Disclaimer: X-Men are not mine. They belong to Marvel, whose done some truly bizarre thing with them. This is done strictly for fun and I'm making no money. Seriously hope you didn't think I was.
Paper Flowers
Chapter 3 – Don't Believe
Well, hell. Looks like the whole flamin' house is up walkin' around tonight.
He'd come in here looking for a late night/early morning workout in peace and quiet, away from the rest of the general hubbub that was normal daily life in the land of communal living. Instead, he'd found what seemed like half the population of the damned house in the Danger Room at 4:00 am. Not exactly what he was expecting.
" 'Lo, 'Roro. Yer up late."
The exotic, white-haired woman turned to him briefly, her startlingly pale blue eyes peering out at him from a face the color of cafe-au-lait, as she nodded a greeting.
"Hello, Logan. What brings you in here at such an hour?"
"I could ask you the same question."
Ororo Munroe sighed, returning her attention to the wide glass front of the booth and the scene below.
"I could not sleep. I thought to perhaps run an exercise session, but it seems the room is already occupied."
"Yeah, insomnia seems to be makin' the rounds tonight. Had a touch of it myself. Seems like the Cat and the Russkie did too."
As he strolled over to stand beside her, observing the young woman below them, Storm turned to him, her face creased in fatigue and concern.
"I am worried about her, Logan."
The gruff Canadian didn't have to ask who or why. He knew. He had the same concerns.
He was silent for a moment, watching Kitty dance as if all the devils of hell were on her tail. Tonight, she danced like she fought, quick, hard, brutal. It wasn't right, it wasn't her.
Logan remembered the slim, teenage girl who used to, literally, dance on air, laughing and twirling gracefully, full of such passion for life, such spirit.
What had happened? When had the laughter died and the anger, the rage, taken over?
There was something there, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It had been bugging him for the last several weeks, every time he was around her, but it was so subtle it was eluding even his keen senses.
Almost. Something was different with Kitty. Eventually, he would discover what it was.
"I think we got reason to be. Somethin's not right with her. Everybody can see it."
"She is taking Moira's death much harder than I would have expected." Her face, her voice, betrayed no emotion what so ever, but inside she hurt. It was there, easily read in the depths of her crystal blue eyes with the barely discernible dark smudges of fatigue underneath. Others would miss it, but he knew this woman far too well, and for far too long, not to pick up on it. "Have you tried to speak with her?"
"Tried earlier today." he confirmed, leaning his hip against one of the consoles as he spoke. "She just brushed me off. Said she was fine, she could handle it. The kid ain't fine, 'Ro. I don't think she's been fine fer a while now."
Her eyes still glued to the rapidly moving figure in the Danger Room, she didn't turn her head as she spoke.
"She did the same to me. It is as if she's closed herself off from everyone, from her friends, her family. Trying to talk with her now...it is almost like talking to a stranger."
The short, dark-haired Canadian simply shrugged his shoulders, a conservative, barely perceptible movement of his stocky frame. His dark, nearly black eyes, narrowed as his sharp gaze continued to follow the young woman in the room below.
"Kit's lost more'n most o' the rest of us put together. Friends, lovers, family. Shit like that happens enough, it takes a toll." For a moment he turned to Ororo, his dark eyes intense, before his gaze moved pointedly to the large form of Peter Rasputin, standing in the shadows of the room below. "We've seen it happen before."
Ororo Munroe, Storm, shivered involuntarily as she followed the direction of his eyes. Not from cold, but from the memories that Logan's words invoked. Dark memories of a time when a man she considered as her own brother seemed to self-destruct before her eyes. Memories of watching helplessly as he turned his back on everyone and everything he'd ever believed in, nearly losing his mind, as well as his soul, in the process.
"Surely, Logan, you cannot think Kitty...?" Her voice trailed off uncertainly, as she shook her head, silver/white hair flying about her shoulders. "But she has always been so strong. Always so much stronger than Peter, stronger than so many of us. "
Wolverine snorted. To him, it sounded like Ororo was trying to convince herself as much as anyone. "Even the strongest link in the chain has a breakin' point, Darlin'."
"I cannot believe that she will not recover herself, that spark of light, and life, and love, that used to burn so brightly within her, given time and the love and support of her friends." The idea that the girl-no, Storm corrected herself, the young woman-she considered a surrogate daughter might not prove as resilient as always, might not continue to bounce back from every blow life dealt her, that she might, instead, be sliding gradually into some kind of breakdown, was more than the regal African woman could bear.
The girl was strong. Time and again, she had proven her strength, both figuratively and literally. She had come through worse and she would come through this. Ororo had to believe that. To believe otherwise would mean she had failed one of the people dearest to her heart.
Even in profile, Logan could see the emotions playing across Storm's face, could practically read her thoughts as they flew through her head.
Denial, it's not just a river in Egypt, he mused, somewhat uncharitably. Storm, he knew, wouldn't let herself see the truth. She was doing the same thing with Kit that she'd done with Peter. Ignore the problem and hope it'll go away. It hadn't worked then, it wouldn't work now.
