Part 5- ‘The Keys To My Soul…’
It was safe to say nobody got any sleep that night, all haunted in their way, all worrying over a situation that seemed to be getting away from them, Logan and to a certain extent Marie.
Professor Xavier had seen it, the way their lives were slowly unravelling, and it had nothing to do with the threats they faced from the outside world, but had everything to do with the way they bled inside, the pain they couldn’t seem to bear. It tore at them and he was powerless, rendered useless, he could not interfere unless they asked him to.
Could not and would not, Logan had long resented the fact his mind could be read so easily by Xavier, he’d growled his menacing intentions more than once if ‘ol Chuck as he called him, ever tried it.. And Marie, did she truly grasp the weight of this burden to which she appeared so willing to take on board?
Had she even contemplated the extent, the dark avenues Logan’s mind would take her down, the things he would show her, the bitter memories, the darkness that could potentially drown them both? Apparently she had, she knew the dangers, knew the risk she was taking, and he could not fathom quite how much of her strength was bravado, and how much was a brave front, because he knew, the fear it had to run deep.
No one was that brave, no one was that strong, certainly not 18 year old Marie, even he, Professor Xavier approaching sixty had not had the courage to do what she had seemed willing to take on so readily.
He tossed sleeplessly in his bed, resorting to meditating when rest eluded him still, and even that was elusive, deep concentration difficult, the images haunted him, a broken cut Marie, and a Logan broken further still.
Their lives marked by sorrow, they lived them according to that singular faith as well, it would hurt, it would always hurt.
Scott turned to his side, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, reaching out he tentatively pushed a few strands of her red hair away from her face, wanting to see her features more clearly. He sighed, thankful for the forces that kept her here still, that kept her by his side, the fates that kept her warm and safe in his bed.
Contentment was his, peace was his at last, and the long nights, those hard days when he doubted, and when he feared her constancy seemed so long ago. Having been so afraid that he would lose her that she would choose another over him, the fact she was here, her perfect figure encased in a pale blue silk nightgown, seemed all the more sweeter.
He had the love of his life by his side, he was surrounded by friends and students he had come to think of as family, he was happy, he was content…so what of it? What of this constant gnawing that ate him, that kept him restless, left him unable to sleep?
Guilt. As simple and all consuming as that, he felt guilty. For all the hardship, all the doubts he could have encountered through his life, nothing, none of it would ever come close to what Logan was suffering.
He regretted not being able to look the woman he loved in the eyes, his mutation always requiring the use of the glasses, but at least he had Jean, and he had never resented his mutancy, certainly not in the way Logan had reason to regret and resent his.
What was it, he thought, to be so broken, to be hateful of the very thing that lives inside, to be so afraid of the power you hold, to be so resentful of the very essence of you, the gene that set you apart from the rest of the world. What could it mean to be afraid of it?
And Marie, poor Marie, to be burdened with so much, not only her own fears, but now willing to take on his as well, did she know, truly know what it would mean for her, Logan had already hurt her, and Scott was convinced the scars lay not only on her face, but ran deeper, how deep?
Deep enough to pull her apart, scars cruel enough to allow her to be pushed to the edge and over by his nightmares? He had voiced his concerns when she had told them what she was willing to do. He had looked at the Professor, his gaze meeting that of the older man, silently begging, pleading for him to make her change her mind, to reconsider.
He will kill you; it was all Scott could think of, the words unwanted and unbidden, came screaming at him, he will kill you.
The cold certainty of it shook him to the core, he will kill you, and I won’t be able to stop it, because you’ll be somewhere I can’t reach you, down in the depths of his hell. Miles and miles underground swept away by his pain, a form of bitter exile that you will choose, but Marie, he will kill you.
Why, why the certainty? Because of tonight, the animal was finally unleashed, and Scott saw, it was no accident, Logan knew what he was doing, he’d sent you through that window, and he was taking you down with him. And he didn’t care, he let you bleed, he caused you to bleed, but he didn’t care.
It meant nothing to him, and his screaming, God his haunted screaming; it seemed to be willing and able to tear the heavens apart. Pain and anguish, but anger as well, such venom in those cries of despair, running deep, running far. Wolverine or Logan…?
Scott had trouble distinguishing between the two, in the moments he held you prisoner, pinned to the ground his arm tensed, in those moments when faith seemed so far, when hope was unreachable, what was it man or beast?
True he had not been the best friends with Logan, he doubted that would ever happen, not least because of the obvious interest he had shown in Jean, but now, he truly believed Logan should be made to leave.
Now, before it was too late, before he sucked Marie in further, pulled her down into that hell that was his existence, she should not have to carry it, it was not her burden to hold, not her, 18 years old, but already trying to put together a man who had almost clawed her to death.
He’d raised the point with the Professor, but Marie had insisted, ah can do it, she’d said, at least let me try…And then Xavier had nodded even as he had shook his head, don’t do it, don’t touch his skin, don’t go in there again Marie, not into his mind, because this time who’s to know what if you don’t come out this time?
His pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and instead they’d insisted he keep this to himself, no one else in the mansion must know what they were doing, and certainly not any of rest of the X-kids.
