The shower had barely started when Star stirred again. Rogue moved to the side of the bed and Star looked up at her.
"Rogue?"
"'S just me, sugah. How ya doin'?"
"I'm ... sticky." Rogue laughed.
"Yeah, ya sure are. Um," she glanced toward the bathroom door. "Ya know, Wolverine's in there gettin' cleaned up, but I reckon he'll be done right quick." Star sat up and swung her feet off the bed.
"Do you think he'd mind, if I joined him?" she asked, seriously.
"Sugah, I purely do doubt that he'd mind, even a little." Star smiled and stood up, glancing down at herself for the first time.
"Yuck. Where did all this come from?"
"Ya don't remember?"
"Not...really."
"Well, maybe Wolverine can fill ya in later." Rogue shooed Star toward the bathroom. "Y'all'd better hurry up, or yer gonna be showerin' alone." Star opened the bathroom door, turning to see Rogue grin at her as she left the room. Star closed the door behind her. Wolverine stuck his head out of the shower.
"Rogue, is Star ... Star!" She stepped quickly into the shower, and into his arms. The water cascaded over them both. His body was slick with soap as he bent his head to kiss her. She returned his kiss with passion and he dropped the soap. Laughing, she retrieved it and began to lather his chest. He turned her so that the water ran over her, sluicing the dried blood from her hair and body. He took the soap from her and began to wash her, his powerful hands gentle and loving.
He stepped out of the shower and reached for the towels on the shelf. He unfolded one and wrapped it around her, gently drying her shoulders and back. She took the second towel and, reaching around him, began to dry his back. He pulled her close once more and held her against him for a long moment before releasing her. She kissed the hollow of his throat before moving away.
"Star," he said as they dressed. "Ya told me ta ask ya again in a week, and its been a mite longer 'n that, but I wanna ask ya now, if ya'd marry me."
"Logan," she looked up at him, her blue eyes serious, "I love you, and I would be proud to be your wife."
"I'll be damned," was all he said as he took her in his arms once more.
They were married three days later. They returned to the mansion, Wolverine having decided that since there had been no word of Lady Deathstrike, it was too hazardous to go elsewhere for their honeymoon. He was unwilling to risk her safety again. Together, they moved into a large room.
Star still remembered very little about the time she had been incapacitated. Her last clear memory was of her 'fight' with Wolverine, a fact which disturbed him, but seemed to actually amuse her.
"Logan," she told him, "you came back to me, what difference does anything else make?"
"Star..."
"Please, my love," she smiled at him impishly. "I have forgotten it, why can't you." He finally got it through his head that she really didn't care.
Jean worked with Star to recover as many of her memories as possible, but there were very few actual memories available. Star had existed in a fog, moving from one physical sensation to another with little or no thought involved, or indeed even possible considering the brain damage she had suffered. As they drew nearer to the present, to the end of the time Star had spent at Maple Woods, her memories consisted almost entirely of sadness, and a sense of abandonment. After one such session, Rogue found her sitting alone on the back deck, weeping bitterly.
"What's the matter, sugah?" Rogue asked, hurrying to take the younger woman in her arms.
"These memories ... that Jean's ... unlocking, they're nothing but feelings. There's nothing to tie 'em down, nothing to explain them. And they won't go away!" she sobbed brokenly.
"Well, you don't hafta remember, ya know. Just tell Jean ya don't want ta do any more o' these memory searches, and she'll quit, I promise."
"I can't, Rogue."
"Well, why on earth not, sugah?"
"I have to be certain Lady Deathstrike didn't leave a time bomb ticking in my head. Yes, I know she planned to kill me, but there was always the chance that we'd escape, that Logan would rescue me."
"All right, sugah, ya got a point. But Jean can block you again once she's checked yer memories."
"Wouldn't that leave a ... a hole?"
"Yeah, it would. But sometimes a hole's better'n tryin' ta cope with all the pieces at once. It took ya months ta get all the pieces, it might take ya months ta handle 'em all."
