Freedom

by Stormkpr

The second book in my trilogy in which the X-men must fight back against the dominant FOH. Adults only please. COMPLETED

14. Chapter 14

Leigh's Fanfiction Archive Stormkeeper's Fanfiction Freedom Chapter 14

Freedom

By Stormkeeper

Chapter 14

It was silent in our cell. Those who had been crying had long since ceased sobbing. Nightcrawler's whispered prayers had been ended by a guard who used the collar device on Kurt to compel him to stop. Kurt's lips were still moving though no sound came from his mouth.

I just sat holding Hank's hand, trying in vain to think of anything but Jean-Paul, anything besides what they were doing to him that minute. Panda had been sitting with Hank's other arm around her but I noticed that she must've moved at some point and was now sitting on my other side. I think big, cuddly, warm people with fur on their bodies will always mean comfort to me. Maybe they always have. My parents did have a St. Bernard when I was a kid, maybe that's why. I didn't have a comb on me but I was using my fingernails to scratch my two furry friends and I think they liked it.

I saw out of the corner of my eye that our two guards suddenly jerk upright as if standing at attention. They then strode to the side of the wall. I blinked and then saw Psylocke and Marrow outside our cell.

Psylocke and Marrow!

As one of the guards handed over the keys to the cell and the collar control device, I noted that there were several other people there with the two former X-men but I was too stunned to really take it all in.

Psylocke pressed a few buttons and that was it. Our collars popped off. We leapt to our feet.

And then it was pandemonium. Our forcefield was dropped. I heard Psylocke talking to Storm, pointing and telling her where Freedom was being housed. Marrow said something like she was repaying the favor she owes us. She and Psylocke then ran off, though Angel called after Psylocke. She didn't respond and they were gone in an instant.

And then there were the people with Psylocke and Marrow. I guess most of them were Jean Grey's relatives and they asked the Professor about her. The Professor said that we would take them with us. There were also two other mutants with them---one of whom the other X-men knew and the other who looked ghastly.

There was also a young guy in an FOH uniform. Seconds after Psylocke and Marrow made their exit (where they went, I have no idea), other FOH soldiers came, some of them yelling that this guy was a traitor. But now that we had our powers back, we had no trouble holding off the soldiers. I froze half of them in a block of ice and Gambit threw charged cards at the others to get them to run.

"This way to Freedom!" Storm pointed, following the directions that Psylocke had specified.

"What about Northstar?" Jeanne-Marie and I asked at virtually the same time.

"He is this way," the Professor gestured. His powers come in handy.

"Let's get him and get to our ship!" Storm said.

So off we went, all of us suddenly charged up and in battle-mode. We didn't see the Professor's hoverchair anywhere so Panda carried him. (She was strong---not super-strong---but strong enough and she had been lifting weights too.)

"Down that hall to the left!" the Professor pointed. I was running as fast as possible but it still wasn't fast enough so I made an ice slide. Jeanne-Marie, using her super-speed, burst ahead of the group. We encountered several soldiers on the way but they were toast. With our powers back, we were too strong. I heard the whining of an alarm off in the distance.

"Remember to stick together!" Wolverine yelled. "We can't let 'em get their hands on even one of us!"

We were a big group, especially with the eight extra people we'd picked up. The guy in the FOH uniform was sticking with us. The soldiers we ran into kept recognizing him and knew he had betrayed them. Two of the people we'd picked up were Jean's elderly parents. Rogue picked them both up and flew them along with us to help them keep pace.

I caught up with Jeanne-Marie. She was calling out her brother's name. When she saw me, she turned. "Behind this door!" she said.

It was locked. I turned my head and Wolverine was beside us in a second. He unsheathed those claws and tore the door down.

We charged through the door. My heart stopped when I saw.

Jean-Paul was alone, laying on the floor and naked. There was blood everywhere. He was unconscious.

Or was he?

"Is he alive?" Jeanne-Marie asked, her voice throaty and trembling.

Wolverine sniffed a few times and then went right up to Jean-Paul, checking his neck for a pulse. "Yes," he said.

Hank had caught up to us by now. "We should not attempt move him," he said. "I suspect he has some severe injuries."

"What do we do?" I asked. My voice and hands were shaking.

"If we can get back to the ship, we can beam him aboard," Wolverine said.

By then, Storm and most of the others had caught up with us. They were battling some FOH soldiers outside as we stood in that room and debated. We eventually decided to bring Jean-Paul with us. We didn't want to separate and we couldn't leave Jean-Paul behind, otherwise FOH might use him as they had with Colossus and Hank, as bait to force a surrender.

So Hank hoisted him over his shoulder and we went on our way. I focused all of my energy towards getting to that ship and getting out of here. I didn't want to think of what condition Jean-Paul was in.

The X-men reached the shuttle bay where Freedom was being kept. As Panda held onto him, the Professor focussed his abilities on getting inside the minds of the FOH troops and turning them away from fighting. Those who he couldn't reach were held at bay by Storm's bolts of lightening, Iceman's shots of ice, Gambit's charged cards, and others impediments.

