Dreamscape
The X-Men do not belong to me.
Thanks to AlexL for her valuable input and her polishing of the rough stuff I sent her. Graeme (in RL) for style tips. Megalictis for tapping my wrists about canonical errors I had made. Any errors left are mine, and mine alone.
Jubilation Lee leaned back against the large elm tree in the center of the courtyard in front of the mansion and watched the moths and fireflies dance in the cooling air of the summer evening. She contemplated psyching out the fireflies with lights from her fingers, but kept her hands in her lap, having decided that she was too old for games of that nature.
She had matured a great deal in the four-and-a-half years since her capture by Stryker's soldiers, her rescue by the X-Men and the loss of her surrogate mother, Jean Grey. Nearly finished her studies at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Jubilee had been recently granted Alpha status. She felt a little nervous about being placed on a team, but so far, all was quiet on that front. It appeared that summer was a slow time for missions. Too hot, perhaps, for people to get into or start making trouble.
Jubilee sat outside for a while, and then pondered going inside for a work-out in the Danger room. Her leather uniform still needed a lot of work to be broken-in. She stood, brushed off the back of her cut-off shorts and made her way to the mansion. Her long raven hair swung behind her, and she reached for it with a slender hand. The small Asian woman fished in her pocket for a bobby-pin, found two, then twisted and fastened her hair up into a tight knot.
Winding her way through small herds of mutant children, she walked the length of the school. She jogged down the stairs to Sub-Basement Two and into the women's change room to put her new uniform on. She then gave her voice recognition command and gained access into the control booth, but was stymied when she found someone else using the exercise space.
Ororo Munroe and Logan were sitting cross legged, facing each other, on a computer simulated mountain side. Unlike most training sessions, the two of them were wearing their street clothing. The snow-capped peaks looked frigid, but Jubilee knew that they did not feel the apparent cold – only a room temperature, dehumidified, draft-free environment. She looked down at the control panel and mischievously considered altering their weather settings, but resisted this temptation when she realized that Wolverine and Storm were meditating.
This could take hours, she thought, but was proven wrong when, almost immediately, the two senior X-Men rose to their feet and began the slow synchronized movements of Tai Chi.
Jubilee was mesmerized by the grace with which they moved, and gazed at them in awe. Time seemed to stop as she followed their gestures and steps. Arms up, across, down, circling. Finally, they ceased and stood silently for a moment, and then Logan embraced Ororo. Jubilee smirked behind the one-way glass of the control booth and thought, About time! Most of the students had placed wagers as to when the two would finally become a couple. It hadn't happened yet, but it looked like Angelo's wager was going to be the winner. Jubilee punched the switch that controlled the sound and eavesdropped on Logan telling Ororo how proud he was of her. They broke apart as Ororo replied with her own happiness about finally completely learning the Long Form.
Jubilee decided not to listen in anymore, as their conversation made no sense to her, anyway. She pressed another button on the panel in front of her and spoke lightly into the mike. "You guys done?"
Logan looked up as the holographic mountain dissolved into a flurry of pixels and vanished. Smiling at the sound of his student's voice, he waved up at the control room. "Yeah. You slated to be in here next?"
"No. No-one is scheduled. Thought I'd get some practice time, though. Break-in the leather."
"Want company?" Logan called up as he watched Ororo grab a towel from one of the lockers and head for the ladies shower room.
Jubilee considered, but before she could answer, Professor Xavier's voice spoke into both their heads, summoning them to the Ready Room.
Within a few minutes, Storm joined them, already in uniform, and folded herself into a chair as Professor X. began his briefing about a mutant terrorist.
"It has been difficult to communicate with this mutant; He – or she, as I am no longer certain of its gender… I'll call it, for convenience's sake, a "him" – he has an ability to block me out… quite literally with a wall, as that is all my mind's eye sees as I attempt to telepathically connect with him."
Logan looked around at the empty chairs in the room and interrupted Xavier before he could go any further. "You're not sending a full team out?"
"No. This mutant has been threatening a small village. He has, simply speaking, vampiric or parasitic qualities, and has been feeding on innocent people."
"Ewww." Jubilation looked revolted.
"He hasn't been sucking blood, but emotions. As far as I have been able to tell, he has the ability to create situations in his victims' minds to bring about strong emotions – fear, anger, depression…" Xavier trailed off and shook his head before continuing, "I am hesitant to send a full team out for fear that this mutant would play everyone against each other. I also believe that you three are the least susceptible to becoming ensnared in a mind game."
Logan smirked. "You callin' us thick-skulled, there, Chuck?"
Xavier laughed. "No, Wolverine, just strong-willed." He grew serious again. "Please use extreme caution. This is a very powerful mutant with no qualms about taking lives."
"He has killed?" Ororo's eyebrows shot up.
"Yes, sadly. Imagine being trapped in a frightening scenario for days or weeks at a time! Many of his victims have gone insane, and many more have died from exhaustion," he paused, "or suicide." He lapsed into silence for a moment, letting his X-Men consider these facts before providing them with the logistic details of the mission at hand. "I've programmed the Blackbird with co-ordinates. You're in for a long flight. Cerebro's information on this individual has been uploaded to the Blackbird – more details await you on board.
"Be careful. I expect this mutant to be safely detained and brought to me. Remember, though, that this mutant, if given the chance, would gladly take your lives, as he has taken many others. If needs must, take his life first. But let us hope that that will not be necessary. Good luck."
With that, he rolled back from the table, dismissing the team. As he left, Jubilee slapped Logan on the shoulder and rose to her feet.
"Well, if it's gonna be a long flight, I'm going to grab my books while you suit up." She disappeared out the door.
"Books?"
Ororo smiled. "She's got an English Literature course coming up, and has been studying. I'm glad to see that she's taken an interest in bettering her academic self, especially this early in the season."
"She's a good kid." Logan made his way to the cabinets to grab one of his uniforms.
"Yes," Ororo said and turned around as Logan stripped his tee-shirt off. She could feel his grin on her back. "There was a time that I thought she might be lost, though."
"How do you mean?"
"Everyone at the school was upset when Jean… left us." Ororo said gently, "but Jubilee took it very hard. Blamed herself. Jean was like a mother to Jubilee. She's an orphan, you know."
Logan bristled. Of course he had known that Jubilee's parents had been victims of an erroneous mob hit. "Yeah," he said stiffly.
"She has taken other… surrogates, if you will." Ororo paused as she heard his jeans and belt hit the concrete floor. She felt her cheeks warm. She forced a lightness into her words. "You're one of them."
"Me?" He shrugged his uniform on. "I always thought it was a…" he trailed off.
"A what?" Ororo asked.
"You know," he said rather sheepishly. "A crush."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? A young girl infatuated with you?" Ororo's comment stung him.
