THE ILLUSIONIST WOMAN

seven. Down Memory Lane

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"WAIT, SHE'S GOING TO DO what now?" Logan furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at Professor Xavier with a scowl.

They were in his office again, the Professor's, and somehow discussing the inner workings of Logan's mind. Charles thought it would work to have Jean tap into his mind and unlock the inhibitors standing in the way of his memories.

The only problem with that was, his past was traumatic. They were triggering enough to have him choke out Ximena when he woke up in a unfamiliar place, that is. Whatever finagling Jean would be doing in his mind could cause a switch to flip, completely change his reactions to people and or his memories of the present.

Nevertheless, the Professor promised to help Logan find out more of his past, provided he stay a while at the school. At the time, it seemed like a win-win situation. But now, Logan was growing more apprehensive at every second the grandfather clock ticked.

"Infiltrate your brain and perform a sort of biopsy to erect your past memories to the forefront of your mind." Xavier spoke clearly, confidently. Hands folded in the center of his lap.

"And this is safe?" He protested, folding his arms over his chest as he glanced at Jean standing patiently and posed beside her mentor.

"I'll be there, monitoring the entire affair. We'll have reinforcements if something goes awry. Worrying will only stress the stakes of the situation further." The wise Professor waved his hand to dissuade his concerns.

A contemplative silence fell hush over the room. Logan shifting his gaze between the two mutants. He personally would've preferred if Ximena could've been present to help out. There was something calming about her presence, humorous even. And at least he knew she was very knowledgeable on her craft.

Ximena knew what she was fucking doing down to the gritty details.

Jean was being mentored by the Professor. Not yet as skilled or master over her telepathic abilities. Of course, he had regenerative properties but that didn't mean he was eager to have his mind penetrated and probed like a damn alien subject.

Sighing despite his apprehension, he inclined his head. "Where we doing this?"

The vibrant red head smiled. "We have a room. It's best to do it where you can be the most relaxed."

"Yeah well, relaxation isn't really my thing. You got a sedative?" Professor Xavier chuckled as he led them out of his office. Although, Logan was no where near kidding.

...

THE MATERIAL IN WHICH he laid on was itchy. Scratching against his skin, though beggars couldn't be choosers. He was situated in an ugly bedroom. The wallpaper was some pink and orange floral shit. The bed had been moved out to make room for a makeshift lounger in which he was laid on at an upright angle.

They strapped him down with leather belts to keep him in place because they didn't want a repeat of last time. At least they gave him a small pillow to rest his head on. His dark brown gaze on the ceiling above.

This whole scene felt claustrophobic. Like he was in the middle of a horror movie, getting ready to get mind wiped. Which wasn't too off kilter from reality.

Jean came in with Professor Xavier in tow. Her deep red hair was tied back on top of her head, eyes sharp and determined. Like Xavier just gave her a pep talk before walking in. That didn't leave him too confident in her gifting.

"Alright Logan just calm your heart rate and close your eyes." She situated herself in a seat behind him like a massage therapist, lightly pressing her fingertips on his temples. "This might sting for a bit."

"Why --" Logan stiffened his whole body, grunting as he squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly understood, first hand, what she meant by sting. "Son of a bitch."

Shot into a deep abyss his eyes snapped open into a completely different environment. His body tilted like he was in a zero gravity chamber until he was laid flat on his back again. A total 360 that made his stomach roll.

The lights were suddenly flicked on. Bright fluorescents that burned his corneas though he found himself unable to blink or close his eyes at all. Something held them back from completely shutting out the radiance of the ceiling as it passed him by in a blur. Like his eyelids were stretched open, secured by an unyielding elastic to the top of his scalp and the inside of his nostrils.

Jerking in his sudden constraints that appeared, wrapped in binding leather, reinforced with metal cuffs. Logan didn't have any say in where he was being wheeled to.

"He's going to go into shock soon if we don't calm the situation," Jean forewarned with subtle fear. With her fingers still pressed to his sweating skin, she could feel every tremble and anxious twitch his brain was initiating.

Professor Xavier sighed to himself, rubbing his chin as he warily watched his mentee try to remain composed despite the ticking bomb that was Logan Howlett. The straining of Logan's muscles flexed beneath the bed of his skin. Eyes switching from here and there underneath his eye lids.

Even Jean, his quickly flourishing student was gritting her teeth in concentration. Her breaths escalating as her worry began to increase like her blood pressure. Glancing between the two, Xavier, pressed his forefinger to his temple and called in reinforcements.

