Memories
Secrets and Scars
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men or any of their characters. Tora and Weapon X-ii are my own though.
She was sitting quietly on the bed. Logan would have it by now. Would he be angry she gave him that? It had hurt to remove the fluid but she'd done it. It had been done before. It hurt but it worked. She unsheathed one of her claws. Smooth metal slid into position. And then she leant her head forward so she could see the tiny piece of bone visible in the metal. The place the syringes used to be injected. And she couldn't stop them drawing out the liquid. She knew most was stockpiled but that some was sold to the highest bidder. She shuddered at the thought of people all around the globe having access to that fluid. Then she got up, turned, bared her back and looked at it in the full-length mirror on the wall opposite. The scar tissue was dark, an X running from shoulder to hip. Testament to the potency of metal tempered with heal halters. She moved her hand from smooth skin to knotted scar then shrugged her shirt back on. No use brooding on the past. No use wishing the pain in her back would go away. It never would. It would always be there, deep inside her, a part of her. Like the claws and the chips and the adamantium. Pain defined her. In a way she was pain. But she controlled it. As she finished this train of thought, someone knocked on her door.
"Yes? Oui? Ja? Da?"
"Tora, it's Logan."
"Are you angry at me?"
"No. May I…"
"Come in."
He was looking slightly worried about something.
"How did you get that stuff out?"
She showed him a claw. Pointed out the piece of bone.
"They're natural?"
"Yes. I…I remember when I first used them."
"Thanks for that stuff.
"You're welcome."
Death glanced at the woman.
"I thought Howlett's claws were natural."
"At the time, he thought they had been added in with the adamantium."
"He was always an …interesting… person."
"That he was."
"Do you miss…?"
"What do you think?"
"I have to say, things definitely livened up when he came to my domain."
"As yes. You have the most power now. Only the avatars survived. The end of all things is rather…final."
"I don't understand why the Phoenix and yourself kept your bodies."
"I like having me around."
"Do you realize how odd that sounds?"
"Odd? Excuse me, but don't you realize where we are?"
"OK, I was asking for that one. Can we go back to this? I've never seen this part of her life before. It is…interesting."
The masked woman smiled eerily and reached out towards the water again.
They were chatting, enjoying the ten-minute breather between the training sessions. Each was having a drink and discussing the new propositions Senator Kelly was supporting.
"We saved his life and now he's trying to get us outlawed."
"Kelly…Kelly…Wait. I know that name!"
"Tora?"
"Robert Kelly, Minister for Weapons Research?"
"I think he held that job for a while…"
She dived towards the computer. This was going to be difficult. She'd only done this twice. Once to show she could do it and once to download every piece of information in the facility. She knew this was going to hurt. She sat down, using her implants to shut down all unnecessary body functions. Then she connected herself into the computer network. On the screen opposite an image appeared. A typical computer documents folder.
"I chose this interface. I find it easy to deal with."
"Fine with us."
She concentrated and a folder was opened. The display flashed, trying to keep up with all the speed at which she dived through the folders. Eventually she slowed and reached a folder marked "Memos- US Government".
"Whoa. Hold it. The Government knew about this?"
"They were the third highest financer. After two private owned companies."
She entered the folder and scrolled down through the files.
"Found it."
A date and time stamp. She then opened it. It looked like memos from any Government department. Until you read the content.
"Robson, I want to see this 'Weapon' you're producing. This thing's costing a fortune. And what on earth do you want 80 lbs of adamantium for? I've read all your reports and I can understand this thing's good. The files on the last Weapon were impressive to say the least. But words been filtering back that this Weapon's a teenager. I can condone an adult who volunteers but this project's been ongoing for twelve years. Just how old was Weapon X-ii when you started it's training?
Kelly"
She exited and entered the answer.
"Kelly, Weapon X and Weapon X-ii are mutants with healing factors. X-ii has been at the facility since it was two years old. It's training didn't start until it's third birthday. The adamantium is for the bones of the Weapon. The process, while fatal for a normal person, is relatively low risk for a mutant with the healing capabilities of Weapon X-ii. Because of equality laws, X-ii doesn't legally count as human. It is a mutant, plain and simple.
Robson"
She scrolled down to the answer.
