Ororo's Deathbed
Author's Notes: You've convinced me. I will finish off the story here and now. As mentioned before, Sunday is a busy day for me, and Saturday nights require going to sleep on time. So, sorry it took so long, but here it is.
...Continued
Ororo had been taken out of the medical laboratory. Hank was running around in every direction looking for the correct antibiotic and repeatedly going through every step in the Scientific Method, all in vain. The furry-faced mutant continued to jump from roof to ceiling, searching for an answer.
"Mr. McCoy," Darè said from a corner in the room, testing a number of different herbs he had been working on and doing analysis on. "Eh yo! Mr. McCoy!" he yelled again after he noticed Hank didn't hear him. "Hank!" he exclaimed, immediately grabbing Beast's attention, "Can you calm down? I mean, I'm tryin' to look at this stuff but you jumpin' wildin' out over there."
"Get out!" Hank roared with sharp teeth as he lunged at Darè. The young, teenage mutant quickly ran out of the medical lab and into the hall.
"Geez," Darè mumbled as he walked towards the elevator with his hands in his pocket. He had never seen Hank act so out-of-control. He was not like the Hank that would think, test, hypothesize, etc.; this new image of Hank was one that matched his outer countenance. The beast on the outside had become the Beast on the inside.
But soon his thoughts changed as the elevator opened and he walked on board. Some of his classmates were already on, sweating with tattered uniforms. "Training day?" he asks, already knowing the answers.
The other students just moaned and groaned, and when reaching the first floor they shoved Darè off. "Just jealous 'cause I got to cut class," he chuckles as the elevator door closes. He began to walk towards the Foyer so he could go up the Grand Staircase, but was stopped when he saw Rogue coming in the front door. "Did'ja get the letter?" he asks her.
"Yeah," she says with sad green eyes, "And it ain't pretty." She floats in the air and begins a slow, eased hover towards the staircase. "Ah really don't wunna be the one to give it to Ororo."
"I'll give it to her," he says, holding out his hand for the letter, "I'm goin' up anyway."
"Thanks Darè," Rogue says as she hands the letter over, reluctantly at first, with gloved hands. "Ah'm gonna go see the Professor for a minute."
He begins to walk up the staircase, extending his long legs over two steps and holding on to the exquisite railing. He couldn't help but to the think about Scott's stupidity and ignorance when it came down to the realistic things of life. He had been such a commanding leader on the battlefield, full with pride of success. But battling against other mutants and large robots was unrealistic to most of the world. Learning of betrayal between two friends was realistic. When it came down to something as honest and outspoken as the situation of Jean's hatred for Ororo, he was no longer the strong leader. He was a cowardly chicken who was unable to face the problem head on. Whatever was happening in Scott's head when he found out about Jean's friendly façade? Hopefully it was all going to be revealed in the letter he had left for Ororo.
Darè reached the top of the staircase and walked towards the Adults Dorm, a section that had only been added onto the mansion after everyone started piling inside and new students started to arrive daily. "Hm hm hm," he hummed as he walked down the hall and entered the large pocket doors that were always opened. It connected this new addition to the original part of the mansion. "Eh, Sierra," he said as he stopped humming and approached the Latina. "You know where Ms. Munroe be?"
"Yeah, she's in this room," she said, with a rich Latin accent in her voice, and moved from the doorway. "Why?"
"Scott's letter is here," he said as he began to walk into the room.
He was stopped by her hand, which pulled back at his arm gently. "I thought Rogue was supposed to be getting it."
"She was, but she actin' crazy and cryin' and stuff," he said as he began to walk in again.
Once again, he was stopped by her hand, which pulled him back outside the doorway. Her hazel eyes looked into his dark, brown irises, "We're still meeting on the balcony tonight, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, and finally entered into the dimly lit room. His boots made thuds against the hardwood floor until he stepped onto the large rug, which covered most of the room. "Ms. Munroe?" he said, looking towards a body shape on the bed.
"Darè?" she said weakly, as she slowly lifted her head.
