A/N: X-D thanks for the great reviews.


› Chapter 11 : things that can't be undone ›


"X-23. I think you know why I have called you here."

Emma sat at her desk, Laura stood by the door, her back ramrod straight.

" Please close the door."

Laura pushed on the heavy oak panel; it clicked shut. So final.

Silence.

"You will leave the school," Emma said, her eyes icy. Like diamond. "Do you understand? I will not permit you to put the students in any more danger."

Laura blinked. "I..."

" My students have died, before," Emma said fiercely. "Died, because I did not take enough measures to protect them. Every death weighs on my soul. I
am responsible." She paused. "If you care for the children...if you care for Julian...you will understand. You will leave, regardless."

Laura bowed her head. "Yes."

She turned and opened the door; Emma got up, and followed her.

...

"Laura?"

Julian paused at the slightly open door and peered into the empty room. He frowned, wondering where she could have gone-he'd made up his mind to talk to
her, find out where they stood. Last night had irritated him, and he didn't want it to happen again.

He pushed the door open farther, thinking he would wait for her in the chair. This had to be said now. His eye caught her bed, still made, with a bag sitting on it.

Frowning, he moved towards it, and peered in. Half of her belongings had been placed inside, neatly rolled up. He poked through her corsets, wondering how she
could have so little in the world. Then it struck him-why were her belongings in a bag?

She can't leave, he thought. He noticed the corner of a book sticking out from under the tops he'd moved, and he reached in and took it out. It was a child's
book--'The Adventures of Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi'. It was sky blue with odd red splats all over it. Decorations? He held it up for inspection. No, blood. What
a weird thing to have--she was his age.

He opened it; there was a packet of yellowed papers inside. Handwritten letters in neat, cursive handwriting. He riffled through them, not even thinking about
how he was violating her privacy; there seemed to be two sets. One was absolutely soaked in blood-something very terrible must have happened. The other
was clean, wrinkled, spotted in places like it had been wet once, but still legible.

Crinkle, the paper in his hands as he began to read.

Please forgive me. Even as I write the words, they ring so hollow. My mistakes...no, my CHOICES...they cannot be undone, much less forgiven. All I can do
now is tell you what happened. How all this came to pass...and the truth about Weapon X.

He frowned.

Had it ended there, would I be less of a monster? Or more? Would I even know the difference? Of course I don't have to tell you about monsters. Your life is
defined by monsters. " Unlimited resources and no political or legal restraints on your work. That's what we have to offer, Dr. Kinney..." I was told. The sample
provided was damaged. Replicating the mutant genome proved difficult...but rebuilding weapon x seemed all but impossible. For every enzyme, for every codon,
for every sequence we repaired, or even built back from near nothingness, we seemed to be missing a million more.

But I felt alive. The work, the failure, the challenge. It was like a brilliant light, shining inside me. I felt...like my life had a purpose. What a fool I was.

The Y chromosome could not be duplicated.

I was defiant in the face of my failures. I was determined to succeed out of spite. Weeks passed. I worked on two projects, living two lives. I was used to that.
I had kept secrets before. It seems so incredible to me now, that in all that time, given everything that I knew...what I was doing and what the end result would
bear...I didn't give it a second thought.

I told myself that you weren't real.

I told myself that this was science...not life. I was creating a weapon...not a child. I was wrong.

When I was little, I always believed that everything that happened to me-I deserved. That we ALL get deserve. Maybe I was right. The project--you--was to be
terminated, because a candidate to surrogate could not be found. No longer the experimenter, I was now part of the experiment. A vessel to be poked and
prodded. To be violated. They certainly didn't care about me...not with a weapon to train. A team of physicians, psychologists, nutritionists and military
strategists now ran my life. They watched my every move...but they didn't see everything. I ASKED you for forgiveness before. Now I'm TELLING you...don't
forgive me. Don't forgive ANY of us for what we did. Ever.

I remember everything...everything we did to you...and you deserve to know why we did these things. Your training was designed to strip you of your
humanity. After all, in the eyes of the Program, you weren't human...you were a weapon. A weapon I willingly conceived for them.

