Just Like Prometheus

BY : kleysa
Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Het - Male/Female > Logan/Mystique
Dragon prints: 6892
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Genre: X-Men the Movie
Title: Just Like Prometheus
Author: Ayla
Email: ayla@buffysmut.com
Website: www.buffysmut.com
Distribution: Please email Author

Summary: Wolverine is taken to the brink of insanity and death by a
vengeful and twisted Mystique.

Rating: Strong NC-17 for non-con Torture, mental and physical, sexual
themes and general tone.

Pairing: Wolverine/Mystique

Disclaimer: This work is not for profit, and no characters are owned
by me. Wanna make something of it, Bub?

Feedback: If you HAVE to flame me over the content or theme, at least
be intelligent about it.

Notes: Wolverine POV. A nasty look into my nightmares, this is the
how I have to get them out of my head. A big thanks to my beta
reader, 'chelle!! Please contact me if you see somethin' buggy!

Time Frame: Shortly after the movie


She's in here with me again, watchin' me like a spider waitin' for
her prey to liquify. I hafta hand it to her, she's good, real quiet,
but I can still smell her, faintly, even through my mangled nose. My
healin' factor's workin; double overtime right now, tryin' to battle
the physical injuries and clean my system of the poison she keeps
pumpin' nto my veins, so nothin's up at 100 percent, and truthfully,
I'm not expectin' to be there again for a while. My ears catch the
smallest of sounds, probably a patch of that rough dark skin slidin'
over the rock like a snake, as she waits for another 'session'.

I prefer the physical torture to the mental. I know how to handle
pain, but this waiting, this feelin' of helplessness ain't my cuppa
joe. It's down to a sick science - she seems to know exactly when
that tiny flame of hope that maybe I'm gonna heal quicker this time
is burnin' its brightest and I'm startin' to get my head cleared,
anger and strength floodin' back into my body like warm maple syrup.
That's when she'll step in front of me, yellow eyes gleamin' like the
devil, taut blue skin shining darkly in the dim light of my stone
prison, and the pain starts again.

I've lost track of how long I've been here, torture and sensory
deprivation will do that to you. Mystique and the rest o' Magneto's
cronies got the jump on me, but good; I hadn't made it very far out
of New York after leavin' the School. I passed out with the words
ringin' in my head, 'If there's anything left when you're finished,
he may make a good addition to the Brotherhood.'

There's a deep rage and hatred burnin' in my belly, but I can't touch
it, can't dip into it for fortification. Whatever she's shootin' me
full of is keepin' me from tappin' into my berserker rage. It leaves
me an impotent animal unable to even gnaw my own leg off to escape, a
fly strugglin' in a barb wire web.

So here we are. She's watchin' me suffer, and I concentrate on
continuin' to breathe, and together in the darkness we wait, predator
and prey.

// blink //

Mystique's low honey toned voice drips into my head. 'I'm so
disappointed. Look at you.' She walks around me. I'm sittin' hunched
on the ground, head droopin', arms pulled up painfully straight over
my head secured with adamantium chains that are put at careful angles
to my claw reach, 'just in case'. That's the least of my worries, the
train quickly faded to a dull ache I barely felt amid everythin'
else. 'The great and powerful Wolverine reduced to a cowering animal
in less then two weeks.' She's behind me now, and she reaches out to
caress the knotted muscles in my back. I can't help myself, I jerk
from her touch and growl.

'Mmmmm,' she purrs and molds herself against my body in what I
suppose she thought was a seductive way, but the feel of her skin on
mine makes me feel filthy in a way the blood and sweat and dirt
coatin' me never could. 'There you go, show a little spirit! With
your healing factor and my skill, we could do this for a long time
yet.' She leans in and nuzzles my ear, 'Every day . . . for years.' A
shudder rolls through me and I find it within myself to suddenly
bellow in rage and buck violently to try and shake her off of me.

