"She's gonna be okay."
It was the first time in twenty minutes that anyone in the waiting room had dared speak. A hand stopped Ororo in mid-pace, but Ororo pulled herself up to her full regal height and stabbed her friends with piercing glares. She wanted them to see her full goddess glory, to show them how much she despised self-depreciating pity, but they weren't fooled. And Secretly Ororo thanked their stubborn, pig-headed, insistent natures. Her shoulders relaxed a little. "Thank you, Rogue."
"You an' Wolverine don't have t'go t'rough dis alone," Remy said. "We all care 'bout de petite."
Ororo's jaw stiffened. "So everyone knows?"
Rogue shrugged. "Don't blame the swamp rat. You know nothin' stays secret 'round here for long. If one of us is hurt, the rest of us're there to pick up the slack."
"All f'r one, an' one f'r all," Remy whispered gently. He came around to Ororo's other side and softly squeezed her shoulder.
"Besides," Scott sighed. He shifted uncomfortably in the waiting room chair. "Remy didn't spill the beans. I did."
Off of Ororo's surprised look, Scott's fidgeting increased. "Well, Warren cornered me, and Bobby wouldn't let it drop—"
"And you know what a big blabbermouth Bobby is," Betsy said, folding her arms.
Bobby stuck his tongue out at Betsy. "I resemble that remark. But seriously...Well, you know us, boss. It's corny and stupid, but we're all like one big happy family. Nada's our child, too."
Warren Worthington flexed his wings and made a face. "The ice cube's got a heart after all. All this time I thought he was pure mouth."
"At least I don't look like Woody Woodpecker on steroids." Bobby threw a magazine at Worthington, who promptly ducked out of the way.
A small smile tested the corners of Ororo's mouth--they were all trying to lighten the mood, to keep her mind off of the situation, and their banter almost worked.
She strode from their comforting circle and peered through the tiny slip of ER window, frowning as Wolverine, Jean, Hank, and Charles huddled around Nada as if she were little more than a zoo exhibit. Be fair, Ororo, she chided, but deep finger-sized gouges patterned the flesh of her upper arms, denoting her stress. Ororo didn't like this new game Wolverine put her through, this game of trust and acceptance. She felt raw and exposed, and she wondered if everyone could see through her calm mask. Trusting Wolverine meant giving up control, and after so many years of trusting herself...or, she thought grimacing, trusting Forge, it felt dangerous to permit such a free, uninhibited reign of sensitive feelings. She wasn't quite sure how to deal with them.
It's time to feel again, Ororo's mind teased, and she softly smiled at its insistent whisper. The prospect thrilled and excited her and yes, goddess, it was true. She had fallen deeply in love with Logan. And her breath caught, wondering if he felt the same.
To prevent herself from wondering too much too quickly, she spread her fingers across the small ER pane and watched the trio of professionals work on her daughter. Wolverine wasn't a hindrance yet, but he certainly didn't help matters with his anxious pacing. Hank had wanted as few people around Nada as possible but Logan had refused to leave and he threatened everyone with bodily harm if they dared to persuade him. Storm had fought to stay as well, but Hank argued her back to the waiting room saying one worried parent was enough, and Nada needed a calm environment. Two parents were already two too many. Not wanting to distract him from his work Ororo let it go, and only those four remained.
I should have fought to stay.
The new plastic tubes and twisted wires weaved a tent-like web around her child. Such things, Ororo thought, were foreign to a child born of the wind and the earth. Her child could not breathe in such an environment. She hungered for the wind and rain, thirsted for the dirt and trees. Why were they putting her child in this prison--? Her heart suddenly skipped. She said it. She knew it.
Goddess...her child. Ororo's mind, body, and spirit rejoiced. Truly Nada was hers—hers and Logan's—and the idea conjured joy-filled tears. Though she had not physically given birth she felt as if she had, and giving up Nada now made as much sense as a mother giving up an 18-year-old child for adoption. She couldn't possibly give Nada up. She wanted to know her more, to walk with her, to learn from her—and to teach her. The idea of losing Nada now, after just realizing how special and important she was in her life, was nearly too much for Ororo to take. Nada couldn't leave her. Not now. It was too soon.
Jean glanced up from the ER table with a small smile. < Don't worry, 'Ro. She's doing fine. She's a fighter...just like her parents .>
< Thank you, Jean .> Ororo thought back. < Please keep me appraised of any changes. >
Jean's smiled quirked a little. Only Jean knew that Ororo's stiff words were a cover for the depth of emotions churning beneath. < You'll know it as soon as we do, Ororo. >
< Thank you .> At the subtle change on Ororo's face, Rogue shook her head and guided her friend back to a chair. "C'mon, sugah. You're gonna give yerself a neck ache lookin' through that tiny window. No use gettin' all worked up about it now. There's plenty of time for that later."
"And that is a good thing?"
Rogue smiled playfully, but Ororo was half-serious. Her heart ached mercilessly. How much more pain could it take? But as she took a careful survey of the room and the love within, and the encouraging, friendly faces around her, she realized that she could think of no better friends to help her through it.
* * *
"Dammit, Hank—"
"Quiet, Wolverine!" Hank barked. "Not another word. We're working as quickly as possible."
Wolverine snarled dangerously. He understood Hank's pressure, but it didn't make the wait any less bitter. A small part of him wanted to gut the doctor if anything went wrong.
The doctor worked fast, but Nada had been unconscious from the time they placed her shivering form on the table. Her temperature had only gone down a half-degree, and her blood pressure plummeted like a stone.
"Jean--vitals?"
Jean's face twitched. "They aren't falling as fast, but they aren't exactly stable, either."
