Chapter Twelve
My long awaited, much anticipated next chapter. Also, look for my Epilogue! I'll finish it soon, I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block.
They reached the warehouse in plenty of time, but it took longer to secure the area than they had expected. There were at least thirty guards, though with Jean's help it was simplicity itself to identify them. The hard part was taking them all down silently. By the time the task was completed they were ten minutes until delivery was scheduled. It took two more precious minutes to get everyone into the support structure above the delivery site. About twenty feet below them was a large cage containing at least sixty mutant children, none of them over the age of 13. Ororo's eyes narrowed as she saw one of the man rough grab a small flame-colored boy and drag him forward. With difficulty she controlled her urge to flay him with a lightning bolt and waited for Scott's signal.
"We are ready to move out," Scott whispered into the com links. "On my mark."
"Ororo, look!" Jean thought telepathically. Ororo looked down from the recesses of the building and saw Kurt Wagner emerge from the shadows of the lower floor. The X-Men froze in surprise, Ororo amongst them.
"Michael Waverly," Kurt said, his voice echoing in the empty corners of the room. The man holding the little boy's arm paused and then shoved him back into the cage. As he fell to the floor and curled up amongst his fellows, the Michael turned to face the blue mutant.
"Padre!" "Good to see you again," he said in an almost pleasant voice. Ororo stiffened at the casual, knowing tone in the man's voice. "And I see you have changed your clothes as well." "Those robes always were annoying."
Kurt fairly hissed at Michael, "Well, lucky for you, in a few minutes you won't have to worry about much of anything."
"Please, Kurt, spare me your empty threats." "You weren't very effective last time and I doubt that time has improved you." He gave him an evil, mocking grin. "You aren't just a freak, Padre, you're a pathetic freak." Michael motioned to his men, more of the back-alley thugs that had attacked the X-Men in the other warehouse. The miscreants slowly advanced on the fierce-looking mutant, watchfulness heavy on their features.
"We have to help him," Ororo said quietly but urgently into the com unit. She was desperately worried for her gentle suitor's safety.
"Not until we see how involved he is," Scott hissed back. Ororo saw Wolverine cautiously nod agreement.
"Oh for goodness sake, he's a priest, how much can he possibly hurt you?" Michael asked, annoyed with his hirelings. Ororo's mind fastened on the words "he's a priest," replaying them several times before it sunk in. Angrily she pushed it aside to concentrate on what was important. Kurt was in danger, she would sort the rest out later.
Suddenly it was if a switch had been thrown. Kurt snapped his wrists and two concealed sword-like knives fell down almost six inches past his fingertips. He quickly leapt and teleported behind one of the men. Knocking him out with one quick kick, he blocked another man's swing with his steel-reinforced forearm. Grinning chillingly as the thug howled in pain, Kurt vanished again. He decimated seven men before Michael screamed at them to forget about quiet and just use the guns. By the time most of them had pulled their weapons they were already unconscious. The one who did manage to aim before Kurt finished the others was hit on the back of the head with the side of the mutant's left blade.
Michael pulled a gun, the silencer already on and fired off three rapid shots at Kurt. He missed badly as the German teleported behind him and then to the right. Finally, tired of toying with the man, Kurt leapt out of midair in front of the child-smuggler and knocked the gun from his hand. He delivered a vicious backhand, watching with satisfaction as Michael hit the ground hard. Reaching down, Kurt retracted his left sword and grabbed the man's throat. He pulled Michael up slightly, holding his right blade inches from his chest.
When Scott saw Kurt put his sword to Waverly's chest he motioned the X-Men to action. Wolverine and Rogue took the flank, targeted on getting the kids out. Iceman and Scott covered the exits in case more unwelcome people arrived. Jean and Ororo advanced on the two men who were locked in dispute. Jean relayed the orders. "Don't let them see you, stay behind the crates and be careful!" They stopped when they were three feet away, waiting for the right moment to step in.
Michael opened his eyes, obviously trying to clear them from the stupor that Kurt's blow had induced. He looked fearful, but not properly cowed. "What now, Nightcrawler?" "Are you going to kill me?" He sneered up at his captor, blood running from his nose and mouth. "Is my death really worth your immortal soul?"
Kurt's face was twisted in loathing as he glared down at the man, a dreadful understanding in his eyes. He wanted to kill. Kurt's expression must have conveyed his feelings perfectly because Michael Waverly's nerve finally broke. His face registered supreme terror as Kurt's mouth twisted into a warped version of an amused look. "I guess I will see you in hell, Michael," he told the man. His arm moved back, ready to strike.
