A/N: Thanks to Tatiana (MiraiXenia), Chiang, Kumiko Eharu and rivaran for the ideas. I want to thank all the reviewers and those who emailed, it took awhile, but you got me moving and left me in shock. I'm sorry for the wait. The reasons, Gub-man, actually ranged from both typing/writing block and laziness. I've had the chapter planned since chapter eighteen was posted, but it wouldn't come out. I kind of gave up. It was the curse of the black pearl (great movie). And the worst part is that it struck me at the end of the story. THE VERY END! And it made me almost stop liking Ryro. Oh, it's evil, very evil. But my senses came back. How could I abandon Ryro when I came up with the name (with Rio's help)? If you have questions about the whole Logan topic, go to the bookstore and read Origin. Epilogue will be up soon. You'll hate me for it. I reread it and wanted to slap myself. I'm excited. I feel accomplished.
Friday, 25 April 2003, Wednesday, 07 May 2003, Sunday, 06 July 2003, Sunday-Tuesday, 21-23 December 2003 (I said I'M SORRY!)
XIX. Pajamas II
I leaned back against the headboard of my bed, pulled my legs up along the new set of clean sheets and crossed my legs, sliding my feet under my thighs as I listened to Logan finish informing me of my consequences. He was standing at the front edge of my bed, his feet slowly moving him around every once and a while as he spoke.
"-his office three times a week and again on Saturdays. I offered, but… he said you'd need 'professional' help for your, uh, disorder. That doesn't-"
My brows shot up. Disorder? Had I just heard him correctly or had my ears hopefully deceived me? He must have made a mistake, misheard the professor because I could not deem what I had just heard. I waited for him to correct himself. He continued to shift around in front of me no correction coming from his mouth. My brows furrowed in confusion. So now, I had a mental disorder and needed 'professional help'? The Professor could not be serious about this. So, since my cutting did not classify with them as acceptable, then I was crazy? I tried to take in a calming breathe as the thoughts blazing of rancor swelled in my head. This was twice as much crap as I was expecting to get from anyone, much less the professor.
It's probably not as bad as it sounds, Marie, Logan commented calmly. Mental disorder: probably not as bad as it sounds, needing 'professional help' from the Professor: not as bad as it sounds. I let out my breath irefully, stopping Logan's speech. I averted my eyes from him and crossed my arms, slightly pissed off.
Maybe, he meant mentally unstable, Johnny suggested. As if that was any better. I did not answer him, but that definitely made more sense than what Logan said the Professor had told him the more I dwelled on it. I did after all have four full-blown personas in my head—two of which were not locked away in my subconscious and with whom I frequently talked to and relied on advice from. Mentally unstable indubitably covered that.
Or maybe he got the idea that you couldn't cope with certain emotions without hurting yourself, Logan interjected sharply. Maybe, Marie, what you do is actually a disorder.
Maybe not, I responded not wanting to accept that at all. So what, was I threat to the other students, also? I scoffed at the thought and the probability. Mentally unstable. I let the words roll off my tongue as the words sank in. Logan had stopped pacing and stepped in front of my bed and was now watching me, and I stared at his shirt because I did not want to see the guilt that I knew was in his eyes for his not being able to help me.
"It's not-" he started. He did not know what to say, and I did not need his senses to decipher that. What could he say to a mentally ill person?
Maybe you're taking this too far, Marie, Johnny commented. It's not like they're going to put you into an insane asylum. He said you have a mental disorder. He didn't say it was schizophrenia.
"What kind?" I asked Logan, cutting him off. If I was going to be getting 'professional help', I wanted to know why. I personally did not think I needed any more help. I had been caught and stopped. What more help was there to be done other than keeping me from doing it again? "What's the name?"
He sighed, and I would not have known it if I had not been staring at his chest to see the motion. Funny, I did not take Logan for the sighing type. I raised my eyes to meet his; only he was looking down now. He looked weary and jaded. It was a wonder he had not passed out yet. He could not have gotten more than five minutes of rest in the Medilab to recover from my touch. Not to mention, this was the second time I had died on him, and I had yet to prove that I had been a reliable investment.
