoppers were quickly thinning, allowing Wolverine to spot his younger friends.

He pulled up short, blinking rapidly. There was a strange silver ring around a very confused Iceman and Shadowcat. Wolverine attempted to follow the blur, only succeeding in making himself dizzy. It had to be a person…something.

“Iceman! Stop that damn thing!” Wolverine yelled over the din of pounding feet and horrified screams.

“I don’t think so, Wolverine,” a sultry female voice said from behind him. “Quicksilver is taking care of the baby X’s.”

Turning slowly, Wolverine moved into a crouch, noting a pretty young girl standing behind him as though she was a queen. Her red hair fell down her back in waves, her eyes glinting with hatred.

“You know my name, girlie, but I don’t know yours,” he growled, moving around her, testing her, wondering what kind of mutation he would have to battle.

“Scarlet Witch,” she intoned regally. “Remember it…”

Her hand lashed out at him, releasing some kind of power he could not see. Wolverine dodged it easily. A line of flame shot behind the girl, and Wolverine watched Cyclops fall into a table, splintering it easily.

With a feral snarl, Wolverine advanced on Scarlet Witch, only to be hit by something directly in the chest.

Electricity ripped through him, the pain filtering into every one of his limbs. He groaned through the pain, attempting to move as the bolt of whatever she’d hit him with continued to wrack through his body, no matter how fast he healed.

She smirked at him. The twist of her lips was cold, methodical, as though she were an empty shell. It sent a chill up Wolverine’s spine. This woman was not full of rage or contempt, she was simply…there. He tried to stand again, looking about for his teammates.

An eerie metallic sound appeared out of nowhere, heralding the arrival of Colossus. The girl had no chance to counter him. He simply walked up behind her, grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off of her feet. She struggled even as the enormous metal man hit the top of her head carefully, knocking her out cold. Colossus tossed her aside simply, as he would a rag doll, taking a step to his teammate.

The vice of pain left Wolverine a moment later and he struggled to sit up. He started as a sheet of ice covered the floor, coupled with a long, lanky body slipping over it. Once on his feet, Wolverine spotted Shadowcat coming up from the floor. She kicked the surprised “Quicksilver” directly in the mouth with a stunning roundhouse. He faltered, leaving Kitty the perfect opening for a killer right hook.

The boy, too, was out cold.

“What the hell was that?” Wolverine and Iceman said at once, staring at one another.

“Scarlet Witch.”

“Quicksilver.”

Shrugging at their sudden knack for speaking at the same time, they turned, searching for the others.

Phoenix had Pyro cornered, Cyclops had managed to get to his feet and Rogue was behind Colossus, but there was no sign of Storm anywhere. Panicking a little, Logan tested the air, hoping to find her scent amid the plethora of others wafting through the now deserted nightclub.

“Enough!”

The booming voice of Magneto rang through the ruckus, halting even the staggering Mystique as she tried to stand. Wolverine slid his claws back into place, standing in front of Iceman and Shadowcat, flanked by Cyclops and Colossus, who pushed Rogue behind him protectively.

A low hum accompanied the leader of the Brotherhood as he descended from the gaping roof of the club, his scarlet and black cloak fluttering in a non-existent breeze. He looked ridiculous, but Logan thought now wasn’t the time to say that.

He had to find Storm.

Magneto turned to Phoenix, whom held a startled Pyro aloft. Unafraid, she glared right back at their nemesis. The older mutant, shook his head at her.

“Jean Grey, back from the dead and still intent on fighting the good fight,” he sighed. “Release Pyro.”

“No,” Phoneix shot back.

“Release him or I will kill your weather witch,” Magneto returned with a flippant gesture.

Wolverine swallowed a cry of horror when he heard a distinct scream. Magneto displayed a round, metallic chamber, obviously stripped from a nearby wall. Inside it, Logan could hear a terrified scream, coupled with agonized sobbing. It was Storm.

He felt a hand on his arm, holding him back. Colossus.

“Stay back. Rushing now will not save her.”

Not willing to risk losing Ororo, Logan kept himself in check, his eyes darting to Jean. The red haired Phoenix dropped Pyro instantly, her eyes wide with horror.

“Please…you don’t understand,” she choked, lowering herself to the ground.

