Ororo's Deathbed [2]
Author's Notes: We see a bit of Remy/Ororo in [1]. Now we see a bit of Logan/Ororo in [2]. Still rated PG, merely for weak violence. Beside character development, the plot unravels a bit too, but is still extremely vague.
...Continued
Storm's body flew through the air, aloft on the winds, with her white eyes gazing around with freedom. Under the white clouds were the beautiful surroundings of her African pride lands. Her white hair flowed freely and her body was not encased in an X-Men tainted uniform, which forbade her to escape the laws of a peaceful cause. Instead she was clad in a rag-like two- piece garment, which displayed her legs, arms, and stomach area. Her eyes remained a white freedom even as she began to lose altitude and her heart began pounding. "Winds why do you fail me? I have not yet commanded you to loosen your grip! By the--!" she exclaimed as her body fell into a dark void only illuminated in part by swarming lime-green slug creatures. Feeling extremely closed in she shut her eyes tight as her body squirmed around in a frenzy to escape.
Then her eyes opened and the pounding of her heart became a reality. There she lay in medical lab, tied down tight with an anesthetic constantly pumping in her arm to calm her raging abilities and to keep her from demolishing the entire building in her sleep. "Jean! Hank! Someone let me out!" Ororo cried in fear as she looked around and saw no one in the brightly lit room. Why would they leave her here? Alone? Knowing her fear of claustrophobia would easily creep up since she could not move from under the binds of the flat examination table.
Her bottom lip, which was now dry with no signs of the formerly applied lip- gloss, was now tucked inside her mouth as she fought away the nervous sweat and the tears that tried to form in her eyes. "Is anyone here!" she yelled in agony right before hearing the swish of the automatic door open. She turned to see a man of short stature and an odd haircut. "Logan! Let me out, please!" she said, almost becoming hysterical as the thoughts from her short dream of entrapment began to creep up inside her mind.
Wolverine rushed over to the table where she laid and placed down a cup of water nearby. "I'm sorry fer leavin' ya 'Ro," Logan says in the softest tone as he releases the latches, which held her down. Immediately after, she removed the anesthetic pump from her arm and shoved it away. "Here, take a drink of this," he says with blue eyes that resembled Xavier's. He picked up the ice-cold cup of water and handed it to Storm. She reluctantly took a sip of it as she sighed and continued to breathe deeply.
"Logan," she begins but does not complete. Her brown eyes almost look like they might cry, but it would be impossible for the Windrider to cry. Only two accounts have been reported in her past. Would she create a third now. Was this her moment of emotional weakness? And was Wolverine the only one there to comfort her?
"'Ro, what's the matter?" he says as he sits on the flat table next to her and wraps a strong arm around her shoulder. She leans her head on his shoulder, entirely forgetting the event with Gambit only hours before.
"Logan, I am afraid," she says finally after a moment of silence. "I do not understand why, but my body is aching terribly and my eyes act as if they do not want to open. My skin is dancing with hives and I can feel myself losing the connection with nature."
"Ya' can't be, 'Ro. It's yer power. Ya' just can't lose that connection, otherwise our problems would be solved. And all the other stuff is just exhaustion, you'll be okay," Logan answers with a sound of confidence in his voice.
Storm lifts her head from his shoulder and scoots down on the table. She then turns to face him. He is dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a skin- tight black shirt. She is still clad in her tattered X-Men uniform. "You do not understand. I am not losing my mutant powers. I am losing my connection with the planet. Before, I was able to sense every weather pattern, every air movement, every flood, every thunderstorm, rainstorm, heat wave. Now, I can hardly sense what is happening in the sky right above this mansion. Logan, I am losing control and I do not know why!"
"Ya' just need yer rest," Logan says as he stands up and offers a hairy hand to Storm. She takes his massive hand into her own, thin, feminine hand. Her right hand was now in his right hand and his left arm was wrapped around her shoulder.
"I pray that you are right," she says, feeling safe in his arms as they walked towards the elevator. While waiting for the elevator to come, neither of them said a word. After entering though, Storm immediately asked him, "I trust since you are alive, we gained victory today?"
"Barely. Yer tornado sent the sentinels and F.O.H. flying in every direction, not to mention the local businesses," Logan says with factuality in his voice but also with a spirit of jest.
"That is not good," Ororo says with concerned eyes before pushing Wolverine away from her. Caught off guard, he was slammed into the elevator wall. Before he had the chance to ask, his question had been answered. Another sneeze erupted from Storm's nose followed by a long series of coughs.
"'Ro, you okay?" Logan finally asks after the coughs and sneezing stop. But before she had the opportunity to answer, they were on the second floor of the Institute with numerous pairs of eyes looking oddly and curiously at Storm through opened elevator doors.