"NO!" Ororo said, stepping out of shadows. She gave Kurt a desperate look. "Please, Kurt, don't kill him."
"Ororo," Kurt growled, his eyes wild but unblinking. "What are you doing here?"
"Listen to me, Kurt," she pleaded. "We can take him and make sure he never harms another child again."
"I could insure that with a flick of my wrist," he replied in an agitated voice.
"Kurt, you do not want to do this," Ororo told him.
"Yes, Ororo, I do," Kurt said, his voice unable to convey the multitude of emotions he was feeling. His shoulders sagged slightly but his voice never wavered. "But it is not what is right." Ororo almost sobbed with relief. Kurt pushed Michael away from him and Wolverine took none to gentle custody of the disgusting man. Nightcrawler abruptly bamfed away. Ororo's eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for him, suddenly Jean's voice was in her mind.
"He's outside, walking the opposite way from the jet," Jean told her. "We'll take care of this, you go to him."
Ororo shot her a grateful look and took off for the exit. She opened the door and ran out into the rain, searching for Kurt's familiar figure in the gloom. "Kurt!" she called, spotting him. She saw him freeze when he heard her cry. She ran to him, standing under the overhang of a nearby building to escape the falling water. "Kurt, please talk to me."
"Ororo," he croaked, completely overcome. "I do not know what to say."
"Just tell me what is going on," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "I just want to understand." She needed to hear what Kurt was hiding, needed to know if he was the man she thought he was. She didn't think she could stand it if he couldn't be with her, she needed him too much. "Just tell me the truth."
Kurt's face displayed infinite sadness. A faraway look entered his eyes as he sunk into the painful memories. Finally he began to speak. "A lifetime ago, I was a priest in the Catholic church." "I wanted so badly to make a difference and to serve God by giving of myself." A self-mocking expression crossed his face. "I can't even bear to think of how naive and trusting I was then." "I was so sure that if I had faith that everything would come out right." He smiled grimly, "God works in mysterious ways." Ororo shuddered at his tone, stepping closer to the tortured mutant. He continued his narrative as if he were in a trance. His voice was flat, dead. "I served in a poor but well-populated church in New York City, working for the good of all and helping whenever and wherever I could." "Then one day a new priest joined us in our industry." "His name was Father Waverly."
Kurt paused, perhaps looking for a reaction in Ororo's face. She kept her features still, not wanting to give him any reason to stop his account. "Go on," she said softly.
"When I first met him, he did not shy away from any part of my mutation." "We were even friends of a sort; he was the only one who called me Padre." "He seemed to be an accepting, open, friendly person with little to hide." "Gott, how wrong I was." There was another pause, but this time Kurt started talking again on his own. "I was scheduled to hear an important confession that day, but at the last moment the young woman called to say that she would not be able to make it." "I decided I would pass the time in prayer in the small antechamber near the back of the Church." "I entered the room without knocking, expecting it to be empty." Kurt's voice shuddered. "I saw Waverly in there with an eight year old boy." "The boy, he was crying silently, and the expression on his face was so betrayed." Kurt took another deep breath. "Waverly had just finished-," Kurt's voice broke off and tears were streaming openly down his face. "I should have known, Ororo, I should have suspected!" "And then he tried to tell me that nothing was wrong, that son of a-," his curse was cut off when he slammed his fist into the brick wall. Kurt blinked down at the blood pouring off his hand. "I was so angry," he whispered. "I picked up a letter opener from the desk, it was more than adequate, I would have been able to kill him with it." He looked down shamefully, full of self hatred, "I hesitated and he pulled out a gun." "For the first time in my life, I wasn't fast enough." "He shot me in the stomach and then he left."
Ororo also began to cry. Tears of frustrated empathy flowed down her angelic features and mingled with the rain on the ground. With a supreme act of willpower she did not move forward. She ached to put her arms around him and tell him everything was all right, but she knew Kurt deserved more than empty promises. Things were not all right. "It wasn't your fault," Ororo whispered. Despite her soft tone, her words were full of unshakeable firmness.
