Sins of the Father

Sins of the Father Chapter Thirteen (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta... *glompy-ness * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are squishy goodness for Archiving/Hosting (and Dracena, your slash is almost done!) ProPhile: Just say no to casual glomps. Morgan: *Not so casual glomp * Readers/Reviewers: Thank you sooooooooo much! *twirly dance of thanks *


She honestly did not care what was going on back at the Institute. She had been too numb for too long to muster anything more than token responses and keep a façade of caring. Storm barely noticed the verdant woods whipping past the car windows as she sped down the narrow highway, heading for the mountains. She needed, she thought, to reconnect to that which had made her. Her stomach fluttered as she thought of the dual purpose for her trip, the secret purpose held close to her heart and the one she had given the Professor, the one she knew was flawless and true but still not entirely honest. "I just need to get away for a few days, be one with The Mother again...it has been too long since I have seen the Bright Lady without distraction."
The Professor had smiled and agreed, not bothering to point out she had never needed to do so before, that her connection was so strong she could find the Mother anywhere and everywhere. "Of course..." he had murmured, rifling through his desk drawer and producing a thick packet and a map. "I have several hundred acres in the mountains..." He passed her the folder and the map. "The permits are all in order. You won't be disturbed. Take as much time as you need."
She had paused and looked at the thick manila folder in her hands, the map paper clipped neatly to the top. "Charles..."
"I thought maybe you could use a vacation. You just asked before I could suggest."
Now, as she drove even faster down the blacktop road, she sighed inwardly. He had to have known, she thought. But she was glad he had lied. The turn off to the property was coming up so she slowed, looking for the stone marker indicating the dirt road. She saw it a second too late and slammed on the brakes, hissing a curse in her mother tongue. The skid started imperceptibly. She barely noticed it until she tried to turn the steering wheel and found it locked. The entire thing happened in a matter of seconds, the world strangely silent as it began to turn then rush around her. She felt rather than heard the crunch of the gravel at the edge of the road under the car tires, smelled the wet green pine smell as the window cracked, her forehead splitting and bleeding as it impacted the windshield. She held her breath until it was over, the car rocking gently on it's side. She wanted to be ill but swallowed the fear. _I am a goddess. This holds no control over me. _ She closed her eyes for a long moment and willed the pain into submission, willed her human fear away. Slowly, laboriously, she worked her way out of the car, cutting her arms and sides on the jagged glass. Only when she was free did she allow herself to be dizzy. The earth had never felt better against her skin as she pressed her face to the pine needle carpeted ground. Something felt very wrong in her head, in her ribs and stomach. Her toes felt strange, she thought, and her fingers. She wanted very much to take a nap.
"Don't sleep here, Storm," a soft voice said near her feet.
She opened one eye to see a vaguely familiar form. "I know you," she breathed. "Where?"
"You are lucky. We were leaving..." The man, oddly formed and obviously a mutant, took one long stride to stand at her head before lowering himself to his knees. "Very lucky indeed."
The name came to her then. "Caliban." She sighed and felt like melting into the ground. "Why are you here?" She halfway thought that she did not actually care, that she just was talking to keep awake, but the other part of her was honestly curious and suspected a rat.
Caliban smiled his little used smile and laid a hand on her bleeding forehead. "That is nothing to worry about here." He looked past her at someone else and nodded. "We will take care of you."
"Hospital?" she suggested. She detested Western medicine but knew it had a place and felt, quite possibly, she had reached said place. "Maybe with painkillers?"
"We have something better," his tired voice intoned. "Don't move."
Storm decided she was happy to oblige. She let her eyes close again and felt as if her body were becoming very light. The usual thrumming current of power she had felt every day of her life suddenly seemed distant, frightening her. She tried to grasp it, to pull it back to her, but the sticky trickle of blood running down her face seemed to be sapping it away. She knew it was not the case, per se, but her head ached to think of any other analogy. Her body was gently touched and caressed, a purely clinical sensation with no sexuality behind it at all. Her head lolled back against nothing, it seemed, and she thought of Logan. She had been cool to him for weeks but he had not flagged in his devotion. A wash of hot guilt nearly drowned the nascent pain but it was not enough. Thinking of Logan made her head ache almost as much as thinking of Evan did. She was not sure what was happening to her but she felt something hard beneath her and then cool stone against her cheek. She realized she had been moved and was drifting in and out of consciousness. "I have to stay awake," she muttered thickly.
"Shhhh...it's okay Aunt Ro... I'm here..."