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gfgfg DISCLAIMER: Don't own X-Men, Don't own Charmed Characters.  Wish I did, though. 

The main players of this story are Storm,  and the charmed ones, Phoebe, Pru, and Piper.  There are some others…mwa ha ha…but mostly Storm.  I am a Storm junkie.

This is set in the Charmed world before Phoebe told everyone Cole wasn't really vanquished, and before he visited her.  Also, just pretend that the Triad hasn't been killed yet, either.  Some of the X-Man history is a bit different, but, hey, it's my fic.  Deal with it.  It is an AU.  Imagine the X-Men as movieverse characters, though, because, well, they're all a lot more attractive that way.   Please, please review because this was my first fanfic ever (even though it's not the first one I've finished) , I need feed back, and if you don't, I seriously think that I may cry.  Feedback can be sent to magdalena134@hotmail.com . REVIEW IT.

                                                            ON THE WALL

                                                                        Part I

Ororo sighed, and let a small smile carve it's way into her face.  She finally had some free time.  Her schedule hadn't allowed time for anything lately, and she had somehow managed to free up an entire hour, to do absolutely nothing.  Storm had chosen to do two of her favorite activities; reading, and being cloth-free.  Of course, she would have preferred to be nude outside, but too many people were taking advantage of the nice weather to take strolls, and Storm had no desire to mortify them with the image of a naked, flying, weather goddess.  So, instead, here she was, sitting in a large, coffee colored armchair, bathrobe at her feet, and large book in her lap.  She began reading. 

After a while, Ororo looked up from her thick book, filled with pictures of the Serenghetti.  - feeling a bit of nostalgia?- a voice whispered into her ear.  Storm turned, her hands grasping the book.  Nothing. 

"I must be hearing things," she murmured to herself as she reopened the book and flipped through a couple pages.  It had been too long since she had been back home to Africa, to visit her tribe and Mijarobi.  Although New York was nice, it paled in comparison to her native land, where the air could slice through your lungs as you laughed along with it, letting it play with your hair and lift your body further and further away from the ground…-oh goddess- Storm thought with a smile, -the wind is turning me on- -and why shouldn't it???- the voice was back.

 Storm jumped up, out of her overly stuffed armchair and looked about the attic.  "Who are you?  Jean, is that you?  Are you playing some sort of game?" she called out, not too loudly.  After all, if it turned out to be nothing, she didn't want her fellow teammates riding her of being afraid of the dark, or some other ridiculous idea they would soon think of.  Storm could almost hear Wolverine laughing and saying, "Aww, the lady can control nature, but wets herself without her lil' blankee." 

Storm quietly put the book down on the arm of the chair and went to investigate the partially finished attic.  "Hello?" she called out, as she moved past the wood floors and onto the rickety rafters.  Two light gusts of wind helped her keep her balance as she continued to search. 

-over here-

Storm's head jerked as she nearly lost her balance.  She looked to where the voice had come from this time.  Over by her chair again.  "Jean, this is a very childish prank.  I am in no mood to deal with this now, so please desist, or I will be forced to stop you." 

-stop me, how-

Storm rolled her eyes.  Jean's usually not this immature.  Oh well, maybe it's her time of the month and she's just blowing off some of the steam that is directed at Scott.  With that thought, Storm decided to go along with Jean's little charade, because, hey, Scott was nice and all, but sometimes he could be, to use some of Wolverine's favorite terminology, a real dick.

-Stop me how, I ask-

She turned, hearing the voice from somewhere else now.  "Well, Jean, I have a little habit of embodying the powers of our Mother Earth, and all her natural forces.  I swear, Jean, if you're just doing this because you're bored, you are in for such a butt kic…" 

-you have powers?  That'll make this even better-

-to my right- Ororo turned quickly, and caught a glimpse of her assailant before she fell, banging her head on the rafters, and falling through the weak ceiling.

                                                                       

***

Piper Halliwell was in the kitchen of the manor, arranging some roses in a vase.  Roses Leo, her fiancee had given her.  Phoebe waltzed down the stairs and paused, admiring the new floral arrangements. 

"Nice flowers.  Who're they from?" 

"Take a wild guess, Phebes." 

"So Davy Jones finally did answer all your fanmail." 

"Ha ha.  As a matter of fact, I am past the Davy Jones stage of my life.  They're from Leo.  He's such a great guy, I usually wonder how I ended up with him."

 "Me too," Prue called, as she closed the front door.  She had just gotten home from a photo shoot, but her hair suggested otherwise.  Like maybe she had just returned from the Hundred Year War.

