My Heart My Home - by Darlin
A/N – Happy Valentines all! I apologize for the lateness of this chapter although I have a genuine excuse! This chapter was too long so I broke it down into two chapters but lost part of it after that. I have never done that before but fortunately I was able to remember a lot of what I lost. There's a good side to this – I do have the epilogue finished. All I need to do now is tweak it and proof it which is time consuming but I think I'll have it up by Monday or Tuesday at the latest. I'm going to work on it tomorrow.
Thank you all for being so patient and putting up with me. Blackpanther2288, you really know how to compliment someone. No, I'm not a professional writer but I've always enjoyed writing. Chris-warren876, in a hurry? I don't know if this chapter will help but the next chapter's only a few days away. Digital Tempest, thank you and I'll be looking for your updates. Isis Aurora Tomoe, thank you; lilWolvie, thanks. Redhead2, you're welcome! Starlight Lover, thanks for reading again – just one more chapter. TigerStorm, thanks. TheWolf, yeah, they're both back so I can torture them; and Verena Gruen please don't haunt me or hate me for that! And last but not least, wOLF8, the Silver Samurai's fate is no longer in my hands – but you'll get a tiny glimpse in the next chapter I think;D.
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Chapter Twenty-five – The Consequences of Love
"I found them," the Professor said when he wheeled out of the large domed room that housed Cerebro.
"Ororo or Logan?" Scott asked.
"Ororo."
"Good, the Blackbird's ready just tell me where she is and I'll go get her!"
"Scott, it's not going to be that easy."
"Why not? What do you mean?"
"You have to know that things do not look good right now. I . . ." the Professor paused as he wondered how best to explain what he'd detected. "You must understand that it's difficult under the best of circumstances for me to read Logan's mind – what little I was able to pick up from him before he disappeared was something I've never encountered before and then I lost all contact with him."
"Wait – is he – did Ororo find him? Did he . . . ?" Scott faltered as he imagined the worse.
"Oh no! Please no!" Jean gasped at Scott's implication.
"Please! Scott, Jean calm down. I'm not entirely sure what's happened – Ororo's almost as difficult to read as Logan is but her strength of will is enormous. I believe she's with Logan but she's either unconscious or blocking my attempts to contact her. I sensed a great deal of energy while I searched and only when it faded was I able to locate her but where she is now I'm not at all certain.
"The energy signature that I found was definitely Ororo's but at a level I've never seen from her before. The amount of energy she must have been putting out was astonishing to say the least. I was able to track her until her power began to fade briefly and I thought I'd lost her but her power burst out again at her usual strength only to die completely shortly after." Charles paused obviously weary and then continued – "I can only presume that her energy is totally spent at this time."
Scott shook his head and said mournfully, "He's killed her."
"Scott, we can't jump to conclusions," the Professor said. "Ororo is a strong woman. We all know this. If she did find Logan I'm positive that Logan would do nothing to harm her. Let's just get out there and find them."
"Yes sir."
"But where is she?" Jean asked.
"I believe she's in a remote area north of the school. She's was moving with so much speed and with so much electrical interference that I couldn't pinpoint her exact location but from what I did pick up I think we should be able to find her."
"Can't we track her using our Doppler system then?" Scott asked.
"Oh, Scott, that's a wonderful idea! Since she left the weather's been back to normal here so it stands to reason that where ever she is now the storm would have gotten worse!"
"That is a possibility," Charles agreed.
"I'll get Hank on that immediately. He can work on the Blackbird. Jean you'll need to relieve him in the infirmary, and Professor, the healer's with Yukio now but I think he could be put to better use if he came with me."
"Agreed," Charles admitted then asked – "How is Yukio, Jean?"
"There's nothing more we can do for her," Jean said quietly as she studied the Professor's pensive face.
"I see," the Professor said with a sigh. "And Kurt? How is he?"
It took Jean a moment before she could bring herself to answer. "Not good."
There was nothing Charles could say. Guilt weighed heavily on his soul. Jean laid a hand on his shoulder while she and Scott shared a look of concern. Charles patted her hand and forced himself to smile.
"Will you check on Kitty for me, Jean? I'd like to know that she's all right after witnessing so much tragedy and . . . death. So much has happened. Sometimes I think we ask too much of her and forget how old she is."
"I've already talked to her, Professor and she was doing fine but I'll check in on her again. She's probably with Peter or Jubilee."
"Thank you, Jean. I'll send Hank and the healer to the Blackbird to meet you, Scott and I'll keep trying to locate Logan and Ororo – if you'll excuse me." Charles turned his chair around and made his way back into the Cerebro chamber.
