Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Thank-you to my reviewers, now for chapter seven...
Ororo sat at the desk of her plant filled classroom alone, desperately trying to concentrate on the essay in front of her. But after reading the line, "---and it was on this day that the Japanese surrender, bringing WWII to an official close." she gave up the ghost, gathered Artie's essay with the ten others and began filing the work away. Maybe she'd try again later-- -but she very much doubted that she'd be in the right frame of mind then either. She just couldn't get the events of earlier out of her head, Catherine's reaction had been---strange.
Taking a sip of her by now lukewarm coffee that Bobby had so thoughtfully brought for her, Ororo's mind wondered back to her troubled niece. After she had told her almost everything that had happened, including the fact that she had woken up in a hospital bed about three weeks after the incident, with no memory of how she had got there or who had taken her. Ororo had wanted to explain why she'd never come back for Catherine. Of course, she had tried---years into her stay at the mansion she had finally managed to relay the story to the professor and they had used Cerebro to try and locate her---but Xavier could never find a reading. Not even a residual psyche---that's why Ororo had given her up for dead. At peace perhaps with Karima and the rest of her family. With that belief she had been able to---at last---close that terrible chapter of her life and move on. A new life, a new family, a new love---a new hope. Memories of what had happened still haunted her from time to time---memories of what she did in particular. But that's when she could talk to the Professor, she could confide in him, without having to burden Logan with the problems of her past---she figured he had enough trouble coming to terms with his own. She knew now that she had probably been foolish in such a presumption but at the time it seemed preferable to dragging up the painful past for no reason. Until that reason had turned up on the doorstep.
Now all she wanted to do was explain this to Catherine---explain why she'd never come for her. But after their talk she had gone off for a walk, she said she needed time to think but there was something more to it than that. Ororo got the distinct impression that she simply didn't want to be near her---or maybe she was just being paranoid. After all she had just been informed that her father was a murderous monster---but also that Ororo was responsible for his death. It was all such a damn mess, a real can of worms.
Ororo closed her eyes and sighed, placing the half drunken cup of coffee back on the desk. How was she going to get Catherine to come round, to see that she did what she had to do? She didn't know. What she wouldn't give for a stiff drink now! But she didn't think Charles would be all that impressed by his senior teacher drinking in class---in the middle of the afternoon! Besides she didn't really drink, she left that pastime to her husband. Speaking of which---
"Knock, knock."
Ororo opened her eyes to see Logan at the doorway with what looked like another (steaming hot) mug of coffee in his hand.
"Come in." She gave him her best smile but even that appeared weary.
Making his way over to her, he snatched up one of the desk chairs on his way. Bringing it to the front of her desk he swivelled it round so that his arms rested on the back and set the mug down carefully in front of her.
"So, how did it go? With Catherine I mean." Logan reached over the desk and took one of Ororo's hands in his.
She sighed softly again and shook her head. Shrugging her shoulders slightly she said, "I'm not sure---she was very quiet."
Logan nodded his head absently, "Well it was a lot to take in, she came here expecting to find her mother. She'll be O. K---you just need to give her some time." He brought the tips of her fingers to his lips, kissing them softly.
"I hope so." Ororo replied quietly, all the while wondering what she had done to have such an understanding and loving husband. Logan's transformation over the years had been astonishing---it proved to her that underneath all the rough if you looked hard enough you could still find a gem.
"I was kinda hoping to meet her---if that's O. K. Or do ya think I should leave it for a bit?" Logan sounded a little hesitant in his request.
Ororo thought about it for a moment before replying, "Maybe this evening--- I'm sure she'd like to meet her new Uncle!"
Logan gave a brief chuckle, "Uncle." He repeated quietly, he'd never had a relative before (in the context of his short memory) and a wife didn't quite count. This was a new one for him, but he liked the sound of it.
Thinking back to Catherine's behaviour Ororo thought and then said aloud, "When she's got over the shock of everything, I think she'll settle in here very well." But then she frowned as a possibility she hadn't really considered came to her.
"What?" Logan asked, noticing the expression immediately and giving her cheek an affectionate stroke with his free hand.
"What if she decides that she doesn't want to stay here?"
Logan gave her a reassuring smile before getting up from the chair and making his way around the desk to stand behind her. Placing his hands on her tense shoulders he began to massage her taught muscles, "There's no reason why she wouldn't want to stay. I mean, the kid grew up in an orphanage---you know what that's like. She's just found the only family in the world that she has---why would she leave?"