I made Kimura, too. The horrible woman who would torment you, for a lifetime. Who would punish you for things you for wrongs you had not committed.
I made her before you were ever born, not knowing the connection. It doesn't make me any more innocent.

I should have known.

Our orders were to keep you from gaining any sense of self...something they said would compromise our ability to control you. We were never to treat you as a
child, only as a weapon...but not everyone followed those orders....I'm grateful for that. They did not escape punishment, however. Sutter wanted to complete
your construction...but that wasn't possible while your healing factor was dormant. You would never survive the surgery...so Rice was given permission to take
whatever steps necessary to activate your X-gene.

He chose radiation poisoning. You nearly died, that day.

Unfortunately, Rice was right. The radiation worked. Now nothing stood in their way...especially me.

I only found out later what happened...that your claws were extracted one by one...that he sharpened, then coated them with the indestructible metal, adamantium,
outside of your body. Without anesthetic. It was never supposed to be like that. So much wasn't. I should have known what was coming...not that I could have prevented
it...but I would have tried. The next stage of your training had begun. The trigger scent. They took advantage of your mutant powers-they tortured you, physically and
mentally, in presence of the scent, until a drop would make you kill anything in sight. No matter who it was.

I'm sorry...so sorry...for what was done. They made you kill the only person that ever treated you like a child. A student. They smiled as they watched. A child--a seven
year old child--forced to kill--and kill--and the sick bastards watched, enjoying it. Perverted. And I watched too.

When it was time for your first field test...the target was chosen with a flip of a coin. Who it was didn't matter. As long as the target was " high profile"...and couldn't be
gotten to. Sutter needed to make a statement. And you delivered it to the world. Twenty-two minutes. Twenty-two minutes to kill twenty-seven innocent people, twelve
women, and two boys, ages thirteen and fifteen.

I wanted to understand why we were doing this. I told Martin I needed to understand...why you had to publicly kill an innocent man, his family and so many others. So,
he told me...he said, it's simple. You can't sell anything...without advertising.

That's what this was all about. The buying and selling of lives for profit. Not saving the world, or taking it over. No, this was about money. A lot of it. Martin sold you for a
million dollars a pound...and as you know by now, there was no shortage of buyers.

Rice was right. I didn't matter. Not to them. Not to you. Not to anyone. All I could do was watch. While you were forced to kill...and kill...and kill...and kill...

You killed royalty. Godfathers. Drug lords. Dictators. Anyone... everyone...for a price. For three long years, you murdered without fail. Every target they marked, you
killed. Every time limit they set, you beat. Every rendezvous point they plotted, you reached...except one. The one where Rice was waiting for you.

When Rice came back from the mission, he told us what happened. He said...that you didn't make the rendezvous in time. That he had to abort the mission when the
team started taking fire. And that he saw you die. But I didn't want to believe him.

You never told me what happened. How you survived. How you made your way back. Why didn't you tell me? Maybe you blamed me. I hope you did.

I hope you never blamed yourself.

For so long, I held myself above Sutter and Rice. They made you a killer. They were the ones using you. But all it took was one phone call to open my eyes and see...I was
just like them. I used you. I used you, to save my niece, your cousin. By killing. You had no choice.

They say in life that we are judged by the choices we make...they are what define us.

I chose to bring you into this world. I chose to stay in the program even after they stripped you of your humanity...and molded you into a weapon. I'm responsible for
everything that has happened...for all the pain...for all the death...for everything you've suffered. Because I had a choice...when you had none. And I chose to do nothing.

I always assumed it was Rice that cut you. He hurt you so many times in the past...he almost killed you twice...I never wanted to believe...that it was you.

The damage I've done...I can never forgive myself.

You couldn't stop what Rice made you do...made you murder Sutter's family...but somehow you managed to save Henry and to tell me the truth. We means there is
hope...you showed me we failed. You are not a weapon. You are a child, still. I don't know how part of you survived, but I am grateful. I cannot find words to
describe how grateful I am that not all of you is dead.