By the time FOH had mobilized the mutants who aided them and gotten the Sentinels cranked up, the X-men had boarded Freedom. A few FOH soldiers had been inside the ship. Most of them ran when they realized what was happening. Those who did not run were beamed off the ship by the X-men.

"What do we do with this guy?" Wolverine asked, gesturing at Mark.

"He helped us!" Sara said, clutching her children's hands in her own. "He helped make the rescue possible."

"Yeah, he's on our side," Cannonball added. "Psylocke scanned his mind and said that was the truth."

Mark was more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. His fellow FOH members knew he was a traitor. He'd been seen by too many others, soldiers whom the X-men had left alive. Even the guards at the post who had let his van in would report him. There was no turning back and nowhere on earth that would house him.

But now he stood before the X-men. Surely they detested him. They would despise him even more had they known his brother was one of the men on board the ship which had kidnapped them. He couldn't live among mutants either. There simply was nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. He had run out of choices.

"There's only one thing I can do," Mark said somberly. He reached for his pistol and brought it towards his temple.

"No!" Xavier said. The weapon flew from Mark's hand and landed on the floor with a thud. "We will offer you haven with us."

"We don't have time to debate!" Wolverine said. "You comin' or not?"

Mark nodded and then ran up the ramp to Freedom with the others. "You just make sure you take that uniform off, boy," Wolverine added.

As three FOH starships rushed towards Freedom, the vessel cloaked itself. Storm took the helm and maneuvered the ship out of the bay. As soon as it had cleared the hangar, Storm put Freedom into warp drive.

The X-men tried to swoop back towards the camp and rescue some of the mutants. But now four FOH vessels patrolled it. Dropping their shields to beam up mutants would have been too risky. The Professor attempted to enter the minds of a few of the starship captains but he again encountered interference from the telepath working for the Friends of Humanity.

He then changed his approach and tried to reach the mind of the leader of the FOH. For whatever reason, the telepath who had been blocking him did not prevent him from tapping into the mind of General Smith.

Xavier was aware of some arguing and debate going on behind him, as Wolverine, Storm and Rogue discussed their next course of action. No one wanted to leave earth empty-handed yet again, failing to have rescued more mutants. But now it seemed that every FOH starship was being called back to earth and the ships swarmed around. Had it not been for their enhanced cloak which hid Freedom from the other vessels, the X-men surely would have been shot down by now.

The Professor then turned to face the group. He had been silent and focused but within an instant's time, he was able to recall the conversation among the three that he had tuned out. "I agree with Storm as well," he said. "But do not despair. Our mission perhaps was not a total loss. I was able to make contact with the mind of General Smith." He paused. "Smith is the leader of the Friends of Humanity. I entered his mind, as we planned, and I planted some seeds of doubt. I made him experience some of what his victims felt. I did the same for a few of his other Generals. Smith, I think, might be too far gone. But I might have had some success with the others. I know

you all feel intense disappointment. But if enough high-ranking FOH officers change their minds, the impact of this could be staggering."

"You are right, Professor," Storm said.

Wolverine took a deep breath. He was angry and frustrated that their mission had gone so poorly, and he was outraged at their imprisonment and the torture of Storm. He was also furious with himself for a reason he could not explain. Perhaps he was angry at himself for being afraid. He feared that should they engage FOH in battle or attempt to beam up more mutants and lose that Storm, or one of the others, would again be raped. Fortunately, what the Professor had said provided a modicum of solace.

"Perhaps we can go back," Storm continued. "Let us wait it out a few days before we swoop back towards earth. Maybe we can try to rescue another camp while their attention is diverted."

The group agreed to that idea. Charles then used his telekinesis to move himself closer to Storm. (During the rush to leave the FOH base, they had not been able to retrieve his hoverchair. For the time being he was be using his telekinesis to move about.) "Storm," he began quietly, "I am sure that the rest of us can handle guiding the ship now. Why don't you take a rest?"

Storm prepared to protest---there was so much to do---but she realized the truth of his words. She wanted a proper bath and some quiet time to meditate and pray more than anything. The X-men were out of the woods now. Storm silently nodded and rose to leave the bridge.

Wolverine followed her with his eyes as she exited the room. As she walked past him, he caught a whiff of the stench from the FOH soldiers who had assaulted her. He swallowed his rage. For a split second, Wolverine considered following her but he stopped himself. He knew Storm. She would want to be alone.

The Professor, Rogue and Wolverine then held down the bridge, keeping their eyes on the monitors and preparing to defend the ship at any provocation. Charles was alert for signs of the telepathic mind that had interfered with him before. He caught no hint of his fellow psychic any longer.

Shortly after Storm left the bridge, Gambit entered it, pushing a wheelchair. "Here you go, Professor," he said. "Dis won't be as good as your hoverchair but the replicators didn't have a pattern for anyt'ing like dat. Dis will get you around at leas'."