#Because she probably blames me.# Ororo thought ruefully to herself, but she hadn't told Logan the whole story yet so she had to keep the reasons for her scepticism under wraps for now. Then that made her think---maybe it was time to fill him in. After all, she did promise that she'd tell him once she had told Catherine.
"Logan---maybe it's time I told you."
The cautious tone of her voice made him halt his hand actions for a second and when he resumed them he asked, "Tell me what? About what happened in Cairo?"
"Yes."
* * *
Jean had been stood outside of Cerebro for going on two hours now. She'd taken a short break about half an hour ago, but until the Professor had identified whatever it was that had invaded their cerebral defences this morning, she didn't want to leave Charles alone for to long. Whatever had happened earlier it had been strong enough to penetrate even Xavier's mind-- -that meant it was serious.
"Hey, what are you doing? Is the Professor using Cerebro?" Scott came down the circular, metallic corridor towards her.
"No, I'm just standing here---and have been for two hours---for the good of my health." Jean retorted with sarcastic humour.
Scott laughed, sidling up to his fiancée and giving her a loving kiss. Running his hand down her hair he studied her face for a moment to determine her mood---using humour as a defence? She only ever did that when she was truly worried about something.
"What is it?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting above his protective shades.
"Something happened this morning---the Professor and I were---I don't know-- -attacked I guess is the only way I can describe it."
"What?! Why wasn't I told?"
Jean rolled her eyes, "We wanted to find out what it was before we worried anyone else about it." She ran her hand down Scott's arm, "It's probably nothing---we psychics can be overly sensitive at times you know." She tried to reassure him, but it didn't help one bit.
"Jean, I'm meant to be leader of this team. How the hell can I react efficiently to any situation that arises if I'm not informed immediately?" Here it was, the leadership complex coming out in him. On a bad day he might even be mistaken for a control freak---but Jean was used to it, in fact it had become one of the things that made Scott---well---Scott! She wouldn't recognise him if he didn't go all 'authority figure' on her once in a while.
"Look Scott, I didn't think it was worth worrying you about until we were sure what we were dealing with, that's all." She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, the pain was still lingering, coming in short waves---but she couldn't get a lock on anything. She was still too inexperienced with her powers; even after all this time, to do that.
Just at that moment there was a faint humming sound in the corridor, followed quickly by a whirling sound as Cerebro's reinforced steel door began to side open. Xavier was soon through the opening and the look on his face instantly told the pair that something was definitely seriously wrong.
"What did you find Charles?" Jean asked with obvious concern as she walked over to meet him as he exited the contraption. Scott following close behind, arms folded over his chest.
Xavier looked from one X-Man to the other, his face rather pale and drawn from spending so much time in Cerebro. "We need to find Ororo, immediately."
Jean and the Professor locked eyes and instantly Scott knew they were having one of the telepathic rendezvous. He knew it shouldn't but it annoyed him intensely, if nothing else he always thought it rude. But he was patient, he waited for them to finish before inquiring, "So what's happening? I presume it has something to do with the girl that turned up yesterday."
The Professor continued along the corridor not saying anything for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Then he suddenly called back to them, "A meeting in the War Room---now." Turning his chair around to face the pair, who hadn't actually moved to follow him yet, he said to Jean, "Contact Bobby and Marie, I'll get hold of Ororo and Logan."
"O. K." Jean prepared to follow Charles orders as the three made their way to the War Room around the corner from Cerebro.
* * *
Catherine came to the edge of the mansion woodland and stopped, falling down on her knees into the grass with the minimum of grace. She felt numb--- completely numb at what Ororo had just told her. But underneath that she could feel anger simmering. Anger at whom, she wasn't quite sure---the Shadow King, Ororo, herself even. She was beginning to wish she'd never come to find her. Maybe it would have been best for everyone if she'd carried on travelling---with Abdul. The sudden thought of him brought a tear to her eye and she wished for all the world that she were with him now in Europe---or wherever he was by now. Maybe he'd gone back to Cairo, where they'd set out on their adventure from.
