My Heart My Home - by Darlin
A/N - Thanks to blackpanther14, Bluemist Heatherfield, Digital
Tempest, Isisi Aurora Tomoe, Raeyna,
Redhead2, TigerStorm, skyz,
TheWolf, Verena Gruen, and Voli for giving me
encouragement and the will to get another chapter up a little quicker.
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Chapter Sixteen - Mistress of the Storm
Sleep was near impossible that night for the Wind-Rider and the Wolverine. The
former tossed and turned unable to get comfortable and the latter tossed and
turned drifting in and out of sleep waging war with his ghosts. At last Ororo
rose and took to the skies.
The crisp night air felt refreshing and calming as she soared ever higher.
Miles above the mansion and the sleeping town of Westchester she spread her arms
and summoned the winds to her. They howled their reply as strong gusts began to
swirl around her like an old friend welcoming her back. Lifting her face up to
the heavens she smiled. It was a smile both frightening and majestic. She gave
herself up to the elements calling hail to aid her in her release. Lightning
too ripped through the sky resounding through the darkness in a terrifying
crescendo of light and sound.
No rain fell as the winds continued to pummel her. With great concentration she
caused the pressure to drop substantially, her blue eyes white with power. And
as a storm raged within her soul, so too did a storm rage around her, growing
wilder and wilder minute by minute. Her manipulations brought forth a full
scale tornado that would have been impossible to chart or rate such was the
intensity of the winds at her command.
Showing remarkable concentration and control over her powers she kept the gale
isolated careful not to endanger those below. None the less through the fury of
the tempest so high above, one person sensed the disturbance; the unnatural
change in the weather, even as he slept. Logan's eyes shot open as
he woke suddenly. Sniffing the air he could smell the drastic change in the
pressure and ozone. His claws escaped their casings within his forearms as he
leapt from his bed, his thoughts on one person.
"Ro!" His voice was guttural, and desperate.
Opening his window he saw nothing but a light hail falling. He could tell it
was tapering off but an unnaturally cold wind was blowing far above. Looking
up, his sharp eyes alone were able to detect the contained vortex of almost
unimaginable magnitude. The trees that had been full of rust and maroon leaves
were now stripped appearing like dancing skeletons. He knew only one person
could cause such extremes in the weather. He felt an overpowering need to go to
her and hold her, to share her burden, and help her battle the storm.
Somehow he knew she had called the tornado force winds to her in an attempt to
cleanse her soul much as he would run wild in the Canadian wilderness in a
berserker rage. And with that thought he remembered something she had said long
ago - you and I are a lot alike. He hadn't, couldn't believe her then but
remembering her serene statement, so sure of the truth, he knew now that she
had been right.
Needing to go to her he stepped into a pair of Xavier issued sweatpants and
headed outside determined to wait her out. Because his peculiarly keen eyesight
could detect many sights that others could not he was able to discern the rise
and fall of the upheaval above. It was a great display of true power that few
could ever know. How she maintained control so completely while not letting the
twister descend crashing into the quiet town was beyond his comprehension. Then
he saw her like a flash of lightning in sharp relief exposed for all to see.
The winds had died, their dirge had ceased, and only
Ororo remained. She slowly drifted downward. Her body was slumped as if she had
been defeated by her own powers. He was surprised to see she was covered in
ice, her eyes still white as snow, and completely naked. Her hair was wild and
disheveled but to him she was unbelievably beautiful. There was no shaking or
tremors from either anxiety or the coldness in the air. He felt awe welling
within him, the flesh on his arms tingling as goose bumps played over him.
With mouth open in wonderment he watched the Wind-Rider, Mistress of the Storm,
land gently on the ground. She stood tall and regal in the moonlight and all he
could do was stare, dumbstruck. But then she bent over, too weak to stand. He
raced out onto the lawn reaching her as swiftly as he could, pulling her close
to his bare chest. She groaned, startled to feel herself being encompassed in
muscular arms. His heart ached to hear the moan that escaped her lips and he
cradled her more tenderly than anyone could have imagined.
Focusing on her rescuer she could only watch him curiously, too exhausted to
move as the whites of her eyes gave way to their natural clear blueness. She
let him hold her and carry her back into the mansion. She went uncomplaining
when he took her into his room and laid her gently down upon his bed. She
watched him rummage through his closet then return with a long warm flannel
shirt that he carefully slid her arms into one at a time. He was nothing but
patient as he fumbled with the buttons then turned to each long sleeve and
began to roll them up so her hands were free.
