My Heart My Home - by Darlin
A/N - Thank you so much for the reviews Digital Tempest, Isis Aurora Tomoe, Issi, Nienna of Sorrow, TheWolf, Verena Gruen!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter Fourteen - Don't Cry
How she got to the foot of the stairs Ororo had no idea. She could hear someone calling her name but the voice sounded so far away almost like the last dying sound of an echo, as if she were imagining it. And perhaps she was imagining it she thought. Everything felt strange and wrong. Her legs barely held her weight; her hands were shaking so badly that she clutched at the banister to try to stop the shaking. Her mouth was desperately dry and her head ached even worse than it had earlier. She felt ill to the point of nausea.
Something was tugging at her arm now but why she didn't know. And there was that voice again but this time she could hear it loud and urgent right upon her. Jean. Not now. What could she possibly want? To gloat? She groaned inwardly and suddenly the mansion grew dark as the light from outside faded, the sky filing with dark angry clouds. Jean shuddered at the sound of thunder roared as if giving her a warning.
"Ororo, please . . ." Jean pleaded as she stepped in front of her.
"Please?" Ororo looked at her, not comprehending.
"Oh, Ororo," Jean cried when she caught a glimpse of the pain Ororo was in.
She hadn't meant to read Ororo's mind but Ororo's emotions, along with Logan's, were so strong it was hard to block them out. Feeling the pain that Ororo and Logan both felt was unbelievably excruciating, but it made Jean realize how foolish and wrong she'd been.
~*~ I'm truly sorry. Please forgive me. ~*~
The sincerity and misery in Jean's projected thoughts touched Ororo's heart. Feeling Jean's deep regret through the mind link opened between them she wondered if Jean could feel her own regret. There were so many things she was sorry for. Allowing her emotions to get out of control and losing Jean as a friend, and now losing Logan forever were but a few. The ache inside her was almost unbearable. Now she understood.
~*~ I understand now. ~*~
Ororo's thoughts were almost a sob within Jean's mind that touched her heart profoundly. She felt deeply ashamed of herself. She no longer had the heart to continue nursing this grudge that was so unnatural between them. She hugged Ororo with all her strength hoping to comfort her, wishing she could take some of her pain away.
The mind-link allowed Ororo to see Jean's every thought - raw and completely open - the jealousy Jean had felt, the guilt, the love and hope that she still bore for Ororo and Logan too. It was almost overwhelming yet being inside Jean's mind gave Ororo a sense that she wasn't alone, that she was still loved and still had a friend to turn to. Inundated with Jean's thoughts all Ororo could do was to return the embrace accepting the comfort offered, accepting her friend with all her faults.
An understanding settled over the women now and Jean wondered why she hadn't done this sooner. Ororo pulled away after a few seconds, shaking her head at her friend, a look of regret etched on her face. She smiled weakly then turned to go. Knowing there was nothing she could do Jean let her go. She headed back to the Professor's office thinking surely there had been a mistake and they would be able to fix it. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't see Logan and nearly ran into him.
"Is she all right?" He asked.
"Oh, Logan what're you going to do?" Jean asked.
"I don't know. Where is she?"
"She's in a great deal of pain right now, Logan. Maybe you should give her some time."
Logan didn't need Jean to tell him this. He had already seen the drastic change in weather and even if he hadn't how could he not know she was hurting? He shoved past the red head and followed Ororo's scent up the stairs to her attic refuge. There was no answer when he knocked and he knocked long and hard.
"Ororo, let me in."
There was no reply.
"Ro, darlin' open the door!"
He gave a start when he heard an almost unearthly howl as the wind picked up, buffeting the house so strongly he felt the house shudder. She was out there. He knew without knowing how. She was out there in the elements. He wondered if she were riding the wild winds she'd told him about but he knew if she were there was no place for him now.