"It's me," he said as he approached the bed, "Rogue just gave-" But he was cut off by a masculine groan that came from the bathroom. He looked to see Remy exiting the bathroom and noticed the two were perhaps conversing before he entered into the room. "Should I leave?" Darè questioned as he slowly began to exit the room.
"No," Ororo said, "Remy was going to leave," a cough interrupted her words, "And return later. Please sit, Darè."
Remy walked over to Ororo's bed and whispered something into her ear that Darè could not hear. If it were up to him, he wouldn't want to hear. It was probably another phrase to encourage her that she would survive the catastrophe and outlive the obstacles. He, for one, did not have that much faith in good fortune or life. Believing that death would eventually come and take those who were ill was the easiest thing for him. It's so easy to hope and believe in something that is seen everyday instead of looking and having greater expectations for the unseen miracles of life.
Before Remy departed for the door he rested a kiss on Ororo's head and closed the door behind him. "Rogue left the letter from Scott wit' me," he said in somewhat of a solemn voice. Darè let his arm extend over the bed with the letter in his hand.
"Please," Ororo said, "Sit and read it to me. I neither have the strength nor the courage to read the letter."
"Uh, sure," he said as he bouncily walked over to a chair that was positioned at the head of the bed. Ororo was laying flat on her back, face pointed to the ceiling and her white, silvery hair spread across the pillow that her head rested on. She was under a large comforter and an automatic sprayer, which was plugged into the wall, sprayed the bedroom with Lysol. "Can I turn on anotha light?" he finally asked after fiddling with the letter and trying to read it under the terrible lighting in the room.
"If you would like," Ororo answered. Darè sent his hand behind his head and turned on the lamp that was rested on a nightstand.
"Let's see," he said as he unfolded the letter fully and was ready to start when yet another interruption occurred.
"Read the letter correctly, Darè," she said with a smile and somewhat of a joke. It was unlike her to either joke or smile. He had always been one to paraphrase while he read and use ebonic terms in place of sophisticated terms, which he found necessary to decipher.
"Okay," he said with a slight laugh and looked to Ororo. It had been the first time he saw her with the lights on and as far along the sickness as she was. Now her skin was no longer caramel brown, it was a rusty color with small hives popping up everywhere. He would catch her frequently scratching the back of her hands and her eyes never seemed to lose the white, fogginess which had been resting in them for a few hours now. He put the letter into the light and began to read immediately:
'Dear Ororo, I apologize for being such a jerk to you and for not being a true friend. Now you have another betrayer to add to your list, another Benedict Arnold to convict mankind with. By the time anybody reads this letter I won't be alive. I just can't live with the constant guilt that plagues me. Every time I think about it I seem to feel even more less than human. It's an odd phrase: less than human. It's amazing how stupid I was. I mean, I'm a mutant, the next step in life, and yet look at how inhumane I was.
I knew Jean didn't like you when you first came. The way you heart-fully placed you hands on my shoulders that first crowded time in the Blackbird when you joined and helped us save the original X-Men. She might have had a smile on her face and years of friendship planned, but it was all a facsimile she was using to hide the spite. And hatred normally will get the best of us if we let it sit there, like a bucket of water in the heat for days and weeks in the summertime. One day it's a thought and the next it's a home and vat of mosquitoes.
I'm just rambling now, trying to find a good idea to not take my life here and now. I know that you'll forgive me. You have too much compassion not to forgive me. But I can't forgive myself. And I can't live with the doubt and guilt forever.
I know I must have made things worse for you by leaving. I mean; I know it must have been a lot of stress on your body, leading the team on short notice and dealing with the ever-growing virus. Sorry, again. Once more, I wasn't thinking. Actually, I was thinking. I was constantly thinking about Jean. I wasn't thinking about the consequences that would harm you. I was hoping that Jean would love me enough to see that I left, and that she shouldn't go through with her hateful plans. I told her that I wouldn't come back until she promised me that she wouldn't do anything to you.