Next he retrieved an old musty gray army blanket that he covered her in
tenderly. Then he pulled her to him holding her almost too tightly. It was only
then that she was able to breathe easy again, her strength slowly returning.
She could feel his strong heart beating against her chest; smell the strong
distinctive odors that were Logan - natural soap, cigars, and the rich smell of
leather all combined with his own unique slightly pungent and musky scent. He
smelled good, felt good.
Her hands settled onto his chest as he stroked her hair. The ice that had so
thickly covered her had slowly melted as Logan had tended to her
though it still clung to her long thick hair. Drops began to trickle onto the
smelly wool blanket. She actually laughed. Just the feel of the itchy material
against her warm skin made her feel good, even the smell was comforting. That Logan was trying to help
her, trying to warm her up made her heart swell within her. It didn't matter
that she was immune to the elements; all that mattered was that he cared.
"What's so flamin' funny?" he asked,
confused.
"You. Me. Us. Life.
It's good to be alive. Thank you."
He grinned back at her, glad she was content.
"Ridin' your wild winds, eh?"
"Sometimes it is absolutely necessary if one's to remain sane," she
murmured sleepily.
"Shoulda taken me with you," he said.
"Shoulda, woulda. Life
is full of regrets. Don't let this opportunity slip away."
He could tell she was tired.
"Perhaps love will come in time," Ororo whispered so softly he was
almost uncertain he'd heard her.
With a deep sigh she let the damp blanket fall from her shoulders. She wiggled
away from him and forced herself to stand up. It was time to go.
"She's a beautiful woman who came all this way to find you. She has to
love you very much, Logan. Give her time."
Her hand touched his briefly but she didn't let it linger. Her eyes were full
of emotions but the smile she bore was once again the serene smile he was so
used to.
"She should be here with you instead of me," she said.
"Hah! In this sailor's bunk of mine?" he snorted.
Ororo would have given anything to join him in his sailor's bunk if only for a
few minutes longer.
"She's a stranger to me," Logan said, determinedly.
"A lovely stranger who will grow on you."
"All I want from her is answers, when she gives them to me that's it. After that I want a divorce."
"You hardly know what those answers will mean to you Logan."
He stood, reaching for her but she stepped away from him.
I better go," she said.
"We need to talk, Ro - wait!"
But she didn't. She hurried out, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she
couldn't think. She didn't notice the door across the hall close quietly. She
closed her eyes and hung her head low. She only wanted him to be happy but it
hurt so much to stand back to give him the opportunity to find it. She leaned
against the door pulling the large flannel shirt closer to her breathing in the
faint smell of Logan on it. Only for a
second did she let the heaviness of old wash over her. Looking up she smiled
remembering why she could let him go. She loved him. It was that simple.
She started to move away when she noticed the door across from Logan's was slightly ajar
and there watching her were a pair of brown almond shaped eyes. The door
snapped shut but Ororo quickly lunged for it, her hand turning the knob even as
Mariko attempted to lock it. Ororo easily forced the door open and let herself
in. Mariko stood looking aghast at the intruder.
"I don't mean to intrude but I didn't want you to get the wrong
idea," Ororo said.
Mariko looked at Ororo with expressionless eyes waiting for the other woman to
explain herself.
"Logan and I are good friends, like family, and he was only trying to help
me. Please tell me you can help him, Mariko! I know you have to love him very
much or you wouldn't be here but he needs more than that right now. He needs
space and time to get to know you. Can you give him that?" Ororo finally
stopped.
"Why do you tell me this?"
"Because his life has been difficult at best and because
he's a good man with a good heart. He deserves nothing but the best. .He
may seem rough on the outside but . . . well; I suppose you know all this
already."
"Did you sleep with him?" Mariko asked, her gaze never wavering as
she studied Ororo.
The words caught Ororo by surprise which Mariko duly noted.
"No! I - he was only trying to help me - my powers left me somewhat . . .
drained. I should have been more careful but sometimes I need to be outside in
the elements and . . . he was just helping me nothing else."
The frown on Mariko's small face clearly told Ororo that she didn't understand.
Ororo wondered how much Mariko had seen and thought that it certainly would
have been an eye full easily mistaken for a late night tryst. With that thought
a smile came to her and she let it flow full stream.
"Logan has nightmares and
sometimes I've been able to help him. Tonight I needed help. It was nothing
more," Ororo assured her.
The earnest tone in Ororo's voice made Mariko breathe
easier and she graced Ororo with a small smile.
"Forgive me. I did not know what to think when I saw you dressed so and
coming out of my husband's room so late."
