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Chapter Five: Let It Rain


The jet eased into a descent as they reached the snow-capped mountains of Alkali Lake. Beast and Colossus had spoken in quiet tones throughout the flight, mostly about life as an X-Man. Logan, consumed with his own thoughts, had remained absolutely silent.

Dawn had risen over the mountains surrounding the lake. The clear blue sky seemed endless, meeting the lake at the horizon. Dark water reflected the sky as though it were a mirror, not even a breeze rippling the surface. Under any other circumstances, it would have been breathtaking.

But Storm was in her own personal hell. The telepathic mind that had called to her so often since Jean’s death reached nearly unbearable proportions the closer they came to the lake. Her head ached with the force it required to concentrate on piloting. Her hands gripped the steering column with white knuckles, her control on her powers slipping with every mile.

Thick fog rolled onto the lake as the X-Men came to a low hover above the water, a testament that her powers were getting the better of her. Nothing remained of the base or the dam. Everything had been tucked neatly into the ocean-sized lake, leaving nothing to the naked eye save the crisp blue water and mountain peaks that seemed to go on forever.

This way. Come closer. Stay back! Help me…

The warring voices in her mind held her captive, unable to even think about anything save the jet and this need to find whatever lay hidden within the water.

She froze as the jet shrieked to a stop exactly above the place Jean had died. She frantically attempted to gain control of the jet, but it stubbornly refused to heed her commands. Logan’s voice was calling to her, mixed with the soft tones of Beast and the thick accent of Colossus.

“Jean…” she whispered.

Leave me! Save me! Ororo…NO!

Voices in her mind screamed with agony, forcing Storm to cover her ears in an attempt to drown them out. Before she could control herself, red-hot flame engulfed the jet and some unknown force pushed the previously motionless plane into the sky at a breakneck pace.

Spiraling upward, Storm did not even attempt to manipulate the controls of the jet. She held on for dear life, her mind searching for the voice of her friend. There was a grumble and shriek of two voices, a battle that she heard in her mind but was happening elsewhere.

She knew, without a doubt that one voice was Jean’s. Grasping that hope, she tried to activate the link Jean had always kept with the X-Men, hoping to exploit it, to gain some kind of edge. Whatever had happened to Jean, she was not the same.

The spinning motion and startlingly thin air made her dizzy, and still she reached with her mind, hoping against every doubt her head gave her that she could find her friend. Save her from whatever was ailing her. To take her home. Where she belonged.

As suddenly as the plane had moved, it stopped. Storm watched with veiled eyes as the electronics of her controls blacked out. The jet dropped into a flat spin, heading toward the water below them.

The telepathic hold on her mind seemed to vanish. Without missing a beat, Storm raised her hands, palm side up, and called the winds to her command. Grunting with the force she needed to capture enough air about the jet, she felt her eyes turn to that unmistakable white, her arms shaking with the force of her powers.

You have to let go, a soft, familiar voice said soothingly in her mind. Let it go, Storm. Save them.

Gasping with the effort, Storm raised her hands a little higher, gritting her teeth as she whipped the gathering winds around them in an attempt to slow their descent. The flame surrounding the plane had not burned them and it faltered in the battle with Storm’s powers. Concentrating with everything in her body, Storm released the desperation and hope within her, the wind howled in response.

Slowly, the jet leveled off with the help of lifting winds. Storm could not release the winds until she had the controls again. She screamed into the link that had reestablished in her mind for Jean’s help.

Orange flame died around them. The electronics blinked to life and the unmanned controls shook before her. Storm reigned in her emotions, pushing the winds back to their original course and gripping the steering column.

Her entire body shook with fatigue. Checking their altitude and heading, she dropped the jet into a hover before she turned to look at her teammates.

Three pairs of eyes gazed back at her, as though shocked to the core. Storm managed a shrug.

“I do not know what is happening, so do not ask,” she replied evenly. “Is anyone hurt?”

“No,” Wolverine grumbled. “But I may be sick.”

A flash of blinding light filled the jet, making Storm close her eyes against it. In the seconds it lasted, she wondered if this was the end. Had Jean turned into some dark thing? Was her own mind turning against her in the wake of her apparent death? Was it all in Ororo’s head after all?

Behind her, there was a loud thud as the light vanished. A hiss, a crash, a loud, metallic pop echoed through the jet’s interior as they were blinded. And then the crumpling sound as though a body had hit the steel floor. Whipping around in her chair, eyes stinging as they adjusted to the shifts in light, she blinked, searching for the cause.

“Oh my stars and garters,” Henry breathed from his seat, using one of his signature phrases. “Jean.”

Storm’s breath caught in her throat when her eyes found the body of Jean only a meter behind her, sprawled on the floor as if she had been carelessly thrown onto the jet. Her uniform was torn to shreds, hair mangled and her eyes were closed.

But the soft rise and fall of her chest said she was breathing.

