Title: Lost Souls, Part IV: Innervoice
Author: Jamie
Email: madjm@mac.com
Category: AU Logan/Marie. Some angstin' going on.
Rating: PG-13, because Marie has a potty mouth.
Disclaimer: X-Men and its characters are owned by a bunch of people. Sadly, I'm not one of them, or I'd have money. But I don't, so please don't sue me. Title and lyrics come from Hooverphonic, off their "a new stereophonic sound spectacular" CD.
Summary: It's easy to share secrets when you're cell mates.
~~~~
Fear is talking
in my head consulting
But my innervoice it says
that I'm falling
Could you be the pillow
that solves this problem
Sometimes I want to
close my eyes and trust you
But my innervoice it says
that I'm falling
Could you be the rock
that solves this problem
~~ Hooverphonic
Never again.
Never would she allow alcohol to pass her lips. Not a swig. Not a sip. Not a drop. Ever. Please, God, just leave my head attached to my body and I'll be a good girl.
Marie shifted slightly and shivered as the cold from the floor seeped into her clothes, chilling her. It wasn't the first time she'd passed out on the bathroom floor. There were certainly worse places. But there would be no more passing out, no more drinking. Not for this girl, no siree.
She did a mental check of her condition, which -- to use a technical term --sucked. She was cold, and her skin felt bruised. She wondered if she'd hit her head on the way down, because it felt so much worse than the average hangover. And Marie knew hangovers well. Her stomach, at least, felt relatively calm.
Marie cautiously opened her eyes, startled to find she wasn't in the bathroom at all. There was a gray wall in front of her eyes that she'd never seen before. At least, she didn't remember seeing it.
She lifted her head a fraction. Not a good idea. Oh, God.
"Oh, God," she groaned.
Was she dying? She thought she might be. The small movement was enough to send the room spinning and make her realize she had been a wee bit cocky about the state of her stomach. She dropped her head on the floor and groaned again for good measure. OK. So, no moving. Moving -- bad. Staying here -- good. Glad we got that straightened out.
"Marie?"
She knew that voice, but it took her a moment to place it. "Logan?" she croaked, not moving her head.
"Are you OK?" His voice was coming from behind her.
"Not feelin' my best at the moment," she said. "If you wanted to, say, stab me through the chest with those claws and put me out of my misery, I'd be eternally grateful."
A pause, then a slight chuckle. He thought she was kidding. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Um ..." Remembering required thinking, and her thinker wasn't at its best. "I remember ... Dancing. Drinking and dancing."
Shit. Make that drinking and slutting it up on the dance floor with some sleazeball frat boy. Then, even worse, throwing herself at Logan. And then freaking out like some kind of psycho. God. Why couldn't she be one of those people who forgot all the damn fool things they did while under the influence?
She'd had quite a bit to drink, but this splitting headache was beyond all she'd ever felt while hung over before. Had there been more drinking? She fought past the pain in her head, mumbling almost to herself. "I remember puking. I remember the puking in excruciating detail. Bleech. I went ... to apologize for freaking out, and I saw ..."
Fred.
Marie sat straight up, willing her head to stay on her shoulders and her stomach to be still. I will not throw up, I will not throw up, I will not throw up. Do you hear that, stomach? Stay right where you are. It was touch-and-go for a moment before her stomach decided to settle down and her head decided to stay put.
"Fred," she gasped.
"What?"
She leaned back against the wall with a groan, taking in their surroundings. They were in a gray room. Perfect. Suddenly, she couldn't seem to get away from the color gray. If she ever got out of this place, she was going south. Florida, maybe, where they painted all their buildings pink and watermelon colors.
Logan was on the other side of the tiny room, his eyes on her, sprawled on a bed. A cot, really, and she saw that one of his arms was chained to it.
"What about Fred?" he asked again.
"He was hurt," she whispered, tears welling up as she remembered her dog on the floor, barely breathing. Yes, damn it, he was her dog. And if she ever got ahold of the person who hurt him. ... She'd think of a proper punishment when the slightest movement of her head didn't make her whimper.
"I'm sure he's OK," Logan said, but his voice didn't sound too sure. "He's not here, so they must've left him. The motel manager would've found him."
Marie wasn't sure if she believed him, but thinking otherwise was just too painful. Poor Fred just couldn't get a break. Why'd he have to hook up with her, anyway? Couldn't he have found a nice family with two happily married parents and 2.5 children living in the suburbs with a big back yard and a steady diet --they'd never feed him pretzels and tater tots -- and people who would play with him all the time and --
"He's fine," Logan repeated, and Marie nodded slightly, so as not to dislodge her head.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. Still north, though. I can smell the snow."
