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REPOST FIC: The Weapon 11/12

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  • rimmette@earthlink.net
    Disclaimers, etc. in part one. ***** Two weeks later, Rogue woke to the sounds of Logan grunting and whimpering in his sleep, the muffled noises drifting
    Message 1 of 1 , May 2, 2001
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      Disclaimers, etc. in part one.

      *****

      Two weeks later, Rogue woke to the sounds of Logan grunting and
      whimpering in his sleep, the muffled noises drifting through the wall
      separating their rooms. It sounded like he was having a nightmare.
      She sat up and looked at her roommates' beds, but Kitty and Jubilee
      were still snugly asleep. They were apparently much deeper sleepers
      than she was.

      Marie bent down and pulled on her forearm crutches. It had taken her
      weeks to wean herself off the walker. Logan had progressed from
      wheelchair to walker to crutches in record time. Currently, he was
      using a cane, but in a few days, a week at the most, he'd be able to
      give that up, too. A healing factor sure came in handy. Marie had to
      settle for a slower recuperation period.

      Feeling her way with the crutches in the darkened room, she avoided
      stepping on the hidden obstacles of Jubilee's dirty laundry, books,
      and CD carrier that were strewn across the floor, and made it to the
      door.

      Once she was out in the dimly lit hallway, she could hear Logan more
      clearly.

      "Nnnn... Marrrr... Hmph... Nnnnn." Logan mumbled.

      She reached for his door handle, but to her surprise it was locked.
      She knocked on the door instead.

      "Logan?" she called, trying to keep her voice down so she didn't wake
      up anyone else.

      Her voice only seemed to aggravate Logan's dream, his vocalizations
      becoming louder and more desperate. His mournful voice was filled
      with pain and anguish.

      "Logan!" she called louder, concerned now only about waking him up
      despite the effect on other mansion residents.

      "NO! MARIE!" Logan cried at the top of his lungs and then a *SNIKT*
      could be heard through the door.

      "Logan?" Marie called through the wooden surface. "Logan, are you
      ok?"

      He wasn't whimpering or moaning anymore, so he must be awake, but he
      didn't answer. All she could hear from his room was deep, labored
      breaths as he tried to bring his adrenaline-filled body under control.

      Doors clicked open and half-asleep faces peered into the hallway,
      looking for the source of the disturbance.

      "It's ok," Marie whispered in what she hoped was a calming
      voice. "Logan just had a nightmare. Go back to bed."

      Most of the bleary-eyed people returned to their rooms without
      comment. A bleary-eyed Jean and rumpled Scott came rushing out of
      their room, however, almost as if her comforting words had woken them
      up more than Logan's scream.

      "Rogue, are you ok?" Jean asked, looking her over.

      "Yeah, fine," Marie answered, puzzled by their concern for her. "I'm
      worried about Logan. He won't unlock the door."

      "He locked the door?" Scott asked. "Thank heavens he listened to me
      for once in his life."

      "What's going on?" Marie asked, her suspicions rising every second.

      "The last time Logan was here, he had nightmares, and he didn't wake
      well," Scott explained. "I thought if his memories started to return,
      the nightmares might too, so I suggested he lock the door."

      "How will locking the door help bad dreams?"

      "Rogue, the first time Logan slept in this room, he hurt you when you
      tried to wake him up," Jean clarified.

      "No. Logan would never hurt me," Marie answered, shaking her head in
      denial. "Besides, I would have scars."

      "He didn't mean to," Jean countered. "He thought he was still in his
      dream and attacked. You touched him and absorbed his healing factor.
      That's why you don't have scars."

      "I... He..." Marie stuttered, trying to absorb this new information
      about her past which, despite her efforts, she couldn't remember. "Is
      he awake?" she finally asked.

      Jean closed her eyes in concentration and then nodded.

      "Ok, then it's safe. Go back to bed," she ordered them, turning all
      her attention back on Logan's door.

      Jean and Scott exchanged looks and then turned and retreated to their
      room.

      "Logan?" Marie whispered. "Everyone's gone. Open the door."

      She waited, but there was no response.

      "Please?" Marie asked, feeling her voice break a little. "I need to
      know you're ok."

      "Go away," Logan growled through the wooden barrier.

      "Not until I see you," Marie replied. Determined to wait, she
      settled herself down into a seated position on the floor, getting as
      comfortable as possible for what she was sure would be a long wait.