Having grown up together at St. Catherine's he was as good as a brother to her, they'd been more or less inseparable since he was first brought to the orphanage. Catherine had been just four years old when Abdul arrived, he was six, both his parents having died in the out break of Scarlet Fever that had gripped the cities slums. Just over a year ago they had decided to leave the orphanage together but Abdul hadn't known the real reason why Catherine was so eager to leave. They'd travelled around Europe, doing what they could to survive. Although it hadn't been easy---illegal travellers weren't exactly welcome in Europe in the current climate, with the almost ridiculously fever pitch hysteria over 'asylum seekers' they had to be as inconspicuous as possible. That, plus Catherine was still unsure as to whether she was a mutant or not. If she was, it certainly wouldn't have helped matters much---they constantly heard rumours on their travels that various governments were developing some kind of 'tracking device' to locate suspected mutants---whether they knew they were mutants themselves or not. But they were just rumours, unsubstantiated hearsay.
Abdul had known of her fears but not the source of them---then one night, in the Left-Bank area of Paris, she had snuck off on her own. Two weeks later and here she was in America---all her hopes dashed and information about her parentage that she could have lived without knowing. What was that western saying, about being careful about what you wish for?
"That is very true indeed Catherine."
Catherine almost screamed as she heard the reedy yet somehow powerful voice from behind her. Turning around on the damp grass she looked up to see a tall, thin and deathly pale man emerging from the trees. Then, after the initial shock she thought about what he'd just said, had he read her mind? She knew that there were people out there---in this very school in fact--- that could do that kind of thing.
"Who---who are you?" She asked haltingly, trying and failing miserably to hide her rising fear.
"I'm the man who has been watching you for the last eight years of your life."
Catherine could say nothing in reply, she simply stared up at him, rather perplexed as well as scared.
"You were just wondering how Abdul was, were you not?" The strange man's ashen face began to twitch as he tried to crack a smile---but couldn't quite manage it. So he gave up, the creases of his face and the ones that ran down from behind the dark glasses that covered his eyes, falling down into a semblance of an almost smooth face.
"How did you know?!" She snapped as she clamoured up from the ground quickly. Taking one or two steps back from him, almost subconsciously she then shouted, "Who are you? What do yo want?"
He laughed, a low and dark sound---quite unnerving given his appearance--- he didn't seem capable of making such a forceful noise. But it stopped abruptly as he took a few steps forwards to make up the ground that she'd retreated.
"If you ever want to see your precious Abdul again," He raised his right arm that was clad in the thick black leather of his ankle-length trench coat and placed his thin hand on Catherine's shoulder. "I suggest you make no fuss and come with me---immediately." The man leant in close to her face as he finished the sentence, his putrid breath making Catherine's nose wrinkle.
She stared up at him as she wondered what to do. Run away? Tell the others at the mansion? But this strange man seemed to have powers, what if he really did have Abdul? After all, nobody here knew of him, how could this horrid little man have found out about her 'brother'---unless he had been doing what he claimed he had been? Watching her---studying her every move for the last eight years. The very thought made her panic, her mind clouded and all rational judgement went by the way side.
Catherine remained mute as she let the man guide her, by his cold, bony hand on her shoulder, off into the woods that led to the out-of-bounds area of the mansion's surrounding grounds. Like a calf to the slaughter.
* * *
"I can't believe this Professor," Jean shook her head as her face appeared a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. "Why didn't she ever---"
Jean was stopped half way through her sentence as the automatic doors to the War Room slid open and in walked Ororo, who was looking rather pale and Logan, who had a face like thunder. Scott, who'd been leaning on the central table, straightened up and looked over to Ororo, trying to make his sympathy for her situation obvious but it was difficult to affect that kind of unspoken support when nobody could see the expression in your eyes. Bobby and Marie sat in the far right-hand corner of the room, looking rather sheepish and feeling really quite awkward---they had the distinct feeling that this mission was going to be very different from any that they'd been on before.
"I've filled them in Ororo---on everything that's been going on." The Professor said as he took his position at the head of the oval table that had six high-backed chairs around it.
"Professor why?!" Ororo appeared genuinely hurt, like he'd betrayed her confidence. "What right had you to---"
The Professor cut her off half way through her diatribe with an almost dismissive hand gesture. "Please Ororo; you must understand that it was necessary. We have a very serious problem arising." All eyes in the room were on Ororo, all with the same sympathetic look in them---pity almost, and that only angered her more. The only person who wasn't looking at her was Logan, who seemed to be immersed in his own little world, his already dark scowl getting deeper by the moment.
"Can every body please take a seat." Charles said as he swept his hand across the air to indicate the empty seats before him. Silently they all did as they were asked.
"Something has come to my attention---and it could have dire consequences for you Ororo." He paused, almost seeming reluctant to continue, but he did, "You and Catherine."