Hank hissed sharply between his teeth. "We need someone who can read that machine. What I wouldn't do for a competent ER nurse!"
"Hank, I'm doing the best—"
"I know, Jean, I know...Never mind. It's a tense time for all of us. Is her blood pressure stable, at least?"
"Yes."
"Good. Thank you. I'll watch her readings for the next few minutes. If they remain steady, we'll take the collar off."
Wolverine continued pacing in his small corner of the room. He never liked seeing his own friends get hurt in battle and this situation felt worse, somehow. The sense of not being able to do anything but watch frustrated him. And, as he saw Nada's distressed form on the hard, metal table, today felt worse than any combat situation. Now he understood how fathers felt, and he hated this new, uncomfortable feeling of helplessness.
He glanced at Xavier. The Prof was concentrating hard, probably to get a lock on Nada's mind. He knew what it meant—Chuck was checkin' out her brain, seeing if Nada could take the stress of his Frankenstein-like experiments. Even after he'd told him no, even after he'd seen his anger, Chuck was still going at it. Wolverine's claws itched at the surface of his knuckles. Fine, they wanted a fight. He aimed to please.
Still...
His gaze hovered over Jean, not understanding her role in it. Either she'd done a complete 180 on him or she didn't know what Hank and the Prof were planning. And either way it meant that there was one more unknown in the equation, one segment that had been conveniently "forgotten." It meant more problems and greater miscalculations. Not exactly smart, when you're considering brain surgery. He didn't want to disturb Jean, since part of her mind needed to concentrate on Nada's condition, but this was too important to wait. Plus, Hank and Chuck needed to know that they weren't the only kings on the chessboard. He flexed his fists, partly to calm himself down.
< Jeannie .> Jean glanced at him, somewhat shocked that he initiated the telepathic contact. Usually he didn't "call" her anymore unless it was important, and it must've been pretty damn important since his daughter lay unconscious on a slab while they were saving her life.
< Logan? If you need to know Nada's status, she's holding up okay. I'm keeping her calm enough to-- >
< No. It's not that. > He broke contact for a second, trying to find the right words, and Jean resisted yanking the truth from him.
< Did either Hank or the Prof tell ya what they're plannin' for Nada? >
She raised her eyebrows and glanced warily at Hank. The blue doctor was wiping his hands on a towel while checking Nada's latest vital readout. She didn't dare glance at Charles, but she knew the Professor had been concentrating for a long time. Too long, if she had to calculate it. Perhaps Logan knew something that Charles had blocked from her. She definitely didn't appreciate that.
< No, Wolverine. They haven't spoken with me. >
He nodded slowly, but she felt anger building in the back of his mind. < They say they can help her. But they're plannin' on using you to help them alter her mind .>
She was stunned, and even Wolverine caught the quiet backlash from it.
< Really...How so? >
He went on to show her the conversation, from his point of view. He felt Jean's emotion rage through his mind, running the gamut from shock, to anger, to disgust. He was a little surprised at feeling waves of fear from her, too.
< I can't say that I approve. >
< No kiddin'. >
Both of them turned. They were quietly surprised when Charles' gentle eyes met their own.
< Jean, may I speak with you privately? >
< Are you sure? >
Charles caught the bitter sarcasm in her voice. She didn't have to project anything—the evidence of her anger, and Wolverine's, was clearly upon both their faces.
< I mean, Charles, it seems like you're used to making my decisions for me. Why stop now? >
He sighed audibly and massaged his temples. < Jean, I apologize. With all of the excitement surrounding the discovery, Hank and I didn't have time to discuss this with you.>
< Which I don't appreciate. You assumed something you shouldn't have .>
< I understand, Jean. However... >
An ugly audible growl caused Hank McCoy to glance coldly at Wolverine and the Professor. But Charles' face was fixed--concentrating on the mutant whose claws threatened to turn the ER into pandemonium.
Charles pushed past the fury in Wolverine's mind. < I know you're upset, Wolverine. And I promise not to..."turn Jean against" you and Ororo. But I must speak with Jean. Alone. >
Logan severed all telepathic communication. "Do whatever the hell you want, but you ain't touchin' my little girl without askin' me first. Get me?" His claws came out to emphasize his point.
"Perhaps my timing is rotten," Hank interrupted sharply. He often caught the tail end of telepathic conversations on the verbal side, which rarely upset him, but right now the arguments fueled his anger. "But I can't foresee a better one. Nada is stable, for the moment. I must remove her collar if she's to stay stable. I will need everyone's—" he glared at Wolverine "—everyone's cooperation to accomplish this. I don't care who started what, or why. But when I remove this collar I need all of you ready for the next step. I don't care diddly about your opinions. Nada needs your complete help, if she's to survive this. Understood?"
The heads nodded somewhat guiltily.
"Good. Thank you." Hank's jaw softened. "Logan. Please call Storm in here." "What're you plannin'?"
"This isn't the surgery, Logan, so you can forget any conclusions you might have on that." Hank looked grim. He pinched his eyes between his spectacles, and Wolverine realized that the doctor probably hadn't slept much, either. "I don't know. I don't even know what to expect. Nada could charge up quickly, allowing for mere seconds of clarity before we can act. Or, it could take several minutes for her powers to overtake her. We don't have any way of knowing what her window of opportunity is, but whatever time Nada has I expect that both of her parents will want to be here for the entire process."
"You got that right," Logan said, heading for the door.
Hank nodded and watched the continuing exchange of emotions running across both Charles' face and Jean's. From the looks on their faces, whatever they were saying to each other was probably left inside their minds. Anything else would probably turn his blue ears pink.
~~~ T B C ?! ~~~
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