One thing is for sure: she showed me. I have absolutely no love left inside of me for Jean, Rogue, or myself. It's coming to that point where I am beginning to realize that this type of thing isn't supposed to happen to someone as compassionate as you. I can't help but to think back to the time you defeated me for leadership of the X-Men. I can laugh at it now, but back then I was angry. The embarrassment of being beat by you when you didn't have your powers and I had my own was unbelievable. But even after that, you never stopped showing compassion.
I can't believe this. I'm actually crying here. I can't take it anymore. I won't be seeing you in heaven, Ororo. I don't deserve heaven. After all, suicide is a no-way-out hell gateway. So this is goodbye, my Beautiful Windrider. I hope you stay strong and live through this. I know I can't live through it any longer.
With sincerest regrets, Scott Summers'
Darè gently folded up the letter and looked to Ororo who didn't move anything except for a frequent blink in her eyes. Then finally, when he turned off the light, and the room went back to it's dimness, she spoke. "Thank you, Darè. If you see Logan, can you ask him to come see me?" she asked, sounding as if she was about to cry.
"Sure, Ms. Munroe," he said, also feeling the suffocating emotion coming from the letter and Ororo. He bent down over the bed and gave her a hug. She gently returned it. He placed the letter on the coffee table and walked out of the room.
"How was she?" Sierra asked, as she looked up from the hallway floor. She was sitting across from the door and when Darè stepped out she had looked up to meet his eyes and facial expression. When she noticed the suppressed look on his face she said no more. Lifting her hand into the air, he walked over to her and helped her to stand.
"Scott basically said he was sorry and that he was sending himself to hell," he said, as she finally stood up straight in her high-heeled boots.
"Oh my goodness," she said, sending a hand to her mouth, surprised and appalled.
He took her hand in his own and the two began walking down the hall, staying the Adult Dorm area. "I really don't feel like talking right now," she said as they walked down the quiet hall. It was an unusual thing to find a quiet place in the Institute at any time of the day except in the twilight hours where night met morning.
"I know," he said, understanding exactly how she felt. He felt the same way. Their entire lives had become overwhelmed with Ororo's well being and the adult problems that seemed so common among teenagers in smaller forms.
They made their way to the new grandeur balcony, which had been added with the adult sleeping area. "Darè, I'm glad I have you with me right here," she said as she cuddled herself into his arms when they finally reached the balcony. He was leaning against the brick wall, looking over the side of the balcony. This was probably the quietest part of the mansion since the attic's untimely destruction by Ororo.
"I needed you here with me too," he said, knowing what she meant in essence but having the fear to say so. She turned to look at him with a slight smile on her face and he responded the only way he knew how to: laying a long kiss on her lips, parting with closed eyes and sweaty palms from the heat of the summer evening. It didn't end there, once again, their lips met, but not as long this time.
Interruption came from the groggy voice of a grumpy Wolverine, "What are you kids doin' here? Get back to yer part of the mansion!" he said with anger.
"Oh yeah, Ms. Munroe wanted to see you," Darè said, ignoring what Logan said as he looked up to the stressed man. For a man that healed so quickly and was able to hide his age, it was strange to see the wrinkles of stress becoming deeper and visible.
"Yeah," he said with a distant gaze in his eyes, "Thanks kid." He began to walk down the hall, forgetting the two teenagers on the balcony and with his mind solely on Ororo. He didn't notice how fast he was walking until he reached Ororo's door in record time.
"Logan?" she asked as she heard the door open.
"Yeah it's me darlin'," he said as he closed the door behind him and walked through the small foyer of the bedroom. Making his way towards the bed, he noticed a small rain cloud over Ororo's head, which would display lightning often and small blurs of thunder. " 'Ro, you okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I am fine Logan. Please, seat yourself on the bed," she asked him, coughing frequently in between her words. Her voice was scratchy and sounded as if it was dying. When he finally sat on the bed, she began speaking, not giving him the room or time to say anything. "Logan, I would like to thank you for you friendship through these long and rough times of being an X-Man. It started off very simply. I joined, searching for the true purpose of my mutant abilities. Unlike many of the others, you and I had already mastered our powers before joining Xavier. I suppose we joined because we were searching for answers. I hope you found your answers," she said with a weak smile.
