"Viper!" Ororo hissed the with as much venom as the name implied.
"Storm." The other woman strode forward, her harsh, attractive features revealed by the filtering light of the moon. One of Hydra's premier agents, master of both hand-to-hand and armed combat, Viper was a dangerous enemy. She was wearing her trademark leather and snakeskin getup, her green hair pulled back in a long braid. Her dark red lips were parted in a cruel smile. "Take your hands off my husband." She repeated, placing her hand on her hip, resting it on her holstered weapon in silent threat.
"Viper," Wolverine growled low and fierce, his arms tightening around Storm.
"What, lover? Afraid I may hurt the little witch?"
"Logan?" Ororo turned to him, disregarding Viper, her blue eyes narrowing. "What is this woman, and I use that term loosely, doing here?"
Logan glared at Viper. Damn her! God Damn her! He looked at Storm and his eyes reflected tormented sorrow. No! He couldn't have! He wouldn't have!
Ororo tried to pull away from him. "Liar." She accused. Viper thought she was talking to her and said, "Oh, no, Storm. I assure you we are very married." But Wolverine knew the word was meant for him.
"'Ro," he said, touching her cheek, his dark eyes black with emotion. He couldn't get anything out past her name though, his throat closing up.
"If I were you, Storm, I suggest you cover yourself, because from the commotion your little lightshow just caused, I'd say we're going to have company any second." Viper said. She stood casually, with feigned indifference to the exchange between Wolverine and Storm. However, her brown eyes narrowed on the woman cradled in Wolverine's arms, his stance screaming protectiveness.
For the first time Logan let his gaze wander down Ororo's naked form and he swore at what he saw. She was covered with lacerations and bruises, her body blistered in some places and rubbed raw in others. What in the fuck had she been through? He looked into her eyes, which were now orbs of solid white. She was retreating from him, he realized, seeking the cold...the ice of reservation and the safety of solitude. With a savage snarl he pulled her to him, wanting her to look at him. "'Ro…"
"What in de 'ell is going on down 'ere?"
Figures. Wolverine pulled Ororo closer despite her trying to pull away from him.
"Merde, Wolverine. If you and de bitch-bride wanna have a little firework show warn da rest of us first. Damn near jumped outta my--" Gambit's steps faltered. His red on black gaze disbelieving. "Stormy?"
Despite her confused state and rapidly building anger Ororo managed to smile with warm sincerity at her brother. "Do not call me that retched name." She whispered.
Gambit's knees gave way beneath him. Ororo tugged against Wolverine's grip and he let her go, knowing she would never forgive him for keeping her from Gambit. Ororo dropped to her knees and embraced Remy. "Ssshh," she soothed as he gasped for air. "I am here, Remy. Ssshh." He was muttering furiously under his breath and Ororo was only able to catch a few words, but they made her chuckle. "Gambit, are you praying?"
"Yes." He raised his hands to her burnt hair. "You look like hell, padnat."
"Funny you should mention it," she said, tone dry.
"Merde. Sorry, Stormy. You know me, open mouth-insert foot."
"Yes. Some things are blessedly always the same." She said, looking over at Logan, wondering if what Viper said was true. He hadn't corrected her, and his silent acquiesce weighed on her.
She was shivering she realized suddenly, her body too exhausted to ward off the chill in the night air. Gambit felt the small tremors running through her and swore, removing his duster and draping it over her shoulders. "Thanks." She wobbled slightly, her eyes drooping, but Wolverine was suddenly there, strong arms lifting her, cradling her to his chest like she were a child.
Ororo sighed, pressing her nose into the soft skin of his throat. Warm, musky cigar scent filed her nostrils and she felt tears prick her eyes. Home. That's what he was, he was her home. The place where her heart and soul resided. She brushed his skin softly with her lips. Safe. She closed her eyes.
Wolverine shuddered. His mind in chaos. 'Ro was home, back in his arms where she belonged. He pulled her closer, rubbing his stubbled chin along the top of her head. He could feel Viper glaring poisonous daggers into him, but he was just too damn raw to care.
"Could we move it along." Viper said as if she found this situation as interesting as a traffic jam on the interstate.
"We should get 'er to Jean," Gambit said, ignoring her.
"Yeah." Logan looked down at Storm, who was opening and closing her eyes drugedly. "We're takin' ya home now, 'Ro." He said into her hair. They began moving towards the mansion, Ororo cradled against his chest, Gambit clutching one of her limp hands and Viper trailing behind them, her mouth a thin line of contempt.