Ororo opened her mouth to ask why but Logan's angry voice cut across before she got the chance, "For fucks sake Chuck! Will ya get to the point?" His frustration had reached boiling point and his moody silence was finally broken.
"Logan." Ororo soothed quietly as she rubbed her hand up and down his bicep. But she understood his behaviour---he was angry. Angry at what his wife had been put through and although there was nothing he could do about it, it did stop him from being maddened. Anything that hurt his wife---past or present---affected him deeply, that's just the type of husband he was. And although his overtly protective displays sometimes irritated Ororo, she was more grateful for them than anything else, it was just his way of showing he cared---he couldn't help it.
"Don't you talk to the---"Scott started it Charles defence, but he was cut off by the man himself.
"It's O.K. Scott," He gestured to the X-Men's leader to calm down. "You're right of course Logan---there's no easy way to say this." Xavier looked directly at his Windrider, that same expression as the others in his eyes. "He is still alive---somehow---he survived."
There was a brief chorus of whispered "Whats?" and "Hows?" as Ororo just stared at Xavier, truly pale now and her mouth agape. She instinctively grabbed for Logan's hand and he returned the sentiment tenfold.
"How the hell can he still be alive?! She killed the bastard---she saw him die!" Logan snapped, misdirecting his anger at Charles. He'd obviously never come across the phrase "Don't shoot the messenger."
"Logan, I don't---"The Professor started but at the same time Scott shouted over him, "Just calm the hell down---this isn't the Professor's fault!"
"Keep out of this One-Eye, unless you want yer face rearranged!" Logan stood up briskly, the chair falling over behind him. He leant forwards on the table with his knuckles as Scott---who sat exactly opposite---did likewise. The men were practically eyeball to eyeball and for a moment nobody said a word. Despite the fact that the reason for their---distain for one another had long since passed, they still couldn't abide each other. It was a situation every one at the mansion had learned to live with as they could be at least civil to each other---most of the time.
"Logan, please," Ororo said quietly, giving his shirt sleeve a soft tug, beckoning him to sit. He looked down at her, reluctantly breaking the increasingly tense stand-off. But as soon as he caught sight of his wife's face he soon forgot about the macho posturing. "Let's just listen to what Charles has to say shall we."
Logan shook his head apologetically, "Sure, I'm sorry darlin'." He upturned his chair and sat back down, holding Ororo's hand once more.
Scott sat then too, briefly looking at Jean but all she did was shake her head at him, an angry gleam sparking in her brown eyes. Then she turned away from him with a sharp toss of her head to face the Professor. Bobby and Marie exchanged weary glances once everything had calmed down. They felt like two children recently promoted to the adults table that were rapidly realising that it wasn't as fun as they thought it would be.
"As I was saying, Jean and I felt a 'hostile' presence this morning. We didn't want to worry anybody until we had determined who or what it was. So I've spent the majority of the afternoon in Cerebro---that's when I came across him." Charles stopped for a moment to briefly assess how Ororo was taking all of this because his next revelation was going to be much harder to hear. "Ororo dear---the reason we could never find Catherine was because he has been blocking my path."
"What?" Ororo's eyebrows knitted in complete confusion.
"He's a telepath Ororo---more powerful than any other I have come across before. Almost as powerful as me. We could never find Catherine because he never wanted us to. I had my suspicion this morning---it was Catherine's mind that made contact with us---inadvertently. She probably didn't even realise she was doing it, but I felt a trace---a trace of the presence that I felt in your own mind when you let me see what happened to you in Cairo." Charles sighed, looking down at his clasped hands resting on the table. "I don't know why I didn't pick up on this then---maybe if I had we could of--- "
"Don't blame yourself Charles," Ororo could sense where he was going with this and she wasn't about to let him feel guilty, not after everything he'd done for her. "If he's as powerful as you say he is then there was no way you could have known."
"I should have at least checked for the signs." Charles continued his self- deprecation regardless.
But then Jean stepped in, "Ororo's right Professor---you weren't to know."
"So what do we do now?" Scott interjected, trying to get back to the issue at hand. "Is he a direct threat or what?"
"At the moment I think it is imperative that we---" The Professor suddenly stopped half way through his sentence, his light blue eyes losing their specific focus.
"Oh my God!" Jean whispered as her lesser talents slowly became aware of what Xavier had already picked up on.
"What? What is it?!" Logan shouted, his usual impatience showing through.
"He's here---he has Catherine."
