My Imaginary Friends
by
Sare Liz
Disclaimer: God Bless Stan Lee.
Boys. If I'm gonna absorb anybody, let it be a boy. They're different enough that they're easy to sort out, no matter what kind of personality they have or how long they stay. I don't even want to talk about absorbing women. Charles and I have only recently finished sorting out the swiss cheese that was my mind. But I don't mind so much, absorbing the boys.
David faded over time. It had taken four or five months from that first kiss, but I only really feel him now if something pointedly brings him back. The cologne always seems to do it though. Every now and then when I'm outside the compound shopping or on some errand for Charles, I'd smell someone with that very same cologne on, and I'd be right back there in Meridian.
But then, maybe that was just a memory of mine. It hurts though, either way. It always hurt thinking about those times.
Erik took three years to fade, but it was almost nice, not that anyone but Charles knew I felt that way. You see, it was like having your father figure in your head. That night when he tried to kill me. . . It seems kind of like a distant memory in that respect, like a dream, but maybe that was on purpose. After all, how do you live with someone in your head for three very long years and hate them without going insane?
You change, of course. Even after you figure out which voices belong to which personality, even after everything comes down from the chaos and settles into something vaguely resembling order, you still change. Mainly because they affect you. Everything you see filters through their eyes and then comes right back down to you, and whether you like it or not, it's constant bombardment. Like I said before, the choice is change or go insane, but staying the same isn't an option.
It can be good, though. You know things you didn't know before. Languages, philosophy, history first hand. It's not like the information hits you all at once, either. But things come up in class, you see words in different languages, people make references to things. . . And you just know what they're talking about. And when you pause to think, 'when did I learn German?', and you think back to the Meridian days and you can't come up with a good answer, then you start listening to the other voices in your head.
The ones that are responding to your question in German. And even though the German is gone now, all the memories I'd unearthed thus far remain. It's rather an incomplete education, as learning goes.
Strange, to have a mentor who helps you, guides you, gives you very good advice to get through all of life's rough spots, and even becomes a close friend - strange that that relationship doesn't really exist. I mean, if I saw Erik on the street (not that I would, but if I did) I'd be hard pressed to remember that he's the team's worst enemy Magneto, and that all that I remember is what might have been, had things been very different. The Erik I know is a figment of my imagination.
Is it strange to admit that none of my best friends really exist?
Well, that's not what Charles says. If it exists for Marie, it exists. It just doesn't exist for Erik.
Or Logan, for that matter.
Logan, who after four years hasn't packed his bag and moved out of the mental space. Logan, who for reasons known only to him, Charles, and their Creator, has finally come back.
Now, you have to understand that it was an easy thing to have Erik as my mentor because he was not around. Charles, after that initial bit of me not knowing who's who inside, was really great about the fact that I had one of his oldest friends in my head. He still beats me at chess though. I hope he beats Erik when he visits, too. But that's not the point.
If I saw Erik on the street, I'd be hard pressed, but I could do it. I could recognize the fact that the man I know so well isn't the man before me.
I've met Logan on the streets, and in the halls, and every possible place I could figure to hide before Charles seriously altered my daily schedule to include him. And I'm having real problems.
I know when he left we had a brother-sister/ father-daughter thing going on. And I had a crush. Which might have disappeared if he'd really left, but just as I've never taken his damn dog tag off, he's never gotten out of my godforsaken mind.
When he was gone, it was okay. Besides all of the shit he knows, and heavens that man has been around for a while, he is highly amusing. Probably no one would agree with me but Charles, considering that he's the only one who can witness these conversations I have in my head, but it's true. Of course, there's the anger as well, and that was much worse the first year, but I think I've toned him down a bit since then. Or maybe he's just made me a little bit crazier, that's what Jeanie says.
Either way, he's my best friend. And that little crush I had on him. . . It ain't a crush no more. I'm completely and utterly head over heels in love, and I've been waiting for him to come back and dreading the day he fades away all at once. I didn't think that was pathetic at all, until he finally came back.
In theory, I know that it's one way. They are in my head. I am not in theirs. Such is the essence of my mutation. I never really thought about it with Logan, though. You think I would, considering my thoughts about Erik, but no. Can you say, 'blinded by love'? Cause, I sure can.
It's like dealing with clones or something, but it's not as confusing as I thought it might be that first night.
It's damn spooky, first of all, to have him next to me talking, and in my head talking at the same time. It's kinda convenient though. All that crazy double speak that guys do, and in Logan's case, complete absence of words, that all gets conveniently translated by the Logan in my head who loves me and wants to see me get together with the real thing before he fades away.
You'd think maybe the one inside would be jealous or something, okay maybe you wouldn't, but that's just not the case. And it's not that Logan's never been jealous, cause when I first me the Cajun, he was off the charts.
Logan's sweet though. He doesn't want to tell me that I haven't got a snowball's chance in hell with his more physical half. So instead (after my brief period of hiding) he gives advice and love and support. Oh, it's not that the one outside isn't interested. He is, but neither one of us is sure how serious he is. You'd think I'd have the inside track on this sort of thing, but he's giving off weird signals, even considering that he is Logan. Lately the one inside has taken to telling me that he just don't know what the hell he wants. One day I'm the only woman in the world, the next my very presence is poison. It's frustrating, but it's my life. But then, it has only been a couple of weeks, and while he hasn't given me a time frame, I've gotten the distinct impression that he'll be here for a while.
So, I bide my time. And after all, I've been dealing with his moody self for the last four years, nonstop. I guess I can wait a little while for him to come around.
Okay, so maybe 'snowball's chance in hell' is a tad extreme. It's an off day and the one outside is ignoring me again. It's beginning to piss me off, and if he doesn't start acting his age instead of his shoe size he won't need the Danger Room, cause he's gonna have me.
And the Magic 8 Ball says that'd be a good idea.
That's what I call the one inside when I slip up and have to explain to the one outside. I can't very well say "Sure Logan, but you and I both know you're lyin' through your teeth. How do I know? You're still inside my head, stupid." So far I think it's worked. My imaginary friends aren't exactly common knowledge, surprise, surprise. You see, I don't really want to share Logan and Erik with Bobby and Jubes, so I don't really talk about them with anyone but Charles. I'm sure the rest of team wonders but no one but Ororo has ever asked. I know that neither one would tell Logan anything if he started idly wondering - they'd tell him to come to me, and he hasn't yet.
Eventually, I'll have to tell him. I don't look forward to it, but I do. Mainly because it will be hard as hell to tell him that I've been deep inside his head, in places I know he wouldn't want me, digging up memories he can't even find himself, and I really don't want to go there. But if I do, that means we've actually gotten somewhere in this weird cat and mouse game we seem to be playing the past month. It means that maybe I won't be so afraid to let him fade away inside.
Both me and the Magic 8 Ball like the sound of that.
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