 "What's with your.." Piper began, while Phoebe sat down at the table, picking up a magazine.

 "Don't ask.  Let's just say photographing monkeys in their natural environment turned out to be a big no-no.  You don't even want to know what this brown stuff on my shirt is, and I'll give you a hint, it ain't eye

shadow." 

"Oh, here, let me look at that," Piper said, leaving the roses semi-arranged to inspect her sister's defiled shirt.

 "So do you think maybe some club soda'll take it out?" Prue asked. 

"Hmm.  Well…"

Phoebe flipped a page in the magazine, letting her sisters' conversation float past her.  There was this really great picture of a sunset, in Africa she guessed, and it was just what she needed for a project she was doing.  Thinking about Africa caused a fresh, new premonition.  A fresh, new, intense one.  A lady, a beautiful lady with white hair, being surrounded by black, dark, dark light, falling, falling, falling…

"Uh, guys?" Phoebe called out, her voice very shaky. 

"Just a minute," both sisters called back.  They had just discovered the possibility of making a certain white lighter magically remove the stain.

 -here it goes again- More falling, she kept falling.  It kept getting hotter, and the wind wanted to break her body apart, the rain, the rain was raining blood, so much blood, the blood was laughing at her, and there was blood all over the..

"Roses!!" Piper screamed, rushing to the kitchen table.  The vase lay shattered, and the rose petals had all fallen off and shriveled, while the thorns seemed to have doubled in size. 

"Phoebe, did you do this?"

Phoebe looked down at the roses. -blood roses- "Maybe, while I was busy having a premonition."  She rubbed her wrist, where a small bruise was forming.  Before Pru could ask where it came from, Phoebe cut her off.  "It was the wind and rain.  I saw a woman, and she looked like she was in a lot of trouble.  I think," Phoebe added, "I think she's in New York."

                                                            ***

"Gambit will see your five, and raise you ten," the Cajun said, shoving a few more chips to the large pile growing in front of him.  He loved playing cards with Wolverine and Cyclops.  It was entertaining and easy to win at. 

"I'm out," Cyke said, throwing his cards down.  Gambit smiled. 

"Hey, don't look too happy, Gumbo, you still got me to deal with, and unless the angel of the swamp rats flies down to help you, you ain't gotta prayer." 

As if on cue, a tremendous crash was heard, followed by clouds of plaster dust flying in the air.  Wolverine felt a very solid thud in the card table, and on his right hand.  When the dust had finally settled, the three mutants looked down to see a very unconscious and very naked Storm.  Very naked, and very beautiful, even though she was covered with a fine coat of dust.  Wolverine grunted, disgusted at his thought, and threw the purple satin robe that had fallen down with her over her body. 

"Stormy?" Gambit asked, approaching her face and gently lifting up her eyelids.  "She look like she knocked out.  And she bleeding pretty bad on the back of her head." Gambit said, noticing her white hair turning a shade redder.  Wolverine gently pulled his arm out form under her, and noticed that it, like her hair, was covered in blood.

"Cyclops, call Beast.  She needs to get some medical attention now," Wolverine said, putting his hand back to where it had been.  -at least this might stop some of the bleeding-   Wolverine grimaced as another thought occurred to him.  -and there sure seems to be a lot of it.-

                                                            ***

"New York?" Pru asked, sticking a paper towel under the sink.  "I thought these premonitions were supposed to be local."   Pru applied the towel to Phoebe's rather large and purplish bruise.  Phoebe shifted in her chair and let the cool water attempt to heal her skin. 

"Yeah, well, evil is as evil does.  At least this way we can all have a little vacation, eh?" she asked, her eyes slightly gleaming.  Phoebe had spent a while in New York, and god help her, but she had fallen for that sparkling city of lights and hookers, almost as hard as she had fallen for…

Pru twisted a strand of her hair.  "Well, I still think we should, I don't know, make sure it is New York, because, even though it'd be great to go, work is just kinda hectic right now…" 

"What," Piper intervened, sweeping up some of the shards of broken glass, "are you scheduled to have some more feces thrown at you tomorrow?" 

"For the second time this day, ha ha." 

"Welp, the smart thing to do right now would be to talk to Leo about this.  Maybe he and his white lighter buddies know what we should do," Phoebe said, eyeing for the first time the monkey crap on her sister's shirt.  "And by the way, god help you if Leo can't get that out." 

"I come home and now I'm living with a bunch of bad comedians.  Great, great.  Leo, Hey Leo, we need you." Pru called out, tucking a strand of her raven hair behind her ear.  In a few seconds the kitchen was filled with a blue light and a distant sound of chiming as Leo orbed in. 