-TBC-
Thank-you to my reviewers, now for chapter seven...
Ororo sat at the desk of her plant filled classroom alone, desperately trying to concentrate on the essay in front of her. But after reading the line, "---and it was on this day that the Japanese surrender, bringing WWII to an official close." she gave up the ghost, gathered Artie's essay with the ten others and began filing the work away. Maybe she'd try again later-- -but she very much doubted that she'd be in the right frame of mind then either. She just couldn't get the events of earlier out of her head, Catherine's reaction had been---strange.
Taking a sip of her by now lukewarm coffee that Bobby had so thoughtfully brought for her, Ororo's mind wondered back to her troubled niece. After she had told her almost everything that had happened, including the fact that she had woken up in a hospital bed about three weeks after the incident, with no memory of how she had got there or who had taken her. Ororo had wanted to explain why she'd never come back for Catherine. Of course, she had tried---years into her stay at the mansion she had finally managed to relay the story to the professor and they had used Cerebro to try and locate her---but Xavier could never find a reading. Not even a residual psyche---that's why Ororo had given her up for dead. At peace perhaps with Karima and the rest of her family. With that belief she had been able to---at last---close that terrible chapter of her life and move on. A new life, a new family, a new love---a new hope. Memories of what had happened still haunted her from time to time---memories of what she did in particular. But that's when she could talk to the Professor, she could confide in him, without having to burden Logan with the problems of her past---she figured he had enough trouble coming to terms with his own. She knew now that she had probably been foolish in such a presumption but at the time it seemed preferable to dragging up the painful past for no reason. Until that reason had turned up on the doorstep.
Now all she wanted to do was explain this to Catherine---explain why she'd never come for her. But after their talk she had gone off for a walk, she said she needed time to think but there was something more to it than that. Ororo got the distinct impression that she simply didn't want to be near her---or maybe she was just being paranoid. After all she had just been informed that her father was a murderous monster---but also that Ororo was responsible for his death. It was all such a damn mess, a real can of worms.
Ororo closed her eyes and sighed, placing the half drunken cup of coffee back on the desk. How was she going to get Catherine to come round, to see that she did what she had to do? She didn't know. What she wouldn't give for a stiff drink now! But she didn't think Charles would be all that impressed by his senior teacher drinking in class---in the middle of the afternoon! Besides she didn't really drink, she left that pastime to her husband. Speaking of which---
"Knock, knock."
Ororo opened her eyes to see Logan at the doorway with what looked like another (steaming hot) mug of coffee in his hand.
"Come in." She gave him her best smile but even that appeared weary.
Making his way over to her, he snatched up one of the desk chairs on his way. Bringing it to the front of her desk he swivelled it round so that his arms rested on the back and set the mug down carefully in front of her.
"So, how did it go? With Catherine I mean." Logan reached over the desk and took one of Ororo's hands in his.
She sighed softly again and shook her head. Shrugging her shoulders slightly she said, "I'm not sure---she was very quiet."
Logan nodded his head absently, "Well it was a lot to take in, she came here expecting to find her mother. She'll be O. K---you just need to give her some time." He brought the tips of her fingers to his lips, kissing them softly.
"I hope so." Ororo replied quietly, all the while wondering what she had done to have such an understanding and loving husband. Logan's transformation over the years had been astonishing---it proved to her that underneath all the rough if you looked hard enough you could still find a gem.
"I was kinda hoping to meet her---if that's O. K. Or do ya think I should leave it for a bit?" Logan sounded a little hesitant in his request.
Ororo thought about it for a moment before replying, "Maybe this evening--- I'm sure she'd like to meet her new Uncle!"
Logan gave a brief chuckle, "Uncle." He repeated quietly, he'd never had a relative before (in the context of his short memory) and a wife didn't quite count. This was a new one for him, but he liked the sound of it.
Thinking back to Catherine's behaviour Ororo thought and then said aloud, "When she's got over the shock of everything, I think she'll settle in here very well." But then she frowned as a possibility she hadn't really considered came to her.
"What?" Logan asked, noticing the expression immediately and giving her cheek an affectionate stroke with his free hand.
"What if she decides that she doesn't want to stay here?"
Logan gave her a reassuring smile before getting up from the chair and making his way around the desk to stand behind her. Placing his hands on her tense shoulders he began to massage her taught muscles, "There's no reason why she wouldn't want to stay. I mean, the kid grew up in an orphanage---you know what that's like. She's just found the only family in the world that she has---why would she leave?"