"Robson. Why didn't you say this Weapon X project was about mutants? I've signed the order for the adamantium. You have the permission of the Department to go ahead with the bonding process.
Kelly"
She exited the file and disconnected herself from the computer. Then turned and was surprised at the looks of horror on the other's faces.
"What?"
"The evil, twisted, lying…"
"Logan…"
"We saved his stinking life and then it turns out he authorised the torture of a teenage girl, just because she was a mutant. I'm going to have a conversation with him. A short one with claws."
"LOGAN!"
"Why is everyone so shocked by this?"
"Tora, this is the USA. We don't…shouldn't condone the torture of anyone. Especially not children."
"I've not been a child since I was two years old. I've been a weapon, a prisoner and an X-Man."
"You were still a child…"
"It doesn't matter. I've been used to it."
"That's not the point"
"It doesn't matter! I hate the way you pity me! I'm don't want pity! I don't want anyone tiptoeing around me, or not mentioning espionage near me! I don't want you all treating me like I'm made of china! I can handle a lot! I had a choice when I was twelve! Break or become strong! I blocked them out! I can block everything out! I don't want your pity, your fear! I'm not what I once was! I'm not a weapon or a child or any of those things you think I am! I'm me."
She left the room, going back to the Danger Room, leaving silence behind her.
"She always did hate people pitying her."
"Yes. It has been known to drive me crazy."
"I always wondered about her. She seemed very…forceful."
"She was more secretive than forceful."
"Ah."
They were fighting in silence, Tora's last, angry remark quieting them all so there weren't any of their usual jokes. She seemed oblivious to the fact she was responsible for the brooding atmosphere and was concentrating fully on flipping through the lasers. She fought differently from the rest, never bothering to talk when she was fighting, simply striking or dodging in silence. It was slightly off-putting when you were expecting a sarcastic remark or an insult to just get a snarl or a cat-like hiss and suddenly have a 5-foot-4 clawed spring attack you. She'd change tactics on the slightest provocation and it was disconcerting to have a person who used textbook karate defensive tactics suddenly switch to street-brawling attack. The others had been slightly worried ever since they saw her pivot on the ball of one foot, swing the other round and drive her heel straight through a robot's head. Her boot had been shredded but her foot, despite the copious amounts of blood, was apparently completely unharmed. She'd shrugged of the questions and disappeared again for half an hour. They could only assume she went down to the lake. They'd seen her once down on the bank, a look of quiet concentration on her face. Then she'd moved so quickly, the only sign she'd actually changed position was the ripples in the lake and the fish beside her, which she then released back into the water.
She was so busy dancing around the light beams she didn't notice the razor wings until too late. Her uniform was ripped badly, a large section of the back torn away. Then she heard the intakes of breath and heard Kurt's murmured whisper.
"Vas im Himmel…?"
She froze and reached around, hoping to feel the reassuring smoothness of her uniform. She touched the smooth material and ran her fingers down until she came to a tear over three inches wide. She turned, nerves causing her to bite her lips, so blood welled up before scabbing over. The program had been stopped and the others were standing there, just looking at her, a mixture of shock and revulsion on their faces. Scott looked as though he was struggling to find words.
"Who…what…did…that to you?"
She shifted uneasily.
"What?"
"That scar. And I don't think that two inch wide, three inch long was all."
She backed away, nervous.
"It doesn't matter. It's fine. Seriously…"
She never got a chance to finish. Storm suddenly had her arms held back.
"Please Tora. How bad is it?"
She didn't bother to struggle. They'd seen only a fraction of the whole scar. Perhaps she could downplay it. But how? How could she say a mistake when she knew the truth? Instead of trying to explain, she simply hung her head down.
"Please Tora. How bad is that?"
"Let my arms free. I'll…I'll show you."
Ororo released her arms on the nod from Scott and Tora used her claws to tear the back off her already ruined uniform. Eyes still downcast, she slowly turned, fearfully.
She heard Logan swear loudly, Kurt murmur his familiar "Gott im Himmel" and Piotr say something unprintable in Russian. Scott, when she turned back round, looked dumbstruck.
"Who…who…would…?"
"Was it Creed?"
Logan was apparently the first to recover.
"Later on, yes. But he was just reopening old scars. They healed. But the first time…it didn't."