"Hey guys, hey sweetie," he said, putting an arm around his fiancee and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.  "What do you need?"  His eyes caught the remains of his roses.  "What happened?" 

"Phoebe just had a vision.  A pretty urgent and violent vision, which kinda ended up killing your gift to me, but I really liked them, before they died." 

"Anyway," Pru continued, "Phoebe said it had to do with New York and, and, wait, Phebes, what else was in it, you never really said." 

"Maybe that's because I haven't been given the opportunity." -sheesh, it's my vision for crying out loud, and they're talking about it like it's their own!- She took a breath to compose her feelings.  "I saw a lady, African American, with white hair.  For one second, her eyes were blue, and then they turned white, and then, black., but the black wasn't just in her eyes, it was every where.  It was, it was, ubiquitous!!  Aha, so ninth grade vocab class does pay off!" Phoebe put a hand over her bruise and looked at it for a moment in reverence.  She should be taking this much more seriously.  "But this blackness, it was so cold, so, evil.  And that's when she started falling, with blackness enveloping her, but the wind and the rain started up, and it was like they were trying to kill her, to kill me.  I mean, I could feel it, all of it.  And then the rain, it turned from water into blood, deep red blood that ran onto our body, and it seemed to be laughing.  Then she hit the floor, and," Phoebe paused.  All their eyes were on her intently, with no mention of monkey crap or anything else.  "and that's when the premonition stopped." 

There was a silence after Phoebe finished talking.  Pru looked down at the floor and silently thought to herself a thought that usually made her feel guilty. -I'm glad I'm not the one who got stuck with the power of premonition- Piper looked at Leo, who had kept his gaze on Phoebe. 

"Well, Phoebe, it sounds like your power is growing stronger, and that's a good thing.  The bad thing is, it sounds like this woman is in trouble.  Why do you think she's in New York?"  Phoebe swallowed as she thought about her answer. 

"Well, I, uh, I forgot to mention to you guys that I saw, in the background before all the black came, that she was standing by the, ummm" -dammit, phoebe, think think of monuments, you friggin lived there- "statue of liberty.  Ya know, the robed lady holding a torch?"  She tried to laugh it off, trying to show that nothing was wrong. 

"That seems like a pretty good indicator to me.  And now that you mention it, some  of the elders were mentioning a few things about New York to me.  It seems that a few of the upper class demons, some in direct work with the Triad, are setting up shop in New York." 

Phoebe perked up.  "Which would definitely explain why my premonition was about New York!" -I just love it when things work out to my advantages. He he he-

"Ok, but why New York?" Pru asked, pulling up a chair next to her sister. 

"It looks like the forces of evil have finally found out that a lot of the forces of good live in California.  The Charmed ones, and the vampire slayer both live here, I guess they figured it might be safer to not live within a hundred mile radius of the bay area."

"Well, duh." 

                                                            ***

"How is she doing?" Jean asked, glancing at some of Storm's monitors. 

"Her vitals have peeked up tremendously in the last half hour, which is a positive sign, but she still seems to be in a comatose state." Beast said, taking a look at the same monitor that Jean had been looking at, only to scribble down a few notes on his clip board.  "My question is, what happened to her.  From what I've gathered, Storm was in the attic reading a book, when she abruptly made an entrance into the boys' poker game." 

Jean sighed as she looked at Storm's battered body in such a death-like state.  "That's all I know, too.  The only explanation I can find is that she simply fell through the part of the attic that hasn't been finished yet, but," she looked up at Beast, "I find it hard to believe that she'd be so careless." 

"Perhaps she was careless.  Wolverine rather pointedly informed me that she was *eh hem* unclad when they found her, and we all know that interesting habit she has." 

Beast was referring to a fact all the X-Men knew; Storm had many past times, but two of her favorites, besides reading, were being nude and dancing.  Jean had asked her about why she danced once a few years back, and Storm had replied, "I only do what is natural to me.  I was born with the rhythms of my Mother pulsating through my body, not with clothes upon my back and walking to the beat of western society." 

"Well, that's a good theory, Beast, but the boys' said they didn't hear any noises coming from the attic before hand, and you know how she likes to thump her feet around to keep time." 

Beast blushed, being the prudent one he is, at hearing Jean talk about the subject that he found, to say, not suited for discussion.  "I see.  Has the possibility of an attack been considered?" 

