Sorry. I feel like that word is literally always at the beginning of my chapters. My bad. Anyways, yeah I know this took forever, but give me a break. I am literally writing this chapter by chapter and have NO IDEA where I'm going. I was afraid this chapter was going to be extremely short, but it actually is one of my longest ones. Little Logan, but way more Ororo and Amara bonding. Please leave a review, let me know how I'm doing, whether you like it, hate it, hate me, wanna throw me off a bridge you know the usual. But if you could, if you have a suggestion for things to happen in the story in the future, whether plot lines or simple one liners, I'll do my best to incorporate them. Anyways sorry for ranting, and now for our regularly scheduled program…
Amara
All three mutants just sat and stared at the figure on the bed. Amara had sat up, and was gently rubbing her temple with her left hand.
"What the fuck happened? I feel like I got ran over by a bus. Twice." She attempted to remove the IV in her arm, but was stopped as a sharp pain shot through her right side, starting at her shoulder. She glanced down and saw the blood soaked hole in her shirt, and images of what happened flashed through her mind. The forest. The battle. The pain. The man. The shot…
Her eyes widened in panic and both her hands rushed to her head. She winced at the pain, but otherwise ignored it. She gingerly traced her face, searching for where the bullet hit.
"It didn't hit ya."
She stopped her search and focused on Logan quizzically.
"The bullet, it didn't hit ya. Somethin' stopped it."
"How the fuck is that possible, the bastard had it pointed right at me…?"
"We have no idea either, Amara," Ororo said, walking over to the bed gingerly and sitting next to her, "But whatever it was, it saved your life."
She patted her fingers comfortingly and gave her a small smile. Amara did not know much about these people, but she knew she liked this woman. She had such compassion and kindness in her. Amara has met a lot of bad people in her lifetime, and none of them had a heart for complete strangers, not like this woman. Maybe it won't be so bad here, she thought. Wait, where was here anyways?
"Where the fuck am I?"
Ororo winced at the woman's language, again, and answered, "Westchester, New York. This is the medical bay underneath the school."
"Xavier's school?"
Ororo nodded , "Yes, child. Though the bullet was indeed stopped by some unknown force, the impact it carried still hit you, knocking you into unconsciousness. We snuck you past the rest of the men and brought you here to tend to your wounds," She glanced at Logan and returned her gaze to Amara.
Amara remained silent, also regarding the man before her. Logan had his arms crossed and the vibe he expressed was a mixture between distrust and relief. Amara tried to turn her gaze away, but her eyes had a mind of their own. They wouldn't stop taking in everything about his form, the muscle in his arms and how they flexed in tension underneath his shirt. His scowl actually complemented his features, but Amara would be lying if she said she didn't want to see him smile again. Stop it, she thought. You know what this man is, what he's capable of. Remember what he fucking did to you. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him.
"The fuck are you doing here?"
Logan seemed taken aback by her question, and she could have sworn she saw hurt register across his face. But it only lasted for a moment, and it was replaced with anger.
"Tha fuck ya just say ta meh?"
"I don't think I fucking stuttered. And I know all animals have a heightened sense of hearing, so I know you damn well heard me."
Logan growled and took a threatening step towards her.
"Ya wanna try pissing meh off again, woman? Next time I won't be so nice."
Amara smirked and brought her head back defiantly, "Neither will I, shithead."
The air was tense, both of them curling their fists and glaring daggers at each other, daring the other one to make the first move. Hank quickly intervened, grabbing Logan shoulders from behind. Logan closed his eyes and took a few breaths, checking his temper. After a few moments he opened them again, and with one last glower, shrugged Hank's grasp off and shouldered his way through the door. Good riddance, Amara thought. After watching Logan's exit, her eyes focused on movement from the shadows where Logan had been standing.
"Let's just calm down, ok? Amara, I would like to check your vitals again if you don't-"
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"
Hank had emerged from the darkness, and a look of sheer terror erupted on Amara's face.
"Dude, you're- you're- you're motherfucking blue! And furry? You're huge. What the actual fuck…"
Hank took a tentative towards her but stopped as Amara's body cowered away from him.
"If you're gonna eat me, at least put some damn seasoning on me; I won't be so smooth going down. Maybe put me over a nice fire, get my flesh nice and tender, you know that fall off the bone texture-"
Ororo placed a calming hand on Amara's arm.
"Amara, this is Hank McCoy. He's been taking care of you. As you can see, he is also a mutant. Only difference is his mutation is more physical than the rest of ours."
