THE ILLUSIONIST WOMAN

five. Unlikely Alliances

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"AH, YOU'RE EARLY..." A voice seethed near Ximena's ear. She blinked her eyes open to complete darkness. A fiery chill going down her spine. "You're too early," It tutted, disappointed.

She wanted to ask what they meant. Why they were so knowledgeable. Her mind was on fire, like it was melting. She had so many questions but every time she thought of one, her mind resisted and sent a blaring flare across her cerebral cortex. Her screech of agony was lodge in her throat, preventing her from crying out.

Gasping for air, relief, anything - it suddenly clicked where she was. And the gravity of it all became unbearable. Nails scraped along her flesh and it felt like millions of hands were reaching for her skin, peeling it off her again and again and again. It was pure torture.

It was hell.

A chuckle echoed around her. Through one ear and circling around the other. The sound caused her ears to bleed and she trembled in her comatose state, shifting from left to right. The peeling started again, commencing in long strips from her knee to the top of her thigh. Ximena choked on her own blood convulsing.

She was being punished, she just knew it somehow. For coming back early. For dying too soon. A sob wracked through her as she unconsciously sobbed for freedom. She was desperate, she didn't want to be back here.

She hated it.

Her sensitive, exposed muscular system flinched at the sudden piercing grip on her chin. It was familiar and struck genuine fear down to the pit of her stomach. Her sightless eyes sought a face to connect with the poisonous touch. It was futile. They didn't want to be seen, so she wouldn't see.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

A rapid fire coated her entire body, stretching her limbs out till her tendons cried out in protest. Her lungs couldn't scrounge up any air to fill them and she sucked on breathless gasps, suffocating. "I said... HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON." The voice became boisterous, booming over her ear drums till they shattered in a thunderous ache.

At this moment, she was begging for death. A real one to end it all. She couldn't cry, speak, yell and yet, she was forced to feel every sensation the devil could concoct to make her writhe under its thumb.

She felt unbelievable small, helpless and weak. She felt her consciousness concede with the inevitable. Ximena was nothing but a sack of bones, a puppet for the master.

It seemed as soon as she came to the realization, the pain vanished. She couldn't even comprehend the relief, it felt like an eternity that she had been suspended in torment. Years, decades - she swore she kept count of each second - hoping it would end. And now, she was left with the scars. The striking memory of each strip of skin was pulled bare of her body.

Her entire being, was wasted.

"Do it right this time."

Were the parting words she was left with before she gasped awake in the back of X-Jet.

Huffing out her sporadic breaths, she helplessly reached for air. An ache centered from her forehead and with assured movements, she shakily pulled the bullet from her head and let it fall to the floor with a - clink! Ximena slumped back onto the seat, spent and still incredibly sore. Like the torture she endure was engraved on her mind, so it was engraved on her body.

A psychological wound she couldn't shake.

"Hey," The masculine voice startled her. Ximena jumped, her neck cracking as she whimpered and fell back against the seat slack. "I'm sorry - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Logan moved her side as he had been watching her the entire time since they landed. His eyes sorrowful yet; full of relief. The sky had gone dark and the rest of the unlikely allied team were in the woods, building a fire, getting ready for a meeting. He just wanted Ximena to be okay.

The ashen look to her normally golden skin worried him. She held a permanent grimace. The mark of pure fear in her eyes was unmistakable, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. She was in pain. Multiple levels of pain he couldn't comprehend, but could see clear as day. Because he knew her.

"Hey," He took care to soften his volume, sliding his fingertips over the pale skin of her face. "You're alright."

Ximena glanced up to Logan's face and immediately felt the tears weld up in her eyes. There were only two times Logan had ever seen Ximena cry and both had shattered his heart into a million tiny pieces. This was the third and he absolutely hated it.

She parted her lips to speak but choked on whatever was trying to come out. Her sniffles echoed around the empty jet and Logan instantly moved to his knees to be at eye level with her. He shushed her, running his fingers through her hair and he noticed she twitched with every caress. Even her tears caused her pain.

"What happened to you..." He wasn't looking for her to answer, but as her sobbing picked up, his dread only increased.

Logan grabbed her hand and jumped when he heard her hiss. "Ow," was the first word she said to him and it crucified him. Tentatively, he opened her palm and his eyebrows furrowed deeply to the middle of his forehead at what he saw.

A freshly branded mark of a quarter was seared into her palm. Heads up, the marking was undoubtedly a twenty-five cent coin. His confusion only multiplied.