“Understand what?” Magneto questioned menacingly, whipping the metallic prison around in a tight circle.

“I let him go! Please! Let her out!” Jean screamed, her eyes wet with tears.

Magneto flicked his hand, tossing the chamber directly at Jean. The Phoenix covered herself quickly with that stunning wreath of flame, falling back as she was slammed into the wall.

Cyclops screamed with fury, only to be stopped by Iceman. Their leader slipped on a stream of ice, falling directly into Colossus’ waiting arms.

The evil mutants gathered beside their leader, smirking at them all. Wolverine almost stepped forward to slice them all to pieces. Only Storm’s screams halted his murderous rage. Before he could do anything about them, he had to get to her.

“I did not intend for them to fight you here,” Magneto was saying. “I stopped this only because they have work to do. You will not be spared next time.”

With that, Magneto waved a hand, a magnetic field sending every X-Man flying backward, into the wall. Logan’s adamantium filled body struck the hardest, cracking the wall and throwing debris all over.

When they managed to stand, the Brotherhood was gone.

“Storm?” Wolverine darted across the decimated dance floor. “Jean?”

A cough. Before he could reach the metal chamber Magneto had manipulated to contain Ororo, he watched it shiver then rise as Jean stood from her place beneath it. Surprised, Logan felt his eyes go wide.

“I shielded myself. Can you open this thing?” she said impatiently, settling the chamber on the floor gently.

There was a ringing silence in place of Storm’s screams. Not knowing what on earth was going on, Logan shook his head.

“I might hit her. Kitty!”

The girl was already moving toward them at a run. Wolverine watched with an odd sort of fascination as she closed her eyes, hands extended and pushed herself into the chamber. Waiting with bated breath, the entire team watched the hunk of metal expectantly, even as sirens wailed in the distance.

Kitty emerged a moment later, her arms around a limp Ororo. “I can’t get her to talk!”

Aware that they would soon be facing a horde of police, Logan scooped his lover into his arms and nodded to the far wall. Colossus trotted to the thick stone, even as Iceman raised a hand to freeze it over.

Seconds later, the two had fashioned them an escape. Just as the police careened into the parking lot, two cars sped into the night, heading back to their haven in Westchester.

~@~

Storm lay on Logan’s bed, her arms around his pillow, tears accompanying the rain that fell in a steady beat outside. It had taken the combined forces of Chuck and Jean to draw Ororo from her hiding place within her mind. She had screamed, releasing a violent storm over the entire mansion before Hank managed to sedate her.

Once she woke, she burst into tears, calling for him. Having not left the infirmary since their arrival, he soothed her as best he could, though he did not understand what had happened to her.

The others left Ororo in his care once Hank declared she was able to leave the infirmary. Logan had helped her back into the mansion, glaring at anyone that approached. For some reason, Storm had completely flipped out and until he knew why, he was not going to let her out of his sight or allow anyone to speak with her.

She had been silent for a while, watching him move around his bedroom. He changed into pajamas, offering her one of his long, flannel shirts to wear in lieu of her clubbing gear. Pouting, she had sat up, holding her arms out to him. Worried, Logan had changed her clothes for her, leaving her bare beneath his shirt and adding socks, though he was fully aware of her immunity to cold.

One of the perks of knowing Ororo intimately was the nuggets of information he could retain about her. She liked socks, so he made sure she had some.

He sat now on the floor beside his bed, laying his head on the edge so he could watch her. Ororo had frozen when he’d tried to settle behind her, so he’d just let it lie, sitting as close as he could without her panicking.

Every salty tear that traveled down her cheek cut him deeply. With every tear, he vowed to murder Magneto if it was the last thing he ever did. Entertaining thoughts of keeping him alive for weeks to draw it out made him want to smirk.

“I was looking for Peter,” she said suddenly, her usually strong voice wavering. “I could not find him immediately and ducked into the restrooms, hoping to find him there. I heard explosions and screaming, but when I tried to leave the restroom, I ran into Magneto.”

Logan reached up, taking her hand, which held the pillow like a vice. “I’m here, ‘Ro. Go on.”