Without looking to see who was watching her, Ororo exited the elevator with glazed eyes and a quick pace. This reminded some of the older members of Ororo's first arrival to the X-Men. After the long battle against the island Krakoa she had gained custody of the attic to make into her private green house and still had her own bedroom. She expected much and received much. Logan quickly scurried behind her with mean eyes on the spectators as he finally caught up to her as she literally zapped open the knob to her bedroom.
"Gambit!" was the first thing that was heard before electricity surrounded her body and the room door flung open, almost off its hinges, "I told you that you were not allowed in here!"
"'Ro, ya need yer rest," Logan says, attempting to calm her as he takes matters into his own hands and grips Gambit by his trench coat before the swamp rat has a chance to reply. Gambit and Logan are outside of Storm's room in a frenzy of noise. Instead of responding any further to the situation, Storm walks to her balcony, a gust of wind following her and knocking down objects in her room, including expensive electrically equipment. It was as if she was blind to the fact that she was destroying her own things.
With another uproar of wind Ororo's body was in the air and off of the balcony. She made her way to the roof where there was a glass-door entrance to the attic. She entered her greenhouse, able to withstand the heat due to her immunity to heat and cold. Her brown eyes closed as she landed neatly upon a futon located amongst the green plants. Her closed eyes clamped tight as short glances of a dark, closed space surfaced in her mind and she opened her eyes, looking up through the glass ceiling of the attic and onto the evening sky.
Her mind began to wander on the subjects that had given her the most trouble and mental strain lately. Her place with the X-Men was becoming a myth, a comic book story almost. She thought to herself in continual ramblings:
I feel myself drawn back to home so dearly, and yet I deny myself the opportunity to go because I am loved here. I am only worshipped back at home because of what I can do for them. Or is it perhaps, that I am loved in both places but I only feel that I am giving my love to the X-Men? Maybe it is not the X-Men, but a certain X-Man. Do I feel drawn to Remy? Those red eyes entrap me so quickly and the experiences we had while I was a child and he was a thief in the old days are forever a spell to his charm. Or is it Logan? I felt safe in his arms, like I could be held onto forever with him and. oh by the heavens! I cannot make up my mind! What. who. do I want?
But before that question could be answered in the Windrider's own thoughts her body fell to the floor off of the futon and she began to cough considerably loud. "Why?!" she continued to yell over her coughs as they became chokes and gasps for air. Her face was turning red, even over her caramel tone. "I cannot breathe!" she yells as she pounds hard against the carpeted floor with her hands and her gasps for air are followed by continual coughs, "Let me breathe!"
Author's Notes: We see a bit of Remy/Ororo in [1]. Now we see a bit of Logan/Ororo in [2]. Still rated PG, merely for weak violence. Beside character development, the plot unravels a bit too, but is still extremely vague.
...Continued
Storm's body flew through the air, aloft on the winds, with her white eyes gazing around with freedom. Under the white clouds were the beautiful surroundings of her African pride lands. Her white hair flowed freely and her body was not encased in an X-Men tainted uniform, which forbade her to escape the laws of a peaceful cause. Instead she was clad in a rag-like two- piece garment, which displayed her legs, arms, and stomach area. Her eyes remained a white freedom even as she began to lose altitude and her heart began pounding. "Winds why do you fail me? I have not yet commanded you to loosen your grip! By the--!" she exclaimed as her body fell into a dark void only illuminated in part by swarming lime-green slug creatures. Feeling extremely closed in she shut her eyes tight as her body squirmed around in a frenzy to escape.
Then her eyes opened and the pounding of her heart became a reality. There she lay in medical lab, tied down tight with an anesthetic constantly pumping in her arm to calm her raging abilities and to keep her from demolishing the entire building in her sleep. "Jean! Hank! Someone let me out!" Ororo cried in fear as she looked around and saw no one in the brightly lit room. Why would they leave her here? Alone? Knowing her fear of claustrophobia would easily creep up since she could not move from under the binds of the flat examination table.
Her bottom lip, which was now dry with no signs of the formerly applied lip- gloss, was now tucked inside her mouth as she fought away the nervous sweat and the tears that tried to form in her eyes. "Is anyone here!" she yelled in agony right before hearing the swish of the automatic door open. She turned to see a man of short stature and an odd haircut. "Logan! Let me out, please!" she said, almost becoming hysterical as the thoughts from her short dream of entrapment began to creep up inside her mind.
Wolverine rushed over to the table where she laid and placed down a cup of water nearby. "I'm sorry fer leavin' ya 'Ro," Logan says in the softest tone as he releases the latches, which held her down. Immediately after, she removed the anesthetic pump from her arm and shoved it away. "Here, take a drink of this," he says with blue eyes that resembled Xavier's. He picked up the ice-cold cup of water and handed it to Storm. She reluctantly took a sip of it as she sighed and continued to breathe deeply.