"No forgiveness is needed," Ororo said quietly as she turned to
leave.
"I think we will be good friends Ororo-Chan. Goodnight," Mariko said
warmly.
"Goodnight," Ororo replied before she shut the door behind her.
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Morning came too early for Ororo. Though she was used to rising long before the
others today wasn't one of those days. She longed to go back to sleep as
memories of last night seemed to flood her brain. Her first thoughts were of Logan just as he was the
last thought she'd had before sleep overtook her last night. Shaking her head and
stretching she pushed all thoughts of him aside. She took a quick shower,
combed her tangled hair, threw on a simple dress and headed down for breakfast.
The staff dining room was full, much to her chagrin, but she smiled politely
and greeted her friends as pleasantly as she could. Kurt smiled with his ever
eager smile. Dr. Henry McCoy, the new doctor that the Professor had hired after
they had lost Jean was back after summer vacation and he waved between
forkfuls. The children affectionately called him 'Beast' and it had stuck. The
staff called him Hank. Jean and Scott were sitting in companionable silence
over coffee though they nodded. The Professor looked up from the New York Times
and gave her an odd look. The only thing she noticed was that everyone was
there save Logan.
"Good morning, Ororo. How're you feeling today?" Charles asked as he
folded his paper and set it aside.
"I'm fine, thank you and you?" Ororo asked as she turned on the
faucet and ran water into a tea kettle.
"Good," Charles murmured.
"Has anyone inquired of the whereabouts of our honored guest, the lovely
Lady Mariko?" Hank asked no one in particular.
"She's still in bed," Jean responded. "Shiro
took a breakfast tray up to her a few minutes ago."
No one said anything but the windows shook and rattled as a strong wind blew
outside. Charles looked at Ororo but refrained from voicing his thoughts as she
sat down beside Kurt.
"Guten Morgen. Muffin?" Kurt said while holding out a basket full of
freshly baked muffins.
"I couldn't sleep," Jean responded when Ororo looked at her
questionably knowing that Jean was the baker in the group.
"Neither could I," Ororo said as she bit into a chocolate muffin.
"Thank you, Kurt."
"Bitte," Kurt smiled.
Ororo fought to swallow the small piece she'd bitten off. Looking around at her
friends she took another bite but immediately wished she hadn't. She just
couldn't eat. It was delicious and yet the taste overwhelmed her. She reached
for a napkin and discreetly deposited the remains in it. At the sound of the
kettle whistling she gratefully eased away from the table, tossed the napkin in
the trash and proceeded to make a cup of tea. The process was made easy when
she realized she wouldn't be able to stomach the tea any more than she could
the muffin. She left the kettle, cup and tea makings on the counter eying the
door longingly. Since no one was paying much attention to her she thought
escape would be easy, however just as she made it to the door Charles spoke up.
"Ororo, can we talk?" he asked as he maneuvered his wheelchair away
from the table and followed Ororo out.
As they made their way down the hallway neither chose to speak first. Finally
when Charles stopped in front of a large set of French doors overlooking the
grounds he turned to Ororo, studying her curiously.
"Have you looked outside lately?" he asked her.
"No, why?" Ororo asked then gasped when she
did.
Framed by the French doors like a picture painted by a master artist was a
winter wonderland, the grounds covered in several feet of white pristine snow.
"Oh, dear," Ororo groaned at the lovely sight before her.
"Oh dear indeed," Charles chuckled. "It was supposed to be a
fine Indian summer day with the temperature in the 60's."
Speechless, Ororo covered her mouth in dismay.
"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Charles asked.
"No," she said with a firm shake of her head.
"Are you sure you're well, Ororo?"
"As well as I can possibly expect for the moment."
"Well then what do you think? Should we dismiss classes for today and give
the children a snow day? That is if the snow will last."
The twinkle in Charles eyes made Ororo smile and she nodded her agreement. He
laid a comforting hand on her arm and squeezed lightly.
"If you ever need someone to talk to, Ororo I'm always here for you,"
he said.
Tears welled in her eyes for a second but she smiled and blinked them away, her
hand covering his.
"Thank you, Charles. Your offer means the world to me."
"It's a standing offer and don't you forget it," he said warmly. His
other hand covered hers giving it an encouraging pat before rolling away
leaving Ororo behind staring out through the frosty panes.
Shortly the PA system screeched as the microphone was adjusted then the
commanding yet fatherly voice of the Professor was heard announcing that he had
an assignment for the children and staff today - "You will all be expected
to enjoy yourselves to the utmost ability on this the one and only snow day
that will be allowed here at the Institute. There will be no school today. And
yes you heard me correctly."