"No. I prefer the more mature woman." To cover his discomfort, he strode in front of her and waggled his eyebrows.
She gave him a skeptical look, but then smiled. "Yeah, right. Anyway, I'm certain that Jubilee sees you as a father figure more than anything."
"So?"
"It's a good thing- something that she really needs."
"Why me? Why not Scott? Or Chuck?"
"Jubilee has always been rebellious – why not you? Her choosing you as her mentor makes the least sense. That's probably why she's drawn to you."
"Ah. Reverse psychology," Logan chuckled.
"Something like that. The two of you share a rebellious spirit that neither Scott nor the Prefessor can relate to."
Ororo laughed up at him as they approached the Blackbird. A cacophony of footfalls approached and Jubilee darted into the underground hangar, her book bag hanging askew and a thick textbook in her arms. Together, they boarded the jet, each thinking about the mission.
Jubilee opened her thick textbook once she had clicked her seat belt into place. It's spine squashed her thigh, given the voluminous weight of the book, yet she didn't notice. She wasn't immersed in reading it. Her thoughts strayed from her academics and focused on this villain she was going to face. Phrases rang in her head – "thick-skulled", "extreme caution", "parasitic qualities" and other choice words. She stared into space for a bit, and then shook herself out of her reverie. As apprehensive as she was, Jubilee was determined to help those people that were trapped! In an attempt to fend off her apprehension, she bent her head to her textbook.
Twenty minutes and a 35,000 foot ascension later, Logan set the auto-pilot and glanced over at Ororo in the co-pilot's seat. She was using the opportunity the flight provided to take a brief power-nap. Logan tended to forget that because he healed so much faster, he didn't need recovery time after a work-out in the Danger Room, while his teammates did. He turned and looked more closely at her, then snuck a glance back at Jubilee. She had her nose buried in her text, paying absolutely no attention to anything outside her head. Logan considered, and then resisted the impulse to reach over and caress Ororo's soft brown cheek.
"Of course it isn't frozen! We're well south of the permafrost, and it's the beginning of August!" Logan smirked at Jubilee, who cried out in surprise when she stepped out of the high-tech jet into a bog and sank up to her shins in moss and slimy water.
"I just figured that Canada equals snow! Can you blame me?" Jubilee snarled as she jerked her foot out of the water. The three picked their way to more solid ground. Bare trees loomed around them in the dim evening light. Logan lifted his head, scenting the air. There was a faint smell… there! No, gone. His nostrils flared as he tried to identify and track the odors of the crisp evening air. The scent of rabbit, the odor of Labrador tea and all of the other smells associated with a bog presented themselves readily to his enhanced olfactory, but there was only the faintest smell of people.
Jubilee stared at the blackened bark of the foliage that surrounded them. "Why are all of these trees dead?"
"Probably a forest fire, long ago. Why don't you give us a little light, Jubilee, and we'll take a look?" Logan suggested. Jubilee shrugged and summoned her fireworks. Plasma lights formed at Jubilee's fingertips, and the three looked around the clearing they landed in. It was nearly barren. Colourful blasts illuminated the area, and Jubilee made a face – their surroundings were desolate. There were in the midst of a dead forest. She thought it looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. A few trees were alive, but they were very small – only coming to waist-height. This forest went on for as far as they could see in all directions.
"I thought there was a village here," Jubilee said, but at that moment, she spotted a person making their way through the charred tree trunks. "There's somebody!"
Logan cut a limb from one of the dead trees and held it out to Jubilee, who immediately knew what he was thinking, and lit the end, making a torch. Logan held it up to illuminate the area and to shed light on the approaching figure.
A small woman picked her way out through the brambles towards them. Logan squinted in the light and tried to make out her features, but they weren't clear. He assumed that it was one of the villagers until Jubilee screamed behind him and bolted forward.
"Mom! Hey, Mom! Mommy?" Jubilee's voice seemed to grow smaller. Logan could hear the years vanishing in her words. The approaching figure stopped. Logan could now discern her traits, and saw that this person did indeed resemble Jubilee. However, the woman's countenance was unstable and flickering – all soft edges and blurry features.
"Why aren't you answering me? Mommy?" The woman turned away and Jubilee began to cry. "Did I make you mad? I'm sorry!" she wailed, her chest hitching. "Come back!" The woman began to walk away, and Jubilation collapsed onto the broken ground, sobbing.
Wolverine dropped the torch as he and Storm rushed over to her. She didn't seem to notice them, even when Ororo began to rock her in her arms. Ororo's eyes met Logan's as she said "I don't think we have to look for our subject anymore."
"He found us first." Logan grimly finished her thought. "How long do you think - ?"
"Probably since our approach and descent."
At this, Jubilee looked up with red-rimmed eyes. She seemed not to see Ororo, but stared past her. Logan followed her gaze and was astounded to see the pristine grounds of the school. This vision seemed to expand, flowing around them, transforming the desolate scrubland into a courtyard and picture-perfect toy forest. The elms stood tall, slightly swaying in the evening wind. Lanterns cast a soft warm yellow light on the numerous walking paths while spotlamps trained on the mansion bathed the friezes and the main entrance with cool white-blue light.
Jubilee moved out of Ororo's grasp, stood and began to follow one of the paths to the mansion. She did not respond to her teammates entreaties to stop. She wasn't moving quickly, or evading them, but when they caught up with her, Jubilee's face was vacant of any indication that anything was amiss. It was as if she was simply a girl out for a nice evening stroll.
Logan heard the low strumming sound of an approaching helicopter at the same time that Jubilee did. She leapt into action, tearing towards the mansion, shouting, fireworks blazing from her fingertips.
When Ororo and Logan caught up to Jubilee again, they could see flames flickering in the windows of the mansion. It was at that moment Logan heard a familiar voice that made the hairs on his neck bristle. Though he couldn't see him, Logan could hear Colonel Stryker, shouting orders to his black-clad soldiers. They smashed through the windows, and the students streamed out of the doors and secret tunnels. Artillery fire could be heard above the landing helicopters' engines whining and rotors thumping, but above the noise and chaos, both Ororo and Logan could hear Jubilee's cry; a cry of agony, anger and fear.
"No!" But she wasn't looking at the forces storming the school, but the figures that they soon noticed in the clearing dangling from a scaffold. Most of the X-Men were hanged there, their faces frozen with terrified and tortured expressions. Their bodies swung and turned in the brisk wind. Beneath the gallows was an overturned wheelchair. A headless corpse, readily recognizable as Professor Xavier's, lay a few feet away. Meanwhile, as an eerie backdrop to this grisly scene, the fire in the mansion burned unnaturally fast, leaving the school a charred husk.
