A/N:

Long and behold, I decided to bring back the Peace in Our Time reflections, this time for volume 2. These short character vignettes help furthermore with character development in between volumes. These reflections will cover Storm, Angel, Iceman, Cecilia, Wolverine, and Rogue. Storm's are up first.

Be sure to REVIEW, and be sure to stay posted for when I post volume 3 of Peace in Our Time, which will be titled Peace in Our Time: Technological Decimation. What that title means, you will just have to wait and see. Volume 3 will be posted January 26th, 2020, which means we will be kicking off the New Year right, my friends!

Ororo Munroe (takes place after issue 40):

The pungent odors of the New York City sewers located underneath Times Square were not the most ideal scents to greet her nose. It was just as inconvenient needing to visit her cousin underneath the sewers.

However, that was the price that Ororo "Storm" Munroe had to pay if she wanted to visit her last, blood-related family member that she had left in her life.

Walking beside Evan in silence, Ororo struggled with finding the right words to say to her cousin. Hearing him tell her about how rough his childhood had truly been was something that weighed heavily upon her heart.

"If only I had known," Ororo told him as they continued to walk through the sewers. Somehow, she wasn't caring that the sewer water was soaking through her shoes and socks.

"You couldn't have. So, don't blame yourself for my fucked-up parents," Evan said.

It sounds so simple when Evan says that I shouldn't blame myself. However, I cannot help but feel a sense of guilt that he had to bear the burden of such a tumultuous childhood alone. Compared to how he grew up, I was practically treated like royalty, even though I had to live life like a street rat since I was twelve years old.

Ironically, it did not start off that way for me. I had been born to a background like that of Jean. My mother, Tamara, was a Nigerian immigrant who rose above short-comings of coming from a poor country to become a doctor who owned a private practice. My father, Carter, had been a first-generation Haitian who taught English at Penn State. They were well-off people, who raised me to be proud of my culture.

My parents' values of being proud of being two people of color got passed down towards me. They made sure that I understood I was fortunate to have parents who worked so hard to earn a piece of the American dream. They both worked so hard to provide me a life better than what my mother had, and what my father's parents had had. To this day, I continue to love them even more for that.

That was why the loss of them had hurt worse than anything I'd ever experienced. Jean told me once, and only once, what she had suffered through after losing her parents and being separated from her brothers and sisters. She'd only told me once, because I can only begin to surmise that it still hurts her too much to speak about it. Not that I can personally blame her, though. Neither one of us enjoys talking about our pasts and what we've experienced after losing our families. It's only a small part of what bonds the two of us together.

I still remember vividly what it had been like losing my parents. But the way things had been before would not have warned me to have time for any kind of preparation. When it did happen, though, it was almost like God himself decided that he was done allowing my parents to live their lives as two, American citizens working so hard to provide me something better. All it had taken was a simple plane ride to Egypt.

One would wonder why my parents and I were headed to Egypt, of all places in the world. However, my father had gotten offered a sabbatical to teach English in Cairo for a full year. The way he'd spoken to me and my mother about it, I can still remember the pure excitement that had been residing in his eyes. I understood even at age twelve how badly my parents wished for me to experience different cultures, even though I was born in America.

So, at the start of the summer before I began seventh grade, my parents and I were boarding a plane to go to Cairo. I still remember how excited I had been to board a plane for the first time in my life.

However, that was when it struck.

All it had taken was a horrible thunder storm erupting in the middle of Cairo that caused the plane to go crashing down into a nearby, abandoned house. It hadn't occurred to me until now that it was during that plane ride my mutation had fully manifested. I remember having had strange seizures, and up until now, I hadn't put two and two together. At the time, at age twelve, I hadn't been thinking logically when the thunderstorm rocked the plane containing me and my mother and my father. My emotions had been at such a high state that I wasn't thinking with my head.

Until then, nature has always been a comfort to me. I'd always been akin with nature, connected to it in ways that one couldn't begin to imagine. I find solace in attending to the flowers that I keep in my room at X-Corp. Just watching a flower simply bloom in the spring never fails to mesmerize me. The sweet smell, the vivid colors . . . I don't think there could be anything more beautiful than that. Nonetheless, when my powers manifested, it could have been my own anxiety that brought the storm. The head and the heart speak differently from one another, and they do not work well together. You head looks for knowledge. Your heart seeks to find the emotional connection.

My heart was telling me all that needed to be said, especially as the heavy winds and the lightning caused the plane's wings to catch ablaze. I remember the noxious smell of the flames filling my nostrils as the plane rocked hard before it crash-landed into the house below. All I remember was that before the plane fully crashed down, I'd gone towards the emergency exit of the plane and had jumped out, only to have the house the plane had crushed collapse on top of me. I remember how I screamed as the pieces of falling debris felt as though it were crushing me, making me feel as though I was sinking to the bottom of the earth.

Ororo couldn't help it as she felt her eyes beginning to water, but she brushed the unshed tears away that threatened to spill.

Thinking back to that moment never failed to rock her world all over again. The events that followed only made the situation ten times worse for her.

I don't remember much of what had happened after the crash. I can only assume that I'd blacked out.

All I remember, when I had awoken, was that I had been in a hospital in Cairo. I'd had a minor concussion and a few broken bones. Nonetheless, when the doctors told me that my parents hadn't survived the crash, it felt as though someone had grabbed my beating heart and pulled it out of my chest. All I knew was, I wasn't going to stick around and wait to get placed in an orphanage.

I'd taken the same approach that Scott had taken after he'd awoken from his coma after losing his family. I'd jumped out the window of the hospital, and I ran.

