The Little Things
Authors Note: I finally figured out how to do italics!!!!! Yay!!! I have re-posted all my chapters so that they contain italics. I apologize for not updating sooner, but evil teachers have given me piles of homework.
Since I have neglected to thank all my reviewers… I'd like to thank klucky, Guardgirl1, Twinkles, lilWolvie (thanks for reviewing twice! ^_^), Lady Jayde Une, kitkat (thanks for reviewing twice! ^_^), Lindsay, Artemisn (thanks for reviewing three times! ^_^), Icy Flame, Darlin, The Son of Logan and Ororo, Melissa Frost, Molotov, and the person who left no name and comes up in my e-mail as (). Thank you all!!
****
The next morning…
Logan woke up, unfortunately, to the sound of an alarm clock and the sound of water in the pipes. He had forgotten to set his alarm clock. Again.
While most people could sleep just fine through this soft sound, Logan's sensitive hearing wouldn't let him. The professor had suggested that they soundproof his room, but Logan had quickly dismissed the idea, as he wouldn't be able to hear if there was trouble.
And so Logan was once again woken by the sound of Scott's alarm clock. (AN: I'm assuming that Logan's room is right next to Scotts)
Logan contemplated on staying in bed, but soon realized that he wasn't that tired. Besides, he wanted to know if Ororo was all right.
With that thought in mind, Logan got out of bed, put some clothes on and made his way to the kitchen.
****
The kitchen was empty. Finding that the newspaper that Ororo usually left for him every morning was not there, he frowned. That's odd. She's never done this before. Maybe she's still asleep…not likely, but maybe. The frown never leaving his face, he walked to the front door, got the newspaper, and returned to the kitchen.
Logan poured the coffee beans in the coffee maker (another thing that he had taken for granted, the freshly brewed coffee waiting for him each morning). He then poured the water in its appropriate container and turned the machine on.
He sat down at the table just as Kitty phased through the door.
"Hi Mr. Logan." She said brightly, before opening the freezer and taking out two Eggo Strawberry Waffles. She popped them into the toaster and left to get her stuff ready. Logan opened the newspaper and read the Sports section.
Bamf
Kurt opened the fridge and got the carton of orange juice. He then got two glasses and poured the orange juice into each. He set one glass on the table just as the waffles popped up. Kurt grabbed both waffles in one hand, holding the glass in the other, and bamfed back to his room.
Kitty phased back into the kitchen just as the smoke finished dissipating.
She gave an unearthly screech before glaring at Logan. "You ate my waffles!!"
Logan glared back at her from the top of his newspaper. "The Elf took them." He said in a calm voice. He held the glare a little longer before returning his attention to the newspaper.
"Ooooh!!! I'm gonna kill him!" With that, she spun on her heal and phased back through the door.
A dulled, but nether the less, loud, "Kurt!" was heard. Logan calmly read the paper.
Next to arrive were Jean and Scott. They got their cereals and sat down. Logan toned out their conversation.
Having read the article about the prohibition of caged fighting in Canada, Logan located the remote (it was to his left, just with in reach without having to get up) and turned on the TV.
The rest of the students filed in and the dull, yet still loud, "Kurt" and bamfing were heard. The kitchen was soon filled with the noise of conversation.
Logan ignored them all and listened as the weather caster expressed her confusion at yesterday's change of a beautiful day into a huge thunderstorm.
Logan chuckled inaudibly as he listened to her obvious frustration and confusion. Damn her voice is annoying, glad my Ro could make her miserable.
All amusement abruptly fled him. Did I just think 'my Ro'? And before he could contemplate the implications of this, someone interrupted him.
"Logan?"
Logan looked at her and pushed all thoughts of Ro to the farthest corner of his mind.
"Yeah Strips?"
"Could you hand me that apple behind yoah?"
"Sure." With that, Logan turned around in his sat, unsheathed his claws into the apple and extended his hand to Rogue. She pried the apple off his claws and he sheathed them.
"Thanks Logan."
"Anytime kid."
Logan watched as the teens around him finished their breakfasts. Some, like Scott and Jean, had their backpacks with them and were heading towards the garage unhurriedly, while others, mainly Jubilee and Rahne, were running like chickens with their heads cut off trying to get everything organized.
He observed the scene with a detached disposition and waited until the kitchen was deserted. A smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulted his noise. The coffee was done.
He stood up and poured himself a cup. Just then, a very agitated looking Kitty phased into the kitchen. She grabbed the untouched glass of orange juice, gulped it down, and ran to the garage.
Two cups later, he heard the sound of the front gate closing and the sound of two cars speeding in the direction of Bayville High School.