She pointed to the chain. "You could break through that in a second," she said. "What's goin' on?"
He hesitated. "You don't remember?"
Closing her eyes, she focused. "Last thing I remember was findin' Fred in your motel room," she said finally.
"You woke up once before," he said. "They ... they put that collar around your neck."
Her eyes snapped open and she grabbed her throat. Sure enough, there was a metal and plastic collar. "What is it?"
"I'm not exactly sure. But it ... hurts you. It knocked you out. They said if I tried to escape, they'd use it on you."
Marie traced the collar with her fingers. There didn't seem to be a way to get it off. Great. "That's great. Who the hell are 'they'? The same ones that turned you into Metal Claw Guy?"
He sighed. "This is someone different. His name's Magneto. I don't really know him, and I don't know what the hell he wants me for. I'm just sorry they got you, too."
Marie inched toward the cot. "Would you mind some company up there? I'm cold."
He didn't answer, instead reaching out and helping her up, settling her against his body.
"Mmmm, warm," she muttered into his chest. "So, why--"
"Just get some rest," Logan said. "We'll talk when you wake up."
She was asleep before he finished speaking.
***
"Isn't that sweet?"
Marie barely registered the unfamiliar voice, but Logan's growl brought her completely awake. A short, dark-haired man was staring down at them, a strange smile on his face.
"Who're you?" Marie asked.
"I'm the one who brought you here, my pretty," he said in a sing-song voice, slipping into a wicked imitation of the witch from "The Wizard of Oz." "I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too."
"You son of a bitch!" Headache forgotten, Marie was off the bed in a flash, crashing into the man, who was laughing in a creepy sort of giggle. The laugh ended abruptly as her fist slammed into his nose, and she smiled grimly as she felt the crunch of bones under her fist. This bastard hurt Fred, and he was going down.
Her triumph was all too brief. A second later, a foot to her stomach sent her flying back against the wall, her head slamming into it with an audible crack.
Logan snapped his chain and jumped for the other guy, claws out.
"That's enough!"
Logan froze in mid-swing. Marie rubbed the back of her head and wondered if she had a concussion. It actually appeared that Logan was a few inches off the ground, hovering. The other man, ignoring the blood pouring from his own nose, cackled and sent a punch into Logan's gut. Logan didn't move a muscle.
"Toad! I said that's enough," a voice from the doorway ordered.
Marie reluctantly turned her attention to the man in the doorway. He was an older, gray-haired gentleman, and gentleman seemed to be the right word, despite the circumstances. He was almost distinguished looking, in dark pants and a dark button-down shirt. He held a hand up in Logan's direction; with the slightest move of his hand, Logan was propelled backward into the wall behind the bed.
This must be the guy Logan had mentioned, Marie decided. The bad guy. Magenta? Mannequin? Magnet something? Magneto.
He came toward her and helped her up, letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Really, Toad. She's just a girl."
Toad held a hand to his nose. "Broke my nose."
Magneto led her to the bed. "My dear, that wasn't nice."
Marie shook her head slightly. She felt a little like Alice in Wonderland. Was she supposed to apologize? She almost felt the need to, but seeing Logan sit up next to her with a wince cured her of the urge.
"What do you want with us?" she asked.
"All in good time," Magneto said. "I thought you might like something to eat. Toad --" He waved a hand at his underling, who grabbed a large tray from the floor and carried it over.
"Rest up, children," Magneto said, smiling benevolently before ushering Toad out of the room.
Marie looked at Logan, who was frowning at the door.
"Well," she said slowly. "That was interesting."
"I just wish I knew what he wanted," Logan said.
"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," she said, leaning forward to look at the tray of food. Oatmeal. Yuck. She hated oatmeal, but she had a feeling her body needed some food. She reached for a bowl, and Logan held her hand back.
"What're you doin'?"
"Eatin'," she said. "What's it look like?"
"It could be drugged."
She shrugged. "So, then I get a few more hours of sleep. Big whoop."
He snorted. "That's one way to look at it."
They ate in silence, finishing the oatmeal, fruit and water in just a few minutes. Logan shoved the tray off the bed and stretched out again, pulling her down beside him. "You OK, kid? How's your head?"
"I think you reach a certain point when the pain in your head just can't get any worse," she said. He probed her scalp with his fingers, and she yelped. "Shit! I was wrong, OK? Don't touch it."
"Sorry."
She cuddled closer to him. "It's OK. You just startled me is all."
"No, I meant, I'm sorry for all of this."
