Memories

Doubts

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or any of their characters. Tora and Weapon X-ii are my own though.

Her sense of smell was the first to return to her. Amanda was there. Please no! Not Kurt! Where were the X-Men? They wouldn't have killed them and left her alive. Please no!

Then her hearing returned slowly but surely.

"Course you already know the rules of Murderworld. Play to live. Live to play."

She could feel again. She was in a box of some sort. It pinioned her arms. But with enough force she could tear her way out. But not without her sight.

Gradually the darkness blurred out. She was in a control room. A man with red hair and a ridiculous bow tie was watching screens of her friends fighting for their lives. A slight turn of the head and she could see Amanda, all done up like a present. Was that what she was in? Oh no. There was a bow and everything. Who was this madman?

"Ah darlin' you're awake. Didn't think anyone who took that 'mount o gas would be alive, let alone awake. So what's a lovely lady like you doing with a madman like Wolvie?"

"He isn't a madman. If anyone here is insane, it's you."

"Aw and we haven't even be introduced."

She snarled, lips curling back to reveal her sharp canines. It was an impressive threat, made even more so when the low growl from the back of her throat resonated around the room.

"Looks like Wolvie's been teaching you some tricks."

"If my hands were free, you'd not have enough breath to insult Logan."

He laughed and turned away, already bored with insulting her. She tensed then relaxed, allowing the claws to slid out of her hands and then swiftly ripped up, tearing herself free. The man turned and collapsed as she hit him. She moved swiftly, freeing Amanda and giving a quick smile to alleviate her fear. And then she felt something hit her between the shoulders. She turned and saw a woman holding a dart gun. Tranquillizers. Good thing they didn't work too well on her. She advanced, only to be hit again. She staggered but managed to remain upright. The third caused her to collapse but she still tried to crawl towards the woman. The fourth hit her but she didn't feel it. There was only the darkness clouding her mind. In her head she screamed. She was needed. The X-Men needed her. In reality she collapsed without a sound.

Of course she couldn't make a sound. She'd just been given enough tranquillizers to subdue a herd of rampaging elephants. She'd be groggy for days. If she survived the next few minutes.

There was nothing she could do. She had been changed into costume. Why would he do that? Unless…Unless he wanted her to fight her way out. But where? There was a corridor but the room was lined with mirrors. There was only one exit. That meant it was a trap. She turned to see a crazy figure of herself. She was still woozy from the sedative. Couldn't think straight. She was hit in the face by the doppelganger. The wound healed. Whoever this character was, it didn't have healing halters. And it didn't have a scent. Robot. Good. That meant she could destroy it. She slammed the robot hard, tearing through delicate circuitry. And then she heard the other noises and turned. Lots of hers. She was too tired to move fast and was soon surrounded. Rough hands pushed her down and she felt a single glassy claw at the base of her skull. She didn't know if she'd heal a direct injury to the brain.

Why? The question screamed. She had so much to learn. Why? Why did she have to die when she'd just become free? She didn't try to fight. She couldn't. Her limbs were like lead. She bowed her head. Calm swept through her. If she was going to die, it may as well be quick. She stopped the ineffective struggling. No pain. The sedative would see to that. Odd. She'd survived all Creed had thrown at her, managed to live with metal in her bones. And now she was going to die without a fight in a corridor of mirrors, surrounded by distorted robot versions of herself.

Nothing. No emotions. No light. Just darkness. And then a voice.

"Do you realize you're a lot heavier than you look?"

"K…Kitty?"

"You so owe me. Those bots were about to cut your head off."

"Shouldn't have…"

"Shouldn't have rescued you? Tora, what are you talking about?"

"Not good enough. Second best. Have to be best."

She didn't hear Kitty's answer.

Why? That would be a question that would resonate for Tora's life. Why? Why did they do that to me? Why did I let them do it? Why do people fear me? Why am I what I am?

She sat in the melting snow, letting the cold move through her. Her limbs were freezing. She knew she wouldn't get frostbite. Sitting in silence in the woods. Allowing the drugs time to get out of her system. She had no worth. No meaning. She'd failed. Kitty should have left her to die. She'd rescued the hostage instead of taking out the hostiles. Basic mistake number 21. She should be more responsible than that. She could hear Logan coming. Should she hide?

