John found himself questioning his surroundings once again when he was shoved into his "new room".

To his right he caught sight of something in wall. It was entirely made out of glass and for a moment he thought it may have just been a mirror. But then he saw her. Marie.

She was hovering near the windowed wall, squatted down in the corner, poorly hiding the panic she was clearly feelng.

Her eyes had large bags under them and a red tinge. Her face was pale. Her wrists had left over bruises from cuffs she must have been wearing up until recently. She was the very image of worn and broken.

"Marie?" He asked, turning fully to the glass.

Her head fell to the side, bumping the window in the process and her lip began to quiver. She mouthed something he couldn't quite catch. Her expression somehow grew more sullen when they locked eyes.

John finally noticed Dodger standing behind her, wearing a sickeningly pleased grin. He spoke to Marie, causing her to spin her head and to look at him. Disbelief clearly written on her face.

He tried to hear the conversation, but had no luck.

Marie slowly turned to look back at him, horror filling her tired eyes.

In an instant two soldiers entered her room, hoisting her up and dragging her back towards the bed by her arms. He could hear her muffled protests as he witnessed the scene unfold.

"Hey!" He hit the glass with his fist. "MARIE!"

A nurse entered the room with what appeared to be a needle in his hand. When Marie caught sight of him she began to protest and resist more. They snapped her wrist cuffs into place with some difficulty as she thrashed against them.

"PLEASE!" Her pleas could be heard as the nurse closed in on her.

"She has been a hard one to break." Dodger suddenly appeared next to John. "Absolutely no sense of self preservation."

Anger flared in John. Up to this point he hadn't really given much thought to what suffering Marie was going through. She was the dumb one who had signed herself up for this. She chose this life. It was something she was going to undergo regardless of if he was here or not.

But despite who she was to him, right now she was another of his people who was being tortured.

"Leave her alone!" John barked, he knew the instant the words left his mouth he had made a mistake.

"Well, I was doubtful of this plan working, but Dr. Coy was right. You all can't stand to see the other one suffer."

John kept his composure. What kind of games were they playing around here?

"Admittedly, I couldn't figure out how we were going to get to you. You were just such a little spit fire." He paused and laughed at his own joke.

John watched as Marie's cuffs were taken off and all the extra people in the room made their way out, leaving her looking like a nervous wreck on the bed. Her eyes kept shifting around the room. Should they land on him, she always shifted away as if she had been caught doing something bad.

He didn't want to pity her, but he couldn't resist.

"Yes, I believe this arrangement will work out nicely." Dodger added.

He wanted to know what they had given to her, what they were doing to her. But to ask those questions would only encourage them. It would boost their egos that they were finally going to break him.

She was rocking now on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Her face was hidden, buried in her knees.

John slowly turned to glare at Dodger, "Nothing will work out. She's been pathetic since the day we met, the only difference now is that she is a pathetic human."

Dodger didn't look convinced, "We'll just see in a few days' time."

With that, he left. His door slam apparently was heard in Marie's room because she jumped and looked around alarmed. When her eyes finally landed on him, she held his gaze for a few moments. She looked like a nervous squirrel.

She said something, but he couldn't hear it.

-xx-

After the needle was pulled from her neck, the soldier's grip on her eased. She felt the weight and sting of the cuffs fall away. Everyone else in the room stepped away from her. She knew from past experiences she had merely a few minutes before the drug fully kicked in and she would be lost in the terrors of her nightmares again.

In their rush to restrict her, they had forgotten to shut the door to the room. This was her chance. She could bolt.

After sucking in a quick breath, she did.

They were on her the instant she moved, but that didn't stop her. Her legs burned from the sudden movement, running was an action she hadn't performed in weeks. She didn't take a turn sharp enough and slammed into a wall, something that sent a not so pleasant sensation down her left arm.

Finally she made it to the main lobby, uniformed patients blurred in patternless motions. She was desperately looking for a puckered sour face among the expressionless ones.

But then she heard the yell from down the far hall as well as the clatter of the soldiers chasing her.

"Marie!" a strong voice boomed from behind her, causing her to jump.

Suddenly she was back in her room. The door sealed and no way of getting away. Two soldiers stood on either side of her and the nurse who had given her the injection staring at her. They were blurred figures, no real definition to their faces.

Just pastthem, in the corner of the room was Logan's dead body, bullet wound still spilling blood out onto the floor. In addition a silvery liquid spilled out as well.

It was the drug. Logan wasn't really laying on the floor dead. She hadn't really gotten away. The room was not really filling with fog. There weren't neon lightning bolts surging through the air. Her ex-boyfriend wasn't standing just behind the nurse, glaring at her in disgust. She wasn't in a concrete room in a concentration camp. And John wasn't trapped in the mirror looking at her like he had seen a ghost.

She pulled her knees to her chest and began to rock. Repeating her mantra "It's not real."

None of it was happening. She was locked in her room. Alone.

A sudden slam brought her from her chant and all the illusions disappeared. Fear gripping her, adrenaline pulsing through her tired body.

No one was there. Except John. In the mirror. Looking at her with concern. A look he never wore.

"I'm sorry, John. I'm trying." Her voice broke on her last word.

She wiped her tears and snot of her the knee of her pant leg, still trying to rock some sort of soothing into her mind.

How long had it been since they left? Seconds, minutes, hours? When she finally released her legs and surveyed the room she found it empty. Except John, who was no longer standing at the mirror but sitting on the reflection of her bed.

With hope she reached out her hand to where he would be on her bed according to the reflection, but was met with familar disappointment at the emptiness.

Shakily, she stood and walked toward him. What could it hurt? At least in this vision he was okay. He looked better than that last time she saw him. There was no impending doom on him.

In a matter of steps she was at the mirror. He looked so real. So close she could touch him if she just reached out her hand. The sudden coldness at her fingertips from the mirror reminded her that he wasn't there. Wasn't real. Just a figment of her medication. What a beautiful figment he was. He looked healthy and...alive.

He had stood from bed and met her at the mirror, as if he were acting as her reflection.

He was saying something, but she couldn't hear him. He looked angry and concerned all in one.

"I wish you were real." She whispered as she slid down the mirror to sit next to it. "I wish you actually okay. And not here. I never wanted this. Not for you, not for me."

I'm back babes. ;) And according to the Deadpool trailer, so is our boy. 3