"Not your fault," she said. "Shit happens, you know?"
They were quiet for a few minutes. Marie wished for sleep, but despite her her body's condition, she didn't feel a bit sleepy. Might as well finish what she'd started out to do in the first place. "Logan, you awake?"
"Yeah. You?"
She laughed. "No. I'm talkin' in my sleep."
"I meant ... you can't sleep, either?"
"No." She buried her nose in his flannel shirt and sighed. "I wanted ... I need to apologize for the other night."
"No you don't. I--"
She lifted her eyes to his and spoke over his protest. "Yes, I do. I wigged."
"Wigged?" A slight smile tugged at his mouth.
"Wigged out. Freaked. Went around the bend. Lost my marbles."
"It's OK."
"I just wanted you to know, if we, like, die or something --"
"We're not gonna die."
She sighed again. "OK. Whatever. I just wanted you to know that it really had nothing to do with you. I have some ... personal problems."
"You wanna tell me about it?"
Marie hesitated. She had planned to tell him before; it was just hard after holding it all in this whole time. She certainly couldn't look at him while she spoke. She snuggled her head into his chest again. "It's a long story."
"I ain't goin' anywhere."
"Well ... my best friend, Maggie, always says the best stories start with 'There was this guy...'"
"OK." Marie wondered if she imagined his arms tightening around her. "So, there was this guy ..." he prompted.
"His name was Seth. He was a senior in college; I was a freshman. He was gorgeous, and all the girls wanted him, including me. He was tall and athletic, and smart and funny, and he had dark hair and these beautiful gray-green eyes. I was ... taken with him, I guess you could say."
Logan growled, and she laughed a little, tilting her head up to look at his face. He looked embarrassed. "Sorry," he said. "Go on."
"I guess the story doesn't really start with him," she mused. "It starts with me. Like I said, I was a freshman. I barely squeaked by my first semester because of too much wasting time and partying."
She'd had big plans for the summer before college. She'd been saving money and planning for her Alaska trip for years, but just a few weeks before she was to leave, her parents broke the news. Her grandmother was ill, and Marie and her mother were going to spend the summer in Tulsa taking care of her. As much as Marie had ranted and whined and cried and begged, she was packed off to Tulsa right after graduation.
"I was so childish," she told Logan. "I didn't speak to Momma hardly at all that summer. I did my chores and took my turns sittin' with Grandma, but other than that I stayed to myself. I was just hateful to Momma the whole time. I couldn't see past my own selfishness."
It was the same when she got to school. Frankly, college wasn't something that interested her much, and she couldn't even rouse herself to choose a major. She barely made it to her classes, she bought cheat notes and term papers off the Internet and she faked her way through her tests. And she flirted with boys and drank and went to every party on campus. At one of the parties, she met Seth. It was instant attraction, and they started dating right after that.
Marie fell silent, and Logan tugged on her hair. "What happened?"
"The usual, I guess. He told me he loved me. I believed him. I ... slept with him. Once he got what he wanted, he broke up with me. I'm sure he was screwing around on me the whole time, but I managed to ignore the signs. I didn't want to see it. I wanted to believe he loved me. That I was lovable."
This time, she knew his arms tightened around her.
"I guess that's a typical story," she said. "I'm sure I'm not the only girl he did that to. He was just into the challenge, you know? It hurt. A lot. But I would've gotten over it. But then I found out I was pregnant."
Marie remembered the feeling of horror, the helplessness and the rage she felt when she saw the home pregnancy test mocking her with its little blue plus sign. Why did they make it a plus sign, anyway? Like getting knocked up was a good thing. They should've made it a minus, or better yet, a skull-and-crossbones.
She didn't leave her room for a week. She sat in the dark, crying and raging at the injustice of it all. It was just so unfair. One time. Leave it to Marie Gordon to get pregnant the first time she had sex, despite the fact that they had used a damn condom. One time, and her life was ruined.
It was all Seth's fault for doing this to her. It was her parents' fault for not letting her go to Alaska. It was her friend Dahlia's fault for telling her that Seth was a great catch. It was God's fault for letting her get pregnant.
She didn't blame herself. Not then. That came later.
"Seth, obviously, wanted nothing to do with it," she told Logan. "Not his problem, I think is how he put it. I knew I had to tell my parents, but I kept putting it off. I knew they would be so disappointed in me. But I told them. I went home for the weekend and told them everything."