Shifting his gaze away from the jarring burn mark, he softened at her blank, knowing stare. "Do you want some pain medication? I know Jean has to have something in here."

Ximena stayed mute, only nodding once before laying her head back down on the seat with a shudder. Trying to be of use, Logan stood and shuffled around the jet. He opened compartments and glance in them sparingly before coming back with a small bottle of ibuprofen.

Taking out three and then deciding she might need four, he hurriedly dumped them into his palm and handed them over like they'd cure her frazzled state in a matter of seconds. He didn't know how to handle her quietness, it was disturbing and definitely not the woman he knew and cared for.

Ximena took them one by one from his hand and swallowed them dry, heaving with nausea before exhaling tiredly. "Thank you," She murmured. Still polite despite her obvious discomfort. "How many days has it been?"

Logan made a disgruntled face. "Mena... its the same day." By the confusion blinking across her features for a second, he realized she wasn't happy with his answer.

"Do you need anything?" He offered, tapping his side as he shifted his feet. Ximena simply shook her head, staring off into the distance without focus. "Do you want anything?"

"Can you hold me... please." Her voice was small, like a child's. It pulled at his heart strings like a harpist lulling their listeners to an ethereal, moving tune.

It disarmed everything tough, guarded and strong about Logan. His defenses had abandoned him and the void was suddenly filled with traces of her soul. He couldn't deny her, not that he wanted to. Wherever Mena needed him, he would be.

Carefully, he slid his arms under her body and winced at the sounds of pain Ximena tried to cover up by pursing her lips. He sat in her spot before laying her body over his, cocooning his large frame around her in a protective embrace. He felt a lone tear drip onto his arm and felt compelled to lay his head on top of her own. Low murmurs of sweet reassurances drifting to her ears from his lips reconditioned the torment she heard in death.

She didn't fall asleep, she couldn't. She wouldn't. For she knew what nightmares awaited her on the other side. However, she mimicked sleep by closing her eyes and letting Logan soothe her in his own way. Maybe laying with him for only a little while won't make her such a burden.

Ximena felt safe in his embrace and that's all she ever really wanted. Just for a little while longer.

...

IT WAS AN HOUR later when Ximena finally got up from her fetal position of traumatic stress. She had found a navy blue combat suit with the X-Men emblem on the sleeves in one of the compartments and slowly got dressed in the planes bathroom with dull eyes. Her senses were on red alert, but her movements were mechanical and detached. The branding on her palm was still there, had healed into a permanent part of her skin.

A reminder, she supposed.

Logan had went to tell everyone she was awake. Despite his instance that she stay out of the planning and mission work, she told him to gather the adults around the fire like they were initially. She wouldn't hold them up and she certainly wasn't going to be counted out.

Her fingers fumbled with the zipper of the fitted suit, her long hair getting caught between the metal combs. She frustratedly jerked the strands out, shoving them behind her back before continuing. Her breast were the main hurdle, but they too were sucked up in place so the zipper could glide over. Ximena was out of sorts.

She wrenched on the tap and blearily watched the water flow for moment too long. Filling a handful into her palm, she splashed it over her face, scrubbing down as a cool relief calmed her redness. Her body leant over the basin, shoulders sunk low, face inches from the tiny mirror.

Ximena looked at her face and saw a different person. It happened like this the last time. Every time she died, she changed - little by little. The glare of her eyes was darker, filled with scarred sensory overload. She squeezed them shut before sighing in exaggerated gasps. Her arms trembling before she grinded her teeth and steeled herself to the present reality.

I could do this, Ximena coached herself to leave the bathroom. When the door open, she was met with the dark blue face of a stranger. She stumbled and Kurt steadied her with a small smile.

"Hello, we haven't met yet. I'm Kurt Wagner." His accent was heavy, slurring his words together although Ximena got the gist. She nodded, rubbing her hands down her suit.

"Ximena Dominguez," She spoke in an tired exhale.

He observed her for a second, too short to comment on but she noticed. His lips parted in hesitation, apprehension marring his blue-hued features. "I couldn't help but tell you were in distress... and I was wondering if you'd-w-would you like me to pray with you?"

Furrowing her eyebrows, Ximena eyed him strangely. She had never gotten this offer before. And the last time she prayed was when her mother brought her to the church to kneel at Mary's candle lit alter. It was to pray from Daniel's health and seeing as it didn't go well for her despite her prayers, she didn't see the worth in doing so anymore. Especially, after the horrid things she had seen.

