Summary: A single act brings hurt and grief.
Author's Note: I've revised this story and added a time line so that it would be easier to understand.
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men
Rating: T
Author's Note: Yeah, I know. It's been a while. Anyway, here's a new chapter to delight you all. I'll also be re-vamping the entire story. Editing. Adding. The works. Nothing new, but take a look if you like.
CHAPTER 19
Present Time: I-95 Due South
"Where are we?" Rogue yawned stretching in her seat, arching her back like a cat. Angling her head to the right she gasped when she heard a pop in her neck and slunk back into the cushioned leather seat. Rubbing a hand over her face, she glanced over at Scott after he failed to answer her question. His field of vision was pinned on the road and it was bleak.
Something was troubling him.
"Hello?" She cried, fanning out her hands, shaking them to gain his attention.
He looked at her in total surprise. Astonishing blue eyes widened to full circles. "What? You say something?"
Rogue closed her eyes, letting out a rude snort that was so like Wolverine's persona that was in spite of everything he was lodged deep in her psyche. Apparently Scott hadn't heard a word she had said. "Where are we?" she asked again.
He took his eyes off the road to momentarily glimpse the GPS navigator mounted on his dashboard. "We just left New Jersey about thirty minutes ago."
"What?" Rogue cried jumping in her seat, straining to look behind her, but there was total and complete darkness; except for the highway lamppost that were mount on either sides of the industrial freeway. She dropped into her seat cast a dark eye on Scott. "I thought you said you wanted to go somewhere and talk?"
"We're going somewhere," Scott admitted, "And as far as talking goes…well…you fell asleep so not much talking could've been done there."
"This is kidnapping."
"Oh, get off it Rogue," Scott remarked, grimly. "I don't have you gagged and tied up in the trunk of the car. "Besides," he looked at her pointedly, his eyes narrowing. "You know you wanted to get out of that place just as badly as I do."
"So that you wouldn't run the risk of getting your ass kicked by Logan," she snubbed.
Twisting his mouth, Scott suppressed the heat blazing in his chest. Her words stung. And they stung badly. After all this time, she was still angry at him. "You mean that over protective blood hound who keeps you under tight surveillance," he slurred. "No. I'm not running because of him. And furthermore, he caught me off guard that day."
"Fine, whatever you say," she said icily.
He snapped his head round to gawk at her. His was face hot with rage and his eyes, despite the sudden ability to control his powers, burned furiously. "Hey," he began, striving to maintain control. "What's with the attitude?"
"Attitude," Rogue feigned intelligence, folding her arms, and slumping against the car door. "What attitude?"
"Don't act stupid."
She reared up in fury, wrinkles furrowing her button shape nose and forehead. "Don't call me stupid!"
"I didn't call you stupid," he rebuffed. "I said not to 'act' stupid."
"Same thing," she huffed.
"Hardly," he said, gripping the steering wheel tightly, anger pouring into every cell in his body. This was not how it was suppose to be. None of it. Yes, she'd be upset, but momentarily. Then they would talk and laugh and everything would go back to way it first began. Friendship, ice-cream and engrossing conversation. "I don't see why we're arguing like this."
"What did you expect," she replied darkly, "hugs and kisses. You did toss me aside when it was convenient."
Enraged Scott swerved the car into a nearby off ramp. Several cars honked angrily at the crazy action that sent Rogue clinging nervously to her car seat. Once clear of the highway, he stamped his foot on the gas pedal, bringing his car to a screeching halt.
Terrified, Rogue panted heavily staring into the glaring darkness of what could only be described as open country. Gaining control of her nerves she looked at Scott with frightened yet crazed eyes. "Are you out of your freakin' mind?" she screamed. "You could've killed us."
"It was Jean," Scott finally admitted after a long pause and after Rogue's frantic curses had abated.
"What?" she said, unsure she understood what he meant. "Jean made you drive us off the road like a lunatic."
