The Blood on Our Hands
Ororo placed her hand to her cheek, surprised at how gentle Logan's kiss had been. Silently she chided herself for forgetting that Logan could be tender when he wanted to be. Usually she could remember this but sometimes she and others mistakenly assumed that Logan was completely savage. Sometimes the feral side was strong in him, instincts overriding reason and he became little more than a predator. Even then he wasn't incapable of affection or tenderness. You just had to be wary of the beast and to remember that no matter what the humanity was still there if hidden deep within. If you gave him no reason to attack you then you were safe.
Ororo closed her eyes and thought back to shortly after they'd first met. That was when she'd made one of her mistaken assumptions, one she still wished she could take back today. She could still see the pain in his eyes when she'd apologized, the hurt that he'd felt for her thinking him a butcher. She'd railed at him for killing animals in sport when he'd mentioned his hunting. He didn't kill for sport. Rather his form of hunting was to approach quietly and stealthily to a deer or other animal. Then when he'd got close he would just reach out and touch the animal.
She'd apologized to him of course and he'd accepted it. Still the fact remained that she'd judged him without knowing the truth. Maybe she couldn't be blamed since almost everyone then had believed Logan to be savage. He wasn't like her, Kurt, Scott, Jean, Piotr or the others. He admitted himself that he killed and he didn't hesitate to use his claws on an enemy. His temper was easily aroused and back then he didn't have the same control over his feral side. He sometimes lashed out at his fellows although thankfully he never seriously hurt anyone. Those days were over now and he was now an indispensable part of the team. He was a loner at heart and yet he was always there, the heart and soul of the team. Now even Warren grudgingly accepted him and though sometimes it was uneasy he'd befriended Scott.
The X-Men knew the truth now, had learnt that while Logan might be a killer he certainly wasn't a murderer. There weren't that many of them who hadn't now at some point been forced to kill when there was no other choice. It was never easy, it was never glorious. It haunted your dreams, consumed you with guilt and the faces never went away.
Those who looked upon Ororo wouldn't know that she had blood on her hands. They saw the beautiful wind rider, the woman who'd been worshipped as a goddess. They saw the purity, the innocence and joy for life and never the guilt. The first time she'd had no choice, she'd literally been in a life or death situation. She was twelve, still a child but forced to scratch a living as a pickpocket on the streets. The man was large and he had a knife. His intentions were all too clear, he would rape her and then he would kill her. A struggle as she fought desperately to protect herself. She managed to grab the knife; he slipped and fell onto it. As simple as that, he was dead.
Nobody would blame her for that, she was protecting herself. Logan certainly wouldn't judge her for that. If he'd been there he would have killed the man himself to save a young woman, just as he'd kill to protect Jubilee or Kitty Pryde.
Still even to this day she felt a measure of guilt.
The second time was far worse. That was the day she'd ripped out a young woman's heart. She'd had no choice and it turned out that Sarah had survived. That didn't make the guilt any easier to bear. For the fact remained, she'd had to kill a young woman. A bitter, damaged, twisted young woman who'd committed some terrible crimes but still a victim. In a way Ororo was responsible for what Sarah had become.
She'd led the Morlocks but she hadn't saved them from the Marauders. Sarah had survived and through the machinations of the madman Mikhail Rasputin she ended up in another dimension. She lived a hellish existence becoming Marrow and returning to Earth to lead the deadly Gene Nation. She'd sought the blessing of the Dark Beast and at his behest they launched a campaign of terror and slaughtered hundreds of innocents. To save hundreds more Ororo had been forced to stop Marrow permanently.
Now things were different and Marrow was a valued member of the X-Men, atoning for her crimes and finding redemption. She and Ororo were even on speaking terms now and some day they might even become friends. Still she couldn't forget the look on Sarah's face, the fear and disbelief as Ororo did the unthinkable. She still had the occasional nightmare.
"Are ya alright darlin?"
Ororo blinked, startled by Logan's sudden words. She turned slightly and faced him uncertain what she would say to him. His hazel eyes were filled with concern for her, shaggy brows furrowed slightly. She considered just nodding and saying she was fine but that would be a lie. He could probably tell by her scent that something was wrong because he'd laid a hand on her shoulder. Just a gentle touch to let her know she could talk to him. In a way it was ironic because she was supposed to be comforting him rather than the other way round.
