A/N: This follows on from Enter X-Factor, and although it does (hopefully) make sense in its own right if you haven't read (and reviewed, hint hint) that one before hand, please do. Also, I own nothing here and make no money... story of my life... Please review and let me know what you think.
Jamie Madrox: Identity Crisis
Chapter I: A Man Reborn
The Medical Wing, Xavier Institute
Rahne Sinclair found herself sitting in the chair she had spent so much time in over the last month. Despite the best efforts of Hank McCoy and Professor Xavier to dissuade her and get her to join the other students more often, she had practically lived in the medical ward for weeks now- but there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. She had been at the side of Jamie Madrox as he lay in a critical condition. At least, she thought it was him... she hoped it was him. With all her heart she had prayed fervently that he would wake up soon, and as the familiar, infectiously carefree boy she had grown very close to in the weeks before his accident. In fact, when she thought about it, the two of them had been... close... for much longer than that, but he had only managed to get up the nerve to ask her out a few days before his accident. Unfortunately the two young mutants had managed to get themselves mixed up in a strange and frightening turn of events that by the end involved mutant gangsters, Mr Logan himself and even SHIELD, high and terrifying company for a sixteen year old shapeshifter to find herself in. Like Rahne, Jamie had been a mutant, but where Rahne had the ability to transform into a wolf-like creature, or some kind of intermediary stage, Jamie had been able to create identical though wilful 'dupes'- exact copies of his body but with personalities and minds all their own.
They had stumbled across what they had thought to be another dupe going by the name James Maddox- but this one was somehow a good ten years older than Jamie, who they had thought to be the original. When the two had come into contact, Jamie had instinctively tried to reabsorb the dupe... or the apparent dupe had tried to reabsorb him. Either way something had gone horribly wrong, and now there was only a man somewhere both and neither of them at the same time, a sort of median version halfway between the two. The traumatic event had left Jamie in a coma and baffled even Xavier and Dr McCoy, two of the foremost experts on mutants alive.
Then earlier that week, and with no forewarning, Jamie had woken up. Unfortunately both his body and mind were still very weak, and he spent the few hours he did not relapse into speech being examined physically and psychically in order to work out just what exactly had happened.
"Hey, Rahne," a soft voice said, breaking into her thoughts. A warm hand placed itself over her own as it lay on the table and she saw Jamie had woken up again and was sitting up in the medical bed. He was still very weak and looked absolutely terrible- gaunt, wasted and apparently sleep-deprived despite how much time he spent unconscious. However, he was at least alive, and awake.
"Hey Jamie," Rahne said back. It was not exactly what she wanted to say, but then she was not entirely sure what she did want to say. It was all too much for her. Should she mention her own feelings- her worry when he had been comatose and her relief and something... else... something indefinable when he had finally woken up? Or should she just be grateful he was at least recovering and leave him in peace to completely heal?
"How long was I out this time?" Jamie asked. A sudden thought struck him, and he somehow managed to look curious, worried and pleased at the same time. "Tell me you haven't been here the whole time..."
"Not all the time," Rahne said honestly. "And it wasn't that long." Well, comparatively, she added in the comfort of her own mind. Her strict religious upbringing had left her reluctant to the point of fear of lying outright; she was still half-convinced her soul was damned purely by her mutation and felt no need to damage it further. Jamie smiled, and seemed about to say something when Hank McCoy bundled in, a blue-furred mass of muscle, brain and enthusiasm at the unusual case. He knuckled over to where Jamie was lying, seeming not to notice Rahne's presence.
"Jamie, good to see you awake again," he said cheerfully. "Off you go now, Rahne, you've barely left the room all week! You need the fresh air, I need a bit of space for a few tests, so come on now, off you go..."
Rahne reluctantly shuffled away but not without a last wistful smile at Jamie who returned a smile of his own. It faded almost as soon as Rahne had left the room and was replaced by a worried expression.
"A week? A whole week?" He demanded. "That can't be right..."
"Oh, you haven't been out the whole time," Hank assured him. "But over the last week or so your, shall we say, sleeping patterns have certainly been slightly... disturbed."
"It doesn't feel like I've slept at all," Jamie said. "Has she really been here all that time?"
"She has," Hank said. He looked at his patient thoughtfully before a small smile crept over his face, humanising and warming his normally leonine face. "She cares for you a lot, you know."