Slowly, each of the X-Men unbuckled their harnesses, standing to congregate around the prone form of their lost teammate. Beast approached cautiously, waving them all away. He kneeled at Jean’s head, long, clawed fingers checking her throat for a pulse.

The instant Henry’s flesh touched Jean’s, the lifeless woman’s eyes snapped open and she wreathed them both in flame. Storm felt Wolverine’s protective arms encircle her, shielding her from the fire as Beast cried out in pain.

“Help…me,” Jean’s soft voice pleaded with a hollow echo.

A sharp resonance of metal on metal rang through the room. Without looking, Storm knew that Colossus was transforming. She peered over the tight embrace of Wolverine’s arms in time to see their youngest member reach for the first aid kit.

He grasped a syringe and stepped directly into the fire. Not affected by the scalding heat, he pushed Beast out of the ring of fire, grasping Jean’s arm with his steel encased hand. Holding the limb, he jammed the needle into her arm and shoved the plunger down, filling her veins with some sort of sedative.

Jean screamed with fury, a terrifying, alien sound. And then all was quiet.

“Holy shit,” Wolverine breathed in the silence.

Storm stepped away from his embrace, rushing to check on Henry. He was burned, but insisted that it was not serious. Ordering Colossus to bandage him as best he could, she turned her attention back to Jean.

Wolverine was kneeling over her limp form. He touched her pale face gently, as a lover would, unchecked tears rolling down his cheeks. Storm’s heart went out to him. After all the progress he’d made toward acceptance, this had to happen. She was overjoyed that Jean was alive, though whatever she had mutated into was frightening.

“Logan?” she asked tentatively, taking a step to him.

He did not reply.

“Wolverine, put Jean into a chair until we can get back to the Professor. He’ll know what to do,” she ordered him softly.

The man effortlessly lifted Jean into his arms, gently placing her sedated form into the first available seat and strapping her in. His eyes stayed on the face he assumed he would never see again, looking for all the world as though he was lost in a sea of raging emotion.

Careful not to startle him, Storm moved to her pilot’s seat, asking that they all buckle up so they could head back to the mansion. Logan complied in a daze, taking his place in the co-pilot’s chair. He did not speak.

No one spoke. The long trip home was drenched in stunned silence. Storm tried to keep her mind on the journey, though her chest ached and her hands shook. One question bounced through her weary mind:

What will Scott say?

~@~

“Jean mutated a second time, almost ten months ago,” Henry explained as the entire compliment of mutants at the mansion gathered in the infirmary.

“Her telepathic powers were altered when she used Cerebro during Magneto’s attack on Liberty Island. For some reason, it tapped into an unused portion of Jean’s psyche and expanded it. Her telepathic power cannot be charted,” the furry doctor pointed to the large screen on the wall.

“This is Jean’s genetic coding and brain waves roughly a month before her use of Cerebro,” he pushed a button, placing a new set of medical scans beside the first. “These are test results from one hour ago.”

The assembled group blinked in confusion. Jean’s higher brain functions were literally off the charts, and her genetic code was significantly altered. Ororo looked from Henry to the Professor.

“Her powers began to surface in the month between Liberty Island and Stryker’s attack, culminating when she used everything in her to save the jet and everyone on it. Though she was willing to die, her body activated the mutation and moved to protect her,” Henry finished in his placid manner.

“Is she rejecting the mutation?” Ororo asked quietly.

Henry shook his head. “No. However, the new mutation also affected several other areas of her brain, releasing her more primitive instincts. When the Jean we all know and love became frightened of her increased power, her mind moved to protect her, just as her body had mutated to save her life. She developed something similar to a dual personality.”

“What Henry is trying to say is that Jean is still Jean, but now the darker side of her personality has been given it’s own sentience. The two sides are fighting for control now, which is why Jean attacked the jet,” Charles surmised, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Is there anything you can do to help her, Professor?” Scott questioned, worry in his voice.

Storm reached over the table and grasped his hand, willing some of her waning strength into him. Cyclops gave her a half-smile in return, squeezing her hand gently. He had still not overcome the shock of seeing his fiancée be carried out of the jet hours ago. Ororo had the feeling none of them would recover for quite some time. Losing a loved one was hard enough. Getting them back was an entirely different ball game.

“Fortunately, yes,” Charles said with a hint of a smile. “I can enter Jean’s mind while she is sedated and help her suppress her darker half.”

“Will that not simply delay the problem?” Ororo inquired.

“This “second personality” is really just the suppressed desires and primitive nature that could be found in all of us. Jean and I will simply be putting it back where it belongs,” the Professor assured her.

“So, she’ll be back to her normal self?” Logan spoke for the first time from his corner in the room.

“Yes, and no,” Henry chimed in. “Jean’s second mutation cannot be reversed. It is a natural step in her personal evolution. Her powers have increased and she will have to undergo rigorous training to gain a handle on them.”