She laughs, a deep throaty laugh, a bedroom laugh. I feel the prick
of a needle as she injects more drugs into my overloaded system, and
as I'm slidin' down a dark spiral I hear her say, 'Wouldn't want you
to spoil my fun now, would I?'

I hover there at the edge of blackness feelin' the drugs wrappin'
their sticky tendrils around me, or maybe it's just Mystique tryin'
to drive me mad through oxygen eprevation again. A bright firework of
pain explodes in my vision, and dimily I realize the bitch is slicin'
into me, quick, thin, long delicate strokes, to just under the
subcutaneous layer. She's tryin' to flay me alive, peelin' my skin
from my body. I hear a horrible groaning scream leak from my lips,
and dimly, Mystique's cheerful voice comes through the red and purple
haze throbbin' in my brain, '. . . such a nice pelt. I think this
will make a really elegant wrap, don't you?'

Just when I think its finally over she's rubbin' thick gritty
handfuls of salt into my angry oozing flesh, grindin' it in, and
she's truly enjoyin' my agony. 'Proper seasoning makes all the
difference,' she says, and the last thing I see before I pass out are
those white teeth, gleamin' like a cheshire cat, slowly fading, along
with my mind.

// blink //

I grunt and slide a short way back down the slope in a small shower
of pebbles and dry dirt. I sneeze and cuss, tryin' to maintain my
hold on the side of the mountain I'm tryin' to climb. I'm here
lookin' for . . . somethin', I wish I could remember what it
was, 'cause I know it's important. This damn thing is endless, and I
continue to fight, clawin' my way up the steep slope, makin' my way
up into the sunset. Streaks of blood red and indigo stain the sky and
I finally struggle over the top, collapsin' for a minute to regain
control of my breathin' and my temper. I attempt to meditate, to try
to remember what I'm doin' here, and I watch the fiery ball hangin'
in the sky.

It feels like time is frozen, nothing's movin'. The sun ain't
sinkin', the breeze ain't blowin', no scents, no noise, everything's
dead. Frowning, I get to my feet and start to pick my way through the
rocky foothill of the next mountain loomin' over me, lettin' my feet
land where they like. I realize there's a woman next to me,
beautiful, petite, Asian, and I feel like I know her but I can't
think of her name or where we've met.

'What are you looking for, Logan-San?'

'I'm not sure.' I reach up and grasp at my dogtags unconsciously.

'Didn't you give those to someone else for safe keeping?' she asks.

I feel the solid metal melt from under my hand and disappear like
vapour into the air. I see Rogue's face. 'Yeah, I guess I did.'

We're standin' in front of a cave now. I eyeball it, nothin' looks or
smells bad in this dead wasteland, but I don't want to go inside. If
I go inside, I'll wake up.

'You must go inside, Logan-San. The only way to beat your demons and
find peace is to face them head on.' I nod, and turn to ask the woman
who she is, but she is gone too. I hear a faint whisper in my
head, 'beat your demons. . .'

The cave is dim and cool. I see a different woman standin' there, her
back to me. She seems blurry, out of focus, and I can't pick out any
identifyin' details. I'm rooted to the spot, and I can't even yell to
her as I see the largest snake I've ever seen in my life, at least
what I remember of it, slide up to her. The woman turns to me, and
stares at me with ice blue eyes, blind eyes, and the python is
swallowin' her head first, so fast if I woulda blinked, I woulda
missed it.

With a roar, I tear myself free of my paralysis, and leap forward to
meet the beast. It's sluggish and moves slowly, the large lump of the
woman's body slowin' it down as it begins to digest it's meal. We
clash and wrestle; It tries to crush me with clammy coils, and I try
to slice it with my claws, but they don't penetrate it's skin. I grab
it under the head, it's huge, and I'm strugglin' to strangle the
monster, but I'm movin' it's head closer to my mouth, and suddenly
I'm swallowin' it.

