This chapter should have been easy to write, but it did not turn out that way. I found myself rewriting it a few times. This final chapter was the fourth draft that I wrote. I hope I did good and it's an enjoyable read.
His teeth were impossibly white and gleaming as he smiled at her, arrogantly walking over to stand before her. It was just like she remembered. "Hello, Ororo," he said softly.
She nodded her acknowledgment before looking around the room, trying her best not to look at him. Goddess! She hoped Hank would come back soon and literally prayed that Logan didn't make a surprise visit. Although she knew that seeing him was inevitable, she still felt as if someone had sucker-punched her in her gut at the sight of him. She had often ran different scenarios through her head about her reactions and what she would actually say to him once she saw him again. However, all those conjured up scenarios seemed to have fled her mind, only to be replaced with aggravation.
Ororo took the opportunity to study him without being obvious. It was remarkable how unchanged he was physically, except for the gray hairs sprinkled liberally throughout his dark hair. The few years since they had last seen each other had been kind to him and his masculine appeal was still evident. However, he was still the same Forge, blatantly conceited and assumptive.
She was desperate to remain in control, but his cocky smile and body language were incredibly annoying to her. Schooling her features into a mask of indifference, she returned his greeting with a simple, "Forge."
"You're a sight for these sore eyes," he replied. She saw a hint of a cocky smile on his face. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. A chuckle formed in his throat, but he stopped it before it made a sound. His wide lips smiled easily, but his eyes were busy taking an inventory of her face. They took note of that snow-colored hair he loved, the majestic blue of her eyes and the elegance of her nose and lips. He studied her lips for a long time before lifting his gaze back to hers.
The smug look on his face caused her to grit her teeth and it took a lot of control not to hurl a lightning bolt at the man who apparently had conveniently forgotten the hurt he had inflicted on her. It was dangerously still and quiet in the room. He had come all the way into the room to now stand directly in front of her.
As always, his body vibrated with arousal as he continued to leisurely peruse her lithe form. A scowl materialized on his face when he suddenly noticed her swollen ankle. "What the hell happened to your ankle?"
"It is none of your concern," Ororo replied noncommittally.
"Anything that has to do with you is my concern," he retorted haughtily.
Ororo calmly rose, mindful of her injured ankle and sat up on the bed. "Really now?" Ororo lifted an eyebrow when he stood to his full height, still arrogant. "You lost the right to be concern about me a very long time ago, Forge."
For the second time she wished Hank would make his appearance and get the damn MRI over with so she can escape the sudden asphyxiating confines of the room. Forge was doing a great job of making her upset.
Forge's face fell somewhat at her icy tone. He wasn't expecting that, nor her words. "I will always be concerned about you, my wind rider."
"Please do not call me that," she rejoined scathingly. "You no longer have the right to call me by that name."
"Ororo," he said in a mollified voice. "Can you please give me a chance to explain?"
"Explain what?" She snarled.
Forge was taken aback. She had never spoken to him in that tone before. Was this his Ororo? Was this the same woman he came back for? "What has happened to you?" He asked, a bewildered look on his face. "The Ororo I knew never spoke like that."
"This Ororo is not the Ororo you left behind all those years ago," she countered. "I have grown up from the immature girl you had claimed to love and experience has changed me for the better."
"I see," he muttered. He raked strong, lean fingers through his hair. "I'm positive that's courtesy of your new man."
Ororo's eyes narrowed. How the hell did he come by that knowledge? However, before she could offer a reply, Hank came sauntering into the room. Without looking up from the opened folder he held in his hands, he said, "Are you ready, my beautiful weather Goddess?"
When no answer was forthcoming, Hank looked up to see Forge in the room. He was afraid of this happening. "Oh dear!"
Forge forced himself to break his gaze away from Ororo to look at Hank. "Just the nerd I was looking for."
Hank cleared his throat. He saw the look on Ororo's face and knew he had to get Forge out of the room immediately. Besides, should the Wolverine decide to come back to check on his mate, he may very well be furless by the end of the day. "Forge, can you please leave the room? I am getting ready to attend to my patient. If you need to see me, we shall meet later."
"Yes, of course. I came looking for you and met our lovely wind rider instead. But I can definitely come back later." Forge turned to Ororo. "May I see you later as well? I think we need to talk."
"We do not have anything to talk about, Forge," Ororo retorted bitterly.
"On the contrary," he murmured condescendingly. "I do believe we have a lot to talk about."
"Forge, please," Hank interjected, sensing the weather witch's slipping control. He needed to gain the upper hand on this situation at once or else risk two things, a drastic, dangerous change in the weather and his ass being thoroughly kicked by the Wolverine. "I do need to attend to my patient.