"I was just thinking Logan about the times we've been forced to kill. I expect you know the truth better than any of us, that it's a stain that never goes away. I'm sorry; this is selfish of me and thoughtless to talk of such a thing, especially when you're feeling like this,"
She was taller than him so he needed to step up onto the tree stump to look her in the eye. He did so and gently embraced her, drawing her into a hug. Ororo felt secure as his strong arms held her safe, like a father comforting his daughter. She gazed into his hazel eyes, seeing the animal in there but knowing she was a member of his pack who he'd fight to the death to defend. She also saw the warmth and humanity and the tenderness he showed only to those he cared for the most. Jubilee, Jean, Kitty, Rogue and herself. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his craggy face softened becoming almost youthful. Slowly she found herself smiling back at him. Then he was leaning closer, stubble scratching her cheek. Lips met and he kissed her slowly and tenderly.
"Do ya feel better now darlin?"
For a moment Ororo was silent and then she smiled again, this time radiantly.
"I am much better thank you Logan."
He grinned broadly, pointed incisors and canines glinting in the light. He had a wild look in his eyes now, not one of feral rage but playfulness. He leapt down of the tree stump and then was scrabbling in the leaf litter. Moments later Ororo gave a small shriek as something sharp and prickly was shoved down her neck. Logan's raucous laughter rang out as she scrabbled at her clothing, finally managing to retrieve the pinecone.
"By the bright lady, you are going to suffer for that Wolverine," she said in her sternest tone.
"Yer gonna have ta catch me first darlin," he chuckled and dashed off into the undergrowth.
Logan was grinning fiercely as he slunk stealthily through the bushes. He knew full well Ororo wasn't really angry with him and at least he'd managed to lift her out of her black mood. He was feeling playful now and he was going to allow her to catch him. The worst that would happen might be a drenching from a sudden downpour of rain or maybe she'd tickle him again. Certainly he wouldn't want to make her really mad, with an adamantium skeleton being struck by lightning was no fun at all. Barefoot Logan made not a sound as he crept through the leaf litter. Another fierce grin as he glimpsed a suitably tall tree.
"Yeow, freakin hell," he growled under his breath as a pine needle dug into his sole.
A short distance away Ororo smiled to herself.
Logan reached the tree and began climbing, fingers and toes finding easy purchase on the rough bark. He was about twenty feet up when a gale wind began rocking the tree violently. He popped out his claws and would have clung their indefinitely but for a twist of fate. The wind happened to deposit a pine cone down his neck which slid under his loose shirt all the way down his back. With his heightened sense of touch the itching and tickling sensation proved unbearable and he reflexively retracted his claws and fell of the tree. Fortunately for him his fall was broken by a patch of stinging nettles.
"Flamin hell, going ta get ya fer this darlin," growled Logan.
"We shall see Logan, we shall see," Ororo giggled and dashed off towards the lake shore with the feral in hot pursuit.
He caught up with her just at the lake edge, popping his claws and using them to pin her cape to the floor. With a small shriek Ororo stumbled and instinctively flailed out for anything in reach, reflexively grabbing one of Logan's thick sideburns. Logan in turn yelped as a clump of hair was painfully yanked out. Then they were tumbling together straight into the lake. There was a loud splash and much cursing and spluttering.
"Flamin hell, now I'm soaked through ta the adamantium-laced bone!"
"By the bright lady, whatever will Scott think I've been up too?"
Then they were pulling themselves onto the shore, Ororo giggling and Logan literally howling with laughter. They hugged and laughed again, about to kiss when a polite cough interrupted them. Turning somewhat sheepishly they saw the blue-furred figure of Hank McCoy watching them. Hank folded his arms across his furry chest and fangs briefly showed in a sardonic grin.
"Well bless my stars and garters that was certainly something you don't see every day. Quite fascinating really. Anyway I just thought I'd tell you I've got a picnic hamper waiting for you. If you've quite finished your amusing antics that is. Don't hurry on my account though, I've been having a most entertaining time watching you," he chuckled.
Logan and Ororo exchanged glances and nodded.
Hank's blue eyes widened as the wind picked up and a massive wave from the lake cascaded towards him. Logan and Ororo dived out of the way but poor Henry had no chance at all. He was literally soaked through to the skin, fur plastered against his body and looking very much like a drowned werewolf.
"Stars and garters bub that is the phrase isn't it?" purred Logan.
"I really shouldn't laugh Henry. My apologies but I think I shall," were Ororo's last coherent words before she broke down in another fit of giggles.
"To borrow a catchphrase from my diminutive hirsute feral compatriot, grr," snarled Hank.
Then he shook himself dry like a dog, liberally soaking Ororo and Logan.
"Vengeance is mine," Hank gave them a triumphant smile.