Ororo looked up at the row of dead X-Men, and back at Jubilee, whose tears streamed silently down ash-stained cheeks. She felt dismay that the younger woman would be fooled by this charade, but the weather goddess peered up at the closest of the murdered X-Men. Logan's face looked back down at her, purple with strangulation. Whirling back to the girl, Ororo grabbed her. "Jubilee, look at me!" Storm shook the girl's shoulders. Jubilee's eyes focused.
"Oh, Storm! What are we going to do?" She was crying again. "Professor Xavier is dead! The school is gone –" Her voice was choked with tears. "I couldn't save anyone! They're all dead!"
"No. Look over here. No-one is dead! Logan!" Ororo beckoned to him to come closer. "Wolvie's right here! Look!" Storm, using a long-forgotten nickname of Jubilee's for Logan, turned Jubilee's face to him while wiping her tears. "This is just an illusion! A charade! Remember!"
Jubilee stared at Wolverine, and her eyes seemed to come more into focus. As they did, the smoky orange sky above the mansion faded, to be replaced with the black starry night of the north. Jubilee fell to the broken ground again, trembling, but relieved.
"What the hell was that?" Logan asked from behind Ororo.
"The Professor said that this mutant preys on people using their fears. That was one of Jubilation's." Ororo ceased stroking the young woman's hair and stood. They contemplated their situation until Wolverine broke the silence.
"What's your fear, 'Ro?" Logan stared intently. Ororo blinked, hesitating.
"I-" She bit her lip before continuing, "I was buried alive as a girl. I can not tolerate closed spaces."
"Claustrophobia." Logan nodded. "Right. I knew that."
"What's your fear, Wolvie?" A small voice asked. Jubilation, slowly recovering, looked up from her seated position on the broken ground.
Logan crouched down to her and said in a quiet but wry voice, "Not having beer in the fridge."
Jubilee crinkled her nose before bursting into laughter. Ororo groaned and cast her eyes to the heavens as if beseeching her Goddess to spare her from these mere mortals. She turned around and asked urgently, "Where's the Blackbird?"
"It was right there – that clearing," Logan grimly said.
"Great. Stuck here. Wherever here is," Jubilee muttered. "Unless this guy's playing with out heads, and the 'Bird - and the village- are both really right there, and we can't see 'em."
"Shall I lift the winds and do an aerial recon?"
"You can try, but I have the feelin' you won't get far, 'Ro, if he's screwin' with our minds. We pro'lly won't even be able to walk out of here."
"I propose we try to make our way back to the jet and - "
"And what? Turn tail and run?" Logan growled.
"I didn't say that," Ororo said firmly. "What help are we if we, too, are trapped here?"
"You can go. I'll stay," he said, "I'll try an' figure another way out of this."
"First things first," Jubilee cut in. "Can we get back to the Blackbird?"
Ororo, using the winds, floated herself above the bog to where they had landed. There was nothing there; no evidence of their jet, and nothing happened when she spoke the voice command to disable its cloaking device. She hung her head as she finished a rudimentary search of the area and came up with nothing. She halted the wind and felt herself sink into the bog. She slogged back to the higher ground, feeling ashamed for some reason. Perhaps she was only embarrassed that her plan did not pan out.
She called up the wind again, and flew straight up.
Logan had been right. Ororo hit a ceiling not too far above the tree tops, and was unable to fly any higher. She was extremely unsettled as she landed beside her two teammates.
Wolverine grunted a greeting Ororo rejoined them, then extruded a claw and began to cut thin strips off of a dead tree limb for kindling. Jubilee stood idly by, waiting to start the fire. The evening had grown colder as it progressed into true darkness.
"Hey, Wolvie, you think we'll see a bear?"
He looked up from his wood shaving and frowned. "Why? You afraid of bears?" he asked incredulously.
"No, I just want to see one sometime."
Logan made quick work of another limb. Then he set the branches above the kindling in a log house pattern. Jubilee extended her hands above the logs and soon they were blazing. Logan continued their conversation. "You may get your wish unless this coward shows himself and I get a chance to show him his worst fear." Three of his claws shot out as he concluded his sentence. A feral grin touched his lips to add to the effect.
"He is a coward, and therefore, will not show himself," a voice said.
Jubilee whirled around. Logan turned much more slowly, having smelled the newcomer. A boy of no more than fourteen years old stood before them. He wore blue jeans and an over-sized jersey with the Nashville Predators logo emblazoned on the front. On his feet were leather moccasins, and around his neck hung multiple pendants and amulets strung on strips of leather. The boy's skin was a light café au lait shade, which contrasted with his snow-coloured hair.
"Who are you?" Ororo demanded.
"I am Uvulugiaq." Their ears heard another language, but their minds understood what was being said. The boy smiled and the three pictured a sky filled with stars. "Starlight, in your language. I am the one who called for help."
"You?"
"Yes. Since I discovered that I can send my spirit out to others, I have been searching for people to help us."
"Telepathy," Ororo murmured.
Uvulugiaq smiled again. "Like your mentor, the man in the wheeled chair. Tartok found out I was looking for help, and put me here… what I think of as…" Again, the X-men found an image in their heads – barred windows and doors.
"Maximum security," Jubilee said.
"What can you tell us of the person who is keeping you here?" Ororo asked.
"I have been kept away from my sister and the rest of our town for six months, since I contacted the police. But the policemen who drove out here were no match for my older brother, Tartok. They have been trapped here ever since. I can only assume that because the police are not looking for their officers, that Tartok has done something to make them believe that those officers never existed in the minds of their commanders and families." He shuddered, but continued. "It is only when Tartok sleeps that I can move about – he knows that I can cause trouble for him, you see. He believes, (or believed, until you arrived), that I am permanently trapped in this mind prison, unable to move or be seen, and certainly not able to contact the outside world. But, one night last week, Tartok slept more deeply than usual, and I was able to send my spirit out and I found who you call "Professor"."
"So we can see you now because he is asleep?" Ororo asked.
"I believe so. Like after a large meal, he is heavy and sedated. His mind is not focused on me – us."
"Where is the village?"
"Right here. My people may not be able to see us, and we cannot see them, but they are there, cowed into remaining here. Hopeless."
"Some help we are," Logan muttered.
"You haven't given up yet. Your mind is still working on strategy. I can see it." Uvulugiaq's hand went to his temple, and he smiled knowingly.
"Do you not know English?" Ororo asked.
"No, only Inuktituit. I hope you don't mind my spirit and thoughts in your heads…"
An owl's loud hooting interrupted him. He hooted back, and began to speaking in his native tongue to an individual invisible to the gazes of the X-men.
After a brief conversation, Uvulugiaq returned his attention to the trio that stared quizzically at him. "My apologies. My neighbour; He is checking to see if I am alright and that Tartok is truly asleep," he explained. "I told him about you three being here to help. When my brother sleeps, life returns to my home-" An outburst of voices speaking the Inuit language startled them all. A pounding drum beat began, and shortly after, the voices began to laugh and sing.
