Lightning flashed and rain battered the windows of the Batmobile. Bruce's eyes narrowed as he observed the violent weather. Not unusual for Gotham, but unexpected for tonight. Something was wrong. There was an explanation his traitorous mind whispered, but he shoved the thought aside. It was wishful thinking; he was letting his emotions cloud his judgement, it was probably something mundane. Hugo Strange was at large and was definitely smart enough to build a weather manipulation machine, given the right materials. It wasn't necessarily her.
A flash of lightning illuminated a thing strip of the night sky, briefly showing him a woman flying in the clouds. Bruce's lips tightened. He'd been wrong to mistrust his instincts. He exited the Batmobile and climbed a nearby building. Going from rooftop, to rooftop he attempted to get closer. Something was wrong; Now that he was outside, he could hear the wind howling as though it was in pain and the rain battered his face as though the sky was weeping upon the earth. Her ability was tied to her emotions and she had to be in extreme pain to cause something like this.
"STORM." He shouted up at her. The weather witch was floating above a building 2 roofs away from Bruce's current position. Her eyes were white and he knew she was lost in her power, unaware of anything around her. "Ororo." He said softly. Shooting a grapple line, he swung to the building under where Ororo was floating. He was almost thrown back by the force of the winds surrounding the eye; surrounding Ororo. Letting go of the line, he gripped the side of the building. Hauling himself up to the roof, he looked up at her. The next lightning flash showed him a sight that shook him to his core. The front of her uniform was drenched in blood.
There was a thunderclap so loud that Bruce could feel it vibrating in his bones. It was accompanied by a shriek and Ororo began plummeting. Bruce rushed forward and caught her before she fell on the ground. He knelt, holding her against him. The blood on her uniform was bizarre. Some of it was hers, but much of it didn't appear to be human. She was also light…too light. He held her close and activated his com.
"Alfred." He growled.
"Yes, Batman." Alfred replied.
"Prep the emergency medical kit." He ordered.
"Yes, Master Bruce." Alfred said. "What type of injuries did you sustain?"
"It's not me." He said, cutting the com. Pressing a button on his utility belt, summoning the Batmobile to the street below. Holding Ororo close, he jumped down. Opening the roof, he put her in the back seat of the car, making sure she was secure before jumping into the driver's seat and pulling away. Tearing through Gotham, he noted the way the sky seemed to clear. Either Ororo had calmed down or she wasn't strong enough to maintain the storm. He hoped it wasn't the second option. Pulling into the Batcave, he pushed the roof open, the automatic mechanism not opening fast enough for him. Alfred was waiting for him and helped him take Ororo from the backseat.
"I saw the weather reports and suspected…." Alfred said; he faltered momentarily when he took in the state of Ororo's clothes and the blood trickling from her front. They put her on the med table and Alfred fell into medic mode, removing the X uniform to survey the damage.
"Did Mrs. Ororo tell you what caused these injuries?" He asked.
"She wasn't in any condition to talk." Bruce said, his eyes darkened with anger as the removal of the material revealed large whip like gashes on her arms, chest and back. There were bruises, discolorations and evidence of other injuries. Her skin was also dull, lacking its usual healthy glow, making her seem faded even gray; she was clearly malnourished.
"Some of these aren't fresh." Alfred murmured quietly. "I'd estimate some of them are about 2 months old. She's also lost a large amount of weight."
Bruce looked at the table. "Help her." he said, his voice hoarse, pleading. Alfred nodded.
"Perhaps you should contact the X-Men." He suggested as he pulled on gloves and began treating her wounds.
"Oh they'll be hearing from me." Bruce turned around and made his way to the cave's computers. Hitting a few buttons he opened a channel to the Xavier institute. After a few seconds the image of Wolverine came up on the screen.
"What do you want, Bat?" He grumbled. Bruce felt a surge of satisfaction that the bad tempered mutant had answered and not the professor. He had great respect for Professor X and didn't feel like arguing with him. Logan was another story.
"When were you planning on telling me that Ororo was missing?" He asked, his voice dangerously soft. Logan looked at him in surprise
"Did you find her?" He asked.
"I asked you a question." Bruce said.