"I'm worried about him," Jean confessed when the security doors shut behind the Professor.
"He'll be all right," Scott said with confidence and patted Jean on the arm.
Jean shook her head. Sometimes men just didn't understand emotions she thought but she refrained from speaking her mind.
"Look, the Professor did what he had to. If that had been you out there and he'd tried to keep me from going to you – well he would've had no choice but to do the same thing – let me go. That's just the way it is," Scott finished quietly.
"Oh, Scott!" Jean wrapped her arms around him and hugged him warmly.
"Okay, that's enough," Scott said after a few seconds as he pulled away from her. "We're wasting time, it's getting dark out there, we've got to find Ororo and Logan ASAP, remember?"
The look of guilt on Jean's face softened Scott's heart and he bent down and pecked her on her forehead and said, "I love you, sweetheart but we've got to get moving."
Jean nodded and she and Scott hurried off to do what they could to save their friends.
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The dilapidated barn was the nearest shelter that Logan could find. It wasn't much and it looked as if it had been abandoned years ago but he hoped he would be able to find something to cover Ororo with at least and maybe something to treat her wound with. He laid her on a meager pile of straw and started to scout around the place.
After going up into the loft he found an old dirty tarp but nothing else that would help. He hated the idea of covering her bloodied body with something so filthy. It just wasn't right to him but, regrettably, he had no other choice. Using his claws he cut two strips from the soiled material and fashioned a simple loincloth for himself then he stared at the remaining cloth and wondered how he was going to fashion a dress for her.
Had this occurred under different circumstances he might have laughed but now all he was concerned about was seeing that Ororo survived and nothing else mattered to him. Finally he opted to use the tarp as a blanket. He covered her with it tenderly, tucking the material around her body snuggly like a father tucking in his beloved child. Standing back he nodded his approval to himself but it was only a momentary feeling of accomplishment. Looking down at Ororo covered with the unclean cloth, lying on a pile of straw on the cold hard ground, made him feel physically ill.
He shook his head and ran a hand through his wild locks. This wasn't going to work. There was nothing there that could help her and covering her was probably useless even if she was in shock. It was easy to see she had a fever and he knew she needed to be kept cool to keep the fever down. Everything was a conflict now. Cover her or uncover her? Covering her was the only thing he could do that made him feel as if he were helping her in some way.
Never the less it was a useless gesture that only served to make him feel better. With Ororo being impervious to the deep cold that had settled in as night set in he didn't know how a fever would fare under those circumstances. Would her body adapt or would it hinder the fever? And how to handle the shock? More than anything he wished he had some of Hank's superior knowledge in science and healing.
As blood began to seep through the tarp that covered Ororo's chest Logan suddenly felt void of all hope, something he had never experienced before. True desperation set in and he felt like ripping the tarp off and shredding it into a million pieces. Instead he knelt beside Ororo and cradled her in his arms hugging her to him all the while wishing he could give her every last drop of his healing factor even if it meant that he would never be able to heal himself again.
"L-Logan?"
"Ro! You're okay!"
Her eyes were bright with fever, her face ashen and worn, but she managed to smile weakly. Ororo's indomitable spirit amazed him but it almost broke his heart. He knew, and he felt that she also knew, she wasn't going to make it and yet she still smiled as if all was right in the world.
"I think your wild ride was an understatement, darlin'," he said as lightly as he could though his voice was thick with emotion.
She started to laugh but a ragged cough came out instead and he pressed her closer to him as he patted her back hoping to alleviate her discomfort to some degree.
"I don't want to lose you, Ororo," he whispered.
"Hah! I'm made of sterner stuff," she said though her voice was very frail.
"You gave me a real run for my money."
"I told you – the time would come . . . when we would ride . . . the wild winds . . . together," she said, her voice getting weaker with each word but her smile never leaving her face.
Logan swallowed hard. "I coulda killed you," he said, his voice gruff and full of guilt.
"No. Never."
A thick lump formed in his throat and he didn't trust himself to speak. Through the long comfortable silence that followed he held her tight all the while listening to her shallow breathing and planning his next move. Finally he cleared his throat and spoke.
"You need to rest, darlin' but we've gotta get outta here as soon as possible. You need a doctor. We gotta get you home."
"I am home," Ororo whispered, her eyes large and brimming with unshed tears that she tried to wipe away.
Logan's hand covered hers quickly squeezing it almost too roughly. Then he reached out and touched her tired face lovingly. His eyes never left her face, devouring her as if he wanted to remember every inch of her always.