"And we don't have months to look for a bomb."
"Nope. Ya want me ta talk ta Jean fer ya?"
"No, thank you. I think I'd better do that myself." Star sat up and looked around. "I missed the whole spring, didn't I?"
"Yeah, sugah, I guess ya did. But there's a whole new spring scheduled fer next year, and you'll get ta see what ya missed then."
"I hope so." Star was silent.
"You feelin' better now?"
"Yes."
"Well, don't forget ta talk ta Jean. She'll take care of ya."
"All right."
Jean carefully blocked Star's conscious remembrance of her final days at Maple Woods. Lady Deathstrike had begun to inflict physical, as well as mental, anguish on her helpless victim. Star had withdrawn into a sea of unrelenting despair. When she finally found what she was looking for, Jean nearly missed it, as Star had barely been aware at all at the time.
Lady Deathstrike, masquerading as Keiko, entered Star's room with a lunch tray. She put it on the small table near the door and stalked over to where Star sat apathetically staring out the window. She slapped Star and the girl reluctantly focused on her tormentor.
"I spoke with your precious Logan, Star. He is quite pleased that you will not burden him for much longer. Caring for you has grown tiresome for us all." Star shrank ever further into herself as Deathstrike told her how much Wolverine hated her, how he wished her dead, and how he had sent Keiko to finish her if she hadn't the decency to die quietly and quickly on her own. "This will prevent anyone from stopping you," she said, grasping Star's arm with cruel fingers. Star barely flinched as the flesh of her arm was punctured. Jean didn't know exactly what was done, because Star never even glanced down as Deathstrike continued her liturgy of hate, her voice fading from Star's conscious mind, buried too deeply for Jean to recover her words.
"Henry, do a close scan of her right arm. Deathstrike put something in her, but I don't know what," Jean said suddenly. "Star, wake up dear, I think we have found what we were looking for."
"What is it?" Star asked, waking completely as Beast examined her arm with the portable scanner.
"There is some sort of capsule in your arm, Star. It seems to be partially enveloped in the bone, though I don't understand how..."
Star shuddered as painful memories came flooding back. She had been peripherally aware of Wolverine's presence, but this had only caused her to withdraw even further. There was no memory of their flight through the building, and only a vague sense of the surrounding woods as he'd attempted to carry her to safety. His quiet words and his gentle hands had begun to break through to her when he'd suddenly left her alone in the darkness. She'd stayed exactly where he'd left her until the Reaver found her. He'd caught her by the arm and yanked her to her feet, dragging her through the underbrush after him, heedless of the injuries inflicted on her bare legs by the thorny growths. He shoved her into the back of a van and slammed the doors. She was bumped and jostled about as the van began to move.
At last, the van stopped. The doors opened, but Star didn't look up. A Reaver stepped into the back of the van and dragged her out. She stumbled and he hit her, knocking her to the ground. She lay where she had fallen, making no move to rise. He kicked her.
"Get up, you stupid bitch," he snarled. When she didn't respond, he kicked her again.
"Take her inside, you fool. Lock her up and come back to help with him. You'll have time for her later." The Reaver nodded and lifted Star from the ground. He carried her inside and down a flight of stairs. He dumped her roughly in a bare room and left, closing a heavy metal door behind him, leaving her alone in the darkness.
Later, the door opened and Lady Deathstrike and the Reaver entered.
"Hello, Star," Deathstrike said, her voice smooth and caressing. Star lifted her head in response to the familiar voice. Deathstrike hit her, a vicious backhanded blow that knocked her to the floor.
"Every time you touch her, I want it to leave a mark," she told the Reaver. "I want her to look her best when he awakens."
"Yes, ma'am. It'll be a pleasure." Deathstrike closed the door behind her, leaving Star and the Reaver in the dark.
