Chapter Twenty-Two: Deafening Crash
“Keys!”
And she had the nerve to get on him about running away.
Scott tossed him a set of car keys as he turned, listening to the low whine of the white Mini’s engine as Ororo tore off into the night. When he caught her, she was going to get a piece of his mind. Several of them, in fact.
Catching the keys, he nodded as One-Eye pointed to the Mazda, opening the passenger side door and settling in the seat. The others merely looked on, most of them with worried expressions on their faces.
Logan’s eyes caught Jean’s. She was biting her lip, wringing her hands together as Rogue put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
“We’ll find her,” he grunted, opening the driver’s door.
He slipped into the seat, slamming the door and grumbling as he turned the keys in the ignition.
“She’s headed west,” Logan told his teammate. “Anythin’ she likes back that way?”
Scott nodded, pulling his seat belt on as Logan pushed the car out of the garage.
“Yeah, the campsite,” he offered, holding onto the “Oh Shit” handle “ Rogue’s fond term for them “ in reaction to Logan’s driving. “Don’t drive angry, man.”
“I’m not angry,” he replied as they passed the gates. “I’m pissed off.”
“Ok,” his companion stated with an audible gulp. “Don’t drive pissed off, then.”
Logan rolled his window down, one hand gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. “What the fuck is her problem?”
Scott didn’t respond for a moment as he flipped on the car’s GPS system. There was a palpable silence, which Logan grit his teeth through. He hadn’t known Storm as long as they all did, and obviously he was missing something.
“She doesn’t like to be caged,” the younger mutant said at last. “Being confined to the mansion is one thing, taking away missions is another.”
“So she takes off?”
“Last time she did something like this was years ago. She doesn’t normally walk out on the Professor,” Scott said, lingering on the end of his statement.
“What happened last time?”
“We found her six months later in New Orleans, Louisiana. She was a member of the Thieves Guild. She only came back when Jean went there and gave her the guilt trip of the century.”
Logan’s foot pressed the accelerator harder, shifting the Mazda again. It wasn’t as if they had enough to worry about. The Brotherhood, Magneto’s request for their help in that refugee camp, Mystique, and the Friends of Humanity were all closing in on them, converging like storm cells over the Atlantic.
Ororo was definitely getting a talking to when he caught up with her.
For half an hour, Scott and Logan searched to the west of the mansion. At first, Logan followed the sounds of her car’s engine, the faint trace of her scent on the air. As though she knew he was tracking her, she had accelerated out of his range.
Then, just as the GPS system on Ororo’s car was activated, telling them that something had gone wrong, Logan spotted tire marks skidding off into the woods.
He swerved the car, cold fear sinking into his stomach.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott shouted as the car lurched to a halt.
Without responding, Logan leaped out of the car, darting across the silent street, his heart pounding in his chest. He heard Scott scramble out of the Mazda, the door slamming behind him.
There was a trail of tire marks off of the road and into the sparsely wooded area surrounding the highway. Following the indentions of thin tires, Logan ran down the steep slope, crouching low to keep from falling.
“Ok, Slim?” he called over his shoulder, hoping his worst fear was not about to come true.
“Yeah! See anything?” came the response form just behind him.
“Not yet…”
Logan hit the bottom of the slope and took off at a run, his breath sounding loud in his own ears. Sniffing the air, he finally found a trace of rain, Ororo’s scent.
And blood.
“Hurry!” he yelled, bolting into the woods, keeping his eyes, ears and nose open.
He heard Scott’s steps from behind him. His nose told him that Ororo was close, and the scent of blood was almost overwhelming.
Just an accident, he prayed. Just an accident and she hit her head. Just an accident…
As he finished his thought, he caught the scent of burning anti-freeze and set eyes on the crushed tail end of Ororo’s car only a dozen yards from him. Her personalized plates were bent to the side, the “STORMY 1” broken in half.
She had hit a tree head on. Something didn’t ring true here. As he pushed his body faster, he reminded himself the Storm was trained in handling cars at high speeds, her reaction times were…
A familiar, bloodied hand was hanging out of the car door, which was slightly ajar.