"No. She threatened me. Threatened to expose our relationship to the board of education…and…at the time it was believed you were just sixteen." He leaned back into seat, exhaling; a weight lifting, somewhat glad to be free of the secret he'd been carrying for weeks. He looked at Rogue. Her mouth was quivering and her eyes were filled with tears. "I'm not expecting you to forgive me. I was just trying to protect you…protect the Professor's reputation and the school. Plus, I know Jean, she's crazy when she's jealous."
"Well," Rogue scoffed, folding her arms. "That would explain why my clothes were soaked in bleach the other day. She's got a little 'Fatal Attraction' in her. Hell, I bet if I had a pet rabbit the poor thing would be boiling on a stove right now."
Scott let out a riotous laugh and couldn't stop laughing despite the dark look she cast him. Eventually, she too cracked into a whirl of giggles, and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"You could've told me," she inhaled, catching her breath. Her insides were hurting from all the laughing, but it felt good. It was a long time since she had a really good laugh.
"I tried—sort of—but—"
A timid smile crept over Rogue's lips as she coiled a platinum strand of her hair behind her ear. "I wasn't exactly helpful was I," she said, recalling the night he came to her cottage down by the private lake owned by the Professor. It was her birthday and dreary one it had been due to St. John acting like a pompous ass the whole time and the fact that she wasn't in a partying mood.
Her words were as bitter as her manner. Cold.
"I'm sorry about that," she whispered and intuitively started playing with the ends of her hair; an unconscious habit she'd developed when she was kid. Whenever she was nervous she was tugged on her hair. And what was not to be nervous. Here was she was alone with an incredibly good looking guy who just recently discovered with her that she was three years older than she believed. The inside of the car started to become uncomfortably hot as awareness flowed through every vessel in her body. Her heart began to slam against her ribcage and perspiration dotted her forehead and cheeks.
"You don't have to apologize," Scott replied, his voice low and husky.
Goosebumps exploded on Rogue's pale skin and she hugged herself as she tried to stop the tremors that were radiating from her head to her toes. She angled her head when she felt his gaze on her and found herself staring deep into a set of alluring blue eyes. She always thought his eyes were perfect.
But under the guise of the moon they seemed to have an ethereal glow that pulled on her heartstrings.
Heat screamed up her arm when Scott reached over to take her hand in his. "It's good to see you smiling again Rogue."
Her lips curled into a pliant smile, "Marie, silly."
He chuckled, a smile reaching his eyes, causing them to twinkle.
They sat quietly, listening to the highway roaring in the distance, and the melody of night. "We can't stay here," Scott said, firing up the engine, guiding the sleek automobile down the road in search of way back onto highway.
Rogue let out exasperated breath. The moment was lost. She observed as Scott maneuvered his car through a rural town intent on getting back on I-95.
"I'm starving?" she groaned, her stomach growling. "And where the heck are we?"
Scott checked the GPS. "Pennsylvania."
"Cool, I always wanted to tour Philadelphia, and I hear they make the best cheese steak sandwiches in the world."
"I heard that two," Scott smiled, exiting on the junction that would take them deep into the heart of the 'City of Brotherly Love'.
--
Present Time: New York City, Manhattan
On a bright Wednesday morning, Ororo Munroe found herself in a room with expectant mothers, and pregnant teenage girls sitting forlornly beside their mothers in the waiting room of her OB/GYN. Dr. Amelia Voght was her physician and an accredited specialist and lifelong friend and colleague of Hank McCoy. Considering the unsettling circumstances affecting her and everyone else at the mansion, he had no qualms referring Dr. Voght and was rather glad she would be handling Ororo's prenatal care. Being a mutant herself and once romantically involved with Professor Xavier, Amelia was more than willing to aid a friend in need.
She shared her practice with Richard Burton, a brilliant Pediatrician, on the twelfth floor of an elaborate medical facility in the bustling downtown Manhattan area.