"No, she doesn't," Jamie said glumly. Hank raised an eyebrow but sensed there was more to it than pessimism brought on by illness. Jamie obliged by speaking further. "She liked-" he emphasised the past tense- "Jamie Madrox back then, not me now, whoever I am." He sounded unusually downbeat, but Hank had learned not to make assumptions about what mood Jamie would be in during his waking hours. Often the dupes would personify a particular aspect of Jamie's personality but with no dupes extant, the shifting emotions were contained in Jamie's psyche and apparently growing stronger and more unpredictable and Jamie had been somewhat mercurial to begin with.
"You know, that's not technically true," Hank said. "I've used a few DNA samples for a few tests and as far as I can tell the Jamie at the Institute really was the original, and apart from gaining a few years you are still Jamie, and not James."
"Trust me doc, it's really not that simple," Jamie said intently. "When I'm asleep, or whatever it is that happens to me I have these... dreams, visions or something. It's like memories, but they aren't the same as the ones I had before, before the, erm, accident. People are different or they end differently and sometimes they're of places and people I never even met before."
"They must be latent memories from the dupe, or maybe his personality has not been fully absorbed yet," Hank mused, stroking his chin pensively. "Fascinating..." He saw Jamie's worried expression and quickly corrected himself. "But also of course rather worrying..." He realised he had only made it worse- he was much better with test tubes and equations than emotions. "So I will make sure I get it sorted as soon as possible. Perhaps the Professor can help you out with that aspect, it seems more his field than mine."
"I hope so," Jamie said sincerely. "So what's next? Can I leave now?"
"No, we still need a few more tests first," Hank said apologetically. "It looks like physically you're stabilising but we need to be sure. We don't know if there's been any effect on your powers, either. If James had different powers to you there may be some kind of overlap effect."
"Well thanks for the reassurance," Jamie said darkly, though slightly unfairly. It wasn't Hank's fault that he had found himself in this state, all the doctor could do was check the side-effects and hopefully cure any bad repercussions. "Sorry, that wasn't fair."
"You're clearly feeling quite stressed by the situation, that's perfectly understandable," Hank assured him. "Let me just take a blood sample for testing..."
He produced a large needle and syringe from a pocket of his lab coat and waved it cheerfully. Jamie on the other hand was far from cheerful; in fact he was outright afraid. The needle was at least seven inches long and the syringe itself looked closer to holding a gallon than a pint. His eyes grew wide as the monstrosity edged closer to his exposed skin. Hank noticed his nerves and chuckled.
"Oh come on Jamie, you've faced down Apocalypse and merged with an entirely separate person and survived! How can you be afraid of a little needle?"
"I'm not, I'm afraid of an absolutely gigantic needle!" Jamie shot back. "It just brings back bad memories okay?"
"That's odd, you've never been frightened by needles before," Hank said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's memories of the other you resurfacing..."
"Look all I know is, before I came here I- or he, I don't know which- went to this, this laboratory place, okay? This was before mutants were common knowledge and before I was old enough to sign up here- so these guys working there didn't really know what they were dealing with," Jamie explained. "They did all these blood tests and other stuff and got absolutely nowhere... I guess I've just had enough of needles right now."
"Curiouser and curiouser," Hank thought aloud. "You've never mentioned this before, but if it is from another dupe then that is remarkable clarity. I think we'd better call Professor Xavier, because frankly... I don't have a clue where it goes."
"You and me both doc," Jamie conceded. "Alright, let's just get this done shall we?"
Hank quickly drew the blood sample he required and withdrew the needle. "All done."
"Well that was easy," Jamie said, sounding surprised. "Stupid subconscious, making me scared of needles, why? What's scary about-?"
"Ah, Jamie, good to see you up," a warm voice called from the entrance. Jamie had been so wrapped up in berating his own battered psyche that Xavier's entrance had taken him totally by surprise. He tried to look around but forgot the arm he had been leaning on for support had been moved. He ended up falling backwards off the bed with a grunt.
"That certainly seems like the Jamie I remember," Xavier joked. Hank couldn't help sniggering at that. Jamie, or at least one of his dupes, had often appointed himself Hank's assistant and although the extra pair of hands could come in very useful they caused more than enough problems of their own by being controlled by a literal scatter-brain. A hand grabbed hold of the bed, followed by a second as Jamie pulled himself upright- only to be followed by a third and then a forth. A second Jamie had popped into existence and now joined the original.
"Well, that was awkward," the dupe observed, brushing itself down. Jamie reabsorbed it, although not without a degree of nervousness. He was about to sit back on the bed when a voice intruded on the situation.