Smooth scales slide down my throat, and I feel my jaw unhinge to
force more of it down. I'm gulpin' forever, and I'm tryin' not to
think about where this whole thing is gonna go; There's no way
someone can swallow 10 feet of python stuffed with woman and live. I
feel it writhin' around in my stomach, tryin' to get out, and now I'm
strugglin' to finish up the last 3 feet or so.

I'm lookin' up at the tail stickin' straight up out of my throat. It
tapers to a slender point, but I'm startin' to really worry that my
gut's gonna explode. There's this awful fullness inside my body, but
if I don't choke it down somethin' really bad is gonna happen, I feel
it in my metal coated bones, so I'm forcin' myself to choke it down
inch by inch.

I hear my name in a soft hissin' voice, 'Logan . . . Logan . . .' I
think the snake is talkin' to me from inside, and it's freakin' me
out. The whispering fills my head and resonates through me . . .

// blink //

My eyes flutter open and I wince and shut them again at the light
that slices painfully into my brain. The hissin' of my dream turns in
to a soft little voice with a Southern accent. I struggle to swim
back to conciousness, and inbetween blinks I see flashes of a smooth
pale face hovering above me.

'R-Rogue?' I croak out. Oh christ, she's gotta leave, gotta get outta
here before that sick blue bitch gets her. I'm strapped down to some
sort of table, but she's leanin' over me, hands danglin' near mine,
and I'm able to grab her wrist tightly. I feel her bones grind under
her glove and she cries out, but I can't loosen my grip 'til I warn
of the danger she's in here. 'Get the hell outta here, Kid! Get out,

Rogue looks at me with those big brown doe eyes, she's starin' down
at my arm streaked with dried blood and filth. Track marks blossom
like deadly flowers in the hollow of my elbows next to slow healin'
bone deep slashes. She reaches out with her other hand and
tentatively touches my chest its new skin stretched tight, pink and
shiny, and damn it's painful. 'What did she do to you?' Rogue

A wave of nausea rolls over me and I feel a cold, greasy sweat break
out. She's ignorin' my panic and urgency, her gaze locked on my body
takin' in all of my injuries, but she's not botherin' to loosen the
thick leather straps holdin' me prisoner. Her fascination makes my
inner alarms go off, but my head feels so muddled up right now, all I
wanna do is slip into the black void I've been flippin' in and out
of. She runs her gloved hand over my raw chest, and I hiss through my

'What did it feel like?' she asks me. I stare at her in confusion and
my grip relaxes, letting her free. Rogue slides a little closer to
me, she's practically on top of me now, and there's a lurkin' hunger
in her gaze. She keeps rubbin' me with her hands and talkin' to me in
a dreamy tone.

'Did you think you were going to die? Did you pray for it? A release
from the pain?'

She's swingin' her leg up over my body and sittin' on top of me in a
sick parody of a lover's union, leanin' forward to lay on my chest.
My senses swim with the fof hof her small soft body pushin' into
mine, and I'm filled with a deep shame and confusion that the feel of
her breasts begin to excite me through the pain.

I breathe her scent in deeply. I feel like I've been hit in the gut
with a sledge hammer as the truth I've been wantin' to deny dawns on
me. I strain to reach out past the confinement of the straps and
catch a strand of her hair with my finger tips. I pull it, hard, and
my fingers leave rusty flakes of dried blood caught in the white
strands of her shock lock.

'You are one sick bitch,' I growl. I wish I had the strength to kill
her, truth is every part of my body feels like molten lead. The real
Rogue smells like ivory soap, coconut shampoo, teen girl sweat and
sadness. Mystique smells like lust, the copper tang of blood mixed
faintly with cloves, and old dust. 'Rogue's more of a real woman at
15 then you'll ever be, Blue.'

Mystique/Rogue laughs mockingly at that. The tickle of air on my neck
makes me grit my teeth. Then I feel her dippin' her head, and I
unconciously steel myself against her touch. I can't help it, my body
remembers the other two times, and part of me knows if the real deal
touched me right now, I'd probably crumble to dust in less then a
minute. This carbon copy is messin' with my head, bad. I feel her
warm tongue run up the side of my neck, eagerly laving dried blood
and sweat from my skin, and a shiver rolls through me.

