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Re: FIC: Causa Anima [4/18] [PG-13]

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  • tosh
    ... Okay - part four - don t read this post. Read the next post called Part Four because I missed some corrections. I feel SO STUPID. Sorry. That s what I
    Message 1 of 3 , Dec 9, 2001
      tosh wrote:

      > Causa Anima
      > by Nancy Lorenz
      > E-mail: tosh@...
      > Rating: PG-13. Some violent, disturbing themes.
      > Archive: XMMFF, WRFA. All else, all ya gotta do is ask.
      > Classification: General, Character Death, slight L/R UST, S/J
      > content.

      Okay - part four - don't read this post. Read the next post called
      Part Four because I missed some corrections. I feel SO STUPID.
      Sorry. That's what I get for doing ten things at once eh? :P

      (Feeling so unprofessional).
    • tosh
      Yeah, this is the corrected one. Disclaimers in the last and next emails. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter Four: Cataclysm She could feel him
      Message 2 of 3 , Dec 9, 2001
        Yeah, this is the corrected one. Disclaimers in the last and
        next emails.
        Chapter Four:

        She could feel him moving her, feel things happening about her.
        Words floated past, through her, she never registered them.
        Just listened idly and wondered at their meaning. For some
        reason all she could do is lay limp in his arms and gaze towards
        whatever was in front of them, be it the gleaming doors of the
        hangar, the brushed steel glinting in the 'x' shaped doorways, or
        the worried faces of her comrades. She laughed. It was the
        sensation of light vibration, shuddering her chest and pulling at
        her cheeks. It was something. It wasn't pain. Her friends were
        sad and some part of her reveled in it - and she hated it. She
        rejected it, but it was bound and clawed and taking her whole.

        God help me... she breathed, God help me now.

        She'd felt sad before, been rocked through every inch of her
        soul. Disgust and hatred for herself had seeped in and become
        too well known in her past but now... oh now. Now there was no
        reason. No reason for the heavy, suffocating yearning for death
        that swamped her. And the grief, oh the grief. The world
        shifted and moved as she felt herself being laid on a bed... a
        medical bed. Strong swift hands swaddled her up in the starched
        sheets, the smell of sweat and blood rich and sour around him.
        Strangely it merged with a faint whiff of cologne, and for a
        moment she spared a glance to him, to notice him instead of the
        war in her mind.

        Oh God he was beautiful.


        His voice... rough and heavy with tenderness matched the soft and
        fearful glint in his hazel orbs. He was scared.

        "Marie dammit, talk to me."

        She gave a huff, eyes sliding to the ceiling, "Hh... I don't -
        want to speak."

        She could sense suddenly, it was overwhelming. Every glance to
        Logan was more than his face, more than his looks. A splash of
        emotion totally alien yet beautifully familiar would rush through
        her mind, as if more was there and she'd been so blind. Maybe
        she had been - was this how Jean felt? How she lived and saw?
        Or Xavier?

        Perhaps that's why he was so wise. She let her mind drift to
        him, settling on calm blue eyes. Older eyes, steely and strong,
        but with that blue, that sea-like blue that was soft and gentle
        and loving. A soft sob fell from her as she thought of him
        wheeling down here... he knew and he'd be disappointed.

        For the first time she noticed that Logan had laid his head on
        her shoulder, face pressed against the leather there, his hand
        gripping hers tightly. His eyes flashed up to meet hers.

        "What's wrong?"

        She sniffled. "People love me."

        He frowned with some confusion. "Huh?"

        "H-I'm," she shook her head, "I'm only gonna disappoin' 'em.
        Cause Ah'm bad! I'm BAD!"

        "Bullshit," he breathed, leather-clad hand caressing her cheek,
        "Marie you-" He closed his eyes, still holding her hand and he
        met her lost gaze. She'd drifted off again, head tilted
        elsewhere. He pulled her gaze back with a tuck of his hand at
        her jaw. "Marie - you saved me."