She wondered if Kurt had been ease dropping on her and Logan's conversation earlier and why he felt his prayers would save her by any means.

Still, she took the kindness offered to her. Not wanting to disrespect his culture, she nodded mutely and followed along with him as he uttered a few foreign words in his native tongue. She didn't feel some miraculous change but she did recognize her branding starting to sting. Whether if it was connected or she was still feeling the effects of the torture, she didn't know. But as Kurt open his eyes and smiled wide to her in encouragement, she certainly felt lighter than she did beforehand.

That definitely counted for something.

"Uh, thank you... Kurt." She didn't know how to handle the conversation, swallowing gently as she knotted her fingers.

"Oh, don't mention it, I'm always willing to relieve burdens. Come, I believe everyone has gathered now." Kurt gently guided her by the elbow out of the jet, as if worried her feet were unsteady.

They were surrounded by woods. Talks trees and bundles of wild bushes. Crickets chirped, sounding next to her ear and yet, she was sure they were yards away. The noise travelled, along with the crackling of the bonfire as the sparks fizzled into the night air.

Ximena allowed Kurt to be of assistance. His manner of which he spoke, walked, helped her - was all very soft and gentle. She knew he could be capable of dangerous things, just like everyone in the world. But she had a feeling he didn't have a dark bone in his body. Maybe it was because he prayed often and felt like his stresses were believe channeled somewhere out of his hands.

Her amber eyes were darkened in the night, wandering over her teammates and surprisingly, her foes too.

"Ximena, we're glad you're okay. We were worried sick," Ororo met Mena and Kurt halfway, her maternal hands sliding down her arms in a comforting plea for Ximena to soften. She glanced over her short frame, instantly noticing something was different but not having the exact words to call it out.

Instead, she kissed her cheek, earning a small smile from the brunette. Storm taking the reigns from Kurt by interlacing their hands. "Come on, little one."

It was quite ironic, Ximena was far older than Ororo but the endearing woman insisted on mothering her. The Illusionist didn't fault her for it though, because she believed everyone needed a maternal friend in their life. She sometimes wondered how it would've gone if she was the mom friend, but then she remembered her lack of patience and stubbornness.

Ororo brought her to stand in the middle or herself and Jean. The ginger brushed her brown hair from her face, smiling softly in relief. "I'm glad you're awake. Thought I lost my best friend for a second there," Jean spoke in Ximena's mind and the Doctor fought to keep her emotional tears in. In exchange for crying, she winked - using humor like she usually did to overcompensate for her pain.

"Can't get rid of me that easy. I made a promise to you, after all," She thought right back.

"His name is Colonel William Stryker," Erik started the meeting without delay. "And he invaded your mansion for one purpose. He wanted Cerebro. Or enough of it to build one of his own."

"But that doesn't make any sense. Stryker would need the professor to operate it," Jean voiced, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Which, I think, is the only reason my old friend is still alive." Ximena made a hissing sound as she sucked on her teeth, head tilting back in realization.

Logan glanced at her in confusion, looking around at the assembled team for the answer. "What are you all so afraid of?"

"While Cerebro is working, Charles' mind is connected to every living person on the planet. If he were forced to concentrate hard enough on a particular group -- let's say mutants, for example -- he could kill us all." Erik's voice became laced with bitterness and venom, driving home the true gravity of the situation. Although his explanation enough was a good cause to get riled about.

Ororo suddenly waved her hand to gather everyone's attention, pursing her lips with disgruntlement. "Wait a minute... How would Stryker even know where to find Cerebro in the first place?"

Their great foe turned his sight to the fire, his eyes reflecting the flame. "Because I told him. I helped Charles build it, remember? Mr. Stryker has powerful methods of persuasion... even against a mutant as strong as Charles."

"Mind control?" Ximena questioned aloud, tilting her head slightly. "Hypnotics?"

"Maybe even brainwashing," Storm contributed, but Ximena shook her head in disagreement. She touched her forehead as she worked through her thoughts.

"No, that would take too long. It has to be quicker, more efficient..." She trailed off and the team allowed her the moment to think, Jean nodding her head before moving on with more questions, thinking it could possibly help.

"So, who is this Stryker, anyway?"

