Chapter 15: Tensions
The light coming from between the gaping boards of the barn walls was enough for Ororo to see by as she went to her knees and started searching the barn floor for what she knew was there. Beside her, she heard the click of Logan's lighter as he lit up a cigar, then took a deep sniff as he returned the lighter to his pocket. "Hmm," he mused, mostly to himself.
Ororo's sensitive fingers found the tiny, almost unnoticeable seam in the floor of the barn. Slipping her fingers into a crack, she began to pry the cement block up from its home, grunting a little with the effort. "What is it, Logan? Has the sky decided to fall while I was not paying attention?"
Logan grunted. "Nah. Strange scents, unfamiliar noises, Tell ya, 'Ro, I don't like these newcomers one bit. They stink of trouble."
Her fingers finally got a grip on the underside of the block. "It is a wonder you can smell anything aside from the fetor of that cigar."
Logan snorted humorlessly. "Ah, says you."
Ororo said severely, "Logan, we must give our visitors the benefit of the doubt and trust the instincts of our fellows while they gather their bearings. Is that not what the X-Men is all about?"
Logan grinned. "Sure. That's why yer so jazzed 'bout bone girl shackin' up in the basement, right? It musta just slipped your mind to roll out the red carpet for her." He watched Ororo's eyes go white with anger, but he couldn't resist needling her a little more. "Tough t' turn the other cheek when it's yer cheek doin' the turnin', huh?"
Ororo got all stiff and formal, like she always did when she got angry. "You are a fresh little man, Logan. Leave me. I do not need your help." There she goes again, slippin' inta that 'goddess' role like she used ta. At least she ain't supressin' her feelin's. Not like someone else I know. "Course ya don't but I'm a pip t'have around." He slid his claws out then plunged them into the dirt underneath. "An I won't mess up my manicure…" He suddenly sensed someone else's presence; he also knew who it had to be. "Ain't that right, Jeannie?" He looked up. Sure enough…
In the doorway Jean gave Logan a sidelong exasperated look. "Now wait a second. I know for a fact that I'm downwind from you two, so your hyper-senses couldn't have sniffed me out, and I floated across the ground so there was no noise. How did you know I was here, Logan?"
Logan shrugged. "Some things a man just knows, Red."
Logan's tense. I can feel him practically bursting at the seams. He doesn't want me to leave, though he'd die before he'd admit it. Jean looked searchingly at him for a moment, then filed that thought away as she stepped into the barn. To cover the suddenly awkward silence, Logan said gruffly, "You need a ride to the airport?"
Jean shrugged noncommittally. "No, thanks. We've got it covered."
"Sure." Logan said flatly.
Jean went over and looked curiously at the hole in the floor. "What are you two doing?"
"We are trying to determine what we have left in the way of assets—" Ororo began.
Logan interrupted. "Aside from 'Ro's celebrated sense o' humor, o' course."
Ororo blew out her breath in an exasperated whuff. "You are standing dangerously close to my last nerve, Logan." She pried the last obstacle to her objective out of the floor, and Jean and Logan both looked in.
'Your tiara?" That was the first thing Jean saw. Then the slim little metal tools that she didn't recognize at first. "What is all…" and then something else that drove all other thoughts clean out of her head. "Oh my. Are those real?"
Ororo's voice was tinged with not a little satisfaction as she said, "As real…and as rare…as the day I liberated them from their former owner."
Lock picks. Hidden treasure. A sobering reminder that as well as we think we may know our teammate, she's still a woman who plays it close to the vest. Jean tried not to let any of her feelings show on her face as she watched Ororo slip the tiara back on over her silver locks, but the statuesque African woman must have seen something. "Old habits die hard, Jean. No matter how much one trusts her adopted family. The adept thief divides her equipment and her lucre between multiple locations for extreme times such as these." She knelt to scoop the coins from their hiding place.
"Preciate your generosity, 'Ro," Logan said gruffly, feeling a little bad about how he'd needled her earlier, "but as soon as we hock that coin I'd shove the green right back under your mattress. With all the refugees floatin' around the mansion, you don't know who you can trust."
Jean looked at Logan in concern. "Are you really that concerned about our guests, Logan?"
Logan looked peculiar for just a moment, then said rather loudly, "I ain't worried for myself, Jeannie. 'Cause at the end of the day they ain't got nuthin' I can't handle…ain't that right, gang?" He addressed someone standing behind her, and Jean whirled. Cecelia, Maggott, and Sam stood behind the three.
"Oh…" Jean breathed, too low for anyone but Logan to hear.
Sam broke the awkward silence. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, y'all. We were just headin' inta town…wanted to see if anyone wanted to join us. Anyone? Please?" he added in a hopeful tone of voice, like a kid hoping to entice a grownup into a game that otherwise might not be allowed.
"Ag, you folks really know how to make an oke feel wanted…" Maggott looked at the three X-Men, frowning a little.