"What are you talkin' about, 'Ro? You really don't think you're gonna die, do you? Cause Hank is down there moltin' his hair out gettin' some medicine ready for ya."
The door opened again before Ororo could respond. "Thank you for your time Logan," she said as she noticed Remy standing there. "I shall never forget our friendship and the loving times we have spent together."
Logan begins to cry uncontrollably as his silhouette of being the tough X- Man shows his truly babyish nature. He was still a child on the inside but didn't like to let it show. He would have tried to find an excuse for his tears with the Cajun standing right there in front of them, but he didn't. He simply took Ororo's hand and kissed it gently, concealing his fangs under his lips. "I love you 'Ro," he said before standing up and walking out of the room.
"Remy," Ororo said with another cough. He was cautious to approach her with the small thundering cloud that hovered over her head. If a lightning bolt were to lose control, he would be struck. But his fear was soon relieved as she called to him again, "Remy, please, come."
He moved across the room and sat on the bed, his brown trench coat following him the entire way and ending up under his bottom. "Stormy, you need to stop doing this. You talkin' to everybody like you about to die. Xavier and Hank not gonna let you die," he says with gentle eyes.
"Remy," she says, finding the strength to lift her body to a sitting position, "I have been wondering and thinking, hoping and praying to find out who I really loved. Although I love everyone I know, I have been searching for that one person who would receive the bulk of my affection. For so long I have battled with the loss of Forge and Arkon. Now, it has come down to finally choosing. Both you and Logan have showed me undeniable care and affection, but Remy I love you."
"I love you, too," he says, turning around with wide, red eyes and taking Ororo in his arms. "And I'm going to love you forever." He closed his eyes in the dim room, and she did the same as their warm lips met for a soft kiss. Their hearts beat with an undeniable speed, as they finally were honest with themselves.
Remy began to part as he felt a weakness in Ororo's kiss. Still in his arms, her eyes were closed and her lips stationary. "Stormy?" he said, looking at her. He shook her and put his ear to her chest to check a heartbeat. "Stormy?" he continued to with perseverance. "Ororo!"
Author's Notes: You've convinced me. I will finish off the story here and now. As mentioned before, Sunday is a busy day for me, and Saturday nights require going to sleep on time. So, sorry it took so long, but here it is.
...Continued
Ororo had been taken out of the medical laboratory. Hank was running around in every direction looking for the correct antibiotic and repeatedly going through every step in the Scientific Method, all in vain. The furry-faced mutant continued to jump from roof to ceiling, searching for an answer.
"Mr. McCoy," Darè said from a corner in the room, testing a number of different herbs he had been working on and doing analysis on. "Eh yo! Mr. McCoy!" he yelled again after he noticed Hank didn't hear him. "Hank!" he exclaimed, immediately grabbing Beast's attention, "Can you calm down? I mean, I'm tryin' to look at this stuff but you jumpin' wildin' out over there."
"Get out!" Hank roared with sharp teeth as he lunged at Darè. The young, teenage mutant quickly ran out of the medical lab and into the hall.
"Geez," Darè mumbled as he walked towards the elevator with his hands in his pocket. He had never seen Hank act so out-of-control. He was not like the Hank that would think, test, hypothesize, etc.; this new image of Hank was one that matched his outer countenance. The beast on the outside had become the Beast on the inside.
But soon his thoughts changed as the elevator opened and he walked on board. Some of his classmates were already on, sweating with tattered uniforms. "Training day?" he asks, already knowing the answers.
The other students just moaned and groaned, and when reaching the first floor they shoved Darè off. "Just jealous 'cause I got to cut class," he chuckles as the elevator door closes. He began to walk towards the Foyer so he could go up the Grand Staircase, but was stopped when he saw Rogue coming in the front door. "Did'ja get the letter?" he asks her.
"Yeah," she says with sad green eyes, "And it ain't pretty." She floats in the air and begins a slow, eased hover towards the staircase. "Ah really don't wunna be the one to give it to Ororo."
"I'll give it to her," he says, holding out his hand for the letter, "I'm goin' up anyway."