"Thank you, Gambit. It is more than adequate," the Professor said. He floated himself onto the seat. This would take some getting used to. His hoverchair had acted almost as an extension of his own body. This wheelchair was not much more advanced than ones used decades ago; it required the user to push the wheels with their arms. Charles knew he had strong arms; he continued to lift weights regularly. If need be, he could always propel it along with his telekinesis too.

Wolverine looked at Gambit. "Got an assignment for ya, Cajun. Need you to run some scans on the ship. FOH had their grubby hands on it for a few days and we gotta make sure there ain't any bugs or shit like that."

Gambit nodded. He didn't particularly like taking orders but what Wolverine said had some truth to it. The last thing they needed was to be followed, tracked, monitored. If FOH planted anything, surely a routine scan would not uncover it. Gambit smiled at the challenge he was given.

Neither Jeanne-Marie nor I paid much notice to whatever was happening on the bridge. I didn't feel the ship rocking so I assumed we'd managed to evade the starships following us and weren't planning on going back to earth for another chance at rescuing the mutants in the camps. Jeanne-Marie and I were in sick bay with Northstar. I had nothing but Jean-Paul on my mind.

He'd been in terrible condition when we'd found him. The soldiers had brutalized him and he was still unconscious. When we got to sick bay, my heart sank. Beast, Panda and Shaman stood over him, doing their thing. I don't know shit about medical jargon but from what Hank and the others were saying, I could tell that Jean-Paul had almost certainly been raped. Or that they'd stuck something or some things up his rectum, probably more than once. I heard such terms as "perforation" and something about holes in the lining of the colon. My stomach churned.

"Shaman, can't you do anything?" Jeanne-Marie called out.

Shaman moved away from the bed and walked over to Jeanne-Marie and I. "Jeanne-Marie, please relax," he said quietly. "I will use my powers to heal his cuts and bruises. He has a fever and I can use my powers to help bring it down. But Jean-Paul is going to need surgery. I will use my powers to help bring him to a point where the operation will be possible."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" I asked.

Shaman turned his head, looked back at Hank and Panda, and exchanged a few words with them. "They are preparing for surgery now. I think the best thing you could do to help would be to leave the room. We will need our space."

I knew he was right. But I didn't want to leave and neither did Jeanne-Marie. Shaman gently ushered us out.

Jeanne-Marie and I then stood in the hallway, dazed. She finally muttered that she was going to take a shower and off she went. I couldn't imagine that she'd want me to comfort her and I knew I wasn't up for that anyway. I just stood there in the hall. I knew that I should do something. Surely there were a million things happening right now and someone needed a hand somewhere. But I wasn't motivated at that point. Eventually I plodded back to my room, shed my clothing, took that shower and shaved my stubbly face.

Angel sat with Elena. He knew she needed some comforting from the loss of Colossus. They sat together in the rec room, Angel gripping her hand. A casual onlooker might have assumed that Warren had some designs on her. In truth, he did not. He was tired of mourning his own losses and wanted to keep an eye on Elena to help keep her from going out of her mind with grief.

Nightcrawler had been asked to both to show the X-men's new crewmates around as well as to keep an eye on the (former?) FOH soldier. Kurt introduced or reintroduced himself to the five members of the Grey family as well as to Cannonball, Wraith and Mark. Almost as soon as Freedom had reached orbit, Mark had located a supply room and donned some nondescript khaki and white clothing, bereft of the despised FOH logo. His hands still shook and he had no idea what awaited him. He continued to be amazed that seven people he had captured from the Grey household seemed to bear him no ill will. Neither did the furry blue elf-like man who stood before them.

"Of course I remember you," John Grey was saying to Kurt. "You were at Jean and Scott's wedding."

"I have a face that it is difficult to forget, yes?" Kurt smiled.

"How long until we reach Jean?" Elaine asked.

"If all goes as planned, we will be back on An'zhina in five weeks."

"I can't wait to see Jean again! I have dreamed of this for so long!"

"And our new grandchildren," John added.

"Can one of you help Joey?" Sara asked, about her son. "His power seems to be that he can see through things but he can't control it at all."

All eyes turned to Joey. His eyes were open and focussed. "It's ok now," he said. "But sometimes it gets so bad and so confusing that I don't know what I'm seeing. Sometimes I just have to close my eyes." He then added, "Mom, I want to be called Joe now----not Joey. Remember?"

Nightcrawler smiled, seeing that there was indeed a pre-teenager inside him despite how difficult his life had been the last few years. "We will indeed teach you how to control your gifts, Joe," he promised.

Kurt first brought the group to sick bay, but a sign on the door indicated that surgery was taking place and asked for no interruptions. The new crewmembers had a few minor bruises and scrapes which Kurt was able to treat outside of the infirmary. He showed them all the main areas of the ship and assigned each a room.

When they reached the bridge, Nightcrawler said, "I think it might be better if we do not disturb them just yet. We will show you the bridge some other time." Part of his hesitation had to do with having Mark there. Kurt knew it would not be wise to have the former FOH soldier on the bridge.

