Memories

Injuries to Go

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

"WHAT! I AGREED TO SERVE AS A DISTRACTION WHILE SHE SAUNTERS IN AND BLOWS THE PLACE UP!"

"Sadly, you did fearless leader."

"Shut up Logan."

"Well, what's done is done Scott. And Tora has extensive black ops training. Whilst you were…er…still slightly confused, she got the plans and then used the Danger Room to break in, dodge through the Sentinels and blow up the place, within twenty minutes."

"Twenty…"

"Ja! She's amazing. And when she did that triple backflip and then started tap-dancing on the Master-Mold, just because she could."

"WHAT!"

"Fuzzy there's having you on."

"Good. That didn't sound like Tora."

Logan immediately looked away. He didn't like long conversations about Tora. There was still a lot of bitterness there. She had taken to blanking him whenever she walked past. And that girl could blank with the best. Most people would still react slightly to you, such as a flicker of the eyes or a change in stance. But she didn't even see him. The only stupid thing she had said to him in two months was a request for a tabletop garnish! And that had been directed at Kurt.

She stuck her head into the Blackbird cockpit.

"Where's the powerpack on a Sentinel? I've been studying the schematics for the last lot and I can't find it."

Logan looked round at her and she looked right through him. It would be worth a try.

"It's in the base of the head."

She gave no inclination she'd heard him. Storm, Cyclops and Nightcrawler glanced at each other. Kurt spoke up.

"It's in the base of the head.

"Thanks Kurt."

She disappeared, probably to continue dissection the hologram. The others all looked at Logan.

"Why does she ignore you?"

"Shut up Elf."

"I still can't believe…"

"Shh. Watch this. This is the master at work."

She moved quickly, claws digging into the walls, avoiding all the delicate sensors. The alarms on the other side of the compound were ringing loudly so the other X-Men were obviously doing their job well. There was a tall robot on the other side. It looked straight through her, the digital sensors simply seeing a panoramic, empty horizon. She flicked over and pressed her fists deep into the metal. The robot squawked and keeled over. She grinned. She loved doing this. Oh, there was a big door with a big number pad. What was wrong with her? She was sounding like…like…well she wasn't sure who she sounded like. She sauntered over. She'd be running on the way out. Of course, she could just set up a remote bomb but she preferred the old fashioned timers. Call her nostalgic or whatever. There was just something more personal about the countdown. And if she wasn't fast enough then there would be extreme pain. Not death. She'd had bombs go off within a hundred feet of her and survived. But having your flesh hanging off and full thickness burns were extremely unpleasant, not to say the X-Men would probably assume she's died in the inferno that was about to engulf this place. There were no living people in the building, something she'd made certain of before agreeing to blow it up.

She glanced at the code box. A four-digit passcode. She then leant in and placed one claw carefully on the edging. She removed the outer panel so the wires were showing. Now… It's a standard model so if the third wire from the left is cut 3.65cm precisely from the main power supply then… the door slid open. She grinned even wider. Nice to know she was as good as ever. She glanced down the wide corridor. There shouldn't be any traps but you never knew. She moved slowly, with deliberation. When no sudden attacks left her without any important organs she began to speed up, moving at a long easy lope that, if well fed when she began, she could keep up for days on end. After all, she had promised twenty minutes, a half-hour tops. Right. Right. Left. Third Left. The map was emblazoned in her mind. Advantage of a photographic memory. Left. Right. She concentrated on her steps. If she tore a tendon now… Sure it would heal but it'd add an extra fifteen minutes to her schedule. And those fifteen minutes could mean the difference between life and death for her friends.

When she reached the control room she wasn't even out of breath. She pulled off the bag she'd been wearing and began to assemble the bomb. She was out of practise but she still was a lot faster than most people would ever be. She placed the last component in place and flicked the timer. Right. Better start running. Five minutes would give her enough time to get out of here. She moved fast, her feet hitting the ground, the launch from one foot pushing her forward even further. She shot don long corridors, Sentinels looking straight through her. She dived out of the door and considered swearing. The gates- which were supposed to be open- were closed. She'd have to scale the wall again. She leapt, claws digging in as her feet scrabbled for purchase. She knew deep down she wouldn't be able to climb over the barbed wire in time. But she had to try.

