[Reviews - 100]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 5091 times

- Text Size +




Chapter Seven: Why

Ororo stepped out of the shoe store she had allowed herself to become lost in and searched for her young companions. They had agreed to meet her outside of the music store, which happened to be across from Ororo’s favorite place to load up on shoes.

She had allowed herself that one feminine vice. Clothing and shoes. Rogue and Kitty seemed amused by this previously secret knowledge and had taken to advising their guardian on the latest fashions. Ororo did approve of a few choices they had thrust upon her, noting they had taken her personal taste into consideration.

She did, after all, wear quite a bit of blue and white.

Rogue waved to her from the music store, pulling Kitty away from a rather large young man whom did not appear to have true love on his mind. Sighing at the antics of teenagers, Storm beckoned the girls to her, smiling a little as they attempted to juggle their many shopping bags in their arms.

Running away from Logan had not been a very adult decision, but the urge to flee had been too strong to deny. Ororo had woken Kitty and Rogue, tempting them to give her an excuse to leave the mansion with the promise of a shopping trip. They did, in fact, pick up a few things for Jean as a “welcome home” gift, but the majority of the trip had been in the pursuit of feminine things for the three mutant women present.

Putting an arm around Rogue, whom never shied from physical affection when her flesh was covered, Ororo listened to the girls chatter on about the new music disks they had purchased, and the teasing Kitty received about her penchant for large-biceped beaus.

They settled for lunch in one of Ororo’s favorite cafés. Ordering the typical female entrées of salads and soups, Storm continued to listen as the girls gushed all over one another, an inward sigh of relief resonating within her.

From the very moment Rogue had placed her hand in Storm’s that fateful day in the Canadian wilderness, Ororo had a deep-seated need to mother the girl. Her mutation had driven her from the only home she had ever had into a life she never asked for. She would be without direct human contact for the remainder of her life, and yet she held no bitterness or self-loathing within her.

Thriving in Xavier’s haven, Rogue had gained a family unlike any other. Brothers in Scott, Peter and even Henry; sisters in Kitty, Jubilee, and Ororo, and a father in Charles. Her relationship with Logan had it’s own category. He was brother, best friend, cousin, uncle and anything she needed at the time. Though she seemed to have deep feelings for young Mr. Drake, there was no doubt in Ororo’s mind that Logan would ever be closer to her than anyone else and vice versa.

It was the reason Ororo found herself touching Rogue as often as possible. Warm embraces, threading their arms as they walked, maternal kisses to the girl’s hair. She wanted Rogue to have something to hold on to, even if she would never again know the comfort of another’s flesh on hers.

Kitty was a different sort, a perfect companion to Rogue. Kitty was vibrant, a bit silly at times, but with an inner wisdom that had the benefit of innocence. Her family had loved her, no matter her mutation. They had sent to her Xavier’s for protection and training. Now, she was moving into the adult world as an educated and lovely young woman.

Before Rogue’s arrival, Kitty had been much like Storm, reserved, quiet, and a bit reclusive. Rogue had brought Kitty out of her shell and in return, Kitty gave Rogue all the affection and teenage silliness she could handle.

Spending time alone with the two girls made Ororo feel ten years younger. Their enthusiasm, their lust for life was contagious.

As they ate their lunch, Storm battled with her thoughts of Logan. Rogue seemed to understand that something was bothering their former professor, but she did not mention it. She carried on with Kitty, filling the air with friendly chatter. If Ororo whisked her wayward thoughts aside, she could almost pretend that she was merely out for a day of fun with her nieces, without fear and worry.

“Oh! Jubi called last night,” she heard Kitty say. “She’s coming back to the school in July. Her parents want to go to Japan on vacation, but she’d rather come here.”

Rogue squealed girlishly right along with Kitty. The trio would be reunited. Things would be interesting with the three girls and two boys alone in the mansion. They would have to watch them carefully.

I’m not an animal.

Gritting her teeth at the memory of Logan’s voice, Ororo nodded to whatever Rogue had asked of her. She chewed on a bite of her salad, trying to not remember Logan’s panicked cries in his sleep.

The call of her name.

Shuddering, she turned her eyes to the large windows beside them, trying to quiet her mind so as to not ruin the lovely weather.

She had woken to Logan’s thrashing. At first unsure of where she was, she had been frightened, until she remembered Logan’s strong embrace, the urging to let it rain. She had jumped off the bed and hurried to where he lay, calling to him, hoping to chase his nightmare away.