"That thought had occurred to the Professor already.  He's in Cerebro, scanning for abnormal mutant activity in the area.  There's also the possibility that this was an FOH attack, but still, human or mutant caused, our alarms would have gone off if any unauthorized person had entered the mansion."  Beast nodded in agreement with Jean, and he quietly put his clipboard down on a table by Storm's bed.    He moved next to Jean, and copied her actions by gazing intently on Storm.  "I guess we've done all we can.  The only thing left to do is wait and hope Ororo will use the will power we know she has and pull herself out of this coma."  Jean looked down at her own hands, capable of such power but useless when it came to manners like this, and answered Beast in a quiet voice. 

"Yeah.  I guess that really is all we can do."

                                                                        ***

                                                                       

The Halliwell sisters had booked a flight from San Francisco to New York a few minutes after the girls had cleared up their schedules for the next week.  Pru took her seat on the left of Piper with a disgruntled look on her face. 

"Pru, why so happy?" Piper asked, her focus clearly not on her sister, but the minute bag of deliciously salted peanuts before her that refused to open. -damn peanuts, but yet, so sweet-

"Why am I so happy, Piper?  I'm so happy because I just had to cancel two photo shoots with two equally very important people, all so I could go to New York and chase after some girl with a bad dye job." Pru whispered angrily, pausing for a brief moment to smile as a stuartess walked down their isle. 

"Um, miss?  Would you care for a beverage.  Y'all know what they say, a lil' alcohol calms the nerves, and the second glass is only 2.95"

Pru looked up, startled by the disruption of her venting.  "No thanks.  I'll stick with water." -wow, my manifest to Piper came off more bitter then I had intended it to.  Bitter enough to have beer thrown at me, anyway-

"Pru, you know I'm not too crazy about our, umm, special duty, but we have to do it."  The bag of peanuts flew open with a small pop, with its tasty morsels hitting Piper in her face.  Piper took a deep breath and tried to count to ten. -one, I hate flying, two, I hate flying, three, I hate flying, aww, screw it- "Now, get yourself some damn alcohol," Piper hissed at her sister, raising her voice for her next statement, "and another bag of peanuts!" 

Phoebe lifted one corner of her sky blue eye mask to take a peek at her now annoyed sisters.  Pru was berating a stuartes while Piper dismally tried to pick peanuts out of her hair.  With the movement of her sly finger, Phoebe slid the eye mask back into place and turned up the volume on her head phones.  The angry grunts and groans coming from her sisters were soon replaced with the plethora of vocals from Lorena McKennit.  Phoebe readjusted herself in her chair, leaning her head against the window of the plane. -he he, I always get the window seat, even when I have a mask over my eyes-   

The sleek if not past retirement airplane cut through the warm, California skies as Phoebe remained in her position, motionless, letting her thoughts run wild with the music she listened to. 

-Cole-

It was the one word that always seemed to be on her mind, etched into her brain.  She thought about him whenever she breathed, whenever she yawned, even when she was doing purely unromantic things, like clipping her toenails.  He was always in her mind, and she didn't know if she really minded.

 -Cole, Cole, can you here me?  Or can Balthazar hear me?  I don't know how much longer I can keep this up…lying to my sisters and Leo about vanquishing you is just too hard, too much for one person to handle.-

Phoebe recalled something Cole had once told her, while they were over at his place.  They had just finished making love, and they lay in his bed in a tight embrace.  She had asked him if he was keeping anything from him.  Phoebe recalled her exact words. 

"When I'm with you, it just feels like there's another part of you that I'll never touch, never be able to reach." 

"Does that frighten you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it.  I guess not really.  If it's a part of you, I guess I love it." 

"But if you don't, I won't hold it against you, Phoebe.  Sometimes people are forced into situations they…they don't exactly like, and at times it seems too hard to go on with." 

"Then how do you?  Go  on, I mean." 

Cole had looked down at her, his amber eyes devouring her face as he drew her closer to him.  He moved his lips close to her ear and tentatively whispered, "Because I have you to help me, and you have me." 

-I wish I had him now- she thought to herself, ripping her eye mask off.  She turned away from Piper and stared out the window, watching the sky and the clouds go by.  -but all I have are memories- she looked at a lake, shrouded with trees, that was reflecting the sunlight. -and hope-

                                                           

***

Her mouth was dry.  Very dry.  Her hair felt sticky against her skin, and her body felt extremely rigid.  Storm tried to roll over on her side, but her hip hit a cold, metal bar instead. Her eyes shot open. -I'm not in my room…so where am I- Using her hands, which seemed unusually slow, she grabbed the two cold rails and pulled herself into a sitting position.   She was in the infirmary, wearing a paper gown and lying in a bed that wouldn't have comfortably fitted a fourth grader.  She took that back. It wouldn't have been suitable for a third grader.  -how did I end up in here?  I was in the attic a moment ago, reading my book and then I heard a-

"Voice! The voice!" Ororo called out remembering what happened. 

