I am lying in wait. I am unconscious, and I know it. It's a strange
feeling. Fortunately, I have taken to remembering things while I am
unconscious. Although I still feel my orders, what I have to do, I know
now that is not all there is to my life. I must be able to tell what's
going on around me at some level, because I can feel their presence. I
can feel two of them now, comforting...Wolverine and the other one,
large and heavy and yet not threatening, not a fighter. That is a
strange feeling to me. How could he not be a fighter? Wolverine is a
fighter; he is familiar, comfortable. He kills, but he is also strong,
strong enough to defeat this. This person who I now realize is not me.
This is Rogue. My name is Marie. I wait, trying to find some way to
latch on to Wolverine. Maybe he can share his secret with me, the
secret of breaking free. I felt another presence a little while ago, a
presence that wasn't there in the physical world. The person was in my
head, but wasn't a new personality. The person was just visiting. They
weren't a fighter either, but they were still comforting. They tried to
help me, me Marie, but even with both of us we weren't strong enough to
beat Rogue. I hope the person will come back. If only I could talk to
Wolverine, I know I could win. I know I could. I continue to lie in
wait. I feel another presence near me, but it is only one of the old
ones that live in my head. I don't like them, and I never have. I,
Marie, have never been in control and so I was never in a place where I
had to fight them, but I have been where I could feel them near me, to
feel their constant restlessness and dislike or even hatred of me. It's
Sabretooth and the scientist, William Rottner, who hate me. But they'll
always be there, no matter what I do. Even if I beat Rogue and become
Marie completely again they will still be there.
Of course, Rottner might also have made it possible that I got this far. When I first realized that I'm not Rogue I almost gave up. What could I do? There wasn't anything I could do. But then I remembered Rottner's memory of Wolverine escaping. I remembered seeing the pain Wolverine was in but also watching on the video screen as he broke through his own mind, ripped out the tracking tag attached to the bone of his arm, and escaped. I remembered Rottner's anger and I felt so much better. Whenever I would feel like there was nothing I could do I would remember that fuzzy video image of Wolverine. And here he is, not a foot from me, and I can't talk to him or reach out my hand to touch him. I hate it, and I promise to change it. I will continue to lie in wait.
Slowly, I feel my surroundings change. At first I think it is my physical surroundings, but then I realize that it is the surroundings in my head that are changing. The presence who isn't a fighter but is still comforting is there, and I try to reach for it. I also feel another, but he or she is weak, and I can't tell who they are or what they're doing. They come closer, though, and now I can feel that he is a fighter, not used to being in another person's mind. He is scared, and on one level I criticize him for his fear. He shouldn't be afraid; he's a fighter. But on a deeper, quieter level I realize that it is Wolverine, that he is human, and that he is doing what he can to help me. Thank God, I whisper to myself, even though the phrase is meaningless - I don't believe in any God and never have that I remember. Wolverine is moving closer. He is trying to help me, even after what I did to him in the fight. ...After what Rogue did. No, after what I did. I let myself get this way and do those things; I have to be responsible for every horrible thing my body has done while my mind was away. He is there, and he is pushing, uncertain. He has found me, Marie, and is trying to talk to me. His tone is soothing, apologetic. I can't hear the words. I reach out, and find them there, both of them, in front of me. I find my stolen memory of Wolverine and latch onto it. I force away all the other memories - the instructions, the battles, and everything else - and I clear my mind of everything but Wolverine of my memory and Wolverine in my head. He is still apologizing, and I hear him ask a question. He asks again, and this time I try so hard that I can make it out. "What is your name?"
"Marie," I try to say. I don't think he heard me. "Marie. Marie! Marie! MARIE!"
"Marie? Is that what you are saying?"
"Yes. YES!" I have to put more effort into this than I can remember putting into anything before. But I can do it, because it's him.
"I'm Logan."
"Help me."
"What can I do?"
"Help me. Tell me how you defeated it."
"I remembered. I remembered that I wasn't a machine, and I remembered someone, a friend. I was told to kill him, but I couldn't. I knew him, and I remembered him. I kept myself human and I didn't kill him."
"I'm trying that. I remember me, and I remember you. Why can't I do it?"
"Don't give up. That stuff they put in your head is strong. What if I touched you? Would that help?"
"No, Logan," came another voice, the comforting one.
"I don't know. It has never helped before. I hated it before."
"I..." I feel his presence pulling away.
"Wolverine?"