"Kid, you're wearing shorts!"

"And…?"

"I know you feel you're invincible but…"

"I know I'm not invincible. Today proved that. I'm useless."

"No…"

"Don't deny it."

"You made a mistake…"

"I'm not meant to make mistakes. I'm supposed to be better than Weapon X."

Silence. She looked round. He was stock-still.

"Who?"

"Some Weapon Plus Project. They lost their precious Weapon X. I was the next step. A weapon fully controllable. Been in their control all it's life and so mouldable. No memories of a past. Beats me how they knew I was the right mutant."

"I used to be part of Weapon X."

That statement, so softly given changed everything.

"What was your number?"

"Doesn't matter. That's all in the past."

"I hate him you know."

"Who?"

"The original. If he hadn't done what they wanted, if he'd had a shred of humanity, they'd have left the rest of us alone."

"You can't be sure."

"Yes I can. I was trained to be him. I know all there is to know about him."

"Tora…"

"Can you just give me some time alone?"

"If you do this to yourself every time you make a mistake, then they won."

She could hear him walking as if to go back.

"Logan…"

They still had a hold on her. She was scared and insecure. She'd never find the balance if she let them hold onto her, let their legacy rule her fear.

She moved silently through the woods, hunting and being hunted. It was cold and dark and she really shouldn't be out here. It had been fun breaking out of the manor though. She tensed then leapt, landing gracefully in a tree. Logan walked under the tree and she grinned. Gotcha.

She leapt neatly, landing silently behind him. She moved in, ready to fight. And her boot caught on a branch which grated along a rock. Logan turned and snarled. She managed to dodge the first blow and extended her claws. They danced around each other, neither wanting to risk a move that could result is injury. Then she flipped forward and rammed her fist forward, claws touching his throat. Then she glanced down and saw his claws over her heart. She looked back, to the cowl behind which she knew Logan would be smiling grimly.

"Stalemate?"

He laughed at that.

"Sure. Kid, you're good. Didn't smell you at all. How did you cover your scent?"

"Take my word that you don't want to know."

He sniffed then gagged.

"You didn't have to go that far."

"I should probably go to get a shower."

The two walked back up to the mansion, Logan upwind.

The door was unlocked and they were laughing as they walking it. Only to stop when they realized that Scott had just come out of the kitchen and was staring at them. Suddenly Logan was conscious of the filth Tora had plastered on her hair and costume to hide her scent. It would be so easy for Slim to misinterpret the fact they were returning to the house after midnight, having not mentioned going out, especially with Tora's slightly bedraggled appearance. She was totally oblivious to what could be read into appearances. She saw him as a friend, nothing more. But would she see him as a friend if she knew he was the original Weapon X. Probably not. She saw things in black and white. Friend or foe. Fight or flight. Me or them. It was how an animal saw things. She had things easy. To her there was truth or mistakes, not lies. She had placed everything she saw into good and bad and wouldn't waver from what she saw. He'd got that from much from her stance. But then it was guarded. For all he knew she could be hiding behind layers upon layer of posture. No hint of thoughts would glow for a moment in her eyes.

She already bounded up the steps and he got another nosefull of the stuff she'd used to cover her scent. And he was left to try and explain to Scott what he'd been doing in the middle of the night with the new X-Man.

Of course she saw things in black and white. She didn't know better. Her life had always been those who were kind to her and those who tried to hurt her. She not yet met someone who she liked that would hurt her. She'd not found the people who hated her but would save her. And so she still hadn't become human. Oh, she was nearly there but it would take a lot more to cause her to move the last few feet and finally feel as a human did. With all the shades of grey and the complexities of right and wrong.

She had managed to get all the muck out of her hair but now the shower was filthy. She'd clean it tomorrow…today. It was early and she could do with some sleep. For the first time since she arrived she collapsed on the bed instead of underneath. And she slept.