"He's a military scientist. He's spent his whole life trying to solve the mutant problem. If you want a more intimate perspective, why don't you ask Wolverine?" Ximena dropped her hand from her tensed forehead, shifting her gaze to Logan briefly. It seemed the entire team was turning to him for answers, answers she knew he wouldn't have. Questions to those answers that were eating him up inside. "You don't remember, do you?"

"William Stryker, the only other man I know who can manipulate Adamantium. The metal on your bones? It carries his signature." Logan was startled, his face was a blank mask but his heart raced erratically.

He squeezed his eyes shut to fight the building ache behind his eyes. His breathing winded. "But the Professor..."

"The Professor trusted you were smart enough to discover this on your own. He gives you more credit than I do." Magneto's words were like a harsh slap to the face. Logan had never felt such betrayal before, but he didn't know if it was valid enough to feel angry. He had been scouring the globe for a little less than two years fro answers to his desperate questions and yet, Charles had known all along.

The revelation rocked him to his core and settled bitterly in his bones.

Ximena glanced to Logan's disquieted reaction and gritted her teeth, narrowing her flame reflected eyes towards the antagonizer. She didn't like seeing Logan in such a exposing situation. A glass house to Magneto's throwing stones. "So why do you need us?"

Raven spoke for the first time since they gathered, distrustfully observing the group. Her voice was melodic, like a lowly playing cello. "I've discovered plans of a base that Stryker's been operating out of for decades. We know that's where he's building the second Cerebro, but we don't know where this base is."

"But we know that one of you might," Erik added.

Logan shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "The Professor already tried."

"Once again, you think it's all about you."

Ximena followed Magento's shift in attention, tilting her head up to spot Kurt hanging from a tree. She felt a small smile quirk at her lips, a hum exhaling from her nose. Kurt awkwardly smiled at being caught, body swaying slightly. "Uh, hello."

Jean took the initiative to search Kurt's thoughts. Her breathing unsteady as her hands slightly shook. The Artist became concerned for her friend, moving a step closer with a prominent frown. Yes, she had her own problems to deal with on top of everything else, but her friends often had top priority no matter how many times she was dissuade from it. She wondered if Jean's were getting worse.

"Stryker's at Alkali Lake," She sighed.

Logan glared at the ground, already knowing something was wrong. He didn't want to believe he had been wrong. "That's where the Professor sent me. There's nothing left."

"Nothing left on the surface, Logan," Jean replied. "The base is underground." When he stormed away in a fit of frustration, the group turned to Ximena without another word. She sighed, knowingly before taking off after him.

Logan groaned to himself as he plucked out a cigar and lit it accordingly. His back hitting a tree truck as he secluded himself further in the woods. The rustle of the bushes made him groan once more.

"I came out here to be alone, Mena."

The brunette pursed her lips, glancing down to her burned hand before shrugging in annoyance. "Good night, Logan."

"...Wait." There was a pause in the rustle and Logan held his breath before blowing out the smoke. "Stay."

Her gorgeous features debuted as she came through the tree line. Heart shaped face, darkened eyes and a delicate sway to her hair and hips that was simply natural for her. Logan observed her long and hard as she trekked closer, brushing the foliage out of her way. "You are by far the most confusing man I've ever met."

"I try," He swallowed, touching his cigar back to his lips as he turned to the night sky.

"What're you thinking up there?"

"Why I try..." Ximena nodded silently in understanding, moving to stand directly in front of him, her back leaning against her own tree. The bark was rough, but she hardly felt it by the barrier of her suit.

"Why do any of us? Logan... you wanted something, your memories, because you feel it'll give you purpose -- an identity and you were disappointed when it turns out your identity would be harder to retrieve than you originally thought." She smiled small as he turned to her, eyes briefly falling to her lips as he soaked in all she was saying. He took note, that she hadn't called him James and the difference was far more jarring than he thought it would be.

"Nothing worth having is ever easy... and you don't need your memories to tell you who you are." She took a step closer, pointing into his white shirt clad chest. His dog tags clinking with the movement. "You've got us for that."

He felt the corner of his lips quirk around his cigar. "I guess I do."

Ximena nodded, "Damn right you do. We good?"

"And by that, you mean -- you and me." He changed the subject, wrapping his hand around her wrist to caress his thumb over her hand. Her pulse jumped and both of them could easily feel the electricity raising in voltage throughout their veins.

However, he was surprised when Ximena sighed and slipped her hand from his grip. "I don't think that's a good idea. We've already had this conversation... I don't want to have it again knowing the outcome would be the same."

