Title: Fake It
Fandom: X:Men movieverse
Characters: John Allerdyce(Pyro), Bobby Drake(Iceman)
Rating: G
Summary/A/N:

(title from Seether's song of the same name, but it don't actually got anything to do with the story)

was listening to Family Portrait by Pink, which sorta inspired this...

in X2: X-Men United, Logan, Rogue, Bobby, and John escape Stryker's men and head to Bobby's house... there's this scene where John sees a portrait of Bobby, his mum, dad, and brother... But, as the lyrics state, it's easy to pretend in a photo. What if that's all it is and Bobby's family isn't as perfect and normal as they seem in the picture?

First part is John looking at the photo, the rest is just a couple made up bits about Bobby's past...

oh and fair warning, my first XMen fic, but i've been reading a lot so i dunno how this works out...

--

in our family portrait
we look pretty happy
we look pretty normal

John stared at the photo, half expecting it to burst into flames even though his lighter was now shoved deep in the pockets of his pants, not forgotten but temporarily out of use. Bobby had told him not to burn anything, after all, and St. John had actually done what he had been told to do. But this picture seemed perfect, too perfect, even, with the nice clothes and the smiles that seemed too forced. It was Bobby's family, though, so seeming too perfect was probably just another trait they'd been born with. He continued staring for a moment longer, though, silently wishing that his family had had some of those traits. Not too perfect, no, he would hate if his mum and dad had been that happy, but being normal, even just a little bit happy – glad that their son actually existed – would have suited St. John just fine. Maybe then he would still be St. John, instead of just a John slowly turning into Pyro.

Fighting mixed emotions of anger, hate, and jealously, he just barely left the picture intact and free of burning embers.

--

"Robert Drake!" Words yelled in anger, directed at her oldest son as she glared down angrily at the ten year old. Disgust and hate were plainly evident in her eyes and Bobby quickly averted his gaze, instead focusing his attention on the white rug below.

"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled, not daring to yell back. Maybe if he wasn't so scared – fucking terrified was more like it, but if he were to swear and his father found out... -- he would have yelled back, but he knew that it was best if he just kept quiet and calm.

"Sorry can't fix it. Just go up to your room, now. We'll deal with this when your father gets home."

Bobby looked up at his mother in surprise, because she would usually just ground him. His father would yell, yell a lot, and then give out the punishment. If his mother was going to wait until his father was there, then he really was in trouble.

But he hadn't even done anything, just gotten a C on that stupid math test...

--

"Hey Bobby," Pyro spoke up casually, staring at the ice mutant's back, daring him to turn and reply. He doubted he would, but there was no harm in annoying the older boy. "Aw c'mon, Iceman." The last word enunciated purposely, because Bobby didn't really like the stupid name, but it did suit him and once it had gotten around the school, it had been stuck. But did John really have to use it just to annoy him?

"What?" Bobby replied angrily, not bothering to turn around and face the other teenager. He knew that that was what John wanted, to annoy him until he just snapped. He was nearly there.

"What'd ya get on the math test yesterday?"

Bobby's face fell, the pain in his eyes not seen by John. The silence, though, and slight drop in temperature, were enough to tell John that something was a little off with Bobby Drake.

"Doesn't matter," Bobby finally replied, trying to hide the disappointment in his tone.

"It's just a stupid mark," John argued. "C'mon. I wanna know if I did better or not."

"Why?" Bobby stood up quickly and turned to face John, stepping towards the younger mutant slowly. "Need to know how much of a failure I am? See how much better you are just because you get what X times Y equals?"

John stepped back in defense, hand reaching into his pocket for the lighter he'd left on his dresser. "W-what?" He hadn't meant to stutter on the first w, but Bobby's outburst had been a bit... off.

"Nothing," Bobby mumbled, going back to normal. Or what normal was for him. He flashed John a cheesy smile before speaking without any of the previous anger, "I kinda failed. Got a 32. I really suck at math, man."

John thought the smile looked fake, but then again, Bobby always smiled. Was always happy. Every smile just seemed like that because they were on the guy's face every other minute.

"Yeah? You okay with that?"

John thought he saw something like hate or pain flash through his friend's eyes but it was gone quickly. "Course I am," he replied casually – fake, it really was all just fake, but john never saw that. "Why wouldn't I be? I mean, it's just a stupid test."

"Ah, but you're Bobby Drake," John stated simply. "You always get perfect on everything. I'm surprised you didn't run to Summers crying for a retake test."

Bobby laughed – all fake, always was – and John laughed too.

They never talked about the failing grade after that, although John was slightly worried after Bobby came back looking pissed off – and hurt? sad? -- after a phone call to his parents. Maybe they weren't so used to their little Robert Drake failing something?

One angered glare though, and John knew not to ask about it. It was just a stupid test, after all. If only he knew that that wasn't the only 'stupid test' or failure for Bobby, and that his parents were a bit more sensitive about having a son who failed on occasion.