Always remember you are not to blame. You did not pick this life. We...I forced it upon you. Raped your mind. The blood you have spilled is on my hands, not yours. And
please understand why I must ask you to kill one last time. Because tonight, what you do is right. Tonight, what you serve is justice. Tonight, you take back the life we
stole from you. I give you Rice's life, in trade for your own.

I never wanted a family. My father stripped me of that desire. He took my childhood...my innocence...my life...and then I took yours. I became what I hated and
feared most...and then you became my victim. But then you showed me hope. Not when you saved my niece, Megan, but when you saved Henry. You showed me
that we can choose to be something other than what we have been forced to be...that we can be something better than what we believe we are.

And in that moment, you saved my life. All that matters to me now is that I save yours. I wish we could just run away without any more bloodshed...but if we
don't stop them, they will never stop. The will do it all over again. They've already started. After tonight, we'll just keep moving and never look back. We'll start
a new life...have a future...be a family.

I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you these things. There is so much more that I want to tell you, and I will...but one thing you must always remember...no matter what
has happened...and no matter what may come...

You are a child. Not a weapon. You are my daughter...and I love you. My Laura, not X-23. Never X-23 again.

Your mother,

Sarah

Julian stared at the paper. A motion caught his eye, and he looked up just in time to see Laura stomping towards him, furious. She snatched the packet from his
fingers, and he offered no resistance, still dumbfounded.

"This is mine!" she shouted. He'd never seen Laura angry. Even when she killed. She was always perfectly emotionless, perfectly controlled. Now he knew why.

" You had no right! You..." she folded the papers. "Now you know why I am leaving."

" Laura-" he froze. Emma was at the door.

" She is leaving," she said coldly. "You will offer no resistance."

"But-" Julian held out his hand. "Laura, you can't-"

The girl paused, her bag now on her shoulder. She'd stuffed the remaining possessions in, and the book with the letter.

"I...you are a good friend, Julian. Your friends are lucky. Goodbye." She turned away.

" LAURA!" Julian leapt to his feet and caught her sleeve, his eyes welling up slightly, despite himself. He knew now...he didn't want her to go. Quite desperately.

" Sleep," Emma said. His eyes rolled up and he toppled to the floor.

...

Julian stared at the book in front of him, not really seeing it. He kept wanting to glance back, but he knew Laura wouldn't be there. Just another empty seat, and
this one bothered him the most of all the empty seats in the class--more than Sofia's, even.

Much more, to be honest with himself.

He couldn't concentrate on anything...this was perhaps the most painful, distracting event that had happened to him lately. He didn't understand it.

...

" JULIAN!" Cessily ran after him in the hall and caught his sleeve. "Why are you walking off all on your lonesome? You look like hell!"

He looked down. "I don't want to talk about it, Cess." He pulled away; she stood, staring after him, shell-shocked. Julian never brushed her off without saying something--
even when he'd been upset about Sofia.

Santo came up behind her. "Don't take it personal, Cess. His fanclub went packing. He's feeling the freedom now...hey, maybe we should take up the call of duty, eh?" he grinned.

" Wha-Laura LEFT?" Cessily gasped. " Oh no! Why would she leave?"

" Beasts me," Santo said. "Personally...I'm glad. She had my pebbles crawlin' uphill, that one did. She was like them Predator X things."

" Shut up, Santo," Cessily said angrily. "I liked Laura. And Julian-I think he really, really liked Laura. Poor him...first Sofia, now this..."

...

"Julian," Sooraya said in surprise, opening her door to see the ex-leader of her previous squad. "Can I help you?"

"No..." he flushed. "This is going to sound weird-can I come sit on her bed for a while? I think I need to talk to someone who spent time with her..."

Sooraya raised an eyebrow, then opened the door all the way. She knew he meant Laura. It had been a week now.

...

" KELLER!"

Julian's head whipped around. He was on the back porch, staring out across the property-and saw that Logan-Wolverine-had just emerged from the main building. He was
stomping towards him. He didn't look all that pleased.

" Where the hell is Laura?" he asked him, his eyes flashing.

Julian looked down.

" She--she left," he said, his voice still a bit choked. "A month ago."