Shortly the wind that had seemed as if it were raging out of control soon lessened and finally expired as if breathing its last breath. Ororo came back to earth, falling slowly until her feet touched the ground then sunk onto her knees. Her hands, still shaking, began to dig in the earth pulling weeds forcibly out of the extensive vegetable garden she and the students maintained.
When Logan found her there were weeds strewn all around her and she was just getting up. He followed her, noiselessly, as she made her way to her flower garden some distance away. Her nails were caked with dirt, her face smudged, her clothes covered with grass stains. He noticed her hands were shaking steadily as she knelt and began to pick flowers tossing them aside as she must have tossed the weeds earlier.
"What're you doing, Roro?"
Ororo looked up, her stomach lurching miserably at the sight of Logan standing tall and handsome beside her.
"I thought fresh flowers would make - would be nice for - your - for her . . ."
Logan looked at her, puzzled.
"She must be an extraordinary woman if you chose her," Ororo said very quietly.
Logan's enhanced hearing heard the strain in her voice and he couldn't keep from wincing. It was Ororo who extraordinary he thought.
"Why would you think that?" he asked feebly, feeling stupid for not knowing what to say.
"You do have good taste," Ororo said simply, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.
He made no response. He didn't have a clue as to what he should say much less do. He couldn't make a wife go away even as much as he wanted to. He had no idea what type of woman this Mariko was and he didn't really care right now. He didn't care because he only wanted one woman and she was standing right there in front of him.
Ororo was everything he wanted. In his book Mariko couldn't stand up to her one iota. Maybe if she was just as caring, just as warm, and honest, and strong, and beautiful with skin the color of milk chocolate, smelling like the wide outdoors, fresh and overwhelmingly pure but he seriously doubted that Mariko would be anything like that. He couldn't imagine any one else being that great. No woman, in his book, could surpass Ororo.
Watching him, Ororo tried to push thoughts of everything she'd hoped for with him out of her head. Make it stop please; make the pain go away - make him go away, she prayed. But he didn't seem to want to go; instead he folded his long legs beneath him and joined her on the ground. Gently, he took the flower she was holding from her, placed it on the ground and pulled her to him. He needed to feel her one last time he told himself. Just for a minute.
I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry, she thought. It was so hard though. She had always found it relatively easy to keep her feelings in check but now she felt as if she were losing control again. The joy she'd felt only minutes ago when Logan had returned was now like a dream fast fading as if it had never happened. Her heart that had swollen with joy and life was now heavy and breaking, full of despair.
"She'll be beautiful and kind and patient and strong," Ororo said forlornly as she buried her head in his chest. Logan's wife would be everything she was not - there would be no way that she could compete with a woman he had loved enough to marry. It just wouldn't be possible.
"You think so?" Logan asked, feeling more than inadequate and hating himself for it.
"I think that's the type of woman who would be able to get you to the altar," she whispered, clinging to him.
Everything that I am not, she thought, remembering how she'd treated Jean and too, how she felt now. She'd give anything to make Mariko disappear even though she knew it was utterly wrong to feel that way. She forced herself to step back from Logan, no longer able to bear being in his arms.
"If she's anything like you, Ororo, I'll consider myself a lucky man," Logan said with undisguised admiration in his husky voice.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Be strong, be strong, she admonished herself. She gave a harsh laugh that sounded foolish to her ears but Logan perked up taking it as a good sign.
"I'm sure your . . . wife," she paused and drew in a long breath then began picking flowers again. "Your wife will be everything you'll want - beautiful and exotic of course - even a little mysterious like you and probably very feminine," she finished sounding more like her old self.
Logan sighed. Ororo could be describing herself.
"Ororo, I'm sorry . . ." he began but Ororo's hand touched his lips. She shook her head cutting him off.
"There's no need to be sorry, Logan. We didn't know. How could we?"
"Where do we go from here?" he asked, catching her hand in his.
Ororo pulled her hand away from his, her face full of sorrow.
"We can love each other always . . . as friends."
