The Call for Help
Author notes: I listened to the song called Logan and Rouge from the first movie and this wouldn't get out of my head. The music helps with the progression of the short fiction. Be sure to read slowly, the music will guide you to the pace.
Disclaimer: no money was gained from this. The Characters used belong to Marvel and associated parties
My dreams greyed as a buzzing drove me from my slumbers. I was being called. I looked at the number and had to read it several times. I had turned my back on them yet they called. Forgiveness and fear are very powerful. I never thought I'd be going back there. Not in this life time at least. But the call was urgent and I had no choice, he needed me. They needed me.
I packed my life into a backpack; throwing everything that I could need inside. Extra clothes, a med kit my old untouched communicator, in essence my life from another part of the world. My past training kicking in renewing the adrenaline surge I use to get with these calls when they came frequently. I left my apartment not knowing if I'd see it again.
Memories of my past floated before my eyes, grief, fear, laughter and love all rushed though me, leaving my body feeling empty but my mine full. A small quiver of fear raced thought my body, followed by a new sense of duty.
Summing a source from with in me, my feet left the ground and I joined the birds in the sky. Soaring though the clouds, it was the most natural thing I could do. Flying was my second birth, my second world; a world shown to me by an ex-goddess, a sister in arms, a true woman of the earth and by an angel of our age.
Breaking though the clouds I flew though open sky, a flock of birds fluttered as I flew past them. They were heading south, as was I. The sun was warm on my back the wind cooling my flushed face, hair lashing behind me as free as I was long ago. The air it's self embracing me as a mother does a child…oh how I had missed this feeling.
I rolled on to my back and smiled for the first time in many months. Freedom I had denied my self for something more tangible. A normal life. Leaving regret far below I returned to the more serious task and added speed. Flying as a bird was built to, I was strong. I was prepared for what awaited me below.
The ground passed quickly below me, soon I was over the border, and no one was the wiser. Trees became few as the buildings took over; the clouds became grey with soot. Then as I flew further the trees grew tall again and parted as I made my descent. Steering clear of prying eyes I took the longer route to cross the property.
A feeling of dread over took my body; quickly I buried it beneath my sense of duty. I could be a scared child later, right now I was needed.
The building didn't look worse for wear one the exterior, but then again there were ways of entering it with a less pronounced air Many of our enemies didn't believe in being obvious to the world.
I opened the oak doors and looked at the destruction which surrounded me. There were scorch marks on the walls, pillars of melting ice here and there, broken pots and rubble scattered every where , but there were no bodies in sight. That was a blessing. Triple scratches and gouges in the wood and floor were clear evidence of Wolverine. A skilled fighter yet not found. I worried more, no sounds of a battle reached my ears meaning what ever happened has finished.
I scouted the main floor, not knowing what to expect. I didn't know who nor how long ago the attack happened. I prayed for my friends and cursed for their pain.
Slowly like my teachers and friends taught me I looked into every room. It was nearing the south hall when I spotted them. Two were moving slowly but enough to tell me they were alive. Jean and Scott close together laying in battle as they should lay together in marriage; Ororo a little further from me still stirring but a far cry from the goddess she use to be.
I crept up to the second story, slowly shocked at the marks embedded into the wooden paneling. On the landing sat Logan semi-conscious at best healing even as I watched. His body pushing spent bullets to the hardwood floor. His grey blue eyes met mine and I felt his pain. Looking past him I saw my caller slumped near a broken window, a broken cell phone by his side. He and I hadn't spoken for a long while but my heart still sung for him.
I ran to him, my eyes washing over him looking and checking for injuries. I called his name in a hushed whisper. Not wanting to wake him if he slumbered but wanting more then anything to see his eyes open and see only me. As I watched his blue eyes began to open they locked on to mine as then everything faded to grey. I opened my eyes to be greeted with my cell phone flashing impaitently; I rolled over to my side opening the phone it read there was one message. I knew who it was. It could only be him. I could only hope my dream was not what was to be.