Kurt shook his head. "How many children did he hurt because of my inattention?" he asked. "And how many more for my inaction?" "I couldn't give those children back their innocence, but I thought that perhaps his blood might give them some justice." "In any case, I could not stay in the priesthood." "How could I lead people to God when he was so far from my own heart?" "I told the police and my brother's what had happened; Waverly had long since left New York and no trace of him could be found." "I then informed the others of my decision." "I was adamant, not listening to any of their arguments." "When I left the priesthood I had little money, I lived for many months in an abandoned Church, praying and making these tattoos." "They insured that I wouldn't forget or hide from my duty to those children." "Eventually I came out of my seclusion, determined to continue my life in some meaningful way until an opportunity to hunt down and kill Michael Waverly arose." "I got a job as an editor and filled my days volunteering, working, and setting up a network of information." "I cautiously searched for him." "I would occasionally spending time watching people in the night clubs, hoping one day I might serendipitously run into him." "A few days before I met you I received my first really promising tip." "I investigated but hit a large information barrier, I had gone to that club to unwind from the frustration of the day."
Kurt took a deep breath, wiping away his tears. Finally he reached out an took Ororo's hands in his. Looking deeply into her eyes he spoke again before she could say anything. "I didn't think I would ever discover anything like you after I left the Church." "I had thought I would find Waverly and then live out the rest of my life trying to make amends for killing another of God's children." "The love I feel for you, Ororo, is all-encompassing." "It's something I never expected, would never have dared to dream of." "It's because I love you so much, that I am telling you that you deserve more than I am." Kurt's voice broke slightly. "I can give you nothing but myself, and I fear that I am broken beyond repair."
Ororo stepped forward, her face showing nothing but love and understanding. "You are all I want Kurt." Ororo whispered. "And I am not letting you go." She turned and pressed her lips desperately against his, needing the reassurance of his touch. From the moment she had seen him approach Michael Waverly he had seemed half gone from her, and now she needed to know that he was back. He couldn't leave her again, she couldn't bear it.
"Marry me, Ororo," Kurt whispered into her hair. "Let me love you as your husband." "I can't live without you anymore."
Ororo could barely register the sensations she was feeling. Her mind was still dazed with the heart-stopping, love filled kiss and now her senses were further overloaded by his disconcerting words. She was trapped in a whirlwind of emotional upheaval that almost drove her to distraction; but if there was one thing Storm was good at, it was dealing with whirlwinds. She pushed away everything as she contemplated Kurt's question. Her eyes clouded into white and the rain was lit by a sudden crash of lightning. "Yes, Kurt," she replied softly. "I'll marry you."
My long awaited, much anticipated next chapter. Also, look for my Epilogue! I'll finish it soon, I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block.
They reached the warehouse in plenty of time, but it took longer to secure the area than they had expected. There were at least thirty guards, though with Jean's help it was simplicity itself to identify them. The hard part was taking them all down silently. By the time the task was completed they were ten minutes until delivery was scheduled. It took two more precious minutes to get everyone into the support structure above the delivery site. About twenty feet below them was a large cage containing at least sixty mutant children, none of them over the age of 13. Ororo's eyes narrowed as she saw one of the man rough grab a small flame-colored boy and drag him forward. With difficulty she controlled her urge to flay him with a lightning bolt and waited for Scott's signal.
"We are ready to move out," Scott whispered into the com links. "On my mark."
"Ororo, look!" Jean thought telepathically. Ororo looked down from the recesses of the building and saw Kurt Wagner emerge from the shadows of the lower floor. The X-Men froze in surprise, Ororo amongst them.
"Michael Waverly," Kurt said, his voice echoing in the empty corners of the room. The man holding the little boy's arm paused and then shoved him back into the cage. As he fell to the floor and curled up amongst his fellows, the Michael turned to face the blue mutant.
"Padre!" "Good to see you again," he said in an almost pleasant voice. Ororo stiffened at the casual, knowing tone in the man's voice. "And I see you have changed your clothes as well." "Those robes always were annoying."
Kurt fairly hissed at Michael, "Well, lucky for you, in a few minutes you won't have to worry about much of anything."
"Please, Kurt, spare me your empty threats." "You weren't very effective last time and I doubt that time has improved you." He gave him an evil, mocking grin. "You aren't just a freak, Padre, you're a pathetic freak." Michael motioned to his men, more of the back-alley thugs that had attacked the X-Men in the other warehouse. The miscreants slowly advanced on the fierce-looking mutant, watchfulness heavy on their features.
"We have to help him," Ororo said quietly but urgently into the com unit. She was desperately worried for her gentle suitor's safety.
"Not until we see how involved he is," Scott hissed back. Ororo saw Wolverine cautiously nod agreement.