Uvulugiaq smiled absently. "At night, they come out to play. When Tartok is awake, we try to hide all emotion. Night-time, though, is when we share songs and tales and laugh and live!"
"They sound pretty lively," Logan said.
"Forgive us, but now that you are here, Tartok will leave us alone for a while. We are stale bread and dried meat to him. You are a feast! A sad thing, but they are happy for a reprieve from being preyed upon."
Jubilee paled. "I don't ever want to go through that again."
Ororo put her arm around her.
"I wish Professor Xavier was here," Jubilee said as she plopped herself down beside the fire.
"Why did he not come? I was expecting him," Uvulugiaq said.
Ororo explained, "He co-ordinates and sends many teams out to help different people all over the world. He also works on the public aspects of his school. If he were to personally attend to every threat, he wouldn't be able to achieve as much as his X-Men do."
"I see."
"But if he were here now," Jubilee put in, "he could fry this guy's synapses, and we could all go home."
"'Fry his synapses'?" Ororo questioned. "Why in the world would you assume he could do that?"
"'Cause he threatened me with it once. I was thirteen and he caught me rollerblading on the hardwood floor."
Ororo laughed. "I remember that. You gouged it up quite a bit."
"I don't think he was as mad about that as he was at my audacity in asking why he could wheel around the mansion, and I couldn't."
The X-Men shared a laugh. Ororo met Logan's gaze across the fire before self-consciously looking away. Jubilee contemplated for a bit, then shot a few fireworks up into the sky to test their cage's strength. She watched as they hit the bounds of their confinement and scattered outwards. She tried sending them out along the ground, too, and was foiled. Uvulugiaq watched them somewhat disinterestedly and hummed softly. The beat stopped suddenly, and the X-men soon heard their guide's voice in their head again, telling them that a song was requested.
"We've been trapped here with very little perception of the outside world. If you don't mind, my village would like to learn a new song – one from far away. I'm afraid my younger sister is really clamouring for one. Do you hear her? The high-pitched voice?"
Logan nodded, and in a moment, the others could discern a young girl's voice babbling stridently.
"I have one," Ororo said abruptly, surprising herself with this admission. "It is from very far away: the desert sands of the Middle East. Shall I sing it?"
Uvulugiaq shouted out to the others in his native tongue and their voices rose excitedly in response. The answer to her question was obviously "yes".
The woman known as Storm composed herself for a moment, and then began to sing. Logan watched her from across the fire, gazing at the light and shadows the flames that flickered across her solemn face. He was glad that he was seated as she sang, for although he knew she had a lovely speaking voice, the beautiful tones of her song probably would have made him weak in the knees. He sat, spellbound, as her lyrics washed over him.
"Leiley ya einy ya lei."
Ororo sang this lilting phrase over and over. When she stopped, the silence was sudden. No-one stirred until Jubilee softly asked what it meant.
At the instant that Ororo opened her mouth to answer, all of the villagers' voices rose in one chorus, flawlessly repeating the line of her song. She was so moved that she did not notice the tears that gathered on her lashes and fell.
Bowing her head, the weather goddess stifled her emotions before addressing Jubilee's question. "It does not translate to English easily, but it means something along the lines of "I can not sleep because of the images in my mind's eye"." Again, as she said this, she looked up and met Logan's stare for a brief time before flicking her glance away.
"It's very beautiful, Ororo," Logan said softly.
The rest of that night passed in contemplative silence. Logan continued to feed the fire with small branches he cut from the charred trees. He stared into the flames as Jubilee dozed beside him. Ororo sat to his right, absorbed in her own thoughts. Hours passed and the sun crept above the horizon slowly.
As the sun rose, Jubilee noticed a flickering out of the corner of her eye. It seemed that their 'prison' was being renewed or reinforced. She sat up to peer around at the same time that Uvulugiaq's voice urgently spoke into their heads.
"Tartok awakes! Good luck! I hope that you –" But whatever he hoped for them was cut off as he glimmered and vanished before their eyes.
"You still haven't told us what your fear is, Logan," Jubilee whispered as the three X-Men scrambled to their feet and stood back-to-back, peering around the forest with guarded expressions.
He merely grunted. Jubilee opened her mouth to protest this lack of answer when Ororo murmured, "Are those trees getting closer?"
Logan watched the charred trunks without noticing any movement, but as he blinked, more brush and trees appeared. The trees seemed inimical. He decided to be proactive. "Okay, Jubilee, let's go." He extended his claws, and proceeded to cut down as many trees as he could.
Jubilee followed his lead, her plasmoids flashing as she demolished trunk after trunk. Storm stood in the exact middle of the small clearing, peering around her at the destruction. She sighed in relief as the trees fell, but then, as Logan and Jubilee got farther and farther from her, trees began to spring up directly around her, shooting high into the sky. She was caged.
She couldn't help it; a scream issued itself from her lips. "No!" The weather goddess summoned the wind to lift herself from the confinement.
A menacing voice spoke to her. "I can easily convince you that you have no weather control… see?" The wind beneath Ororo abruptly ceased, and she fell back to the ground amidst the trees.
"Tartok! Stop this! You must stop!" she shouted.
"Why?" In a deliberate, chilling tone that made her skin crawl, Tartok seemed content to continue his terrorizing. "Fear tastes so wonderful! Anger is remarkable! Despair has a wonderful tang! And lust- !"
Thought she could not see him, Ororo felt his grin and she grimaced. The trees around her swelled to close her in completely, and she shrieked in utter terror. Caught up in her fear, she watched through a small gap in the rough trunks as Logan ran towards her. "Help! Logan! Please! I can't-!" she choked, "I can't breathe!"
"Relax, 'Ro. This is all a mind game," Logan said. "Just breathe easy, we'll get you out. Jubilee!" he called to his protegee, "Keep blastin' those trees! Don't let anymore close in around us!"
"Please, Logan!" Storm keened.
"Breathe slowly. Those trees aren't real!"
She screamed and flinched back as his hand came though the middle of a tree trunk. She recognized it and grabbed it. "Get me out of here!"
"Move your hand up my arm. You'll come out. These trees are just in your mind."
Whimpering, she slid her hand up his forearm. But when she reached where his flesh protruded from the bark, her fingers met the rough wood. "No! Oh, no!" She began to sob wordlessly.
"'Ro!" Both of his hands came though the trees and held her face. "Focus! This is in your mind!" he roared at her. "Tai Chi! Third Form! Now!"
"Wh- what?"
"Unite your mind and body! Your body will be free if your mind is! Now! Embrace Tiger and Return to Mountain!"
Her eyes cleared as she searched her memory for the appropriate movements. She concentrated; she felt the earth beneath her feet, bent her knees slightly and began the soft rhythmic breathing of the martial art. She swept her arms out and up, and straightened up as she assumed the proper stance for the next movement.