She pulled herself over the top of the wall. And then felt the searing heat on the back of her neck as the plant exploded behind her. She didn't scream as she fell. She was already unconscious.

"What…"

"I'll show you the accident from the X-Men's point of view shall I?"

"Please"

It went bad from the start. They couldn't get the gates open. The fight was fine as no one got injured. But the gates wouldn't open. They'd been watching and then the tiny figure had reached the top of the wall. The blast had pushed her out and they'd been unable to do anything as she'd spun like a ragdoll and landed badly. Then the wall came down on her.

They'd dived in, digging through the rubble to get her. And when they finally did it was obvious something was terribly, horrifyingly wrong. Blood was everywhere. There were burns on her neck but they were healing. What worried them was the rips in her chest and stomach where she'd fallen her claws. There was so much blood… It wasn't stopping and the scars on her back were oozing blood as well. It wasn't pretty. Peter tried to take a pulse but he looked at them in worry.

"It's there. But it's so weak. I think Storm may have to act as a defibrillator soon."

They eased her out of the rubble. The sooner they got her back the better. They improvised with a stretcher made of Storm's cape and tried to stem the blood flow with ripped sections of their uniform. How on Earth could anyone who'd lost that much blood and still be alive? Suddenly her eyes snapped open, revealing pupils so slit-like with fear they were lost in the gold. She tried to sit up but fell back down and a low, animal whine slid from between her lips. She seemed unable to focus on them, simply having her eyes open because the light was preferable to whatever nightmares hid behind her eyes. Her breathing was short, shallow. The eight gashes had apparently been sustained when one hand had spun, ripping in just below her ribcage and tearing down the right side. The other hand had ripped horizontally directly across her stomach. She seemed to be trying to say something, voice so quiet they almost couldn't hear her.

"No…thought…if you go…survive…please…Ev…"

"I think she's delirious."

"Anyone who's that messed up shouldn't be conscious."

"I suppose you know all about that Logan."

"Slim, we have a dying team-mate here. Stop biting my head off."

"I'm glad Kitty isn't here."

They all exchanged nervous glances. If Kitty saw the terrible tears in Tora's stomach or if they weren't fast enough, saw a corpse, how would she react? With Thunderbird there were no recognizable features. Jean had effectively vaporized herself. But Tora's face was twisted with pain and a trickle of blood was running from her mouth. They'd seen the injuries she'd got in training and even when she'd fallen badly and dislocated a shoulder, her face hadn't shown a trace of pain. Now it was writhing as she tried to cope with the sudden draughtiness in her intestines.

As they moved her into the Blackbird and started using the emergency first aid kit, contacting the Professor and making sure Kitty had an unscheduled visit to see her parents. There'd been some argument because she was an X-Man- albeit one in training. But the general consensus had been that the injuries wouldn't even be shown in an X-rated movie and were definitely not something a fifteen year old should be exposed to.

When they got back her heartbeat was so weak they thought for a second it had gone. Only Logan had been able to sense the fluttering, dying heart, pumping the blood out of her wounds. Her breathing was laboured, every breath causing pain. Charles had called any and all doctors he could think of. Hank McCoy was there and Dr Strange. Apparently Reed Richards was offworld and the Avengers could only spare one Hank. Hank was the only one who dared speak.

"Oh my stars and garters. Charles, I'm not that good."

"I, however, am good enough. But my hands… I can show you how Dr McCoy."

"Do ya think she'll survive?"

"Wolverine, with injuries this bad, it would be a miracle if she is remains in a semi-vegative state for the rest of her life."

As if to express her disdain for that statement, Tora's eyes flew open and she murmured a word, a name.

"Logan…"

"Impossible. No one with such extensive injuries should be able to speak."

"Logan…sorry…so sorry…"

A fit of coughing stopped this, spewing blood everywhere. The impossibilities of her ability to speak and react were pushed aside by the more important task of preventing any more blood from leaving her already deathly white body. Stitches were used but her healing rejected them. Under his blue fur, Beast was looking pale.