She put the flowers down and fell back onto the neatly trimmed grass as if she were suddenly exhausted. She wanted to kick off her shoes and run barefoot through the grass or remove her clothes so she could bask in the sun but instead she put her arms behind her head and gazed up at the serene sky. She needed peace, wanted to forget everything for just a few minutes.
After awhile Logan lay down beside her turning onto his side studying her. She looked at him in turn. She felt no better than she had when the Professor had first told them the news but at least she could see that Logan was fine. She wanted him to be happy even if it was with another woman. She loved him and could wish only the best for him.
"If I could change things I would," Logan said.
"I know. So would I but we can't."
"Ororo . . ."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Ororo said and closed her eyes.
He rolled onto his back and closed his own eyes.
"It's peaceful here," Logan said after awhile.
"It's rejuvenating," Ororo agreed.
He glanced at her, feeling stirrings in his heart that had no place there now.
"I really missed you," he said though he knew he had no right.
"I missed you too," Ororo said softly. She sat up, her hand covering his, squeezing gently. "I'm glad you're home."
"This is your home, Ro but it ain't mine - not now."
"This will always be your home just as we'll always be your family no matter what, Logan."
He sat up wanting to kiss her and fighting against the urge.
"You told me in Japan that home's where the heart is," he said.
"I think you'll see how true that is when your wife arrives."
He heard the catch in her voice and felt miserable. She herself felt nauseous. She stood up brushing dirt and grass off her. There was no peace for her there. He stood as well not wanting her to leave yet.
"Ro?"
"Yes?"
He took her hands in his squeezing them as she had his a moment before.
"Thanks," he said.
"Thanks for what?"
"For being a friend even with all this mess going on and for making this home."
Her smile was genuine but tinged with sadness and he saw the tears bright in her eyes. She leaned up and her lips brushed his stubbly cheek briefly even as she brushed a tear from her own cheek.
"You're welcome," she managed to get out.
"You're crying!"
"I'm not - I'm fine!"
"Don't cry, darlin' . . ."
The school bell rang out loudly over the grounds announcing that lunch was over and again Ororo was relieved to be saved by the bell.
"I'm going to be late; I have to go, Logan," she said with a weak smile and hurried off.
He ran his thick fingers through his hair letting her go, not knowing what else to do. After a bit he picked up the forgotten flowers and threw them in the compost bin.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The sun continued to shine for the remainder of the day. After classes finally ended and dinner was underway Ororo found she had no appetite. She still felt ill almost sick to her stomach. The shaking had stopped but if she dwelt too much on thoughts of Logan and Mariko it started up again. It scared her, having her body acting so out of control.
She had tried to find peace in the earth tending the garden and amongst her flowers earlier but that had been futile. Even lying in the grass watching the clouds drift in an attempt to reconnect with the serenity she usually maintained had failed. She had no choice but to stay in control - it was paramount that she did - only the agony that burned through her soul wouldn't stop. It was only with extreme exertion that she was keeping the heavens from opening and spilling forth her misery and wreaking havoc.
The smell of dinner wafting up through the mansion made her physically ill. However, vomiting only released the toxins that had accumulated throughout the day doing nothing to settle her nerves. Afterwards she took a long bath hoping to wash the stench away, wishing it were as easy to wash her troubles away. If only her brain would turn off, she thought bitterly as she showered off. Finally she dressed meticulously in a long white flowing dress, styled her hair casually upon her head then took to the air again.
It was while she was flying high above the mansion some length away that she spotted a long black limousine winding its way down Graymalkin Lane. Her heart tightened within her and she closed her eyes blotting out the unwanted sight. Though it was early yet it could only be Mariko.
Losing her train of thought her winds failed her and she began to plummet downward. She tired to compensate for the lost altitude then simply let herself fall. She welcomed the fall, embracing her fate but a sudden image of her own splattered body on the roadside being ran over by the limousine made her come to her senses. Of course she had not really considered it, she told herself as she laughed at her absurdity. Suicide was for weaklings and she was made of sterner stuff.