#Because she probably blames me.# Ororo thought ruefully to herself, but she hadn't told Logan the whole story yet so she had to keep the reasons for her scepticism under wraps for now. Then that made her think---maybe it was time to fill him in. After all, she did promise that she'd tell him once she had told Catherine.
"Logan---maybe it's time I told you."
The cautious tone of her voice made him halt his hand actions for a second and when he resumed them he asked, "Tell me what? About what happened in Cairo?"
"Yes."
* * *
Jean had been stood outside of Cerebro for going on two hours now. She'd taken a short break about half an hour ago, but until the Professor had identified whatever it was that had invaded their cerebral defences this morning, she didn't want to leave Charles alone for to long. Whatever had happened earlier it had been strong enough to penetrate even Xavier's mind-- -that meant it was serious.
"Hey, what are you doing? Is the Professor using Cerebro?" Scott came down the circular, metallic corridor towards her.
"No, I'm just standing here---and have been for two hours---for the good of my health." Jean retorted with sarcastic humour.
Scott laughed, sidling up to his fiancée and giving her a loving kiss. Running his hand down her hair he studied her face for a moment to determine her mood---using humour as a defence? She only ever did that when she was truly worried about something.
"What is it?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting above his protective shades.
"Something happened this morning---the Professor and I were---I don't know-- -attacked I guess is the only way I can describe it."
"What?! Why wasn't I told?"
Jean rolled her eyes, "We wanted to find out what it was before we worried anyone else about it." She ran her hand down Scott's arm, "It's probably nothing---we psychics can be overly sensitive at times you know." She tried to reassure him, but it didn't help one bit.
"Jean, I'm meant to be leader of this team. How the hell can I react efficiently to any situation that arises if I'm not informed immediately?" Here it was, the leadership complex coming out in him. On a bad day he might even be mistaken for a control freak---but Jean was used to it, in fact it had become one of the things that made Scott---well---Scott! She wouldn't recognise him if he didn't go all 'authority figure' on her once in a while.
"Look Scott, I didn't think it was worth worrying you about until we were sure what we were dealing with, that's all." She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, the pain was still lingering, coming in short waves---but she couldn't get a lock on anything. She was still too inexperienced with her powers; even after all this time, to do that.
Just at that moment there was a faint humming sound in the corridor, followed quickly by a whirling sound as Cerebro's reinforced steel door began to side open. Xavier was soon through the opening and the look on his face instantly told the pair that something was definitely seriously wrong.
"What did you find Charles?" Jean asked with obvious concern as she walked over to meet him as he exited the contraption. Scott following close behind, arms folded over his chest.
Xavier looked from one X-Man to the other, his face rather pale and drawn from spending so much time in Cerebro. "We need to find Ororo, immediately."
Jean and the Professor locked eyes and instantly Scott knew they were having one of the telepathic rendezvous. He knew it shouldn't but it annoyed him intensely, if nothing else he always thought it rude. But he was patient, he waited for them to finish before inquiring, "So what's happening? I presume it has something to do with the girl that turned up yesterday."
The Professor continued along the corridor not saying anything for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Then he suddenly called back to them, "A meeting in the War Room---now." Turning his chair around to face the pair, who hadn't actually moved to follow him yet, he said to Jean, "Contact Bobby and Marie, I'll get hold of Ororo and Logan."
"O. K." Jean prepared to follow Charles orders as the three made their way to the War Room around the corner from Cerebro.
* * *
Catherine came to the edge of the mansion woodland and stopped, falling down on her knees into the grass with the minimum of grace. She felt numb--- completely numb at what Ororo had just told her. But underneath that she could feel anger simmering. Anger at whom, she wasn't quite sure---the Shadow King, Ororo, herself even. She was beginning to wish she'd never come to find her. Maybe it would have been best for everyone if she'd carried on travelling---with Abdul. The sudden thought of him brought a tear to her eye and she wished for all the world that she were with him now in Europe---or wherever he was by now. Maybe he'd gone back to Cairo, where they'd set out on their adventure from.
