AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you, edinarain, gethmane8, April Kristina, Saki, and
Jazz for the great reviews! And just so you know, the movie The Cell was
my inspiration for the story, but I'm not following the plotline at all.
So, you'll just have to read the rest to know what happens! ;)
The same room. She was in the same dark, cold room made of stone. But there was one exception. There was a single bright spotlight shining down upon the middle of the cell. Ororo assumed she had only survived because she had died in Victor's subconscious, which she hoped meant that he didn't actually want her dead. But she knew it was a pathetic attempt to calm herself down. She heard a shuffling of feet, and shoved herself as far into the dark corner behind her as she could.
Victor came into view, but she couldn't tell if it was the memory Victor or the subconscious Victor. He seemed to be writhing in agony. He crawled upon the ground on his hands and knees, back and forth, in a pace, gripping his stomach and snarling at no one in particular.
Whatever was ailing him, it had to be terrible, as he made no indication that he was aware of her presence, and Ororo knew that, when nothing else was distracting him, he could smell her blood, even inside her veins, from a fifty-yard radius. She took a tiny step forward, putting her foot in the light. He didn't see her, as he was clawing at the wall irrationally.
She put her entire body into the light, and still he didn't see her. Now confident that she couldn't actually die here, no matter how painful, she stepped forward and grasped him by the arm. He spun around to her touch, roaring deafeningly into her ears. She held onto him bravely. He threw a backhand across her face, and her head snapped to the right. She looked back to him, four small scratches across her left cheek.
She stroked his cheek softly, trying to prove to him that she didn't want to harm him, but he pulled away from her, trying to recede into the darkness. She kept him close to her, and he snapped a bite at her through the air. She remembered him telling her that he couldn't stand the human touch, and a pang of sympathy rang through her heart, finally understanding the roots of his abuse-reactive behavior.
She hugged him around the neck, forcing him to experience the strongest form of innocent affection she could think of. He shrank to the touch but she held on; he growled in anger but she held on; he shoved her but she held on. Finally, he gave in and rested his head upon her shoulder, continuing to snarl at her but no longer physically fighting her.
After almost two full minutes of simply holding onto him, she backed off slightly to look at him, hoping to gage what he was thinking. His cautious stare had transformed into a sly smirk, and she felt arousal creeping behind his eyes. "You really have always been a horn-dog, haven't you?" she teased. And somehow, she found herself kissing him.
He reacted naturally, pursing his lip around hers and soon working his tongue with her own. She felt a chill travel up her spine, as she relished his simple touch. She missed him so much. Suddenly, she was in the same long tunnel as before, everything she had seen rolling before her eyes in reverse. She came to in the Medlab once more.
"What the hell was that?" Jean yelled.
Ororo turned away. "I do not know. It just felt right at the time."
"You mean at the time right after he had killed you?"
"Let me back in," she demanded.
"That's out of the question. Don't you even wonder why I let you die?"
Ororo hadn't thought of that. "Why did you-"
"I didn't!" Jean was outraged that her best friend believed she would commit such an atrocity against her. "I lost control!"
"What do you mean?"
"You were in his subconscious. We knew he'd gain control over the situation, but we didn't know he could hold you there, against my will. For all we know, now that you gave him a taste of what he was missing, I might not be able to ever get you back!"
"But I was in his subconscious! Mission accomplished. That has been what we wanted all along. And I obviously won back his trust. I bet next time- "
"That wasn't him. You were in his subconscious when you died, but just now, you basically altered his memory of losing all touch with humanity...whether or not that's a good thing, I don't know-but that's not the point! The subconscious Victor is still the bloodthirsty monster that he's always been. Do you really want to face that?"
"What about sacrificing myself for the good of the world?"
"You've sacrificed. It didn't work. There are other things we could try: we're using Cerebro, we're sending out both the teams, we're-"
"And are any of those things working?" Ororo shouted. "No! This is our only option. Look, I can take care of myself. I mean, I have already died in there, and I came back. Maybe that means he does not really want me dead."
"Oh, honey," her voice softened, "that's just you trying to convince yourself because you're not over him."
"Shut the fuck up!" Jean took a step back, surprised by her friend's first outburst at the Mansion.
"It's true," she stated. "You forget, I was there. I was monitoring your mental health, as well as your emotions. You're still in love with him, whether you want to admit it or not."
"You know what? I do not care. The only thing that matters is that I am almost there. I am centimeters away from speaking to him. Just give me one more hour, please."