When she was beside him, she heard a low growl from his throat. His rumbling voice suddenly formed words.

“No…come back…dark…‘Ro…don’t leave me here...Not ‘Ro. Don’t take ‘Ro.”

His claws had extended shortly after that, the sound wrenching him from his dreams. Startled that he had been having a nightmare about her, calling for whomever was trying to harm her to stop…telling her to not leave him behind, she had shifted into her teacher’s mode to handle his dream.

But the instant she turned from his chest of drawers, catching sight of his bare chest, the pain in his eyes, the realization that he had been worried for her, reaching for her, hit her with the force of a ton of bricks.

And that was why she could not raise her eyes to his, why she could barely move.

Unable to articulate this, the situation had quickly spiraled out of her control. With everything happening, Jean, Scott, the students…their emotions were too close to the surface. Defenses were up.

Watching him stare at her in that hallway, the feral look in his eyes when she challenged him had been both strangely fascinating and a little frightening. He had allowed her to lose control with him, but she had not returned the favor. She wanted to. She wanted him to lose himself with her, to feel safe enough to let go.

Let it rain.

A lump formed in her throat, recalling that soft tone, the urging to release. She swallowed it down, trying to force herself to remember that she was angry with him. Anger was better than pity or fear. She did not want to pity him. He was an equal, her teammate, and her friend. He deserved better.

“Miss Munroe, you listenin’?” Rogue’s voice broke into her thoughts, making Ororo turn with an apologetic smile.

“I am sorry, Rogue, what did you say?”

Rogue gave her a look that clearly said she was in for a long night of prodding later before she replied.

“Ah think we should get the boys somethin’. Yah know, just to let ‘em know we didn’t forget about ‘em in the shoppin’ craze,” she repeated.
“I like that idea, Marie,” Kitty chimed in, reaching for her pocketbook. “I’ve got a twenty left. You?”

The girls chattered on about their savings, trying to quickly budget a way to get every male a token of affection with thirty-one dollars. Touched by their thoughtfulness, Ororo reached over the table and covered both of their hands with hers.

“Because you two have been very good at keeping up with chores, I will pay for whatever you want to get the men. Just this once,” she said, a soft smile on her lips.

Rogue and Kitty jumped up as one to kiss Ororo’s cheeks. Rogue placed her gloved hand between their flesh so that she would not harm the elder woman, which made Ororo chuckle. The sentiment was the same, gloves or no.

Kitty and Rogue picked up the light check for their lunch with their savings, refusing to allow Ororo to do so. The girls headed back into the mall. It did not take long to find things for the men. As women, they had the tendency to remember bits of conversations, and it was those nuggets of information that lead to their handful of purchases.

A book the Professor had mentioned wanting, a bottle of wine for Henry, a video game for Bobby, a disk of Russian opera for Peter, and an enormous digest of Scott’s beloved comic book they found on sale.

For Logan, Rogue insisted on a silver cigar case at a modest price. Ororo agreed that it was a thoughtful gift, as they had been utterly stumped on the subject for the better part of half an hour. Deciding to add a few cigars to the gift, they trooped into the tobacco shop, arms laden with so many bags Ororo was beginning to wonder how they would get it all home.

The girls wandered around the aromatic shop, sniffing cigar after cigar until they came up with three different choices. Unable to choose between them, Ororo collected the younger girl’s choices and with hers, placed them on the counter, sliding her credit card to the clerk.

She had saved months of her teaching salary for a “rainy day” and this qualified. Money meant nothing to her “ she had grown up virtually penniless “ which led to a fair amount in her bank account, just in case. She slipped the purchased cigars into a bag and ushered the girls from the shop.

Though she did not want to contemplate why, the smell of cigar smoke reminded her of Logan and that made her heart skip a beat. The thought of him enjoying the cigar she had purchased, which had an earthy scent to it, dizzied her.

Angry with herself, she headed to the car they had abandoned in the parking lot hours ago, taking her keys from her pocket. She wanted to get home, give the men their trinkets and then take a long bath in the solitude of her bedroom. Thoughts of Logan would have to wait until she had more control over her emotions.

Just as she reached the sleek white sports car Charles had given her as a gift years ago, Ororo popped the trunk open with the tiny remote on her key chain, turning to speak to the girls.

