(Note: All Marvel chars are sole property of Marvel exclusively, including Polaris, Havok, the X-Men, and whatnot. Mitchell, however, is mine. Archiving is fine, as long as you tell me where my baby is going. No pop-up or MiST.)
Lorna knew something was wrong with her son even before he cried out. She 'felt' it, deep inside her body, in a way that was both unreal and completely natural. She could 'feel' his body calling out to her, she could 'feel' his need for her presence and love.
She tumbled out of bed, making it to the hallway in time to hear his first whimper and cry. She fumbled with her bathrobe, and pushed her mop of chautrese hair from her eyes as she hurried down the hall.
Mitchell sat up in bed, half-awake, half-asleep, still completely disoriented and frightened. The little boy whimpered and brushed away several glistening tears, the dim shadows of his nightmare already fading by the time his mother flicked on his light.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Lorna asked, rubbing her still sleepy eyes as she approached her son's bed.
Mitch snuffled and pressed his favorite toy, a large stuffed dog his father had sent him for Christmas, to his chest. He leaned forward into his mother's comforting embrace, relieved that she was here.
Mitch was never afraid when his mother was around. Never. She was an X-Man, and a mutant, and the seven year old was of the firm conviction that there was nothing on this earth--not ghosts, not monsters, not demons, real or imaginary--that his mother couldn't drive off. He was very rarely afraid to go to sleep at night when she was home, which was why Lorna was so surprised at his nightmare.
Mitch cuddled up to his mother's body, resting agaisnt her frame. "I... I had a bad dream."
Lorna cooed and wiped away a tear from the little boy's red face. "What happened?"
"I... I was falling... and I couldn't fly. Y'know, like you taught me. I couldn't. I couldn't feel the powers." Lorna smiled at 'the powers'--her son's name for the magnetic fields he could manipulate.
"I'm sorry honey. It's all right, I'm here, and it was all a bad dream." She pressed a gentle but firm kiss to his forhead. "Do you want me to stay in here for a little while?"
Mitch sniffled, and wrapped his arms around her neck. "Yeah."
Lorna clambered into the bed--a twin, but a roomy twin--and snuggled up to her son. With but a flick of her finger, she turned on the little T.V. set that she'd installed (with Forge's help) last year. Mitch leaned his small head agaisnt her shoulder, and she rested her chin on the top of his own mop of green hair. As they watched a late, late (2:00 am) marathon of Looney Toons, she felt her child relax, until his heartbeat was no longer a jack hammer agaisnt her chest.
Glancing down, she smiled, a twig of his hair tickling her nose, as she saw his green eyelashes start to drop. Eventually, they were resting against his cheek, his mind blissfully oblivious to the raucous argument Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd were ingaged in.
Lorna relaxed herself, clicking through the channels as she searched for something worth viewing. She finally settled on an old MacGuyer episode, which she watched with only half a mind to MacGuyer's escapades.
She could feel the slow, warm breath of her son agaisnt her neck, and a contented smile spread across her face. He was so young... so innocent. She knew from experience that couldn't possibly last much longer. Sometimes, she wished she could just freeze time, just for a little while, to let him stay like this a bit longer.
She sighed and began flipping the channels again as MacGuyver ended.
She loved her son. How could she not? He knew her better than anyone could possibly know her. She had created him inside her, felt him grow within her body--felt him in ways other mothers could only dream about. Jean had once compared their bond to the psionic one the red-headed telepath shared with her own daughter, Rachel. But Jean didn't know the half of it. The connection Lorna shared with her little boy went far beyond just feeling or emotions--it went to the very core of both their beings. It was something Lorna had never expected, and something she wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
Lorna paused at a music channel. A nice, soft, romantic song was on, and she allowed herself a bit of a guilty pleasure in listening to it.
She could still remember the looks on their faces the day she told them she was pregnant. The responses had ranged from shock, to outright anger, to amusement.
"How could you, Lorna?" Jean had asked her in complete shock, "How.. how..."
"Sounds like somebody got 'im some in Genosha." Gambit had snickered--or at least he did until Rogue socked him over the head.
It wasn't like Polaris had expected the X-Men to be blase about it--in fact, she was startled they took it as well as they did, considering.
Lorna shook her head quickly, then flipped the channels again. Jerry Springer--no. And X-Rated movie--NO!
Lorna sighed, and flipped off the T.V. Leaning down, she kissed the top of her son's head, and carefully slid out of the bed so as not to wake him.
The worst... the worst hadn't happened till Alex came home. They had discovered that he was in another dimension when she was 5 months along, and she worried and fretted about what she should tell him all the way up to the day he got home.
It had been Jean who'd called her, in the middle of the night, to tell her he was home.
Alex was home.
He'd come back.