"Self-mutilation. He said you were the using the physical pain to block and get rid of the emotional pain," he lifted his gaze to me as he spoke the term. Self-mutilation. That was the official name. So cutting was a disorder. I wondered how that worked. And where did masochism come in? Masochism was the seeking pain for and as pleasure. I thought that if what I did had a name at all, that was what it was. I needed the pain, even enjoyed it sometimes. I furrowed my brows in confusion. Was it a symptom or something or did Magneto's mutation somehow play a part in my need and inclination towards my metal razor? I would have to ask the professor in our next meeting. Which was when, tomorrow? I looked back at Logan and laughed.
"I guess that makes me a true mutie," I smiled, amused at my juvenile pun on the so-called derogatory word mutie and my 'disorder' self-mutilation. Logan did not laugh with me. Neither did Inner-Logan or Johnny. Typical.
"Never mind," I added cynically.
I followed behind Logan again as he led us downstairs, making it the second time I had played puppy to him today, and I was thinking I was too used to it, but, at least, I had also gotten used to ignoring my trail. It would be gone soon anyway.
Nobody was really out yet—most were still getting ready for dinner, which started soon. Logan had wanted to leave early to avoid any drama and save me from being bombarded with stares or questions. And I did not have a choice anymore in whether I wanted to eat at the scheduled dinners or not, and today and for a while that also included where I wanted to sit. I would be sitting with Logan, in the seat right next to him, but I did not mind. I really did not have any interest in sitting near or with the rest of the students, and Logan sat with the other X-Men, so maybe I would be able to talk to Scott, though I strongly doubted it would happen.
I looked behind me down the hall, wondering what John was doing now. Last time I had been in his room, earlier today, he had been alone melting a shoe from Bobby's and his 'talk'. I had left before their talk when Bobby had come back while John had been teaching me to use my new pyrokenisis by making a flame with me. We had finished talking about everything that had happened. I had told him everything there had been to tell, and his response thankfully had not been what I had feared it would be, but he wanted to 'talk' with Bobby.
I turned back around and increased my speed, so I could catch up with Logan.
"Logan? Logan, have you talked to Bobby?" I asked, coming up along his side and hoping he had gotten it over with, so I would not have to be bothered later.
"Yeah. You don't have to worry about him," he answered. Who said I was worried, especially not with the two new additions to my head if I needed the assistance.
You wouldn't. But I did feel guilty for being the subject of John and Bobby's fight or argument or 'talk' or whatever it was that had happened. Particularly, since I had obtained confirmation from John that I had been the subject of the first fight involving the fire alarm and the new door.
"Did you ask the professor about the claws?" I questioned, wanting to know more about why I had them.
"Yeah. You have them because they're mine. They mean I had claws before the lab. They're apart of my mutation," he answered, his face contorted with emotion as he threw a glance at his hands and rubbed his knuckles. "There's bone under the metal. They weren't given to me... They're mine." I stared at him in amazement. They had been his before any of that stuff at the lab had happened. I wondered why I had not known I had them or gotten them the first time he touched me on the Statue of Liberty.
"… and about earlier… when I called you 'James'?" I added curiously. This had happened after I had left John's room and before I had gone back. "James" had slipped from my mouth instead of Logan, and it had caught Logan's attention and stirred up some of my memories as well as inner-Logan's. It was not like I had just accidentally called him the wrong name. I did not even know a James anyway. Something had clicked inside both of our heads, and we knew it had to mean something. He had thought that it could be a clue to his past. I had hoped it would be.
Logan's fatigue had disappeared for the moment. He nodded. "I did. He'll search my head again later. Try to find something…. It could be my name." I raised my eyebrows in surprise. His name? His real name? Logan was not his real name? I smiled at the thought of calling Logan James from now on. It made him seem more… reachable, even though he was more than reachable to me.
"Glad I could help," I told him, "James."
"Me, too," He grinned, "Marie."
"You call me that already. So when are you starting your class?" I questioned, laughing, wanting to know when I would have him for a new teacher.
"Next semester," he answered not so excitedly. I laughed at the notion of Logan teaching a classroom full of this school's students. Having to deal with Tess, Jubilee, and Kitty all together in a class five days straight for an entire year.