"Thanks Darè," Rogue says as she hands the letter over, reluctantly at first, with gloved hands. "Ah'm gonna go see the Professor for a minute."
He begins to walk up the staircase, extending his long legs over two steps and holding on to the exquisite railing. He couldn't help but to the think about Scott's stupidity and ignorance when it came down to the realistic things of life. He had been such a commanding leader on the battlefield, full with pride of success. But battling against other mutants and large robots was unrealistic to most of the world. Learning of betrayal between two friends was realistic. When it came down to something as honest and outspoken as the situation of Jean's hatred for Ororo, he was no longer the strong leader. He was a cowardly chicken who was unable to face the problem head on. Whatever was happening in Scott's head when he found out about Jean's friendly façade? Hopefully it was all going to be revealed in the letter he had left for Ororo.
Darè reached the top of the staircase and walked towards the Adults Dorm, a section that had only been added onto the mansion after everyone started piling inside and new students started to arrive daily. "Hm hm hm," he hummed as he walked down the hall and entered the large pocket doors that were always opened. It connected this new addition to the original part of the mansion. "Eh, Sierra," he said as he stopped humming and approached the Latina. "You know where Ms. Munroe be?"
"Yeah, she's in this room," she said, with a rich Latin accent in her voice, and moved from the doorway. "Why?"
"Scott's letter is here," he said as he began to walk into the room.
He was stopped by her hand, which pulled back at his arm gently. "I thought Rogue was supposed to be getting it."
"She was, but she actin' crazy and cryin' and stuff," he said as he began to walk in again.
Once again, he was stopped by her hand, which pulled him back outside the doorway. Her hazel eyes looked into his dark, brown irises, "We're still meeting on the balcony tonight, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, and finally entered into the dimly lit room. His boots made thuds against the hardwood floor until he stepped onto the large rug, which covered most of the room. "Ms. Munroe?" he said, looking towards a body shape on the bed.
"Darè?" she said weakly, as she slowly lifted her head.
"It's me," he said as he approached the bed, "Rogue just gave-" But he was cut off by a masculine groan that came from the bathroom. He looked to see Remy exiting the bathroom and noticed the two were perhaps conversing before he entered into the room. "Should I leave?" Darè questioned as he slowly began to exit the room.
"No," Ororo said, "Remy was going to leave," a cough interrupted her words, "And return later. Please sit, Darè."
Remy walked over to Ororo's bed and whispered something into her ear that Darè could not hear. If it were up to him, he wouldn't want to hear. It was probably another phrase to encourage her that she would survive the catastrophe and outlive the obstacles. He, for one, did not have that much faith in good fortune or life. Believing that death would eventually come and take those who were ill was the easiest thing for him. It's so easy to hope and believe in something that is seen everyday instead of looking and having greater expectations for the unseen miracles of life.
Before Remy departed for the door he rested a kiss on Ororo's head and closed the door behind him. "Rogue left the letter from Scott wit' me," he said in somewhat of a solemn voice. Darè let his arm extend over the bed with the letter in his hand.
"Please," Ororo said, "Sit and read it to me. I neither have the strength nor the courage to read the letter."
"Uh, sure," he said as he bouncily walked over to a chair that was positioned at the head of the bed. Ororo was laying flat on her back, face pointed to the ceiling and her white, silvery hair spread across the pillow that her head rested on. She was under a large comforter and an automatic sprayer, which was plugged into the wall, sprayed the bedroom with Lysol. "Can I turn on anotha light?" he finally asked after fiddling with the letter and trying to read it under the terrible lighting in the room.
"If you would like," Ororo answered. Darè sent his hand behind his head and turned on the lamp that was rested on a nightstand.
"Let's see," he said as he unfolded the letter fully and was ready to start when yet another interruption occurred.
"Read the letter correctly, Darè," she said with a smile and somewhat of a joke. It was unlike her to either joke or smile. He had always been one to paraphrase while he read and use ebonic terms in place of sophisticated terms, which he found necessary to decipher.