"Jeannie!" Wolverine hollered with his voice and mind, hoping to wake her up. "Jean!"
Logan, what in the wor--? Storm!
Yeah. She found her way home, Red.
On my way!
Med-Lab
"These look pretty bad, Storm," Jean said, rubbing an alcohol soaked pad along some of Ororo's deeper cuts. Jean had shifted straight into doctor mode upon seeing her best friend, stripping Gambit's jacket from Ororo and examining her. She had almost cried out at the injuries she saw under the duster, but she had refrained. There were just so many. Fresh ones, old ones and fading scars. Ororo never scarred and eventually these would be nothing more than a painful memory, but Jean was still taken aback.
"The Daemonites did not take kindly to me sending them back to Hell," was all Ororo responded with. She didn't want to think about that place, or the countless battles she had fought. Not any more.
"I can give you something for the pain. It'll make you sleepy but-"
"No!" Ororo jerked upright from her position on her stomach. "No sedatives." Her voice shook. She knew she was acting strange, but couldn't help herself. Two years in Hell had felt like a hundred and it would take her some time to get over it.
"Easy, darlin'." Logan took a step forward, reaching for her hand. He squeezed it reassuringly, his thumb grazing the ring she still wore, tearing at his heart. Ororo smiled at him tentatively. An uneasy tension lay between them, her unspoken question and his reluctant answer hanging in the air.
Jean rolled her stool to Ororo's side, saying, "The stitches won't hurt."
"I am ever confident in your skills," Ororo said with a quirk of her lips, but the humor didn't reach her eyes. She hissed in a breath when she felt the needle pierce her skin, but Logan took a seat right in front of her, his steady gaze never leaving hers. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, rubbed his hand along her hair.
After several minutes Jean snipped the final stitch. "Finished." Jean said as she rolled away.
Ororo shifted so that she was laying on her side, head cradled by the sterile white pillow of the med-lab bed. Logan shifted with her so that he remained in eye contact.
Jean pulled off her latex gloves with a snap and gave Wolverine a pointed look. "She's to rest. No disturbances."
Wolverine looked away from Jean's hard green gaze. He knew what she was referring to, and in fact he could smell Viper outside the lab in the hall. Viper. His lips curled in a semi-snarl. His wife.
Noticing the rigid set of Logan's shoulders Ororo asked, "What's wrong?"
Logan leaned forward, kissing her softly, lips lingering. "Yer home, darlin', what could possibly be wrong. Rest now. I'll be right here."
You're going to have to tell her eventually.
I know, Red. But not tonight. She doesn't need that shit right now.
You're absolutely right, Wolverine. She doesn't need that shit.
Logan flinched, guilt settling over him like a heavy blanket. He took in Ororo's resting profile and clenched his teeth. Fuck.
Ororo bolted upright, covered in sweat, panting. How long had she been out? She reached for her stone knife only to come up empty handed. She nearly panicked until she realized she was not surrounded by tortured screams and charred earth, but instead was sitting in a comfy bed, surrounded by medical equipment. Gambit was reclining in a chair in the corner of the room, head tilted, asleep. She smiled at him.
Where was Logan? She looked around the dim room but he wasn't there. She frowned. He said he would be here. Grunting, Ororo pushed herself off the bed, padding across the cool tiles, her bare feet making faint slapping sounds as she went. The doors slid open with a hiss, the sound jerking Gambit awake.
"Storm?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes. The bed was empty. Shit. He looked around the room, checking the bathroom. No Stormy. Shit. Shit. Shit. He knew where she was headed and he needed to stop her.
"Stormy?" He called stepping into the hall. The overhead lights flickered. Looking both ways Gambit could see no one. He moved quickly down the hall pushing the elevator button, knowing she would be taking the stairs, hoping to beat her to Wolverine. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Gambit shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently. It would serve Wolverine right if he let Stormy go to his room and see what he had done, but Gambit couldn't stand the idea of her being hurt anymore than she had been. Storm would learn the truth soon enough.
Ding. About damn time. He pushed the button for the second floor, mildly annoyed by the faint tinkering piano music playing overhead. He'd have to talk to Cyclops about that crap.
Once the elevator stopped he rushed from the sliding doors. He raced down the hall, feeling like he was moving in slow motion.
Storm heard someone call her name but ignored them. She turned the door knob to Logan's room, opening the door without knocking. Viper stood in the center of the room, glaring at her.