I ran until I couldn't run anymore. I remember to this day how my lungs had burned so badly, it felt as though they were being stabbed by the dry air that was screaming for moisture to come. I remember how the heat of the sandy roads hit the bare skin of my feet as they pounded down, until I finally found an abandoned house to take refuge in. Though I hadn't taken control over my mutation until the age of fifteen, when I had begun using it by means to steal food for me to eat. It was either that, or getting onto my hands and knees and begging for pity from someone.

I didn't want to have to give into wanting pity from anyone. So lied, cheated, and stolen in order to simply survive. I needed to be strong. I needed to be robust. I did what I had to do. I still do not have regrets about what I did by means of survival and just staying alive.

I cannot explain what it's like, living out there on the streets alone. The only thing that I was focused on was subsisting. I needed to shoulder the burden alone. I couldn't afford to enter a state of grief over the deaths of my parents. I couldn't allow myself to break down. That meant needing to develop a thick skin a change instantly. Using my powers of manipulating the air pressure to form up enough wind to steal things like money and food allowed me to be sneaky about it. There were so many moments that I was afraid of being caught by someone. I have no regrets about doing whatever necessary by means of survival.

The only regret I hold within my heart is having gotten involved with Ebony Apophis.

Ororo hid the shudder that threatened to make its way down her spine as she continued to walk with Evan through the sewers. Thinking about her time with the Shadow King never failed to bring her an uneasy sleep at night. It still haunted her deeply knowing that the Shadow King had had that much control over her. She'd been a lonely, vulnerable child, coping with powers that she was just mastering. It was probably the worst circumstance she could have ever gotten stuck in.

Ebony Apophis had found me when I was just started my life as a thief. He'd seen me out on the streets of Cairo, and saw potential in me for higher levels of thievery. Within the months of being underneath Apophis' control, I'd graduated from just stealing food, to stealing designer watches, hundreds of dollars, and other valuables. More often than not, he was unsatisfied with the amount of stolen goods I brought back to him.

As a result, whenever he was unsatisfied with the amount I brought back to try and prove myself to Apophis, he claimed he was the only one to give a damn about me. He'd put me through countless amounts of telepathic torture. Add to that, I had to endure beatings as well at his hands. He made sure to keep me under complete control, to the point where I was submissive. I became submissive, because he provided me room and board, for free, along with a few other thieves that were living in Cairo. He oftentimes used children, because we were so easy to manipulate. We were young, naive, and without family.

I didn't think that I would be able to escape the hell that was my life. Scott and I's lives were pretty close in comparison given that we were both living as homeless with someone making sure we were submissive to manipulation.

It was like God had given me a second chance when I had picked the pocket of Tony Stark.

Mister Stark and Professor Xavier very damn well could have turned me over to the authorities. Instead, they'd decided to try and help me. I remember that although Tony had at first been mad, I also remember having seen pity in his eyes. It had been Xavier who had freed me from Shadow King's grasp. It meant that I could simply go back to thieving simply for food by means to survive.

Nevertheless, I hadn't expected to have another run-in with the Shadow King again after two years of thinking that I had been freed from him.

When Shadow King had found me once again, it had been a huge shock to my system. I could hardly begin to believe that he had suddenly come back into my life. And when he decided in order to get revenge against me by manipulating me telepathically into thinking that Cairo was burning down, he was playing dirty.

All I'd remembered was a pure, paralyzing fear coursing through me as I'd watched the city that I'd called home for so many years burn down, at least in my mind. I'd done the only thing that I could possibly think to do, and that was summon a thunderstorm to try and put out the fire.

Little did I realize, I was drowning the city of Cairo and destroying it utterly. If it hadn't been for the professor arriving to my aid, and he and Jean Grey freeing me telepathically, I would have done a lot worse than just that.

Since then, I've grown grateful for the professor's kindness in offering me a future at X-Corporation.

Never once did I think that I would gain such amazing friendships in the likes of Jean Grey and Scott Summers.

From the moment I arrived, Jean, Scott and I hit it off immediately. Finding that I had so much in common with the both of them brought me a sense of comfort that I hadn't felt in years. They'd began to include me in their outings and introducing me to the world of social media and popular culture. Never once did I think that I could have friendships with anyone quite like them. They'd became, in the oddest of ways, family to me.

And recently, I watched as their friendship they'd had grown much stronger. This was especially noticeable after surviving the Savage Land.

Granted, we all had to rely on one another for just the simple notion of survival. But Scott and Jean seemed to be affected deeper given that they are growing even closer to each other. Truly, I am happy for the both of them, because if there's anyone who deserves a break at all, it's them. They truly are quality people deserving of something good for once, and I know that they will eventually wise up and admit that they feel a specific way about one another.

Everyone in the tower has taken notice. Of course, I notice a lot more given how well I know them both, and how much time I spend with them. They're two of my best friends.

Nonetheless, if there was one thing about this experience with the X-men that changed me was when I'd learned about Evan.

Evan being a mutant means that we've got at least one thing in common other than being blood-related. However, learning that his parents had been emotionally abusive towards him is still something hard for me to swallow. Now, as I walk through these sewers visiting him as often as I can, I take into account what Bobby had told me weeks ago about being there for Evan no matter what.

I understand that Bobby has been suffering considering his parents are on the path of disowning him. I'll never tell Bobby this, but I've heard him crying in his bedroom on more than one occasion. It is something that truly tears at my heart because I know that he is a good kid and has a heart that is bigger than his whole body.

But the least that I can do is fulfill Bobby's request by being there for my cousin whether he wants me to be there or not.

I never turn my back on family.

And my cousin is no exception.

He's the last blood-related family that I have left in my life. And I am never going to give up on having a relationship with him.

It's the least that I can do.

Up next: Cecilia Reyes