"You can't see me, can you girl?" he asked. "But I can see you." He slapped her, almost playfully. He pulled her to her feet then released her. She stood motionless as he walked around her. He struck her suddenly and she doubled over in pain. He caught her by the hair and yanked her upright, slapping her. "Isn't this fun?" he snarled in her ear as she gasped for breath. He continued to beat her until she was unable to stand. He lifted her from the floor and hurled her across the room. Her head struck the wall with a sickening crack, and she fell, unconscious and beyond his reach, to the floor.
"Star, are you all right?" Beast was asking, his voice concerned.
"Yes, I'm all right. I was just ... remembering." She cleared her throat. "The Reaver broke my arm. When my healing factor ... kicked in, it healed. I guess the capsule was in the way."
"An interesting hypothesis. The material is impervious to my scanner. I can not tell what may be contained within."
"Take it out."
"Star, it is encased in the bone. I would have to break your arm to remove it."
"Do it. As long as that thing is in there, I could be a danger to you all." Beast and Jean exchanged a glance, then Beast nodded. He reached for the surgical instruments while Jean got the neural inhibitor.
"What is that?" Star asked.
"Its a neural inhibitor," Beast told her. "Since you are immune to our anesthetics, I asked a friend to come up with an alternative. It works quite well."
"You've used it on me?"
"Yes, dear," he glanced at Jean. "You don't remember?"
"No."
"It was while you were ill, Star," Jean told her. "Your memories of that time are very confused."
"How does it work?"
"I can tell you what it does, but for how, you will have to speak to Forge."
"All right. What does it do?"
"It slows your brain activity to the point of unconsciousness, preventing any pain impulses from reaching you." Star swallowed.
"You won't remove the capsule without it?"
"Absolutely not." She looked at the device in Jean's hands. It was no larger than a child's headband.
"All right."
"Just lie back and relax," Jean told her, as they fitted her with sensor pads before putting the metal band across her forehead. "It'll be just like going to sleep. Ready?" At Star's slight nod, Beast switched the unit on. Star sighed and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her hands, clenched together in her lap, relaxed and dropped to her sides. Beast examined the sensor readings then turned to Star. He cleaned the surface of her arm and then, pinpointing the location of the capsule buried in the bone of her arm, he made an incision. Jean kept the area clear for him as he probed the wound.
"Ah, I have it. Jean, the bone saw, please." She handed him the instrument and he began to cut the bone away from the offending object.
"Henry."
"Yes, Jean?"
"Her temperature has begun to rise."
"How high?"
"Its up to one hundred and one already."
"Its always one surprise after another with this girl. The wound isn't trying to close, either."
"One hundred and two." Beast didn't say anything as he worked silently to free the capsule from the surrounding bone.
"One hundred three."
"There! That's got it!" He withdrew the capsule from Star's arm. As the gray cylinder came free of her flesh, the surface began to hiss and bubble.
"Oh, my stars and..." Beast began, turning away from Jean and Star. The capsule exploded. The force hurled Beast backwards into the table on which Star rested, while the concussion knocked Jean from her feet. Beast slumped to the floor, his chest a bloody ruin.
Star sat up and blinked in confusion, the inhibitor jarred loose when Beast hit the table. She glanced around, unable to see either Jean or Beast. Jean made a small noise behind her, and she turned toward the sound.
"Jean?" She swung her feet off the table as she turned and her foot brushed Beast's body. She looked down.
"Henry!" Star nearly fell from the table when her right arm refused to support her. She glanced at it, but the wound was beginning to close. She knelt beside Beast as Jean moved up next to her. Together, the two women tried to stop the bleeding, but the damage was too severe. Jean reached into Beast's mind to block the pain. Star put one hand over one of the wounds in his chest, trying to block the gaping hole, willing him to be all right as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Ahh," he moaned and Jean looked up sharply. Star snatched her hand away, afraid that she had caused him further pain. The wound under her hand had closed.