"I'd prefer it if you knocked on the door to my room," she said scathingly.
"I apologize I thought this was Logan's room." Maybe he'd moved rooms. Was he in her loft? She wondered. She didn't have to wonder long as the bathroom door adjacent to the bedroom swung open and Wolverine stepped out, one towel draped around his waist and another in his hands as he rubbed his thick hair.
"Stormy!" Gambit's voice came from the hall. He stood behind Ororo, his jaw tight. He placed one hand on her shoulder saying softly, "Some things have changed…"
"Viper? Who the fuck are you talking to?" He growled fiercely. What the hell was she still doing in his room. He had told her in no uncertain terms that she was to move her shit out. She had of course been furious, but he didn't give a damn. He'd honor his end of the deal, but their situation was different now that 'Ro was back.
Wolverine's head snapped around as he caught the scent of earth and rain, of nature purified. "'Ro." Logan swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. He couldn't find his voice, couldn't make a single sound. The pain on her face made his chest ache, every heartbeat a burden. He reached for her and she recoiled as if he had physically struck her. Ororo's gaze flicked over his wife, and though her chin remained high, when she blinked he saw a solitary tear slide down her cheek. "Let me explain," he began.
Ororo shook her head mutely. She swallowed hard, moistening dry lips. Unshed teardrops sparkled on her thick, dark lashes, forming damp spikes, making the ache in his chest spread throughout his entire body. "Good bye, Wolverine."
Everything he had ever wanted stood in front of him and he was about to lose it all. She stood frozen another moment, her eyes locked with his, her face bleak with pain and his heart crumbled in his chest.
Then without a word she closed the door softly, walking away from the only man she'd ever love. She could hear him making his way after her, and she just couldn't deal with it.
"Gambit…" her voice cracked on his name and Gambit's heart broke for her.
"No worries, petite." He looked at Rogue who was in the hallway now, having heard the commotion. She nodded her head in understanding. They were not to let Logan pass.
Ororo made it all the way up to her attic loft before she crumpled to the floor, enormous heaving sobs racking her body. The Daemonites hadn't managed it, two years in the foulest pits of hell hadn't done it, but this…this did it. Tonight Ororo Munroe died.
Storm raised her head to the heavens, the bright stars twinkling at her through the skylight, their beauty a savage mockery of her pain. Rivulets of tears slid down her face, descending down her neck. She rose to her feet, her mind in turmoil. How could he? How could he! How dare he!
Walking over to her dresser she snatched up the picture sitting atop it. It was one of her. She was standing by a Willow tree, it's roots sprawling from ground, wearing a long white dress, her hair blowing in the breeze. She remembered this picture. Logan had taken it the day after she had told him about making the roots grow. With a savage cry she hurled the image against the wall, glass breaking. That Ororo was long gone.
With brutal determination Storm picked up one of the shards of glass, headless to it gouging her palm. She bunched her charred hair in her hands and with angry satisfaction cut through the layers, watching it fall, blackened and bloody to the floor.
She threw open her closet, briefly noticing that nothing had been changed in her two year absence, pulling out her lavender and black uniform. No. She threw it aside. Reaching deep in the back of the closet she found her black leather pants and vest. Perfect.
Ororo. Jean could feel her rage, and tried to calm her.
Go away! Ororo slammed up a psychic barrier hard and fast.
In her room Jean Grey flinched. Oh, Logan, what have you done?
"Move it, Gumbo!" Wolverine snarled.
"Take it easy, homme. Stormy just need some time now."
"Get the fuck outta my way!" -SNIKT-
"Wolverine, calm down." Rogue said, moving to his left. If she could get close to him, maybe she could drain him enough to keep him from going after Storm. Picturing Ororo's heartbroken face Rogue found herself once again furious at Logan. How he could marry that venomous bitch was beyond her. He had told her he had his reasons, but as far as Rogue could see there wasn't anything that justified that.
"Listen to them, Wolverine," came the venomous bitch's voice from the bedroom. "Obviously the little girl needs to go lick her wounds."
Wolverine whirled on her, his face a mask of rage. He leapt at her, two adamantium claws framing her face, the third extended until it dimpled the soft flesh under her chin. "Shut. Up."
Viper's breathing increased, but not out of fear. She was aroused, Logan realized with disgust. He shoved her away. Viper laughed nastily from her position on the floor, but said nothing more.