The mechanical man nodded, but not before re-focusing his eyes on Ororo. "We will have that talk, one way or the other, Ororo."
"Do not hold your breath."
Forge sighed as he retreated, already thinking of a way to get through to her. He wasn't about to give up, not so easily.
Jean slowly walked down the corridor leading to Charles Xavier's office. At the morose look on her face, one would think that she was a woman heading to the gallows. But it wasn't too far from the truth in summing up how she felt at that very moment. She felt like a woman who was doomed, a woman with little to no hope. As much as she was reluctant to get the task over with, she knew that this part was absolutely necessary to begin the healing process from the immense hurt and conflict her actions had caused.
However, it wasn't just revealing to her mentor of her connection to Forge and his return, but also what she had wilfully done to Logan. She had decided that if she was going to reveal all of her transgressions, she might as well lay everything out in the open and let the chips fall where they may.
Truth be told, her actions against Logan bothered her greatly. She knew it was unethical, immoral and dangerous to wilfully mess around with his mind, but she had gone and done it. She was overwhelmingly disgusted with herself once she realized that her actions of tampering with Logan's mind were unbecoming and went against everything Xavier had taught her. She had no excuse for that part of her behavior and frankly, she didn't recognize herself anymore.
Jean had replayed in her mind over and over again how she was going to broach the subject of her involvement in Forge's return and her immoral conduct in attempting to alter Logan's mind with Charles, but as she approached the door to his office, all thoughts completely fled her mind. As she raised her hand to knock on the oak door, her breath lodged in her throat, effectively cutting off her breathing. She struggled to regain her equilibrium and breathe again as she heard the Professor's calmly spoken, "Come in, Jean."
She expelled a deep breath in an effort to get the oxygen in and out of her body again. With trembling hands she turned the door knob, pushed the door opened and stepped into Xavier's dominion before closing the door behind her. The click of the door closing had somewhat of a final ring to it that she couldn't help but shudder.
Xavier looked up from the notes he was scribbling to see a petrified Jean standing just inside the closed door. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. His brows knitted together as he observed the woman he had always deemed a daughter, a woman who was genuinely trying to atone for her mistakes. They didn't have a scheduled session today, so he was in the dark as to why she would be in his office hanging on to her control for dear life.
He gave her a smile, motioning for her to take a seat in one of the two brown leather chairs in front of his antique oak desk. "Good afternoon, Jean."
Jean took a seat and closed her eyes, knowing very well that she may be homeless and jobless before the evening was upon them. "Do you have a few minutes, Professor?"
"Most certainly. What can I do for you?"
His question only seemed to further fill the redhead with fear. "I need to speak with you about some things of grave importance," she replied softly.
"I am all ears, my dear."
There was a tense silence as Jean attempted to get her thoughts in order. Charles waited patiently. "I know why Forge is here and why he came back," she blurted out hurriedly.
Charles was taken aback by that statement, but he retained his calm expression. He already knew why Forge was back as the man was projecting carelessly when he had arrived and he had caught a glimmer of his thoughts. He nodded for her to continue.
Jean lowered her head to stare at the floor beneath her quaking legs. After a few moments, she raised eyes shimmering with tears to her mentor. "It is because of me he came back. I..." she paused, struggling for breath. "I encouraged him to come back by telling him that Ororo was waiting for him and would welcome him back with open arms." The tears began streaming down her face as she continued. "I wanted to get Ororo out of the way, so I can have Logan's attentions back, but….I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Charles. It is all my fault." Burying her face in her hands, she cried as she had never done before.
Charles felt completely helpless as he watched the complete breakdown of the woman who was in many ways his equal in mutant abilities. The sobs wracking her body were pitiful to hear. He wheeled around to where she was sitting and patted her shoulder, offering her some comfort. He reached into his suit jacket breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her.
Jean raised a face washed with tears to face Charles. It was now time for the hardest part. "And that wasn't all that I was responsible for." She took a hiccupping breath and lowered her head. She couldn't face the man whom she considered to be a father figure for her next confession. "I inexcusably tampered with Logan's mind too. I thought that if I can control him…"
"He will go back to showering you with the attention you have always craved?" Charles finished for her.
Her head snapped up to meet Charles' unwavering hardened gaze. Shame propelled her to turn her head away from seeing the disappointment in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I'm so sorry. I'll understand if you would want me to leave here immediately." Her apology was followed by another bout of tears.
Charles simply sighed before wheeling himself back to his desk. Steepling his fingers, he calmly said, "Jean, I already had knowledge of your actions in manipulating Logan's mind. However, I am surprised, for lack of a better word, that you would encourage Forge to come back under false pretenses."