Amara glanced at the man, or better yet, beast before her. She took in his size and shuddered to think of the raw strength he must have. But then she stared into his eyes, and he saw the same thing as she did in Ororo's. Compassion. Worry. It didn't matter that she just insulted him; he still cared about the well being of a complete stranger. What drugs are these people on, she thought.
Amara mumbled a quiet sorry and began surveying her surroundings. Suddenly she shuddered and felt goose bumps rise over her skin. She took a deep breath and gasped at the white cloud she breathed out. She noticed how the room was dark, except for the few shards of sunlight escaping through the windows, and she wondered why there was this blue tint coming off of, well, everything.
As if reading her thoughts, Hank said, "While you were out, Amara, your forehead was freezing. We called our telepath Emma to see if she could understand what was going on, and some type of psychic battle ensued…"
She distantly remembered the nightmares, being trapped in a box by herself, hearing her father's screams of pain, it was just so cold… She mentally shook her head trying to dispel the horrors. Focusing back to Hank, she caught the tail end of his explanation.
"… And from what Logan said, Emma was thrown away from you and was pretty shaken. We can only assume that it was intense. Your subconscious caused multiple earthquakes all across the grounds, knocking the power out. You brought Emma into your nightmare, and I think you tried to bring us as well." He gestured around the room, and finally she understood what was giving the room such a blue hue. It was ice, no wonder why she was cold. Just like-
"I projected my nightmare?"
"From the evidence left over, I believe you did, yes." Hank uttered regrettably, his eyes conveying so much sympathy Amara had to look away.
"If you could share with us, child, what has you so wound up we could help you-"
"Don't. Don't do that. I can handle shit on my own." Amara hated feeling pitied, like she needed someone's sympathy. Her past lacked it, and she was sure she could survive the future without it.
Hank sighed and rubbed his face with his paw.
"Have it your way, but I do still need to check how your wounds are healing, if that is okay with you?"
Amara ignored the spite in Hank's tone and answered, "Can I just- Can I just have a second? You know, just to, um..." She gestured in circles around her head, and Hank understood immediately.
"Of course, when you need me just call, I'll be right next door."
He quickly exited through the same door Logan did, and Amara waited a few seconds, listening to his footsteps recede. Ororo gave Amara's arm a final squeeze and made to leave. She was stopped abruptly by the iron grip Amara had on her wrist. She looked into Amara's eyes questioningly and slowly returned to her seat.
"What the fuck is this place?" Amara hissed, her fingers digging into Ororo's wrist menacingly.
Ororo huffed impatiently, quickly answering, "Xavier's School-"
"Not that! You know what the hell I'm talking about. What the fuck do you guys want with me?"
Ororo struggled in her grasp, and her face switched from compassion to frustration to all out hostility as she fought harder and harder to be let go.
"Release me at once!"
"Not until you give me some answers."
Ororo continued to struggle, and when she realized how truly stuck she was, her eyes began to change.
"Let. Me. GO!" Thunder clapped outside and the hairs on Amara's arms rose at the energy in the room. She distinctly remembered back when she first met Logan and Ororo, when the woman had tried to rein in the storm she was creating. This woman controls the weather, and she's about to electrocute me, she surmised. Panic crossed her features, but as that thought sunk in, something altered within her. Her head had that throbbing again, and she felt her eyes change. In a few moments, just as fast as the electricity in the room increased, it had diminished.
The look on Ororo's face was priceless: a mixture of shock and indignation. Then it twisted into something akin to dismay, and Ororo hung her head defeatedly. Amara may not have a full handle on her powers, but was stronger than her nonetheless.
A pang of guilt ran through Amara's psyche. This woman had been nothing but kind and understanding to her, and here she was being an asshole keeping her hostage for no reason. All the woman had to do was scream and the blue ball of power would come bursting in and rip Amara to shreds. But she didn't. Even when Amara was silently threatening her, this woman did not rise to the challenge. She was obviously a person of high morals and respect, and Amara was ashamed of her actions and of her behavior. She immediately released and winced at the mark she left on the woman's wrist.
"Look, I'm sorry lady alright? I didn't mean to- I mean I did but not like- Shit." Amara looked away and took a deep breath. Even though she had released her, Ororo had stayed in her seat, absentmindedly rubbing her wrist and giving Amara her full attention. Amara took another deep breath and began.
"What I'm trying to fucking say is that I'm scared shitless and don't understand what the hell is going on and would like some goddamn answers so I can stop having a motherfucking mini heart attack so when the lone survivor of the blue man's group comes in here he doesn't think I'm fucking dying and tries to give me CPR or something and end up breaking my fucking sternum thus effectively killing me and next thing you know he's using my goddamn bones as toothpicks."