Turning back to the hall Wolverine noticed Gambit had disappeared and only Rogue stood in his way. "Step aside, Rogue, I don't wanna hurtchya, but I will." He said deadly serious. He needed to get to Storm. "Rogue. Please."
Hating herself Rogue stepped aside. His eyes had been so tortured.
Logan took the stairs three at a time. "Sorry, Wolverine." Gambit was leaning against Ororo's bedroom door, glowing pink card between his index and middle fingers.
"Move."
Gambit straightened. "Da only way in is through me."
Less than half a second later Gambit's body crashed through the bedroom door, splintering the wood and knocking the hinges loose. Wolverine strode in through his makeshift doorway only to discover the room was empty. He looked up, noticing the open skylight. "No." he said aloud. A glimmer of white caught his eye and he turned, seeing for the first time the pile of sheared hair on the floor. He walked over to it, picking up one snowy lock. It curled softly around his blunt finger and he wanted to howl with loss.
"Wolverine." Jean stood in the broken doorway, worry written all over her face.
"What the hell, Jean. You said that sedative would keep her out all night!"
"She must've fought through it. Besides, I don't think her sleeping is your biggest issue."
Wolverine growled. "I know."
"I hope you give her better answers than you gave us," Jean said in quiet anger.
"If she'll let me." Logan said quietly.
Wolverine prowled the grounds restlessly, having emerged from the institute only moments ago, wearing hastily donned jeans and nothing more, frantic in his search for Storm. He raised his head, sniffing the air for the hundredth time, hoping to catch her scent, knowing she more than likely had taken to the air, preventing him from following her. "Where are ya, 'Ro?" He loped across the expansive yard, his heart heavy.
Storm landed softly, her feet moving soundlessly across the ground, her eyes steady on her target; A statue that she had spotted from the air, drawing her attention. It sat in the forefront of the X-Men burial sight.
It was an amazing likeness, she thought as she approached, staring at the marble image of herself. The statue had her head tilted, stone hair flowing behind it, arms behind her as she leapt for the sky, one knee bent the other leg stretched straight, supported by marble clouds. The engraving was bold and scrawled beautifully: Our Beloved Windrider, Lost But Not Forgotten.' And though emotionally jarring to see her own memorial, nothing could have prepared her for the name carved in the base of the statue: Ororo N'Dare Munroe Howlett.
Ororo knelt, running her fingers over the imbedded words, a sob catching in her throat.
"We figured it's what you would've wanted," came a hoarse drawl.
Ororo spun around, facing the man that she once believed loved her as much as she him, right up until he had crushed her heart. "It would have been," she said in seething anger.
Wolverine stepped forward, his bare chest still damp from his shower, water droplets sparkling in the moonlight. Ororo turned her head away, closing her eyes, unable to look at him standing there barefoot in jeans, so beautiful, so primal. A living breathing manifestation of nature was what he was, and she found that damn near impossible to resist. Always had.
"'Ro…" He stepped closer.
"Do not!" Her head snapped up, eyes flashing.
Logan growled in frustration. He needed her to listen, but knew that even when the truth was known, the pain wouldn't be any less, for either of them. "Dammit, 'Ro, just hear me out."
"Wolverine, go home. Go to your wife." Ororo nearly choked as that word left her mouth, but did not, instead forcing her emotions back inside, under the protective casing of ice and solitude.
Heedless of her sparking eyes Wolverine stepped forward, moving cautiously as one does when faced with a wounded animal, unsure of its actions. "Viper can wait."
Ororo gave a bitter laugh. "But apparently you could not."
Wolverine winced. "I thought you were dead, 'Ro," he defended weakly.
"I wasn't."
Wolverine did not miss the meaning of those two small words and he hated that he had brought her to this. "'Ro, please." He reached out, hand touching her stiff shoulder. He was immediately thrown several feet as a blast of icy wind knocked him aside.
"God damn it, Storm, listen to me!" Wolverine was angry now. All of his old hurt swelling to the surface. "You owe me that much! Let's not forget one simple truth in all this, Storm. You left me! You fuckin' left!" He was snarling now.
"Are you serious?" Ororo demanded incredulously. "I did that to save your life! I saw-" Her voice faltered as she remembered the images of her friends lying dead, gutted and being devoured that had flashed in her mind that fateful day so long ago. She regained herself quickly, however saying, " I saw what they were going to do! I felt it, Wolverine. They were going to use me to destroy the world! I had no choice!"
Wolverine growled at her. "You had a choice! You could have stayed with me!"