"Logan," she begins but does not complete. Her brown eyes almost look like they might cry, but it would be impossible for the Windrider to cry. Only two accounts have been reported in her past. Would she create a third now. Was this her moment of emotional weakness? And was Wolverine the only one there to comfort her?
"'Ro, what's the matter?" he says as he sits on the flat table next to her and wraps a strong arm around her shoulder. She leans her head on his shoulder, entirely forgetting the event with Gambit only hours before.
"Logan, I am afraid," she says finally after a moment of silence. "I do not understand why, but my body is aching terribly and my eyes act as if they do not want to open. My skin is dancing with hives and I can feel myself losing the connection with nature."
"Ya' can't be, 'Ro. It's yer power. Ya' just can't lose that connection, otherwise our problems would be solved. And all the other stuff is just exhaustion, you'll be okay," Logan answers with a sound of confidence in his voice.
Storm lifts her head from his shoulder and scoots down on the table. She then turns to face him. He is dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a skin- tight black shirt. She is still clad in her tattered X-Men uniform. "You do not understand. I am not losing my mutant powers. I am losing my connection with the planet. Before, I was able to sense every weather pattern, every air movement, every flood, every thunderstorm, rainstorm, heat wave. Now, I can hardly sense what is happening in the sky right above this mansion. Logan, I am losing control and I do not know why!"
"Ya' just need yer rest," Logan says as he stands up and offers a hairy hand to Storm. She takes his massive hand into her own, thin, feminine hand. Her right hand was now in his right hand and his left arm was wrapped around her shoulder.
"I pray that you are right," she says, feeling safe in his arms as they walked towards the elevator. While waiting for the elevator to come, neither of them said a word. After entering though, Storm immediately asked him, "I trust since you are alive, we gained victory today?"
"Barely. Yer tornado sent the sentinels and F.O.H. flying in every direction, not to mention the local businesses," Logan says with factuality in his voice but also with a spirit of jest.
"That is not good," Ororo says with concerned eyes before pushing Wolverine away from her. Caught off guard, he was slammed into the elevator wall. Before he had the chance to ask, his question had been answered. Another sneeze erupted from Storm's nose followed by a long series of coughs.
"'Ro, you okay?" Logan finally asks after the coughs and sneezing stop. But before she had the opportunity to answer, they were on the second floor of the Institute with numerous pairs of eyes looking oddly and curiously at Storm through opened elevator doors.
Without looking to see who was watching her, Ororo exited the elevator with glazed eyes and a quick pace. This reminded some of the older members of Ororo's first arrival to the X-Men. After the long battle against the island Krakoa she had gained custody of the attic to make into her private green house and still had her own bedroom. She expected much and received much. Logan quickly scurried behind her with mean eyes on the spectators as he finally caught up to her as she literally zapped open the knob to her bedroom.
"Gambit!" was the first thing that was heard before electricity surrounded her body and the room door flung open, almost off its hinges, "I told you that you were not allowed in here!"
"'Ro, ya need yer rest," Logan says, attempting to calm her as he takes matters into his own hands and grips Gambit by his trench coat before the swamp rat has a chance to reply. Gambit and Logan are outside of Storm's room in a frenzy of noise. Instead of responding any further to the situation, Storm walks to her balcony, a gust of wind following her and knocking down objects in her room, including expensive electrically equipment. It was as if she was blind to the fact that she was destroying her own things.
With another uproar of wind Ororo's body was in the air and off of the balcony. She made her way to the roof where there was a glass-door entrance to the attic. She entered her greenhouse, able to withstand the heat due to her immunity to heat and cold. Her brown eyes closed as she landed neatly upon a futon located amongst the green plants. Her closed eyes clamped tight as short glances of a dark, closed space surfaced in her mind and she opened her eyes, looking up through the glass ceiling of the attic and onto the evening sky.
Her mind began to wander on the subjects that had given her the most trouble and mental strain lately. Her place with the X-Men was becoming a myth, a comic book story almost. She thought to herself in continual ramblings:
I feel myself drawn back to home so dearly, and yet I deny myself the opportunity to go because I am loved here. I am only worshipped back at home because of what I can do for them. Or is it perhaps, that I am loved in both places but I only feel that I am giving my love to the X-Men? Maybe it is not the X-Men, but a certain X-Man. Do I feel drawn to Remy? Those red eyes entrap me so quickly and the experiences we had while I was a child and he was a thief in the old days are forever a spell to his charm. Or is it Logan? I felt safe in his arms, like I could be held onto forever with him and. oh by the heavens! I cannot make up my mind! What. who. do I want?
But before that question could be answered in the Windrider's own thoughts her body fell to the floor off of the futon and she began to cough considerably loud. "Why?!" she continued to yell over her coughs as they became chokes and gasps for air. Her face was turning red, even over her caramel tone. "I cannot breathe!" she yells as she pounds hard against the carpeted floor with her hands and her gasps for air are followed by continual coughs, "Let me breathe!"