Sam looked slightly sheepish. "Scott thought givin' these guys a little tour of Salem Center would be a bondin' exercise." Then, a little lower, "Guess who got volunteered t'head the glee club…"
Hands on her hips, Ororo said quietly, "Has everyone been briefed on the protocols regarding excursions into town, Samuel?"
Maggott piped up. "Aye, Captain, Ma'am, Sir! We're all hip to proper X-Men away team etiquette! Struesbob!"
Logan ground out through gritted teeth, "That include not givin' lip t'yer superiors, pal?" He didn't like the tone this smart-ass was taking with Ororo…and he really didn't like the way said smart-ass was eyeing Ororo up.
"Ag. No, sir, must have missed that when distracted by the robust aroma of that Ashton the gentleman is puffing, sir!"
Logan growled, baring his teeth just a little. "Heh. Cute. Kid's a real charmer, Sam. Better watch out or ya might start t'like him."
Cecelia spoke for the first time, obviously a little uncomfortable with the tension in the barn. "Look, all I want is a cup of coffee. A real cup. Not that sludge Drake made this morning. If town is where the java is, then I'm there ten minutes ago. I'll read the protocols when I get back."
Jean had it with this tension. "Hold on, Cecelia. No need for the attitude. We just need everyone to be careful—"
A new voice, sounding distinctly like bone grating against bone, spoke. "She's right, healer—" There was a swishing sound, and Marrow dropped from the barn ceiling to the floor. Jean's lips tightened. She sucks the air out of the barn faster than I can process whose speaking. She regards us with the same eyes a cat stalks a canary with, scowling down her snout at playthings and her prey. If Scott would just look into those eyes, he'd cancel our tickets in a heartbeat.
Marrow was still speaking. "We're nasty, dangerous mutants—might get it in our heads to put the scaries into the good taxpayers of Westchester County." She let go of the rope. "You forgot to invite me on your little field trip, Sammy. I'm hurt." Her voice dripped sarcasm.
Sam protested. "No, I didn't forget you---uh, what I mean is---we don't have the holographic projectors, and—"
Orro placed a hand on Sam's shoulder as she stepped forward. "You are not free to roam outside the grounds, Marrow. Period. That is a privilege you will have to earn."
Marrow sneered. "I see, Bright One. Keep the uglies hidden in the tunnels where they won't offend. Let the pretty ones roam. What if I decide it's my right to go where I choose? What're you going to do then? Kill me?"
Jean sent a telepathic tendril into Ororo's mind. She's trying to bait you in front of the others, Ororo. Don't play her games. Don't give in to anger.
Thank you for the telepathic coaching, Jean, but I am quite capable of dealing with this…child. Aloud, she said, "Pay close attention, miscreant. I will only say this once. You will not—"
Maggott interrupted. "Ag, hey. Marrow, right? I didn't really want to spend thisarvie with Gomer Pyle, anyhows. What do you say I hang back and we compare sob stories?"
Marrow responded with her usual abrasiveness. "Pity. How noble of you." She lashed out with a hand, striking him across the face. He grunted. "Save it for the Wind Rider, slug. She's the one who's going to need it." And with that the hostile woman walked off.
Maggott looked after her. "You coulda just said no, thank you," he muttered.
Logan looked at Ororo quickly. She was rigid with anger, her eyes whited out. He said tentatively, "'Ro? She ruffle yer feathers, darlin'?"
As if in answer, there was a rumble of thunder and then the distinctive sound of lightning striking the roof of the barn. Then Ororo stalked off. Shortly thereafter, Sam, Cecelia, and Maggott, somewhat subdued, left the barn, leaving Jean and Logan alone. Logan took a last drag on his cigar. "One big happy family. Think they got any extra seats on that plane o' yers, Red?"
Jean sighed. "I'm not sure we should leave anymore either, Logan. But Scott and I need some time off…and he's not going to get any better with all the tension and worry around here."
Logan turned to face her. "Then ya do what ya gotta do, Jeannie. 'Ro an' I can handle things here. She ain't quite the leader Scott is, but we can handle things till ya get back." He looked at the mansion as they started walking toward it through a small stand of trees. "Y'know, I guess what bugs me is that Jubes is up there, sleepin' through all this now, but when she finally feels well enuff ta come an' join us, she's gonna be confused as hell with all these new people around."
Jean shook her head briskly. "That's what I was coming to tell you. Emma said she was sending a car for Jubilee this afternoon and a charter plane will take her the rest of the way to Massachusetts. You won't have to worry about her after she leaves."
Logan stopped walking. "Didja get a chance ta talk to her?"
Jean nodded slowly. "I talked Jubilee into letting Cecelia check her over before we both went down to the kitchen for breakfast. She says physically Jubilee will be all right; with time, and rest, she'll be fine. She didn't suffer any lasting damage...at least, not that we can tell without the medical equipment we had before." She sighed. "What I wouldn't give for all of our stuff back…"
"So Jubilee's okay physically. What about mentally?" Logan asked.
Jean hesitated, wondering how much she should tell Logan; wondering how much he'd guessed, and where she should draw the line before she betrayed Jubilee's confidence. "She'll be okay," she said finally.