"I came back for you, you Pigheaded man!" She screamed the last on a wave of frustration and sorrow. "I always come back for you." That was whisper soft, but he heard it.
He said nothing, knowing the truth of that statement. He looked up at the sky, heaving a heavy sigh. God, how he loved her. He had to make her see.
"Go." Ororo said again, her rage washing away, leaving her empty inside.
"I ain't leavin' ya."
"You already have."
"Fuck. 'Ro, listen, about Viper…"
"Yes, what about Viper?" The woman in question strode towards them, her face grim. "Didn't forget about me, did you, husband?"
"Viper. Leave!" Wolverine snarled savagely.
"What and miss the show? I think not. Nice hair, Storm."
Crack! Viper went flying, sprawled out across the ground, her hand flying up to her bloody nose.
Wolverine stood stock still, amazed at the ferocity with which Ororo had just attacked Viper, soaring from across the distance separating them and landing a solid fist to the other woman's face.
"Bitch!" Viper screeched, pulling her gun from her holster. Immediately Wolverine leapt in front of Ororo, claws extending. A hurricane gale flung him aside, leaving Ororo an open target for Viper, her eyes glowing white.
"Make it count," Ororo hissed.
"Merde! Stormy!" Gambit came crashing through the underbrush, followed by an anxious looking Jean and Scott. He sent a card flying into Viper's lap, causing the Hydra to roll away, or be left sporting some fancy scars.
"Storm!" Jean was breathing rapidly. "Come on, sweety, come home." She placed her hand on Ororo's arm. "Come on."
Ororo hesitated. Jean tugged a bit on her hand. "All right." Storm cast one last look over her shoulder at the scene behind her. Gambit was pointing and laughing at Viper, who was struggling to right herself, tangled in a bird ox bush and Wolverine was slowly rising to his feet, his gaze steady on her. His eyes were dark and determined.
Not tonight. Jean sent to him.
Love ya, Jeannie, but fuck off.
Sensing his grim determination Jean sent, Fine, but let me talk to her first.
"Wolverine, I t'ink your wife could use a hand," Gambit said, strolling away from the cussing woman, picking up her gun as he went, charging it and melting it down.
Once back inside the Institute Jean lead Storm to the kitchen, shooing the others away mentally, saying, "I don't know about you, but I could use a drink."
"Something hard," was Ororo's response, and Jean laughed. She sent Scott upstairs to get a couple of blankets, knowing she and Ororo would be taking for awhile.
Once they had their drinks and were both wrapped in warm blankets on the couch in the living room Jean said, "I missed you."
Ororo smiled. "I missed you as well, my sister."
Jean took a drink, coughing a bit as the scotch burned it's way down her throat. No use not talking about the elephant in the room, she mused. "He doesn't love her." .
Ororo said nothing and for a moment Jean wondered if she'd even heard her. Then, "He married her."
Jean nodded. "None of us really know why. But it most definitely is not a love match. He can barely stand her."
"He married her." Ororo said, repeating that one irrefutable point.
Jean sighed, running one hand along the underside of her head, rustling her flame colored hair. "We could talk about something else. How did you get home?"
Ororo shrugged. "I found a slipstream portal inside a volcano, then I jumped in, and ta-da, here I am."
"Oh my." Jean noticed the haunted look in Ororo's eyes and wondered once again what kind of hell Ororo endured. She leaned closer, touching her fingers to the sides of Ororo's head, asking, "Do you mind?"
"Do not, Jean, you do not know what it is you ask."
"Please." Jean said, not knowing why, but needing to know what it was like for her friend for the past two years.
Ororo closed her eyes. "Not too far in," she warned.
Jean concentrated, skimming over the surface of Ororo's mind then finding what she sought. Darkness, fear, screams, rage, and then the imagery appeared, horrific and monstrous, worse than any nightmare she had ever had, and more terrifying than anything she could have imagined. Demonic. Pure Evil. Jean let go with a gasp, turning and retching on to the floor.
"I am sorry," Ororo said, reaching for her.
Jean shook her head, tears sliding down her face, stomach still rolling. "My God," she cried. "Oh, my God, Ororo I can't…I don't… Ohhh."
"It is all right, Jean." Storm stroked her hair.
"Jeannie?" Wolverine stood a few feet away, a beer in his hand, watching them.