"Okay," he said with a slight laugh and looked to Ororo. It had been the first time he saw her with the lights on and as far along the sickness as she was. Now her skin was no longer caramel brown, it was a rusty color with small hives popping up everywhere. He would catch her frequently scratching the back of her hands and her eyes never seemed to lose the white, fogginess which had been resting in them for a few hours now. He put the letter into the light and began to read immediately:
'Dear Ororo, I apologize for being such a jerk to you and for not being a true friend. Now you have another betrayer to add to your list, another Benedict Arnold to convict mankind with. By the time anybody reads this letter I won't be alive. I just can't live with the constant guilt that plagues me. Every time I think about it I seem to feel even more less than human. It's an odd phrase: less than human. It's amazing how stupid I was. I mean, I'm a mutant, the next step in life, and yet look at how inhumane I was.
I knew Jean didn't like you when you first came. The way you heart-fully placed you hands on my shoulders that first crowded time in the Blackbird when you joined and helped us save the original X-Men. She might have had a smile on her face and years of friendship planned, but it was all a facsimile she was using to hide the spite. And hatred normally will get the best of us if we let it sit there, like a bucket of water in the heat for days and weeks in the summertime. One day it's a thought and the next it's a home and vat of mosquitoes.
I'm just rambling now, trying to find a good idea to not take my life here and now. I know that you'll forgive me. You have too much compassion not to forgive me. But I can't forgive myself. And I can't live with the doubt and guilt forever.
I know I must have made things worse for you by leaving. I mean; I know it must have been a lot of stress on your body, leading the team on short notice and dealing with the ever-growing virus. Sorry, again. Once more, I wasn't thinking. Actually, I was thinking. I was constantly thinking about Jean. I wasn't thinking about the consequences that would harm you. I was hoping that Jean would love me enough to see that I left, and that she shouldn't go through with her hateful plans. I told her that I wouldn't come back until she promised me that she wouldn't do anything to you.
One thing is for sure: she showed me. I have absolutely no love left inside of me for Jean, Rogue, or myself. It's coming to that point where I am beginning to realize that this type of thing isn't supposed to happen to someone as compassionate as you. I can't help but to think back to the time you defeated me for leadership of the X-Men. I can laugh at it now, but back then I was angry. The embarrassment of being beat by you when you didn't have your powers and I had my own was unbelievable. But even after that, you never stopped showing compassion.
I can't believe this. I'm actually crying here. I can't take it anymore. I won't be seeing you in heaven, Ororo. I don't deserve heaven. After all, suicide is a no-way-out hell gateway. So this is goodbye, my Beautiful Windrider. I hope you stay strong and live through this. I know I can't live through it any longer.
With sincerest regrets, Scott Summers'
Darè gently folded up the letter and looked to Ororo who didn't move anything except for a frequent blink in her eyes. Then finally, when he turned off the light, and the room went back to it's dimness, she spoke. "Thank you, Darè. If you see Logan, can you ask him to come see me?" she asked, sounding as if she was about to cry.
"Sure, Ms. Munroe," he said, also feeling the suffocating emotion coming from the letter and Ororo. He bent down over the bed and gave her a hug. She gently returned it. He placed the letter on the coffee table and walked out of the room.
"How was she?" Sierra asked, as she looked up from the hallway floor. She was sitting across from the door and when Darè stepped out she had looked up to meet his eyes and facial expression. When she noticed the suppressed look on his face she said no more. Lifting her hand into the air, he walked over to her and helped her to stand.
"Scott basically said he was sorry and that he was sending himself to hell," he said, as she finally stood up straight in her high-heeled boots.
"Oh my goodness," she said, sending a hand to her mouth, surprised and appalled.
He took her hand in his own and the two began walking down the hall, staying the Adult Dorm area. "I really don't feel like talking right now," she said as they walked down the quiet hall. It was an unusual thing to find a quiet place in the Institute at any time of the day except in the twilight hours where night met morning.
"I know," he said, understanding exactly how she felt. He felt the same way. Their entire lives had become overwhelmed with Ororo's well being and the adult problems that seemed so common among teenagers in smaller forms.