'Come on, Logan, you know you want to touch me. You want to feel my
young, bare skin pressing against yours in the heat of passion, at
least once. I've heard you call my name out when you dream.' Now
she's gloveless and holdin' my head in her hands, tracin' my lips
with the tip of her tongue, tryin' to tease me into surrendering,
confusin' me with her pronouns. Her hands suddenly feel so hot on my
cold, healin' skin, but soothin' and smooth, no more pain. I close my
eyes to quash that tired, perverted dirty old man in me, the one that
does sometimes have that pipe dream that a young innocent girl like
Rogue could somehow purify my dark soul, but with my eyes closed I
feel like I'm drownin' in the hungry stench of Mystique, and it snaps
me back to reality.

I stare straight into her eyes. 'I know I've done some damn horrific
things in my time, and even if I can't remember them, those things
have marked me forever. One thing I know for sure is that I don't
fuck little girls, not even if they're ancient shape shiftin' hags
like you.' Her eyes snapped yellow in anger, and she slapped me
across the face, rockin' my head sideways. It was such a petty
gesture, such a human reaction from an inhuman monster, I couldn't
stop myself, I started laughin'.

There was a strange slidin' sensation on my chest. Rogue was meltin'
before my eyes, skin drippin' like hot wax in great globules, and
then it was reversing and reformin' into someone else.

'I should have known you'd like the exotic, Logan.' Storm's dulcet
tones oozed over me and she slowly circled one of my nipples with a
long perfect nail.

'I'll give you exactly what I gave you the last time you wore that
form, Mystique.' With a weak sneer I popped my claws on my right hand
and with every ounce of strength, I strained against the straps
holdin' my arm down. My veins bulged and I roared in fury and
disappointment. Oh how I lusted to drive my claws deep into her belly
again, this time I'd make sure I finished the job. She leapt off me
like a rabbit. Good to know she was scared of my claws at least. I
sneered and growled in my ravaged voice, 'Not the type of penetration
yer looking for? Scars a pain in the ass to shape shift?'

She changed again, determined to stay in control, not take my
bait. 'So maybe women aren't your thing then?' Cyclops circled the
table like a shark, examinin' my restraints from a safe distance,
making sure I hadn't loosened them. Then, takin' note of my fading
wounds and the gleam comin' back into my eye, he busied himself at a
surgical tray. He turned and swiftly strapped a tight mask over my
nose and mouth that I couldn't shake off, not for lack of
tryin'. 'Could it be be that the rugged and manly Wolverine likes to
hang around in public restrooms and dimly lit bars with an exclusive
all male clientele?' He flashed that thin lipped smile at me as he
waited for the gas to do it's work.

'What I said about little girls goes double for boys, asshole,' I
rasped out through the mask. The clouds were startin' to sweep in low
and heavy across my vision. I fought it, I refused to be sucked down
again, but it was gettin' hard to remember this wasn't the real
Scott, it was Mystique . . . or was it? One by one I felt my muscles
going limp. I blinked and my head rolled to the side. 'never . .
did . . .like . . you . . .tightass. . .'

// blink //

'. . . Just like Prometheus,' she purrs. 'No matter how many times I
rip things out, they keep growing back.'


Sound explodes through my brain like a sonic boom. My scream is lost
in the noise, arms pulled out of joint by my chains when I tried to
fling them protectively around my head. I felt dizzy and nauseated,
like my entire system had been shaken by a giant and tossed aside
like a rag doll. My ear drums must be blasted out, once the after
shocks subside my head feels like it's wrapped in cotton wool and I
fade out slippin' off the corner of Mystique's smirk as she stands
over me.

