She's always had nightmares. They started just after she got her powers. Her curse. Some of them are hers. Most aren't.
There's Cody. His face, drained of life. The look on their faces when they saw what she'd done. Her parents, telling her to leave and never return. She didn't even visit him in the hospital.
Freak!
Some nights, she's strapped to the Statue of Liberty again, crying. Her wrists are raw and bleeding , but she can't pull them through the metal cuffs. But this time, there is no Logan to save her. She opens her eyes just as a wave of death sweeps across New York City.
Are you going to kill me?
Other nights, she dreams of a concentration camp, of a little boy with unimaginable powers. She knows what it's like to be truly starving. To be on the brink of death. Those nights, she isn't screaming when she wakes up. She's crying.
I say, we are the cure!
There's Logan. She remembers being an animal, an experiment. Just flashes, bits and pieces, but it's enough. She remembers ripping men apart with gleaming claws. She remembers the terror of not knowing who she is.
She remembers pain, and grief, and fear, and pure hatred. She dreams of loneliness, of desperation, of pure destructive rage.
But she's used to those dreams. She's used to remembering the past, whether or not it is her past. It's the new dreams that scare her.
They started when John left. She remembers that moment like it's a picture, frozen with Bobby's ice. She wanted to tell herself that John would never betray them. That he only went with Magneto because he had no other choice.
She's lying to herself, and she was never very good at that.
Her new dreams aren't of what has already happened. They are of what could happen, what will happen if things keep going the way they are.
Bobby, his body burnt beyond recognition, his eyes melted in their sockets. His skin is black, flaking off in the wind. If she were to touch him, he'd crumble into a pile of ashes, like a house of cards that someone breathed on too hard.
And John, encased forever in ice, his eyes wide and staring, pleading with her. She beats her fists against the ice, even though she knows he's dead. She screams until her throat is raw, begging for this to not be real.
When she wakes up, blood is pooling in four crescent moons on each of her palms. She looks for Bobby, but he isn't there. He's off fighting again, and she's stuck here with a sprained ankle, worrying if tonight her nightmare will become reality.
She dreams of betrayal.