        "Ya didn't need savin'," she sobbed, looking away, "You'w're just

        "I was lost," he persisted, smoothing her hair, "You stopped me

        She felt her gaze pulled back to him, and the crash of emotion
        that spilled through her from his eyes was the closest thing to
        comfort she'd felt in hours. It was crazy and wild and
        possessive and fearful, but it was all blissfully Logan, and
        anything of him was safe right now. He kept the angry volatile
        flash of her mind at bay. She tilted her head, peering at him
        with child-like wonder.

        His lips were quivering, his eyes red. Yes, he was scared. And

        "I'm not good for you," she said, speaking light, barely feeling
        anything at all, the crash of everything inside taking out all
        sense within her, "You worry too much."

        His brows twitched down and he nodded, "Yeah, I worry about ya,

        She closed her eyes and sighed, her face twisting as another wash
        of sobs took her. She didn't know why she sobbed; she just
        needed to. There was anger and rage inside of her, loathing and
        distress and all it wanted to do was smash through her mind and
        pull her down into nothingness. If it hadn't been for the
        shifting of Logan's head to the nape of her neck, his hand
        clutching hers at her chest, she'd not have realised he had been
        speaking to her.

        "...ver's going on in there you hang on. Hang onto me if you
        have to - I don't mind. Just don't be hidin' in there."

        "Not hiding," she croaked through sob-swollen vocal chords,

        He held her tighter, sighing long. "Lemme fight with ya."

        She let her cheek rest against the ruffle of his hair, "Not your
        fight, sugah."

        It was all very surreal; the scene seemed too strange. Her
        thoughts swirled in a battling cacophony as a sudden weariness
        overwhelmed her. Logan was there, at her side. For a brief
        moment, she felt safe, and that brief moment was one her body
        seized upon to rally against her and pull her down into a fitful

        He laid there, his arms around her, eyes locked on her face as
        she slid asleep.

        This was all so wrong. Worry racked him, tightening his stomach
        to knots. Something wasn't right with Marie, he knew, but in her
        flashing eyes was a wash of fear he didn't know. He wanted to
        know - he wanted to squash the fear and promise her that she'd be
        okay, that she didn't need to fear anything. He wanted her to
        get up and grin brightly and wag her legs in the air whilst
        chewing on the end of a pencil and writing tender Latin poetry on
        his bed; Not lay there looking as if her limbs were lead. He
        barely noticed the presence of Jean Grey next to the bed. Her
        voice reached out to him like a soft nudging.

        "It's good she's finally asleep."

        Logan nodded slightly, sitting up.

        "What happened out there Logan? I want details."

        He didn't want to think about what happened out there.
        Remembering was pure torture on him. He pressed his finger to
        his lips, carefully backing away from Rogue so not to wake her.
        Finally at his feet, he pressed his lips to her hair.

        He joined Jean as she strolled from the small observation room,
        closing the door quietly behind her as Logan walked through.


        Logan took the moment to lean against the wall, letting out a
        long sigh.

        "It was a fucking nightmare, Jean." He closed his eyes a moment,
        then shook his head. "I dunno. We got out there, and this
        bitch comes floatin' down from on high and starts kicking the
        shit out of us."

        "And Marie tried to stop her?"

        "Naw," Logan shook his head again stared at her long, "I did."

        Jean nodded.

        "She was strong man, fucking strong. I'm talking Superman
        bending steel strong, ya know?"

        "I see."

        "Yeah," Logan grunted, "She made short work of me."

        "So she moved on to Rogue?"

        Logan sank down the wall and sat on a long bench against it.

        "Yeah, must have. Rogue had touched her, to stop her from
        killing me. She stopped her but I slipped out cold like a right

        The lady doctor gave him a firm glare, "I'm sure you did what you
        could Logan."

        He shrugged, "Wasn't enough was it? I couldn't even walk, for
        fuck's sake. She must've broken one of my legs. She was
        strangling Rogue, and Rogue was touching her - and I couldn't
        even fucking move."

        "That coincides with the bruising on her neck and face," Jean
        said, running the tips of her fingers over her chin. "You killed
        the woman then?"

        "Her name was Binary, apparently," Logan said, a rush of loathing
        bursting inside of him at the mention of her name, "And I stuck
        my claws in her yeah. But she didn't look in very good shape,
        Jean. I think Rogue had just about finished her off."

