Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, or Fox. Actors obviously belong to themselves.
A/N: I saw a video on YouTube called 'Unintended Love' by echelonslostangel, AKA Blu_Eyed Demon that inspired me to start this a year ago. Since then it's just been sitting on my USB (like most of my fics). I figured I might as well upload what could be counted as the first chapter.
This will most likely never be finished.
Another fight with Rogue.
Bobby sighed as he walked down the street, hands in his pockets. It was nearly eleven and curfew was at ten-thirty. Once upon a time, Bobby would probably have cared about making it in for curfew, but ever since Alcatraz, he had found himself concentrating less on his studies and following the rules.
Arguments between him and Marie had started around then, too. They were small things –trivial. Bobby never even knew what half of the fights were about.
Bobby closed his eyes for a moment as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't in the mood to think about what had happened. As he replaced his hand in his pocket, he heard a shout from an alleyway nearby.
Backtracking quickly, he peered into the dark alley to see three figures standing over something behind a dumpster. A pair of feet stuck out underneath them.
"Fucking mutie!" One of the teenagers spat.
At the words, Bobby's eyes immediately narrowed and he iced up his fists, removing them from his pockets.
The bullies all kicked their victim, hissing insults, and Bobby could hear soft grunts and whimpers of pain.
"Hey!" He yelled, standing in the mouth of the alley, "Leave him alone!"
And it was a 'he'. Bobby glanced at the victim –another teenager –slumped against the wall as he proceeded to beat the bullies away. Being a fully-trained X-Man, it was almost easy (almost, because it was three to one). By the time Bobby was watching the shivering teens hightail it down the street, he was only panting a little, but feeling extremely proud of himself.
He turned to the mutant he had just saved, and held out a hand. A pale hand grasped it, and Bobby pulled the other boy up to his feet. "You all right?" He asked with concern.
"Alright, thank you," Came the soft reply. There was a bit of an accent to the teen's voice, but Bobby couldn't place where it was from.
"I'm Bobby."
"Jean-Paul," The other replied. They shook their still connected hands.
"So, you're a mutant, huh?" Bobby asked.
"As are you." Jean-Paul said.
"Yeah, I know." Bobby smiled slightly; it was something he had a habit of doing when he met new people.
They stood there in front of the alley, an awkward silence of two strangers between them.
"So, do you need a lift home? I have a car parked nearby." Bobby said.
Jean-Paul shook his head, "I'm… sort of living on the streets, actually. That's why I'm dressed so horribly." He added with a tone of distaste –of someone who wasn't used to being homeless.
Bobby looked down at the clothes Jean-Paul was waving at. In the light of a street lamp nearby, he could see a faded pair of jeans, shoes that were falling apart, and a loose-hanging gray sweater covering Jean-Paul. "Oh. Wow. You should come back to my place, then." He suggested automatically.
"I don't even know you."
"Oh no, it's okay. It's not like I'll be the only one there; I live at a school. For mutants. And there's a doctor there, too, so he could probably check out that cut." Bobby said, pointing at a bloody gash on Jean-Paul's forehead.
Jean-Paul automatically raised a hand to his forehead, but Bobby grabbed his wrist, "Don't touch it," He said softly. "Come on."
He led them both down the street for a bit. Fishing a ring of keys out of his pocket, Bobby unlocked his car (one of Scott's old cars), which was parallel parked on the side of the road.
Then, moving around the front of the car, Bobby opened the passenger door for Jean-Paul.
As he drove back toward the mansion, Bobby snuck a few glances at his new companion. The other mutant was quite slim. He had peculiar, silver streaks through his black hair, and elegant, arched eyebrows.
"Your ears are pointed." Bobby said after a moment.
Jean-Paul looked down and put a hand over one as he scratched the side of his head, "Yes, well, they've always been like that…"
"They're cool." Bobby assured, "I think they make you look like Spock."
"Who?" Jean-Paul frowned.
"You know –Star Trek?" Bobby looked at him.
Jean-Paul shook his head and Bobby shrugged, "Never mind, then, I guess."
When they arrived at the mansion, the doors were locked.
Bobby laughed a little self-consciously, "It's past curfew." He explained, "But no worries. I have a key."
The front hall was empty when they snuck in.
"You hungry?" Bobby asked quietly.
"Oui –uh, yes," Jean-Paul whispered.
"Are you French?" Bobby said, appearing curiously delighted at the language slip-up.
"Canadian. French-Canadian." He corrected as he followed Bobby through the hall.
"What're you doing so far from home?" Bobby wondered, "Do you have a passport or something? How did you pass the border?"
"I… I flew."
"You can fly?" Bobby said, looking impressed.
Jean-Paul nodded.