They had stopped several meters behind her, frozen in their tracks, a look of horror on their faces. Her heart stopped in her chest, the shopping bags falling from her hands, the sound of glass breaking at her feet seemed to echo.

“Marie? Kitty?”

Her shout fell upon deaf ears. Ororo took off at a run, unable to see what had frightened her companions so. The maternal need to protect overrode any other emotion as she zigzagged her way through the crowded parking lot.

Before she could reach them, a group of young men approached. Fear turning to rage, Ororo noted that the ringleader bore a shirt with a blood red logo.

Death to Mutants.

Swallowing a cry of fathomless ire, Ororo flung herself between her young charges and the advancing boys. Breathing hard, she looked into the leader’s face, each of her hands grasping the wrist of the girls, pushing them behind her.

“Is there a problem here?” she questioned evenly, blood thudding in her veins.

“Yeah,” the boy replied harshly. “These two are mutants.”

“That is a problem? Did they attempt to harm you?” Ororo played for time, trying to think of a way out of this mess, chiding herself for not keeping a closer eye on the girls.

“Fuck yeah, it is. Move out of the way so we can take care of these freaks, lady,” the words were met with appreciative shouts from the surrounding boys.

Not wanting to contemplate what he meant by that statement, Ororo decided her only way out of this mess was a display of power. Mentally cringing from the lecture she was sure to receive, Storm allowed her rage to tap into her mutation, her eyes stinging as they changed from blue to solid white.

“Freaks, are we?” she said in a clipped tone, willing the skies to blacken above them. “No matter your reasons, I will not allow harm to come to these girls.”

“She’s one of them!” a voice came from the rear of the crowd.

“I am. And I think you should leave here, forget any of this happened before I get very angry.”

Driving her point home, Storm cued a massive clap of thunder, the winds howling around them.

Fingernails bit into her hands, the girls drew closer to her, as though attempting to stand up for themselves. She could not blame them for their fear. Unlike Ororo or Logan or any of the others, the girls’ powers were benign. Should they need to defend themselves, they would have to resort to hand-to-hand combat. Neither of them had been trained properly against a group that was so much larger and vicious.

“You won’t hurt us,” the lead boy sneered.

Storm tilted her head. “Try me,” she nearly growled.

Slowly, the would-be assailants backed away, glaring daggers at Storm. She did not relent. Once they were a safe distance from them, Storm dropped a bolt of lightning to the pavement between them.

“GO!” she screamed to the girls behind her.

In the confusion, the three mutants ran for the car, cloaked by the acrid smoke the lightning had provided them. Rogue scooped up their packages from the black top before jumping into the convertible. Kitty leaped into the backseat as Storm nearly flew into the driver’s seat, pushing the key into the ignition.

The car roared to life as the smoke cleared. Their attackers looked around in confusion, but it was too late. Storm rammed the gearshift into reverse and tore out of the parking lot. Only when they were on the highway, did Storm look back. Breathing a sigh of relief that the gang had not pursued, she turned to the girls.

“Are you all right?”

“Ah’m fine,” Rogue replied from the passenger seat, turning to look at Kitty.

“Not hurt,” the other girl said softly. “I’m sorry Miss Munroe. I was talking and not paying attention. They saw me phase through a car.”

Sighing, Ororo looked in the rearview mirror at the girl. “That was careless, Kitty, but it happens. I am merely relieved we were not injured and that I was not forced to hurt one of the boys.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ororo saw Rogue reach back to take Kitty’s hand. The girls held on tightly for a moment, as though comforting one another.

“They do not know any better, my girls,” Ororo said quietly. “They fear us and that fear turns to hatred. We should not blame them, darlings.”

Rogue’s free hand grasped Ororo’s shoulder. “We know.”

They drove back to the mansion in silence after that, each of them mulling over the experience. With an inward start, Ororo realized that during the encounter, her deepest wish was that Logan had been there to protect them.

~@~

It was not surprising that there was a welcoming party awaiting them as they pulled into the driveway of the mansion.

Everyone they had left behind that morning, including the Professor, was crowded in the drive, matching looks of worry on their faces. Ororo cut the engine of her car in time for Scott to rush forward, wrenching her door open.

“Charles said his mental alarms went off about an hour ago. We were worried sick,” he said in one breath, dragging Ororo from the driver’s seat and into a bone-breaking hug.

“Rogue!” Ororo heard Bobby call out from behind Scott.