Jean looked at Storm with watery eyes, worn out from her brief exploration of Ororo's memories. Two years of that? How was she sane? But Jean knew the answer to that as well, having picked it up while inside Ororo's mind. Logan. Thoughts of Logan were all Ororo had had to keep her company in that pit. All that kept her moving forward, never giving up hope that she would one day be reunited with him.
"Talk to him." She recommended before shakily leaving the room to get a towel.
Ororo stared at Logan and her heart broke. He was staring at her like he was lost and she was the only person who knew the way home. "A walk?" She suggested surprising him.
"A walk would be…" he didn't know how to finish that. What? Nice? Lovely? Swell? Necessary?
Ororo stood, dropping the blanket from her shoulders. "Shall we."
Logan set his bottle on the entertainment stand, following her out to the porch. "Let's walk by the lake," he said.
Surprising him again, Ororo nodded. "The lake is as good a place as any, I guess."
They walked for several minutes, their usual comfortable silence strained. "'Ro. I thought you were dead," he began, voice hesitant.
"So you have mentioned," she countered.
"Listen." He gruffed. "I was lost for a long time, darlin'. I had no direction without you. I took several missions outside of the X-Men. Trying to get away, to sort it all out. Hell, I don't know…Anyway, one of these missions took me back to Madripoor."
The island of Madripoor was a frequent haunt of Logan's. An island filled with the most eclectic and socially diverse people one could hope to meet. It was crawling with the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor. Ruled by a harsh leader their was often turmoil and unrest. Logan had quite the reputation on Madripoor, as Patch, one of his alias. He was a renowned fighter and the winner of several Bloodsport competitions. He was also joint owner of the Princess Bar.
"Go on." Ororo said when he didn't continue.
Wolverine took a deep breath, kicking some loose dirt with his toe. "While I was down there, Sabertooth showed up and attacked the bar to get to me. It was a bad fight, 'Ro. I was still distraught over what he had done ta you. In the end we were both pretty fucked up, but I was a little worse for wear, considering the friends he had brought with him and their arsenal of weapons. I was pretty much done for. But then Viper showed up, and she got me home. In return for rescuing me, Viper asked if I'd marry her. I had to accept 'Ro, Viper had saved my life. It's giri at it's most fundamental."
Storm had stopped walking, her gaze looking out over the dark waters of the lake. "So you married her out of your Japanese code of honor?"
"Yes."
"But you do not love her?"
Logan came up behind her and turned her to face him. "No, I do not love her." He stared into her eyes.
Ororo swallowed. "Was…was the marriage consummated?"
Logan looked away.
"I see." Storm took a step away from him.
"Please, 'Ro. Don't walk away from me. From us."
"Wolverine, you are married. There is very little of 'us' to walk away from."
Suddenly she was in his arms, yanked against him savagely as his mouth claimed hers. A sound of protest formed in her throat, but changed with the feeling of his lips, his familiar, loved scent filling her head and the sound that came out was more like a moan.
"Ah, God, 'Ro." He breathed against her lips. His grip lessened, his lips softened and the kiss became loving, tender. "Can you really walk away from this, " he whispered, his breath fanning her neck, followed by the moist caress of his lips. His pulled her closer, murmuring her name, tongue tantalizing her ear.
Ororo felt herself melting against him, her hands clinging to his shoulders, knees weak. Goddess, how she had dreamed of this. Countless hours, endless days. She was shaking, tears filling her eyes. He kissed the saline trails from her cheeks, kissed her nose, her eyes, her mouth, all the while telling her he loved her. Loved her. Only her. And that's when she broke away.
"Stop." She raised trembling fingers to her lips. "I can not do this, Logan."
At least he was back to Logan and not the impersonal Wolverine he thought as he took a ragged breath.
"You have your code of honor to follow, Logan and I respect that. But I have a code of honor as well, and I can not be with you. You are married."
"Damn it, 'Ro. It ain't even a real marriage."
Storm veiled her eyes briefly with dark lashes, when she looked up again he was staring into orbs of white. "So long as you are married to that…person, we can not be together."
"Don't." His voice broke. "I'll beg if you want me to, 'Ro. I swear I will." He dropped to his knees.
Oh, Goddess give her strength. "Do not." She pulled at him, his willingness to shed his pride for her killing her. "It will not change what is."
Wolverine rose, his jaw clenched tight, fighting against the tears. "What will you do?" he asked.
Ororo remained quiet for a long time, then, "I will not be leaving the X-Men. So long as the dream remains the same, then my place is here. I will do as I have always done, Wolverine. I will survive."
