‘Dancing with the devil's past has never been too fun
It's better off than trying to take a bullet from a gun
And he cries:
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C'mon baby can you bleed like me?’
‘Just try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
You should see my scars
You should see my scars’- ‘Bleed Like Me’ – Garbage
Part 16- ‘Tell Me It Hurts…’
She snapped her eyes open, it was dark, and cold, her teeth chattered involuntarily as struggled to make sense of her surroundings. She groaned, her head pounded and she tried to remember what it was she had done last and just why it should hurt so damn much.
Her head felt like a dead weight, she slumped forward and the white bangs of her hair fell into her eyes, and then it started, the excruciating pain, the white hot burning that beat with every pulse, that flowed through her constricting veins. Her skin ached, her bones ached, every damn nerve was set alight and it burned unbearably.
She pulled her arms, wanting to wrap them around herself, wanting to soothe, needing this ache, this battered bruising, this burning to end, it hurt, it hurt so damn much. She tugged at her wrists, but it was no use. She turned her head slightly, wanting to see what held her back, and she saw with a sickening thud to her heart that she was bound.
She was suspended in some sort of structure, a glass tank that held masses and masses of green liquid, and a panic, an instinct to be free stronger than any she had ever known, took over, she lost control and thrashed wildly.
But her feet were bound in the same way, stakes driven through her wrists and her feet, linked to heavy bolts and heavier chains, there was no escape, there was no freedom, and all at once she knew there was only this…death.
And slowly, slowly the water, the poisonous liquid she was being held in began to rise; it crawled up her neck, spilled into her mouth and finally came over her head. She was drowning in it, and for all her screaming it was useless to resist. Every time her mouth opened to release a guttural desperate cry, the liquid simply flooded in and she was drowned all over again.
Her eyes bulged wildly, the terror, the horror of knowing that her life was slipping out of her hands caused her to struggle harder, she pulled vainly against the chains, her limbs screaming with the pain of her efforts…and life, life simply drifted away…slipped away.
Her body could not struggle, could fight no more…and she surrendered to the darkness, the warm embrace that was release…death.
It was a hollow sort of peace, a feeling of being lost in the darkness, but not fear, nothing of fear existed here. Nothing existed here, not a chink of light, not a movement in the reverent stillness of time and space, nothing existed, she did not exist, pain did not exist, life and death were concepts that were lost, caught in the shadows that drifted on endlessly.
And it was bliss, it was utter bliss, like the warmth from a glowing ember, the cushioning softness of knowing that one could drift away endlessly on this plane, healed from sorrow, spared from misery and saved from the pain.
But it was not meant to last, even as she floated away content at last, a force reached out, a hand, and a bitter possessive hand that reached in and pulled it all apart. Pulled her away from contentment, and pulled her out of the comfort of nothingness.
She was wretched away from the safety of the darkness, pulled back into the wretched misery of the light. A light, harsh unforgiving light as poisonous as the green liquid in which she’d drowned.
And she was bound all over again, she could see them, their cowardly faces hidden behind their darkened surgical masks, she could see the black chemicals they pushed into her skin, breaking her with their needles.
She was alive, Oh God she was alive to feel it all, and she watched, and she was free to scream but it made no difference. Their expressions were stoic, unchanging even as she screamed for all she was worth she saw them come closer, blades, cold hard metal was held in their hands.
And there were so many hands, as the cold hard gleam of the scalpels flashed before her eyes, hands clamped down on all of her limbs, she was held down, by the taut bounds that tied her to the gurney, and their hard calloused hands that pressed deep, keeping her still, keeping her useless.
It barely registered at first, the sharp metal piercing her skin, small cuts and slices, and then the blades drove deeper, pushing further, past the first layer of skin, into the muscles and severing every nerve. It burned, her whole being was in fire from the pain, the muscle and skin ripped apart, the bones pushed and probed.
They poured molten fire into her opened skin, and she was alive and awake to watch it all, whipping her restrained head around wildly to see their eyes unmoving, to see their hands covered in blood, it poured out of her, viscous red liquid oozed out of every sore, it dripped to the floor, it bled into the walls, it flowed away and Oh God…could there really be so much blood…? How was it that she was still alive, how was it that she could see her life force being ripped away and still be awake to see it all…?
Her screams resounded, the sound of despair bouncing around the hollow stone walls, it ebbed away, like her blood it flowed away into a meaningless echo, and when the screams resided…she died all over again…
There was no peace, no escape, no soothing dark to lose her self in this time, there was only pain, the misery of knowing that she wasn’t dying anymore, but being ripped apart and pulled into life again.
What had they done…what had they done…she was alone in the room now, suspended in the green liquid once more, but something was different, something was wrong. Her body felt heavy, every limb weighing her down with an added mass of its own.
Her hands flexed against the chains that bound her, she stretched her fingers, even they seemed heavy, and then it happened, with a hollow swish lost in the ripples of water she saw the blades.
Metal, claws…sharp claws…she had blades in between her knuckles, what had they done…what had they done?