      She was surprised that after only about 10 minutes, she heard a deep,
      surrendering sigh from the other side.

      The doorknob clicked as the lock was undone, but the handle was never
      turned, and the door remained shut. Marie climbed back up to her feet
      and turned the handle on her own. Crutching in, she saw Logan's dark
      silhouette sitting on the bed, accented by the moonlight flooding in
      from the open window.

      "Logan, sugah."

      "You shouldn't be here," he grunted, but made no move to force her to
      leave. She slowly made her way to the bed, sitting down on the edge
      beside him.

      "Tell me about your dream."

      "I... Scooter was right. I hurt you."

      "That was years ago, and you didn't mean to," Marie assured him,
      reaching out to stroke his bare arm with a gloved hand, trying to
      soothe his pain. "Tell me what happened exactly."

      "The dream was so weird. It was night, and for some reason, I thought
      taking you to the Statue of Liberty in our pajamas was a great idea.
      Well, I got you to the top, right on the flame, and then I sta..."
      Logan coughed, trying to clear his throat of its sudden tightness. "I
      stabbed you. Right through the chest. You were gasping for breath and
      had this strange look on your face, like pain mixed with
      understanding and forgiveness.

      "My heart ached, and I knew I had to save you. I reached out to touch
      you, to see if your skin would absorb my healing power when out of
      nowhere, this giant covered in animal skins and stinking of death hit
      me right in the face with a log, knocking me off the flame and down
      onto the head.

      "For some reason, I'm out of my pajamas and in my regular clothes,
      and we're fighting on top of this statue head while all the time, I'm
      desperate to get back to you. I knew you were dying because of what I
      had done, but he wouldn't let me go.

      "He tried to throw me off the statue, but I got my claws out and
      looped around one of the points on Liberty's head. When I land again,
      I'm dressed in tight, black leather, like I'm the star of a bad S&M
      movie. It wasn't just me and the Eau de Carrion guy anymore, either.
      Jean, 'Ro, and Scooter were there, dressed in black leather, too.

      "They distracted the guy so I could attack and knock him off the
      statue in the same way he'd tried with me. By now, I'm frantic to get
      back to you, but I can't move. There's this guy as old as Chuck
      holding out his hand at me, and I'm frozen in place. Scooter blasted
      him good while he was distracted with me, and I'm finally free to go
      to you.

      "I clawed my way up the arm of the statue and finally reached you.
      Blood had pooled around the metal floor from your wounds and your
      face was ashen. I ripped off my gloves and pulled you to me, but
      nothing happened. You were already dead, and I'd killed you."

      "I'm alive. I'm here," Marie reassured him, looping an arm around his
      waist.

      "It was so real and weird all at the same time. I felt like it was a
      memory, but it couldn't have been."

      "Not unless you carry around three sets of clothing and change faster
      than Superman," Marie pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. "We
      can talk to the professor tomorrow and figure out what really
      happened, ok?"

      Logan nodded, but he was still shaky from his nightmare.

      "Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" Marie offered.

      "No!" Logan answered quickly, pulling out of her hold. Shaking his
      head and trying to calm down, he said, "No." again, almost sadly. "I
      don't want to hurt you."

      "I trust you, Logan."

      "I can't be trusted, Marie. Not while I'm asleep."

      "I don't believe that," Marie answered vehemently.

      "I can't sleep if you're here. I'd be too worried," Logan said,
      trying another tactic.

      Marie conceded when she saw Logan's pleading eyes. "Ok, but we talk
      to the professor tomorrow."

      -----

      The professor helped clear up matters a little. The main points of
      Logan's dream had actually happened to them; it was just all jumbled
      together and mixed with Logan's own fears of what might have
      happened.

      Even with the professor's explanation, Marie still couldn't remember
      any of those events and that bothered her. She'd been getting memory
      flashes almost every day, but they usually related to her childhood
      and not her life over the past few years. Why couldn't she remember
      more of her life at the school or her time with Logan?

      After their meeting with the professor, Logan and Marie decided to
      take a walk around the mansion grounds. Logan still leaned on his
      cane slightly, but it was clear to Marie that she was the slow-poke
      now, still struggling with her forearm crutches.

      Content in each other's company, they walked in mutual silence,
      thinking about the past Logan's dream had revealed. The professor
      had warned them that Logan might experience his previous nightmares
      of torture and experimentation, and since she had absorbed Logan, she
      might, too. Marie hoped for both their sakes that that little bit of
      Logan's past would remain hidden.