"Grasp Swallow's Tail," Logan murmured as her fingers extended beyond her prison. "Single Whip, now. Good! Step out, Ororo," he said quietly, and she slowly walked out of the trees.
She saw her teammates beaming at her. She breathed the fresh air and sighed. "Thank-you, Logan! I am in your debt."
"No problem, princess." He grinned at her.
"Did you hear him? While I was in there?"
"Tartok?" Jubilee, surprised, asked.
"Yes. He is here somewhere, or he is able to project his voice."
"He spoke with you?"
"Yes. He is completely unrepentant-" She broke off, and all three heard his baleful snarl.
"You cannot get away from me! Who do you think you are?"
"You sound like a snot-nosed kid who's lost a basketball game! Why not show yourself, if you're such a big man?" Logan growled into the open as the trees flickered around them and returned to normal. His claws shot out.
"You!" Ororo's hands flew to her temples as Tartok invaded her head again. "If you're going to merge your mind and body, I'll have to run your body, then, instead of mind and emotion." He laughed coldly, and then spoke smugly. "It's funny how they're all connected. I've found another fear of yours. I'll turn your body against you, and show him what you think of him," he threatened.
Ororo felt her face drain of all colour, knowing full well what this monster was talking about. "No! Please! No!"
"Years you've spent lusting! I told you how much I enjoy lust! With a pleasant taste of fear with it! What will he do if he finds out? Let's find out!"
Ororo felt her mind being flung away as if it was a scrap of meat being fed to a lion. She felt herself hit the ground. She remained on all fours, staring at the lichen and moss growing between the sparse patches of grass, gasping.
"Storm! Are you okay?" Jubilee ran forward and crouched beside her. "What happened?"
She gulped down air and tried to control herself. "Please, get him away from me!" she gasped. "Get Logan away from me!"
Jubilee's eyes widened and she staggered to her feet. She had never seen her normally oh-so-cool-and-composed teacher disheveled and frightened like this, but she did immediately what Ororo asked. "Wolvie!" she called "Let's go. That'a way." She pointed away from Storm, who stared resolutely at the ground.
Logan turned away from the women, confused. What the hell just happened? His nostrils flared, and he caught a scent on the breeze. Animal desire. Lust in its purest form. His jaw twitched and he peered back over his shoulder. Storm looked up at that moment from the earth and, from behind her wild hair, met his eye. He heard her groan and saw her hands clench in the moss, tearing it up. She rocked back on her knees to sit on her heels and put her palms to her eyes, blocking out any view. Jubilee touched her shoulder and felt the muscles tense.
"Ororo?" she asked, tentatively.
"No, no, no, no…" Storm moaned, "Oh, Goddess!" Her attempts to restrain herself crumbled. She stood and threw herself at Wolverine.
She panted and moaned as her mouth met his lips, his cheek, his ear. She pressed herself against him, and her fingernails dug gouges into the leather on the back of his uniform. Then her hands caressed his neck and found his hair. She pulled at it as she gasped "Oh – How I want you!"
Logan's reason returned after a short debate with himself and he began to attempt to control her hands. He held them tightly in front of her, but he found it difficult to stay coherent as the woman of his desires was telling him how badly she needed him and went on to describe the things that she wanted to do with him. His jaw set and he squeezed her hands.
"'Ro, this isn't you. I need you to focus!" His concentration was interrupted as she relaxed her hands in his. The tension left his grip for fear that he was hurting her. She used this opportunity to slip out of his grasp, grab his wrists and place his hands on her breasts. Her lips met his again. Her teeth cut his lip, and he hissed in the sudden pain. Her tongue pushed into his mouth. As he pulled away, she moaned again and nipped at him.
"Hey, Wolvie," Jubilee called from behind Ororo. She sounded amused. "D'you want me to paff her butt?"
"No! You're not helping! How do we stop this?" he gasped.
"I don't think we can." Jubilee watched with raised eyebrows the normally reserved Ororo do some things that were not at all reserved. "We'll have to wait it out."
"I can't wait this out! No man could!" Logan shouted as Ororo wrapped one of her long legs around his hips.
At that moment, they heard a whispering in their heads; a murmur of pleasure and satiety. Ororo fell to the earth again. Her hair obscured her face. Logan pushed it back and looked at her closely. Storm bit back a sob and covered her eyes with her hands again, in an almost obscene parody of her earlier positioning. She leaned forward and wept. Jubilee touched Logan's shoulder, and nodded him away. She sat with Ororo, whispering. Logan took a last look and turned away. Uvulugiaq reappeared abruptly and seemed embarrassed, looking no-one in the eye. Apparently, had witnessed what had transpired. "I am sorry. Tartok has no respect for anyone. But he has never lost consciousness so quickly! I may be able to send my spirit out – Shall I go to your Professor?"
Jubilee sat on the hummocky ground beside Storm and waited until her crying subsided.
"You okay?"
"No. I am humiliated," Ororo choked out.
"Nah. C'mon! There's gotta be something that's more embarrassing…" Jubilee cast her mind around to think of a humorous anecdote to relax Storm. "What was humiliating was that time that Bobby fell asleep on the couch in the rec room with his pants undone, and we posed him with a pair of Kitty's lacy panties, took pictures and posted them online."
Jubilee's babble worked to distract Ororo.
"Why in the world was Bobby sleeping on the couch with his pants undone?" She was outraged. Jubilee grinned.
"It was after Thanksgiving dinner," she clarified.
Ororo smirked ruefully. "I feel like I've been Thanksgiving dinner, and …" Realization dawned in her eyes. "Tartok has passed out!"
"Hopefully, though, not with his pants open!"
"Jubilee!" She leapt up and seized the younger woman's hands. "We have to stuff him! Bloat him! Fill him up! The villagers, Uvulugiaq said, hide their emotions! Uvulugiaq must tell them to express emotion!"
"Well, he's right there! Tell him yourself!"
The women rushed to Uvulugiaq and Logan. The Inuk was seated, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape. Logan stood by, watching.
"He's sent his spirit out to the Professor."
"We think we may have figured a way to get out of here," Jubilee began, but was cut off.
"No. Don't say anything yet," Logan demanded. "If he's going to go for my mind next, I'd better not hear it, 'cause that's the first thing he's gonna see. All I need to do is keep him occupied, right?"
"Yeah," Jubilee said.
"We'll have to wait until he's ready to feast again. He may not wake up for hours."
Jubilee settled herself on a lichen-coated rock. "We can wait," she said, determinedly.
An hour or so later, Uvulugiaq returned. His eyes were watery and bloodshot, and he looked exhausted. "I have never done that for so long before. I must sleep now." And pressing the heels of his hands to his temples, he lay back and closed his eyes. Jubilee raised her eyebrow at the Inuk's abruptness, and looked up in order to exchange a look with Logan, but he was gone. She peered around and found him. Logan was at one end of their 'prison', Ororo at the other; they were both stolidly staring in different directions.