"I never thought . . ." his voice faltered but he made himself go on needing to make her understand – "You . . . you make me better – make me complete, Ro. I've never loved anyone like this before."
"Nor I," Ororo said with all the love that she felt for him displayed plainly on her face.
Logan looked at her through eyes that were uncharacteristically moist but he smiled and whispered with deep feeling, "I love you, darlin'."
A soft sigh answered him and Ororo's eyes closed slowly. Logan stifled a groan of despair. He wondered how he could have been stupid enough to have gotten them into the mess they were in and he cursed himself a thousand times over. He could make no excuses. He knew Ororo's death would be his fault and he didn't know if he'd ever be able to come back from that.
It didn't take an expert to see that the huge loss
of blood after exerting all of her energy combined with the serious state of
her injuries was simply too much for Ororo to handle. Logan had every reason to believe that she
wasn't going to last the night. He had carried her further than he should have and
he blamed himself for that but he also felt he'd had no other choice. He
couldn't have just left her out in the open naked and helpless and he couldn't have
kept carrying her through the desolate countryside searching for a town – for
help.
Now he was faced with only one choice – to leave her and seek out help
immediately. It was the only solution no matter how much he hated the thought
of deserting her. Only, he asked himself, what if she died while he was gone? What if he never got to see her alive again never to
see her clear blue eyes and her beautiful smile again?
If she died it would be his fault. No one could deny that for if it hadn't been
for him there never would have been a Mariko or a Keniuchio and Ororo wouldn't
have been put in harms way. He should have known better and stayed away from
Ororo. He should have just stuck to
causally flirting with women he was attracted to but whom he wanted nothing
else from. He'd never allowed himself anything more than that before not even
with Jean. Flirt, mess around, and move on. No ties. No weaknesses. Jean had been no more than that to him. She was unattached, not available – Scott's.
It had been easier then to feel nothing but lust
that could soon be sated or ignored. Love
had never even been an option. He'd always known that he couldn't afford to
love anyone. But the truth was that he'd never met anyone who'd even come close
to touching that part of him, that could set that spark ablaze. Not till he'd
met Ororo. But even then he shouldn't have let himself love her. Ororo was too
good for him. She deserved more than what he could offer her. She deserved a
man who knew who he was, where he'd been and where he was going. And she
definitely deserved a man who didn't have a secret hidden life of maybe
hundreds of years with a wife or even wives that he couldn't remember.
Ororo needed a man who could control himself and would never lose himself to a
crazed berserker fury. If he had only been able to control himself when he'd
seen Keniuchio touch her lifeless body Ororo wouldn't be in this predicament
now. But he hadn't been able to stop the bloodlust and the deep rush into feral
madness. Somehow Ororo had slipped past his defenses. She had become more important to him than
he'd realized.
He'd known that he cared for her and even knew that he loved her but when he'd
thought Ororo was dead the extent of his love had been clearly revealed to him.
The depth of his love had been nothing short of overwhelming. She was everything he was not – pure and fresh
and good. She was more than a part of him.
With her he felt whole and complete for the first time since his faulty
memory could remember. Without her – believing her dead – he'd felt nothing but
desolation overcome him. He'd felt that he would never know peace or happiness
again without Ororo and that loss was more horrific than anything he'd ever
encountered.
His feelings were more than physical and more than mental. It was something so
profound he could barely comprehend it. But he did know that without Ororo he
would be less of a man. Without Ororo he wouldn't be whole or sane again.
Without Ororo he would be lost just as he'd been before he'd loved her. He'd be nothing – a man with no past, a man
with no future, a man with few ties, and a man who didn't care if he lived or
died.
When he had thought Ororo was dead, had heard Keniuchio defile her with
careless words, and saw him touch her so carelessly Logan had given into the
deep despair and guilt that he'd felt and welcomed the darkness that was always
beckoning him but that he had denied for so long. There had been no other
recourse for him. Ororo had suffered because of him. She would never have come
for him, never have ridden her wild winds in her weakened condition, never have
been put in that situation if not for him. She'd be back at the school safe and
sound if not for him and no one could make him believe otherwise.
Now she would never be safe or sound. Because of him she was at the end of her
life. Because of him she would die. Now, where and how she died all relied upon
him. He had to decide quickly. Leave her to find help or stay with her and hold
her until the end? He couldn't bring himself to go but neither could he just
give up and wait for her to breathe her last.
If she died there would be nothing left for him in this world.
Ororo believed in the sanctity of life and for that belief she had kept him
from killing a man whom he felt deserved to die. How could one who was so good
and full of love like Ororo die when others less worthy lived on? How could he help her? How could he save her?