As the house became quite again, he thought about what he should do today.
Well I guess I could repair that annoying noise in the Harley's engine. Yup, that sounds good.With that, Logan finished his third cup of coffee and made his way to garage.
****
He finished half an hour before the kids got back from school, and decided he needed to check up on Storm. He had worked non-stop since his breakfast, which was three cups of coffee. He searched the gardens and grounds, but found no sight of her. All trails of smell were at least two days old, so that didn't help. He then searched the house, even her room, came to the same conclusion.
He could only assume that she had taken to flight early in the morning and didn't want to return yet. That was understandable, considering the circumstances.
Logan, still feeling a bit apprehensive, walked down to the Danger Room and got ready for the training session that the kids would be apart of as soon as they got home from school.
****
It was the dawn before the sun rose when Ororo woke up from her nightmare. And the first thing she wanted was Logan to take her in his arms and hold her. By the Goddess, I do not even know this man and already he's becoming… becoming… what? What is he becoming?
She happened to glance at a picture of Evan and his parents that stood on vanity. Then her dream came back in full force:
"How could you Ororo, he is still a child!!!"I couldn't stop him, sister, I tried."
"You didn't try hard enough, and now I've lost my son. And it's all because of you!!!"
The last phrase echoed in her mind. 'It's all because of you!' Ororo felt the tears stream down her already raw cheeks. Ororo angrily wiped them away. She was not some helpless child or damsel in distress; she was Storm, a Goddess. I am going to find you Evan and, by the Goddess, I am going to talk some sense into your stubborn head!
With her new determination, she dressed in her X-Men uniform and flew out her bedroom balcony window into the night.
****
She had searched for hours, but no success. She continuously flew through tunnels, never stopping, but she felt like she was going around in circles. The smell was horrible in some parts, while the rats scurried all over. She hadn't brought a light, but the light streaming down through the holes in the manhole covers was enough so that she could see. The worst was that her claustrophobia was getting to her, but she pushed it aside. Her sister's words echoed in her head.
It's all because of you!Storm turned left.
It's all because of you!She flew faster.
It's all because of you!Tears streamed down her face, but she quickly wiped them away.
It's all because of you!Strom flew on.
****
When she could no longer see the hand in front of her face did she stop. The instincts she had developed when she was a pickpocket told her it was useless. For a split second she let her emotions get the best of her and flew a few feet ahead. The rational part of her brain soon caught up with her. The years of practice at controlling her powers came back in one mind-blowing thud.
Ororo sighed and saw the moonlight trickling into the sewer through the holes in the manhole cover. She used the winds to lift the cover and ascended unto the street below. The manhole cover descended onto its proper place with a loud thud.
The full moon was seen and it was plain that the sun had set, not an hour before. Ororo found herself in the alleys of the outskirts of New York. She walked through the dirty, but apparently deserted alleyway, as quickly and silently as she could.
A smell of bodily waste hit her. Ororo's curiosity got the better of her and she looked in the direction from where the smell was coming from. She wished she hadn't.
There, by the trash bin, lay a distinctively human shape. The tight tang top revealed the form to be female. Her khaki pants were wet from her urine, and a black line extended from her mouth, across her cheek, and into the darkness. It took a second for Ororo that the black was really blood. A stench of death hung in the air.
And the worst part was that her eyes were open, staring unseeingly into the night sky.
Ororo took a tentive step forward before something caught her eye. Ororo turned her head and saw a syringe. The moon's light had reflected off the needle, making it almost glow in the darkness.
The reason for the female's death became shockingly clear. She had over dosed.
Ororo couldn't take it any longer. She knew, without a doubt, that the girl was dead. Ororo felt suffocated. She took a step back, turned in the direction that she had originally planed to go, and ran. Ororo ran until she hit the main street.
She was lucky, as she saw a taxi heading her way. She signaled for it and, much to her relief, it stopped.
"Where to?" Came the question as soon as she sat down. She gave him the Institute's address. The driver nodded and pulled out.
Ororo shakily removed her boots. As soon as both boots were off, she hugged her knees to her chest. Silent tears streamed down her face. This time, she didn't bother wiping them away. Bile rose to the back of her throat, but she swallowed it, determined not to vomit.
She had seen corpses before. She had seen other people dieing. That wasn't the cause of her tears. Death was natural, part of the cycle of life. She had accepted that long ago. But there was something seriously horrible at seeing this girl die of drug over dose.
The girl couldn't have been more then thirteen years old.
****
Blame my Health teacher for the last part. We were talking about drug over dose in class today and it kind of stuck that an alarming amount of eighth graders are marijuana users. *shudders*
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