Having grown up together at St. Catherine's he was as good as a brother to her, they'd been more or less inseparable since he was first brought to the orphanage. Catherine had been just four years old when Abdul arrived, he was six, both his parents having died in the out break of Scarlet Fever that had gripped the cities slums. Just over a year ago they had decided to leave the orphanage together but Abdul hadn't known the real reason why Catherine was so eager to leave. They'd travelled around Europe, doing what they could to survive. Although it hadn't been easy---illegal travellers weren't exactly welcome in Europe in the current climate, with the almost ridiculously fever pitch hysteria over 'asylum seekers' they had to be as inconspicuous as possible. That, plus Catherine was still unsure as to whether she was a mutant or not. If she was, it certainly wouldn't have helped matters much---they constantly heard rumours on their travels that various governments were developing some kind of 'tracking device' to locate suspected mutants---whether they knew they were mutants themselves or not. But they were just rumours, unsubstantiated hearsay.
Abdul had known of her fears but not the source of them---then one night, in the Left-Bank area of Paris, she had snuck off on her own. Two weeks later and here she was in America---all her hopes dashed and information about her parentage that she could have lived without knowing. What was that western saying, about being careful about what you wish for?
"That is very true indeed Catherine."
Catherine almost screamed as she heard the reedy yet somehow powerful voice from behind her. Turning around on the damp grass she looked up to see a tall, thin and deathly pale man emerging from the trees. Then, after the initial shock she thought about what he'd just said, had he read her mind? She knew that there were people out there---in this very school in fact--- that could do that kind of thing.
"Who---who are you?" She asked haltingly, trying and failing miserably to hide her rising fear.
"I'm the man who has been watching you for the last eight years of your life."
Catherine could say nothing in reply, she simply stared up at him, rather perplexed as well as scared.
"You were just wondering how Abdul was, were you not?" The strange man's ashen face began to twitch as he tried to crack a smile---but couldn't quite manage it. So he gave up, the creases of his face and the ones that ran down from behind the dark glasses that covered his eyes, falling down into a semblance of an almost smooth face.
"How did you know?!" She snapped as she clamoured up from the ground quickly. Taking one or two steps back from him, almost subconsciously she then shouted, "Who are you? What do yo want?"
He laughed, a low and dark sound---quite unnerving given his appearance--- he didn't seem capable of making such a forceful noise. But it stopped abruptly as he took a few steps forwards to make up the ground that she'd retreated.
"If you ever want to see your precious Abdul again," He raised his right arm that was clad in the thick black leather of his ankle-length trench coat and placed his thin hand on Catherine's shoulder. "I suggest you make no fuss and come with me---immediately." The man leant in close to her face as he finished the sentence, his putrid breath making Catherine's nose wrinkle.
She stared up at him as she wondered what to do. Run away? Tell the others at the mansion? But this strange man seemed to have powers, what if he really did have Abdul? After all, nobody here knew of him, how could this horrid little man have found out about her 'brother'---unless he had been doing what he claimed he had been? Watching her---studying her every move for the last eight years. The very thought made her panic, her mind clouded and all rational judgement went by the way side.
Catherine remained mute as she let the man guide her, by his cold, bony hand on her shoulder, off into the woods that led to the out-of-bounds area of the mansion's surrounding grounds. Like a calf to the slaughter.
* * *
"I can't believe this Professor," Jean shook her head as her face appeared a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. "Why didn't she ever---"
Jean was stopped half way through her sentence as the automatic doors to the War Room slid open and in walked Ororo, who was looking rather pale and Logan, who had a face like thunder. Scott, who'd been leaning on the central table, straightened up and looked over to Ororo, trying to make his sympathy for her situation obvious but it was difficult to affect that kind of unspoken support when nobody could see the expression in your eyes. Bobby and Marie sat in the far right-hand corner of the room, looking rather sheepish and feeling really quite awkward---they had the distinct feeling that this mission was going to be very different from any that they'd been on before.
"I've filled them in Ororo---on everything that's been going on." The Professor said as he took his position at the head of the oval table that had six high-backed chairs around it.
"Professor why?!" Ororo appeared genuinely hurt, like he'd betrayed her confidence. "What right had you to---"
The Professor cut her off half way through her diatribe with an almost dismissive hand gesture. "Please Ororo; you must understand that it was necessary. We have a very serious problem arising." All eyes in the room were on Ororo, all with the same sympathetic look in them---pity almost, and that only angered her more. The only person who wasn't looking at her was Logan, who seemed to be immersed in his own little world, his already dark scowl getting deeper by the moment.
"Can every body please take a seat." Charles said as he swept his hand across the air to indicate the empty seats before him. Silently they all did as they were asked.
"Something has come to my attention---and it could have dire consequences for you Ororo." He paused, almost seeming reluctant to continue, but he did, "You and Catherine."