"Then why am I hurting so badly?" she asked the wind and allowed it to carry her homeward.
She made her way home lazily, keeping the car within sight though all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and pull the covers over her head to block out everything. She floated down to her attic skylight as the car pulled to a stop in front of the mansion. She saw a well-built Japanese man around medium height step out then stoop to help out the other passenger. Her stomach was knotting up so badly she felt as if she might hurl a 'welcome' right on top of Logan's wife. The thought, quite as morbid as when she'd envisioned her body splattered on the road, was quickly replaced with feelings of guilt and self-disgust.
The woman that the Japanese man helped out of the huge black car seemed tiny and pale in comparison. Ororo noted that she was indeed very exotic and she almost cursed herself for being so perceptive. The Japanese woman wore her hair piled high on her head in a type of pompadour that reminded Ororo of a geisha. She was lovely though Ororo had hoped against hope that she wouldn't be. She knew she was being immature and even mean spirited, none the less she felt such emptiness that she couldn't help the rogue thoughts.
It was so unlike her, more fitting for a scorned mistress or a rejected lover. She had no right to feel this way after all she had been nothing to Logan really. No promises had been made. She was probably nothing more than a passing fancy similar to Jean. Ororo immediately hated herself for thinking like that. She thought this must be what it was like for Jean. She now understood the pettiness and unreasonableness and the need to twist the truth to her liking. Still, she couldn't stop the rush of hate for this woman so intensely was the pain that she felt upon seeing her. She could feel her limbs twitching involuntarily again and balled her fist so that her nails dug into her palms hard enough to hurt.
A good man like Logan deserved better than a woman that could think such perverse thoughts - someone more like himself whom he could respect. Not someone who was bitter and full of anger and pain wanting to destroy a person just for being alive. She barely noticed that the sky, so tranquil and beautiful only a moment ago, had now become overcast. It was with great effort that Ororo mastered the horrible, whirling emotions within her and only then did she glide out to meet the new arrivals even as a spattering of rain burst forth.
A/N - Thank you so much for the reviews Digital Tempest, Isis Aurora Tomoe, Issi, Nienna of Sorrow, TheWolf, Verena Gruen!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chapter Fourteen - Don't Cry
How she got to the foot of the stairs Ororo had no idea. She could hear someone calling her name but the voice sounded so far away almost like the last dying sound of an echo, as if she were imagining it. And perhaps she was imagining it she thought. Everything felt strange and wrong. Her legs barely held her weight; her hands were shaking so badly that she clutched at the banister to try to stop the shaking. Her mouth was desperately dry and her head ached even worse than it had earlier. She felt ill to the point of nausea.
Something was tugging at her arm now but why she didn't know. And there was that voice again but this time she could hear it loud and urgent right upon her. Jean. Not now. What could she possibly want? To gloat? She groaned inwardly and suddenly the mansion grew dark as the light from outside faded, the sky filing with dark angry clouds. Jean shuddered at the sound of thunder roared as if giving her a warning.
"Ororo, please . . ." Jean pleaded as she stepped in front of her.
"Please?" Ororo looked at her, not comprehending.
"Oh, Ororo," Jean cried when she caught a glimpse of the pain Ororo was in.
She hadn't meant to read Ororo's mind but Ororo's emotions, along with Logan's, were so strong it was hard to block them out. Feeling the pain that Ororo and Logan both felt was unbelievably excruciating, but it made Jean realize how foolish and wrong she'd been.
~*~ I'm truly sorry. Please forgive me. ~*~
The sincerity and misery in Jean's projected thoughts touched Ororo's heart. Feeling Jean's deep regret through the mind link opened between them she wondered if Jean could feel her own regret. There were so many things she was sorry for. Allowing her emotions to get out of control and losing Jean as a friend, and now losing Logan forever were but a few. The ache inside her was almost unbearable. Now she understood.