Logan sensed the hesitation. "What happened?" his voice was soft.
"I walked into her room in the middle of a nightmare. I tried to wake her, but she was so lost in the dream…I touched her shoulder and she acted as though I'd hit her." Jean stared at the tree, looking but not really seeing it. "She's…she's been tortured, Logan. The images I saw in her mind—they were terrible. Horrible. Obscene. Bastion called us monsters. What should we call him, who could do such things…to a child?" her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands for a moment.
Logan stepped close enough to wrap his arms around her. "Easy, Jeannie. It's okay. Jubes made it outta there, she's with us now, an' even Sean and Emma ain't gonna be so damn stupid as to let someone kidnap her again."
For just a moment Jean allowed herself to remain in Logan's arms. He was so different from Scott… She loved Scott, but she loved Logan too. That love had diminished over the years from the romantic flame she'd once had to the love of a dear, true friend, but there were times like this when she thought about the 'road not traveled'…with difficulty she pulled herself together and stepped out of his arms, leaving him leaning against the tree. "She wanted to stay here, but I told her it would be better to go back to school. With all the stuff that's been happening around here, all the new faces, it's better for her emotionally to go back to school, be with her friends and people her own age. Maybe she'll feel more comfortable talking to a friend her own age than a grownup. Even you." She saw the hurt flash behind Logan's eyes. "Logan, for all her love and trust for you, you're still male. It's going to take her a while to work through the conflicting feelings she's bound to have after her—after what happened."
Logan sighed. "It's just hard, Jean. After what happened...it's hard not ta wanna hang onta her an' never let her go. She was in there for a long time, Jean. An' I never knew. I feel like I've let her down. I promised ta always watch over her an' protect her an' I failed."
"If it's any consolation, Logan, she feels like she failed too," Jean said. "Bastion asked her for the location of the mansion. She refused. He tried to break her by feeding her illusions of us; then when that failed, he tried drugging her. Then he mixed the drugs with physical pain and r—" Jean stopped short.
Logan's lips thinned out in a straight line. "Rape. That's what you were going to say, Jean. Isn't it?"
Jean's expression was all the answer he needed. Logan gritted his teeth, tried to keep the anger in check, but the rage was too strong. He whirled, his claws popping out, and drove his claws up to his knuckles in the trunk of the tree. It felt good; he imagined that it was Bastion, and started to pound his fists into the tree, feeling his knuckles bruise, the skin splitting and healing and splitting again. His anguish was obvious.
Jean winced at the marks Logan was leaving on the tree, and the blood on his knuckles. "Logan, please, it's going to be—"
"Don't, Jean!" Logan was really angry, but it wasn't the sort of anger that provoked his berserker rage. It was a hopeless anger, borne of guilt and anguish that he hadn't been able to help Jubilee, hadn't been there when she needed him, as she had been there so often for him. "Don't try ta tell me not ta get mad. Don't tell me it's all gonna be okay. 'Cause it ain't. It can't. Jubilee's lost somethin' she shouldn't'a lost, cause I wasn't there ta protect her like I promised!" He drove his claws into the tree one last time, then pulled out and sank to the ground at the foot of the tree. The tree wasn't Bastion. The tree hadn't hurt Jubilee. He shouldn't hurt the tree. Ororo would get upset at the wanton destruction of an inoffensive piece of nature. "I wasn't there. I promised her I'd take care o' her when we started hangin' out all that while ago an' I wasn't there. I failed her." He raked a hand through his hair. "Why'd it have to be her, Jeannie? Why? Why couldn't it have been anybody else? Anybody else! Not my happy little, gutsy little Jubilee—"
Jean knelt next to him. "I don't know, Logan. God only knows. But it happened, and seeing you this angry isn't going to do Jubilee any good. Please." She brushed her hand gently over his and gave him a brief hug, then, sensing he would rather be alone, she rose to her feet. "I have to check on Scott. Remember, Logan, nothing we could have done would have altered anything that happened. Don't beat yourself up over it." And she was gone.
Logan slumped at the base of the tree, feeling guilt settle over him like a lead blanket. No matter what Jean said, it was his fault. His fault for not being there for her. His fault for not protecting her like he'd promised her. And because of his inattention, she had suffered something he couldn't even imagine. Sighing, he tipped his head back, letting it rest against the tree. "Why, God?" he asked the silent sky above him. "Why her? Why'd it have to be her?"
No answer was forthcoming. Well, it wasn't like he'd actually expected one. He was probably the last person God wanted to talk to. Climbing to his feet, he trudged off in the direction of the mansion.
End notes:
Material for this chapter came from X-Men #71. Only the parts leading up to Logan's conversation with Jubilee are Marvel's: the rest are mine. All blame should be sent this way, not theirs!
The next few chapters are going to have pretty much nothing to do with any comic issue; it's going to be pure fiction in my part. If you're still out there reading this, hang in there, it's almost done!
Stay tuned!