“Ororo!”
Blood splattered the windshield and as Logan finally reached the car, he roared.
“NO!”
Ororo’s body was slumped in her seat, her head gashed open from hitting the steering wheel, deep red seeping into her white hair. Her light blue pajamas were soaked in blood, the necklace he’d given her reflected the dim light from her broken headlights.
Four large bullet holes oozed from her chest.
Logan yanked the door open as Scott reached them. He ripped the seat belt from her, tears stinging his eyes as he took her limp body into his arms, collapsing beside the car as he pulled her to his chest.
“Look!” he screamed brokenly to Scott. “Look what they did!”
He could hear Scott punch 911 into his cellular phone, but he couldn’t look away from Ororo’s ashen face. Something oozed onto his hand from her back. Another bullet wound. He pulled the hand away, staring at it in a sort of hollow shock.
“Look what they did to her!” he cried again, reaching into the destroyed car for one of the spare towels she always carried.
Pressing it to the wound in her back, he cradled her, rocking her lifeless body as sirens began to wail in the distance.
~@~
His hands were stained with her blood. He stared at them in the harsh lights of the Trauma Center at St. Mary’s Hospital, unable to think of anything but his love’s cold body in his arms, her shallow breathing.
Scott was beside him, completely silent as he had been since they arrived. It had taken a lot to get Logan to release Ororo’s body to the paramedics, but finally Scott was able to get through.
He’d been pushed into the Mazda as they sped off after the ambulance, which reached St. Mary’s at shortly after one in the morning. Logan knew, on some level, that Scott had called the Professor at home, telling him that Ororo had been shot.
Logan refused to think the word killed. Her necklace was in his hands as well, the bit of gold splattered with Ororo’s lifeblood. So much blood.
They had taken her directly into surgery and no one had been out yet to speak with them. The cops would be called, because of the accident and the gunshots. There would be questions.
Logan, let her go, they’re here to help.
Look! They did this to her! Look at this! God, no…’Ro, wake up, darlin’…
Logan, she needs a hospital…
‘Ro…no, please, God…don’t…
He shook the wayward memory from his thoughts, staring from his bloodied hands to the O.R. doorway where they’d taken her prone form. They had tubes and needles in her and that brought him to unpleasant memories that had nothing to do with the woman he loved.
The door flew open and Logan instantly smelled four familiar scents wafting toward him over the stench of Ororo’s blood. He could not look up, he could not say anything as Jean rushed into her fiancé’s arms, crying softly against his shoulder.
Rogue fell into the seat next to him and before he could order her to go away, she enveloped him in a warm hug, holding him tightly.
Giving in to the innocent scent of his “little sister”, he hugged her back, hands clenching around the tiny lightning bolt pendant. She was whispering to him, trying to soothe him, but there was nothing to soothe. He felt empty, devoid of even the beserker rage he had become accustomed to.
“What happened?”
Chuck was talking to Scott.
“On the surface, it looks like someone took advantage of a major car accident and decided to finish the job,” Scott replied quietly. “But I think someone caused the accident.”
“Yes, I agree,” Chuck’s voice caught with emotion. “She is an accomplished driver.”
“Have the doctors said anything?” Jean asked just as softly.
“Not yet. I’m down as next of kin, so they told me…it was bad, Jean.”
Everyone fell silent as Logan continued to hold on to Rogue. He could hear them all settle in the wide hallway, in chairs around him, but he could not get the image of Ororo’s body out of his mind.
Why had she taken off? Why couldn’t she just stay put? Why hadn’t he been able to catch her?
Hours ticked by and soon the pink stain of dawn filtered through the large Emergency Room doors. Other patients came in, some went home but they had no news of Ororo. Logan sat beside Rogue, her gloved hand clutching his.
Charles had confessed that the school was closed for the day. The children had learned of the accident, which is all they knew, and were moping about under Hank’s care. He had called only a few moments ago, asking for an update.
Jean hadn’t stopped crying. Scott hadn’t moved. Charles looked completely at a loss. Bobby had his head down, as though he were praying.