Nightcrawler then brought them to the recreation room, where Angel was sitting with Elena. Angel rose and pulled Nightcrawler aside as the others awkwardly explored the room, no one sure what to do with Elena who sat quietly, staring off into space.

"What are we supposed to do with the soldier?" Angel asked.

"I do not know," Kurt replied.

"He must be a threat."

Nightcrawler nodded. "I know, my friend. But the Professor did not seem too worried."

"I still think we need to keep an eye on him. A very close eye."

"I have been doing so," Kurt said. He took a quick peek at Elena. "Speaking of keeping an eye on someone…."

"I know. I plan to stay with her…until someone else comes along to relieve me. I'd be worried that she might kill herself."

"Me too." Kurt sighed. Acute disappointment was sinking in for Nightcrawler. Their mission was again a failure. They had rescued Jean's parents and sister, and four other mutants. But that was it. Like spitting into the ocean. And Kurt knew that everyone was again quite traumatized from what had been done to Storm and Northstar. No one seemed to want a return engagement. He sighed. No, life was not easy for mutants.

Storm brushed away feelings of guilt. She knew there was much to be done on board the starship. She had not even exchanged a proper greeting with the Greys or introduced herself to the others. Yet part of her shell had cracked and she simply had no more desire to pretend she was invincible. She knew she needed some time to recuperate, some time to be alone --- and the Wind Rider decided to take it.

First she bathed. The warm, soapy water helped to soothe her. She lay back in the tub, resting her head and enjoying the sensations. She dipped her head back and immersed her hair in the water too. After quite some time, she rose from the tub and patted her body dry. Using a towel, she wrapped her hair into a turban-style. Reaching for a hand mirror and turning the lighting up, Storm examined herself. She had been bleeding from some abrasions but the bleeding had long since stopped. Her brief exam confirmed what she had already known---no major physical damage. It could have been worse. It had been much worse last time; when the X-men had gained control of the ship, Storm had allowed Hank to examine and tend to her.

Storm then clothed herself in a robe and left her bathroom. Entering the main part of her quarters, she reached inside one of the drawers and pulled out two candles. She placed them on the nightstand, next to a small, leafy plant that she had begun growing on An'zhina and had brought with. Storm also reached for a few other things---replicated sage, a feather that she had picked from the ground on the Paradise Planet, a dried tomato from one of Bobby's gardens, and a leaf from a bush on An'zhina. The sage was for purification. The later objects signified the divine to her---the presence of the Goddess within nature. Ideally, she would have an object from earth to use but that was not possible.

She then spent quite some time in meditation and prayer. Storm forced herself to concentrate and block out time, forget about the nagging voice reminding her that there was work to be done. When she was done, she rose from her cross-legged position on the floor and dressed herself.

Her communicator let out a blip, signifying a non-urgent message. Storm retrieved the message. Everyone on board the ship was being invited to dinner. The group would get a chance to sit down together, talk, and decide what to do next. Storm felt 100% better. She checked her timepiece and saw that it was time to go.

As Storm strode towards the mess hall, she ran into Rogue and Gambit in the hall. The newlyweds went right up to her and enfolded her in a hug. Storm stood and allowed herself to enjoy this, allowed herself to savor Rogue and Remy's caring for her. The three held the hug for many moments.

After Storm broke it off, Rogue reached for her friend's white hair and stroked it a few times. "Sugar, you wanna talk?" she asked gently.

Storm reached for Rogue's hand and held it. Rogue had long since shed her gloves as she was now able to touch whatever she wanted. "Perhaps some other time, Rogue," Storm replied.

Rogue looked disappointed but Storm then added, "No, I mean it. I think I may very well take you up on that offer. Just not now."

"I understand. Whenever you need me, girl, I'm here."

Gambit added, "You know dat you can talk to Remy too if you ever want."

"Thank you, Remy." She paused, and then asked, "Are you two coming to dinner?"

"No. We be headin' to de bridge. We got bridge duty now."

So Rogue and Gambit went off in the direction of the bridge. Storm soon entered the mess hall. About half of the rest of the ship's inhabitants were already there, milling around and talking to each other before dinner would be served.

Storm saw Wolverine. Out of habit, she went right up to him. She knew she had been failing to disguise it, but her eyes always lit up when she saw him. Wolverine embraced her, and as always, Storm was forced to admit to herself how much his gesture meant to her.

Wolverine had been talking to Hector Rendoza/Wraith. Hector had walked into the mess hall feeling a bit dazed, but Wolverine had spotted him and Hector struck up a conversation. He was already feeling much better. As soon as Storm took Wolverine's side and they had finished their embrace, Hector asked Logan, "Is this your wife?"

Storm smiled, "No; we're not married. I am called Storm. My real name is Ororo Monroe."