It should be interesting, Johnny commented. Absolutely.
The sound of a door opening drifted down the hall. Did I have to hear everything with these new senses? I instinctively turned around somewhat hopefully. Ben walked out of his room and closed the door behind him. I turned around quickly, not knowing exactly what to do or think. We talked when I had run into him in the hallway after leaving John's room at Bobby's sudden arrival, and I had told him what had happened and how I had gotten caught. Guilt had been running through my body at what I had said to him before and everything that had happened, but everything had seemed okay, promising no hard feelings and a maybe a friendship later, but it was hard to tell what Ben was thinking. Logan cast him a quick glance over his shoulder and sent me a raised eyebrow. I shrugged. He was far enough behind us so that I could pretend I had not noticed him.
"What's the status?" Logan asked. I still had not told him everything about Ben and me, but he knew the basics… and probably more because he knew from his encounter with Ben what had happened Saturday night.
I sighed and answered softly with weariness suddenly in my voice, "I don't know." It was all still unfortunately a little complicated even after the worst had passed. I had wanted to cut him out of my life completely when I was breaking up with him, but now I still felt so guilty for using him, especially since he had come to this school because of me.
"You'll both get over it," he answered wryly, adverting his gaze ahead of us again. I nodded knowing Ben would. I already had. I had John.
"Did Tess say anything about my boxers?" Logan asked after a moment's silence. I smiled. He had finally taken them back after our therapy session.
"…She hasn't noticed yet," I laughed, "but when she does it'll be hell."
I ate my food slowly out of the discomfiture and awkwardness from the attention I was receiving from the occupants of my table. In my seat next to him, Logan could keep an eye on me because we all knew what a danger I was in public, wanting to cut people up and everything, I thought sardonically. Ororo sat next to him across from Jean. I was not sure why the Professor was not here, but I was desperately wishing he were. He would divert the attention from me somehow in his nice professor-y way.
I felt like the center of attention at the table. It was not because they were all staring at me because they were not, but rather it was that if it were not for my presence here, I knew the 'incident' would be the center of the conversation. It was not that hard with Logan's mutation to sense the anxiousness they were so well hiding outwardly. They wanted to discuss what had happened, why it had happened, how they could keep it from happening again. The last thing they needed was internal problems when they were facing so many external ones. So, I avoided eye contact and looking up all together and answered the few questions directed towards me as curtly and precisely as I could. They did not push—just as I knew they would not—and after awhile they stopped addressing me altogether.
"When's the cleaning crew arriving," Jean asked nonchalantly between bites. The cleaning crew that would clean away my trail. Tension slammed into my body, and I involuntarily froze at the sound of a topic that could lead to the discussion of my 'episode'. I tried forcing myself to spear some of my food onto my fork. My hand flinched and returned to its frozen position. Okay, somehow my body had taken over my mind. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Logan look at her. Everyone had looked at her, but he solely seemed to show any signs of being edgy. Of course, he could still move.
"Tomorrow," Ororo answered, and then they all carried on with another conversation. The tension drained, and I relaxed back into my chair, forgetting about my food. Why did Logan have to make me sit with him? Could he not see how they were affecting me, and how I was affecting them? I sighed making sure it was not too loud to grab any attention. I obviously could not handle this.
I looked to my right where the remainder of the table's occupants was seated, separated from us by only a couple of vacant chairs. John or Tess had migrated the group to this table, so that they were the group that was separated from us by those empty chairs. I was sort of glad they were there. It made me feel less alone even though I did not want to sit with them for the simple fact that I would probably cause the same effect on them as I was causing on the adults, and I knew for a fact that they would not try or know how to hid it as well. Not that I could not figure it out anyway. I watched them and saw that Jubilee and Kitty were arguing. I listened catching clips of their conversation. Something about a visor, most likely Scott's, which meant they were probably arguing over Kitty's obsession with Scott and the glasses she had stolen from him.
Hey, you want to talk about obsession? You had a pair of his boxers once, Inner-John stated.
Hey, John, you want to shut up? Okay! I retorted sarcastically. I continued watching the group curiously. Tess looked angry and annoyed with them.