“Scott Summers?”
The entire group jumped in their seats.
Scott stood easily, taking the two strides to the elderly doctor. “That’s me.”
“You’re here as Ororo Munroe’s next of kin? I assume you’re Charles Xavier and Doctor Jean Grey?” he asked kindly.
“Yes,” the Professor nodded, rolling his wheelchair over as he indicated to the others. “They are close friends as well.”
The doctor nodded. “I’m Doctor Janus, I was the lead surgeon that worked on Miss Munroe.”
“How is she?” Scott demanded as Logan came up behind him, still holding Rogue’s hand.
“I’m afraid I have good news and bad news,” he said carefully. “Miss Munroe’s head injury required twenty stitches. She had a minor concussion and several cracked ribs from the accident.”
Logan swallowed. She was alive. They wouldn’t have stitched her up if she weren’t alive.
“She was incredibly lucky. Four of the bullet wounds were easy enough to repair. They hit no major organs. However, the fifth, which hit her in the back, was precariously close to her spinal cord.”
“Were you able to remove it?” Chuck broke in.
“Yes, and there does not seem to be any damage to her spinal cord,” he paused. “There is some swelling and she may have limited use of her legs for some time.”
“Prognosis?” Jean asked quickly.
“The next twenty-four hours will tell, Doctor Grey. She is still intubated from the surgery and she has not regained consciousness. This could be from the anesthetic or from her head wound.”
“Jean?” Logan broke in. “English?”
Jean nodded. “She has a tube in her throat to breathe for her, it’s fairly common with the extent of her injuries. Her brain was bruised and that could mean that while it’s healing, she’ll be in a coma.”
Logan tried to not notice how she choked on the last word.
“Jean…”
“At this point, Mr…”
“Logan,” all of them said at once.
“Mr. Logan,” the doctor looked at them all strangely. “Her chances for survival are very good, at least from where I sit. But it all hinges on when she wakes up.”
“Paralysis?”
“Only time will tell,” he replied, looking sorry to bear such bad news.
“When can we see her?” Scott asked. Logan noted tears in the younger man’s eyes.
“We’ll be moving her to the Intensive Care Unit in just a moment. You may see her before we get into the elevator and then, I’m afraid I can only allow one person upstairs with her,” he looked around at them all. “Brace yourselves, this will not be a pretty sight.”
The doctor excused himself back into the Operating Room, shaking Scott’s hand quickly. Jean touched Logan’s arm.
“Go up with her,” she said softly. “If what the doctor says is correct, she may be able to hear you.”
“You’re the doctor, shouldn’t you…”
Jean shook her head. “I want you to go. Sit with her, talk to her. We’ll see you in the morning, ok?”
Logan nodded as the OR doors opened. A young nurse smiled faintly as she pulled a long rolling bed out of the room.
Heart in his throat, Logan watched the bed appear slowly, his Ororo covered in white blankets. There were tubes and needles all over her and they had not washed the blood from her hair. Swallowing hard, he pushed past his friends and moved up to the bed as it stopped.
“God, ‘Ro…”
The others approached cautiously, each touching her hand or kissing her forehead. Her hands were cold, her lips blue around the tube taped to her face. She looked like something out of his nightmares and his heart broke for her.
“Logan will be heading up with her,” Jean told Doctor Janus.
“He isn’t marked as next of kin.”
“I know, but he is Ororo’s fiancée,” Jean lied smoothly, Logan fought to keep his face impassive. “She hasn’t had time to change her paperwork yet.”
Janus looked between Jean and Logan for a moment, finally sighing and nodding his head. “All right, sign this wavier then, Mr. Summers.”
Logan nodded a thanks and goodbye as Scott did the paperwork. The nurses began to roll Ororo away, beckoning him to follow with understanding smiles. He held her hand tightly, taking the other and placing her lightning bolt necklace over the hookup for her IV.
“That’s very pretty,” one nurse commented as they entered the elevator.
“Yeah,” Logan replied. “Some birthday this turned out to be.”