She shook Hector's hand. Wraith had found a hooded jacket to wear on top of the rest of his apparel so that the only exposed part of him was his ghastly face, which the hood helped to obscure. He couldn't get over how nonchalant everyone behaved. No one was freaking out over his looks. Of course, he was in a room with a blue-skinned man with huge wings, a blue-skinned elf complete with a tail, a Russian woman with pink skin and orange hair….Wraith practically fit right in!

Storm turned her head at the sound of the doors sliding aside. Panda entered the room. "Panda, is there any news on Northstar?" she asked.

The room fell silent to hear Panda's report. "The surgery is finished. Hank—we---think Northstar will pull through alright. Hank is staying in sick bay with him. Bobby and Jeanne-Marie are there too, and Shaman is using his powers to help Northstar recover from the surgery….and from everything.."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Storm asked. Many of the others were wondering why exactly Northstar would have needed surgery. However, many of them had an idea and were loathe to bring it up in public.

"I don't think so. Not at this point. Hank prefers that Northstar not have visitors ---he's unconscious anyway---so it would probably be best if everyone could just keep out of sick bay. We just couldn't get Bobby and Jeanne-Marie to stay out this time." Panda paused. "I'll be joining you for dinner. I asked the others in sick bay if they want me to bring any food back to them but none of them say they're hungry."

"Thank goodness Northstar will recover," Storm breathed. She felt ashamed that she had nearly forgotten about him and his situation. Her shame deepened when she realized that she'd been more concerned about recovering from the rape than she had been grieving over Colossus's death. 'The Goddess does not want me to be so hard on myself,' Storm told herself. I must stop berating myself. Peter's death has not yet sunk in for me, and when it does, I will grieve in due time.' She also resolved to check in with Bobby when she got a chance----the poor guy must have been going out of his mind with worry over Northstar's condition.

The group soon sat down to dinner. Storm swirled her head towards the doorway when she heard the doors again slide apart and someone new enter. "There you are, honey!" Elaine Grey exclaimed as she spotted her younger daughter entering the room late. Sara apologized for her tardiness and took an empty seat around the table. The rest of the group had just finished introducing themselves and asked Sara to follow suit.

"My name's Sara Grey," she said. "Jean's sister," she added with a smile. She had met the Professor, Storm and a few of the others at Jean's wedding and remembered them well. "My married name was Szyrdelski," she continued, "but after the divorce, I went back to using Grey. The kids still have their father's last name though," she said, nodding in the direction of Joe and Gail.

Storm smiled. "You will find that last names on An'zhina don't matter so much. Jean once told me she can't remember if her last name is Grey or Summers or Summers-Grey or Grey-Summers, but last she recalled, she and Scott had both decided to hyphenate."

The newcomers to Freedom then asked the X-men dozens of questions about An'zhina and the Endarians. The Greys, of course, asked about Jean and Scott and their children. The group chatted amicably about these topics. The Professor took a quick mental read of the group. He sensed that no one yet wanted to discuss the weightier matters such as Colossus's death or where to go next. He was content to allow the group to talk about what it wanted to. Hector Rendoza was asking dozens of questions about the X-men and the missions and accomplishments of the team over the years. Angel and Nightcrawler were both more than happy to indulge him with tales from the group's history.

Shaman told Gail that he had a daughter living on An'zhina who was a bit younger than Gail. Gail thanked him for that news and looked forward to possibly making a friend. Having no one near her age other than her brother was wearing on her.

As the conversation continued on, Storm suddenly felt a sensation welling up in the pit of her stomach. Her gaze continually to shifted between Logan and Sara. She watched her lover watch Sara. Logan was looking at Sara as a hungry dog eyes a dripping bone. Sara had beauty----she was not quite as resplendent as her elder sister but beautiful still. The unease continued to swell inside Storm's gut. She slowly lowered her fork to the plate, finding that her appetite had vanished.

Eventually Storm looked again at Sara, unable to read her expression and wishing she could read the other woman's thoughts. But Wolverine's look she knew all too well. It was the look that Wolverine used to give Jean….and the look that he had never given Storm. Storm tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

After dinner, Mark was approached by Professor Xavier. "Do you have some time right now?" he asked softly. "I would like for us to sit down and talk."

"Of course," Mark stammered. The two men then went off towards a conference room. Mark's heart pounded as he walked down the hall. He'd been almost silent during the meal, listening in awe and shock to the stories about the X-men's past and about this amazing place called An'zhina. Several times he had gotten the feeling of not knowing quite where he was or disbelieving what his eyes and ears were transmitting to the brain.

Mark and the Professor reached the small conference room and Mark found himself sitting across from the man who FOH had vilified and made into a virtual demon. Mark was old enough to remember the days before the rise of FOH, when Xavier had been a respected leader and spokesman for peace and cooperation. And he is going to hate my guts when he realizes what I've done to mutants,' Mark thought. He then stopped himself. Xavier is a telepath. He must already know----'

"How are you today?" Charles asked.

Mark managed a smile. "You're a telepath, right? So you must know already," he said, attempting a flippant tone of voice.