She'll be even angrier when she finds out about Logan taking his boxers back, Johnny replied. She was presently staring ominously at both Kitty and Jubilee. Neither of them noticed.
Very true. She would probably force me to rat on Logan and then help her try to get them back.
Except you wouldn't, Logan responded factually.
Let's just hope I won't have to face Tess in her hour of disclosure, I proposed. Especially, if it's today.
Logan, what's her mutation? I asked. She was my roommate, and I did not even know what her mutation was. That was kind of sad. John probably even knew. Now I was curious.
She can manipulate the motion of air molecules around her, Logan answered.
So she can make wind or something, I thought. So, she is dangerous…
John and Logan started laughing. I ignored them and turned to look at the adults. They were still talking. The subject: boring. I sneaked a peek at Scott, who sat to the left of the seat across from me, next to Jean, across from Logan, and wondered how our relationship would continue here forth. If it would at all. I knew there would be no more dinners. So, what choices did that leave? Where did that leave our relationship? I did not want it to stop in the classroom. I wanted it to be like what I had with Logan. So, was I to just walk over there, touch and imprint him, I thought sardonically.
How 'bout you don't, and we leave it at that? Inner-Logan suggested. The thought of having Logan and Scott together in my head did not work anyway. I watched him as he talked with them, wishing I knew what was going to happen next with us.
I turned away and looked straight ahead at the second dining room table adjacent to this one, and a couple of faces turned away. I was surprised for a second, but it did not last long. They probably did not know whether to be afraid or disgusted at what they had heard earlier about a bloody Logan and me in my room. How long would this play out? Definitely, longer than Thursday's rumors. I was sure that there was already a rumor about Logan and me.
He's probably said to be my new boyfriend, I thought.
The one you left Scott for, Johnny added.
And now I'm trying to rub it in Scott's face by sitting with him, I finished. I should wrap my arm through his or something and see how they react.
This was torture. I had never been so bored as to hypothesize what the next rumor about me was going to be. I played with my food a little, shoving a piece into my mouth.
Why don't you talk about something else, Logan suggested, cutting out discussion short. It was long enough.
You like it rough, hence the blood, Johnny added abruptly causing me to gasp aloud and the food I was chewing to fly down my throat, choking me. I coughed, now in a state of double shock at what was happening and what Johnny had just said. I tried not to panic so as not to make it worse. Someone asked me if I was okay, and I swear that if I had not been choking, I would have slapped him or her. Did I look like I was okay? I was choking on a piece of food. I coughed and coughed, attracting more and more attention from everyone before finally the food painfully found it way down my throat. Everyone calmed down as I showed signs of being okay and breathing. I took long deep breaths.
"Fuck! That hurt," I mumbled, after I had regained my breath. My language raised a couple of brows among my group, but I did not care as I winced from the pain in my throat.
You can apologize now, I said edgily, rubbing my throat. The pain was quickly subsiding on account of Logan's mutation.
Sorry, Johnny replied quietly.
"Marie?" Logan half warning me for my language, half questioning if I was okay, his expression matching. I looked up at him with feigned innocence and answered:
"I'm fine," choosing to answer the half of his tone that was questioning my current status. I looked at the rest of the group, gave a quick halfhearted smile, turned away and let it turn into a frown of ennui and growing anger. Is this what I would have to go through every night now? Was this my punishment for 'being bad'? Would I have to play sick to get out of it? And if I did would Logan stay with me anyway as I lay on my bed faking illness? Would he even fall for that?
No, Logan answered.
I doubt it, Johnny replied, as well.
From my right I heard someone call my name, and I turned to see that John had moved over a couple of seats and was beckoning me to meet him halfway, and I wanted to. I wanted to move over, sit with him and not have to go through this anymore. Logan would not care. I was only moving three chairs over, not even out of his radar. I bit my lip and turned to check anyway. They had started talking again, so I nudged Logan, who turned around. I motioned toward John with my head and asked quietly, "Can I?"
He nodded, and I turned to John, moving the chair next to me back so I could slide over, and smiled.