      -----

      They were just approaching the lake when the professor's mental shout
      invaded their thoughts.

      ~The school is under attack. All students report to the bunker. X-
      Men, we're surrounded, but the main contingent is towards the east.~

      Logan and Marie looked at each other, concern reflected in their
      eyes. The lake was on the east side of the mansion. They were
      directly in the line of attack and neither of them could run.

      Logan pulled Marie up over his shoulder before she knew what was
      happening. Her crutches flew out of her hands and landed on the
      ground where she'd been.

      "Logan. I'll just slow you down. If you go alone, you can make it!"

      "I'm not leaving you," Logan stated firmly.

      He walked as fast as he could, but he wasn't even halfway back to the
      mansion, leaning heavily on the cane and puffing in exertion, when
      the soldiers appeared.

      Logan pulled Marie off his shoulder and down in front of him, using
      his body as a shield when they opened fire. Pain blossomed in his
      back as he took a few rounds, then the shooting stopped and the real
      battle began.

      A red beam shot into the soldiers approaching him, blowing their
      formation apart. Cyke! The X-Men had arrived.

      Cyclops kept firing at soldiers while the winds picked up and
      lightning began to strike the ground around other troops. Logan
      could see soldiers take aim, but their weapons refused to fire.
      Jean's arm was outstretched, her face a mask of concentration. The
      professor sat beside her, his eyes focused on the men attacking his
      school.

      Logan couldn't believe that four people were holding off an army, but
      he saw it with his own eyes.

      "Get out of here!" Cyke commanded, pointing at him and Marie.

      Logan wanted to stay and fight, despite his weakness, but he had to
      make sure Marie was safe first. He pulled her up and leaning on each
      other, they started again for the mansion.

      They were almost there when a shot rang out, and Marie fell. To
      Logan, it all seemed to happen in slow motion. She was there,
      stumbling along beside him, and then her body slammed against him
      before pirouetting to the ground.

      More shots echoed from both sides and from behind of Logan, and soon
      he joined Marie on the ground, bleeding from a dozen wounds. The
      army or whoever they were had flanked the X-Men, keeping them busy
      with a heavy frontal assault while sneaking up on both sides with
      more troops.

      Why hadn't Chuck seen it? Was he too focused on the battle in front
      of his face to feel the minds closing in for the kill? Logan would
      never know, for from his perspective on the ground, he could see the
      X-Men and their leader each be picked off and killed.

      There was no time to mourn for the fallen, though. Marie was hurt.
      Chuck had told him this morning that absorbing his mutation had saved
      Marie's life twice. He could save her again if he acted in time.

      Reaching out a thankfully gloveless hand towards Marie's face, he
      came up about a foot short. He had to pull himself painfully to her
      side before he could brush his fingers against that pale skin. Once
      he did, all he felt was soft skin. No powerful connection. No
      absorbing powers.

      "No," Logan choked out of his shredded but healing lungs, pulling her
      face into both hands and willing her to take everything he could
      offer.

      After a few agonizing seconds with still no response, Marie's
      mutation finally activated. Logan could feel his body weakening, the
      pain from the gunshot wounds building again in his body. He didn't
      care. Marie needed it more than he did. She had to live.

      As he touched her, their memories were released, and he relived the
      feelings of concern, panic, caring, and even love that he'd had for
      her two years ago. Feelings that grew even stronger when combined
      with his experiences after arriving back home. They were meant to be
      together. Marie was everything.

      'I love you,' he thought to her before he succumbed to
      unconsciousness.

      -----

      Marie could feel gloved fingers feeling her pulse, as well as a cool
      hand against her cheek, when she finally woke up.

      "This one's alive, sir."

      "Very well, tie her up and put her in the truck with the others."

      The cool hand was pulled away as the body lying next to her was
      pulled from her side.

      "This is the Weapon, sir. He's dead."

      "I can see that, Johnson," the irritated commander's voice
      retorted. "He's supposed to be invincible. How did he die?"

      "Just a guess, sir, but from how this gal is healing, she probably
      absorbed his powers."

      'Healing? Absorbed? Dead? Logan?' Marie's disjointed thoughts
      swirled through her head before an inner voice interrupted.

      ~Hi, darlin'.~

      *****

      See part twelve.
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