Fire Versus Ice

Bobby had always known in his heart it would come to this. A final show down between he and his best friend. He had denied it, tried to avoid it, but now there was no other way around it. He had to do it.

From the moment the X-jet had landed, and the X-men had jumped to the ground, Bobby had known that this was it. That today would be the day. When he had seen Pyro standing there with Magneto, a hard look to his face that belied his nineteen years, Bobby had known that, in the final outcome, only one of them would survive. Only one would walk away.

In all the Danger Room sessions the Professor had made them do, Johnny had always come out on top. Always victorious. Never once had Bobby come anywhere close to beating his one-time best friend. But then, he had always come closer to winning than any of the other students, who were usually wiped out in the first ten minutes. Johnny was just too skilled. He knew to much about stealth, and offensive action, and just enough about his opponent's power to learn how to defeat it, or keep out of it's way, even with the few telepaths. He knew more about his powers and limits (which he claimed were none) than any other student. He was one of the few who Xavier had brought to the school to teach control of his gift, instead of how to use it. Because Johnny always wanted to go that extra step. That extra burst of flame.

As a result? Pyro always won.

Now, out here in the real world, Bobby realized that there was no 'Stop Program' key word that would end everything. No holographic images showing where he supposedly was hurt. No computerized data telling him that he was supposedly in pain. No opening his eyes to find it was all just a test, and seeing Johnny offer him a hand, as well as a cocky grin. This was real. Johnny was gone, and in his place was Pyro, fully ready to unleash his power on the world.

So when Magneto had picked up the cars, and Pyro had lite them on fire, Bobby knew it was time. He didn't need Wolverine's added taunt of, "Can you take out your old bud?".

Swallowing, Bobby had scrambled his way out from underneath the heavy fire, and into the open. He stood there, waiting for Johnny to accept his challenge.

He wasn't disappointed. A few seconds later, there he was.

He looked a little different. A little older, a little wiser... maybe a little sadder. But even with that, he progressed towards Bobby steadily, never faltering, never hurrying. He came fifteen feet from his former room mate, then hurled twin pillars of fire towards him.

Bobby instinctively tried building an ice barrier around himself. But, as had happened before in the Danger Room, it melted away in seconds. So he tried the direct approach. Trying to push Pyro's fire back with his ice. And, like the Danger Room, he was failing miserably.

Pyro kept advancing closer, pushing harder and harder, until he was nearly on top of Bobby.

All this time, neither of them had said a word. But as Bobby dropped to his knees, he heard Pyro speak.

"Same old Bobby," He said, sending an extra surge of heat through the flame. "Maybe you should go back to the school."

Something in his voice made Bobby look up. In his friend's eyes, he didn't see the mocking, sarcastic look he had expected. Instead, he seen pain, and longing.

Just kill me! Those brown eyes screamed. Just get it over with! Don't make me do this, Bobby!

Bobby almost recoiled, but the fire stopped him. He blinked, confused, as he tried to make sense of what he just saw. Finally, it hit him harder than Johnny ever had in the Danger Room.

John had come here, expecting this fight, same as Bobby had. Waiting for it. Wanting it. But not for the fight itself. For the peace it would bring.

John wanted Bobby to kill him. To end his pain. To stop the thoughts that he himself couldn't stop, the constant second guessing of every decision he made. To end the turmoil in his soul that never ceased.

"Johnny, don't make me do this!" Bobby yelled, putting every muscle he had into making ice.

"Come on, Snow-boy! Do it! You know you can!" This time the voice was mocking, aggravating, trying to get him angry. "Stop being chicken shit, and do it!"

Bobby understood. John was trying to make him angry enough to actually win. "John, no! Please, don't make me do this!" He begged.

John only grinned a grin that never reached his eyes, and pushed forward even harder. He was practically standing on Bobby now, his fire melting the pitiful attempts Bobby was making at pushing him back.

It seemed time stopped, as Bobby suddenly realized that Johnny would only accept one outcome. He was pushing hard enough to hurt, but not quite enough to kill. He was sending just a little bit more than he knew Bobby could take. Enough to make Bobby have to fight back. But not enough to defend himself.

"Come on!" John roared again.

As the cold realization of what he was going to do filled his mind, ice filled his heart and soul. Less than a second later, he realized he was changing.

John realized it too. He smiled, and added more fire, as Bobby's physical form changed. Instead of skin, he became coated in a thick layer of ice.

