I just can't let go of this series yet...

I know you can hear my thoughts, John! Let me explain!
He stopped with his hands on his knees, shivering, his heart beating so fast it hurt, blood hammering violently through his body. His palms were sweaty with fear and exertion.
Just one second.
John, we will find you! The sooner you stop this, the sooner you will be forgiven. We can mend this. I promise, son.
The boy stumbled forward through the streets, heading for the darkest area of the district. They could see it whenever he was teleporting, and they had more cameras than the city government knew, but there were places even they could not see – and John knew them. He'd been sitting on the other side of the cameras long enough.
John! You will stop this ridiculous game right now! Don't force me to see you as a traitor. You know what we can do. Don't think I will hesitate to neutralize you.
John clenched his fists but didn't stop running. He knew that, too. He'd been on the other end of the syringes as well.
On the other end of the guns.

His breaths were so loud he could barely hear the voices in his head, left alone footsteps approaching. Just around the next corner. And the next. John kept his eyes on the floor as he ran, not knowing and not caring about where he was going. Didn't matter. The less he knew, the less Ultra would find in his mind if they somehow managed to steal into it. John was good at building walls inside himself, but who knew? After all, it had been them training him to build them. Training him to run long distances with quiet pacing, to fight in the shadows, to foresee his enemy's next step.
Jedikiah was probably right. He would not make it out of the city alive.
Didn't matter.


two days before

"John! What's up? You… oh no." The tired joy in Roger's eyes was replaced by wonder, then anger. "I can't believe he made you do this." Roger shook his head. "You know you don't have to do this, John. This is not right."
"I have to." John barely recognized himself. His words were those of Ultra's best agent, Jedikiah's most loyal soldier… had he ever been more to the man? John's voice, however, belonged to the scared, lonely boy he had once been.
The scared, lonely boy he had become once again.

"No, John." Slowly, Roger held up his hands, palms outward. "Think. Think of what you are about to do, and tell me if it's really what is right." He made a step towards the young man, ignoring the weapon directed at his chest. "Think if…"
"Stop." Anger fired through John, causing his hands to shake. He forced himself to aim steadily. "Stop talking." He'd been lectured enough. And one of the first things he'd learnt was that his thoughts didn't matter. His worth lay in his skills, in the way he was planning and executing his actions. Not in whatever Roger was trying to see in him. That part was dead, if it had ever existed.
This was the moment. He had never been more powerful – and at the same moment, he had never been closer to lose control over himself.

They must have threatened Jedikiah to kill you.
John sneered. "Are these your last words?"
Think, John! He would never ask this of you if he had a choice! He knows you don't want this. He knows you will hate him for it. And you know, John, you know he cares about that. About you.
The boy swallowed. What I know is that I'm the only one who can kill you. That's the reason it's me.
Roger sighed. I understand that you're angry, John, but you have to listen to me.
"I'm done listening!", John yelled, but as he tried to pull the trigger he noticed that his hand was shaking.

He had listened, thought and obeyed all his life; and it had earned him nothing.
There surely was something like love and easygoing happiness in this world – John had seen it once, when Roger had invited him and Jedikiah to come over for Thanksgiving, the year that ULTRA had found him. It had been wonderful, and surreal, and it had made him ache so much he had fled into the bathroom when Marla had served the turkey.
He didn't belong in such a world. He belonged to Jedikiah's world. A dark and cold but understandable world, formed by rules and pain – every action had consequences. Move and countermove. It would never end.

John. There was edge of fear to Roger's inner voice now, please
John put the gun down. Run.
Roger smiled. "Thank you, John. We have to…"
"Just run!" John shivered. Take your family and run.
We will. Jedikiah will – Suddenly Roger's eyes widened. With a surge of pride John realized that he was by far the better strategist. Roger was an idealist, he always believed in the best – of life, of people. John had stopped believing when he had started knowing. Knowing that life was unfair and that people manipulated and threatened others. Those who didn't… well. They seemed to end up dead.
"It's okay." For the first time that night John felt peaceful. "I will deal with Jedikiah. With ULTRA."
"They will kill you!" Roger shook his head. "I forgot that…"
"It's okay, Roger." There's not much to this life anyway.
"Shoot me." Roger nodded towards the gun and opened his arms. "I will not let you suffer for my own sake."
"I will not kill you." John smiled. "It's not right."
"You or Jedikiah dying isn't right either", Roger said. "Do it, John. I'm stronger than I seem, don't worry about me. Kill me. Take care of my family. Make sure they're safe from everything here."
"I won't kill you."
"Do it, or more people are going to die!"
"Fine for me." What did he care right now for himself, or Jedikiah, or any new mutants about to be trained? Most of them would die anyway.
"But not for me." Roger shook his head, and suddenly John's hand with the gun moved upwards, driven by a force he could not resist. Roger.
"Don't. Please, don't make me do it!" John had cried the same words hours before, when Jedikiah had given him the order. A moment of weakness, he had thought. Now – he didn't know what he should think.
Neither of the brothers listened to him.

"You have to take care of our people. They need you."
Nobody needs me.
Yes they do, John. And Jedikiah does, too.
John laughed joylessly. I don't care what he needs.
Again his hand was driven upwards, his finger curled around the trigger. "Please."
"I'm sorry, John." Roger smiled. "Don't take this too hard. There is a way…" he stopped midsentence. "Trust me. Take care of our people." A final smile, then John's finger pulled the trigger.