Chapter Text
It's like this war going on inside my head...and I can't stop it.
It started after the Statue...when he gave me his power to save my life. When
he did, that bond formed, just like it always did. The line between Logan and
Marie blurred...and it was more intense than it ever was before. He wasn't
just inside my head...not a piece of him, like that night in his room, or that
one stolen kiss in MY room back home. It was more intimate and
more...intense...than anything I'd ever felt. He was in me and I was in him, and we were both
suffering, physically and mentally, but it all went away because we were
*together*...
That's when I finally pulled away. It terrified me...it scared me to death
that being so close to someone could ever feel that unbelievably good. I guess
not being able to touch anyone, I've gotten kinda phobic about being too close
to other people. A kiss, and one boy's in a coma. One touch, and I almost kill
the one person I really feel I can trust totally in this world.
That night on the Statue...I didn't just touch Logan. I didn't just crawl
inside his head, or he mine.
That night, *he* touched *me.*
I didn't realize it until the day he left...it was so harmless, so totally
innocuous that I didn't see it until after he'd done it. Just a lift of his
hand, fingers lightly combing through the new streak in my hair. A touch. A
willing touch. A hand in my hair, an arm around my shoulders, his fingers wrapping
around mine to press his dog tag into my hand...Logan was the only man, the
only human being on the PLANET that knew what I was, what I could do...and still
extended his hand to me.
He still WANTED to touch me...to be close to me.
I knew this all because I still had that little piece of him locked up inside
me...and I clung to it when he was gone. Every time I felt it slipping away,
I sucked it back down deep...I wouldn't let him go without a fight. It was
almost like using my powers on myself.
Six months after he left, the nightmares started. Only...they weren't mine. I
started having HIS nightmares...those ghastly visions of submergence, total
helpessness...the agony of being almost flayed alive, only to heal so they
could do it again...
The third night after they started, my screams woke most of the girls in the
dorm. I punched out Kitty when she tried to rouse me. She's lucky...I mean, I
didn't MEAN to hit her. I MEANT to do something else entirely.
The only reason she's alive is that I only have his dreams...not his
adamantium claws.
And there it is...his pain, his remorse. He hates himself for doing this to
me...at least the piece of him I still refuse to let go of. He hates himself
for causing me distress, overwhelming me so totally. But another part of him is
glad...almost gleeful.
And it's nearly the same as having him here, seeing the emotions wash across
his features...because I can't fathom for the life of me WHY this would make
him all so happy.
The dreams haven't stopped in a year...and there's other stuff, too. Stuff
that scares me even more.
The other day Bobby tried to kiss me...just on the cheek, and I wore my hair
down around my face. I almost wanted him to...and at the same time, I *didn't*
want him to...
Logan acted before I could stop him.
Bobby said he forgave me for grabbing him by the throat like that...I'm just
glad I'm not ACTUALLY as strong as Logan, or I would have snapped his neck,
pinning him against the wall with his feet hanging off the floor...
Logan wanted to watch him turn blue...wanted to kill him for touching me.
I KNOW I ought to go to the Professor with this, before I hurt someone.
But...I can't help it. I'm scared to death that he'll find a way to get Logan out
of my head, and then I'll be alone again. I'll be without the only person who
wants to be close to me, wants to with me and around me and within me, as close
as he can get...
So I watch my every move, careful to keep my piece of the Wolverine in check.
When the others ask what's wrong, I smile and lie, tell them I'm fine. I
don't think I'm fooling Jean much, but she hasn't said anything yet. Just looks at
me funny sometimes.
The Professor? I do my damndest to avoid him at all costs...because I KNOW I
can't hide from him. I don't even know if I'm hiding now.
I miss Logan...I miss him so much I ache. The only time I see his face is in
my nightmares...HIS nightmares. It's sick, but they comfort me sometimes for
that reason alone: he's there.
The only other comfort I get sometimes is when I sneak out of my bed at
night, after the nightmares hit. I slip out into the garden and just curl up on the
grass, watching the sky. I always look for the North Star and just stare. I
don't really know my astronomy, but I know how to find the North Star. I know
that it's the only landmark you can find when there's no other way to see where
you're going.
I know that wherever he is...Logan can see that same star and find his way
back, no matter what. Sometimes I even like to think he's staring up at it the
same time I am...it's silly, I know, but it's all I've got anymore. Stupid
stargazing.
So until I can find some way to win this war inside my skull...all I can do
is keep dodging the bullet by day, and wait for his demons to find me by night.
And look to the stars for answers.
**********
I need to remember to put a fucking shirt on next time...Christ Almighty,
it's cold tonight.
I still don't get it...I never had a problem sleeping before. Even with the
dreams...they woke me up? I'd roll over and go right back to sleep...that or
just stare at the ceiling until dawn illuminated the windows of the camper.
Now it's motel rooms, and the occasional impromptu camping trip, if you will.
But it's a hell of a lot different.
The nightmares are worse, to start with...fuck. It ain't bad enough I can
barely remember them, but now when I wake up in a cold sweat...it's fucking
ridiculous, but I ALWAYS feel like I'm being watched.
Then, of course, there's my fucked up little cure for insomnia these
days...when the dreams wake me up, I make a beeline for the window. That or I high
tail it outside, like now. Yeah, I know...not too unsual for the Wolverine,
right? Well, I'm not fucking running through the forests or any crazy animal shit
like that.
I look at the stars...or 'star', rather.
My eyes are always riveted to the North Star...and I got no clue why. Looking
for a big cosmic compass to help me find my way back to wherever the hell I
belong? Maybe. There's more, though...
...it's like...I know, I *know* that it's something Marie would do. She's the
stargazing type, I'm sure of it.
I can almost see her in my mind's eye, a pale angel in that long gauzy
nightgown of hers...knees drawn up to her chest with her arms around them, plopped
in the middle of the grass at Xavier's school, staring up at the sky with those
big innocent dark eyes.
Hoping with all her might that somewhere, I'm doing the same goddamn thing...
[tbc]