// blink //

I can't tell what's reality and nightmare any more. Everything's
taken on a murky dream-like quality. Mystique's appetite and
imagination for torture seems to know no bounds. I'm used to livin'
with pain, I really got no other choice, do I? But I'd sell what's
left of my soul right now for a shot glass full of something pale and
poisonous, something that might blunt the razor edge I've been livin'

She knows I won't die without food or water, just make my life more
miserable. Instead I'm given just enough to make my body think more's
coming and complain when it doesn't. The last time I got water,
Mystique stuffed a filthy rag in my mouth, pounding it deep down with
a metal rod, careful to keep her fingers from my teeth. She put
another rag over my face and she slowly poured liquid on it, 'til all
I was breathin' was water vapour. My lungs were burning and fillin'
with fluid, and my body thrashed reflexively in panic as she tricked
it into thinkin' I was drowning. Mystique's laughter filled my ears
like the tide.

// blink //

It takes me a minute to figure out I'd been blindfolded and trussed
up like a turkey, left carelessly on the ground like a piece of
trash. I was almost at the point of numbness. Almost. Thick leg irons
wrap around my ankles bitin' deep into my flesh, and my wrists are
carefully bound behind me, with a rope wrappin' my elbows just above
the joints. She's tied my wrists to my ankles, turnin' me into a
human pretzel, and there's long pole jammed between my back and
elbows. I musta been out for a while 'cause it feels like I'm inna
vise, the leg irons and ropes pressin' into and strangling my limbs,
turnin' 'em black.

Pain purifies, it lets you know yer still alive. Pain feeds on
hatred, and it was gorging within me right now. But hate saps, it
sucks your soul dry and kills yer faith. Mixed with pain it makes you
face parts of yourself most people can't even imagine exist. It'll
either kill ya or leave you a mindless animal bent on survival anyway
possible. If yer strong enough to accept the darkness, yer strong
enough to live with the consequences once you snap back to reality.
Usually. Welcome to my world.

I'm tryin' to enjoy the slow lightshow behind my eyelids, keepin'
myself distracted from my arms and legs when Mystique finally
returns. We play a twisted version of Merry-Go Round for the next few
hours, where she jerks me up by the pole and lifts me up and down by
my elbows before slammin' me to the floor on my face, or backwards
onto my head while she constantly taunts me. Her words weave
themselves into a meaningless net around my brain.

I only speak to her once. Through the blood and broken teeth, I ask
her, 'Why?'

She looks at me comtemptously and pats my cheek before
answering, 'Because I can.'

// blink //

Soft lips kiss me awake, slim familiar hands run over my body. For a
second I think I'm back in Xavier's med lab, then I figure I'm
dreamin' 'cause Jean's naked body is pressin' into mine as she rests
on top of me. My hands are floatin' up to touch her skin, my rough
fingers snaggin' on silken hair. I don't care anymore if this is
Mystique or a fever dream, and she sees it my eyes. I cover her
triumphant smile with an animal kiss, possessin' and claimin' Jean in
a way I know could never happen outside of these slimey stone walls.

She responds to me eagerly, hunger matchin' my own. Too soon I have
to break for a ragged breath of air, but my hands roam down to her
breasts. They fill my palms perfectly as I knead them, gently at
first, and then roughly, rolling and pinchin' the nipples , makin'
her buck against me. She fills my head with soft gasps and moans as I
close my mouth over one, then the other, suckling her, tastin' her.
Her head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open in a 'O', and she is

I nudge her legs apart with my knee and she slides down my body 'til
she's straddlin' the hard muscle of my thigh. Her head tosses back
with a sharp cry of pleasure at the pressure, red hair tumblin' down
her back like a livin' flame. I continue to devour Jean's body with
my lips and tongue, 'til her back arches and she collapses on my
chest with a cry, burying her face in my neck, sinkin' her teeth into
the thick muscles of my shoulder, makin' me growl in lust and need.