And if he couldn't save her how could he go on? How could he live without this
woman who had touched him like no other? There would be no promise of joy and
peace or anything good in his wretched life if she died.
As he accepted these truths that tortured his thoughts repeatedly he felt
himself succumbing to the anguish within his being, but he knew if he did succumb
he would be giving up – something he had never done before and something he
would never allow Ororo to do. Then and
there he vowed to himself that she was not going to die. He wouldn't let her.
He would rather die himself. With deadly
resolve, and renewed vigor, he lifted Ororo, tarp and all, into his arms, and
he began to walk. And as he walked he began to talk, his words clear and loud
ringing in the cold night air.
"I never knew anyone like you before, Ro. No one ever just accepted me with no questions asked."
There was no response but he hadn't expected one and so he continued.
"I mean women like Jean liked me but they never wanted to know me. No one ever
knew the real me – the animal inside me that's always tryin'
to get out. An' if I ever let 'em see even a little
bit of the real me they'd make their excuses an' leave.
"You were never like that. You didn't let it bother you 'cause you said we were
alike. I never believed you – thought you were crazy really but you were right.
We're two of a kind. Hardheaded, free spirits and wild like no one could
understand. Well maybe that crazy Yukio but no one else.
"I wonder if Yukio's okay? If she dies it'll be my
fault too. Mariko and Yukio. Don't even remember 'em an' they're dead or dying . . . just like you . . .
because of me. I'm killing you because I
can't let you go," his voice died and he took a deep ragged breath.
"I should have left you – ran for help somewhere –
shouldn't have moved you – made you bleed even more!"
Something in Ororo's lifeless body responded to his words yet he saw neither an
eyelid flutter nor the slightest rise of her chest. But for the briefest of
moments he felt her. It was uncanny but he felt her as if she were inside of
him somehow. He felt Ororo as if she
were connected to him in his awareness; in his mind and body as if she was
truly a part of him and for that brief moment he knew without a doubt that she
was losing her fight. If he had to describe it he would've said it felt like a
small sigh within his body – no – within his soul but so quiet, so soft that
only something deeper, more aware within him, could detect it. And he would've
been right for it was her soul reaching out to him on a level that even he with
his keen senses had never been privy to before.
"Don't let go, Ro!" he demanded. "You're
made of sterner stuff – remember? You're the Wind-rider! You're Storm! You're a
fighter just like me!"
No answer left her lips. She lay in his
arms still inert. To look upon her one would have thought she was sleeping
peacefully dreaming sweet dreams waiting to wake with the sun. But her body was
now cold instead of hot with fever, her heartbeat slowing down too quickly.
Death hung over her ready to take her.
Logan dropped to his knees and laid her down as gently as he could. He tucked
the bloodied tarp around her and leaned over her almost rocking on his knees.
He put his hand to her neck then to her wrist. There was no pulse. He rested
his head on her chest and heard no heartbeat. He put his lips to hers, felt the
coolness, and instead of giving up or surrendering himself to a berserker rage
he began to breathe for her.
Breathe! Breathe! Breathe! No other thought touched his mind now as he gave her
his own life's breath as he tried to resuscitate
her. Breathing, breathing, then pushing down on her chest, one hand over the other.
"Breathe for me darlin'!" he shouted in despair.
Minutes passed as he continued his attempt to revive her. He knew he was
failing but he couldn't stop. Every fiber within him knew she wouldn't come
back this time but the fighter within him refused to give up and in one final
act of desperation he opened his mind and pleaded for help.
"Professor Xavier! If you can hear me Ororo's dying – she needs your help!
Professor, I need your help!"
It was deathly quiet then and Logan closed his eyes and did something that he
couldn't ever remember doing before. He said
a prayer. He asked for forgiveness and mercy and he
offered up his life for Ororo's. It was
only a few seconds but it seemed more like hours to Logan and then he heard the
Professor's voice loud and clear in his head speaking to him as if he were
standing right there in the dark beside him.
"Logan, I just picked up your location. Scott's in the Blackbird now. Hank and
the healer will be with him. Is – is Ororo . . .?"
"Tell them to get here as fast as they can!" Logan whispered.
"We're doing everything within our power to get to you!"
"Please . . . don't let her die! Professor, don't let her die because of me."
"Not you Logan . . . it's not your fault. It's mine. Please forgive me."
Their contact was broken then. The Professor felt nearly as awful as Logan did. Charles believed that he alone was to be
blamed – that if he hadn't let Ororo go she wouldn't be dying now. If she died
he would forever blame himself. He had known the risk, played with fire, and
now he would have to suffer the consequences.