I walked up the empty stairs down the hallway thinking about how dinner had gone from worse to better. How leaving the tense atmosphere and sitting with John had made things so much better. How I did not even notice, much less care, how the students with nothing better to do stared at us and came up with their own conclusions.
I thought about the talk I had had with Scott after dinner. I had hastily said goodnight to John, as I eyed which way Scott was leaving, and then raced to make it out before he did, so that I could catch him. I had to find out what would happen to our friendship. I could not just not know, especially since we had barely spoken at dinner. We certainly had not held a conversation—his awkwardly questioning me along with the others, my terse answers. Nothing that could tell me what our status was or how he had felt about finding my razor in the elevator in a pool of blood. So, I had stopped him the hallway and talked to him, and he had reassured me that everything was not somehow going to be reset between us, leading us back to the beginning and erasing everything that had formed between us. Not after all that had happened between us and he had found my razor. We were still going to be friends, he was still going to be a mentor to me and I could still call him Scott.
After talking to him, feeling satisfied, I had encountered Tess, Jubes and Kitty in the kitchen on my way to the lounge. I tried to pretend I had not noticed them, but Tess had asked: "Rogue? Is it true?" I had furrowed my brows in confusion at what she was speaking of, and then rolled my eyes, wondering what rumor it was that she was talking about and which ones had actually surfaced, and turned towards them.
"Are you and John dating?!" Kitty had squealed loudly. That was the rumor they had heard? Not the worst rumor I had expected. Not that bad at all considering it was true. I had raised my eyebrows quickly and suggestively with a smile on my face, turned back around and continued towards the lounge, still not speaking.
Jubilant shrieking had ensued, and Tess invited me over to Kitty's and Jubes's tonight for a sleepover. I shook my head and sighed as I finally made into the lounge. I was just glad they had not all decided to jump me with hugs. I seriously did not need those three in my head joining the personality party. I winced at the thought.
Then I joined Logan on the couch in the lounge, not daring to even step into the game room. And now that most people had receded to their rooms, and Logan had waken me up from the deep sleep I had fallen into so quickly, proving how big of a toll the day had taken on me, I was walking to my room. Logan probably needed as much sleep as I did; he had indubitably faced more stress than I had. I entered my room, taking one last look at the trail that would be gone tomorrow, ready to fall asleep on the floor if I could not make it to the bed. I strode to my bed and sat down on the side, a heavy sign escaping my lips as I fell onto my back, my thoughts swirling around my head forming a headache as I thought about the day.
This day could not have happened. I did not break up with Ben, I did not lose control, I did not get caught. I did not have Logan's senses or his claws, Johnny and I were not together, the whole school was afraid of me but only because of what I had done to Logan the day he stabbed me with his claws. None of this happened. When I woke up tomorrow this would be a dream.
Please, let this be a dream, I begged God, turning onto my side, shoving my face into the covers, and grasping at the bed sheets. I closed my eyes and thought harder, wished harder for none of this to be true, not thinking I could handle it. I wished I had liked John's fireball more than Bobby's ice rose, I had never been kidnapped by Eric, Logan had never left, and that I had never thought once about using a razor.
You did like my flame more than that lame ice flower! Johnny yelled. I opened my eyes. I was not sure if he was being serious or not.
We're still here, Darlin', Logan stated breaking into the miasma of denial and hope.
"I know!" I yelled into the bedspread angrily, thinking how stupid I would have sounded to anyone if he or she could see me talking to myself. I knew they were still there, and I knew they would still be there tomorrow. They were not the problem. I was. What was I supposed to do now? How was I supposed to just start opening up and talking to Logan and John about things I did not want them to know when using my razor was so much easier? I thought about using my new claws instead.
If you even thought about it, I'd make sure they'd never come out, Logan added threateningly.
You did it! I know you did! I screamed angrily at his threatening to take over my body.
You're not me! He responded, just as irefully.
No, you can start with us, Johnny proposed. Work your way outwards. You're not going to hurt yourself.
I guess I don't have a choice anyway. You hear everything I think, I answered, my anger subsiding. I had caused this. I would just have to deal, I thought despondently as I let go of the bed and rolled over to sit up.