"How…how did they…?"
"I…I don't want to talk about this Scott."
"Tigress, tell me right now!"
She flinched, as if she expected a blow to the face any second now. When none were forthcoming, she looked up, her shoulders still shaking slightly. Then, as if she was steeling herself for something painful, she finally looked Cyclops in the visor.
"I was fourteen. I'd just had my adamantium implanted a few weeks beforehand. I'd only just recovered. They were planning to show me off to one of the main financers. They sent me to the training gauntlet and then put a guard in. One I…I had reason to hate. I won't talk about why. But he had a gun and I broke it. I…I had my claws under his throat…They told me to…to kill him…And…and I…I couldn't. I looked into that man's eyes and saw such fear. I couldn't have driven my claws into his head if my life had depended on it. And so they strapped me to a table and cut my back open with blades that had been coated with my healing halter. And they burned open my back. Again and again. My back burned as they cut again and again and again and again. I screamed. I pleaded. I begged. I tried to die. And when they'd finished punishing me, they sold me to Creed."
She stood there, silent, the slight shaking of her shoulders all that betrayed her fear. She was gulping in the air, fear making her cower. Then she suddenly pulled her mask off and ran out. They heard doors slamming as she tried to run, run from the one thing she couldn't hide from. Her memories.
"That is one messed-up human."
"Death, a little more sensitivity if you please."
"Sorry dear. I keep forgetting your ridiculous attachment to that race. They never reached the power of the Skrulls, Shi'ar or even the Kree."
"But they have more interesting history than all three combined. So many powered people. And if I may remind you, both I and Phoenix hail from that insignificant race. Isn't that a little worrying? Phoenix, who danced from person to person found the perfect avatar. I found the one person I was willing to share my power with. All from one little insignificant race. And if I remember correctly, which I always do, you once possessed a Mrs Marlo Jones."
"Well everyone else was taking human avatars left, right and centre."
"Exactly my point old friend."
"You only call me that when you want to rub my nose in it."
She sat in the woods, high in the trees. She could see people coming from a mile off. She could hear them coming from three miles off. She was listening, watching, scenting. Feeling the shifts in air patterns, tasting the sour car fumes from the road over a mile and a half away. She hated the city. It confined her, trapped her. She wasn't meant to be here. She was meant for the mountains and forests and plains. She was meant to roam freely, survive on what she could catch or gather. Not sit for most of the day talking. She needed to be tired, so tired she's sleep without dreaming, so tired there wouldn't be any of the memories played again and again and again.
She moved slightly then dropped down and began to run. Feet hit the ground and she powered forward, running and running, round and round the grounds. When she reached the lake she didn't bother to skirt it, just dived in and swam. She wasn't going to stop, was just going to charge in a straight line until she dropped with exhaustion. And if she dragged herself up again and kept on running, maybe then she'd just drop down and die. She remembered the peace flowing through her when she thought she was going to die. She wanted that feeling again, that calm and that certainty no one would ever hurt her again. Sometimes when you'd been hurt so badly, not physically, but mentally, then you'd just not be able to go on. You'd be fine and no injuries would be there, but you'd be broken inside. Tora hadn't ever reached that point. When it came to the time most people would break, she'd just placed even thicker barriers between her and the rest of the world. But now her friendship with the X-Men was breaking them down and the fragile child who'd died in a room that smelt of death and dogs and blood was being subjected to all the pain and trauma that had been kept away.
Suddenly she stopped swimming. She felt the extra weight in her bones drag her down and she remembered something that she'd read in Xavier's library. Drowning was apparently the most peaceful way to die. Maybe she'd just let the metal drag her down. The X-Men would think she'd left them and no one would ever bother to check at the very bottom of the lake. The metal would stop her body from being dredged up. She felt the water close over her head and fill her lungs. So easy. Just peace and no more pain. Then someone grabbed her arms, there was a feeling of exhaustion and then she blacked out.
"I don't remember that…"
"There never was a chance of her dying so you didn't need to be there."
"She seemed pretty close to dying."
"Kurt had been watching her the entire time. When he saw her go under he bamfed in to rescue her."
"What was that stupid tag line he used to say?"
"Nightcrawler by name- swashbuckler by trade, damsel saving a speciality."
"Yes. Very stupid."