"Sabretooth, he's awake." Everything becomes quiet again. They pull out, pull out to stop Sabretooth. That is another thing I remember. I remember Sabretooth, the way he fought that day, the way he was fascinating to me. He was conditioned too. I wonder, what would he be like? This rage, this hatred is not his, not Victor's; it is Sabretooth's. I don't know Victor. Would he be kind, a gentleman? As Sabretooth, he is the most evil thing I have ever met, but that's not the man, like it was not me who killed that little girl, who burnt that house to the ground. I hated it, but I couldn't stop it. Is Victor the same way? Watching himself kill, maim, destroy, rape? It must be awful, the most horrible thing imaginable, worse even than the torment of pain and violation of having metal surgically grafted to your skeleton. Even the remembrance of that procedure has me in pain, as I feel the far-away but distinct ripping of my flesh. I try to settle down, try to force it from my mind. I succeed, but in its place, there is a strange feeling, one of the strangest I have ever felt, only absorption comes close. Oh no, that's what it is, I'm absorbing someone! I fight it, but it's no use, and I know that soon a new personality will bubble up to plague me forever. I hope with all my heart that it's not Sabretooth again, because two of him would be unbearable. Ah, there it is. It's...warmth. Strength and sorrow. It's Wolverine, and he is sorry, apologizing with all his heart, apologizing for letting me get hurt. For that's what happened, and I see it through his eyes. Sabretooth woke up and started to attack Wolverine and the blue man, Hank. He thrashed around and hurt both men, and Wolverine pushed him away and toward me. He stabbed Sabretooth, but not before Sabretooth cut me open, my face and my torso, from shoulder to hip. He did it out of spite. Wolverine touched me with his bare hand, and I absorbed him and got his power and his personality. What I had felt was not remembered pain, but real pain right then. Thankfully it's gone now, all but healed. I feel him, his strength and how he wants to protect me. He's apologizing for not being there in time that day in Laughlin City, and for pushing Sabretooth at me now.
"It's okay, don't apologize."
"But it's all my fault."
"No it's not. It's no one's fault, not even Victor's."
"Victor? Is that Sabretooth?"
"Yes."
"I don't know how you can say that."
"Please, help me fight it."
"Okay." We come together to fight, and I can feel his strength, how much he cares about me even though he doesn't know me and the first time we met I tried to kill him. Even he doesn't know what's happening to him. He doesn't usually feel this way about anyone. Even the students of this school, who he was sworn to protect to the fullest of his abilities, don't evoke this kind of response. It's not love; it couldn't be. But what is it, I don't know. All I do know is that he and I together are stronger even than he and I apart, and we will win. He remembers, remembers fighting the instructions, not killing Anders, his friend. We fight.
After an eternity, fighting the instructions until I lose hope, only to have Wolverine well up and give me new strength, again and again, I succeed. It is a slow process, and I feel like I'm going crazy with frustration that I can't make it go any faster, but that only makes me push harder. Finally I feel the weight disappear, and the absolute need to follow the instructions disappears. They are still playing in the back of my head but now I can ignore them, to my incredible relief. Now the other personalities in my head are welling up also, sensing that the tyrant mind is gone and they have a chance of taking over, but Wolverine and I push them back. I am definitely the owner of my mind and body. Sound and smell and touch return to me, on an unconscious level, and I drift into the sleep of my body. It is the best feeling I have ever felt in my remembered life. I sleep.
Of course, Rottner might also have made it possible that I got this far. When I first realized that I'm not Rogue I almost gave up. What could I do? There wasn't anything I could do. But then I remembered Rottner's memory of Wolverine escaping. I remembered seeing the pain Wolverine was in but also watching on the video screen as he broke through his own mind, ripped out the tracking tag attached to the bone of his arm, and escaped. I remembered Rottner's anger and I felt so much better. Whenever I would feel like there was nothing I could do I would remember that fuzzy video image of Wolverine. And here he is, not a foot from me, and I can't talk to him or reach out my hand to touch him. I hate it, and I promise to change it. I will continue to lie in wait.
Slowly, I feel my surroundings change. At first I think it is my physical surroundings, but then I realize that it is the surroundings in my head that are changing. The presence who isn't a fighter but is still comforting is there, and I try to reach for it. I also feel another, but he or she is weak, and I can't tell who they are or what they're doing. They come closer, though, and now I can feel that he is a fighter, not used to being in another person's mind. He is scared, and on one level I criticize him for his fear. He shouldn't be afraid; he's a fighter. But on a deeper, quieter level I realize that it is Wolverine, that he is human, and that he is doing what he can to help me. Thank God, I whisper to myself, even though the phrase is meaningless - I don't believe in any God and never have that I remember. Wolverine is moving closer. He is trying to help me, even after what I did to him in the fight. ...After what Rogue did. No, after what I did. I let myself get this way and do those things; I have to be responsible for every horrible thing my body has done while my mind was away. He is there, and he is pushing, uncertain. He has found me, Marie, and is trying to talk to me. His tone is soothing, apologetic. I can't hear the words. I reach out, and find them there, both of them, in front of me. I find my stolen memory of Wolverine and latch onto it. I force away all the other memories - the instructions, the battles, and everything else - and I clear my mind of everything but Wolverine of my memory and Wolverine in my head. He is still apologizing, and I hear him ask a question. He asks again, and this time I try so hard that I can make it out. "What is your name?"