"I do not make it a practice to enter other people's minds unless I have a reason," the Professor said. "I have always taught my students that we mutants must be careful to not abuse our gifts." He paused. "I did enter your mind once before, when you were helping us escape. I needed to make sure that you were not some sort of plant."

Mark nodded. He also had no idea how to respond. Finally, he managed, "So I assume I checked out okay?" he asked. He winced when he heard how trite his words sounded.

"Yes. I can tell that you harbor no ill-will towards us and are not some sort of spy. But enough of what I sense, Mark. Why don't you tell me a bit about your background. Where you grew up, how you came to Friends of Humanity."

So Mark told the Professor the entire story----about growing up in a working class family, the recession hitting them hard when Mark was in his early teens. He mentioned that his older brother Mike joined FOH, though he left out the fact that Mike had been assigned to this very vessel back when it was under the control of FOH. "I—I didn't really want to join the FOH," Mark was saying. "I know it's no excuse. But it was the only job I could find that paid a decent wage and would cover our parents under the insurance plan. My Dad was so sick for a while. He's better now though." The Professor seemed to be encouraging him to go on, so Mark continued. "I never agreed with what FOH said about mutants being evil and about destroying them. I mean, I hated all the propaganda and stuff. I hated rounding up mutants into camps and the way we treated them there."

The Professor remained silent but Mark stopped in his tracks. A strange analogy popped into his head. His ex-girlfriend was Catholic, and she'd told him about going to Confession. Mark felt like he was doing that now---sitting in front of this dignified, gentle man and pouring out his soul, revealing his sins. Mark expected no absolution from the Professor. But he had to tell him. "I did some horrible things while I worked in the camps. We---I suppose you know how badly mutants are treated at those camps. I'm as guilty as everyone else. I never did anything to try to stop it either."

"You helped us escape," the Professor said.

"Yes. But it's not enough. And there aren't any excuses for what I did." He paused. "Professor, what's going to happen to me here? I mean, I've done terrible things to mutants. Your people---you X-men---have every reason to hate me. But I can't return to earth. Too many people saw me help you escape."

"If you decide to stay here with us, I assure you that no one here will harm you. I will talk with everyone about this and make sure they understand your situation. You have done harmful things to mutants but that does not make you a bad person." Charles reminded himself to be forgiving with Mark for his failures. Atrocities happen when good men like Mark simply go along with what they know is wrong. Still, I cannot condemn him for being human and making mistakes.' "Of course," the Professor said, "if you want to return to earth, we can arrange it. As you said, it might be a problem now, given that the Friends of Humanity know you helped us."

Mark nodded. "I don't see any way to go back. They'll either throw me in a jail cell forever or….or worse. And I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back to the camps, to hurting mutants. What I was doing was so wrong."

"Then, as I said, you are welcome to stay with us."

"Thank you, Professor."

Mark then looked down at his hands. There was one more thing, one more question that he had to have an answer to. "Professor," he began, "the members of Friends of Humanity who were the

crew of this ship. Before you took it over." A pause. "What ever happened to them?"

Charles took a breath. "They were executed. We X-men discussed at length what to do with them. We felt they did need to be punished for what they did----raping and torturing some of us, killing many of our friends, abducting us, destroying the mansion. I personally disagreed with the decision to end their lives but I was overruled." Charles paused and took a look at Mark's expression. He was not reading the man's mind, but he asked him, "Did you have friends aboard this ship?"

"No," Mark answered, reflexively. "I was just wondering." Later on, Mark would wonder about that, knowing what he did of the mutant's powers and ability to enter other's minds. But at the time, he didn't worry about the answer. He already knew his brother had to be dead. This simply confirmed it.

The two men continued talking for a little while longer. Afterwards, the Professor had much to do. He was exhausted and settled down in his bed, but sleep did not come. So much to do the next day. He wanted to hold a meeting soon for all the X-men to plan for a fast return to earth for another rescue attempt. He would have to take an audible and see who needed help to recover from the loss of Colossus. Charles resolved to see Elena tomorrow. He would also have to check in with Northstar, learn how his recovery was progressing and see if Bobby needed any help. And Storm, of course. He had known her for many years and doubted she would want to confide in him about her rape but he had to at least express his caring. Jeanne-Marie might also want his help, given that she was grieving for her son and now her brothers too. And he would have to talk more with the Greys, Cannonball, and Wraith, helping them get accustomed.

Storm had been the first to leave the dinner. She excused herself as the others were getting up to replicate dessert.

Shortly after Storm reached her room, her communicator let out another blip, indicating a non-urgent message. It was Beast. He wanted to know if she would like to have a medical examination. Although his voice on the recording was professional as always, she heard his concern in it too and was sincerely touched. She also heard exhaustion, and it was no wonder as he had just finished performing surgery. Storm decided that she would take him up on his offer, but later. Give Beast some time to rest. Besides, she knew with her pregnancy was not a concern; she had never been able to conceive in her life. But it was possible she picked up some sort of disease; none of the men had worn condoms. Storm rarely—if ever—experienced physical sickness. But still.