-well, I'm glad to see that I've got a good memory- the voice was taunting Storm again.

 She craned her neck, trying to see where it had come from, when the thought hit her hard.

 -that's right, sweetie, I'm coming from your head.  Now if you'll just lie back and enjoy the ride, I'll take over from here- 

                                                                       

***

"Did you hear something?"  Cyclops asked Gambit, who was sprawled, upside down, on the couch with his head almost touching the floor.  The two had volunteered to watch over Storm while Beast took a much needed nap, but they couldn't stand just sitting and watching her lie unconscious, and not being able to do anything.  This had led to Gambit's "novel" idea of hanging out in the nearby rec room, and going in sporadically to check her vitals.

"Like what, mon ami?" Gambit pulled out an ace of spades and began running it through his fingers.  He didn't want people to know how worried he was about Storm.  He had never seen the goddess, his goddess, hurt like this, and that included the aftermath of battles with Magneto and all his baddies.  He and Storm went way back, to when they had been thieving partners in Louisiana.  She was probably his best friend at the mansion, and he didn't know what he'd do without her.  -eh, probably end up stealing the TV and leaving- 

"There I heard it again.  It sounded like Storm." 

"Stormy?"  Gambit tried to sit up, but only succeeded in slipping off the couch and banging his head on the floor.  "C'mon, Cyclops, we gotta go see!" 

The two rushed the few remaining feet to the infirmary door.  "I knew Stormy would be feelin' better in no time.  She's a fighter."

 Cyclops hit the entry button and the door slid open with a small mechanical whurr.  "She may be a fighter, Gambit, but I just hope she did make it out.  Beast said that if she doesn't wake up in a few more hours, she'll have brain damage." 

"Quite the contrary," Storm replied as they walked in the door.  "I've never felt so alive in my life." 

Storm was floating in the middle of the room, clad in a paper gown, examining her hands as her hair sparked with lightening. -so that white-haired bitch was right.  She does have powers.  I never could have imagined a mortal could have powers so strong….I believe they even surpass my own -

Both Gambit's and Cyclops' jaws dropped.  They had hoped for the best, but this was something they hadn't quite pictured. 

"Ororo, you'd better come down now.  You're still very weak after your fall, and Hank really should check you out before you engage with your powers anymore." Cyclops said, his eyes blinking with each snapping sound the lightening made.

  "My fall?  Oh yes, my fall.  It was," she did a little flip in the air, giving a spectacular view of her butt to a red in the face Cyclops and startled Remy, and giggled, "quite awful.  I probably almost died, judging on how hard my head hit those rafters." 

Gambit followed her with his eyes, as she flitted about the room like some sort of pixie.  "Listen to da man, Stormy.  You might feel good now, but tomorrow you wake up and say, 'ouch, I'm dead.  I should've listened to that nerdy Cyclops and that handsome Remy.'" 

Storm eyed the man that had just spoken.  "Remy, is it?  I suppose you're right.  Yes, yes, I'll come down now," she gracefully floated to the floor, letting her two dainty feet hit the smooth tile. "and you can take me back to my room, so I can get a good night's sleep." 

"Storm, it's three in the afternoon," Cyclops informed her, pointing at the slowly ticking clock on the wall. 

"Oh, shut the hell up.  I just got out of a friggin' coma.  Give me some credit.  Remy?" She asked, holding out her arm to be escorted.  "I believe I'm ready to retire now."

                                                                        ***

-master, it's me.  I'm in, and you were right, she is all you said.  Although I know you would never lie to me, I still found it hard to believe that she could be so powerful, but she is.  Everything is going fine, but she is putting up some resistance I've never seen with the others.  She's blocked off small parts of her mind to me; I don't know the names of the people here, or a few other minor details, but everything else is fabulous.  I did, however, manage to break down the wall that she built surrounding her past, and geez, it sure is an interesting one.  I've kept *her* mind busy by bombarding it with images of airplane crashes and small, tight, confined spaces.  I think she's having a hoot-

 -very good.  Just remember our deal.  If you follow out with your part, I'll follow out with mine-

-You are too kind, master.  Living in this body for the next eighty years or so is going to be wonderful.-

                                                                                               

That's all for now.  Like it?  Hate it?  Wanna violently assault me on the street because I've offended you?  Well, then leave a review, PLEASE!!!