"Marie," I try to say. I don't think he heard me. "Marie. Marie! Marie! MARIE!"
"Marie? Is that what you are saying?"
"Yes. YES!" I have to put more effort into this than I can remember putting into anything before. But I can do it, because it's him.
"I'm Logan."
"Help me."
"What can I do?"
"Help me. Tell me how you defeated it."
"I remembered. I remembered that I wasn't a machine, and I remembered someone, a friend. I was told to kill him, but I couldn't. I knew him, and I remembered him. I kept myself human and I didn't kill him."
"I'm trying that. I remember me, and I remember you. Why can't I do it?"
"Don't give up. That stuff they put in your head is strong. What if I touched you? Would that help?"
"No, Logan," came another voice, the comforting one.
"I don't know. It has never helped before. I hated it before."
"I..." I feel his presence pulling away.
"Wolverine?"
"Sabretooth, he's awake." Everything becomes quiet again. They pull out, pull out to stop Sabretooth. That is another thing I remember. I remember Sabretooth, the way he fought that day, the way he was fascinating to me. He was conditioned too. I wonder, what would he be like? This rage, this hatred is not his, not Victor's; it is Sabretooth's. I don't know Victor. Would he be kind, a gentleman? As Sabretooth, he is the most evil thing I have ever met, but that's not the man, like it was not me who killed that little girl, who burnt that house to the ground. I hated it, but I couldn't stop it. Is Victor the same way? Watching himself kill, maim, destroy, rape? It must be awful, the most horrible thing imaginable, worse even than the torment of pain and violation of having metal surgically grafted to your skeleton. Even the remembrance of that procedure has me in pain, as I feel the far-away but distinct ripping of my flesh. I try to settle down, try to force it from my mind. I succeed, but in its place, there is a strange feeling, one of the strangest I have ever felt, only absorption comes close. Oh no, that's what it is, I'm absorbing someone! I fight it, but it's no use, and I know that soon a new personality will bubble up to plague me forever. I hope with all my heart that it's not Sabretooth again, because two of him would be unbearable. Ah, there it is. It's...warmth. Strength and sorrow. It's Wolverine, and he is sorry, apologizing with all his heart, apologizing for letting me get hurt. For that's what happened, and I see it through his eyes. Sabretooth woke up and started to attack Wolverine and the blue man, Hank. He thrashed around and hurt both men, and Wolverine pushed him away and toward me. He stabbed Sabretooth, but not before Sabretooth cut me open, my face and my torso, from shoulder to hip. He did it out of spite. Wolverine touched me with his bare hand, and I absorbed him and got his power and his personality. What I had felt was not remembered pain, but real pain right then. Thankfully it's gone now, all but healed. I feel him, his strength and how he wants to protect me. He's apologizing for not being there in time that day in Laughlin City, and for pushing Sabretooth at me now.
"It's okay, don't apologize."
"But it's all my fault."
"No it's not. It's no one's fault, not even Victor's."
"Victor? Is that Sabretooth?"
"Yes."
"I don't know how you can say that."
"Please, help me fight it."
"Okay." We come together to fight, and I can feel his strength, how much he cares about me even though he doesn't know me and the first time we met I tried to kill him. Even he doesn't know what's happening to him. He doesn't usually feel this way about anyone. Even the students of this school, who he was sworn to protect to the fullest of his abilities, don't evoke this kind of response. It's not love; it couldn't be. But what is it, I don't know. All I do know is that he and I together are stronger even than he and I apart, and we will win. He remembers, remembers fighting the instructions, not killing Anders, his friend. We fight.
After an eternity, fighting the instructions until I lose hope, only to have Wolverine well up and give me new strength, again and again, I succeed. It is a slow process, and I feel like I'm going crazy with frustration that I can't make it go any faster, but that only makes me push harder. Finally I feel the weight disappear, and the absolute need to follow the instructions disappears. They are still playing in the back of my head but now I can ignore them, to my incredible relief. Now the other personalities in my head are welling up also, sensing that the tyrant mind is gone and they have a chance of taking over, but Wolverine and I push them back. I am definitely the owner of my mind and body. Sound and smell and touch return to me, on an unconscious level, and I drift into the sleep of my body. It is the best feeling I have ever felt in my remembered life. I sleep.