Logan could hear the students buoyant cheering all
throughout the mansion even in his bedroom. He had slept later than usual and
had no desire to get up. It was as if the adamantium
metal in his body was weighing him down but he knew it was the thought of
facing his wife. Never the less he had it to do so he dragged himself to the
shower, dressed, and headed downstairs. He wasn't surprised to see everyone but
Ororo still chatting at the table.
"Guten Morgen, Logan.
Did you sleep vell?" Kurt greeted his friend.
"Like a rock," Logan grunted.
"Good morning," Jean said with a smile.
"What's good about it?" he grunted.
"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed - again?" Scott asked with a
boyish grin.
Logan didn't even look at Scott. He hoisted himself
up onto the side board beside the coffee maker and poured a cup of hot black
coffee. Taking a gulp of the hot liquid he looked up to see four pairs of eyes
trained on him.
"Anyone seen Ororo?" he asked casually.
"Shouldn't you be asking where your wife's at?" Scott asked, baffled.
Logan glared at Scott not in the mood to play with
the Boy Scout so early.
"I think she may be ill," Jean informed him. "She came down to
eat and nearly threw it back up."
Logan cursed under his breath.
"Your - um, Mariko's having breakfast in bed," Jean said.
"What?" Logan looked at Jean as if
he hadn't heard her right.
Jean just shrugged and looked down at her empty plate.
"I vill check on Ororo if you like," Kurt
offered.
"That won't be necessary, Kurt," Hank said as he wiped his blue fur
clean of crumbs - and there were many. "I have dined quite sufficiently
and shall be delighted to ensure that everyone's favorite history teacher is
feeling up to par."
Logan glared even harder at the doctor than he had
at Scott. He had never taken the time to get to know Hank well and to be honest
he wasn't impressed with the man. For one thing he couldn't understand half the
words he used. And now he was trying to check on his girl. It didn't matter
that Ororo couldn't really be considered his girl and he knew he had no right
to think of her as his but he didn't care. He didn't care that he had a wife
upstairs either. The growl that he'd been fighting to hold back suddenly found
its way out of his throat and it was loud enough that four pairs of perplexed
eyes followed him as he stalked out of the room.
"What's wrong with him?" Scott asked.
"It's complicated," Jean replied with a shake of her head. "I
guess we should get busy. If the kids are going to have a holiday it's going to
be a long day."
"Is it true?" Kitty asked as she came careening into the dinning room
through a wall. "No school, really? And where'd
all this snow come from?"
"No running in the house," Scott reprimanded her.
"Um, sorry Mr. Summers but I wanted to let Kurt - I mean, Mr. Wagner has a
phone call." Kitty held out a cordless phone looking appropriately
repentant though she was wondering how running through walls could possibly
hurt anything.
"I do?"
"Um hm, and it's a woman," Kitty giggled.
"It is?" Kurt's eyes grew wide with surprise. He took the phone and
disappeared in a puff of bluish black smoke.
Kitty coughed and scrunched up her nose as a putrid odor filled the room.
"Ew, gross! A warning
would have been nice!" Kitty cried before she took a deep breath preparing
to leave the same way she'd come.
"Hey, no running!" Scott shouted but Kitty
had already raced through the wall again.
The front gate intercom let out a harsh buzzing sound as it was activated.
Everyone looked up then at each other.
"Anyone expecting company?" Scott asked.
"Odd," he said when everyone shook their heads no. "Deliveries
don't usually come this early. Hank can you check the monitor, see who it
is?"
Hank gave a salute and got up, his large frame suddenly making the room seem
smaller. The schools superior security system was more than state of the art.
It was a mix of alien technology that they had accumulated throughout their
travels in space while saving the world as they often did. Hank quickly pulled
up a picture of a chauffeur standing beside a Rolls Royce. The man was tapping
his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to acknowledge him.
"Who the heck is that?" Scott asked.
"He looks . . . Japanese," Hank said thoughtfully.
"One of Mariko's men maybe?" Jean asked.
"Only one way to find out," Scott said. "Hank, ask him who he is, what he wants, and tell him someone will
be out in a minute. Jean, see if Mariko's expecting anyone."
"Aye-aye," Jean saluted her beau, smiled and hurried to do his bidding.
"Could this day get any more interesting?" Scott mumbled to himself
as he left for the garage. "Crap!" he shouted when he saw the snow
piled high in front of the door just before it smothered him.
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Guten Morgen - Good morning
Bitte - You're welcome