"I don't know what to do."

"If the contaminated flesh had been cut away as soon as possible she may have healed. As it is, her immune system has started ignoring the injuries."

"What if another healing factor was wired up to her? Cut away the 'contamination' or whatever and give her blood transfusions from another with a healing factor."

Everyone gaped at Wolverine.

"I remember it happening to me."

The flurry of activity that followed was frantic. Logan suggested direct transfer, while Hank was nervously removing the skin, muscle and intestines that had been torn into. Finally the thin needles and tubes were placed in her arm and Logan's blood, filled with the hormones that allowed him to heal, reached the fluttering, dying heart. As they watched, hopeful, desperate, the gaping wounds began to slowly, oh so slowly, knit together. The monitor of her heartbeat showed it strengthening, starting to beat in time with the other heart attached by the plastic tubing. Her golden eyes were open now but still slightly unfocussed. There was no fear in her eyes. In fact, her pupils had dilated, becoming almost round and finally not looking lost in her oversized irises. She looked calm and almost happy. At any rate, the pained look on her face had gone and there was a slight twitching around the eyes that looked like she wanted to smile.

"At the rate she's healing, we'll have to either take some of Logan's blood and inject it in at regular intervals throughout the night. Or Logan could remain here with his blood being used as a healing factor by someone who apparently hasn't spoken to him for two months."

"I think I remember that. It was definitely borderline. I didn't attend in person of course. I sent Reave to that."

"Reave? The Edinburgh doctor you tried to kill then offered a job?"

"Yes. That one."

"The one who ended up joining the Avengers?"

"Yes."

"Is he still around?"

"Yes. I left him in charge. He's very responsible. Can we see more? This is better than those Mojoverse TV shows."

"You liked Mojoverse shows?"

"I spent a lot of time there."

It was dark and both were asleep. Tora lying on the medilab bed and Logan slumped over in the seat beside her. There were only a few thin white lines to show where, mere hours before, blood had been flowing freely. She had still been slightly delirious when she'd fallen asleep, muttering something about not being able to run the gauntlet. Logan had fallen asleep a while after. Tora was creating her own blood now but it was doing a double circuit. Round through one heart and into the other. Screaming woke him. She was struggling, trying to get out. He knew what was wrong. He often woke like that as well, screaming as he thought all the good times with the X-Men were just him imagining a better world. He reached out hesitantly. She'd probably gut him if he tried to touch her hand. Then her eyes were fixed on his. She wasn't looking through him but at him and somehow he could almost read her. She gestured weakly to the various drips and pipes that had been inserted into her bloodstream.

"What happened?"

"You…you're not going to start ignoring me again are you?"

Her eyes filled with a deep sorrow. For the first time ever he saw true emotion in them. Not the guarded emotions that she allowed out. He began to realize the depth with which she felt emotions and exactly why barriers were thrown up. Then she seemed to realize he was reading her and the barriers were up again. But he sensed it wouldn't take so much to push them down again.

"I…I…I'm sorry."

He tried to wave the apology aside but he realized how important this was to her.

"I messed up too. Should have told you straight out when I realized it was my fault."

"It wasn't though. I blamed you for something you had no control over. I got lucky, had someone there who told me not to lose hope. If he hadn't been there I think I'd have been everything they wanted me to be –and more."

She shuddered as if she was thinking of the fate that could have been hers.

"I think I would have been worse than you ever could be. It's still there. All the darkness swirling away, eating away at me. I have it under control, have had it there for years. Creed showed me what would happen if I gave into it, but before that I was frankly…I suppose you could say I was ill. I mauled a guard so badly he'd never walk again but I deliberately stopped before I killed him."

"If you didn't kill him, it can't have-"

"I destroyed his life. By the end of it he was begging me to kill him but I just continued to…play with him, like a cat plays with a mouse. They dragged me off him and punished me. That's when I got this."

She tried to tug her boot off but lapsed into a fit of coughing. Logan carefully removed it and gasped. Branded into her calf was the word 'ANIMAL'

"Each letter was done separately and when they'd finished they burnt it open again. After that I learnt better so I took my anger out on myself."