Jubilee sighed irritably, wishing that if she was going to be left alone and bored, that she could at least have her books to study some more, but they were stuck inside the Blackbird. Instead, she tested the walls of their mind-prison again with her multi-coloured fireworks again. Aiming at the sky, she practiced different shapes and colours until she tired. Meanwhile, the two senior teammates were occupying themselves in different ways and quite separate from each other. Logan had been doing meditation and the slow movements of Tai Chi. Ororo was still silent on the other side of their enclosure.
Jubilee sighed again. Uvulugiaq stirred and sat up with a groan.
"Hi."
"Hey," Jubilee said. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged. "I am alright."
"We think we know how to get out of here."
"Yes, I've seen your plan already." Uvulugiaq smiled. "You think it will work. I knew you would be able to help."
Jubilee shook her head. "Don't say that 'til we're out of here."
"Would you like me to tell to others what needs to be done?"
Jubilee nodded, and expected the boy to speak to his friends. However, she remembered that, with his older brother unconscious, that he could relay the information telepathically.
They sat quietly for a while, watching Logan gracefully complete his martial arts exercises.
Then a question crossed Jubilee's mind. "What would you think of moving to New York? You could come to our school."
Uvulugiaq thought for a moment before answering. "No. I couldn't leave my family."
"Your sister would be welcome, too," Jubilee said, smiling.
"My family is the whole village," he told her. "I couldn't leave them behind."
Jubilee's eyes widened. "Oh," she quietly said.
"Here." Uvulugiaq fumbled with something at the nape of his neck. Shyly, he handed to her a necklace. "When I first saw you all, you were asking about bears. Now you will remember me by this."
Strung on the leather cord was a bear claw.
"Thank-you!" Jubilee grinned at the boy and tied the gift around her neck. "I wouldn't forget you, with or without this." She looked closely at the claw and felt the sharp point. The sky suddenly seemed to grow darker, and Uvulugiaq uttered a half of a syllable before abruptly vanishing. Ororo shouted in surprise and leapt to her feet. Jubilee moved closer to her.
"I guess he's awake. Well, Wolvie," Jubilee said, "I think that now would be the time to tell us what your fear is."
"Hush, Jubilation." Ororo silenced her, the tension more than apparent in her voice.
Logan remained in his cross-legged pose, seemingly meditating, but both women were not fooled since they could see the sudden clenching of his jaw and the sheen of sweat that appeared on his brow. They watched him tense his shoulders and arms as he fought Tartok's intrusion.
Ororo pulled Jubilee closer to her. "Wolverine has long been afraid of his own bestial nature. He fears that he may be lost in it forever– an unthinking, raging animal," she whispered. Jubilee looked up at Storm, horror-struck. With wide eyes, she turned her gaze to Logan, who was holding his head in his hands. She broke away from Storm's grasp and ran over to him.
"Jubilee! No! He may lose control completely!" Ororo cried out.
"He needs my help!" Jubilee knelt before him. She stared at her friend. "He can't go through that alone! I'm here, Wolvie. I'll help you." She caressed his hair, which she noticed was unexpectedly long and tangled.
He issued a thin moan, and lifted his head. Jubilee started and gasped at what she saw. His eyes, normally a gold-flecked green, were a cat-like yellow, wild and staring. His nostrils flared and he moaned again, in obvious pain.
"I'm here." Jubilee held his hands. "I'll get you through this."
Logan gasped and threw his head back. His groaning changed pitch, turning it into a whimper, as his canine teeth began to enlarge. He panted and growled, fighting this transformation. He looked down at Jubilee.
"Keep talkin' to me, Jubes!" he said, thickly, through clenched teeth.
"Okay." She squeezed his hands. She began to speak, a stream of consciousness, without structure or forethought. "Um, you know that I'm goin' to university… Did you know that Peter is going, too? He's taking art! Can you imagine that big brute of a guy studying art? And Bobby's taking accounting! What a laugh! There's another unlikely scenario! I guess me taking literature studies is also kind of… uh, incongruous, too. I'm sort of wondering if I should go. I've been thinking about it, and I would feel bad to leave the Institute. I would miss everyone there. I don't know what I would do without Blue to talk to, or you to play pool with, or… yeah, I don't know if I could go for very long without having some of Ororo's special barley stew… that's a really good comfort food…"
Ororo let the young woman's babble wash over her. She could hear Logan panting. Anger flooded her, white-hot. How dare this boy subject people to such horror? She looked back at Wolverine and Jubilee. Her eyes narrowed when Logan tore his hands away from the girl's, and her hands flew to her ears when he unleashed a howl that chilled her blood. Ororo watched Jubilee jerk away as six adamantium claws unsheathed themselves. Shuddering, her anger a hot coal in the pit of her stomach, Storm whirled around. Striding quickly to the edge of their prison, she allowed herself to accept this coal which would become her weapon. She fed this anger, remembering the tears of agony on Jubilee's cheeks, remembering both her own breathless fear and her body's betrayal. Storm reached out a hand, feeling the limit of their freedom. Leaning on it, she unleashed her fury.
"How dare you!" she shrieked. "What gives you the right to do this! Answer me!" She continued shouting, concentrating on uncoiling her anger, pushing it out to distract their captor.
Nothing happened. Logan still moaned, and Ororo could hear the small voice of Jubilee talking to him. She yelled again. "Stop this, Tartok! You've neither right nor reason to do this! Stop it!" She could feel her breath rasping in and out of her throat, which had become raw and sore. She was an instant away from dismay when she heard a shrill voice yelling with her. More joined in, different voices, many words that she could not understand. The anger in them, though, was unmistakable. The prison walls, which had been invisible, shimmered in a prism of colour. Now, Ororo could feel it dissolving under her hand. She stepped out of their bounds, still letting her hot anger pour out, but added to it another emotion – one that she thought Tartok hadn't seen in his victims for a very long time. Hope.
For one of the first times in her life, Jubilation Lee was speechless. She'd prattled on and on about different events and things that mattered in her world. As she did, she could see Logan's eyes losing what humanity they'd held. She could see the flat, unthinking look he sometimes got when he was deep in a rage. She had no more stories to tell him about the latest movie she and Marie had seen, about the time she had lived for several months alone in a shopping mall, about the time he had stolen Scott's motorcycle and taken her for a thrilling ride into town… She was out of stories, and when he pulled from her grasp and let loose that bone-chilling howl, her mind went blank. She gaped at her friend for a moment, then began to speak again, by rote, the only thing she could think of: the poem she'd spent weeks studying and memorizing for her college course on English Literature.
"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste," she murmured and grasped his hands again, pulling him back to the ground.
"Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe-" Jubilee continued, and stared into Logan's eyes, which were flickering from the wild-cat yellow to his normal green-with-gold and back. His jaws clenched, but his panting seemed to subside as she continued with her poem.
Ororo stumbled out of their prison, and was shocked at the sight; a perfectly normal village. The bungalows on either side of the neat gravel road were well-kept, with carraganna bushes lining each yard. She could see the tail of Blackbird poking from behind one of the duplex houses. Peering behind her, she saw a mob of people surrounding one of the homes further up the road, and as she approached, a young man was forcibly pulled from the doorway. Ororo looked at the boy and saw his resemblance to Uvulugiaq. They'd definitely shared the same parents. However, while the younger Uvulugiaq had a shock of white hair much like her own, Tartok's was jet black. He appeared to be at least three years older than his brother. She watched as he staggered away from the crowd of people, his long ponytail swinging behind him. He was bleeding from a long gash along his left cheek, and his green t-shirt was torn from the brutality of the mob. As he struggled to stand up straight, the crowd seemed to lunge for him again. Tartok fixed Storm with a dark look, apparently mustering concentration.
Ororo yelled out in anger, pushing her emotions at him, and at the same time, tried to build up sufficient wind and cloud so that she could take an offensive stance should it become necessary. Uvulugiaq flickered in and out of existence as his brother fought for control. The villagers continued their shouting, creating a deafening clamour and sufficiently distracting the young man that had kept them captive for so long. The clouds were slow in building, but the wind was picking up, whipping grit around. In response, Tartok bowed his head against the blowing sand.
Ororo approached him. "Tartok! You must stop this!" Power crackled in the command, and Tartok looked up, holding his hands to his temples.
"No!" he growled. "They're mine! Their fear is mine!" His voice was cold and rough.
"You've no right to do this! I'm telling you for the final time: Stop!" she yelled furiously.
He snarled and made an expansive grabbing gesture. Storm heard Wolverine wail again behind her.
"-And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:" Jubilee said, with growing emotion, as she held Logan's hands. His humanity was back. He smiled at her as she continued her recitation.
"Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end."
She smiled up at him; the rhyming couplet at the end of this famous sonnet was her favourite.
"That was beautiful, kid. You learned that really well."
"Thanks, Wolvie," she said nonchalantly. "Willie Shakes is pretty good, when you get past all of that 'thee', 'thou', 'to be or not to be', foreign language stuff."
Wolverine stood up and marveled that Jubilee would refer to William Shakespeare with a nickname as goofy as 'Willie Shakes'. He scanned the area for Storm and realized that their mind prison was gone. He could see a mob formed at the far end of the village, and began running, with Jubilee just behind him. As he drew near, Wolverine could feel a presence in his head again, and before he could do anything, he was plunged again into the red-hot world he feared the most. A scream escaped his lips, and his claws extruded themselves again.
He could smell everything in that instant– the caribou herd that had passed through fifty kilometers away, the hare beneath that honeysuckle bush, the ladyslipper flowers that grew wildly beyond the village. He could hear televisions humming, an irritating buzzing in his ears. There was a highway not too far away; he could hear that, too. The yelling of the people in front of him was almost too much to bear. He wanted them to stop. He could make them stop. His hands itched. He wanted to use his claws. Rend and tear. He would make them stop. He would use his claws. His shoulders twitched. He could see every small movement each person made. Why were they so loud? But something stopped him. The sudden odour of ozone. Wolverine dropped to the ground as the world flashed white.
It happened without conscious thought - something she'd been trying for years to do in the safe confines of the Danger Room. Lightning flashed down from out of the still mostly blue sky, striking the young man that had held them prisoner. The weather goddess known as Storm was thrown with the force of the blast. Her body smashed into the wall of a house, and she fell, limp, into the yard.
When she awoke, Ororo Munroe was greeted by a girl who had to be Uvulugiaq's little sister. Her facial features weren't quite the same, but her hair was a bright blue, cut into a sweet little bob. Ororo noticed then that she was in a soft bed in a tiny bedroom. Judging by the pink curtains and abundance of habituated Barbie dolls, she correctly assumed that this was the little girl's bedroom.
The girl began to yell as soon as she saw that Ororo was awake. Before Ororo could say anything, Uvulugiaq entered the room, followed by Ororo's teammates.
"My sister, Asiavik." Uvulugiaq introduced hir.
Asiavik began to babble in the Innu language. Uvulugiaq laughed and relayed the information to English-speaking. "She says your new Innu name is Ikniqpalik. It's one of our words for lightning."
Ororo sat up on the warm bed. "What happened to Tartok?" But she knew before anyone answered her.
He was dead.
She had killed him.
She had killed someone.
Then she swallowed hard and asked, "Was anyone else hurt?"
"No." Uvulugiaq held her hands. "You saved us." He squeezed them gently and his sister jabbered beside him, looking up at Ororo earnestly. "You are our hero! We are free! We are free to feel again! We can now properly lay to rest those we lost." Uvulugiaq frowned, and Ororo knew that he was thinking of his parents, whom he hadn't been able to freely mourn. He shook his head slightly and his voice continued in her head, "If you are feeling alright, the rest of our village is waiting to thank-you."
Ororo sighed, but rose to her feet. All she wanted was to go home. However, the people who considered her their saviour stood between her and the jet that would return her to New York.
"You think she'll be okay?" Jubilee asked, watching Ororo slip into the crowd.
"Yeah. She's made of strong material. Wanna co-pilot up front with me in the 'Bird? We'll let 'Ro have one of the comfy seats in the back. You can recite more Shakespeare for me." Logan proposed as he slung his arm around Jubilee.
They watched the last of the villagers kiss Ororo on both cheeks and send her off with a hug. Logan met her eyes as she crossed the short distance to the ramp of the high-tech jet. She sullenly looked away. She would be okay, as he told Jubilee, but he knew that it would take time for her to heal.
The flight back was quick. Little was said. They arrived back in Westchester at just after seven o'clock.
Jubilee was waiting when he reappeared out of the forest. She'd parked herself under the yellow light illuminating one of the side doors and had been there for three hours, waiting impatiently, mulling over her first mission, fingering the bear claw amulet that was still strung around her neck. When Logan strode from the trees, Jubilee pushed herself up out of the patio chair and met him in the yard. The fireflies and other small bugs swirled out from the grass as they walked side-by-side back to the mansion.
"What'cha doin'?" Jubilee asked, feigning a care-free air. She looked up at her mentor as he blew a stream of foul-smelling cigar smoke into the night sky.
"Nothin'." He put the cigar back into his mouth.
"Where'd you get that stinky thing? You don't have pockets in your uniform." Jubilee, ever-suspicious, wrinkled her nose.
"I've got a stash in the boathouse."
"Ah!" She seemed to file this bit of information away.