“Bobby!” the girl replied.

The door of the car shut, hinting that Rogue had gone flying into her boyfriend’s arms. When Scott released Ororo, he kissed her forehead gently before pulling away.

“We wanted to come to your aid, but Charles assured us you had all escaped unharmed,” Henry commented as he too embraced her.

“Yes, we were lucky. I had to frighten the boys a bit, but that was the extent,” Ororo returned his affectionate embrace quickly.

“Boys?” Charles asked as Ororo moved from Henry’s arms.

Ororo nodded, smiling at Bobby and Rogue, whom were still locked into a relieved embrace. She raised a brow when Peter reached into the convertible and lifted a shell shocked Kitty from the backseat. He spoke to her in a quiet tone until she responded, wrapping her arms about his neck.

“Unfortunately so. It was a group of teens looking for a fight,” Storm frowned.

Logan had not said a word.

Leaning against the brick wall of the garage, he stared at the group in complete silence. Storm looked to him quickly, turning her eyes away when she realized his gaze was fixed on her. She reached into the car, retrieving the fruits of the shopping trip. Rogue finally broke free of Bobby, rushing to Logan an instant later.

When Ororo looked back up, Logan’s face had relaxed into a mask of tender relief. He held the young girl tightly as the group moved inside.

Kitty began to chatter the instant they were in the living room, explaining the entire ordeal from the comfort of Peter’s lap. Knowing the young man was sensitive and serious, everyone had the good sense to not mention it. Kitty was susceptible to panic attacks. Anything that kept her calm after such an experience was welcome.

It took an hour of questioning before Charles and the other men were satisfied. By then, everyone was much calmer. Henry had prepared a light snack and cups of tea. Ororo idly wondered if he’d laced the tea with a sedative. She could not blame him if he had. It had been a trying two days to say the very least.

Once the shock had worn off, the girls proudly brought out their gifts to the men. It had been some time since they had all been in the same room for any length of time. When asked what they had done to receive gifts, Rogue had replied that they had been good boys and good boys deserved rewards now and then. Storm almost laughed at the expression on Logan’s face after that comment.

One by one, the gifts were opened, much to the delight of the shoppers. Unfortunately, Henry’s wine bottle had been broken when Ororo dropped the bags to rush to the rescue.

Heading off Kitty’s tears, Ororo promised to take the girls on a hunt for a replacement in a few days. Henry gave both young girls gentlemanly kisses to the backs of their hands as an acknowledgement to their thoughtfulness.

Ororo inquired after Jean as Charles held his new leather-bond volume of Shakespearean sonnets lovingly in his hands. He reported that he had made some progress, and that Jean was resting comfortably. A bit disappointed that Jean had not come back to them yet, she returned Charles’ understanding smile with a tightening of her lips.

Rogue reached for the bag of Logan’s cigars with a sly wink to Ororo. Deciding to stay put, as opposed to exiting quickly with a lame excuse, Storm folded her hands in her lap and leveled a steady gaze to Logan.

He looked confused for a moment in his corner when Rogue handed him the gift bag, giving him a quick kiss to his bearded cheek. Seemingly understanding that everyone wanted him to open it immediately, no matter what his personal feeling was, he gingerly reached into the bag.

“Nice,” he commented to Rogue around the cigar pinched between his teeth.

Holding up the sleek, silver cigar case, he gave the young girl a small smile as thanks, slipping the case into the pocket of his jeans.

“There’s more,” Kitty supplied tentatively.

Raising a brow at the girl, Logan pulled the cigar from his lips, handing it to Rogue. She took the cigar gingerly, holding it out in front of her and waving the smoke from her face. Logan rummaged around inside the bag for a moment before locating the three slender cigars.

Surprise written all over his face, he pulled the tools of his addiction out, holding each one up to his nose for a thorough sniff-inspection.

“These…these are good,” he commented at last.

From the selection, he held one up. “Kitty picked this one,” he said gruffly. The girl blushed prettily.

He pointed to the next. “This has Rogue all over it.” Marie beamed at him.

Ororo kept her eyes on him as he paused, taking the third in both hands. His dark eyes met hers as he looked up. That same feral look came over him, but still she kept her eyes even with his.

“Thanks, Storm,” he said simply.

She nodded a reply as he tucked his new cigars into his pocket, then took the still-burning one from Rogue.

Let it rain.

