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FIC: Theories (1/1) R/L, PG-13/R

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  • Sorcier√©
    Title: Theories Author: Sorcieré (hack_heaven@usa.net) Rating: PG-13/R. This is NOT a happy, happy, foofy fic. Pairing: R/L, Logan POV WARNING: Again, this is
    Message 1 of 1 , May 30, 2001
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      Title: Theories
      Author: Sorcieré (hack_heaven@...)
      Rating: PG-13/R. This is NOT a happy, happy, foofy fic.
      Pairing: R/L, Logan POV
      WARNING: Again, this is NOT a happy, happy foofy fic. I'm not kidding.
      Series: None
      Feedback: I'm addicted ;-)
      Archive rights: Sure. Go ahead. Just tell me where it is.
      Summary: Logan has some thoughts regarding mortality.

      A/N: I'm not sure how much sense this makes. It's finals time, so
      actually - there isn't that many things that *does* make sense at the

      To Victoria P. - May her plot-bunnies never run away ;-)

      * * *

      They wonder about it.

      Every single one of them - Chuck, Jeannie, Shooter, Storm, the kids -
      every single fucking one of them.

      They'd never ask me directly, of course. They call it "courtesy"
      and "politeness". I call it "don't have to guts to say it out loud".
      Among themselves, they phrase it in different ways, try to see it
      from new angles, but basically, it all boils down to one question:

      Why am I not afraid of the Rogue and her life-sucking power?

      I can understand why they're curious. I mean, when Marie shows even
      the slightest amount of skin, they part like the fucking Red Sea.
      It'd be damn amusing to watch, if I didn't know how much it hurts her
      when they do it. She pretends it doesn't bother her, but I can smell
      it on her, as clear as had it been written on a fucking neon-sign
      above her beautiful head.

      Anyway, I've heard a couple of their theories, and although some of
      them has come damn close, none of them have figured out the real

      One of the theories states that it's because I can heal from
      virtually anything, up to and - according to them - including Marie's
      touch. It's a popular theory among the students...mostly because they
      didn't see me after I saved Marie's life on the Statue of Liberty.
      Chuck and the X-gang, however, know the truth.

      I was in a coma for three days. Three fucking days. That's a long
      time for someone who can get thrown through a windshield, hit with a
      full-grown pine tree and slammed repeatedly against the ground before
      even losing consciousness.

      Jeannie later told me that in the first hours after the battle, I
      hovered between life and death. Apparently, they almost lost me
      Luckily, they'd given Marie some sort of strong sedative - she still
      had my healing factor, after all - so she was pretty much out for
      most of the night. I'm damn grateful for that. Marie has enough shit
      to deal with; she doesn't need any nightmares of me dying because of
      her. Because heaven knows that she's got more than enough horror to
      fill her mind - both from Magneto and me.

      So let's ditch that theory. I'm not immune to Marie's powers.

      Another theory - Jeannie's, I think - goes something along these
      lines: Because of my healing factor, I consider myself immortal, and
      thus, at some deeper level, doesn't understand the meaning of the
      word 'death'. Did I mention that I hate it when Red acts like a
      fucking shrink?

      This theory's even more ridiculous than the first one. I mean - I'm a
      cage-fighter, for fuck's sake! I beat drunken people up for a living!
      I even worked as an assassin for a while, damnit! The list of people
      I've killed is getting damn long. I know a whole lot more about death
      than the entire X-gang combined. You'd think Jeannie would know that
      after looking into my mind. Apparently, I overestimated her

      Sorry, Red, I *do* know the meaning of the word 'death'. Try again.

      Shooter's theory is that I'm "completely nuts."
      Hey, it takes one to know one, dick-head.

      This little theory is about as absurd as they can get. I mean, come
      on! The theory was thought up by a guy who dresses up in tight
      leather and plays superhero on a fucking weekly basis.

      I might not be the most mentally stable person in the world, but
      compared to Shooter and his merry superhero team...

      I rest my case.

      Okay, theory four: I'm so totally, completely in love with Marie that
      I don't even notice her deadly skin. This one came from one of
      Marie's friends, the one who has a whole fucking library of trashy
      romance novels and who can walk through walls - Kitty, or something.
      Whatever her name is, I think she's been reading one too many of
      those novels. That whole romance-thing is starting to get to her.

      Okay, so I like Marie. Yes, I might even use the word 'love', but
      that doesn't make me fucking blind or something. I KNOW Marie has
      deadly skin. I might not be the world's most literate guy, but I'm
      not stupid. I KNOW there is a reason why she's wearing all those
      clothes, and it ain't because she's freezing.
      I mean, shit! Did they think I'd forget about Marie's skin after it
      put me in a coma for three days?
      No, don't answer that one. I'd have no qualms about adding you to
      my 'People I've Killed'-list, if it came to that.

      I love Marie, but I'm not soaring around on some goddamn pink, fluffy
      cloud. Next theory?

      Storm's guess: I deliberately make sure to ignore Marie's lethal
      skin, so that she can act normal, at least while she's around me.

      Gotta give her points for guessing at least one of the reasons.