Legs crossed Ororo sat in the lounge reading an O, Oprah magazine, leafing through the pages as she awaited to be seen. All the while she was trying to focus and ignore the one person she had no desire associate with at the moment. "Logan," she breathed heavily without looking at him, "if you don't stop fidgeting I swear I'm going to zap into the next building."
Wolverine clawed a hand through his already messy hair feeling a quite uneasy and extremely disturbed. His stomach twisted into a knot. The sight of female reproductive organs posted on walls and the smell of antiseptic making him squirm. The screech of babies being consoled by wayward new mothers was giving him an awful. "How can you stand this freakin' place?"
"It's a doctor's office. I'm sorry if your history with people of the medical field hasn't been so quaint. Besides, I didn't ask you to come," she turned a page and continued to read.
Logan glared at her. This morning he'd caught her rushing in all haste to her car. He'd been toiling on Scott's motorcycle since the crack of dawn. It was a shock to his system to see her up about so early. He hadn't seen much less spoken to her since the barbeque and that was four days ago. He demanded rather than asked where she was going. When she refused he threatened to follow her…all day if necessary. Conceding, she told she was going for her first ultra.
He asked her if she wanted company. She was about to voice a loud, angry NO if she hadn't heard the Professor's voice in her head. He actually encouraged the idea and elaborated that whether or not she and Logan do patch up their differences. He was the child's father and was going to be a permanent fix in her life for the next eighteen years. She muttered a bitter 'fine' and waited for him to wash up and grab his jacket.
"We've been here for an hour. I thought you made an appointment."
"I did," she said, "That doesn't mean I won't be waiting. Dr. Voght is extremely sought after. To get to see her you got make an appointment two weeks in advance."
"Figures," he snorted, leaning back in the chair. He scrubbed his hand over his face and scratched his scraggly grown mutton chops. With steady eyes, he gazed about his surroundings. A sharp jitter went up spine as he looked eyes with a middle age woman—dressed in a business suit that more who stared at him with dismissive eyes that flickered away to set on Ororo. Logan gritted his teeth. Old witch probably figured them as a couple and disapproved. He was not ignorant to the notion that some people still had qualms with interracial relationships.
Storm eyed him darkly out the corners of her eyes, "You can go Logan I have this totally under control."
"I'm not going anywhere," he snapped. "It's my baby too."
"Please," she hissed, rising to her feet when her name was called. "Don't remind me." She walked briskly to a pretty blond in light blue scrubs and was escorted into a private room.
"Hi, I'm Jamie," the woman said in a high pitch, cheery voice. She crossed over to a cabinet and handed Ororo a yellow hospital gown. "Change into these and I'll be right back to take your vitals then Dr. Voght will be in to attend you." A bright smile stretched across the RN's face and she departed the room.
Storm clutched the open back garment to her chest before glancing Logan's direction and saying, "May I have some privacy please," she said sternly.
A sly grin creased Logan's mouth. "You ain't got nothin' I haven't seen before," he replied leaning casually against a counter loaded with medical supplies.
"Leave," she demanded, an icy, electric glow filling her eyes.
"Hey," Logan held up his hands, catching the subtle change in weather from the window just beyond where she stood. "I'm going but I'll be back." Furious he yanked the door open and shut with a bang.
Alone, Ororo let out her breath, the effort itself sapping strength from her legs, and she plopped into a chair conveniently located beside the window. Her thoughts were in tizzy as she struggled to regain control of her powers. Why did the Professor insist in Logan's participation in this? It suited her just fine to venture down this track alone. Hell, it was her body, her baby. She would oversee its care and development. Having Logan on the spot would only complicate things and stir her already frayed emotions.
She stood and striped to the nude. Taking up the gown, she slipped into it and tried to the ends. A knock on the door quickened her pulse. "I'm not ready," she spoke to the door, believing it was Jamie returning to take her vital signs.
Instead, Logan entered. "It's me. I thought you might need some help tying the gown."
"No thanks," she said bristly.