Ororo had to avert her eyes when the memory washed over her. Attempting to control her breathing, she touched Henry’s arm to get his attention, trying to focus on anything but Logan and his stare.

Hours later, Ororo dragged her shopping bags upstairs. Finally alone, she dropped the bags onto her bed and began to shuffle through them. Her new bathrobe was calling her name as she readied herself for a bath. The girls were still downstairs, watching a film they had purchased with Bobby, Peter, Henry and Scott.

Charles had retreated to his rooms some time ago, saying he wanted to read his new book for a while before heading to bed. He had to rest in preparation for another day of mental battle with Jean’s dark side.

Logan. Where had Logan run off to? Shaking her head to clear it of anything that resembled Logan, she finally found her new ice-blue robe and carried it into the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom.

Running bathwater, she poured a bit of her natural lavender bath oil into the warm water, hoping it would lull her to sleep. She lit candles around the bathroom before stepping out of her dirty clothes. Spotting a scorch mark on her white blouse, she tossed it into the garbage bin in her bedroom with a sigh. At least she had a replacement already.

She pulled her hair up as the bathtub filled, the sweet aroma of lavender spilling throughout the room. She inhaled deeply, trying to will the scent to ease her tense muscles. Looking at her reflection in the candlelight, she gently touched her neck, watching the play of shadows as the candle flames danced about her.

Studying her skin for signs of age or damage in the full-length mirror, Ororo spotted the thin red scar on her abdomen. Caressing the slender line with a fingertip, she felt the flashes of memory come over her. The sting of the bullet ripping through her skin, the overwhelming darkness, Logan’s face when she awoke.

I’ve got ya.

Shaking herself again, she took her fingers from the scar, meeting the reflection of her eyes in the mirror.

“What is wrong with you?” she whispered to herself, as though the mirror would reply.

Her quiet contemplation came to an end when a solid knock sounded on her bedroom door. Shutting off the water, Ororo reached for her blue bathrobe, pulling it over her nude body and tying the belt to keep it closed.

Once in the dark bedroom, she opened the door, mentally cursing in her native language when Logan’s dark eyes met hers.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, keeping her tone level.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” he said quietly, his hands shoved into his pockets.

She furrowed her brow at him. “I am not sure I understand.”

He pierced her with that feral gaze, his eyes never leaving her face, even in her state of serious undress.

“For protecting Rogue from that gutter trash. I don’t know if I could have stayed in control during that. Someone woulda wound up dead,” he explained.

“Oh,” Ororo nodded. “Of course I would protect Rogue. She is one of our own and I am quite fond of her.”

Logan’s nod was distracted, but he held her still with that stare, as though he were trying to push his way into her mind to dissect what she was thinking.

“Still, thanks,” he repeated, turning to go. “I’m glad you were there.”

Before he could step away from her, Ororo spoke. “I wished you had been there, Logan. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.”

He did not turn as Ororo gave herself a mental slap. She had not wished to reveal that, but his presence always did have a way of loosening her tongue.

“You’re not vulnerable, Storm. You cried. It happens. If Chuck had told me One-Eye was with Rogue when it all hit the fan, I would have torn outta here on that bike, needed or not,” he paused, turning to her at last. “I stayed behind because I knew you would take care of things.”

Surprised he had revealed so much to her, Ororo could only blink at him for a moment. Back was the candid way he used to speak to her, this was the Logan she remembered from long conversations in her classroom as he looked over her notes.

And then it clicked.

“That is why you do not leave the grounds, isn’t it?” she nearly whispered. “You do not trust anyone to protect Rogue, not after what happened to Jean.”

If she had surprised him, he covered it very well. “That’s not the only reason, but it has somethin’ to do with it, I reckon.”

Another pause seemed to stretch between them.

“And you’re wrong. I’ve always trusted you when it comes to her.”

Their eyes met again, this time filled with everything he had not said. The argument from the night before seemed to fall away, replaced by a need to protect him. She wanted, so badly, to chase all of his demons away, to help him find peace. But he blinked, and the moment was over.

“’Night, ‘Ro,” he grumbled, stepping away from her.

“Goodnight,” she replied, closing her bedroom door.

She leaned against the door once she was alone again, thinking over the brief exchange. With a pang of something she could not describe, another realization came over her.

For some reason, he did not trust anyone, except her, to protect Rogue without his aid. And he did not trust anyone, save himself, to protect Ororo.





You must login () to review.