“Her personality should return to what it was before, though the added stress of her near-death experience and eight months alone will take time to overcome,” Charles paused, looking far away for a moment. “Yes, our Jean has returned to us.”

The younger generation had remained quiet on their side of the table, Rogue crying silently into her hands. Ororo assumed it was the relief of having her friend returned. Bobby slowly raised his head.

“Why was she gone so long? Why didn’t she send out a message sooner?”

“She did,” Ororo said flatly. “But the Professor, Scott, Henry and I all assumed it was only a subconscious hope and not an actual plea. Somehow, Jean managed to override both the Professor and myself last night. The message was not clear, but the urge to return to Alkali Lake was undeniable.”

She felt Logan’s eyes on her immediately. Ororo could feel the heat of his quiet anger. In their time together, she had not once mentioned her suspicions to him. No doubt he felt betrayed that she had kept this to herself. That was a problem for another day.

“For now, I want you all to get some sleep. Jean will be kept under close watch for the next several hours while I rest. Once I am ready, I will begin the process of putting her new friend back in place,” Charles looked around the room in that fatherly manner he reserved for the most private of moments among his pupils. “There is nothing to be done here and now.”

Recognizing a dismissal, the group began to stand, talking quietly amongst themselves. Storm, itching to get out of her leather uniform and slip into bed, handed Scott over to the Professor, trailing along behind the younger adults.

Dragging her feet a little, she caught Colossus’ eye and smiled at him. He had done well. Sedating Jean and saving Henry from worse injury without pause. Storm was suddenly very sure he would make an invaluable member of their team.

“’Ro?”

Logan’s low growl made her turn, slowing her already languid pace. When he caught up with her, she gave an inward sigh. He was going to let loose all of his inner rage on her. There was no stopping it; she would just have to gather whatever strength she had left and face him.

“Ya look like shit, darlin’,” he said, studying her face.

Giving him a weak smile, Ororo nodded. “I should not have used so much power in the jet. I feel as though I will fall over,” she admitted.

Something about Logan always managed to loosen her tongue. It was virtually impossible to lie when he put his full attention on her. She turned to continue to her rooms when he caught her arm.

“You won’t make it to your room alone, come on,” he said softly, taking her arm and wrapping it around his broad waist while holding her close with one arm.

Allowing herself to give in to her fatigue now that they were alone, Ororo leaned heavily on him, her weak body slumping a little in his arms.

“How do ya manage to hold on like you do?” Logan whispered, helping her up the stairs.

“Tenacity,” Ororo replied sleepily. She would be lucky to not simply fall asleep in his safe embrace.

Logan chuckled a little under his breath. “I can understand that one. Come on, only a few steps left, then we’re on the homestretch.”

Her strength was all but gone by the time they reached the top of the stairs. With a sigh, her steps faltered, weak knees nearly sending her to the carpeted floor. Not missing a beat, Logan’s arms shifted as he bent to collect her neatly into his chest.

Half asleep already, she folded into his embrace, trembling in his arms. Such strength. She marveled at it. He carried her as though she weighed nothing more than a stack of papers. Ororo stared up into his bearded face, eyes heavy lidded.

It is then that she realized what Jean’s return meant. Logan. Scott. The Professor. The children. They would soon have someone else to lean on. Her cool composure flinched for a moment.

A sniff. Logan was testing the air, as he always did. His gaze swung from the hallway to her face and she could feel his pace increase a bit. He could tell she was on the brink.

“Hang on, darlin’. We’re almost there. Don’t lose it here,” he whispered, rushing her passed Rogue’s room.

Instead of trotting further down the hall to her bedroom, which was across from Scott’s, Logan turned sharply, opening the door to his bedroom and carrying her into the silent room. She could feel the temperature of the room drop and she knew instantly that she was the cause.

Not able to see where they are going, she felt Logan sit, probably on his bed. Shaking with restraint, Ororo looked up into his eyes, sensing an understanding in his dark gaze.

“I normally don’t take well to cryin’ but you look ready to burst. Just let it go,” his voice the gentlest she had ever heard it.

She shook her head, knowing she was losing her battle for control.

“I can’t,” she choked out, clutching at the leather of his uniform.

“Why? Because of your powers?” he paused. “Jean is alive, ‘Ro. Life’s up and dropped us all on our asses again. You’ve held it together too long as it is.”

That’s not it, she screamed in her mind. No one needs me again.

“Let it rain,” Logan’s gruff voice was soothing in an odd sort of way. “Just let it rain.”

A sob finally escaped her control. With a half-sigh, half-sob of relief, she relaxed into his embrace, releasing the fury of her mutant’s gift. Logan’s warm arms came up to wrap around her, holding her shaking form to his chest, shushing her as she cried into the now broken silence of his room. She heard the wind outside howl, mingled with the steady clatter of raindrops on the roof as the world shared her pain and wept for her.





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