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FIC: The Protector (Rated R)

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  • Ally
    Title: The Protector Author: Ally Rating: R for violence and language Summary: What happens when a telepath is also a schizophrenic? Disclaimer: The X-Men
    Message 1 of 1 , Apr 30 9:05 PM
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      Title: The Protector
      Author: Ally
      Rating: R for violence and language
      Summary: What happens when a telepath is also a
      schizophrenic?
      Disclaimer: The X-Men and all the canon characters
      aren�t mine, dammit, although I wouldn�t mind if
      rights were signed over to me. *eg* Stacey is my
      mind-child.
      Category: POV-mystery character, Violence.
      Feedback: YES PLEASE! Good or bad, I�d appreciate it.
      And I've already had one request for a sequel...if
      you want it, let me know.
      Archive: WRFA, XMMFFA, others ask.
      A/N: Blame this on sociology and the ideas that class
      gave Furball. Also on Sez and Jenn who said It�d
      work. I hope they were right. No matter, this was
      something I had to write. It�s very dark and
      pain-filled. Yes, the angst-Queens here have affected
      me. *g*
      A/N2: This makes the assumption that Marie was just
      meant to be a contact-telepath, and that she is
      eighteen. In the story, Logan has been gone for two
      months.
      Dedications: To the above mentioned pair, who have
      supported me for a while now. To Diebs, who
      whimpered. To Nacey, for reading and thinking that
      it was great, and for some help with what the Prof
      might say.

      < > is Xavier talking telepathically.

      * * * * *

      <Tell me what happened.>

      I knew he was home from the shouting. I huddled under
      my thin quilt, trying so very hard not to cry. I even
      hummed tonelessly, my fingers stomping up my ears, in
      an effort to drown out the sounds of his yelling and
      the impact of flesh slapping against flesh.

      As always, it became too much to bear, and I pushed my
      blanket aside. Grabbing the worn arm of the one
      friend I had, my doll Lissy, I padded across my cold
      room on bare feet and nudged the door open wide enough
      to see through the crack.

      I could see the shadows on the wall. He was hitting
      her again, I knew. Mommy said she didn�t know why he
      did it. I knew it was because she was bad, though.
      We were bad. That�s what Daddy said, over and over,
      every time.

      Something strange was happening, though. Daddy wasn�t
      stopping the hitting, even though Mommy wasn�t crying
      anymore, wasn�t making any sound at all. I froze, not
      wanting to move. �Please don�t let him see me,� I
      begged, holding Lissy tight against my shivering body.

      That�s when I heard the shot. I didn�t know then what
      it meant, just that it was bad. The bad guys in the
      movies and on television always got into lotsa trouble
      from doing things to make that sound. I covered my
      ears, forgetting that Lissy was in my arms. I didn�t
      hear her drop to the ground, her hard plastic head
      causing a loud bump, because I was crying too hard.

      He was looming above me before I knew it, yelling at
      me to shut up. He was swaying side to side a little,
      like he usually did, but that didn�t stop him from
      reaching for me. I ducked out of the way because I
      knew what was coming.

      �You stupid little bitch, shut up!� he yelled at me,
      swinging a fist at me. He held a bottle in that hand.

      �Please, Daddy, no! I�ll be quiet! I won�t be bad!�
      I cried loudly, ducking out of the way again.

      �Didn�t I say shut up? Listen for once, bitch! I am
      so sick of you!�

      The bottle hit my shoulder, and I felt pain, like the
      fire I�d accidentally touched a month ago when Mommy
      and Daddy had been busy, rushing down my arm. I cried
      louder. I couldn�t help it. I really was sorry, and
      I wanted to stop being so loud, so that Daddy wouldn�t
      hit me again. But I couldn�t stop, I just couldn�t.

      His fist slammed into my stomach next. I screamed
      really loud. I didn�t want to, but it hurt. I
      couldn�t breathe after that, or yell or even cry, but
      he kept hitting me. I could feel that bottle every
      couple of punches, the glass surface pounding into my
      skin the way even his fists and feet couldn�t.

      I tasted something salty in my mouth. That was when I
      was on the floor, and Daddy was kicking my legs so
      hard. I heard something crack, over the curses Daddy
      was screaming at me, and the worst pain I�d felt so
      far was there, in my thigh. I did cry again, then,
      silent tears that maybe wouldn�t make Daddy mad.

      I didn�t see the lights when they came because by that
      time I couldn�t see anything. My eyes were swollen
      shut. I didn�t hear the pounding on the door because
      my ears were ringing from where Daddy�d hit me with
      that bottle, right there beside my cheek. I felt wet
      streaks all over my body, and somehow I knew it wasn�t
      all tears.

      The hitting and kicking stopped. I felt someone touch
      my hair, really soft, and through the bells in my head
      I could hear someone saying�something. I tried to
      focus on the words, but I was so tired now that Daddy
      had stopped.

      The next thing that Marie knows is that she woke up in
      a hospital bed. Her leg was broken, her body covered
      in bruises. They told her that she was in a bad
      accident, that it wouldn�t happen again. She believed
      them. I prayed they were right.

      She doesn�t remember what really happened, doesn�t
      even remember most of her life before that. Only the
      good parts, and some shouting. She does know that
      Daddy killed Mommy, and that�s why she was sent to
      live with the cousins in Iowa when they finally found
      them two years later. We were six when Mommy died.
      She was eight when we moved to Iowa.

      <What happened next? Why didn�t you just recede into
      the back of her mind, stay there where there wasn�t a
      chance of you being discovered?>

      I tried. I stayed as small as I possibly could in her
      head. But the cousins Marie was sent to, Richard and
      Gail, were from Daddy�s side of the family, and they
      had his morals. They also owned a really big farm and
      didn�t have many neighbors. The people who worked for
      them wouldn�t have been able to find other jobs,
      mainly because there were none available at the time
      that didn�t require college degrees.