But he hadn't come alone.
She'd gotten to the X-Mansion the next day, 8 months along and two sizes bigger than a train wreck. She hadn't been able to stop trembling the entire time, and she was short of breath.
What would he think?
What could he possibly think?
She'd walked into the living room, clutching Jean's hand, half in fear, half in panic.
And he was... was...
The greek woman. Elektra. The *other* Elektra, the Elektra of the universe he'd escaped from.
And the boy...
A little blond haired boy, who looked so much like Alex that she wanted to cry.
And he'd turned around to see her, and Lorna swore she'd never seen someone's jaw hit the floor that fast before.
"L-Lorna." he stammered, blinking hard.
"What... what-- "
"Hello Alex." she'd said, the biggest--and fakest--smile on her face she'd ever smiled. "It's good to see you again."
Lorna padded down the hallway to her room, gulping down a fist sized knot in her throat as she did so. Alex had--Alex had a new family. A woman he loved. And a son. Scotty.
He and the *other* Elektra had gotten married a year later, and not long after that they were blessed by a baby girl.
She shook her head and tried to put all thoughts of Alex from her mind. It was over. Completely over. He and the *other* Elektra were perfectly happy now, with little Scotty and Persephone.
Lorna pulled off her bathrobe and hung it on a peg. She ran her sweaty fingers through her hair, twisting a strand of light green hair about her fingers. It wasn't like she was lonely. Far from it! She had Mitchell, and after X-Factor reformed she'd joined them, and Bobby...
Bobby had probably been the most hurt when she told everyone of her pregnancy. But he didn't let it show--he'd visited her in the hospital when Mitchell was born, and he was the first person she let hold the infant. She could still vividly remember that night, when she, after the exhausting labor, had drifted off to a dreamless sleep, high on epidurals, with Bobby cooing a lulaby to Mitchell in the background.
Lorna snuggled into her queen sized bed, and pulled the patchwork quilt over her, tucking it under her chin to wrap herself in it like a caterpiller in its cocoon.
Bobby... she needed to talk with Bobby... Lorna quickly resolved to call him up tomorrow morning, first thing, and ask him if he'd like to go lunch or something.
And with the thought of that on her mind, she drifted off into a sound slumber.
"HmmMMmmhHHmm." Mitch hummed to himself as he twirled his spoon around in his bowl of cereal--without touching it. He loved his powers, and he loved showing off. Pretty soon, he thought to himself, I'll be so good and strong at this that I can pick up cars and things--just like Momma!--and I can join the X-Men, or maybe the Avengers...!
"Hi honey." Lorna said cheerfully as she bustled into the kitchen, buttoning up her blouse.
"Hi Momma!" her son chirped. Lorna did a double take as she looked back to see Mitch levitating a spoonful of cereal into his open and waiting mouth.
Well, will ya lookit that, she thought to herself, putting her hands on her hips, he didn't even spill anything!
"Careful with that!" she piped up as he chewed the mouthful, "If you spill it, you'll haveta clean it up!"
"Yes Momma." Mitch responded, taking the spoon in his hand.
Lorna flipped on the morning news as she strolled from the kitchen to the Living Room, musing that her son was really going to need some proper training soon....
"And this morning, reactions are mixed on the demise of mutant terrorist Magneto." an overly madeup newswoman said, "He apparently died this morning due to complications with lung cancer."
Lorna froze, turning very slowly to look at the television, her heart-beats nearly drowning out the woman's voice.
"Magneto was seen by some as a vicious terrorist, intent on enslaving humanity." the woman prattled on, as stock footage of Magnus flipping tanks into the air rolled, "But to others, even his long-time enemies, the X-Men, he was simply a misguided freedom fighter."
Lorna felt a knot rising in her throat, and harsh tears stung at her eyes.
"As of this broadcast, the U.N. has not yet made any annoucement concerning leadership of Genosha, the country Magneto ruled up until the time of his death." the newswoman picked up a stack of papers. "In other news, the Dallas Cowboys recently signed quaterback Michael Riddick to a contract--"
Lorna flipped of the television, then sank slowly into the deep, soft seats of her couch.
"Hey Momma." Mitch chirped as he trotted in, only to see her sitting, her head downcast.
"What's wrong?" his childish voice was filled with concern as he saw his mother's distraught face.
Lorna turned slowly, favoring him with a wavering smile. Her son, his dark green hair broken by a strip of white, stood next to her, clutching the stuffed dog his father had sent him for Christmas.
She drew in a shakey breath, and quickly batted away a tear.
"Momma" he whispered, touching her arm, "What's wrong? Did you have any nightmares too?"
She bit her lip, forcing back the stream of tears. And then, in a soft but trembling voice:
"No honey. I didn't."
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