She was screaming as Creed and Robson moved in on her, needles and claws glinting. She felt pure pain and then looked over and saw the other X-Men chained. All of them? No. Logan was there, unchained, snarling, hair long and ferocious. His claws were out and he was guarding the X-Men. Then Creed, Robson and the X-Men faded away and she was left with Logan. And his claws dug deep into her stomach and she didn't heal.

There were arms around her now and whispers.

"Hush. Hush. It's just a dream. A nightmare. It's not real."

'Ro.

"It was. I was there. You were too. Logan… He was dangerous. Worse than Creed. Please…"

She felt Storm stiffen as she mentioned Logan's name and managed to get loose. It was then she saw what she had done. The room was wrecked. She'd thrown stuff and the sheets and mattress were shredded. The windows had been smashed when she'd thrown the collar. Logan had cut it out shortly after her arrival and for a reason she wasn't quite sure of she'd kept it.

"Please 'Ro. Help me. Help me out of this."

Every night. Every night she woke screaming in the darkness. But all it had been before were memories and she could handle them. She'd lived through them once. Twice wasn't too hard. But this one was different. This one left her shaking and gabbling, clinging to Ororo like a baby. Why? Why now?

It was the first time she had dreamed. Before they were simply memories. But now she was almost there. Few more steps and she'd be there. A human, plain and simple. Not a weapon, not an animal. A person, full and complete.

Ororo hadn't mentioned the nightmare. Tora made her promise. They'd cleaned up and she'd managed to get 'Ro to leave and then she'd sat in fear the rest of the night, not daring to close her eyes. She'd not been able to sleep. At least she always woke early so she didn't have to sit in the silent room for too long. As soon as she heard the grandfather clock downstairs strike six she'd leapt off the bed and dressed in her uniform. Long sleeves and gloves, black and orange. It was designed to put the opponent off, sharp lines leading away from the vital areas and leading to the shoulders and arms. Stripes of black on the orange suit, orange on the black gloves and boots. Finally she reached out and pulled the cloth mask over her face before brushing the burnished metal of the black headdress. A moment's hesitation and then she raised it to her face, feeling it clamp into place, down the nose and round the eyes, then down the jawbone to the sides of her mouth. It was stylised, shaped like a child's drawing of a tiger's stripes but it kept her other mask in place. Her design hadn't included it but when she'd opened the package it had been on top, empty eye sockets staring up at her. Something about it had intrigued her and she'd put it on and worn it. No one had noticed.

She knew what she was doing. Sure, she wasn't meant to go on a combat workout when everyone else was asleep but she found combat cleared her head. She walked the first flight of stair and then jumped the rest. She did this often. It wasn't hard to program the Room. The memory of the runs were wiped so as long as she wasn't caught in the act it would be fine. She entered the control room and programmed a sequence. Then ran as quickly as she could around the house to get to the door. She entered just as the program started and she danced and dodged. All she had to do was hit the button on the opposite side of the room. She felt a razor wing slice her neck but the blood flow soon stopped. She slowed down, taking her time to traverse the room, enjoying the rush that came with a fight. Then she reached out and lazily pressed the button. Everything stopped. In the silence only found after lots of loud noise, she relaxed, letting the tension slide out of her.

"Ahem."

Charles was in the control room. How long had he been there? She waved, hoping he wouldn't be annoyed.

"Good morning."

"What have I told you about running Danger Room sessions unobserved?"

She concentrated and then a voice eerily like Xavier's filled the room.

"The Danger Room should only be used when supervised. If you were injured then there would be no one to help you. Would you like me to continue?"

"How did you learn to do that?"

"What?"

"Impersonate my voice."

"Oh, impersonations are easy. I can be from anywhere Senor. You see Herr Xavier, I can not only speak languages but I can imitate any accent."

Throughout this statement her voice had changed, flipping from a slight Italian accent to heavy German. Then she turned and left the Danger Room leaving Charles to silent introspection.

She grew to enjoy doing that. Walking off in the middle of a conversation simply because she didn't see a point in continuing it. It drove people up the wall, round the bend and down the plughole. But if she saw a topic had reached the end of what she wanted to talk about she'd leave. She didn't like it when people tried to change the topic to cover up. So she came across as blunt and slightly tactless. The woman smiled. That's what Tora wanted.