      The first time I had to surface and make her forget
      was when Gail smacked her so hard it left a bruise. I
      took over her thoughts, guided her through the days it
      took for her bruise to heal. Made her remember
      falling against one of the stable doors when it was
      partially open. That�s how Gail was explaining it,
      anyway.

      Some things there I had to let Marie deal with, like
      the way Gail�s ten-year-old daughter Helen would tease
      her mercilessly about being fat and stupid, even
      though she was neither. When Marie began school that
      fall, I was always there in the shadows. I learned
      what she did, and with some subjects I�d help her.
      Math was never very easy for her, but I thought it was
      fun and so I would take over and do her homework.
      Marie would have been worried, if I�d let her. But I
      knew how to control her memories. It was so easy to
      make things up and put them into her mind.

      The next time I surfaced to help her with real trouble
      was when she and Helen got into a fight. Marie was
      twelve and Helen was fourteen. Marie has a temper,
      and Helen pushed her just far enough to make her lose
      it. She�d done that before, but not with these
      results. They really went at each other.

      Gail caught them before more than hair was pulled and
      arms were scratched. Gail beat Marie then, really
      hard. There were welts on my back for months. I
      stayed in control the entire time because I had to. I
      couldn�t let Marie find out what had happened and run.
      That was always her first instinct. Run from the
      trouble, run from the danger. I couldn�t. They�d
      only bring her back, and there�d be worse trouble.

      Richard had been gone on a trip to take some cows
      north when it happened. He�s another reason I had to
      stay in control so long. He came home, heard when
      happened, and pulled off his belt. Right there in
      front of Gail and Helen, he grabbed me by the arm and
      beat my back with that leather belt until I bled. I
      wouldn�t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry,
      or even change my expression. I�d learned that long
      ago. I�m stronger than you might think of Marie as
      being. I�ve had to be.

      <Don�t you think she�s old enough to handle the truth
      now? She�s not six or eight or twelve anymore.
      Rogue�Marie is almost eighteen years old.>

      Of course she�s not old enough! Could you handle
      finding out that your father almost killed you? That
      the people you were sent to afterward by the very
      establishment that had rescued you were pretty much
      just as bad? I�m Marie�s only defense against
      something that could harm her irreparably. I�ve kept
      all of the bad incidents out of her memories. I�ve
      been her when I had to be. Until�

      <Until she began to change. Her mutation manifested,
      and�?>

      Suddenly I wasn�t able to help her the way I had been
      before. I could feel what happened the first time she
      touched someone. You and she all think that her
      powers showed themselves when she and Cody kissed.
      You�re wrong. She wasn�t aware of the first time
      because I was in control. I was doing her
      pre-calculus homework when Cody came into our bedroom.
      He touched my shoulder to get my attention, and
      that�s when I felt it. His emotions, his thoughts
      were pouring into me. I swirled around really fast,
      but it wasn�t because I was surprised. Oh, no. You
      see, Professor, when the power came I did feel how it
      happened�and what I could do with it. I didn�t have
      to take over Marie to protect her anymore. All I
      needed to do was *twist* the power a little. And all
      of the abuse she�s suffered over the years made it so
      easy for me because her body and her mind were already
      used to coming up with defense mechanisms. That�s why
      I�m here, after all.

      Marie is a contact telepath. I am too, for that
      matter, I�m part of her. We receive the thoughts and
      feelings of others through touch. It wasn�t a painful
      experience, that first time. I didn�t know it would
      be when I changed things, but even after I realized
      how much it cost her I couldn�t let go of the perfect
      opportunity to help her. It was so easy to make her
      skin do more than it was supposed to whenever someone
      touched her.

      <Why don�t you let Marie have control? Can�t you
      trust her to protect herself? Trust us to protect
      her?>

      But you couldn�t. You didn�t. And she can�t. Only I
      can. I�m the strong one.

      <I�m sorry we weren�t aware of Magneto�s plans in
      time. It was an honest mistake. And I think Marie�s
      very strong and brave. She hitch hiked with a rather
      frightening looking guy, Logan, and was hitch hiking
      before that for eight months. Don�t you think that
      took some courage for her to do?>

      I was always there, whispering my help. I think she
      sees me as her conscience or something. It�d be
      amusing if the situation weren�t so serious.

      <Why can�t you let yourself be just that? Let Marie
      have back what you took from her to create yourself,
      what she took from herself to create you. Be a part
      of her again, child.>

      I can�t. What if she needs me again? Marie doesn�t
      know how to protect herself.

      <Listen to me, please. If you become a part of her
      again, Marie will know all of these things. She will
      be able to protect herself. She might even start to
      like math.>

      A very nice try at humor, Professor. And I�m almost
      tempted to believe you, Professor. But I can�t. I
      just can�t.

      <Perhaps in our next session, then.>

      Perhaps.

      <Same time next week?>

      Yes, Professor. Same time next week. Do we have to
      go through it all again, though? Can�t we talk about
      something different?

      <I�m afraid not, Lissy. Not until you can let Marie
      be whole again. We must relive it all. I truly am
      sorry.>

      So am I, Professor.


      * * * * *

      The End.




      =====
      You know what they say. Big claws, big....
      ~Sarah says from the Wolverine X-Fiction Site

      It's the people who claim they're perfectly sane who really scare me.

      Shit, that's the one thing in life I do pretty well - Marie care and maintenance. ~Logan from Terri's "October Fools and April Showers"

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