DISCLAIMER Don't own them.
…
"A werewolf?"
"That's what he said, "Jean replied. Professor Xavier looked intrigued.
"I still have trouble believe werewolves are real," Scott Summers commented. His eyes were invisible behind his dark red sunglasses. Those glasses kept his destructive mutant power under control. "How do we know he's telling the truth and not just crazy?"
"We know." Jean's immediate response was so sure that it put any further argument over Oz's sincerity to rest.
"What do we do?" Ororo Munroe asked. Her ability to control the weather earned her the nickname "Storm." She was a soft-spoken African woman who provided the spirit of their team.
"Oz came here looking for me," Jean said. "Looking for someone who had researched mutation. I think something went wrong. The werewolf may be getting too strong for him."
"But how do we deal with him?" Scott asked. "Has anyone ever had experience with a werewolf? All that I've ever heard about them comes from fairy tales."
"We've helped kids with all forms of violent mutations," Storm pointed out. "A werewolf shouldn't be too much more than we can handle."
"We need to learn more about him," Professor Xavier said. "In order to help him, we must know as much about the werewolf as possible."
"Do you want me to go get him?" Scott asked, moving for the door.
"No." The Professor moved from his desk. "Let him rest for the evening. He has travelled a long way to get to us."
Scott nodded and left the office, sensing that the meeting was over. Storm and Jean quickly followed. Scott went to put his arm around Jen, but she shrugged it off. He gave her a puzzled look. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She didn't say another word, just retreated to her and Scott's bedroom. It was a lie. She hated lying to Scott, but she could not express how strongly she could still sense Oz's pain.
Since their recent battle at Liberty Island, Jean's powers seemed to have intensified. She knew a person's mood instantly upon knowing them. Oz's pain was strong enough to reverberate throughout the entire mansion. Every once and a while, Jean could hear a girl's voice: "Oz…don't you love me?" She figured that it had to be a particularly strong memory.
It was early, but Jean was exhausted. She sank down onto the bed gratefully. By the time Scott walked in, she was asleep.
…
That night, Oz dreamt of that horrible day in the science lab. Everything in the dream was the same as it had happened. Veruca backhanded Willow and sent her sprawling on the floor. Oz burst in the door. "Don't touch her again," he growled.
"Come stop me. I like it rough, remember?"
Oz caught Willow's distraught look and winced. "You want to hurt me? Hurt me. You leave her out of this."
Veruca's eyes shone with lust. "How can I? She's the reason you're living in cages! She's blinding you! When she's gone, you'll be able to admit what you are."
Blood boiled in his veins as the sun sank past the horizon and the wolf began to surface. "You don't want to know what I am."
"You're an animal." Veruca's face contorted as she changed. "Animals kill."
"You're right." Oz's voice was barely human anymore. "We kill."
But instead of attacking Veruca as he had done in real life, the dream Oz and Veruca turned toward Willow. Together the two wolves advanced on the cowering witch. Oz could taste her blood as they ripped her throat out.
He awoke with a cry, terrified. It felt so real. He had tasted her blood. A sob escaped his throat.
"Calm down," came a soft voice. Oz turned sharply to see a dark-skinned woman sitting by his door. She smiled gently at him and Oz was increasingly glad that he had decided to wear an old Dingoes t-shirt to bed.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, sounding harsher than he intended.
"You were crying out in your sleep," the woman replied. Indicating something over Oz's head, she added, "You are not the first. Logan slept in this room and he too had violent nightmares."
Oz turned around to see an air vent over his head. "Oh." He sat against the headboard with an embarrassed look on his face. "Who are you?"
"My name is Ororo." She smiled. "You can call me Storm if you like."
"Storm?" Oz was confused. "Okay, stop me if this sounds crazy, but people here aren't exactly normal, are they?"
Storm raised an eyebrow. "This coming from a werewolf?"
"Point taken."
She laughed. "You are correct, though. We are not 'normal.'" Pausing, she seemed to be deciding how best to continue. "You came here looking for Jean."
"Yeah." Oz nodded. "I read that she was an expert on mutation and I'm kind of on this quest to learn more about the wolf so I can tame it, I guess. I was hoping she could help."
Storm considered that. "You are right. Jean is an expert on mutation. Every one of us here is what normal people call a mutant."
"A mutant? What's that?"
She looked surprised. "Are you not aware of the 'mutant problem'?" She sounded biter. "It's been going on for the past few years."
Oz shook his head. "Sunnydale's kind of self-involved. We had enough of our own problems. Didn't really need to pay attention to everyone else's."
"Well, mutants are humans with a slightly different genetic code. This genetic change manifests itself through what appear to be special powers. I am called Storm because I can control the weather."
"Huh." Oz took a moment to process this. "And everyone here is a mutant? Even the students?"
She laughed softly. "That is the point of the school. We provide a safe environment for child and teenage mutants to get an education and learn to control their powers."
"Oh."
"Your situation is different than those we've dealt with in the past, but the Professor will know what to do." Storm stood up and smiled. "Try to sleep now. Your dreams will not plague you anymore tonight."
Oz nodded gratefully. "Good night," he said as she was leaving. He buried himself under the blanket again and was asleep within minutes.