There it was again, that need to show at least one of them was unbreakable, that one X-man was invincible, it was so important, everyone in the mansion looked up to Logan, he was their hero in waiting.
Don’t take that away from them, don’t let them see a hero fall apart, because what of hope, if it could happen to him, it could happen to anyone, anyone of them could and would fall, could be beaten by their demons. Don’t let him lose their respect, whatever else was slipping out of his hands, tripping out of his soul, don’t let him lose their respect, their adoration, their hero worship.
He’d snorted at that thought, and rather cruelly remarked, ‘why not, he seems to be losing everything else.’
And then he’d seen, the strength, the resolve behind the eyes of an 18 year old girl, willing to walk through hell, willing to take on a condemned path, towards death if needs be, for Logan, armed with nothing but the blind faith that she needed to succeed.
She’d turned on him, her words strong and resolute, ‘because he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve to lose their loyalty simply because it was falling apart for him. He had saved all of their lives more than once, he had stayed, and he had sacrificed, put aside his need to roam, to be free, choosing instead to stay, choosing this place, choosing these mutants.’
And she had been right, realising the struggle he must have undergone, knowing he could never even come close to understanding the need of the Wolverine, the animal inside ripping it apart.
He had been humbled, she had shown him what he could never hope to understand, that even heroes need saving.
But he will kill you.
He took a shuddering breath, pulled himself out of the bed and went to stand in the window, staring out across the dark night sky, it was pitch black, not a star in the heavens.
How many others, he thought, how many others lay sleepless tonight?
Marie laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, it would have been impossible to lie on her side, the pain on her cheek throbbing away. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, protection, safety.
She couldn’t help but ponder over his words, it’s workin’ both ways…’ He was walking in her nightmares, and what was he seeing, all her fears, all that she’d suffered from that moment her mutation had awoken? Further back still, to her childhood perhaps? To the short happiness she’d known then, what else, the long journey she’d taken from Caldecott to Canada, the fear, the sheer terror of leaving everything behind to arrive in Laughlin city, alone and afraid.
To when she’d met him, Logan, and the years spent in the academy, getting close to friends but never knowing the sentiments they experienced, the simple enjoyment from touch, always getting close, but never being allowed to get close enough.
Was he walking through it all, meeting the ghosts of her past, and what of it? What was he garnering from her memories; she hoped it could be something of peace, something of happiness, for though it was filled with its own brand of pain it had not all been bad. There had been happier moments, times of laughter, times of joy.
But was she really ready, was she willing to share that with him, to let him in all the way. Because that was what she’d been asking of him, to let her in, to show her everything.
And it was in that moment she realised what it meant, to give everything away, to trade the nightmares, to let another see what it was to suffer, to see and experience everything, to share it all, it was as if she would be giving away the keys to her soul.
It was like giving away the secrets to your universe, sharing it all, not being able to hold anything back, the deepest, darkest, most intrinsic part of you was open, wide open for another.
She shuddered as she sat up, perhaps they were right to fear her mutation, right to fear her skin, she could take it all from them with a touch, she’d been bitter about it for so long, but now she saw it as they did at last, it was the taking of every last thing, a simple touch and your deepest secrets, your hopes, your fears, everything you’d dreamed belonged to another. No longer yours to hide, no longer yours to hold.
And in the end it came down to trust, did she trust him enough to open it all up to him, to give him everything, just as he said would happen, just as her mutation worked. Did he trust her enough, so much had been taken from him already, so many memories, so much of a past, could he trust her with the keys now?
And did she trust him? Entrust me with the keys to your soul, all or nothing…all or nothing.
"Break The Night With Colour"- Richard Ashcroft
Fools they think I do not know, the road I'm taking
If you meet me on the way, hesitating
that is just because I know which way I will choose
The corridors of discontent, that I've been travelling
on the lonely search for truth, the world's so frightening
Nothing's going right today, cos nothing ever does
I don't wanna know your secrets
They lie heavy on my head
Let's break the night with colour
Time for me to move ahead
Love this life if you get a little light
[x4]
Monday morning coming down, lack understanding
Mama thinks you are the clown, your looking so frightening
Nothing's going right today, cos nothing ever does
I don't wanna know your secrets
They lie heavy on my head
Time for me to break my cover
Time for me to move ahead
(You think of giving it up, here we go again)
(You think of giving it up, here they come again)
I don't wanna know your secrets
They lie heavy on my head
Let's break the night with colour
Time for us to move ahead
I said I don't wanna know your secrets
They lie heavy on my head
Time, let's break the night with colour
Time for me to move ahead
(You think of giving it up)
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Don’t take that away from them, don’t let them see a hero fall apart, because what of hope, if it could happen to him, it could happen to anyone, anyone of them could and would fall, could be beaten by their demons. Don’t let him lose their respect, whatever else was slipping out of his hands, tripping out of his soul, don’t let him lose their respect, their adoration, their hero worship.
He had been humbled, she had shown him what he could never hope to understand, that even heroes need saving.
He had been humbled, she had shown him what he could never hope to understand, that even heroes need saving.