He would need more restraints against Logan than he initially thought.

Swinging doors slammed against his head as doctors dressed in lab coats shoved him through to a new room. It smelled of straight bleach. Burning his nose hairs and causing his eyes to water more than they already were.

All too quickly, the scene clipped, jumping to another moment. From the transportable hospital bed to the startling, cold table top. Logan growled behind his mouth guard, his muscles spasming and convulsing. The scientist were calm when they observed him. At least, what he could tell by their mannerisms.

They meandered around with no real purpose pushing them faster. When they gathered closer, working over his chest and arms, he couldn't see their faces. All of which were clean swiped off. Frighteningly, they had no nose, eyes or lips -- no defining features, just fuzzy slates desperately trying to force their way into focus.

Logan jumped, his spine curling before it banged against the lounger in which he was laid upon. Jean startled momentarily too, her breathing catching at witnessing the same scene he was. Her stomach turned in repulsion. The bright red strands of hair sticking to her forehead as fear induced perspirations sprouted.

His limbs were stretched away from his naked body. Forced open with forceps so his skin wouldn't heal closed when they were working on a certain area. The skin was peeled back. Muscles repositioned like slabs of bloodied meat so they could get straight to the bone.

Logan could practically feel every incision that was made. From the slicing of important nerve endings, down passed the tendons till they struck gold. He choked on his screams. Sweat sat sloppily on his body, caked with dried blood and any other fluids that uncontrollably excreted from his body.

They were moving him and suddenly the scene dissipated once more.

"Professor..." Jean bristled as Logan convulsed, his claws sliding out from the lesions in his skin. His lips blew out moist puffs of air, like he was choking.

Suddenly, the room was occupied with the X-team. Scott rushed in, followed by Storm and Hank. Cyclops moved behind Jean, rubbing her shoulders in comfort as he stared uneasily and suspiciously at the Wolverine. Hank came prepared, carrying a bright blue sedative.

He leaned over Logan and prepared the needle. Posed over his trembling forearm, the needle barely touched his skin before Ximena rushed in.

Her hair was all in disarray, as if she was just out for a run. The Athletic leisure she wore, head to toe in black was another give away. Her chest heaved as her eyes danced over Logan's bonded and tormented stretched over the lounge. She eagerly reached for breath, sweat trickling from her hair line.

"What the hell is going on?" Of course, she didn't need an answer, Professor had filled her in. She was besides herself, but nevertheless, shook away the concerned look from Hank. "No matter how strong you made that dosage of dopamine, his body will burn it off before it could do its job."

"What other course of action do we have?" Storm asked, genuinely curious though her tense posture and harsh tone suggested otherwise.

Ximena felt her eye twitch, a debate battling within her. Swallowing deeply, she felt her throat get caught on the words. "Let-Let me in there..."

The words didn't have much strength or confidence. Like saying it was a decision made against her will. She was pained but not only that, she was panicked. When Logan shouted obscenely, she felt her dissolution resolve.

Turning to Professor Xavier with urgency, she placed a strong hand on his shoulder and proclaimed with more moxie, "Put me in there. I can help." 

His chest overexerted itself by expanding past regularity, thrusting air back into his lungs as his sputters expelled it out. A breathing tube was positioned in his mouth. Needles were posed at the ready down the length of his body as it was suspended above an electrifying water chamber. 

"Generals, welcome. Today, we're going to witness medical history. Today we are going to create, weapon X..."

That voice, he could recall that voice. It triggered a sensory part of him and his ears buzzed over. His head trembling in sensation overload.

Charles stared at her for a good moment before nodding surely. "Give Ximena some room."

Shuffling out of the way, Ximena shook her hands to ready herself. She was completely unprepared for this moment. Wasn't even thinking of Logan much as she ran to clear her thoughts. But now, all her focus was on him and his sanity. This was by far, the riskiest form of her mutation. Last time she settled someone's nightmarish memories, it took a drastic turn for the worst.

Since then, she told herself she wouldn't do it again.

However, seeing Logan in such deep anguish. His brain spasming into an aneurism before it regenerated itself back together again was her very own torture. By now, Jean had let go of his head. All flashes and images were his own, trapping him in a state of post traumatic stress.

Standing above him, her fingers outstretched, twitched -- and then glowed a brilliant, golden orange. Sucking in a breath, she touched his slick head and allowed herself to slip into his disastrous-jog-down-memory-lane gone rogue.