She knew they'd be disappointed; she thought she'd prepared for it. Somehow, she hadn't expected her Momma to cry and her Dad to threaten to throw her out on the street. It was easy to be angry at her father for being so cold, but how was she supposed to handle making her mother cry? Her Dad decided that she'd give the baby up for adoption. They'd pull her out of school and support her until she gave birth, then she was on her own. And she'd have to give up her baby. No discussion, no decision for her to make. Adoption. The end.
"The next day, Momma was takin' me to the doctor's office. She was yellin' at me the whole time. How I was tryin' to ruin my life and I was so stupid. Didn't I know boys were only after one thing? Hadn't she told me that? She was so busy yellin' ... she ran a stoplight."
She saw it happen again in her mind, and it was like the Red Dream. She couldn't stop the tears. Logan let her cry, rubbing her back and whispering something she couldn't quite catch that made her feel safe. Safe. In a cell, held captive by Magnet Man and his pet Toad. Swell. Her tears slowed, and Logan wiped her face with the bottom of his shirt.
"Thanks," she said with a watery laugh.
"Any time." He cleared his throat. "You don't have to finish."
"Am I boring you?" she asked, smiling.
"No. It's just ... hard for you."
"Actually, talking about it is making me feel better," she said, surprised that it was true. Maybe there was something to the whole therapy notion.
Logan nodded, and she cuddled closer to him again. She inhaled his scent. Cigars and aftershave and a smell that was just him. It made her smile, despite the memories.
"Momma was killed," she said. "And I ... I had a miscarriage." Just a few words, and they could hardly describe how she'd felt. Losing her mother and her child at the same time was devastating, and she couldn't help but think that being allowed to live through it was more a punishment than a blessing.
"You blame yourself." It wasn't a question.
"If I hadn't gotten pregnant, she wouldn't have been yellin' at me --"
"It's not your fault." When she just shrugged, he tilted her head up and stared into her eyes. "It's like you said before. Sometimes, shit happens. There's nothing you could do."
"I know that," she admitted. "On some level, I do know that. I just can't forgive myself."
Logan sighed and kissed her gently. She stared at him with wide eyes. "It wasn't your fault," he repeated firmly, brushing his fingers over her lips. "Because I say so."
She startled herself by giggling. "Well, then, if the Wolverine says so, it must be true."
"Damn straight," he said, giving her a smacking kiss and drawing another laugh out of her. "Try to get some rest now. I think we're gonna need it."
Surprisingly, she didn't have the Red Dream. She slept like a baby.
***
Logan's growl woke her up again. Wincing, she let him pull her into a sitting position. She tried to decide if there was a place on her body that didn't hurt but came up empty. Magneto and Toad stood in the doorway.
The older man made his way into the room, smiling faintly. "I was rather angry with Toad for bringing the young lady into this," he said. "But now I see it was all for the best. To tame the wild beast, so to speak."
"What do you mean?" Logan growled, and she could almost see the blades itching to come out of his knuckles.
"Impatient, aren't we? I need you to do a favor for me."
Logan told him exactly what he could do with his "favor," and Magneto laughed. "Such language. You should watch your mouth in front of the young lady."
Marie decided to speak up. "Logan's not doin' shit for you, you bastard."
Logan laughed, and Magneto frowned.
"Young people today have no manners," he complained.
"Gee, sorry," Marie said. "I didn't get the handbook on kidnapping etiquette. My bad."
Magneto dismissed her with a wave and turned back to Logan. "I only need you to do this one thing for me. I believe you're acquainted with an old friend of mine, Charles Xavier."
Logan didn't answer, but Marie felt him tense beside her.
"Yes," Magneto continued. "I see that you are. I know you come and go as you please at his mansion. I want you to go there and kill Charles."
"Excuse me?"
"Charles and his little band of X-Men are becoming quite a nuisance, really," Magneto said. "Kill Charles, and the X-Men fall apart without their leader."
"No way," Logan said. "Not gonna happen."
"Ah," the older man nodded. "I thought you might say that. Toad?"
Toad came forward, a grin on his face. Marie felt her stomach drop. Toad had a small device in his hand, almost like a remote control. That was her last clear thought as pain lanced through her body, throwing her to the floor. She had tried to brace for pain around her neck, but it came from everywhere. Up and down her spine and into her head, which surely had fallen off by now, and all the way up her fingers and toes. She couldn't even catch her breath to scream.
"I said I'll do it, damn it!" Logan was shouting. "Turn it off. Turn it off or I'll gut you right now!"
The pain ended as suddenly as it began, leaving her entire body throbbing and bruised. She whimpered and pulled herself into a ball, barely registering Logan dropping down next to her and putting his arms around her.
"I'll kill Xavier," he muttered. "Just don't hurt her."