She traced the lines around her wrists and lower arms that were so faint even Logan with his enhanced senses hadn't seen them before she pointed them out.

"I've countless reminders of my time there. Each one still hurts a little."

"If those were done with your claws, how did you heal?"

"They cut out the enzymes as soon as they could. Then they put the adamantium gloves on so I'd do stupid stunts in training instead."

"Like?"

"Standing under a pile-driver. Jumping in front of lasers. Stupid stuff."

"You're right. You sound like you were pretty messed up."

"So what happened?"

He started as he realized she'd asked him a question and he'd totally forgotten about it.

"We think you fell on your own claws. And about three tonnes of concrete fell on you. Oh and you also suffered severe burns but those healed."

"Oh. So not too serious then?"

"WHAT!"

"I've had every injury under the sun. Dislocated limbs, torn tendons, amputations, broken necks…"

"Broken necks?"

"Three times. I think I was 13- that must have been it. I'd only just got my healing and I accidentally said 'Sir, may I throw a wine bottle at you' instead of 'Sir, may I pass you a glass of wine'. I think that was in Latin. I'm not very good at it."

"WHAT!"

"Shhh! You'll wake everyone else up."

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Forgot. But they broke your neck for messing up a single phrase…"

"I'd also accidentally on purpose alerted the FBI to the fact I'd been hacking their secret files for years."

"Ouch."

"Then I messed up a training exercise –that was the second time and called the Professor some of the…erm…choicer words I picked up from the guards –that was the third."

"I bet that was some ripe language."

"I think I managed to swear at him in over thirty languages. And I said 'Wewe mafuta nguruw' which didn't help my case at all."

"What did you call him?"

"Translated it means 'You fat pig'. It was the inventiveness he didn't like. He was fine with me spewing out all this terrible stuff I was obviously just copying, but come up with an inventive insult of my own was neck breaking punishment. It was worth it to see him face though."

"You thought having your neck broken was worth seeing some freak in a lab coat looking shocked?"

"Well I was bored. Sitting in a cold room for three days with nothing to do because your teachers are stuck in the snow is boring. Really, really boring."

"You were bored so you took to chucking cheap insults…?"

"I was thirteen. Sometimes I'd forget myself and stopped acting as they deemed appropriate. I'd laugh or smile and they'd punish me."

"How did you cope? Not go insane?"

"There was a guard who treated me like a real person. Used to play music outside the cell, chat to me, tell me about his kids. Dash of normalcy in a crazy world."

"What on earth was he doing there if he treated you like that?"

"Admin-"

"-error. I think I was once sent on a mission to do something I'd rather not have done."

"I thought there was nothing you'd not do."

"Yeah well I wouldn't do this. It's not nice so I ain't telling you what it was."

She smiled slightly but he couldn't help be feel that how they reacted to each other had changed. He wasn't as protective of her, was seeing her more as an equal than someone to be looked after. She suddenly looked up and voiced the very thing he was thinking about.

"This isn't like before. I've lost the feeling you're like a father. You're a friend. Just a friend. But I trust you. I haven't been able to tell the others about all…that. You're the only one who understands. I couldn't show them the brand or the cuts. They'd be scared or pity me. You just listen."

"Thanks."

She reached out and touched his shoulder. A gesture of friendship she hadn't been able to give before. She'd changed in the two months she'd been ignoring him. She was more human but with that slight suggestion that deep down an animal was curled up comfortably. That was the main difference between them. She accepted the animal and it fitted in with her, became a part of her. It was the human portion that caused her trouble. His animal wasn't like hers. His was a beast that tried to dominate.

"So that's when it all started?"

"Of course. But it started before that and after that and in a way it started when she was born."

"You've been taking to Fate again haven't you?"

"Of course. Some friends drop in before you do."

"I had the entire population of the universe to process remember?"

"And I had the biographies of every single person, plus all the sub realties and the basic laws of Physics to file. I rearranged the Archives eight times before you turned up."

"Time works differently, remember? I stayed away for eight days. Afterlife time."

"Pff."