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To Dream Again
08. On Strike
Summary: The title has nothing to with the
chapter or even what it is about. What it has to do with is me or rather
my muses who (it seems) are finally ending or thinking of ending the
strike they were on.
“Oh Shit!”
It had lasted all for a second but as far as Scott
Summers, Cyclops was concerned, had it not been the
physically manifested bright light, he would have
sworn that it was his life flashing before his eyes
and that he was seeing the light leading to the
afterlife. It was only a timely ‘telekinetic’
pull yanking him away from the path of the lightning
that saved him from a shock that he would have felt
for quite some time…and remember for the rest of his
life.
Just as one bolt came towards him, many others shot
all over the infirmary, one of which shorted out the
electricity thus plunging the entire room into
darkness, with only the ‘EXIT’ signs providing
illumination, that is until the backup generators
kicked in fifteen second later. For the X-Men,
especially the younger ones who had been on the
mission that had brought them Wolverine, those
fifteen seconds were the longest time period of
their life, for not only did they knew and had seen
what the Wolverine could do, they also knew that
just one blast alone wouldn’t keep him down for
long.
Thankfully, for them, unlike the soldiers at the
base, they had one thing going for them…Ororo.
Shocked at her savage and seemingly involuntary
attack and that too on one of her teammates, one of
her friends, it took Ororo all but a second to rein
in her powers, all while nearly falling over the bed
in a panicked grapple to the other side, to Logan.
“Logan.” Slouched over as if unconscious,
Wolverine’s head shot up at the barely audible
whisper, just in time to see Ororo hobble towards
him. Only a second earlier, allowing his body to
heal, he was planning an attack plan on that
one-eyed fucker, his redheaded bitch and everyone
else in the room, but one look at Ororo and all that
rage faded into the background.
‘’Ro.’ This time around there was no question in his
mind. It was she and as clear by her garb and
physical condition, just like him, she too was a
prisoner of these people. He had to save her. Before
anything else, he had to get her to safety…
…and then he would kill them.
---
On the other side of the room,
Even as Xavier and Jean telepathically as well as
physically contained and calmed Scott, Hank had his
hands full in keeping Gambit from breaking free and
going to Ororo, or as the Doctor suspected what it
would seem to the other feral in the room, going
after her. Unable to break free, but still not
ready to give up, Remy called out, “Stormy,” only to
have his cry fall on deaf ears.
Preparing to use force to break free from Hank’s
hold, the increasing agitated Remy just about lost
when Ororo stumbled, her legs giving way under
her…only to be saved by Wolverine who leapt up and
grabbed her midair, whisking her away into his
corner. If that surprised him (and the others), what
happened next just about floored them.
“Stormy!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening at the way
Ororo reacted towards her captor. Instead of
breaking away or better yet, using her powers on
him, she not only threw her arms around him, she
also started bawling her eyes out.
No one present in the room had ever seen Ororo
behave like this. Not Jean, after one of the
countless nightmares she had witnessed her friend
and the closest thing she had to a sister go
through. Not Xavier, who had come to think of her as
a daughter. Not even Remy, the one person who knew
her better and longer than any one else in the
school. No one. True, she had wept before, both
while conscious or while asleep, but never had it
been like this. As the lone empath of the group that
was something, Remy could tell much better than the
others could.
“Oh Logan…” ‘Logan! That be Logan?’ Remy
could not believe his ears, and had he not been here
at this moment, he would not have. Even now, having
seen and heard Ororo’s reaction, he still was
leaning towards chalking it up to the effects from
the drugs coursing through her body. ‘Or maybe,’ he
paused, ‘Maybe, she hit her head when she fall, an’
is not t’inkin’ clearly.’ Yes. That was the case.
She must be experiencing of some sort of amnesia.
‘Yeah. Dat sound better.’
As for Logan, his calm demeanor lasted long enough
to get Ororo close to him and to check her
condition. Her wellbeing confirmed, he let his
senses expand, stiffening the smell of medicines and
medical disinfectants assaulting his nostrils. A
lab! The assholes put her in friggin’ lab.