They made their way to the new grandeur balcony, which had been added with the adult sleeping area. "Darè, I'm glad I have you with me right here," she said as she cuddled herself into his arms when they finally reached the balcony. He was leaning against the brick wall, looking over the side of the balcony. This was probably the quietest part of the mansion since the attic's untimely destruction by Ororo.
"I needed you here with me too," he said, knowing what she meant in essence but having the fear to say so. She turned to look at him with a slight smile on her face and he responded the only way he knew how to: laying a long kiss on her lips, parting with closed eyes and sweaty palms from the heat of the summer evening. It didn't end there, once again, their lips met, but not as long this time.
Interruption came from the groggy voice of a grumpy Wolverine, "What are you kids doin' here? Get back to yer part of the mansion!" he said with anger.
"Oh yeah, Ms. Munroe wanted to see you," Darè said, ignoring what Logan said as he looked up to the stressed man. For a man that healed so quickly and was able to hide his age, it was strange to see the wrinkles of stress becoming deeper and visible.
"Yeah," he said with a distant gaze in his eyes, "Thanks kid." He began to walk down the hall, forgetting the two teenagers on the balcony and with his mind solely on Ororo. He didn't notice how fast he was walking until he reached Ororo's door in record time.
"Logan?" she asked as she heard the door open.
"Yeah it's me darlin'," he said as he closed the door behind him and walked through the small foyer of the bedroom. Making his way towards the bed, he noticed a small rain cloud over Ororo's head, which would display lightning often and small blurs of thunder. " 'Ro, you okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I am fine Logan. Please, seat yourself on the bed," she asked him, coughing frequently in between her words. Her voice was scratchy and sounded as if it was dying. When he finally sat on the bed, she began speaking, not giving him the room or time to say anything. "Logan, I would like to thank you for you friendship through these long and rough times of being an X-Man. It started off very simply. I joined, searching for the true purpose of my mutant abilities. Unlike many of the others, you and I had already mastered our powers before joining Xavier. I suppose we joined because we were searching for answers. I hope you found your answers," she said with a weak smile.
"What are you talkin' about, 'Ro? You really don't think you're gonna die, do you? Cause Hank is down there moltin' his hair out gettin' some medicine ready for ya."
The door opened again before Ororo could respond. "Thank you for your time Logan," she said as she noticed Remy standing there. "I shall never forget our friendship and the loving times we have spent together."
Logan begins to cry uncontrollably as his silhouette of being the tough X- Man shows his truly babyish nature. He was still a child on the inside but didn't like to let it show. He would have tried to find an excuse for his tears with the Cajun standing right there in front of them, but he didn't. He simply took Ororo's hand and kissed it gently, concealing his fangs under his lips. "I love you 'Ro," he said before standing up and walking out of the room.
"Remy," Ororo said with another cough. He was cautious to approach her with the small thundering cloud that hovered over her head. If a lightning bolt were to lose control, he would be struck. But his fear was soon relieved as she called to him again, "Remy, please, come."
He moved across the room and sat on the bed, his brown trench coat following him the entire way and ending up under his bottom. "Stormy, you need to stop doing this. You talkin' to everybody like you about to die. Xavier and Hank not gonna let you die," he says with gentle eyes.
"Remy," she says, finding the strength to lift her body to a sitting position, "I have been wondering and thinking, hoping and praying to find out who I really loved. Although I love everyone I know, I have been searching for that one person who would receive the bulk of my affection. For so long I have battled with the loss of Forge and Arkon. Now, it has come down to finally choosing. Both you and Logan have showed me undeniable care and affection, but Remy I love you."
"I love you, too," he says, turning around with wide, red eyes and taking Ororo in his arms. "And I'm going to love you forever." He closed his eyes in the dim room, and she did the same as their warm lips met for a soft kiss. Their hearts beat with an undeniable speed, as they finally were honest with themselves.
Remy began to part as he felt a weakness in Ororo's kiss. Still in his arms, her eyes were closed and her lips stationary. "Stormy?" he said, looking at her. He shook her and put his ear to her chest to check a heartbeat. "Stormy?" he continued to with perseverance. "Ororo!"