Amara glanced up at the woman nervously, peering through her lashes looking for any signs of anger or pessimism. The woman's face was unreadable for a few beats, and Amara worried she had put her foot in her mouth for the last time. Then a huge grin silenced her doubts and loud laughter cut through the silence. The woman began holding her sides, tears streaming down her face.
"Mini heart attack… lone survivor of the blue man's group… bones as toothpicks…" Ororo really could not stop laughing, and her chuckles grew louder and louder in volume, causing Hank to open the door and raise an eyebrow in question.
"Everything alright in here?"
Ororo struggled to contain herself, gasping for air. It took her a few tries, each successful until she muttered a line from Amara's outburst and was laughing all over again. Finally, she was breathing semi- normally and had the majority of her chortles under control.
"Everything is fine, Hank. I just think that Amara may have the best sense of humor I've ever heard."
Hank chuckled and answered, "Then she'll fit in just fine. Just don't tell Bobby, or she'll find herself in a comedic battle every time she sees him."
He gave Amara a large smile as he closed the door behind him, leaving the two alone once again. The silence was short lived, and Amara quickly began another apology before Ororo cut her off.
"It's okay. I should have known better, especially from my own experiences."
"What do you mean?"
"Well when Charles first found me, though I was over ten years younger than you, I lashed out just the same. Charles even had to shut me down when I came dangerously close to hurting a few of his other students." Ororo got this distant look in her eye, remembering those past moments fondly.
"So what is it that you want from me? For real this time, none of this 'we only want to help you' bullshit." Amara's question brought Ororo back swiftly, and she frowned.
"I do not know what has happened in your past, and I hope in the future you will be comfortable enough and trust me enough to share with me. But either way, you must know we are not like the people who may have harmed you. This school is not just a place for young mutants to learn how to control their powers; it's a home. A place free from society's disapproving eye and judgmental ways. When I told you we wanted to help you, I meant it."
Amara's head was down, and her fingertips idly traced the patterns on the comforter.
"But that's not how the world fucking works. You do something for me; I have to do something for you. That's what keeps this planet fucking spinning." Nothing comes for free in this world. Not for nobody. And that's what you are my dear. A nobody. Amara shook her head and balled her hands into fists.
Ororo noticed the change in the woman's demeanor, and quickly found a way to reach a compromise.
"I know what you can do in return."
Amara looked up with eyes filled with unshed tears. She blinked a few times and they disappeared as if they were never there. She brought her shoulders back, grimacing at the pain. Her body spoke of defiance and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. I knew it, she thought. I fucking knew it.
"And what the hell would that be?"
Ororo glared back and answered, "Well two things: one, you let us help you. No resistance, so complaining. You believe us that we really do want to assist you with control and mastery over your powers, and you don't push us and the first place you've been able to call home in years away. Do you want to go back to the street? Because I've been there, and you and I both know it's a hard life that ends in two ways: death or jail. You've already done one. Do you want to do the other?"
Amara considered what the woman was proposing. Though part of her was screaming this was a trap, the other part, the deeper part, knew it wasn't. No one was this good at manipulation, especially not this strong and regal woman before her. And if she was honest with herself, she was tired. Tired of being hungry, of being eyed shamelessly, of being groped. Tired of fighting every second of every day. Hell, she was tired of being tired. And on top of that, she was horrified at the power she wielded. She knew she couldn't control it, even if she tried her best.
Her shoulders slumped with defeat and Ororo smiled.
"Fine. What the fuck else do you want from me? My soul? My first born child? What?"
Ororo chuckled and shook her head vigorously. "No, maybe another time. The second thing I'd like you to is give Bobby's title of comedic genius a run for its money."
Amara's mouth gaped at Ororo's admission. Did the weather witch just make a joke? Seriously, what was in these people's water supply?
After the initial shock, Amara nodded her head and smirked. "It's in the bag."
"Excellent."
Ororo got up from the bed and mentioned going to get Hank. Amara nodded and looked down as Ororo went for the door. She remembered something and her head shot back up.
"Ororo?"
The woman paused, her hand on the handle, and turned to the figure on the bed.
"Yes Amara?"
"I just have one more question."
Ororo waited expectantly, and Amara took her silence as a sign to continue.
"What kind of medical wing has a fucking bed? And follow up to that, a bed with these shitty sheets? Whoever picked these should be fired."
