M.I.A.
PART TWO
"Do you think I like this? I wish to god this wasn’t happening! But I’m not going to live in a fantasy world. I can’t. None of us can, for our sakes—but more importantly for Ame’s."
Scott lowered his voice at the end of his last sentence. It was true. In his heart he would love to deny all probability and relish in the idea that his long time friend Ororo was still alive somewhere out there. But the evidence to the contrary was overwhelming.
Their analysis of Storm’s com device did not serve to boost their spirits. If Storm had hit ground with even half speed with which the device had hit, she could not have survived it. And if by some divine miracle she had lived through the crash, she had been missing for nearly two weeks. The injuries she must have incurred, even in an absolute best-case scenario, would have killed her by this time.
"We can’t keep dragging that little girl along like this."
"So that’s it then. We just up and tell Ame her mom’s d—ead. Damn."
Though his back was to the door, he knew she had entered the room. Unfortunately the words were already out of Logan’s mouth.
"Ame…" Logan said turning around.
The small girl was standing in the doorway, her hand on the doorknob and the same blank look she’d been wearing for two weeks. Her green eyes moved across the faces present in the Professor’s office. Jean, Remy, The Professor, Scott, Hank, Sarah, then back to Logan.
"Uncle Logan, is my mom dead?"
"…I." Logan took a breath. "We—darlin’, it—it’s kinda startin’ t’look that way."
"Honey, we’ve looked everywhere." Jean said shaking her head. "We want to believe your mom’s okay, but it’s just too impossible to believe by this time. We’re so sorry honey."
Ame ran her silent eyes over the gathered once more.
"I understand." She said plainly with a nod. Then she left, closing the door behind her.
"Ohhh, that ain’t good." Sarah said crossing her arms.
* * * * *
Sarah sat on the floor of her room in the lotus position. Normally the young mutant would meditate around six or seven times a day, but as of late, she felt the need to increase those sessions. After she had been living in the mansion for several years, and had calmed down somewhat, Storm, and Logan had suggested an alternate means of possibly controlling her erratic bone growth. They had tried all the usual and most advanced training methods to no avail. Then Storm and Logan thought a more natural solution. Sarah’s body worked the same as everyone else’s. She had the same blood flow, nutrient flow, and energy flow. It was though if Sarah had more control over her own energies, she would be able to better control her bone growth. They were correct.
Sarah’s bones still needed to protrude somewhere, but after much practice, she was now able to direct them to more convenient places, usually the back of her bottom ribs and the top of her back. These places were out of the general way of thing and made for easy grabbing in a fight. More importantly to Sarah, she was now able to prevent the ugly bones from protruding out of her face. Still, Sarah still had a hot temper. It was just in her nature, and as a result she felt the need for these multiple daily sessions. When she was stressed or upset, she increased them.
There was a knock at the door.
"This better be good."
The door opened and Ame walked in. Sarah opened her eyes.
"Oh, hey squirt. Come on in. You okay?"
"I am fine."
She sat cross-legged across from Sarah.
"Sarah, can—may I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"You used to hate my mom, didn’t you. Before I was born I mean."
"…I—Well, that’s kinda complicated, kid. I thought I hated her."
"You thought you did? When did you stop?"
"… I think I stopped… when I stopped hating myself so much."
"Did my mom hate you back."
"Honestly… I don’t think your mom is… was capable of hating anyone. She could get angry like no body’s business, but she never hated. It took me a long time to figure out that was what made everyone love her so much. It wasn’t her looks, it was her heart."
"Oh."
"Why do ya ask?"
"…I just wanted to know. Thanks."
She got up and quickly went for the door.
"Ame wait—"
But she was already out the door.
* * * * *
The memorial service was held two days later. Old friends and new were in attendance, some of whom Ame had never seen before. There were few dry eyes.
Ame stood beside Logan holding his hand and quietly staring up at the beautiful portrait of her mother that Colossus had painted. She didn’t cry.
Afterwards, she quickly became tired of all the sympathetic apologies and pitying looks she received from all the guests.
She went up to her mother’s attic apartment. When she no longer required a crib, Ame had been given her own bedroom close to the bottom of the attic stairs. In her own space, but close enough to run up to her mother’s bed, should her nightmares get too scary.
Ame had been spending a great deal of time up here in the last two weeks. In the greenhouse area she would sit among the tall plants and flowers and remember being in this same place and watching Storm tend to them. She would always sit quietly and pay close attention. She would watch Ororo speak softly to the plants as she cared for them. Ame knew exactly how much sunlight and how much water every plant needed.
