She could feel him at the back of her mind, his constant whisper, the things he told her to do.
How to steal the cars she helped wash, how to bend her friends arms so they'd break cleanly and cause the most pain when she squeezed them. How to quiet a woman or man when you took what you wanted but didn't want anyone else to know about it, how to slice a throat and not get one drop of blood on you, how to move so quiet that you no
longer even had a presence in the room.
She'd done the last one in history, Ororo had been asking questions of the class but she'd been glossed over time after time. To the point where she'd began to wonder if anyone could see her at all.
When she'd finished class she'd looked at Ororo directly and seen the slightly confused look go past her eyes as if she'd just seen her for the first time that day. It had made her proud then, what she'd absorbed was useful in it's own way. But it had been practice that had been the beginning of her doubts about her sanity.
They'd been practicing an assault on a simulated lab, checking doors, checking areas for the ghostly sentries and using their newly taught skills to drop the holographic images. Thing was she'd lost her own mind, let the knowledge from Logan fill her until she'd been
pulled off of Bobby, his throat purple where she'd had him in her grip determined to kill him. She'd watched the tape with Scott later, he'd been almost kind to her, explaining he understood that her mind might not be entirely her own when she was in the simulations but that meant she had to try harder. All she'd wanted to do was drive a pen through his heart and let him bleed to death
at the console. She could see it as clear as day and the whispers told her just how to do it, the exact force, the lift of her hand and the tension she'd need in her fingers or she'd break them.
She'd left shaky and feeling terrible, the whisper in her mind gaining strength as she fought her way past too many kids, too many smells, too many hormonal messages crowding her brain. She remembered snarling out to those who didn't move fast enough for her, telling Kitty to fuck Pete already they both wanted each other so why the hell dance around it. Just get a wall and go at it, hell
Pete wasn't picky if the scent's she caught coming off him were anything to go by.
Inside she knew she didn't mean any of it but the words had to come out, they needed to be released somehow. When she got to her room she locked the door and sobbed, the whispers taking a different turn now she was alone. Surrounded by her own scent, by the things she wore everyday,the voice became sweeter, deeper, telling her to
strip, to be bare,to show her skin. Finding her own hands numb under someone elses control as they slid over her layers, tenderly removing every stitch she wore.
Afraid of her own hands, of her mind and the whispers that never stopped she backed into a corner and stayed there. All the time the whispers in her mind gained strength her hands constantly running over her naked skin. Pinching, pulling, kneading her pale flesh until it bruised under her fingers. Images so complete filled her
field of view that she doubted what was real and what wasn't, even when Jean came to see her, double gloved and covered head to toe she still couldn't stop her hands from bringing her over the edge again.
Her body exhausted, tired beyond belief, her own mind long gone, subjegated under the needs of the Wolverine. Only when Jean had entered her head did she gain some control over her voice, the words she managed to grind out telling Jean of her true mental state. "Kill me or I'll kill you all. He hates you, he hates you all." Her eyes finding Jeans and showing her the depth of his need
for the red haired doctor and the hatred he felt because he knew he'd never have her."He hates you as much as he hates me."
After that Jean pushed the hypodermic empty into her arm, the sedative taking effect quickly, her resistance nothing to that of the mind she had inside her own. Even through the haze Marie could hear him screaming at her to kill every single one of them. Drifting into the darkness she allowed herself one wish, to be free, to be alone again in her own head but knowing it was never going to happen. She was *HIS* and would be til she died; even if the real version didn't give a damn. It was that thought that Jean caught and she sent it to Charles who picked up the phone dialling a number he'd promised he wouldn't unless it was an emergency. It seemed appropriate.
When the haze finally cleared from her head she wasn't in the med- bay, she wasn't even in the school. She was somewhere else entirely, somewhere where the only smells she could pick up were pine, dirt, and rain. She was laid out on wool blankets, suffused with a smell she knew, one she'd been craving since he'd left. Getting up slowly
she saw the solid door open to the small one room cabin, swinging her legs off the bed she put her bare feet to the floor. Logan was covered in a slicker, the rain running off him and puddling the wooden floor. He didn't miss a beat but pulled her up into his gaze, the voice in her head quiet for the first time in nine months. Her
eyes filling with tears as he just stared into her, "You with me kid?" Nodding furiously she let herself be held, not worried about the skin she had on show, he wouldn't let her hurt him. Hell he'd shown her enough ways around her skin in her head, she'd known it would come to this. She only hoped he wouldn't hate her for it, she had to be with him, it was the only way, the only way to be sane.
He let her go a little, looking into her deep brown and seeing the darkness he kept hidden just underneath her own gaze. "Bad?" She nodded, her voice breaking in parts when she told him about the things she'd tried to do to her friends. She told him everything, even the things he didn't remember doing, it was nearly dawn when she'd finished, talked out and tired but she felt clean. They were holding each other on the bed, his gloved hand stroking her face as it rested on his lap. He touched her lips and made her look at him, "Do you hate me?" she didn't answer him, how could she? She needed him, he was the only one that stopped the voice, that constant voice that whispered in the night. The one that told her to
kill, to steal, to maim and make it painful, to scar flawless skin, to rape, to humiliate, it was him, all of him wrapped up in her head. Wolverine and Logan, her own moods expanded by his own rage, his own feelings of hatred and self-loathing. It was just as much her as it was him and she knew that, even the nastier parts of him
had found a willing partner in her own mind. They fitted whether she liked it or not. Clearing her throat she answered him, her throat raw and voice scratchy, "No, do you hate me? For being here?"
His face softened then, the warmth of his eyes actually easing her hurt, shaking his head but keeping her gaze in his own. "No, how can I, you know me. All of me, good an' bad. Rest is just getting to know which bits are you in there." She felt herself relax then, able to sleep in his embrace knowing she wouldn't hurt him, couldn't hurt
him anymore than she already had. Finally at peace she drifted with nothing but her own voice in her head.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
It's always made me wonder how Marie would cope with the darker side of Logan's abilities, how her own mind and body would react to the invasion of such a powerful entity and this is my take on it (or one of them).