Ximena appeared in an extensively long, bright white hallway and she re-familiarized herself with the light, ghost feeling of intruding into someone else's dreams.

She wore the same clothes, physically appeared the same. It was just incredibly trippy, like Alice in the Wonderland slipping down the rabbit hole, psychotic. Narrowing her brown eyes in determination, she started down the hall.

Fluorescent lights passed her overhead, yet she had no shadow. The white tiles lengthening so she had to skip, hopping to every piece of ground before it disappeared entirely. Much like a video game, she was rushing against the clock.

Her hair slapped against her face as she sprinted towards the double, swinging doors into the laboratory. Her fingers brushed the metallic material before she suddenly fell through, time somehow speeding up her movements abruptly.

Ximena skidded to a stop before she landed on the hard ground, glancing up to see she was in a elaborate, under ground lab. Standing on bridged railing, she could see where they had wheeled Logan to. Running down the metal stairs into the main area of the lab was surreal. Doctors and scientists without faces pushed into her as they passed, causing her to become briefly disoriented. 

This was the stuff of horror movies. The presence of dark red blood and medical scalpels. Torn samples of Logan's flesh laying haphazardly on table tops, labeled from the top right thigh to the back of his ear. She absolutely hated it, felt her physical form's tears sliding down her face. It was a ghostly sensation, but one she knew was happening steadily as she witnessed such monstrosities.

"Logan... Logan," She chanted, seeking out his strapped down body somewhere in the room. However, she couldn't spot his grotesque form anywhere.

"We're about to begin bonding Adamantium to weapon X's skeleton," A faceless voice echoed above her. Ximena's eyes widened before she finally set her eyes on Logan.

Her heart clenched at the sight as she worked her legs faster to get to him. "Let's begin." The General commanded and a sense of dread filled her to the brim. Logan, who was probably very much different from the first time he experienced this experimentation was freaking out from having to go through it a second time.

He was lowered down into the tank at a faster, dream-like pace. His entire frame being submerged before Ximena could blink. Without a second thought, she ran towards the tank and dove into the frigid water.

The tank deepened when she was under, stretching much like the hallway did. She held her breath, pursing her lips as she squinted to see into the deep abyss. Her limbs moved lethargically and her frustration grew as it slowed her down.

In agitation, she pressed harder, dove deeper. The weight on her lungs grew by the second. She could feel her physical body on the precipice of choking, retching up water that she never inhaled within her reality. A twinkle of metal caught her eye in midst of the darkness and with a new source to base her motivation, she kicked harder.

"Ximena," Storm worried aloud, seeing water with no real source dribbling from her friend's lips. "Someone get towels! Hurry!" Rushing to her side, Ororo moved Mena's sweat coated hair out of the way, coaching herself that Ximena would be okay. She knew what she was doing...

Her fingers reached out to fiddle with the drifting edge of Logan's dog tags, her world-grounding lifeline. With a harsh tug, she laid blurry eyes on his body and secured his limp form in her arm. The man was outrageously heavy as she hooked her thumbs under his arms and swam upward.

The journey up was far longer than the journey down. Her subconscious was waning and she could feel herself drifting in and out of the consciousness. Such a thing would be a problem, she could die in Logan's dream. Her dream-hazed breath control and muscle strength had never been more imperative than it did right now.

Only when she finally breached the top, did her gasp sound so desperately loud. Distrubingly necessary. Her lungs were on fire, but she could only imagine how Logan was feeling.

She lugged his body towards the edge of the tank and pushed him over before she climbed out. Ximena's knees hit the concrete flooring with a smack. Her clothes were sopping wet, squishing against her trembling cold body as she positioned herself over him.

"Alright, Logan. Time to get up, wake up," She pleaded, mostly speaking to herself.

Ximena never thought she would be doing CPR on a dream version of a guy she had a minor crush on, but here she was. Parting his lips, practically pounding on his chest, securing her mouth over his as she forced fed him air.

"C'mon Tinman! Get the fuck up!"

She slammed her fist against his ribcage, causing his back to curl before he wretched a mixture of blood and water all over himself. Ximena squeezed her eyes closed in relief, water dotted all over her supple skin. Laying her forehead onto his sputtering chest, she finally wheezed her awakening breath.

Then, she woke them up.

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Unedited. 6/5/21

This chapter was intense, but that's how I like them. Can't keep you too comfortable now can I? lmao

Let me know what you thought of this chapter, it was a lot of work. I hope I accomplished the tone and explained another part of Ximena's abilities in this! Xx