"Oh, the pain! I'm in agony! God, the pain! It hurts so bad!" It appeared to be another dupe, lacking either the fortitude or the willpower to climb back upright. Jamie scowled darkly and sucked it back up before they were crushed under the sheer melodramatic ham of the dupe.
"Okay Professor, do what you need to," he said. "It's not like I have any dignity left to lose any more is it..."
"At least your powers appear to be working again," Hank observed. Xavier wheeled across to Jamie and put a hand on his forehead.
"Try and relax your mind Jamie," he instructed. "This will be much easier for both of us if I can get it done quickly and easily."
Jamie closed his eyes and his breathing slowed as he tried to gain focus. Xavier quickly entered Jamie's mind. He had assumed his usual 'astral' form, a disembodied spirit body, but being incorporeal had its advantages- for one thing there was no need for his wheelchair. He came across a spirit-Jamie, who had never experienced anything like this before and was looking extremely confused.
"What's going on, Professor? What is the place?" As the 'host' mind it was Jamie who would be subconsciously shaping the surroundings. Even as Xavier began to explain, he found the vague misty shapes around them taking shape and coalescing into the familiar corridors of the Institute. It was touching, in a way, that Jamie felt the Institute to be the safest place to be in such situations.
"This is inside your mind," Xavier began. "Normally I would just be able to scan your thoughts and find out what has happened, but this is the first time I have even heard about something like this, and I think it's best to cover all possibilities."
Jamie just shrugged. He was in position to say otherwise. He watched the astral-Xavier walk away through the corridors but he had to spend a few moments getting used to the sight of the Professor walking before he remembered to follow. As they passed a few doors Jamie noticed that they were much thicker and heavier than the 'real' Institute's. He had a feeling that that had some kind of significance but was not sure what it was. He was so absorbed with the thought that he didn't notice Xavier had stopped and walked right into the back of him.
"I think it's probably better if you lead the way from here, Jamie," Xavier said kindly. Jamie looked around to find them at the foot of the main stairs.
"Really? I just... I don't much about this sort of thing, Professor," he admitted. "I mean, you're the expert here."
"But it's your mind we're in," Xavier explained. "If we want to find out the root of what happened, it has to be you who leads us there. If I tried we would just go where I think we should, or expect us to, and not necessarily to the real problem."
"That figures," Jamie said unconvincingly. Frankly this whole 'journey to the centre of the mind' business was beginning to freak him out a little. Actually, it was freaking him out a lot. Most people, certainly those who weren't telepaths, only ever used the top level of their minds, the thoughts and decisions; now he was taking a stroll through his own subconscious without a map and no idea what he was looking for. He eventually made his way up the stairs and was about to offer Xavier assistance when the bald telepath walked up to join him. Jamie liked the Professor and appreciated his help but there was no way he'd ever find that sight anything except extremely unnerving. He had seen the Professor in the wheelchair way too much to be comfortable with anything else.
Jamie decided that the Professor had been right to not make a conscious choice about where to go and instead just went where his feet decided felt right. At any junction he'd choose the direction that felt instinctive, and walked past all doors on the basis they didn't feel 'right'... until he got to one: the door to his room.
"Is this the right place, Jamie?" Xavier asked gently.
"Yeah," Jamie said uncertainly. "Whatever's going on it started here..." He reached towards the door but before he could open it, it burst open in his face so suddenly even Xavier stumbled in shock. Standing there was Jamie himself. It seemed even his mind had dupes as more and more Jamies strolled out of the room and surrounded the original.
"I really hope you've got a good explanation for this bit, Professor," Real-Jamie joked weakly.
"You want an explanation?" One dupe said. "Then you got it. We're through being little facets of your mind for you to create and destroy for your amusement! We're busting out, we're taking control-" the dupe grabbed a handful of Jamie's shirt and pulled him close, almost nose to nose- "you're just another obstacle in our way... for now." The dupe let go of his shirt, and pushed him away. As Jamie stumbled, the dupe swung a left cross that hit him in the face with enough force to snap his head around. The dupe lashed out again, this time hitting him in the stomach. Jamie bent double wheezing, but the dupe kicked out, smashing a foot into his jaw. Jamie found a pair of hands grabbing his arms and holding him in place as the dupe punched him again. Jamie managed to wriggle free just in time for a swift jab to catch him right in the face. His nose broke painfully and blood trickled down over his lips. Another of the dupes punched him in the kidneys and as he staggered painfully his legs were kicked out from underneath him and he fell on his back.