"Aw man, that's so cool. I wish I could fly." Bobby said thoughtfully as they turned into the kitchen. He gestured for Jean-Paul to sit down at the counter, and he opened the refrigerator, peering inside. He looked up, "Want a soda?"
Jean-Paul nodded, and Bobby pulled off the bottle cap before sliding the drink across the countertop.
He closed the fridge and opened a cupboard above it, reaching in and removing a white first-aid kit. "Do you mind if I take a look at the cut first? Hank probably won't be able to see you 'til morning, but I'm trained in first aid, too. Hank's the doctor."
Jean-Paul nodded, taking a swig of his drink. He set it down and then turned to Bobby.
The latter leaned carefully over the counter, dabbing at Jean-Paul's gash with first a wet cloth and then an alcohol swab. Jean-Paul flinched as it stung his injury, and Bobby frowned, "Sorry… Just hang on for a moment."
When he finished bandaging, Bobby leaned back to observe his handiwork. "That should work for the night. I mean, you weren't bleeding too much. Probably only a minor concussion. I'm thinking really minor, but you never know. "
Jean-Paul sipped his soda, "So, what's the plan?"
"I'm going to try and convince the headmistress to let you stay. Maybe you could even join us –you could be an X-Man!"
Jean-Paul looked around, "So this is where the X-Men live? Perhaps all of the Xs should have made me realize it."
"Yep. Not quite the Baxter Building, I guess. But school is cool." Bobby shrugged, smiling.
Jean-Paul looked at Bobby and then shook his head, smiling a little.
"What?" Bobby demanded.
"Nothing… I'm just… You don't even know me. But you saved me from a bunch of thugs and brought me here. I suppose that's just how superheroes are, non?" Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow.
"Superhero?" Bobby repeated, blushing and looking down , "I don't know if that's…"
"Sure it is. You're an X-Man, aren't you?" Jean-Paul said, "X-Men are heroes. Plus, you beat off a bunch of bad guys from attacking me. Mon Dieu! I forgot to say something clichéd as I watched them run away." Bobby was already starting to laugh, but Jean-Paul continued, keeping a relatively serious expression. "Bobby –Is that short for Robert? Yes? Alright. Robert… uh…"
"Drake," Bobby supplied.
Jean-Paul nodded, "Robert Drake, my hero! You have saved my life! I am forever in your debt! Just tell me what to do!" He declared in a comically high-pitched voice.
Bobby slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.
Watching his new friend laughing, Jean-Paul couldn't help but break into a grin, too.
"Alright, tell me what you want to eat," Bobby said, still snorting with amusement.
The other mutant shrugged, "Anything's fine for me."
Bobby opened the fridge and looked around, "How about a sandwich for now?" He asked.
When Jean-Paul finished eating, Bobby dropped the plate in the sink gestured for Jean-Paul to follow him, "C'mon," He said, "I don't have a roomie, so you can use the extra bed tonight."
As they tip-toed up the stairs, Jean-Paul whispered: "Is this even allowed?"
"Eh…maybe. I mean, I'll get everyone to understand. In the morning, though." Bobby added; "I'm tired." He pulled Jean-Paul with him as he moved down the hall.
They arrived at his room at the end, and Bobby threw the door open, ushering Jean-Paul in first and then closing it behind them.
"Home sweet home," Bobby remarked, switching on the lights.
Jean-Paul took a good look around. Both sides of the room were taken up by personal possessions, but one of the sides looked untouched compared to the other. He looked at Bobby questioningly.
"You can take that bed," Bobby told Jean-Paul, pointing to the bed on the aforementioned side of the room. "Do you want to shower? You could take one in the morning, too. I'll get you extra clothes." Bobby continued, moving around the room with familiarity.
Jean-Paul sat down at the edge of his newly appointed sleeping location and looked around.
It was a few moments before Bobby turned back to him with a pile of clothes, a toothbrush and a towel.
"Thanks," Jean-Paul said quickly, accepting the items.
When he emerged from the bathroom an hour and a half later (God, cleaning up had never been so satisfying…), Bobby was sitting on his bed, reading something under his bedside lamp. He looked up as Jean-Paul walked somewhat awkwardly out of the bathroom with his dirty, old clothes balled up in his hands.
"Just dump those in the hamper. I'll wash it with my stuff tomorrow."
Jean-Paul did so and then sat down on his temporary bed, "What happened to your old roommate?" He asked.
Bobby frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I just thought… I mean, his things are still here." He replied.
"How do you know those aren't my things?"
"You read classics?" Jean-Paul asked incredulously, holding up a battered addition of 'Great Expectations', which he had pulled out from underneath his pillow.
"Not really," Bobby admitted, "My old roommate was kind of a writer, though. That's his."