      Marie deserves to be happy - or, as happy as she can be with her
      mutation. She deserves to be able to act normal around other people.
      But that's a little hard when most of the students here are paralyzed
      with fear if she even takes off her scarf for a second. I know they
      don't do it to hurt her, and although their behavior sometimes pisses
      me off, I gotta admit that I understand them.
      I mean, they don't have a healing factor. If she touches any one of
      them, it'll be less than a second before the connection opens. Two
      seconds and they'd be unconscious. Three seconds and they'd be in a
      coma. Five seconds and they won't have to worry about homework and
      mutations and friends again - ever.

      So yeah, I understand them. But I also understand Marie's need for
      physical contact, if only through clothing.

      I can't change the way Marie acts around other people, but I can make
      damn sure that she feels comfortable around me, even when she wears a
      tank top and no gloves.

      So there you have it, 'Ro - you actually guessed one of the reasons.
      I'm impressed.

      And yeah...I *do* mean ONE of the reasons. There's more, you know.

      Once, I hear one of Marie's little friends - the ice-hole, I think -
      say that the reason why I wasn't afraid is because I have a death
      wish. He meant it as a joke, of course.

      But you know...it has a bit of truth in it.

      No, I'm not suicidal or anything. I'm not gonna jump from the top of
      the Empire State Building. I'm not gonna help bucket-head escape so
      that he can break my neck. It's not like I walk around and think
      about ways to kill myself (sorry to disappoint you, One-Eye).

      It's more like...I wouldn't deliberately try to get myself
      killed...but I wouldn't walk away from a potential life-threatening
      situation, either.

      It's...shit! How can I explain this? Shit...okay, do you know what
      it's like to have a healing factor like Creed and I have?
      Sure, you'd probably think it was great at first - wouldn't get sick,
      wouldn't die in some accident, wouldn't get hangovers, would heal
      from almost anything the world could throw at you...but after a while
      you start to notice things. Little things - like the way that bar-
      owner in Alberta would look just a little older every year you
      returned. He would have a few more gray hairs, a few more wrinkled,
      move a little bit slower.
      Little things, like the middle-aged woman who owned that small hotel
      in Alaska, the one who helped you after you woke up in the forest,
      unable to remember anything. You would stop by her hotel a couple of
      times every year, and eventually she'd even become one of your few
      friends. She'd look at little older each time you returned, until
      that time you came back and found that she'd died a few months
      earlier. And you suddenly remember that it's been twelve years since
      you first met her, and that you haven't aged a day.
      And that's when you really start to realize that you'll never really
      grow old - at least not for a very long time.
      And you start to become even more of a loner, always making sure that
      you never let people get to close. Because you know that you'll have
      to watch those people grow old and die, and each time a bit of you
      dies with them.

      Mutants with a healing factor...we don't die from sickness or
      injuries. We die from the inside and out.

      Like those fucking big, old trees you sometimes see - the ones that
      look like they've been standing here forever and will stay that way
      for a long time. Then, when you return a few years later, you might
      see some of them on the ground, toppled by a storm or whatever. And
      you can see the inside of the tree...and it's hollow. A black hole.
      Nothing there, nothing whatsoever. Just an empty shell that's
      virtually impossible to destroy.

      We die from the inside. We watch the people we care about grow old
      and die, and every time that little black hole in us grows a big
      larger, until there's no reason to keep fighting, until there's only
      an empty shell left of the person we once was. And then we either go
      crazy or suicidal.

      But before we reach that stage, we all have a different way of trying
      not to care about others. Not to let anyone in. Not to feel another
      part of you die.

      Look at Sabretooth. He decided to completely forget about his human
      side and turn into a beast. Maybe it works for him. Maybe it doesn't.

      I tried a bit of the same approach - let some of the beast roam wild
      and scare people off before they got too close. And it worked...it
      was an empty life, but at least I didn't have to watch anyone I cared
      about die.

      But then I met Marie, and I broke my one rule. I cared.

      And I've watched her grow into a beautiful young woman, and I love
      her, and...fuck! She'll grow old and when she dies, my heart - my
      human side - will die with her. And...and I can't stand that thought.
      I don't want to hold her in my arms as she breathes her final breath.
      Don't ask that of me. Because I can't.

      Call me selfish if you want. Call me a coward for choosing the easy
      way out. But shit! You don't know that it's like. I don't wish for
      Marie to get my healing factor, I don't wish for her to absorb it

      When I saved her...even as Jeannie and Hank were fighting to safe my
      life...Marie was losing the powers she'd absorbed from me. So maybe -
      just maybe - will her lethal touch not transfer all my powers to her,
      but still let her be a mortal person.

      Selfish, yeah, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. And now Marie has
      at least one person who isn't afraid of her. And if she absorbed me,
      even if she got all my powers, she'd still have me in her mind and
      she'd know that it wasn't her fault. And in a way she'd never be
      alone. And that would make it bearable.

      I wouldn't touch her deliberately - I'd never do that to her - but if
      she accidentally touched me...I wouldn't fight it.

      Because as I said, it all boils down to this:

      Why am I not afraid of the Rogue and her life-sucking power?

      The answer is almost terrifying in its simplicity:

      Because her touch means death.

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