"Where is she?" Logan asked, sticking his face closer to the camera. Bruce noted that his eyes were bloodshot and his face harried and haunted. He was one of Ororo's closest friends and if she'd been kidnapped it would have been terrible for him. Bruce remained expressionless.
"Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me?' He said slowly.
"It was mutant business." Logan retorted. "Plus you made it really clear that Ororo wasn't a priority for you."
Bruce recoiled. "I had a right to know." he said.
"You lost that right the second you didn't go after her when she left." Logan hissed. "Besides there was nothing you could have done. Azazel snatched her and we didn't know where he'd taken her. The last thing we needed was your rich boy problems."
Bruce closed his eyes. "She's with me." he said, glancing back to where Alfred was still working on her. "Stay out of my city."
"Wait just a-"
Bruce cut the transmission and turned back to the med table. Lowering his cowl and taking off his gloves, he went to help Alfred. It hurt him to look at her this way; weakened, gaunt.
"Wolverine said Azazel kidnapped her." He said, covering her with his cape after they finished.
"Magneto?" Alfred said. Bruce frowned. Azazel was usually in league with the metal manipulator, but it was unlike Magneto to torture fellow Mutants.
He put his fists on the edge of the table and leaned against it, surveying Ororo's breathing.
"Will the X-Men come to take her back to the institute?" Alfred
"No."
Alfred raised an eyebrow.
"Until I know what happened and why she's staying with me." He insisted.
"Perhaps it would not be wise to alienate the X-men should you have need of their assistance?" Alfred suggested.
Bruce ignored him. Slipping his arms under Ororo, he lifted her into his arms, tucking the cape securely around her. She was too light. She let out a small groan of protest and pressed her face against his chest, but didn't wake. He carried her out of the Batcave. As the clock closed behind him he heard Alfred answer his cellphone with a hushed; "Hello, Charles."
He placed Ororo on his bed and, taking off the cape, grabbed a pair of his boxers and a t shirt. He dressed her gently so as to not burst her stitches. How many times had she done the same for him? Looking at her sleeping form as he tucked her into the bed he knew why she'd gone. Why she'd had enough. He'd only seen her broken this way once and he was ready to trap her in the Manor and shut out the world to keep her from ever getting hurt.
Sitting in the chair opposite the bed he watched her while going over ways to track Azazel. What had he done to her? And why?
"You're killing yourself Bruce." She was looking down at him, standing at his bedside. Her clothes were bloodstained from helping Alfred stitch him up again. There were angry tears in her eyes.
"I'm doing what is necessary." He said.
"How is this-" she motioned to his broken ribs, broken leg and dislocated shoulder. "Necessary."
"Gotham needs me." He insisted. "You don't understand."
"You're no good to Gotham as either Batman or Bruce Wayne if you continue being so reckless." She was angry. "You should have called me."
Bruce knew she was right. Knew that he was getting too old to don the cowl and the physical exertion was beginning to weigh on him. But a part of him needed to be Batman. He knew he couldn't survive without it, just as she couldn't survive caged without the ability to fly.
"I need you too, Bruce." She said, putting her hand on his cheek. He'd frozen and looked away. She exhaled, slowly. "I need you, but I'm done having this argument. You may want to die, but I don't have to watch you do it."
She was gone. She'd left and he hadn't followed. He'd spent his life fighting to give justice to strangers but he couldn't bring himself to fight for himself and the woman he loved.
Bruce jerked awake, the dream…memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd fallen asleep. Looking over at Ororo, he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd had the dream consistently for the last few months, but each time he'd woken up to an empty bed. This time she was here. The moonlight flitering through the window glinted on her hand and Bruce felt a wrenching in his stomach as he saw that she'd kept wearing her wedding ring. He'd never taken his off; keeping it as a constant reminder of the price he'd paid for the Batman. Getting to his feet he walked over to the bed, he slipped his fingers through hers, a strange sense of tranquility flowing through him. It was almost as if a missing piece had fallen into place, making him whole.
Alfred entered the room, carrying a tray with fresh bandages, water and a thermos of soup.
"I spoke to Professor Xavier." He said, his voice hushed. Bruce didn't reply. The old butler continued. "He is relieved that Ororo is safe and has a request. While he understands your reticence towards having the X-Men come to take her to the mansion, he wonders if he could bring Ororo's son to live with his mother."