"No, Star! Don't stop!"
"What...?"
"Whatever you were doing was helping him. Don't stop!" Star quickly put both hands on Beast's chest, the right one still not responding completely, and closed her eyes. Jean extended her senses until she could actually feel the tissue knit together.
The door of the lab opened and Jean quickly gestured for the other X-Men to remain outside. She couldn't allow Star to be distracted.
Beast sighed and opened his eyes. He looked up at Star, kneeling beside him. His eyes followed her arms down to his chest. He watched, without comprehension, as her blood flowed down her right arm to mingle with the blood on his chest. Waves of warmth spread outward through his body from her hands. He languidly turned his head and looked at Jean.
"Don't fight her, Henry. You've been badly hurt. Relax and let Star take care of you," she said to him, still linked with his mind to block the pain.
"Wouldn't if I could. Its an ... incredible sensation."
A few moments later Star removed her hands from his chest and slowly opened her eyes. They blazed silver for an instant, then faded to blue as she looked down at him.
"Henry?"
"I ... believe I am ... a great deal more intact than I was a few minutes ago." Jean helped him sit up and the other X-Men entered the lab. Rogue and Gambit helped Beast into the chair Jubilee pulled up. Wolverine gently pulled a dazed Star to her feet.
"What happened?" Cyclops asked.
"There was an explosive buried in Star's arm, Scott," Jean answered. "It was activated when Henry removed it. He took the brunt of the explosion."
"Fortunately for me," Beast interrupted, "Star has exhibited yet another aspect of her remarkable abilities."
"She was able to extend her healing to Henry," Jean finished. "She undoubtedly saved his life."
Star sagged against Wolverine and he eased her quickly into a chair. Her arm was bleeding again. Beast tried to get up to help her, but Storm pushed him back into the chair.
"I will care for Star, Henry. You stay here." Storm turned to Star and examined the wound in her arm.
"You seem to have overtaxed yourself, child. I will bandage this until you are rested enough to heal yourself." Star nodded and Storm gently wrapped the bandaging around her arm. "That should take care of you, dear. Wolverine," she said, "put her to bed. She needs to rest." Storm and Wolverine removed the sensor pads that were still in place on Star's body, and Wolverine helped her from the lab. When they reached the stairs, he lifted her into his arms.
"I can walk, Logan," she protested.
"Sure ya can, darlin'," he answered. "But what's the point?" She put her uninjured arm around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs. He put her carefully into their bed and drew the light blanket up over her. She struggled to remain awake.
"Go ta sleep, darlin'. Ya'll feel better when ya wake up." She sighed and looked up at him.
"I love you, Logan." Her eyes closed. He smoothed her hair and kissed her gently.
"I love you, Star," he whispered, for she was already asleep. He watched her for a while, then quietly left their room, closing the door behind him.
When Wolverine returned later that evening, Star was still sleeping. He got into bed quietly, trying not to disturb her. She murmured in her sleep and turned toward him without waking. He put his arms around her and drew her close. She sighed, but did not wake.
In the wee hours of the morning Star cried out and Wolverine woke with a start. Star was trembling violently.
"What's wrong, darlin'?" he asked her gently, reaching for her. She cringed when he touched her.
"Star?"
"L..Logan?"
"I'm here, babe." She turned toward him in the bed and moved closer until his arms encircled her, though she was unable to suppress the shudder that ran through her body when his hands met her flesh. He didn't say anything. He just held her and waited. Slowly, her trembling eased.
"Logan?" she finally said, softly.
"Yeah?"
"Why did he, I mean, the Reaver, why did he ... enjoy ... hurting me? I understand why he did it, but ... how can anyone ... enjoy hurting someone?" Wolverine tightened his arms around her, wishing he could protect her from the memory of what had been done to her.