“Logan…” Sensing him tense under her, Ororo lifted
her head to face him, stilling at Xavier’s voice in
her head.
**Ororo. I sense rage building up within Wolv…within
Logan.** Though calm, there was more than a
subtle undercurrent of tension in Charles’s
projection. Tension and fear. For himself as well as
for the wellbeing of his students, those within the
room and outside.
**Charles? What? How?** Ororo’s surprise and
confusion sounded clear in her reply. **You can
see…**
**No, I cannot. Projections. He seems to have
taken you to be in danger…a prisoner here. We need
to…**
**I need to get him out of here. Away from all of
this.** Ororo did not even let him complete the
thought. She knew of Logan’s intense dislike for
just about anything medical and realized how the
underground infirmary with Henry’s lab within it
might be affecting him.
**Ororo?** Charles stuttered to a stop.
Letting out the Wolverine into the open? In the
mansion? The school? That too without anyone to sto-…observe
him? Because Ororo definitely was in no physical
condition to…
All those questions and more, stopped and remained
unanswered, all of them drowning under the growl
rising from the other end of them room, a -snikt-
of metal claws.
“Logan.” Still grasping the man and being held in
the Adamantium hold of one arm, Ororo gasped, both
in surprise and from the pain of her wounds, at
finding herself being lifted along with Wolverine.
“Logan!” She tried again, louder. Moving one
hand to his face, she pulled it towards her, having
to apply force to do so. “STOP!”
Loud enough to echo in the corridors, her outburst
had the desired affect, both on the ready to attack
Wolverine and the equally prepared to retaliate
X-Men.
“Stop.” Barely above a whisper, the second time
around, her plea was only for one person.
“Grrr…” though still growling at their ‘captors’,
Wolverine’s attention was completely on Ororo, his
grip, already with his fingers digging into her
flesh becoming even harder.
“D-Don’t,” Ororo shook her head, using her free hand
to gesture over her shoulder. “Don’t. They are…”
Good. Family. Friends. Colleagues. To be left alive.
Not to be gutted. Cool. Groovy. “…helping.” Yes.
“They help.”
“H-Hu-Hel-l-p?”
“Yes. Yes, they help.” Thankful that even in his
current condition she was able to get through to
him, Ororo grasped at the opportunity and gestured
towards the door, the one that led they out of the
infirmary and more importantly, away from the X-Men.
“There. Go there. Out.” She urged him, leaning in
her weight towards the direction she wanted him to
take.
Hesitating long enough to consider Ororo’s claim
about Cueball and the others, even that fuckin’
One-Eye and his meddling bitch, Wolverine came to a
complete halt as his senses confirmed that she had
indeed spoken the truth.
Once again, putting his faith in his senses and more
so in Ororo, Logan stepped back and sided towards
the broken down door, all while keeping his stare on
trained the X-Men, his claws still out and ready to
retaliate against any untoward move by any of them,
especially One-Eye.
Seconds later the two were out the door and gone,
but not before Wolverine let out a warning roar, one
that sent spikes of hard cold fear down the younger
X-Men’s spines, as also their seniors.
---
Having withdrawn to her attic suite, neither Ororo
nor Wolverine lasted for much longer before they
succumbed to sleep, staying that way for the better
part of a day.
Logan, even though he had healed enough to go (if
need be) against the X-Men, his healing factor was
stressed from the constant and extensive healing,
both from his injuries at the hands of the soldiers
and Wraith and from the injuries gotten at the hands
of Cyclops and Forge. Nevertheless, he was more than
ready to make a break for it and escape from the
X-Fuckers. The only reason he remained here was
Ororo. Heck, he could have even carried her away
with him. It was only her words and the way her
presence was embedded in her room that
finally caused him to stop and let his guard down…a
little. Not only was her scent everywhere in the
room, as also on just about every other place they
had crossed on their way here, its depth also showed
that she had been for quite some time, months if not
years.
Still, even with these calming factors, it
would be quite some time before he allowed himself
to give in to the fatigue clawing at him, definitely
not before he made sure of Ororo’s wellbeing…before
she went to sleep.