Ororo opened her mouth to ask why but Logan's angry voice cut across before she got the chance, "For fucks sake Chuck! Will ya get to the point?" His frustration had reached boiling point and his moody silence was finally broken.
"Logan." Ororo soothed quietly as she rubbed her hand up and down his bicep. But she understood his behaviour---he was angry. Angry at what his wife had been put through and although there was nothing he could do about it, it did stop him from being maddened. Anything that hurt his wife---past or present---affected him deeply, that's just the type of husband he was. And although his overtly protective displays sometimes irritated Ororo, she was more grateful for them than anything else, it was just his way of showing he cared---he couldn't help it.
"Don't you talk to the---"Scott started it Charles defence, but he was cut off by the man himself.
"It's O.K. Scott," He gestured to the X-Men's leader to calm down. "You're right of course Logan---there's no easy way to say this." Xavier looked directly at his Windrider, that same expression as the others in his eyes. "He is still alive---somehow---he survived."
There was a brief chorus of whispered "Whats?" and "Hows?" as Ororo just stared at Xavier, truly pale now and her mouth agape. She instinctively grabbed for Logan's hand and he returned the sentiment tenfold.
"How the hell can he still be alive?! She killed the bastard---she saw him die!" Logan snapped, misdirecting his anger at Charles. He'd obviously never come across the phrase "Don't shoot the messenger."
"Logan, I don't---"The Professor started but at the same time Scott shouted over him, "Just calm the hell down---this isn't the Professor's fault!"
"Keep out of this One-Eye, unless you want yer face rearranged!" Logan stood up briskly, the chair falling over behind him. He leant forwards on the table with his knuckles as Scott---who sat exactly opposite---did likewise. The men were practically eyeball to eyeball and for a moment nobody said a word. Despite the fact that the reason for their---distain for one another had long since passed, they still couldn't abide each other. It was a situation every one at the mansion had learned to live with as they could be at least civil to each other---most of the time.
"Logan, please," Ororo said quietly, giving his shirt sleeve a soft tug, beckoning him to sit. He looked down at her, reluctantly breaking the increasingly tense stand-off. But as soon as he caught sight of his wife's face he soon forgot about the macho posturing. "Let's just listen to what Charles has to say shall we."
Logan shook his head apologetically, "Sure, I'm sorry darlin'." He upturned his chair and sat back down, holding Ororo's hand once more.
Scott sat then too, briefly looking at Jean but all she did was shake her head at him, an angry gleam sparking in her brown eyes. Then she turned away from him with a sharp toss of her head to face the Professor. Bobby and Marie exchanged weary glances once everything had calmed down. They felt like two children recently promoted to the adults table that were rapidly realising that it wasn't as fun as they thought it would be.
"As I was saying, Jean and I felt a 'hostile' presence this morning. We didn't want to worry anybody until we had determined who or what it was. So I've spent the majority of the afternoon in Cerebro---that's when I came across him." Charles stopped for a moment to briefly assess how Ororo was taking all of this because his next revelation was going to be much harder to hear. "Ororo dear---the reason we could never find Catherine was because he has been blocking my path."
"What?" Ororo's eyebrows knitted in complete confusion.
"He's a telepath Ororo---more powerful than any other I have come across before. Almost as powerful as me. We could never find Catherine because he never wanted us to. I had my suspicion this morning---it was Catherine's mind that made contact with us---inadvertently. She probably didn't even realise she was doing it, but I felt a trace---a trace of the presence that I felt in your own mind when you let me see what happened to you in Cairo." Charles sighed, looking down at his clasped hands resting on the table. "I don't know why I didn't pick up on this then---maybe if I had we could of--- "
"Don't blame yourself Charles," Ororo could sense where he was going with this and she wasn't about to let him feel guilty, not after everything he'd done for her. "If he's as powerful as you say he is then there was no way you could have known."
"I should have at least checked for the signs." Charles continued his self- deprecation regardless.
But then Jean stepped in, "Ororo's right Professor---you weren't to know."
"So what do we do now?" Scott interjected, trying to get back to the issue at hand. "Is he a direct threat or what?"
"At the moment I think it is imperative that we---" The Professor suddenly stopped half way through his sentence, his light blue eyes losing their specific focus.
"Oh my God!" Jean whispered as her lesser talents slowly became aware of what Xavier had already picked up on.
"What? What is it?!" Logan shouted, his usual impatience showing through.
"He's here---he has Catherine."
-TBC-