I should talk to Elena and be there for her,' Storm thought guiltily. But she had spotted several others trying to engage the Russian in conversation during dinner. Nightcrawler is exceptionally compassionate. Maybe he will make himself available should she need someone.'

Storm then removed her clothing, changing into her soft robe. The silk-like material felt soothing against her skin. She reached for a book and settled down in bed with it. She tried to lose herself in the pages, get her mind off of things and deflect attention from what was truly bothering her. Away from Logan and the beautiful redhead. Self-pity will get me nowhere,' she reminded herself. And jealousy will not do my any good either.'

She then silently cursed, realizing she hadn't paid attention to the last few paragraphs she'd just finished reading. All she thought of was the honorable, strong man she loved and who did not return her love. Storm clutched her chest, feeling some physical pain. She then startled when she heard a knock at her door.

Storm rapidly rose to her feet and walked towards the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Wolverine.

Storm pressed the button to slide the door aside. "Logan," she breathed his name.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." She stepped back to allow him into her room. "Y-you're always welcome here." Storm didn't know if she was too tired, too sad or what but her usually cool and steady demeanor was gone---and she had no desire to fake it. Her defenses were down and they weren't going back up any time soon. She also found that she could not meet Wolverine's eyes. If she did, her feelings would be too obvious----not that he probably didn't already know.

"Darlin', I….I jus' wanted to see if you're alright."

As a reflex, Storm replied, "I'm fine."

Wolverine looked at her. "I know you too well, darlin'. An' I know you're gonna try to pretend everything's ok. And if that's what works for you, I'm not gonna try an' stop you…..I jus' wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if you want someone."

Wolverine was surprised when Storm wordlessly put her arms around him and stooped down so her head could rest on his shoulder. He pulled her into an embrace and held onto her warmth.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, Logan would have to admit that he was self-conscious about his height. As strong and powerful as he was and as little as his height had been a disadvantage in battle all these years, he really would have preferred to stand another foot taller than he did. Like just now, Storm was awkwardly bent over so her head could rest on his shoulder. He felt her body shaking and thought perhaps she was crying.

After a while, he whispered, "C'mon," and brought her over towards the bed. It was easier that way; they sat together, Storm still burying her face in his shoulder. He was certain now she was crying. "That's good," he murmured. "Let it all out." Wolverine searched his memory, trying to remember if he'd ever before observed Storm crying. He only wished he could've made good on his promise and made those soldiers pay. From what he recalled of the battle, they hadn't encountered during the battle that FOH leader, the one who had first assaulted Storm. If they had, Wolverine would've put his claws to good use.

But it was actually heartening that Ororo wept. She held too much in, always had to maintain her control lest her powers become chaos. Wolverine could never fully understand that. She was crying a bit harder now, a bit louder too.

Many minutes passed. At last, Storm brought her head up and wiped her tears with one hand. "Here," Logan said, offering her his sleeve.

"Thanks," Storm said, bedewing his sleeve with her tears. She didn't have the energy to be embarrassed. So he saw her cry. That's alright, she told herself. I'm tired of being the strong one.' Besides, he would just think she'd been weeping over the rapes. When she'd finished wiping her tears, she rested her head against him once more. "So good that you're here with me," she murmured. "This makes it so much easier."

"Glad you're lettin' it out for once," he said, caressing her hair as he held her.

Gradually, Storm's touches took on a new nuance. Her warm hands had made their way underneath his shirt and were touching the taut skin, playing with the curly hair. Her hands then slowly moved down towards his thighs, and then, gradually, towards his groin. She'd raised her head and was exploring one of his ears with her lips and tongue.

Wolverine was surprised. "Darlin'….you really want this now?"

"Yes, Logan," she whispered. "Make love to me now. That will make it all better."

Surprised as he was, he returned her kisses and touches, although having her keep the lead. Logan rationalized that he truly could not have been certain how she would react. Last time she had been desecrated, they had not been lovers beforehand and when she had asked him to her bed, it had been over a year since the assaults. So he had no idea how long it would take her to recover from this but had been gearing up to expect to wait perhaps weeks or months.

Wolverine remembered back to what it had been like on the Paradise Planet, before Storm had asked him to become her lover. She—and most mutant women---were aroused more often than non-mutant women; he could easily smell it. Those months on the planet had been agonizing. A stallion around a mare in heat would not hold back and it had taken every ounce of willpower for Wolverine to do the same. Finally, thankfully, Storm had initiated things.

Soon those thoughts were far from Logan's mind though. Storm had unzipped his pants and was stroking his rapidly hardening member. She was soon tugging his pants down and helping him to be rid of his shirt. Her robe was flung across the room. No need to hold back any longer, Wolverine knew, just let her set the pace and be as delicate as possible. Delicate' wasn't a word in his vocabulary, but he would do this best.

After not long, Storm was straddling Logan, looking down at the rugged man who she loved so much. She liked playing with his hair; there was so much of it all over his body. She had taken to twisting patches of it between her fingers after their lovemaking. But that would wait for later----for now she stroked the muscles that bulged from his chest, shoulders, and arms.