She heard the censure and displeasure in his voice and it only served to pile onto the negative feelings she had been caught up in since her world came crashing down.
"I'm sorry, so very sorry."
"Enough of the apologies, Jean," Charles chided. "You have to acknowledge that your actions have consequences and you have to accept the consequences as they come. Apologies, for what they are worth, would not go a long way in fixing the havoc your actions have heaped upon us all."
"Yes, Professor," she answered meekly. "I know that I have a lot to atone for and I have a huge role to play in mending fences with the ones I've hurt."
"Jean, it is my hope that what I am about to say to you go a long way in helping you heal and in helping you to rebuild the bridges you have burned." Charles waited to continue once he knew he had her undivided attention. "You need to dig deep within yourself to accept who and what you are. Your actions are not the actions of the woman I have had the pleasure in nurturing over the years. While your actions are irreversible, it is your responsibility and yours alone to figure out a way to mend the rift in this family. Your future relationships with everyone is dependent on how you will carry and conduct yourself from here on out. The task before you is challenging and difficult but not impossible, but it must be completed by you alone."
Jean paid rapt attention to the words the Professor was voicing to her.
Charles continued, "Contrary to what you may think, I am not going to throw you out or relieve you of your responsibilities here. However, I am going to place you on probation until I believe that we all can function as a single unit again."
"Thank you, Charles."
"What were you thinking, Jean?" Charles hissed.
Jean sighed. "I was thinking selfishly and cruelly," she answered vaguely.
Charles heaved a sigh. He had so much more to say to the misguided woman before him, but he wanted to tackle that in their next few sessions. "Jean, you had to have known that you had Scott's steadfast love and loyalty and he would have laid down his life for you at a moment's notice. The competition you have had with Ororo over the years has been completely unwarranted. You are both extraordinary women who have your own paths to lead in life and much to offer the world in your own ways. You unforgivably tampering with Logan's mind was reprehensible and unethical and I was and still am dismayed that you had no qualms about using your powers to hurt a member of this family. As for your action in luring Forge here, I must tell you that it was plain foolish. You did know that Ororo had overcome that heartache and she is not the type to look back and yearn for her past. You are in for a long, difficult trek back to redemption, my dear."
While it was difficult to listen and hear Charles' raw intense words, she knew that it was a necessary step in gaining clarity and perspective on what the road ahead was going to be like for her. "Thank you for giving me an audience, Professor. I most certainly will take your words to heart."
Charles nodded his head in acknowledgement, but he wasn't done with her. "For the record, I discovered the marker you placed in Logan's head when he came to me with complaints of feeling mentally imbalanced. He was beyond upset and it took a lot for Ororo and I to calm him down and prevent him from seeking you out."
Jean's eyes widened in fear. "Oh God!" She moaned, the ramifications of what she had done finally hitting her full force. What had she done? Did she truly expect the Wolverine to take someone tampering with his mind lightly? The man had a history of people manipulating his mind. She knew that better than anyone else. How could she have violated his trust by using her powers against him, doing the very thing that she knew he detested and knew that he wouldn't condone?
Charles looked at the woman who had and still possessed great potential and whom he had high hopes for. Unfortunately, allowing herself to be sidetracked by what he saw was her pettiness was going to cost her dearly. He heaved a sigh just thinking about the mayhem she had caused and the amount work it was going to take to repair the damage.
It has been two days since she was placed on the disabled roster by Hank. Ororo sat in her greenhouse on the recliner, Logan had moved into the structure for her after she had cajoled him into bringing her out into her sanctuary. After much grumbling, he had agreed, first moving the recliner from his bedroom into the greenhouse, then personally carrying her to the greenhouse with explicit instructions to "sit her sweet ass still and water the damn plants" from the recliner which will enable her to keep her leg elevated, as part of her treatment. As per Hank, the MRI had revealed that she had a rather serious ankle sprain. Hank had explained to her that the ankle consisted of three ligaments or connective tissues that connected bones and when a person had an ankle sprain, he or she more than likely had suffered a tear in one of the three ligaments. Unfortunately, she had a tear in two out of the three ligaments. The bottom line was that she would be sidelined for the next three to four weeks for recovery. During that time, she had to rest the ankle and continually ice the injury for twenty minutes every two to three hours. Additionally, the ankle had to remain compressed with the appropriate bandage and brace and she had to keep her leg elevated.