"Professor! Help me!" he wheezed plaintively. The dupe apparently in charge waved back the others but planted a foot on Jamie's chest to pin him down.
"He can't help you!" it said, grinning with malicious glee. "No-one can help you, no-one's going to save you... from yourselves." The other dupes closed in with identical grins and several of them chuckling malevolently. Although his head was ringing and his senses seemed to be growing numb, Jamie thought he could still hear Xavier's voice calling weakly.
"Wake up Jamie! You've got to wake-"
"-Up!" Jamie found himself back in the medical ward. He supposed if he had followed tradition he should have sat upright, brow pouring with sweat, but tradition be damned- his back was still incredibly painful and his head felt like a hatchet had been buried in his skull. He felt dampness on his chin and wiped at it experimentally. He was not totally surprised to find his finger smeared lightly with blood from his mouth and nose. Somehow the injuries he had sustained in his mind had transferred themselves to his physical body. He didn't know how that was possible, nor did he care; however the injuries had come about they hurt like hellfire. Hank hurried over and there was a new, stabbing pain in his arm. He looked down to see Hank had apparently shot him full of what seemed to be a painkiller or tranquiliser as the pain all over his body subsided to be replaced by a kind of comfortable numbness.
"My god, Charles, what happened to him?" Hank asked, aghast.
"Ahwaz beenuh buh mown mine." It seemed the numbness pervading his body had reached his tongue as he found it very hard to form the words 'I was beaten up by my own mind.' Hank's genius did not extend to translating gibberish, but Xavier managed to explain more coherently.
"Something has happened to his subconscious, the dupes no longer appear to be merely physical, but have somehow taken mental form as well. When he tried to resist them, well... you can see what happened."
"This is unprecedented," Hank said. "How is it even possible?"
"It's not," Xavier said grimly. "But when it comes to mutants I quickly learned that nothing is impossible anymore."
Jamie by now was trapped halfway between consciousness and sleep. Although not truly unconscious, his mind had grown foggy and vague and he found it hard to concentrate on anything. He made a valiant effort to overhear the conversation, though; this was as about as personal an interest as was possible.
"Has it got anything to do with James?" Hank mused. It was unclear whether he was merely thinking aloud or genuinely asking Xavier. "If he truly absorbed a fully independent mind, perhaps it somehow affected his own..."
"Yes... that might explain it," Xavier said, steepling his fingers. It was impossible to be excited or enthusiastic when one of his students was lying severely injured, but he did sound encouraged by the hypothesis- it would at least give him something to work on in his attempts to cure Jamie. "If there was some kind of psychic force involved in the process, perhaps there was some kind of shockwave affecting the part of him that gives the dupe personalities..."
"Do you really think that's the cause of all the problems?" Hank asked.
"I think it's as likely as any other theory," Xavier said. "It would explain a lot- Jamie would be unconscious so much as his mind tried to repair itself, and the slow recovery too- he is still trying to heal two bodies with one body's resources until he stabilises mentally..."
Hank said something else but all Jamie could hear was a wordless drone as unconsciousness finally overtook him completely and his world lapsed into darkness.
He woke up some time later to find that his body no longer twanged white-hot with every movement, although he still felt extremely stiff and painful. He was now naked from the waist up and someone had wrapped a bandage around his stomach at the level of his kidneys, he assumed to try and limit bruising and protect from further injury. He dabbed at his nose experimentally and although it was quite painful Hank had managed to reset it. Down in the medical ward he could not see out of a window to try and work out what kind of time it was, although at a primal level he sensed it to be some time very early in the morning- there was no sign of Hank, a giveaway in itself, as the blue-furred doctor kept notoriously long hours.
Jamie stretched, paused with a grunt of pain, and then tried again, this time more slowly. At the second attempt he managed to flex sore muscles without excessive discomfort. He tried to think back to what he had heard of the conversation between Xavier and Hank. The most pressing detail he could remember was the name James, the other self whose absorption had started all this off. He remembered mentioning that the other mind had been the one that had caused the original problems. Suddenly he realised what he had to do to solve the problem. Maybe it was a flash of miraculous inspiration or maybe it was part of his mind- perhaps it was James' mind, briefly rising to the surface- but somehow he realised he had to come to terms with the other psyche merged with his own. He had to either compromise or conquer it, but however he did it he had to make sure it was his mind that was dominant and in control. He also knew that before he could sublimate it, he had to understand it and know exactly what he was dealing with. And that meant finding out who James Maddox had been- his life, his relationships, his existence as an individual and not an altered dupe.