~@~
“The police said there were tire marks that ran right into Storm’s car,” Scott was saying over the phone. “They matched a stolen SUV, which was found about five miles from her accident site. The Professor told the cops that she had a laptop and her wallet in the car, so they are writing this up as a robbery.”
Logan switched the phone to his other ear, watching Ororo’s forced breathing from the chair to the side of her bed.
“What fuckin’ difference does it make?”
“Last thing we need around the mansion is cops investigating a police report about mutant violence,” Scott said meekly. “Has there been any change?”
“Not yet, but she’s lookin’ a little less blue,” Logan said, grabbing the coffee a nurse had brought him. “I keep hopin’ I’ll curse and she’ll open her eyes to glare at me.”
Scott chuckled. “Hey, might work. If swearing won’t do it, try insulting me. That always gets at least an eye roll out of her.”
Logan smiled a little. “I’ll give it a shot.”
“Hey, Artie wants to talk to you, got a minute?”
“Yeah, put him on.”
There was a muffled sound of Scott covering the receiver and a shout for Artie. Logan waited patiently, his eyes never leaving Ororo’s prone form. He heard the mansion’s side of the phone click and then the sound of Artie’s voice.
“Logan? How’s Miss Munroe?” he asked, sounding frightened.
“Hey, squirt,” he said, inflecting false cheer into his voice. “She’s doin’ better.”
“She woken up yet?”
“Not yet, kid, but I’m sure she’s gettin’ there, so better finish your homework.”
“You’re taking care of her, right?”
“Yeah, bud. I’m takin’ care of her. Now go tell the others Miss Munroe is doin’ better and I’ll call the second she wakes up. We’ll do one of those conference things,” Logan said, trying to reassure himself as well as Artie.
“I’ll do that, Logan. Give her a hug for me.”
With that, Scott took the phone again.
“Thanks, they feel better hearing it from you,” Scott said as though the words caused him pain.
“Just cause I’m here with her,” Logan said quickly. “How’s Jeanie holdin’ up?”
“She says she can get a sense of Ororo, so her mind’s in tact, but the lack of coherent thought is messing her up.”
“Yeah? Damn, well two hours ago she couldn’t get anythin’ but dead silence. Let’s be thankful for small fuckin’ favors,” Logan chuckled hollowly.
“How are you holding up?” Scott asked, genuine concern in his voice.
“Been better,” Logan admitted. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted, but…”
“Don’t want to leave in case she wakes up. I know,” Scott’s voice was pained.
Both men were silent for a moment. “I’ll call if anythin’ changes.”
“Ok.”
Scott hung up.
Logan cradled the receiver as a nurse entered, carrying a bag of saline and a pillow for him. He liked this nurse. She had honey hair and a somber but sweet disposition that said she had found her calling. Erica was her name and she had doted on Ororo the fifteen hours she had been in ICU.
“Hello, Logan,” she greeted. “I brought you a pillow and some more saline for our girl here. Would you like some dinner? The nurses are ordering Chinese and I’d be happy to place an order for you, too.”
She had handed him the pillow and moved Ororo’s bedside during her speech, efficiently changing the dry bag of fluid for the full one before checking the levels on Ororo’s breathing equipment.
“Uh, sure. Chicken Lo Mein, Beef and Broccoli and…” he paused, reaching into his pocket.
He’d been about to order for Ororo too. Closing his eyes, he took the money from his wallet and held it out.
“Don’t worry, Logan. It’s on me,” she said cautiously, as if she knew what he had nearly done. “Give us about half an hour?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he slipped the twenty back into his pocket. No way would he turn down a free dinner after the ridiculous lunch of horrid hospital food.
“I’ll have them bring a roll away in, if you want,” she went on, heading for the door. She paused, smiling faintly. “You’ve got the look of a “Visiting hours don’t apply to me” type.”
He had to smile at that. “Yeah, I’m not leavin’ until she opens her eyes.”
Erica nodded as she left the room, heading back down toward the nurses’ station. Once the door closed, Logan was left with only the hissing of the machines breathing for Ororo and the beeping that monitored her heart.