Logan tried once more, his heart thudding as she was emotionally distancing herself from him. She came to talk to him as a friend and the loss of her weight in his heart nearly crippled him. He laid his large hands on her shoulders, sliding up and down to bring her comfort -- to solidify the instability of their relationship right now. "You don't know that," He tried to reason but she shook her head.

"Don't I? God, it's like every time I think for a second that I could be happy again with someone who doesn't look at me like I'm a fucking monster -- you go and prove that I'm not worthy enough to change your mind about us." Her voice raised for a moment before she recollected herself.

Maybe her nerves were shot. She was overwhelmed with everything she'd just endured -- dying, again. For a cause she thought worth the risk, only to come back with her confidence depreciating and her anxiety skyrocketing. She felt unbelievably small again and she hated it.

Softly and slowly, she peeled Logan's hands off her arms and held them for a second longer. "T-that's not true, Ximena. It's not," He spoke firmly.

"I don't know what to believe, really. You say that, but then you brush me off and make excuses. Actions speak louder than words and I don't just mean having sex with me."

Logan was speechless, not knowing she felt this way. He didn't know his distancing, his actions, would cause such a reaction out of her. He should've known, should've paid attention during their years together when she'd snuggle into his chest at night. Offered to make him breakfast before heading out. When she's constantly check up on his mental state.

Ximena was a woman of loyalty. He knew that the moment they went on their first mission together. She gave her all and never expected anything to pay her back. However, after a while, when certain affections weren't returned, such a one-sided relationship grew frustrating. All too quickly, he began to realize he took advantage of her loyalty and expected her to continue on with no strings.

His lips parted to right his wrongs, wetting his bottom lip as his eyebrows furrowed deeply. "Mena... I'm sorry," He exhaled in a sorrowful exasperation. "Hey, hey I can be the good guy, yeah. I can try to be the good guy for you."

The resolve in her expression made his heart drop. Her sad, watery smile spoke volumes. "Logan, the good guy sticks around. You don't have to be someone you're not for me. In fact, I strongly don't want you to be."

Glancing between his eyes, her face softened. She squeezed his hand once before pressing a chaste kiss to his wrist. "Good night," She muttered, slipping away from him back into the brush like she hadn't truly been there in the first place.

She left him wrecked, lonely and quite frankly, rejected. And although, that's truly how she was feeling in their one sided relationship for a while now, it didn't feel any better that she'd let him taste his own medicine.

...

JEAN FLIPPED OVER TO face Ximena as they decided to share a tent for the night. She scrutinized her friend's contemplative expression. Without even peeking into her mind, she knew the level of panic going on in her head. By the open eyed stare as her eyes started rimming red, Ximena was trying not to sleep.

The ginger knew this feeling all too well.

"You saw it again, didn't you? Whatever haunted you last time." Ximena squinted her eyes at the nylon material of the tent, feeling her eyes slightly water because of their dryness. She barely wanted to blink.

Parting her lips, a ghost of a whisper permeated the small space with a terrifying chill. "I had disappointed them this time... They told me and I can't get it out of my head -- the shame." She briefly squeezed her eyes shut before forcing them back open. "I can't stand it, not knowing."

"There is fear in not knowing." Jean murmured, speaking from experience. Her head tilting towards the top of the tent, mirroring her friend. "But I think... knowing would be just as frightening, if not more."

The statement wasn't meant to help either out of their situation but the complete honesty of confessing such dark thoughts was relieving in itself. Ximena felt a crushing weight on her chest and Jean understood in some way.

She felt a tear slip from her eye and slid down the side of her cheek to the mat under her. But in the next second, she felt Jean intertwining their shaking hands tightly. Much like they were battling their demons together and the only thing to keep the darkness away was their unbreakable bond.

"The promise you made me," Jean broached.

Ximena hummed in recognition. "Well, I make it right back. You've got me... until the end."

A sob got stuck in the brunette's throat, her eyes finally shutting before she turned to face Jean. The two embraced, facing their fears of the night together. Not knowing of the chaos that would ensue for the both of them with time.

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Unedited. 7/26/21

My baby can't catch a break, I'm crying. I think Ximena's reaction and decisions concerning Logan had a lot to do with her "punishment" earlier on top of everything else, but you let me know what you think. Do you think Logan was really going to go back on his views in that moment?

Also, who is messing with my girl!? It's only going to get crazier from here. Jean and Ximena are everything: We all know I love me a brunette and ginger bestie duo.

Let me know what you think, comment, vote! Xx