Storm's glorious white hair formed a cloak that surrounded them. She saw the look on his face and knew that he loved this sight of her, being enveloped by her hair, loving the sight of her breasts and feeling the heat from her center as her legs straddled him. They had been lovers for so long that she knew his likes and knew he adored this view. Storm let him savor it for a while, languorously playing with her bountiful breasts, fondling them. She then bent downwards to kiss his lips and he returned the kiss, though more gently than usual. His hands were all over her too, but slower and lighter than usual. After the kiss, Storm sat back on her heels again, looking down at the sight of him.

"Scoot forward, darlin'," he asked, his hands now stroking lightly against her core. "You wanna let me eat you?"

Storm did indeed want it. She straddled his head as his lips and tongue did their heavenly work. She braced herself against the bedboards. After just a bit, they changed their position since both knew that Storm didn't enjoy receiving in that position as much as some others. So they rearranged themselves, Storm sitting on the edge of the bed and Wolverine kneeling before it, her elegantly long legs draped around him. Still his strokes and nibbles were more tame than usual but Storm found herself enjoying it no less.

And later, when Storm had resumed her position on top of him, grinding herself up and down on his rod, she chased rational thoughts away from her mind, trying to concentrate on their pleasure. The deplorable FOH soldiers couldn't take this away from her, she thought triumphantly, as her muscles spasmed and she cried out with the force of her climax. Wolverine followed just a moment later.

After not long, the lovers lay together on the bed. "Don't go," she had implored him. And so he stayed with her, an arm flung over her midsection. As Storm played with some of the hair that covered his body, her thoughts continued to run. He's only here because I asked him, because he thinks I'm upset about the rapes and he's doing his duty to comfort me. A man of honor, of duty. He doesn't know that I cried because I can tell how he feels about Sara. Shame on me for manipulating him so. If I had any gumption, I would just tell him how I feel about him and be able to withstand it when he tells me he does not share those feelings.'

Storm then started to wonder. Had Wolverine pretended that she was Sara the entire time?

Goddess, give me strength. Give me strength to either tell him how I feel about him or to truly accept that he's not mine and end this!'

Storm's thoughts continued, I am not fooling myself one bit. I love Logan too much and I love our coupling together. I wouldn't give that up for the galaxy, even if it's the only piece of him that I possess. Besides….I might not have him for too much longer, should Sara return his feelings. For all I know, this might have been the last time….'

Storm looked at Wolverine and saw that he had fallen asleep. She remained by his side, though sleep did not come to her for a very long time.

Hours ago, we had practically pushed Hank out of sick bay. We assured him that we were content to watch over Jean-Paul and should any change in his condition occur, we would notify him at once. Jeanne-Marie and I had been in combat and hospital situations enough to have a sense of what the blips on the monitors meant. Hank kept insisting that he should stay, but he was exhausted and we were relieved when he agreed to go to bed.

Jeanne-Marie and I drank cup after cup of coffee. I usually didn't do this; usually had one small cup in the morning and that's it. So I was wide-awake and alert but somehow bone-tired too. Jeanne-Marie and I talked in between trips to the bathroom.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," I said. "For everything you've been through. I know you've lost so much, and now this."

"I thank you for your sympathy," she said, wearily. "I know I need to think of a way to go on without Stephan but I feel as though a part of my body was chopped off. I don't know how much more I can withstand."

"I can only imagine how you feel. I wish I could do something to make it better."

Jeanne-Marie looked at her brother who remained on the bed, unconscious. "Well, at least I have him. Hank did say he will pull through." Both she and I had repeated those words of Hank's numerous times to ourselves and to each other.

"He wouldn't have left this room if he wasn't certain Jean-Paul will be ok. And whatever Shaman did really seemed to make him better. His fever is way down. Even now he looks like he's sleeping peacefully."

"I worry about him mentally though."

"Me too," I said.

"Well, he survived being tortured before. And that was for months on end. He'll have to make it this time as well."

There was more I wanted to say to Jeanne-Marie, but I couldn't quite find the words or think of a way to make it not sound corny. I wanted to tell her that I loved her brother and hoped she might regard me as a brother as well, and I'd like to see her as a sister. But maybe the time wasn't quite right. Those things can't be forced or willed into existence either. And I kept thinking that she had indeed lost so much, she wasn't about to let anyone new into her heart. I was warned that she had many sides to her personality and somehow she'd always been standoffish with me though distantly pleasant too----but I suspected the pleasantness had more to do with the fact that I was Jean-Paul's lover. I also saw so much of myself in her….I could see some resentment of the time Jean-Paul and I spent together just as I had resented Panda for taking Hank away from me.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating things. Panda and I now basically get along just fine. I like her. And maybe Jeanne-Marie doesn't resent me so much, though I know I see a little of it from her. But that night, she just looked tired.

Chapter 13

Chapter 15