"I don't know, darlin'. Some people just ... ain't right. They get their kicks from hurtin' other folks." He stroked her cheek with one hand. "But he's dead, darlin'. He can't hurt you, or anybody else, ever again." Star sighed and snuggled closer. Soon, cradled in the protection of his arms, she slept again. He lay awake until after the sun rose and she stirred once more.
Beast was still weak from the blood he had lost, so Star had the lab to herself the next day. She called up the records of yesterday's events and examined them minutely, trying to understand how she had healed him. She found a reference in her files to a mutant whose only ability was to heal the sick or injured. He was listed as one of her parents, so she supposed that was where she had gotten the ability, though she still didn't know how it worked. Hopefully, she wouldn't have any cause to use it again, anytime soon. She copied her files to a disc so she wouldn't have to trouble Beast when she wanted to study it.
Though for the most part she didn't remember them, she had nightmares nearly every night. She often woke to find Wolverine's arms around her, his eyes concerned. She refused to talk to anyone about her dreams. Or what had been done to her while she and Wolverine had been captive. Shame was a new emotion for her, and she didn't understand how to cope with the feelings that came with her memories. She understood that she was not to blame for the actions of others, but she felt soiled.
Things in the X-Mansion were soon back to normal. Beast returned to his lab, and Star returned to her training. She had lost a lot of ground during her illness. Her muscles lacked tone and strength, and she had little endurance in the Danger Room. Wolverine helped her, carefully regulating her toning and strengthening exercises, and strictly limiting her Danger Room training to what he felt she was ready for.
Several weeks had passed before Wolverine was ready to allow her unlimited access to the Danger Room, but finally he agreed that she was ready.
"All right, darlin'. Keep yer eyes open, this ain't no hologram." She nodded and he opened the door, admitting her to the Danger Room. Alone.
She stood next to the door, waiting for the program to begin. He hadn't told her anything of what she was to face. Her precognition hadn't manifested since her illness, and she supposed it had gone the way of her telepathic and telekinetic powers.
"Its nice to have a back up," she thought to herself. "Though I don't know how much a healing factor is going to help me with whatever is going to happen here." She laughed nervously, "hopefully, I won't need it." There was a sudden noise behind her and she turned quickly toward it. A small cat looked at her from the top of a garbage can in the alley in which she had found herself upon entering the Danger Room. The cat slipped down from the can and disappeared down the alley. Star straightened and consciously slowed her heart and breathing, though they remained far above normal. If she was too wound up when the danger did appear, she would be unable to react properly. And that could get her killed.
She moved out of the alley, into the street. There was nothing visible, other than the usual clutter of a late night street. The street light to her right was out and she turned away from the darkness instinctively, moving quietly and cautiously in the other direction.
"She still fears the dark." Jean said to Wolverine as they watched Star from the control room.
"Looks that way," he answered, never taking his eyes off the tiny woman winding her way through the darkened streets of the Danger Room below them.
"Are you certain she is ready for this?"
"As ready as she's gonna get." He turned to Jean for a moment. "She's gotta face it some time. This ain't somethin' anybody else can help her with, 'specially if she won't talk about it." Jean didn't answer and Wolverine turned back to watch Star.
She was beginning to relax in spite of herself when she caught a hint of movement from down one of the side streets. She turned that way, but whatever she had seen was gone.
She turned down the side street, determined to find whatever she had seen. A few yards from the corner, there was an alley. She looked down it warily, but didn't see anything. She had just turned from the alley when there was a great crash from behind her. She whirled, but it was just the cat again. She was about to move on when she heard a voice from very close behind her.
"Yer still not a bad looking sheila." Star froze, then, with her heart in her throat, she turned slowly toward the voice. She had unconsciously ducked when she'd heard his voice and when she turned, the first thing she saw was his feet. She forced her gaze up, along his body. He was a tall man, and she had to tilt her head far back to see his face. He was grinning down at her.
"You still a party girl?" he asked, stepping forward. Star couldn't move. She stared up at him, her face expressionless, but her eyes wide with terror.