Bruce tore his eyes away from Ororo and turned to Alfred. "Her what?" he asked.
"Her son." Alfred repeated calmly. "A bright boy, according to Charles. He's only a year old." He fell silent, waiting for Bruce to do the math.
"She was pregnant when she left." He said, looking back at her. "Why wouldn't see tell me?"
"Perhaps because she didn't want another Wayne boy forced to watch his father die." Alfred suggested. Bruce stiffened.
"That wasn't her choice to make." He growled.
"A conversation better had with her." Alfred said. "After she's regained her strength." He placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Charles told me something else as well. She still loves you Bruce…leaving you was the hardest decision she ever made. There's still time to fix this."
Bruce pressed his lips into a hard line. "You just want her back here."
Alfred nodded. "It is true that the Manor does seem like a gloomy abandoned house without her around. An impression that I'm sure you agree with, Master Bruce." He glanced at Ororo. "I told Charles that he could arrive in time for afternoon tea. Hopefully Mistress Ororo will be well enough to scoff at us for being stuffy old Englishmen." Bruce felt a smile playing at his lips at the thought of his wife's singular teasing humor.
"She will." He said confidently. Alfred set the tray down and left. Bruce lay down next to Ororo and propped his head up on his arm, watching her. She was muttering in her sleep, upset, angry. She repeated whispers of "no, don't take him" and "where is he?" Bruce hesitated before taking her hand in his, she seemed to relax a bit, then let out a strangled gasp as she her face collapsed into an expression of regret. "gone." She whispered.
It wasn't until noon that she woke. She stirred slightly, then jerked up, her eyes wide, fearful, and angry.
"Ororo." Bruce said, sitting up and trying to calm her. She turned, her eyes going white and the sky outside darkening. "It's me, you're safe." She paused, tilting her head. Then the white slowly left her eyes as the sky outside cleared.
"Bruce." She said softly. Tears began falling. "I'm sorry; I fought them, but…." She collapsed in his arms. "They killed him. They killed our son."
Bruce held her. "Alfred talked to Professor Xavier. He said that the boy's still alive." He felt weird saying the boy, but he had been so thrown by the knowledge that he had a son that he hadn't thought to ask for his name. "He's alive, Ororo."
Ororo covered her mouth, her tears redoubling.
"What happened?" Bruce asked.
"Azazel." Ororo said. "He was enslaved by Mojo; a creature who lives in a parallel dimension and forces kidnapped beings to compete in gladiatorial matches. I was with Bakari when Azazel showed up…I thought he'd taken him as well. Mojo…he forced me to fight in the matches all the while promising me that I would see my son if I gave him a good show. He…every night in my cell he'd play footage of Bakari. Then…one day I demanded to see him and….he showed me a bloody body. I wasn't sure it was him, but before I could get closer, Mojo set fire to him and I lost control…" Her breathing became short and she shook. Bruce held her and placed his head on top of hers. "I… killed him and everyone who stood in my way." She said, her voice empty. "I only kept Azazel alive so I could teleport back to our dimension." She closed her eyes. "I…I killed them all." She retched and leaned over the side of the bed. Her stomach was empty so she only spit up bile. Bruce held her hair and grabbed a corner of the bedsheet to wipe her mouth. Then he grabbed a glass from the tray Alfred had brought in and poured her some water.
"Drink this." He said. "Then there's food, you need it to build up your strength."
"I killed them." she said. Bruce could only imagine what she was going through. Ororo placed value on life in all its forms. She was a strict vegetarian and only used violence when necessary. The amount of torture she must have gone through to snap and violate her beliefs was unfathomable.
"I would probably have done the same thing." He said softly as she gulped down the water.
"You don't have to lie to make me feel better." She said, her tone flat.
"If there's one person in any dimension that I would never lie to it's you." Bruce said. He opened the thermos to see that Alfred had made her favorite lentil soup. He poured it into a bowl. "Charles is coming by later and he's bringing…Bakari."