"Oh for goodness sake, he's a priest, how much can he possibly hurt you?" Michael asked, annoyed with his hirelings. Ororo's mind fastened on the words "he's a priest," replaying them several times before it sunk in. Angrily she pushed it aside to concentrate on what was important. Kurt was in danger, she would sort the rest out later.
Suddenly it was if a switch had been thrown. Kurt snapped his wrists and two concealed sword-like knives fell down almost six inches past his fingertips. He quickly leapt and teleported behind one of the men. Knocking him out with one quick kick, he blocked another man's swing with his steel-reinforced forearm. Grinning chillingly as the thug howled in pain, Kurt vanished again. He decimated seven men before Michael screamed at them to forget about quiet and just use the guns. By the time most of them had pulled their weapons they were already unconscious. The one who did manage to aim before Kurt finished the others was hit on the back of the head with the side of the mutant's left blade.
Michael pulled a gun, the silencer already on and fired off three rapid shots at Kurt. He missed badly as the German teleported behind him and then to the right. Finally, tired of toying with the man, Kurt leapt out of midair in front of the child-smuggler and knocked the gun from his hand. He delivered a vicious backhand, watching with satisfaction as Michael hit the ground hard. Reaching down, Kurt retracted his left sword and grabbed the man's throat. He pulled Michael up slightly, holding his right blade inches from his chest.
When Scott saw Kurt put his sword to Waverly's chest he motioned the X-Men to action. Wolverine and Rogue took the flank, targeted on getting the kids out. Iceman and Scott covered the exits in case more unwelcome people arrived. Jean and Ororo advanced on the two men who were locked in dispute. Jean relayed the orders. "Don't let them see you, stay behind the crates and be careful!" They stopped when they were three feet away, waiting for the right moment to step in.
Michael opened his eyes, obviously trying to clear them from the stupor that Kurt's blow had induced. He looked fearful, but not properly cowed. "What now, Nightcrawler?" "Are you going to kill me?" He sneered up at his captor, blood running from his nose and mouth. "Is my death really worth your immortal soul?"
Kurt's face was twisted in loathing as he glared down at the man, a dreadful understanding in his eyes. He wanted to kill. Kurt's expression must have conveyed his feelings perfectly because Michael Waverly's nerve finally broke. His face registered supreme terror as Kurt's mouth twisted into a warped version of an amused look. "I guess I will see you in hell, Michael," he told the man. His arm moved back, ready to strike.
"NO!" Ororo said, stepping out of shadows. She gave Kurt a desperate look. "Please, Kurt, don't kill him."
"Ororo," Kurt growled, his eyes wild but unblinking. "What are you doing here?"
"Listen to me, Kurt," she pleaded. "We can take him and make sure he never harms another child again."
"I could insure that with a flick of my wrist," he replied in an agitated voice.
"Kurt, you do not want to do this," Ororo told him.
"Yes, Ororo, I do," Kurt said, his voice unable to convey the multitude of emotions he was feeling. His shoulders sagged slightly but his voice never wavered. "But it is not what is right." Ororo almost sobbed with relief. Kurt pushed Michael away from him and Wolverine took none to gentle custody of the disgusting man. Nightcrawler abruptly bamfed away. Ororo's eyes frantically scanned the room, looking for him, suddenly Jean's voice was in her mind.
"He's outside, walking the opposite way from the jet," Jean told her. "We'll take care of this, you go to him."
Ororo shot her a grateful look and took off for the exit. She opened the door and ran out into the rain, searching for Kurt's familiar figure in the gloom. "Kurt!" she called, spotting him. She saw him freeze when he heard her cry. She ran to him, standing under the overhang of a nearby building to escape the falling water. "Kurt, please talk to me."
"Ororo," he croaked, completely overcome. "I do not know what to say."
"Just tell me what is going on," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "I just want to understand." She needed to hear what Kurt was hiding, needed to know if he was the man she thought he was. She didn't think she could stand it if he couldn't be with her, she needed him too much. "Just tell me the truth."
Kurt's face displayed infinite sadness. A faraway look entered his eyes as he sunk into the painful memories. Finally he began to speak. "A lifetime ago, I was a priest in the Catholic church." "I wanted so badly to make a difference and to serve God by giving of myself." A self-mocking expression crossed his face. "I can't even bear to think of how naive and trusting I was then." "I was so sure that if I had faith that everything would come out right." He smiled grimly, "God works in mysterious ways." Ororo shuddered at his tone, stepping closer to the tortured mutant. He continued his narrative as if he were in a trance. His voice was flat, dead. "I served in a poor but well-populated church in New York City, working for the good of all and helping whenever and wherever I could." "Then one day a new priest joined us in our industry." "His name was Father Waverly."