He hadn't been around much when things really started going bad for Petey, had been too busy dealing with his own troubles to understand just how wrong things had gone, until it was far too late. That failure still rankled.
It would not happen to his Kit. He wouldn't let it. Despite what anyone else believed, Logan knew trouble was coming. He could practically smell it on the wind.
Let 'Ro think what she wanted, he knew the truth and, this time, he swore he'd be more prepared.
Deciding further discussion on Kitty's behavior would be pointless, Logan dropped the current topic and changed tack. "So, decided when yer bunch is pullin' out?"
With a sigh, Ororo turned her attention to Logan and away from Kitty. "Sometime after Moira's memorial service. Probably within the next week."
"What about the kids?" He jerked his head in the direction of the Danger Room and Ororo's gaze briefly followed before she shook her head slowly.
"No. Peter is not suited to what we will be doing, the type of life we will be living."
"And Kit? Ya can't tell me she's not suited to it. And I'd say her and Tessa'd make quite a pair. Hell, they already worked up those transmitter glasses, or whatever the hell ya call 'em."
But, again, Storm shook her head, looking slightly uncomfortable as her gaze slid back to the lithe form still pushing herself across the floor below.
"Perhaps, if things were different, but I believe Kitty is better off here for the moment. She needs time to let things settle." Her eyes automatically shifted to Peter, still leaning near the door, his own gaze never wavering from the young woman in the room with him. "Time to let her friends help her through this difficult time."
Logan saw where she was looking, knew what she was thinking, and briefly considered simply strangling the woman. Or at least cuffing her a good one to try and knock some sense into her. Or just laughing outright. Rasputin was the last person on earth to be giving anyone advice on personal problems.
"I ain't buyin' that, 'Ro. Ya damn well know better. It don't matter what you want for her, or what Petey wants for her. Chances are, it ain't gonna happen." He gestured broadly toward the room outside the control booth, his irritation getting the better of him. It was an old argument and high time, in his opinion, the stubborn woman gave it a rest. "They've had years on the same teams together, she gave him chance after chance and he threw 'em back in her face. Why should she give him another shot at breakin' her heart?"
As the feral Canadian practically growled out the words, Ororo Munroe drew herself up to her full height, clothing herself in a regal demeanor, pale blue eyes flashing sparks of irritation.
"I am well aware of Peter's past actions as, I assure you, is he," she stated icily. "But that should not necessarily mean he does not deserve another chance."
Crossing his arms over his chest, Logan leaned back against the console, legs crossed at the ankles, not saying a word, as she stared back at him defiantly. He wasn't going to give in, wasn't going to agree with her. Both of those kids were like family to him, but if they were gonna pick sides, he knew which one he'd be on.
None of the others had taken the pain of a broken-hearted fourteen year old girl seriously. Puppy love, they said. She'll get over it in short order. Yeah, well, she hadn't and it had been him, not any of the others, who'd gone after her in Japan, who'd seen what Ogun did to her, who'd watched her struggle and claw her way back from that living nightmare.
All of that, and more, Logan laid directly at Peter Rasputin's feet. He might be able to forgive the boy, put it down to the inexperience of youth and some really rough breaks, but that didn't mean he'd forget.
The silent contest of wills continued for several moments, neither willing to give in. Finally, it was Ororo who dropped her eyes, all the fight draining out of her as she pulled over a chair and sat down tiredly.
"Logan, I have neither the desire, nor the energy, to debate this with you, yet again. I doubt we will ever see eye to eye on the matter in any event."
"Fine with me, Darlin', but you still ain't answered my question. Why ain't you takin' Kit? Might be just the thing for her, get her away from here for a while, give her something to focus on besides this nut house."
Her eyes dropped for a moment, her brow furrowed, in thought or concern. He wasn't sure which.
"Very well." When she raised her head, Logan caught a variety of emotions flickering across her face. "Things between Kitty and I have been...strained...ever since Dallas. And, lately, it has only gotten worse. Some of her mood swings....They are almost frightening. I believe she needs to work through these problems before joining us on a quest that will surely result in only greater stress."
Wolverine's eyebrows shot up and he wondered what had happened between Kitty and Storm that he didn't know about. Something in her voice told him that there was more here than she was actually willing to talk about right now. Before he could question her further, the elegant weather mutant rose from her chair and headed for the door.
"Since it appears that the Danger Room will not be free for a while, I believe I will return to bed and at least try to get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us."
Without waiting for a reply, she left, closing the door softly behind her.
Logan turned back to cast one last glance at Kitty, seeing that she was slowing, moving into cool down exercises. She was just as tense, wound just as tight, as ever. Whatever was going on with her, he had a feeling she wasn't going to get rid of it with exercise.
Yer gonna have to talk about it sometime, Punkin' . I ain't gonna sit by and watch you fall apart. I'll get to the bottom of this if it's the last thing I do.
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