She inhaled shakily, releasing it a few seconds later. “He asked what I was doing all alone…and then…the darkness. It was so small…”

“Shh, it’s all right, darlin’,” he whispered, the last piece of his puzzle falling into place. “Claustrophobic?”

She nodded, gripping his hand tightly. “Y-Yes. Severely, as a matter of fact. I have battled it…all my life.”

Sympathy flooded his heart. No wonder she didn’t want him too close. After being locked in Magneto’s steel prison, she wouldn’t want anything too small for a good while. He scooted a bit closer to the bed, kissing her hand gently.

“I didn’t know that, ‘Ro. All I could hear was you screamin’ an’ it tore my heart out,” he said quietly.

Ororo smiled warmly at him. “I am sorry I worried you.”

“No,” he growled. “Don’t be sorry. It’s that bastard Magneto who’s gonna be sorry. First Rogue, now you. He’s askin’ for a guttin’.”

Storm bit her lip, fighting a grin. He kissed her nose gently, his heart still screaming murder for anyone that made Ororo cry. She inched further on the edge of the bed, touching her forehead to his.

“I was a little girl when it started,” she whispered, her tone filled with sorrow. “My father was a photojournalist and we went to Cairo for an assignment of his.”

He squeezed her hand, letting her know it was all right to continue. Logan wanted to know these things about her, to understand her. Protect her. He knew things now, but the only time she had spoken about her life before the X-Men was when he had asked about her time as a “goddess”.

“Egypt was in the middle of war,” Ororo went on, wincing as though the very memory hurt her physically. “An airplane was deflected by anti-missile weaponry and it crashed into our apartment building.”

“Good God,” Logan clamped his mouth closed, not wanting to interrupt her.

“The building shook so violently,” his lover choked a bit. “Mama tried to protect me from the rubble, and Papa tried to find a good place to hide. But the building came down around our ears. Mama managed to get me out of the way of the falling ceiling, but I was trapped.”
“It was so quiet,” Ororo inhaled sharply. “Mama and Papa were only a few feet from me and they were alive for a time. Mama reached to me with her last breath and my father cried openly, even through his pain. He died a short time later, his last words were my mother’s name…and mine.”

His heart was aching. This had to be the most painful thing he had ever heard anyone tell him. Watching her parents die, as a little girl, with tons of rubble trapping her with their bodies. He wanted to vomit.

“It took them hours to find me. I was stuck under a piece of ceiling and the wall. It was so small…all I could do was stare at my parents’ bodies as the walls seemed to close in around me,” she sighed deeply. “From then on, I was terrified of being trapped.”

“I can see why,” Logan said quietly, renewing his vow to gut Magneto like a fish. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Her lovely lips curved into a small smile. Logan noted the rain outside was subsiding, telling him Ororo was coming back from her terrified state.

“When? Logan, we have been wrapped up in one another,” she whispered. “We have not even noticed that Jean has not been sleeping and Scott is coming apart at the seams. Peter is retreating into a hole because Kitty is leaving, before they could even explore what they have to offer one another. When is the last time you sat down and talked with Rogue?”

He scowled. Just like her. She comes out of a horrible experience, cries for hours, tells him a heartbreaking story about her childhood and then comes up with a list of problems everyone else is having.

“We can worry about them tomorrow, darlin’,” he grunted, sliding his hand to her back, rubbing her gently. “Right now, I want you to get some sleep.”

Ororo’s smile was sleepy, as though his words had triggered her exhaustion. He reached over her slender form, grabbing the blankets and tucking her in, mentally laughing at himself. He couldn’t help it, not when she seemed so fragile and afraid.

“Thank you, for taking care of me,” she murmured, snuggling further into his pillow.

“Anytime, darlin’,” he replied, kissing her hair gently.

He stayed there with her for a long while, watching as the light changed behind his curtains. Once he was certain she had fallen asleep, he ducked out of his bedroom, grabbing Bobby in the hall.

“Bobby?”

The half-asleep boy jumped in his skin, startling awake. “Yeah?”

“Do me a favor, go into my room, don’t touch anything and sit on the floor by my dresser. If Storm wakes up, call me. If she has a nightmare, call me. If she twitches in a way that looks strange…”

“Call you,” Bobby supplied easily. “Where are you going?”

Logan’s voice shifted into a growl. “Danger Room.”





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