As for Ororo, the adrenaline rush that had propelled
her off her bed in the infirmary, into Logan’s arms
and caused her to lash out against Scott, soon
trailed off, leaving her feeling incredibly tired…as
she should have bee. Thanks to the blood transfusion
from Angel, her wounds were healing properly and
quite rapidly. However, it would be at least a week
or two before she returned to full power, before the
last remaining trails of injuries healed and
smoothened away. Until then she would be off duty.
Thanks to the last thought that Xavier had projected
to her as she and Logan left the infirmary, she
already knew that part, as also that no one would be
disturbing them.
Even food and clothing (for Logan) was taken care
off, made clear by the loaded trolley left at the
foot of the steps leading up to her suite.
It would be nearly twenty-four hours before the duo
saw anyone from the mansion. Unfortunately, that
second meeting came within inches to becoming a near
exact remix of the first one.
---
Waking up lying on her side, the first thing or
rather person that Ororo saw was a pair of pitch
black eyes staring intently at her. Sitting on the
floor next to her bed, Logan…Wolverine had been
keeping a vigil on her, both for the man within him
as also the animal. Even in her sleepy state, it did
not take Ororo long to realize who she had waken up
to.
“Logan.” She raised one hand to his face, smiling
softly at the way Logan leaned into her caress, a
growling purr rising from his chest. Years of
separation and the reaction was still the same.
Except for the wild overgrown hair and beard, it was
as if nothing had changed.
“Rrrrr…” Logan climbed over the side. With one hand
steadying him, the other reached forward to pull
away the covers revealing Ororo naked except for the
bandages body. As soon as they reached Ororo’s room,
Logan had pulled off not only his but also her
hospital gown, tossing the medical smelling
tatters out one window. Seeing her bandages had
elicited a snarl from him and for a second Ororo
feared that he might take off after the X-Men, his
looking over his shoulder and the -snikt-
that announced the unsheathing of his claws only
adding depth to that doubt.
She still wasn’t used to that -snikt-,
just as she did not understand the metal, how it got
there…on his bone claws.
“Logan.” A growl and nuzzling at her neck drew her
back from her introspection, her hands automatically
rising, one going to through his hair, the other
grasping at his bare back.
“’Rrro…‘Ro.” Logan backed up, his eyes once again
finding and holding hers. “’Rrorro,” he growled, his
throat constricting at the scratchy feeling that
came from forming comprehensible sounds, human
sounds…human words.
“Yes.” Still on her back, Ororo jerked her head,
nodding shakily as tears welled up within and
escaped from her eyes. He was back. He was back and
he remembered her. Her. He was back.
“’Rrruro.” Chanting the single word over and over
again, Wolverine leaned in, drawing closer to
breathe deeply at the valley of her breasts,
reveling in her earthy scent. One deep breath and
his senses, already buzzing, went into overdrive.
Long buried memories pulled up and flung against the
present, mixed to confirm and strengthen each other.
Earthy. Fresh rain. The slightest hint of ozone. All
her…All Ororo.
Ororo knew what he was doing. He always did this,
even in her dreams. He was refreshing his memories
of her scent, updating them. He did this just as
other people memorized faces and other physical
features.
“Uhn…Logan,” she moaned as he turned sideways,
rubbing his stubble against on one breast, its
nipple rising up in response to his caresses.
“Lo-Logan…” even though physically she was in no
condition, Ororo moaned at the wetness pooling
between her legs, her body rising up to arch against
him. It had been so long, so many years since she
felt another body against hers this way…since she
felt him this way. So long and just one touch
from him, it was as if no time had passed at all. It
was as if they were back to where they used to
be...how they used to be.
“Logan.” Her entire body was on fire, his
mere touch converting years of ache into hot, raw
desire. Threading her long fingers into his thick
raven hair, she pulled him nearer trying to maximize
the touching. There could be none other. No one.
Only him. Only Logan.
