“No,” she whimpered as she trashed weakly in her bed. “No, please...” Her begging went on in vain, useless words floating into the darkness of her room. Her eyelids danced wildly against the images playing on them, images no matter how much the others tried; only she could see.
“Logan,” a voice deep inside her cried out loud. “Stop hurting him.... Please just stop it!”
“Logan!!” She shrieked as she launched straight up in her bed. Finally freed from the nightmare she took deep breathes, trying to convince her heart to still before it came clean out of her chest. The pool of sweat that dripped along the side of her plastered her hair onto her face, assuring that the bold white streak was always firmly within her view.
She folded her self in half, curling on top of the sheets. Her hands came together, clutching each other desperately over her chest, the battered metal tag hanging from one wrist threatening to come between them.
The horrid images only invaded her sleep when she wore the tags. Logan being pummeled to death in a steel cage fight, Logan being experimented on, awake and cut to pieces at the lap, Logan being riddled with gunfire, Magneto twisting him and— She folded together tighter, every image was just as bad and gruesome as the next. All Logan, all of him dying and her being too far away to even know about it. They had to have been stored in the tags, its corrupt memories twisting with her own fears. But she couldn’t bring herself to take them off. He gave them to her and she’d take them off. When he came back for them. She could handle it until then.
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