Rolling his eyes, he let out a rude snort. "Oh, come on Storm, damn…lighten up. I ain't gonna jump your bones right here in office."
Curbing her temper she showed her back to him, gripping to lose flaps of the garment to conceal her naked rear. She trembled at the steps he took to reach her and butterflies lifted in her stomach the second she felt his fingertips sweep over her skin.
Logan could smell her discomfort as he fastened the strings together. It was so thick and heady and the tension was bout ready to stifle him to death. "There," he said, watching Ororo retreat to the other side of the exam table. A safe distance away from the hormones powering through his body. He had forgotten the feel of her skin; the sleekness of her back and the sight of tone muscles chiseled out of vigorous training and routine.
"You can go now," Ororo began her voice somewhat shaky.
Logan's eyes became black as he cocked his head. "I told you I wasn't going anywhere."
"And I told you—"
"Knock, knock," chimed Jaime as she poked her head through the door. "I'm back. I hope you're ready." Ororo flash a half felt smile and pushed up onto the table.
In a fluid pace, Jaime took her vitals, smiled and made small talk while she jotted the information onto the chart. "Dr. Voght will be with you shortly."
"Thank you," said Ororo, brushing her hair back. A deafening silence lingered. "I wish you wouldn't stare," she finally spoke out, shattering the nerve racking quiet that was definitely driving her to the brink of insanity.
"It's just strange seeing you here," replied Logan.
She glanced at him then, "Strange how?"
Logan shrugged and pushed away from the counter. "I don't know. Us being here. A baby on the way. To tell the truth, having kids weren't exactly in the cards."
"And you think they were in mine," she frowned.
"I wasn't trying to upset you."
"Too late for that!"
"How long are you going to keep slaying—"
"So, this is the happy couple." Dr. Voght entered the exam room; her presence and aura bringing an end to the dispute ready to set fire.
Clearing his throat, Logan stalked over to a corner, whilst Ororo nervously fiddled with her hospital gown and hair. Amelia sensed the tension and played unawares. She greeted both parties with a handshake and a warm smile.
"It's good to see you again, Amelia," said Ororo.
"How's Charles?"
"Alright, busy, dedicated to peace and happiness."
"That sounds like Charles," Amelia said, opening Ororo's file, and taking a seat on a stool. "So, how have you been feeling?"
"Okay, except for the bouts of nausea, I'm fit as a fiddle."
Amelia nodded. "Good and from your stats everything appears to be in order but why don't we have a thorough look shall we." She rose setting the file aside and proceeded to adjust the exam table. "Lie back and place your feet in the stir up—oh—do you want him to remain?" Before Ororo had a chance to reply Logan barked a 'yes' and moved to Storm's side.
Although Amelia was quick, the instruments were cold, and Ororo was incredible uncomfortable by the sight of Logan standing there observing as the good doctor examined her private parts. But color flooded her face when she recalled sensuous night when he too did a little 'examining' of his own.
"Well," Amelia yanked off her gloves, rubbing her hand with alcohol. "Everything looks good. All we need to do is take a look at the fetus and you're all set." She moved to the other side of Ororo and switched on the ultrasonography machine. Squirting a freezing cold gel on her pelvis area Amelia manipulated the panel.
Ororo's eyes were pinned on the screen anxious to see the child she and Logan sired together. At first, there was nothing but soon she could see the outline of a tiny figure emerging in 3D. She gasped in wonder.
"There it is." Amelia smiled pointing to the screen. "Perfect and it appears your 12 weeks along."
Unknowingly, Ororo lifted her eyes to Logan. His eyes were also glued to screen. Was he counting? Estimating the last time they had slept together. She didn't have to wonder about the time frame. They were together during that period. Everything was going well until…
"Here's the heartbeat," Amelia flicked on the sound and a rapid drumming sound filled the room.
"Our baby," Logan said, filed with awe.
Ororo's heart warmed at his statement and she felt his callus fingers slip into her hand. "Our baby."