Kurt paused, perhaps looking for a reaction in Ororo's face. She kept her features still, not wanting to give him any reason to stop his account. "Go on," she said softly.
"When I first met him, he did not shy away from any part of my mutation." "We were even friends of a sort; he was the only one who called me Padre." "He seemed to be an accepting, open, friendly person with little to hide." "Gott, how wrong I was." There was another pause, but this time Kurt started talking again on his own. "I was scheduled to hear an important confession that day, but at the last moment the young woman called to say that she would not be able to make it." "I decided I would pass the time in prayer in the small antechamber near the back of the Church." "I entered the room without knocking, expecting it to be empty." Kurt's voice shuddered. "I saw Waverly in there with an eight year old boy." "The boy, he was crying silently, and the expression on his face was so betrayed." Kurt took another deep breath. "Waverly had just finished-," Kurt's voice broke off and tears were streaming openly down his face. "I should have known, Ororo, I should have suspected!" "And then he tried to tell me that nothing was wrong, that son of a-," his curse was cut off when he slammed his fist into the brick wall. Kurt blinked down at the blood pouring off his hand. "I was so angry," he whispered. "I picked up a letter opener from the desk, it was more than adequate, I would have been able to kill him with it." He looked down shamefully, full of self hatred, "I hesitated and he pulled out a gun." "For the first time in my life, I wasn't fast enough." "He shot me in the stomach and then he left."
Ororo also began to cry. Tears of frustrated empathy flowed down her angelic features and mingled with the rain on the ground. With a supreme act of willpower she did not move forward. She ached to put her arms around him and tell him everything was all right, but she knew Kurt deserved more than empty promises. Things were not all right. "It wasn't your fault," Ororo whispered. Despite her soft tone, her words were full of unshakeable firmness.
Kurt shook his head. "How many children did he hurt because of my inattention?" he asked. "And how many more for my inaction?" "I couldn't give those children back their innocence, but I thought that perhaps his blood might give them some justice." "In any case, I could not stay in the priesthood." "How could I lead people to God when he was so far from my own heart?" "I told the police and my brother's what had happened; Waverly had long since left New York and no trace of him could be found." "I then informed the others of my decision." "I was adamant, not listening to any of their arguments." "When I left the priesthood I had little money, I lived for many months in an abandoned Church, praying and making these tattoos." "They insured that I wouldn't forget or hide from my duty to those children." "Eventually I came out of my seclusion, determined to continue my life in some meaningful way until an opportunity to hunt down and kill Michael Waverly arose." "I got a job as an editor and filled my days volunteering, working, and setting up a network of information." "I cautiously searched for him." "I would occasionally spending time watching people in the night clubs, hoping one day I might serendipitously run into him." "A few days before I met you I received my first really promising tip." "I investigated but hit a large information barrier, I had gone to that club to unwind from the frustration of the day."
Kurt took a deep breath, wiping away his tears. Finally he reached out an took Ororo's hands in his. Looking deeply into her eyes he spoke again before she could say anything. "I didn't think I would ever discover anything like you after I left the Church." "I had thought I would find Waverly and then live out the rest of my life trying to make amends for killing another of God's children." "The love I feel for you, Ororo, is all-encompassing." "It's something I never expected, would never have dared to dream of." "It's because I love you so much, that I am telling you that you deserve more than I am." Kurt's voice broke slightly. "I can give you nothing but myself, and I fear that I am broken beyond repair."
Ororo stepped forward, her face showing nothing but love and understanding. "You are all I want Kurt." Ororo whispered. "And I am not letting you go." She turned and pressed her lips desperately against his, needing the reassurance of his touch. From the moment she had seen him approach Michael Waverly he had seemed half gone from her, and now she needed to know that he was back. He couldn't leave her again, she couldn't bear it.
"Marry me, Ororo," Kurt whispered into her hair. "Let me love you as your husband." "I can't live without you anymore."
Ororo could barely register the sensations she was feeling. Her mind was still dazed with the heart-stopping, love filled kiss and now her senses were further overloaded by his disconcerting words. She was trapped in a whirlwind of emotional upheaval that almost drove her to distraction; but if there was one thing Storm was good at, it was dealing with whirlwinds. She pushed away everything as she contemplated Kurt's question. Her eyes clouded into white and the rain was lit by a sudden crash of lightning. "Yes, Kurt," she replied softly. "I'll marry you."