He started pushing Pyro back, killing off the flames that couldn't reach him, until he stood toe-to-toe with the other boy.

John smiled as he put everything he had into his final flame.

This was it. Now, Bobby had no choice. His only option now was to kill. This was finally it. The final peace.

Bobby screamed as he grabbed his friend's wrists, and froze them solid, freezing the fire-starter in Pyro's gloves.

Pyro smiled again, his eyes warmed, and for the life of him, Bobby couldn't see anything but the fun-loving teenager he had roomed with, and gotten numerous detentions with. Johnny boy. The guy who had been his advisor on all matters of life, his roommate of two years, and the boy always right beside him pulling stupid stunts.

"Thank you," Johnny whispered.

Then Bobby hit him as hard as he could with a block of ice, still screaming, and sobbing. He grabbed his friend's limp form, and slowly fell with him to the ground, cradling his head in his lap, tears pouring down his face.

Everyone on the island, Brotherhood or X-man, mutant or human, stopped as they heard the inhuman scream of rage and pain that somehow seemed louder than the fighting. The scream that seemed to pierce the heart and soul of everyone, no matter how battle-hardened, or uncaring.

Wolverine, caught halfway in-between healing, could hear the berserker anger that had long since consumed his own soul, and, in the deepest corner of his heart, heard an echoing of his own demon, longing to get out.

Storm, manipulating several small tornados, heard the pained scream, and thought of her own loss, of Professor Xavier, Scott, and Jean, and her soul offered up a silent plea to whatever deity was listening to end the pain that seemed to consume the world.

Shadowcat, fighting her way out of the building with the boy known as 'Leech', heard it, and felt a stabbing pain in her own heart, wanting to help Bobby, yet trapped in her own grief.

Beast, who was trapped under a pile of bodies, froze at the animal like sound, the quote, 'those who say it's better who have loved and lost than not love at all, were clearly never in love' flashing through his mind.

Magneto, who had been Xavier's best friend, and somewhat responsible for his death, couldn't help but be reminded of all the times he and Charles had spent, and feel the pain those memories brought.

Bobby wasn't even aware of his surroundings anymore, or the ice that was slowly melting off his body, returning to his skin. The only thing he could see was his best friend, blood pouring from the cut on his head, his life slowly draining out of him.

This is what he wanted.

Bobby had always secretly hoped that someday, maybe, Johnny would come back to the X-men, and things would return to normal. But now he knew, that even if John survived, and he did come back to the mansion, things wouldn't ever be the same. Because he couldn't just blindly accept Xavier's teachings. Yet neither could he accept Magneto's.

He's finally happy now. You did the right thing.

"NO!" Bobby screamed at the top of his lungs. No. He wasn't going to just accept things.

He quickly unzipped his uniform, tore apart the shirt he was wearing underneath, and wrapped it around John's head. Then he started dragging him towards the bridge. He didn't care about the fight anymore. It wasn't his problem. He had never signed up for the war, for the 'mutant peace corps'. He couldn't save the world.

But he might be able to save his best friend. And right now, that was enough. That was all he needed.

As he tried to hurry towards the bridge, he seen Magneto fall, due to the dart that had all been part of Wolverine's plan. He seen Jean go crazy, and start to disintegrate everything, almost as if she were trying to tear apart the world itself. He seen Kitty running beside him, dragging a small boy. He seen Angel flying with his father up above. He seen Storm and Beast urging everyone off the island. He seen Wolverine kill Jean. But none of it really registered. None of it really mattered. All that mattered was getting Johnny off that bridge, and somewhere safe. Away from the war, that was never his to start with. Away from people who thought of him and Johnny as nothing more than pawns. Away from the world that they had been violently thrown into upon hitting puberty, something they had never asked for, or wanted, yet something they had to do all the same. Away from life-changing decisions that could tear friendships apart, and make them violent enemies. Away from people who forced teenagers to 'choose a side' in a war they had wanted no part of to start with. Away from choices that left a young man- no more than a boy, really- with death as an only escape from a life he never wanted a part of in the first place.

Xavier had spoken comforting words about 'duty', 'honor', and 'justice'. Why Magneto was wrong, and why the X-men had to stop him and his 'Brotherhood'. But in the end, Xavier was just another man, with another goal that he wanted others to help with in another cause, to yet another end. Same as every 'great leader'. Maybe one cause was better than another for certain reasons. Did it mean that people had to die to prove it? Innocent people?

Away.

From everything.

And everyone.