~*~ I understand now. ~*~
Ororo's thoughts were almost a sob within Jean's mind that touched her heart profoundly. She felt deeply ashamed of herself. She no longer had the heart to continue nursing this grudge that was so unnatural between them. She hugged Ororo with all her strength hoping to comfort her, wishing she could take some of her pain away.
The mind-link allowed Ororo to see Jean's every thought - raw and completely open - the jealousy Jean had felt, the guilt, the love and hope that she still bore for Ororo and Logan too. It was almost overwhelming yet being inside Jean's mind gave Ororo a sense that she wasn't alone, that she was still loved and still had a friend to turn to. Inundated with Jean's thoughts all Ororo could do was to return the embrace accepting the comfort offered, accepting her friend with all her faults.
An understanding settled over the women now and Jean wondered why she hadn't done this sooner. Ororo pulled away after a few seconds, shaking her head at her friend, a look of regret etched on her face. She smiled weakly then turned to go. Knowing there was nothing she could do Jean let her go. She headed back to the Professor's office thinking surely there had been a mistake and they would be able to fix it. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't see Logan and nearly ran into him.
"Is she all right?" He asked.
"Oh, Logan what're you going to do?" Jean asked.
"I don't know. Where is she?"
"She's in a great deal of pain right now, Logan. Maybe you should give her some time."
Logan didn't need Jean to tell him this. He had already seen the drastic change in weather and even if he hadn't how could he not know she was hurting? He shoved past the red head and followed Ororo's scent up the stairs to her attic refuge. There was no answer when he knocked and he knocked long and hard.
"Ororo, let me in."
There was no reply.
"Ro, darlin' open the door!"
He gave a start when he heard an almost unearthly howl as the wind picked up, buffeting the house so strongly he felt the house shudder. She was out there. He knew without knowing how. She was out there in the elements. He wondered if she were riding the wild winds she'd told him about but he knew if she were there was no place for him now.
Shortly the wind that had seemed as if it were raging out of control soon lessened and finally expired as if breathing its last breath. Ororo came back to earth, falling slowly until her feet touched the ground then sunk onto her knees. Her hands, still shaking, began to dig in the earth pulling weeds forcibly out of the extensive vegetable garden she and the students maintained.
When Logan found her there were weeds strewn all around her and she was just getting up. He followed her, noiselessly, as she made her way to her flower garden some distance away. Her nails were caked with dirt, her face smudged, her clothes covered with grass stains. He noticed her hands were shaking steadily as she knelt and began to pick flowers tossing them aside as she must have tossed the weeds earlier.
"What're you doing, Roro?"
Ororo looked up, her stomach lurching miserably at the sight of Logan standing tall and handsome beside her.
"I thought fresh flowers would make - would be nice for - your - for her . . ."
Logan looked at her, puzzled.
"She must be an extraordinary woman if you chose her," Ororo said very quietly.
Logan's enhanced hearing heard the strain in her voice and he couldn't keep from wincing. It was Ororo who extraordinary he thought.
"Why would you think that?" he asked feebly, feeling stupid for not knowing what to say.
"You do have good taste," Ororo said simply, a hint of a smile playing at her lips.
He made no response. He didn't have a clue as to what he should say much less do. He couldn't make a wife go away even as much as he wanted to. He had no idea what type of woman this Mariko was and he didn't really care right now. He didn't care because he only wanted one woman and she was standing right there in front of him.
Ororo was everything he wanted. In his book Mariko couldn't stand up to her one iota. Maybe if she was just as caring, just as warm, and honest, and strong, and beautiful with skin the color of milk chocolate, smelling like the wide outdoors, fresh and overwhelmingly pure but he seriously doubted that Mariko would be anything like that. He couldn't imagine any one else being that great. No woman, in his book, could surpass Ororo.
Watching him, Ororo tried to push thoughts of everything she'd hoped for with him out of her head. Make it stop please; make the pain go away - make him go away, she prayed. But he didn't seem to want to go; instead he folded his long legs beneath him and joined her on the ground. Gently, he took the flower she was holding from her, placed it on the ground and pulled her to him. He needed to feel her one last time he told himself. Just for a minute.