She was awaiting Logan's return with the bag of ice he went to retrieve for her ankle. She groaned attempting to find a comfortable position, as she controlled the miniature clouds providing nourishment to the various plants and flowers. Goddess, she hated being disabled. For a person constantly active, being inactive was quite sobering. She knew that she shouldn't complain much because her confinement hasn't been that bad, with Logan being super attentive to her needs and making sure that she was well taken care of. Leaning back in the chair, she continued to maneuver the clouds over her plants, when she heard the sound of the door opening. Thinking that it was her mate returning, she smiled and called out, "What took you so long, my love?"
"You haven't called me that in a very long time," came the gruff reply.
"Forge," she whispered in dismay. Goddess, she needed to get rid of him before Logan came back and there was bloodshed this day.
For long moments they stared across the opened space at each other. With one flick of her wrist, the miniature clouds disappeared and she quickly donned a mask of indifference. As she looked at him, she longed to flaunt her relationship and his failure in order to debase and humiliate him as he had her the night he had emotionlessly informed her that he had regretted their relationship and he wanted out of her life. But she refrained, knowing that she was above that sort of trifling behavior.
"I loved it when you use to call me that. I can get use to it again," Forge murmured, flashing her a brilliant smile.
"Well, it was not meant for you," she replied coldly. "What do you want, Forge?"
He lifted his brows at her tone. "You have been avoiding me and I remembered telling you that we need to talk," he replied arrogantly.
"And I remembered telling you that we have nothing to talk about," she shot back.
"Ororo…" He began, reaching out his hands toward her in a soothing gesture, but she shook her head at him, letting him know in no uncertain terms not to come any closer to her and not to touch her. The last thing she needed was for Logan to smell his scent all over her.
"Forge, can you please leave? I am expecting company at any minute and I would appreciate it if you leave me be," she interjected.
Forge sighed and bowed his head. "Your new man, I suppose."
"Yes. And he is the jealous and possessive type, so for your own safety, please leave."
A long uncomfortable silence settled between them, before Forge said, "I'm sorry, Ororo. It was never my intention to hurt you."
"You are a little too late in that regard. Do you have any notion as to the degree of hurt you inflicted on me?" Her voice trembled with anger. How dare he offer her an apology now?
"If it makes you feel any better, it was the biggest mistake of my life."
Ororo laughed harshly. "Yes, in your words, a grave mistake and how you had came to regret being with me."
"I came back to rectify the wrong I have done to you," he said softly.
"Whatever you plan on accomplishing while you are here means nothing to me. I am now happier than I have ever been in my life and you are not going to get an opportunity to rectify anything," she retorted fiercely.
His jaw tensed and he grinded his teeth. His fingers were flexing as he held his arms stiffly at his sides. "Why the hell are you making this so hard? I am trying to apologize to you and see if there's a chance for you and I to rekindle our relationship."
She blinked several times and laughed shortly. "Please allow me to say this once, Forge. There is no chance in this lifetime that I would ever think about rekindling anything with you. The sun has set on what we may have had."
Forge took an intimidating step forward. "You are mines, wind rider."
"No," she answered simply. "I do not belong to you and I have asked you not to call me that name."
"The hell you don't," he roared, suddenly giving vent to the anger he had been trying to contain since he entered her domain. "I am not giving up easily. You are mines, wind rider," he railed, repeating himself.
"I am not yours and will never be," she said flinging her head back in an attitude of defiance that he had never seen from her before and it momentarily stunned him. The storm brewing in her blue eyes was also new to him.
When he regained his senses, he hissed, "Who's the bastard you're with now?"
She remained silent, refusing to answer his question. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing whom he, in his warped mind, undoubtedly saw as his competition.
Her silence seemed to anger him even more. He brought his enraged face within inches from hers. She could feel his hot breath hitting her face. Ororo's eyes whited over, effectively telling him to back off. "Please leave, Forge. I have already allotted you more time than is necessary. Good bye."
Two sounds simultaneously reverberated in the stillness of the room, the unmistakable growl of the Wolverine and the bag of solid ice hitting the floor. Two pairs of eyes spun to see an infuriated Wolverine. The muscles of Logan's jaw were working furiously and his body was taut with barely constrained rage. His gray eyes held a demonic gleam as he took in the scene before him.
What happened next, seemed to have happened in a blur and Ororo had never seen anyone moved as fast as Logan did as he yanked Forge away from her and plastered him to the nearby wall. His forearm was like an iron bar across Forge's neck. He was barbarously fearsome and his eyes blazed into Forge's face with feral blood lust. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't end yer life right here, pretty boy," he growled.
The next sound that echoed throughout the building was instantly recognizable and sounded the death knell for the unsuspecting tinkerer. Snikt!