She stared as the blood trickled in between the blades, her flesh was cut and it hurt, the claws hurt, she flexed her hands once more and the metal retracted back into her skin, nestling neatly into her hand, and even as she watched she saw the blood stop and the skin heal over right before her eyes.
But the pain would not leave pain and rage…burning hot fury, a thirst for escape and a need to sate her anger with blood. She roared an animalistic hoarse cry that ripped deep from her throat, tore through her body with a force she had never known.
Her hands flexed again and she watched as the claws appeared, turning her wrists slightly she slashed at the chains that bound her arm, the claws sliced cleanly and easily through the metal, the chains fell away with a clang and one of her arm was at least free.
She made short work of the rest of the chains, until she was free to break through the surface of the water, and it was a struggle, everything was heavy, her limbs were heavy, arms and legs that felt like a dead weight, pulling her back down, wanting to drown her.
She clung to the edge of the tank, dragging her body upwards and out of the water; she coughed and spat out acrid liquid, and fell to a heap on the floor.
Crawling to her hands and knees, she saw the scars that kept healing over, but her mind, her bruised and battered mind, the scars would run deep, would run forever, and her soul, her aching soul screamed revenge.
Remy had lifted her easily, she was so weak after her encounter with Logan, she had lost consciousness and as the Acolytes made a strategic retreat his eyes never left her face. He watched as slow beads of sweat gathered on her brow, strange because her body felt so cold.
Now stood at the door of her room and watching her writhe in pain on the bed, still only semi-conscious but screaming like she was fighting her way out of hell, he rubbed an aching hand over his face.
Magneto was stood by his side, they watched in silence as she struggled, Remy could see even Magneto was concerned, and as he rarely cared for anyone one way or the other, Remy knew this was something to be worried about.
‘What’s happening to her, cheri’e, why is she hurting so bad?’ Remy stared at his leader awaiting an answer.
Magneto simply shook his head slowly and frowned, ‘Logan…Logan’s happening to her…’ He walked away at that leaving a concerned Remy to glower after him.
He stepped further into the room, taking a cloth from the basin he had placed on the floor next to her bed he squeezed out the water and placed the cool cloth on her forehead. He hated there was nothing more for him to do.
And he hated that Logan had done this to her, he had seen it all, their fight, the words, the things she had to say to him. She had sounded so passionate, so much in control, and she had hungered for him…Logan.
She had fallen so easily into his touch, and Logan had had been so unafraid, so willing to kiss her, to touch her poisonous skin and fall into her embrace.
Remy cursed him under his breath, he had always been slightly hesitant, pulling back at the last minute, he flirted crazily with her, but she was Rogue, the untouchable, or she ought to have been.
A knot tightened in his chest as he realised how deeply he had begun to feel for this fille, and how the burning grew, how this incessant ache and resentment illuminated into a pointed jealousy. She had come to mean more to him than he could have ever imagined.
Hank had carried him with some difficulty back to the X-jet, Logan was unconscious and as such his body felt like a dead weight. He began to worry, Logan’s breathing was slow and shallow, and he hooked him quickly to the emergency ECG monitor and watched with baited breath until the electronic beeps finally registered the faintest of heartbeats.
There was nothing else for him to do, Logan’s healing would take care of the rest, anything Hank could offer would be purely cursory, a bandage here and a stitch there, in the end what was both Logan’s curse and blessing would prove to be the cure. His own remarkable healing would put his broken body back together again.
At least the body could be mended, even Hank knew nothing could fix the ache in his old friend’s heart, nothing to soothe the bitter betrayal of one they had all trusted, and one Logan loved so very much…Rogue, what have you done?
Hank stared at his still body for a while, his eyes flitting quickly to the monitor seeing the beats gathering pace, seeing Logan’s heart beat getting stronger.
The Doc moved to where Scott still held his hands over his eyes, reassuring the young man quietly Hank wrapped a length of bandage tightly over his eyes, Scott’s shoulders slumped forward heavily and it was the sure knowledge of how far they had all come, how far from what they had been.
Happy and complete, friends, team mates…Rogue what have you done?
Logan’s eyes snapped open at last, recalling his fight with Rogue perfectly, knowing exactly what he had done and what she had done. He had surrendered everything to her, all of it, his power, his mutancy, his life force…and his memories.
His mouth twisted into a bitter smile, ‘Be careful what you wish for sweetheart…’ he muttered, before the darkness took over and he slipped back into nothingness once more.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
He had surrendered everything to her, all of it, his power, his mutancy, his life force…and his memories.
His mouth twisted into a bitter smile, ‘Be careful what you wish for sweetheart…’ he muttered, before the darkness took over and he slipped back into nothingness once more.
A/N: Logan gets his revenge on an unsuspecting Rogue...
His mouth twisted into a bitter smile, ‘Be careful what you wish for sweetheart…’ he muttered, before the darkness took over and he slipped back into nothingness once more.
A/N: Logan gets his revenge on an unsuspecting Rogue...