I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry, she thought. It was so hard though. She had always found it relatively easy to keep her feelings in check but now she felt as if she were losing control again. The joy she'd felt only minutes ago when Logan had returned was now like a dream fast fading as if it had never happened. Her heart that had swollen with joy and life was now heavy and breaking, full of despair.
"She'll be beautiful and kind and patient and strong," Ororo said forlornly as she buried her head in his chest. Logan's wife would be everything she was not - there would be no way that she could compete with a woman he had loved enough to marry. It just wouldn't be possible.
"You think so?" Logan asked, feeling more than inadequate and hating himself for it.
"I think that's the type of woman who would be able to get you to the altar," she whispered, clinging to him.
Everything that I am not, she thought, remembering how she'd treated Jean and too, how she felt now. She'd give anything to make Mariko disappear even though she knew it was utterly wrong to feel that way. She forced herself to step back from Logan, no longer able to bear being in his arms.
"If she's anything like you, Ororo, I'll consider myself a lucky man," Logan said with undisguised admiration in his husky voice.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Be strong, be strong, she admonished herself. She gave a harsh laugh that sounded foolish to her ears but Logan perked up taking it as a good sign.
"I'm sure your . . . wife," she paused and drew in a long breath then began picking flowers again. "Your wife will be everything you'll want - beautiful and exotic of course - even a little mysterious like you and probably very feminine," she finished sounding more like her old self.
Logan sighed. Ororo could be describing herself.
"Ororo, I'm sorry . . ." he began but Ororo's hand touched his lips. She shook her head cutting him off.
"There's no need to be sorry, Logan. We didn't know. How could we?"
"Where do we go from here?" he asked, catching her hand in his.
Ororo pulled her hand away from his, her face full of sorrow.
"We can love each other always . . . as friends."
She put the flowers down and fell back onto the neatly trimmed grass as if she were suddenly exhausted. She wanted to kick off her shoes and run barefoot through the grass or remove her clothes so she could bask in the sun but instead she put her arms behind her head and gazed up at the serene sky. She needed peace, wanted to forget everything for just a few minutes.
After awhile Logan lay down beside her turning onto his side studying her. She looked at him in turn. She felt no better than she had when the Professor had first told them the news but at least she could see that Logan was fine. She wanted him to be happy even if it was with another woman. She loved him and could wish only the best for him.
"If I could change things I would," Logan said.
"I know. So would I but we can't."
"Ororo . . ."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Ororo said and closed her eyes.
He rolled onto his back and closed his own eyes.
"It's peaceful here," Logan said after awhile.
"It's rejuvenating," Ororo agreed.
He glanced at her, feeling stirrings in his heart that had no place there now.
"I really missed you," he said though he knew he had no right.
"I missed you too," Ororo said softly. She sat up, her hand covering his, squeezing gently. "I'm glad you're home."
"This is your home, Ro but it ain't mine - not now."
"This will always be your home just as we'll always be your family no matter what, Logan."
He sat up wanting to kiss her and fighting against the urge.
"You told me in Japan that home's where the heart is," he said.
"I think you'll see how true that is when your wife arrives."
He heard the catch in her voice and felt miserable. She herself felt nauseous. She stood up brushing dirt and grass off her. There was no peace for her there. He stood as well not wanting her to leave yet.
"Ro?"
"Yes?"
He took her hands in his squeezing them as she had his a moment before.
"Thanks," he said.
"Thanks for what?"
"For being a friend even with all this mess going on and for making this home."
Her smile was genuine but tinged with sadness and he saw the tears bright in her eyes. She leaned up and her lips brushed his stubbly cheek briefly even as she brushed a tear from her own cheek.
"You're welcome," she managed to get out.
"You're crying!"
"I'm not - I'm fine!"
"Don't cry, darlin' . . ."
The school bell rang out loudly over the grounds announcing that lunch was over and again Ororo was relieved to be saved by the bell.