        He did not miss the dread that flickered in Jean's eyes.

        "You think that's bad?"

        She sighed and shrugged, "I don't know Logan. Who knows what
        effects nearly taking someone's life with this power could have."

        She was trying to get to something, he didn't like her beating
        about the bush. He jutted out a bottom lip with a rumple of his

        "What're you sayin'?"

        Jean gave a light flutter of her eyes, shrugging again, "This
        mental disruption - it could be permanent, it could be over
        tomorrow night."

        He grit his teeth, steel determination growing in him, "Well
        let's be workin' for tomorrow night, huh? She can't miss too
        much school cause of this shit."

        Jean looked a little exasperated, and he didn't want her to.
        Cause if she was exasperated, that meant something was wrong,
        specifically with Marie, and something wrong and Marie were bad,
        and he didn't want to accept that there even COULD be anything
        wrong with her that couldn't be fixed up. The touching thing
        was bad enough. The look on the doctor fell to a dark one, and
        Logan's stomach twisted tighter.

        "Logan, I'm afraid Rogue could be in some form of counseling
        because of this event for some time yet."

        He gave her a wide-eyed glare, "Well - for how long?!"

        "I don't know yet," Jean said gently, "I still have to assess her
        mental state."

        "What's to fucking assess?" he growled, anger rising, "She's
        upset damnit! She nearly killed someone!"

        Jean just closed her eyes as Logan's temper let loose, relief
        washing over her features as the door to the infirmary opened.
        Cyclops stuck his head around the door, worry in his brow.

        "Everything okay here?"

        Jean nodded silently, "Yeah. Just discussing Marie's condition."

        He nodded, moving out into the main infirmary, Logan and Jean
        following as he spoke.

        "What's the news then?"

        "I've been observing her for the past half hour," Jean said, "Her
        thoughts are muddled, her perception of her own persona is shaky
        at best. She's feeling incredible guilt over things she hasn't
        even done, and uh..."

        "Killin' that bitch," rumbled Logan.

        Scott's light expression faded, "I thought you did that."

        "No, he just - uh - helped her along," Jean said, leaning against
        a workbench that lined the walls of the infirmary.

        "Why didn't anybody tell me about this?" the Leader said, looking
        to Jean and Logan. Logan just grunted, shaking his head.

        "We just did."

        Scott nodded and clenched his teeth. "Right. So - she's
        mentally unstable?"

        Logan clenched his teeth, "No, she's UPSET!"

        Jean sighed, gripping Logan's arm.

        "Logan, she's more than upset. She's going through deep mental
        trauma. I don't know what else to do but to treat this as a
        Multiple Personality disorder and try to calm her down with


        Logan's shout rang off the wall and both Jean and Scott
        flinched. Logan glared back at the observation room and sighed,
        his voice lowering to a hiss.

        "Listen, Jean, I don't know how many people you killed in your
        life, but doin' it for the first time is kind of a mind-fuck, ya
        know? So she's shaken - you'd be too after your first!"

        Jean rolled her eyes a little, "Logan, this more than that-"

        "NO!" Logan said, pointing at her, "No fucking sedatives. She
        can deal with this. She said so herself - she's gotta fight

        Jean blinked, her lashes wavering softly, "And what if she

        "I think it's her right to take that chance," he said gruffly,
        "Don't you?"

        Scott shook his head, "What if Xavier could help her sort it

        Logan's face drew calm. "What do you mean?"

        "Well," said Scott, "Xavier probed my mind when I first got to
        this school, to see if there was any way to control my powers.
        I'm just thinking, perhaps he can help her - sort out all the
        different thoughts somehow or-"

        "No," Logan shook his head, "No see - then Xavier would have put
        a nice patch over the problem and it's still not solved. She
        needs to deal with this. Herself!"

        Jean's gaze became a glare, dark eyes stern. "You're not her
        legal guardian, Logan."

        "Nope," he said, shaking his head, "But you wanna stick anything
        in her or fuck with her brain - ya gotta get past me!"

        At that he swung around, stalking back into the infirmary
        observation room.
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