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 boys red face.
"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 agaisnt 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
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
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
"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 lullaby 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
"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 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
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
ya spill it, you 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
"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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