Ororo accepted the bowl, looking into it
"I wanted to tell you about him." She said. "Every day I picked up the phone to call you, but I couldn't take the chance…I didn't want him hurt like I was watching you put yourself through hell. And I knew you'd give up the cowl if I called, but I also knew that a part of you would always resent being forced." She closed her eyes. "I loved him too much and I guess I was too proud." She put a spoonful of soup into her mouth.
Bruce watched her silently before saying. "I haven't slept here in months." Ororo looked up at him in confusion. "I…couldn't. I'm not going to pretend that I've been the best husband. I've definitely not been the one you deserve. But…I could sleep here without you because ever since my parents died this has been a place to fall asleep and keep up the façade of Bruce Wayne; you made it a home." He felt a weight lift as the darkness that had settled deeper within him since her departure lightened a bit. "It was the second time in my life I'd lost a home and this time it was entirely my fault." He closed his eyes. "You're probably tired, you need to rest. Charles will be here soon."
He was about to move away when Ororo grabbed his hand. "Stay with me." She asked.
He nodded, moving to sit next to her on the bed, draping his arm across her shoulders as she leaned her head on his lap. It was a familiar position. They'd spent many nights like this when he stayed home looking over Wayne Enterprises business while she read a book, or distracted him with more interesting things than office briefs and paperwork. He didn't want this to end. He wanted those days back. He wanted to feel the sun and happiness she brough to his life; he just wasn't sure he was ready to pay the price for it.
"Why?" He asked softly. Sky blue eyes looked up into his. "Why did you come to Gotham?"
She looked away. "I wanted…when I thought Bakari was dead I wanted to be close to the only part of him that was left." She murmured. "Is there hope for us, Bruce?" She asked.
He didn't have an answer. She closed her eyes; her breathing slowed as she slipped into sleep. He didn't know how much time had passed before Alfred poked his head in.
"Professor Xavier has arrived." He said. Bruce gently shook Ororo awake. She seemed disoriented, but quickly regained her composure.
"He's here?" She asked. Bruce nodded. She tried to scramble out of bed, but swayed unsteadily on her feet. Bruce jumped up behind her and held her to help her balance.
"Slowly." He said. "You don't want to pull your stitches" Ororo glared at him. "I just want you to be careful." He said, realizing the irony of the situation. The roles really had been reversed. Alfred chuckled.
"I believe there is a metaphor about kettles and pots that is appropriate for this moment." He said.
A smile played on Ororo's lips. "Alfred, I need to see my son." She said.
The old butler nodded. "He is waiting for you in the living room."
Ororo pushed away Bruce's hand and walked to the door. The knowledge that her…their son was close seemed to have relit her determination and she drew strength from it. There was a fire burning in her eyes. Bruce followed her out of the room, ready to catch her or assist her if she needed it. The walk through the Manor to the living room was done in silence. Finally they made it to the door of the living room. Inside Professor X was sitting with Jean Grey. On the ground in front of them was a small brown skinned black haired toddler. He was holding a block in his hands that had a different color for each side. Jean was pointing to the colors and saying their names, only to giggle helplessly as the child put his mouth on the block.
Ororo had frozen in the doorway, looking at him transfixed. A small sob came out of her mouth. At the noise the boy looked up in surprise. Bruce saw that instead of his mouth's sky blue eyes he'd inherited his own darker ocean blue. "Ma?' the boy tilted his head and smiled. She rushed towards him, collapsing on her knees in front of him and gathering him in her arms.
"Forgive me." she said, pressing kisses to his face and neck, holding him tight. The boy put his arms around her neck, fisting his hand in her hair while still clutching his block.
"Ma." He repeated.
"He's been asking for you." Jean said. Ororo's shoulders shook and Bruce knew she was crying. He moved forward. As if sensing his approach Bakari looked up and stared at him. Bruce was thrown by how much the boy resembled him. He knelt behind Ororo. She turned and looked at him, then gently nudged Bakari so he would look at Bruce. He buried his head in her neck, refusing to acknowledge her request.
"He's stubborn." Ororo murmured.
"He's a Wayne." Alfred said. Bruce shot him a look, before turning his attention back to his wife and son. Holding out his hand, he watched as Bakari peeked at him. Then he handed Bruce his block.
"You asked me if there was hope." Bruce said, looking at Ororo who had fresh tears falling from her eyes at their interaction. "I'd like to believe there is."