Jean shifts on top of me and our sweaty skin slides pleasurably
together as she trails kisses and sharp nips down my chest punctuated
with light flicks of an extremely talented tongue. It's drivin' me
wild, I wanna crush her in my arms and trap her beneath me, ravish
her properly, but I'm too weak, I have to relinquish some control.
She circles my navel, and I draw a sharp breath in, I know I won't be
able to last long in my condition, so I grab her arms and haul her
back up my chest.

I close my eyes as we mesh together. The slick heat of her is enough
to melt the adamantium off my bones and I can hear and feel her
heartbeat pulsin' through my own body, the primal rhythm settin' my
blood to the boilin' point. We're both close to the edge, it's like
we're one body, one mind, straining towards the same goal. She's a
white marble Goddess come to life astride me, heaven on earth sent to
deliver me from this blackness, this hell I've wound up in. I smell
our hot sweat mixed with the cold stone of my prison, and I cry out,
hoarse and sharp, bucking up into her warmth tryin' to blindly push
myself deeper into her body.

I want to see her face, but instead I see the light flash off the
slim blade plunging down into the hollow of my throat as Jean pins me
to the table like a bug. My body stiffens and hardens in shock as I
try to roar, but all I can do is gurgle blood.

My eyes are wide open now, the image of Jean groaning and writhin' on
top of me with her hand firmly around the knife through my throat is
forever, indelibly etched in my mind. She shouts her pleasure, a
hissing 'Yessss,' as her body spasms and twitches around my flesh in
her release. Jean slowly slides off me, zipping the scalpel down the
length of my body like an autopsy, and I see my own blood gleaming on
those perfect breasts, the ones I had just handled so reverently.

I'm flickering in and out of shock and awareness a lot, but it seems
to go on forever. No man should ever hafta experience that alien
feelin' of something tuggin' deep on yer guts where you're thankful
as all hell ya ain't got any nerve ending's, pressure where there
shouldn't be any. Ever. I blink at Jean uncomrehendingly. At one
point it looks like she's tryin' to play cat's cradle with my
intestines, and I realize that if I see this woman again after I get
free, I will kill her.

// blink //

I'm floatin' in whiteness, nothingness. How ironic that I'd choose ta
die this way, just a givin' up of my will and a concious slippin'
away. What use am I here, locked away beneath cold, unforgivin'
stone, a battered and bloody plaything for a tainted soul with no
shreds of humanity left? I was always sure I'd die fightin', takin'
down as many with me as I could. After meeting the X-Men I had brief
thoughts of re-joining them after my search for answers, choosin' a
side, maybe calling the School home for a while. I wanted to finally
fight for a purpose I fully understood and could stand behind. My own
man, fightin' battles of my own choosin', not a mindless puppet.

Faces float through my mind, faces of people I must have known but I
can't place, It figures, even now in my moment of death I am denied
my memories. I know I'm reachin' the end when I see Professor Xavier,
deceptive with his gentle demeanor, still strong of spirit despite
his physical handicap, fightin' for all of his long life for what he
feels is right deep in his soul.

Storm, quiet and exotic. I regret not gettin' to know her better.
Without her words and quiet determination to make me join the team, I
never woulda saved Rogue's life after Magneto kidnapped her and
almost killed her. And hell, I woulda probably wound up in Magneto's
lair long before now if she hadn't shown up with One-eye in Canada.

Rogue, lost and hurtin', who never would have found a place to fit in
if I had left her on that back road in Canada. I guess I was damned
if I did and damned if I didn't. There are no coincidences. She's
just a kid with too many people floatin' around in her head and no
one with enough guts to even give her a damn hug.

Even Cyclops, I hafta hand it to him, he builds a mean cycle, for a
dickhead. He wouldn't be part of the X-men if there wasn't somethin'
else in him. Wait, hell, they took *me* in. Doesn't matter any more
though I guess.

Jean's face swam by my vision, and lord help me, I couldn't stop the
shudder of revulsion that ran through me at the sight of her face. I
swear I could hear her voice sayin' my name and cryin'. Just as I
registered it, I was being pulled back into awareness so fast my
breath was being forced from my body, like somethin' had attached me
to a harness on a catapult and cut the line.