"That stays between us," he growled, shaking a finger in her face. She batted it away and laughed. Logan joined in softly.
"Usually after missions you roar off to the Auger Inn. So, what are you doing out here?"
He did not answer at first. When they reached the patio, Logan stubbed out his cigar on the cement. "I'm waiting."
"For what?"
Wolverine lifted his face into the breeze and thought for a moment. "For the wind to pick up. I'm waiting for the rain to start."
Jubilee looked up at the clear night sky. "Uh-huh. Well, good luck with that," she said, with a raised eyebrow and grin. "I'm done. Toast. Fried. I'm goin' to bed."
"Alright, kid."
"You have a good night," Jubilee softly said.
"Thanks." He smiled out into the forest. "Sweet dreams, darlin'."
"You, too." She resisted her impulse to hug him, and instead quietly opened the French door and slipped inside.
"I do not wish to speak with anyone, right now, Logan… least of all, you." Ororo, ethereally beautiful, clad in a simple blue housedress, strode around the corner. The porch light illuminated her face and bare arms. Her silver hair whipped around her in the wind. She was upset at Logan's presence. She scowled at his being there, in her space.
It was common knowledge that, after returning from a mission, as Logan often stole Scott Summers' motorcycle to ride off to the seediest bar in the area, Ororo's territory was outside in the courtyard. The rain came and went, and no-one approached her. Until now.
"I figured you didn't want to. I could tell," he said, lifting an eyebrow to the roiling clouds that had built steadily over the hour that he'd been sitting on the patio, waiting. Thunder growled ominously, and the weather goddess lifted her hand, summoning the winds.
He almost frightened her with the speed with which he closed the distance between them. His hand seized her wrist.
"No. Don't you go anywhere," he said gruffly. "We need to talk about this." Ororo pulled away in an attempt to free herself.
"Let go of me!" When Logan shook his head, she relented. "Fine. What shall we discuss?" she spat. "My thoughts on becoming a murderer? Or did you want more hideously embarrassing confessions from me? What do you-"
"Ororo." He interrupted her. "You don't need to be so upset."
She scowled and tried to pull away again. "Yes, I do, Logan! I do need to be," she insisted. "The things I've done-! That kid… He shouldn't have done what he did, but he didn't deserve death!"
"Given the chance, that kid would have gladly killed you. And he wouldn't'a given it a second thought. You saved us, 'Ro, and all those people."
"I've never killed anyone before," she said softly.
"You didn't have a choice." Logan tilted her chin up and stared into her sky-blue eyes. She saw in his eyes sadness, yet understanding; empathy with her. She struggled and broke away from his grasp.
"Why are you out here, Logan? Why should you care about me? I treasured our friendship, but I became an animal. I treated you like…" she trailed off and shook her head. She turned away from him. "I practically raped you."
Logan grasped her shoulders and turned her back to face him. "That wasn't you, Ororo. It wasn't your fault."
"Tartok only used against us what was already in our minds. It was me!" she cried. "I've ruined what friendship we had because of my weakness!"
"No-one expects you to be a saint. Who do you think you are- Nightcrawler? Ororo, you're still human!"
She frowned at his attempt at levity. "I'm an animal. I have no control over anger or attraction."
"Join the club, 'Ro. You think I don't know what that's like?"
She started, remembering the feral look in his eyes, that eerie howl. He grinned at her. "Did I have any control over my nature today? No. That kid made me – made us – into animals. That loss of control was no more your fault than mine."
"We have a lot in common as our fears are both about a lack of control," Ororo said seriously. "But I was stupid to hold onto the hope that you might one day share my feelings, which, I suppose, are now obvious."
"Darlin', you are one of the best people I know, and a trusted, respected friend. I know that you're very intelligent, but have you never, not even for a minute, considered that I might already feel the same way?"
"Wh- what?"
"You heard me," Logan growled. "You gotta wake up and smell the coffee."
Shocked, she embraced him. Their lips met, at first tentatively, then with growing need. They pressed against each other passionately. When Logan's rough hands traveled down her back and his mouth trailed to her throat, she threw her head back, gasping. A giggle escaped her.
"Look what you made me do!"
Logan followed her gaze. The clouds that he had watched building steadily were gone; the moonlight shone down on them. He grinned, and she laughed in his embrace, joy-filled. Their mouths met again, and they discovered that, this night, they no longer needed words.
The moonlight streamed through the window of Charles Xavier's bedroom suite. It illuminated his face and pillow, and it reflected of off the oak bedposts and headboard like silver. The LCD alarm clock flashed out the seconds of the night in a steady green rhythm. Xavier watched each passing minute. There had been no sleep for him. He sighed and pushed himself up with his arms. He propped himself up against the headboard and straightened out his t-shirt, which had become twisted with his struggles to get comfortable. He peered out the window at the waning gibbous moon and thought about the day's events. Ororo's mission report had been stark. She was still coming to terms with what had happened. Logan had vanished into the woods that surrounded the Institute. Xavier hadn't made any attempt to contact him, physically or telepathically. He knew that Logan would come around when he was good and ready. Jubilee had been subdued, quiet. He regretted not making more of an effort to check-in with her state of mind about her first mission. He would find her in the morning and ensure that she was alright, he decided.
Xavier was just about to lay back down when there was a soft knock at his door.
"Professor?"
"Jubilee? Come in," he called. "Come here. I was just wondering about how you were doing."
"I didn't wake you?" She slowly opened the bedroom door wider and stepped in. A few fireworks flickered around her knees, which had lit her way through the mansion's expanse. Amused at her flannel pajamas which depicted many cavorting sheep, Xavier smiled at her. "No, I was wide awake. You, too?" He beckoned her to his side.
She joined him on his bed and suddenly began to cry. Startled, he put his arms around her. He was tempted to peer into her thoughts, but resisted, knowing that any therapeutic effect would come from her talking out her worries or problems.
"Jubilation, what is it?"
"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I didn't mean to come in and break down like this." Her breath hitched, and she angrily swiped her tears away. "It's just that, today," she whispered, "that nightmare, that kid…" She took a deep breath before continuing, "It all made me see that this, all of this, is my family, my home! You're like a father to me! And I've been taking it all for granted!"
"Oh, Jubilee." Xavier rocked her in his arms. He sat with her in contemplative silence for a moment before telling her, "You've not been taking us for granted."
"Huh?"
"No," he said as he wiped one of her tears. "No, you're not. You went out and risked yourself to save others on my behalf and showed others what this Institute stands for. You proved that you want to be a part of this family, and to contribute your special talents for the benefit of others.
"You add so much to our lives, Jubilation Lee. This will always be your home, if you want it to be. You are loved, and we know that you love us, too."
Jubilee sniffed and laid her head on his shoulder. The two of them stared out the window into the silvery moonlight. Sometimes, words seemed excessive, when compared with companionship and family.