You'd be lost without me anyway, Johnny added jocularly. I stood up and walked to my dresser to find a change of clothes for the night and opened a drawer only find myself staring at what was there. No, not a razor, but the shirt and boxers Johnny had lent me the night I had slept over.
Hey, wear that, Johnny called out. And I smiled, knowing I would. I changed into his shirt, pulled on the boxers dropping my clothes on the floor, walked back to my bed and turned off the light, knowing that with Logan's senses I would be able to fall asleep to John's faded scent on the clothes. I lay down and closed my eyes, thinking about the time I had fallen asleep to his scent on his bed. The memories helped me remember how he smelled, and I was half-asleep when I heard a knock at the door. I ignored it. If it was Logan or Tess, they knew the code. If it was an emergency, whoever it was could knock the door down or something. I let sleep over take me again, and five minutes later, I heard my name being called softly in my ear, and I mumbled out loud for Logan or Johnny to shut up and go to sleep or whatever it was that did at night. Someone chuckled, and I ignored it, thinking I was dreaming that I had suddenly smelled Johnny's scent inches from me.
Just wake up, Inner-Johnny demanded. I told him to shut-up again.
"Marie?" I finally opened my eyes and found myself staring into John's eyes; he was on his knees at the side of my bed. I blinked stunned and disorientated and began to push myself up as I realized he was actually there, my eyebrows raised questioningly, wondering how he had gotten there.
"No," he said stopping me, placing a hand over my clothed shoulder, and asked, "You mind?"
Mind? Did I mind what? I looked at him inquisitively, still wondering what was going on. "If I get in? I'll stay on top of the covers. I have on long sleeves." He said showing me his arms.
Yeah I mind, Logan said pissed. This was a little more 'playing with boxers in pajamas', which even that he had not condoned.
I don't mind, Johnny proclaimed. I shook my head no to inner-Johnny's delight, and he climbed over me to lie on my other side. I laughed in amusement at John's superman pajama bottoms as he climbed over, and I remembered the first time I had seen him wearing them. He smiled back.
"Nice," he commented, his grin growing wider as he ran his eyes over me noticing my choice of clothing. I stopped laughing as I remember that I was wearing his clothes. Inner-Johnny burst out laughing, and I growled at him in my head to shut up since it had been his idea, and pulled the covers up to my chest.
"Thanks," I answered mortified that he had found me like this. I felt like some obsessed girl like Tess with Logan's boxers or Kitty with Scott's glasses… or Kitty just with Scott.
"If wearing it helps you sleep at night. Tess gave me the code," he told me, wrapping an arm around me. Funny, how that had actually been the purpose of my wearing his clothes. I nodded, tried to make my heart stop beating so fast as I adjusted myself in his arms and ducked my head down, anxiously placing the top of my head against his chest and making sure only his shirt and my hair made any contact. My eyes were wide open despite my profusion of fatigue. I did not think I had ever been this close to someone in my bed since Cody, and the memories of what had happened with him still freshly haunted my mind. I did not want a repeat of that, but I did not want to kick John out. I heard him sigh tiredly as he made himself comfortable wrapping himself around me safely and resting his chin atop of my head. I breathed in his scent surrounding me and listened to his heartbeat reverberating alluringly in my ears, and slowly the tension melted from my body, and I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would bring with it more relaxation. I lay quietly breathing him in softly and learning the rhythm of his heart, and I had almost fallen asleep to his scent and his heartbeat when he called my name.
"Hmm?" I answered quietly and half-asleep. I moved closer, pressing myself into his warmth, having forgotten all my previous fears. He was silent for a moment, and I doubted that he had actually called my name at all.
"… Love you," he told me. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up to see that his eyes were closed. I could sense that he was half-awake and now drifting back into sleep. I lowered my head slowly unsure if I had just heard what I thought he had said. Had he said he loved me? My mouth parted, but nothing came out I was still in doubt at what I had heard. Love?
Yes, I do, and you love me, too, Inner-Johnny sang.
I closed my eyes and swallowed nervously, hoping I was not about to make a fool out of myself because I was hearing things and whispered, barely able to speak and with a smile forming on my lips, "…I—I love you, too."
XIX. Pajamas II