“Lie with me.” She murmured, and even though he did
not say anything in response, other than the growl
of her name, Wolverine did seem to comprehend and
follow her lead, understanding that she needed to
heal. One last deep breath and caress at her
midsection and he started to lie down beside her,
drawing her up to fit alongside him…only to freeze
mid move, his face draining of all its softness.
“GRRR…” Ororo’s eyes widened as Wolverine leapt off
the bed, his metal claws extending, ready to attack.
“What happened?” She called from the bed, wincing as
she pushed herself up into sitting up. She knew his
stance well. He was sensing danger and from the
direction he was facing, it was coming both from the
balcony.
“Logan,” she tried again. Moving sideways, she let
her legs dangle over the side of the bed and rose up
gently. “Logan…what is it?” she whispered softly so
as not to startle him, set him. “Who is it?” Her
balcony was well above the ground to make it near
unapproachable by just anyone. Whoever it was…
“Red eyes.” ‘Scott?! What is-’ “Trench coat.”
Remy.
“Oh.” Ororo seemed relieved and angry at the same
time. She did not appreciate having her...their, her
and Logan’s, privacy disturbed, not even by Remy.
“Let me,” she stepped forth. “I will take care of
it.” Laying one hand over his forearm, she slowly
weighed his hand down to his side. “Please put the
claws away,” she urged, knowing well that he would
not. Until he made sure that they were not in any
danger, his claws would remain unsheathed. The deep
growl she felt reverberating through their
connection confirmed her thoughts.
“Very well,” she conceded, “then let me talk. Okay?”
A tight nod answered her this time around, even if
eyes never left the open balcony door.
“Remy.” Ororo called out loudly. “Come out. I-We
know you are there.”
Sure enough, there was a slight rustling and the
auburn haired mutant dropped from the roof,
immediately crouching in an attack position, his
eyes flashing in anger as three glowing cards
grasped between his fingers. Ororo. Stormy. His
Stormy. His best friend and sister, naked,
with the Wolverine. ‘De beastie must ‘ave forced
himself on her.’
“Remy, what are you doing here?” Ororo asked, trying
to move away and grab a bed sheet from the bed.
However, Wolverine’s hand stopped any movement. He
was on ‘All Alert’ and until the danger was
over, he wasn’t going to let go of her.
Remy narrowed his eyes at the possessiveness of the
Wolverine. No one did that to Ororo. She let no one.
Not that anyone dared. “Remy came to check on ‘is
Stormy. ‘e was worried.” He tone softened just a bit
only to harden again at his next words. “An’ from
what Remy see, ‘e was correct. Come ‘ere Stormy.”
‘Stormy?’ Logan’s interest piqued.
“Logan. You need to let go,” Ororo whispered at his
ear. “My clothes. I need-” was all she got out
before, his attention drawn to her unclothed state,
Logan whirled back, grabbed a bed sheet and wrapped
it around her. Stepping between her and the other
man, he snarled, his lips curling to reveal his
sharp canines.
Just when it looked when things would take a turn
for the nasty, a knock sounded at the door.
--
“S-Storm. Ms. Monroe.” Kitty Pryde’s young voice
sounded from the other side, the crack in it clearly
indicating her nervousness. Even though the
Professor had said otherwise, she was still wary of
the Wolverine attacking her…even with Storm there.
Not a couple of minutes ago she was sitting down for
breakfast, only to have the Professor send her here
to check up on Ms. Monroe and invite her and Mr…uh,
Wolverine to join them for breakfast. Why she had to
hurry up was a mystery to her.
“Remy, put the cards away.” Wrapping the bed sheet
around her, she inserted its end in the front.
“Remy. NOW.”
Her tone was stern, commanding, succeeding in
getting Gambit to lower his raised hand, the cards
losing their fluorescent glow.
“Now. Open the door. Please.”
Note: Finally got out the ‘Stuck in Limbo’ update out for
this too. Had been stuck with this one for almost a month. Hope that the next
one won’t be as long in coming. As for the abrupt ending of this chapter, it is
deliberate and no it’s not another one of those cliffhangers that I seem to
use…well, almost always.
Next, Ororo and Logan. Yes. But Storm and Wolverine?
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