Now, she picked up the water canister and filled it in the nearby sink. She started to water the plants.
Ten minutes or so later, Ame felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to stand up. Knowing that she was being watched, she froze. A moment later she went back to her watering. It could only be her Uncle Logan. No one else would be as quiet, and everyone else would be fawning over her asking her again and again "was she all right?".
In the shadows of the doorway, Logan let his eyes follow the small girl around. When she left and hadn’t returned to the gathering downstairs, he’d gone to check on her. At the moment, Logan wanted nothing more than to pick Ame up in a hug and make certain nothing could harm her and that she felt safe and secure. But he knew that Ame had to work through some things on her own first. She’d let him know when she needed him.
Ame put the canister down and sat amongst the flowers again. Logan nodded slightly to himself and left. She would be okay for now.
* * * * *
It was just after one thirty in the morning when Wolverine dragged himself up to bed. It had been a very long day and an extremely emotionally draining one at that. He had put Ame to bed several hours ago. She had said very little, but he could tell that her mind was racing.
Wearing a T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, Logan lay staring at the ceiling for nearly a half-hour before the drowsiness of sleep found him.
His eyes had only been shut a few minutes when the screaming began.
Logan tumbled out of bed and onto the floor. Untangling himself from the sheets, he bolted into the hallway and down to Ame’s room. His room was not the closest, but with his determination and the fact that several members of the family had decided to spend the sad evening elsewhere, Logan reached her first.
He flung the door open. Ame was on her bed kicking and screaming and flailing her arms about.
"Iwantmymommy!Iwantmymommy!Iwantmymommy!Iwantmymommy…!"
Ame’s arm was hitting against the wall and the bedpost. Logan tried to get near her and was subsequently kicked in the side. He tried again and managed to grab the girl’s arms and position himself in a way that her kicks would be ineffective. Ame was still sobbing and fighting. Her eyes had been clenched tight, but sensing that someone had her, she allowed them to open. Ame flung herself towards him and wrapped her arms tightly around her uncle, almost burring her face in his chest.
"Please! Please, Uncle Logan! Please bring my mommy back! Please make her come back!" She begged in-between sobs. There were no more tears as Ame’s cries were now more like dry heaves. She could barely catch her breath and she was beginning to hiccup.
"Please, bring her back! I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll never do anything bad again! I’m sorry! I promise. Just make her come back, please!"
Wolverine, who had pulled Ame onto his lap held on to her tightly. He looked up to the shadows who were now standing in the doorway. Kitty had her hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t stop her tears. Rogue did the same. Hank lowered his head and moved away from the doorframe. Remy looked down to his left as Logan heard a young voice quietly ask "Daddy what’s happening?". Remy leaned over and picked Jerri up. He took her back to her room. The Professor arrived. He raised his head slightly in question and Wolverine shook his. The Professor nodded in understanding. This was a non-mutant type of mental communication. One shared among people who understood each other. The Professor ushered the rest of the X-Men away from the door, took another look in the room and then headed back to his own. Logan wanted to handle this on his own for now.
Ame barely had a voice now.
"Please… I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again. I promise. I’m sorry…"
"You’ll never do what again, darlin’?"
"I’m sorry. I’m sorry."
"Sweetie, this wasn’t your fault."
"I’m sorry…"
Logan realized that in her whispered voice, Ame wasn’t talking to him anymore. She was starting to shake from all the crying. He picked her up in a blanket and carried her over to a rocking chair.
He sat and rocked her until, from exhaustion and crying, Ame finally fell asleep. Then he held her until morning.
* * * * *
"…Arashi… Arashi wake up. It’s time to open your eyes."
"Hmm?"
"Wakey, wakey."
"Hm… Wha— Who…?"
"Rise and shine."
"Ra… ow!"
"Easy, easy. No fast movements."
"…Rafe?"
"Hi, beautiful."
"You… are not really here. You cannot be real…"
"Does that matter? You think I’m here. That’s what’s important."
"But… why…?"
"Well, I could ask you the same thing… Why you’re laying in a swamp, that is."
She looked around herself. She was indeed lying in a swamp, her legs partially submerged in the muddy water. She was lying in the mucky ground, partially sunk in. She looked around her and saw tall drooping trees.
"Where am I?"
"I just told you. You’re in a swamp. And you need to pull yourself out of here."
"…It hurts too much… moving."
"I know. But you’ve got to pull yourself out of here."
"I… can’t."
"Of course you can. Just take it slow. You’re not alone. ...I’m
not going anywhere…"
To Be Continued…
Just getting’ started! stormgate@hotmail.com