AU ~ a flashback dedicated to what she was subjected to Pre-Logan movie. This will be re-edited and moved to that segment after its initial release, but for now, it will serve as a flashback.
Warnings - Gore, mentions of unconsented hysterectomy, thoughts of self-harm, mental breakdowns.
Out of everything wrong with the world... everything wrong with how us mutants were treated, it seemed it could always get worse. Heavy bags lined my undereyes, leaving their mark in dark splotches paired with red corneas. The heavy, rusted collar weighed down my neck and shoulders, leaving me slouched on the cot, hands clasped in my lap with nails clipped down short, still a bit sharp in places. Shaky irises raked over my skin. It felt foreign, but there had been countless pricks and cuts, samples cut from my own skin and stitched back together raw, with hair inconsistently chopped in messy segments.
"She's done for the day. Any more and she'll pass out, and we need her functioning to study her."
A male doctor hummed, looking at his clipboard, studying my charted vitals before looking back at me as if I was nothing.
Pierce tapped his chin in understanding. "Is there really nothing more that we can do?" he turned to the man.
"Look, you asked us to make a clone — what you don't understand is how hard that is to do without the male genes. And she was sterilized by Stryker, so even if we had the technology to push forward, we don't have the proper controls."
"The twin is failing," he huffed. "What is it that's so hard to do here?"
"The brother just hasn't caught yet. Each one that has hasn't carried over the X-gene, causing us to restart and look for new samples on the subject."
Subject. What was I, some cow to be farmed and scoured? Only good for meat, milk, and leather.
"It isn't my fault she couldn't be properly controlled in the first place."
Pierce sighed deeply, smoothing out the crease between his brows. Arguing wasn't going to get them anywhere.
"Alright, alright. When can we resume the process?"
The doctor's eyes wearily traveled over my meek figure once more. "A couple of weeks. It might be a good idea to take the collar off — boost her serotonin."
Pierce makes a 'tch' sound. "Yeah, and have her make us kill each other."
"You want good results? Well, then listen to what I have to say."
They rang for an assistant nurse before clearing the room. She was new — new to me, at least. A fearful look in her eye, with a compassionate smile.
"We'll be moving you along now."
I'm barely able to bob my head in response, and I lay back down on the table.
The gurney wheels down the hallway, a few faces passing by in a blur, but I don't bother to look. I just stare at the vacant ceiling, fluorescents catching my gaze every so often.
The woman helps me up off the bed, carefully removing the IV and leaving a bandage in its place before guiding me back into my padded room.
They left it dark for me, illuminated by a soft, warm light. That was different — usually, it was stark and bright or completely off.
"We'll check in in a bit," she murmured, closing the door behind her with a thud.
The rubber grips on my socks occasionally caught on the floor as I shuffled in. A beeping sound near my ear caught my attention, paired with unlatching gears and the small red light changing to green.
I didn't think they'd actually do it, and my chapped lips parted as I hesitantly reached up with shaky hands, removing the metal chunk off my neck. It fell to the floor with an unenthusiastic thud.
A gasp tore through my lungs, and I clutched my arms tight, hugging myself harshly as my breath caught and my eyes clamped shut. The presence of the 'hospital' rushed to greet me — a roaring cacophony of mixed emotions. It was as if someone pumped the life back into my lungs. Angry tears sprouted from my eyes and I heaved, nails digging into my skin as ragged breaths escaped me.
I struggled to get down to the floor, too busy losing myself. My stiff fingers reached out, groping the floor in hope of finding something to grip that wasn't the stupid device. Internally, I knew there was nothing, but I still craved something. Instead, my hands traveled upward and brushed through my hair in some attempted comfort as cries ripped through me, leaving me in rambles and dripping snot.
If I was given the opportunity, I would claw my own chest open, letting the flesh tear and ooze with blood, so I could emerge from the broken shell I am now — leaving the corpse to rot behind me, along with the youth it carried.
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Fervent Feelings
FanfictionY/n Summers, the adopted sibling of Alex and Scott Summers, navigates life as an empath within the X-Men universe. After being abandoned by their biological parents at a young age, Y/n was taken in by the Summers family after discovering her mutant...