Scooting his chair toward the bed, he took her hand, noting they had missed a spot of blood from her thumbnail when Erica had helped clean her up. Her hair was still a little stained, but she no longer reeked of the metallic scent.
“Hey, darlin’,” he whispered to her. “How bout wakin’ up now?”
She didn’t even twitch.
“I know you’re pissed off at us, and I won’t tell you I told you so,” he went on. “I’ll never mention it ever again if you open your eyes.”
The beeping continued.
“I’m sorry, ‘Ro. I’m sorry I wasn’t there this time. I know you don’t need a protector, but you did need a partner. Partners look out for each other,” his voice caught and he cleared his throat. “Come on, baby, wake up. Show me those beautiful eyes, even if you just want to tell me off.”
He felt a sting behind his eyes and the lump in his throat seemed to swell. She looked dead. He could barely smell the scent of rain on her. Logan reached up, touching her cheek softly as he blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
A hundred memories flooded him. Ororo’s smile at reading his card that afternoon, the way he’d woken her in the morning, her smile as Tunza bounced around to be let out…that kiss in the theatre, snowfall in her bedroom…the day she’d watched him in the Danger Room…
“If you don’t wake up, ‘Ro,” his voice cracked, so he paused before continuing. “I know you can hear me. Wake up.”
He stared at her for a long time, praying she would move, open her eyes or otherwise show she had heard him. As before, she remained where she was, the tubes and monitors keeping her alive.
Sitting back in his chair, he looked up at the ceiling, inhaling deeply. He closed his eyes, the images of her in the twisted metal of her beloved Mini-Coupe consuming him. Before he could stop it, hot tears leaked from his eyes, slipping down his cheeks in the deafening silence.
~@~
“Ah have tah see him!”
Logan startled awake, falling from the chair with a thud. He instantly looked up, his hands balled into fists, ready for action.
Looking to the bed, he noted that Ororo had not awoken, and his heart sank.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t allow you in,” he heard Erica reply.
“Logan!”
“Rogue?” Logan wiped his face with his hands, walking to the door and opening it quickly.
Rogue stood at the desk, looking more than a little frazzled. She turned when he stepped out of Ororo’s room and gave him a small smile. He watched as she fiddled with her belt buckle, which bore a large “X” engraved on it.
“Its ok, Erica,” Logan said, catching the hint.
The pretty nurse nodded. “I’ll sit with Miss Munroe, why don’t you go get a cup of coffee?”
Logan nodded, though he was nearly in pain as he led Rogue away from the room. Checking the clock above the nurses’ station, he noted Ororo had been in her coma for nearly twenty hours. Worry began to eat at him.
Pulling his young friend into an empty room, he held his hands out.
“What?”
She inhaled deeply. “We got another call bout an hour ago. The man wasn’t careful and Jean was able tah keep him on the line long enough tah get a trace.”
Logan felt a growl beginning in his chest. “And?”
“That camp Magneto was talkin’ bout? That’s where it came from. Mystique contacted Magneto an’ told him she had just heard they’d kill Storm.”
“One-Eye’s got a plan?”
Rogue nodded. “He wanted tah know if you were in. He’s waitin’ in the car.”
He paced a moment, running a hand through his hair. On one hand, he didn’t want to be out of arm’s length from Ororo until he knew she would be all right. On the other, the idea of finding the asshole that had pulled the trigger and ripping his heart out was an extremely attractive option.
“Does Mystique know which one?”
“Yeah,” Rogue replied instantly. “Cyclops doesn’t want ya goin’ vigilante, but Ah don’t think what Scott wants matters much.”
Logan snorted. “You know me too well, kid.”
He paced again. He couldn’t let this slide. When she woke, he wanted to be able to tell her that the anti-mutant bastard that had hurt her would never hurt anyone ever again. He wanted to look her in the eye and know he’d done what he could.
“All right,” he said at last. “You stay with ‘Ro. Don’t you leave her alone, Marie.”
She looked him seriously, a glint of something indescribable in her eyes.
“Ah promise, Logan. Slice ‘em once or twice for me.”
“You got it, kid.”
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