Logan's claws popped. Snikt. Such a familiar sound, only heavier, from the third claw. "I'm gonna kill you!" he shouted. "I told you all not to give her trouble! She's not
here now to stop me, and I'm going to kill you, punk!"

"I didn't want her to leave! I-"Julian said angrily.

Logan sniffed the air. Snff. "You've been crying," he observed.

" No I haven't," Julian said, reddening. "I don't cry."

" The hell you don't," Logan said. He put his hands in the pockets of his jackets, fishing for his cigarettes. "So you fell for my clone, huh? That's pretty creepy, even for me."

"..." Julian folded his arms. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his lip curling. " I didn't fall for Laura."

"That's why you're out on the porch, sniffling, when absolutely no other shit has hit the fan lately," Logan said. "Yup. Makes perfect sense to me." He pulled out a stick and
stuck it in his mouth, then flicked the lighter on the end. "I'm so fucking pissed off. I leave for a bit--to track down one kid in Japan--and my other one goes on the fritz.
Can't you people do anything right?"

"I tried to stop her," Julian said, looking across the property again. "She just didn't listen. She's stubborn." He wasn't sure what had happened with Ms. Frost, so he didn't
mention anything.

" Heh," Logan said. "Well--what're you gonna do about it? Laura's made up her mind, she's made up her mind. You'll get over it."

" I guess."

...

Laura tilted the sniper rifle, adjusting it slightly to focus on her target, a head with a comb-over. The head of a man seated at a café on the street corner; she was on
top of a two story building, kneeling at the edge.

Keep in touch, Kingpin had said. She'd done just that--she was safer in a world where she didn't care who she killed, ready for the next shoe to drop. She hadn't allowed
herself to think about anything but work--she had been very disciplined, and three months had passed.

The only hard times were nights, when her body was tired, but her mind was not. She'd put the shirt back in her bag after the first week, knowing it was better not to
reinforce this impulse. Neural pathways in the brain only grew stronger with each repetition of the stimulus.

It hadn't helped--really--but she was okay. There was always somebody that needed to die--according to Fisk--and thus there was always plenty of work. She'd begun
to amass quite a good amount of money--her small fortune of one hundred forty-seven thousand six hundred and ninety-two dollars had doubled, tripled, and then grown
close to nine hundred thousand dollars. She didn't know what to do with it, so she kept it in the duffle bag--in the main compartment, with Julian's shirt on the end pocket
to keep the scents separate (although she didn't know why she was saving it).

...

Ring. Ring.

Laura was sitting on the dock at the harbor, looking out across the water again. In the exact same spot. Except he wasn't there now--she could almost still feel his arm
around her shoulders, but it had been five months now.

She pulled the cellphone out of her pocket and flipped it open. Logan's number--not the other one.

" Laura. Hi. Hello. Say something." Logan. He'd called before, but she hadn't answered-she stared across the water.

"I am not coming back," she said. "I am...content with my life. Here."

"No way for a girl to live!" Logan's voice answered angrily. "Laura, you can't run every time you feel something, or have a problem."

Laura sniffed. "I nearly killed them, Logan. The students. My 'friends'. They are safer without me there."

"I know someone who really, really misses you," Logan said. "Someone you're probably missing, too. And I miss you. Just come back, squirt...it's my fault this all
happened--I wasn't here. I'm not going to leave again, okay?"

Laura sighed. "Logan--not everyone misses me."

Silence.

"Who?" he asked sternly. "Who's been tellin' you to stay away, Laura?"

"Emma Frost."

Silence.

"I'm going to fuckin' kill Summers. I am going to fucking kill him. His two-bit whore of a girlfriend--who was evil herself just a bit ago--has the balls to tell you to leave?
I think the silicon went to her brains!"

Laura smiled, a little. "She is correct, Logan. The school is safer without me."

"But it's not better! If you don't come back on your own-I'm gonna come after you. I'll make you come back."

" You can't," Laura said. They both knew this was true; Laura was faster than her original, and could defeat him in battle, although it was hard.

" What can I say to make you give it another try?"

" Nothing. Goodbye, Logan." Laura flung the cellphone across the water; it skipped, then sunk, and she closed her eyes.

The last tie with another old life.