// blink //

I draw in a painful gasp of air, reinflatin' lungs that had given up
the ghost. It rushes into my body, white hot in its intensity, every
fiber of my being quiverin' in idignation. For the first time in
however long I've been here, everything was crystal clear, sharp with
a hyper awareness. I feel the roughness of the stone cuttin' into my
back, the coldness seepin' the last dregs of warmth from my
unshackled, dying body. I feel the warmth of the woman's arms
cradlin' my head, the smell of the leather body suit she wore. I
taste the salt of the tears she's sheddin' as they fall onto my face
and roll into my mouth.

I slowly focus on the object of my torment, this demon who once more
chose to wear Jean's face as she attempted to pull me from the brink
of death for her own sadistic pleasure. Mystique's finally managed to
make herself smell like Jean, right down to that faint medicinal
antiseptic tang she thinks she covers with some herbal body wash, and
I feel the dam crackin' deep inside as fury batters down the last of
the pharmaceutical and psychological walls. I let the tidal wave
carry me away, the animal takes over.

My mouth opens and words bubble out, 'I'm takin' you ta hell with me,
you filthy bitch.' My claws come out with a final *SNIKT* and I drive
them up trying to catch that pale shocked face under the chin and
skewer her through the throat, determined to leave this mortal coil
with Mystique's death rattle in my ears.

Dimly I hear a third voice shout out, the world glows ruby red, and I
explode, flyin' backwards into the calm black death I yearn for. A
last word slithering through my torn lips, 'Jean. . . '

I'm sittin' by myself somewhere deep in the grounds of Chuck's school
on a cold marble bench in a gazebo watchin' the rain fall. He's been
workin' with me, in me, to try and fix up some of the damage Mystique
caused in the month I was missin'. At least this time I know I'm not
rememberin' things 'cause I don't want to, and now I'm thinkin' maybe
I'm better off not learnin' much more about my past. Just more
nightmare fodder, something different on the nightly menu.

I guess a month is a drop in the bucket compared to how much I've
already lost, but I hafta wonder, what'll happen if it all comes
floodin' back at once? Chuck tells me I was this close to snuffin'
Jean. If Cyclops hadn't found us when he did I woulda run her through
and cut her heart out. That much I remember.

After my rescue, I spent quite a while in the med lab. Jean attended
me when I was in the coma, but I grew violent whenever I sensed her
near me after I woke up. The Professor took care o' that right off
the bat, but it took a long time before Jean or Scott would look me
in the eye. Took a while before I tried to, too. Jean accidentally
brushed up against me in the kitchen the other night, and before I
could stop myself, I felt every muscle in my body tensin' up, my
battle rage flared red hot. It was a frozen tableau, nobody was sure
how to react or what to do. I gritted my teeth and forced it back in
the box. She murmered a shaken apology and it passed.

I see a familiar figure trudgin' toward me through the rain. Rogue.
We'd taken to spendin' a lotta time together. Sometimes we talked,
mostly we didn't. I never said a thing about my time with Mystique,
and she never asks, but I know I never want her to touch me again. I
never want her to know what I went through, her role in it. She knew
enough of me now, at least part of me anyway. I was rattlin' around
in her head along with Magneto and I guess I feel a kindred spirit
with her. Chuck's pleased, he feels it's was good for both of us,
mutual mutant therapy.

She stops in front of me, rain tricklin' off the wool of the silly
cape like coat she still wears and nods, a silent request for
permission to join me. I nod back, and she sits beside me and slides
her hood off . The white streaks in her hair shine a grey-silver and
she lays her head on my shoulder. Herd instinct.

After a little while, I put my arm around her and we sit together,
two warriors, one old and broken, fightin' to heal the shreds o' a
soul, and one young and freshly scarred with too much knowledge of
life's darkness crammed in her head. We watch the rain and listen to
it saturate the earth and for the first time in years, I take a quiet
pleasure in simply bein' alive.


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