Jean sighed, obviously very much against the idea, but acquiesced.
The same room. She was in the same dark, cold room made of stone. But there was one exception. There was a single bright spotlight shining down upon the middle of the cell. Ororo assumed she had only survived because she had died in Victor's subconscious, which she hoped meant that he didn't actually want her dead. But she knew it was a pathetic attempt to calm herself down. She heard a shuffling of feet, and shoved herself as far into the dark corner behind her as she could.
Victor came into view, but she couldn't tell if it was the memory Victor or the subconscious Victor. He seemed to be writhing in agony. He crawled upon the ground on his hands and knees, back and forth, in a pace, gripping his stomach and snarling at no one in particular.
Whatever was ailing him, it had to be terrible, as he made no indication that he was aware of her presence, and Ororo knew that, when nothing else was distracting him, he could smell her blood, even inside her veins, from a fifty-yard radius. She took a tiny step forward, putting her foot in the light. He didn't see her, as he was clawing at the wall irrationally.
She put her entire body into the light, and still he didn't see her. Now confident that she couldn't actually die here, no matter how painful, she stepped forward and grasped him by the arm. He spun around to her touch, roaring deafeningly into her ears. She held onto him bravely. He threw a backhand across her face, and her head snapped to the right. She looked back to him, four small scratches across her left cheek.
She stroked his cheek softly, trying to prove to him that she didn't want to harm him, but he pulled away from her, trying to recede into the darkness. She kept him close to her, and he snapped a bite at her through the air. She remembered him telling her that he couldn't stand the human touch, and a pang of sympathy rang through her heart, finally understanding the roots of his abuse-reactive behavior.
She hugged him around the neck, forcing him to experience the strongest form of innocent affection she could think of. He shrank to the touch but she held on; he growled in anger but she held on; he shoved her but she held on. Finally, he gave in and rested his head upon her shoulder, continuing to snarl at her but no longer physically fighting her.
After almost two full minutes of simply holding onto him, she backed off slightly to look at him, hoping to gage what he was thinking. His cautious stare had transformed into a sly smirk, and she felt arousal creeping behind his eyes. "You really have always been a horn-dog, haven't you?" she teased. And somehow, she found herself kissing him.
He reacted naturally, pursing his lip around hers and soon working his tongue with her own. She felt a chill travel up her spine, as she relished his simple touch. She missed him so much. Suddenly, she was in the same long tunnel as before, everything she had seen rolling before her eyes in reverse. She came to in the Medlab once more.
"What the hell was that?" Jean yelled.
Ororo turned away. "I do not know. It just felt right at the time."
"You mean at the time right after he had killed you?"
"Let me back in," she demanded.
"That's out of the question. Don't you even wonder why I let you die?"
Ororo hadn't thought of that. "Why did you-"
"I didn't!" Jean was outraged that her best friend believed she would commit such an atrocity against her. "I lost control!"
"What do you mean?"
"You were in his subconscious. We knew he'd gain control over the situation, but we didn't know he could hold you there, against my will. For all we know, now that you gave him a taste of what he was missing, I might not be able to ever get you back!"
"But I was in his subconscious! Mission accomplished. That has been what we wanted all along. And I obviously won back his trust. I bet next time- "
"That wasn't him. You were in his subconscious when you died, but just now, you basically altered his memory of losing all touch with humanity...whether or not that's a good thing, I don't know-but that's not the point! The subconscious Victor is still the bloodthirsty monster that he's always been. Do you really want to face that?"
"What about sacrificing myself for the good of the world?"
"You've sacrificed. It didn't work. There are other things we could try: we're using Cerebro, we're sending out both the teams, we're-"
"And are any of those things working?" Ororo shouted. "No! This is our only option. Look, I can take care of myself. I mean, I have already died in there, and I came back. Maybe that means he does not really want me dead."
"Oh, honey," her voice softened, "that's just you trying to convince yourself because you're not over him."
"Shut the fuck up!" Jean took a step back, surprised by her friend's first outburst at the Mansion.
"It's true," she stated. "You forget, I was there. I was monitoring your mental health, as well as your emotions. You're still in love with him, whether you want to admit it or not."
"You know what? I do not care. The only thing that matters is that I am almost there. I am centimeters away from speaking to him. Just give me one more hour, please."
Jean sighed, obviously very much against the idea, but acquiesced.