"I'm going to be late; I have to go, Logan," she said with a weak smile and hurried off.
He ran his thick fingers through his hair letting her go, not knowing what else to do. After a bit he picked up the forgotten flowers and threw them in the compost bin.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The sun continued to shine for the remainder of the day. After classes finally ended and dinner was underway Ororo found she had no appetite. She still felt ill almost sick to her stomach. The shaking had stopped but if she dwelt too much on thoughts of Logan and Mariko it started up again. It scared her, having her body acting so out of control.
She had tried to find peace in the earth tending the garden and amongst her flowers earlier but that had been futile. Even lying in the grass watching the clouds drift in an attempt to reconnect with the serenity she usually maintained had failed. She had no choice but to stay in control - it was paramount that she did - only the agony that burned through her soul wouldn't stop. It was only with extreme exertion that she was keeping the heavens from opening and spilling forth her misery and wreaking havoc.
The smell of dinner wafting up through the mansion made her physically ill. However, vomiting only released the toxins that had accumulated throughout the day doing nothing to settle her nerves. Afterwards she took a long bath hoping to wash the stench away, wishing it were as easy to wash her troubles away. If only her brain would turn off, she thought bitterly as she showered off. Finally she dressed meticulously in a long white flowing dress, styled her hair casually upon her head then took to the air again.
It was while she was flying high above the mansion some length away that she spotted a long black limousine winding its way down Graymalkin Lane. Her heart tightened within her and she closed her eyes blotting out the unwanted sight. Though it was early yet it could only be Mariko.
Losing her train of thought her winds failed her and she began to plummet downward. She tired to compensate for the lost altitude then simply let herself fall. She welcomed the fall, embracing her fate but a sudden image of her own splattered body on the roadside being ran over by the limousine made her come to her senses. Of course she had not really considered it, she told herself as she laughed at her absurdity. Suicide was for weaklings and she was made of sterner stuff.
"Then why am I hurting so badly?" she asked the wind and allowed it to carry her homeward.
She made her way home lazily, keeping the car within sight though all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and pull the covers over her head to block out everything. She floated down to her attic skylight as the car pulled to a stop in front of the mansion. She saw a well-built Japanese man around medium height step out then stoop to help out the other passenger. Her stomach was knotting up so badly she felt as if she might hurl a 'welcome' right on top of Logan's wife. The thought, quite as morbid as when she'd envisioned her body splattered on the road, was quickly replaced with feelings of guilt and self-disgust.
The woman that the Japanese man helped out of the huge black car seemed tiny and pale in comparison. Ororo noted that she was indeed very exotic and she almost cursed herself for being so perceptive. The Japanese woman wore her hair piled high on her head in a type of pompadour that reminded Ororo of a geisha. She was lovely though Ororo had hoped against hope that she wouldn't be. She knew she was being immature and even mean spirited, none the less she felt such emptiness that she couldn't help the rogue thoughts.
It was so unlike her, more fitting for a scorned mistress or a rejected lover. She had no right to feel this way after all she had been nothing to Logan really. No promises had been made. She was probably nothing more than a passing fancy similar to Jean. Ororo immediately hated herself for thinking like that. She thought this must be what it was like for Jean. She now understood the pettiness and unreasonableness and the need to twist the truth to her liking. Still, she couldn't stop the rush of hate for this woman so intensely was the pain that she felt upon seeing her. She could feel her limbs twitching involuntarily again and balled her fist so that her nails dug into her palms hard enough to hurt.
A good man like Logan deserved better than a woman that could think such perverse thoughts - someone more like himself whom he could respect. Not someone who was bitter and full of anger and pain wanting to destroy a person just for being alive. She barely noticed that the sky, so tranquil and beautiful only a moment ago, had now become overcast. It was with great effort that Ororo mastered the horrible, whirling emotions within her and only then did she glide out to meet the new arrivals even as a spattering of rain burst forth.