By now Jamie's mind was racing ahead, making associations and linking implications as he tried to work out what his next action should be. Clearly he would not get any answers by lying in a hospital bed being prodded and poked by Hank, and just as clearly neither Hank nor Xavier would let him go until they were convinced they had the answer- or at least believed him recovered enough to look out for himself. By pure serendipity he found himself in the perfect position to bypass their protests and sneak out while they could not stop him. He knew they would quickly discover his disappearance and start searching for him, but he had literally been living two lives until a few weeks ago- how hard could it be to do it again and reinvent himself, at least long enough for his task? It was dishonest and if he was honest, quite cowardly, to creep away like a thief instead of trying to state his case but he did not see he had a choice.
He levered himself out of the bed and saw his shirt had been slung over a chair. He quickly slipped it on and found his shoes. He pulled them on hurriedly and was about to sneak out when he heard a voice murmur his name. He very nearly cried out in shock and blew his chance but managed to keep his mouth shut. He looked around for the speaker but in the gloom could not make anyone out until his eyes fell on a second bed, but with the bedclothes wrapped around a sleeping body. He crept across and leaned over the sleeper, only to find himself looking at the familiar auburn hair and gentle features of Rahne. He smiled sadly. He was touched and flattered that Rahne had not given up her sentry duties, but he knew that he would have to abandon her like he had everyone else. Enough of the original Jamie Madrox remained in him for him to be sure he cared very deeply for the Scottish shapeshifter, too deeply perhaps.
"You're a jerk, Madrox," he berated himself under his breath. He was all too aware of how much his sudden vanishing act might hurt Rahne, but also aware that even that may end up as the lesser of two evils. She would be upset by his disappearance but what if he stayed and never got control of himself, or rather his selves? That could end just as badly, or possibly even worse- but the only difference being how much longer the mutual heartbreak might last. He had a sudden idea and slunk over to Hank's office. The furry genius had had far too much experience with New Mutants and their pranks to leave it unlocked but Jamie soon improvised a lock-pick and slipped through. He couldn't remember learning how to do that... perhaps some of James' skills had carried over with his mind and memories. He flicked a desk light on and soon located a notepad and a pen. The first few sheets of paper were covered in untidy scrawl- Hank's big paws did not lend themselves to neat handwriting- but he quickly pulled out a clean sheet and sat at the desk. He drummed his fingers as he tried to think of something to write. If he had been a romantic leading man he knew he would quickly whip up a poignant, thoughtful message or even a love sonnet; unfortunately he was just a very confused and conflicted young man about to break his girlfriend's heart, and no flowery language would change that fact. Eventually he decided to just write what came to mind, to go with his heart and not his brain- the former organ was far more reliable right now anyway.
Rahne
I'm writing this note for several reasons. The first is to apologise for what I've done. You are one of the most forgiving and charitable people I know but I don't expect you to excuse me for this, and I don't blame you for that. All those names you call me and the things you think, they're far too generous to me. I can't find the words to tell you how much I regret what I have to do.
The second thing is thanks. Thank you for everything you've done for me, looking out for me and keeping me company and just being there in my life. Thank you for showing me all the kindness and the generosity and the care you're capable of. As well as my best friend in life, you are also my inspiration. When I'm around you, the sun is brighter, my life is richer and I feel like the luckiest man alive.
The last and most important thing is something I don't think I ever said to you when I should have done- I love you. More than anything, and despite everything I've done, I truly love you and I think I always will. I only hope you find someone who can show you what love should be.
With all my heart,
Jamie
Jamie looked down at the letter. He was surprised at how readily the pen had transcribed his heart onto the page, but he only wished he had enough words to tell her his true feelings, if the language existed to do them justice. This was far less than she deserved but all he could manage. He only hoped she would understand the genuine emotion behind the clumsy words. He folded the note quickly but neatly and made his way back out of the office, turning off the light as he went. He made his way back over to the bed and looked down at the sweet, kind, wonderful girl who had given him the best weeks of his life. He quickly slipped the note under the pillow and on an impulse bent down and kissed her on the cheek. She rolled over but did not wake up, and so it was that no-one saw Jamie Madrox leave the Xavier Institute and out of the gates. He was several hundred yards down the road before his self-loathing overtook him and he punched a lamppost.
"Goddamnit!" The pain was of the heart not the body, but stung all the more for that. He felt the worst, most despicable man alive, but knew that for his sanity he had to complete his journey. He would have to forget Rahne, and hope she would forget him in turn.