Jean-Paul opened the book to check the name written inside, "John Allerdyce?" he read, looking up at Bobby, "What happened to him?"
"He's a criminal." Bobby shrugged.
"Oh." One of those mutants.
An awkward silence filled the air until Bobby closed his own book and set it onto his bedside table. He climbed under his covers and said, "Let's go to sleep, 'kay?"
Jean-Paul nodded and pulled back the covers of John Allerdyce's old bed before getting in. Bobby turned off his lamp and Jean-Paul got ready to do the same, "Bobby?"
"Hn?"
"Thank you."
"No problem, JP." Bobby replied.
Jean-Paul smiled and turned off his lamp.
G'night," Bobby said.
"Good night," He responded softly as he moved around to get comfortable.
The bed smelled oddly of smoke, and it seemed that by the time Jean-Paul finally fell asleep, he was being shaken awake.
"C'mon," Bobby was urging him. "The earlier the better,"
It took Jean-Paul a moment to figure out what he was talking about, but then he grumbled, "Unless I get kicked out. Then, it will be the later the better." He sat up sleepily anyway.
"Don't be like that! Ororo will understand. She's really nice."
"Ororo's the headmistress, isn't she?" Jean-Paul said.
"Yeah, now get dressed!"
…
They left the room nearly an hour later, but the hallways were still empty.
Jean-Paul figured the school must be sleeping in; it was Sunday. He proved corrected when a small group of nicely-dressed kids and teens walked by at the end of the hall, a man with blue skin and a swishy, pointed tail leading them.
"That's Kurt," Bobby said, noticing Jean-Paul watch the group disappear down the hall, "He's a teacher, but he takes kids to church every Sunday –y'know, those who want to go. I go when I'm not busy saving the world." Bobby snorted.
"You're not saving the world right now." Jean-Paul pointed out almost immediately.
"Well," Bobby grinned, "You're the world right now."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Sure it does –I'm saving you."
"What's worth saving about me?" Jean-Paul wondered.
"Your ears, man." Bobby replied with a mischievous look, "We have to save those ears, and since I'm not psycho or anything, we're saving the rest of you, too."
The French-Canadian made a noise of incredulity. "What, the face isn't worth saving?" He said.
Bobby stopped mid-step and paused to look at Jean-Paul closely, "Hm," he said, tapping his chin, "Maybe. If only a little." Then the corner of his mouth quirked and he turned back to walking.
Jean-Paul stared after him and then smiled somewhat dreamily (but even 'somewhat' was too much. He had to stop himself before it was too late.). When Bobby looked over his shoulder at him, Jean-Paul quickly wiped the grin off his face and started walking again.
They arrived outside a pair of double doors a few minutes later. It definitely looked like the entrance to an office.
Bobby reached up and knocked twice on the door.
"Come in," A woman called from inside.
Bobby and Jean-Paul exchanged looks, and the Bobby opened the doors. They walked into the roomy office to see a woman with dark skin and white hair sitting at the desk. She looked up as Jean-Paul closed the doors of the office.
"Bobby," She greeted calmly, "Who is this?"
"Um…" He glanced sideways at the other teen.
"Jean-Paul Beaubier." Jean-Paul introduced himself.
"I'm Ororo Monroe." She replied, "Please have a seat."
Bobby and Jean-Paul took up the two chairs in front of her desk. She watched Jean-Paul with curiosity. "Bobby, please tell me what is going on."
"I was out past curfew last night." He admitted first, "And some thugs were fighting him because he's a mutant. I intervened a little, they left, and I brought Jean-Paul back here, since he doesn't have a home and he was hurt."
Ororo looked to Jean-Paul, "That looks like a nasty cut on your forehead."
He reached up automatically but stopped and dropped his hand back into his lap when he realized what he was doing, "It's not too bad." He said.
"Tell me about yourself, Jean-Paul." Ororo said, sitting back.
Jean-Paul glanced sideways at Bobby, who nodded encouragingly. "I am from Montreal. I have a sister there. I came into the United States about a year ago. I have been living on the streets, as Bobby has already said."
"What about your parents? Aren't they worried about you?"
"Both my foster parents and biological parents are dead."
"And your sister?" Ororo asked.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "She has people to care for her." He said.
"He can stay here, can't he?" Bobby inserted immediately. "If he joins the X-Men, he can earn money and pay tuition."
She looked at him and then at Jean-Paul, "Bobby, can you excuse us? I'd like to talk to Jean-Paul alone."
He looked reluctant, but nodded and said, "I'll wait outside."
Jean-Paul didn't turn to watch him leave, but listened as the door closed. A moment passed and he and Ororo stared across the desk at each other.
"I know who you are, Northstar." She said finally.
He flinched and sank down into his seat.
"You're on file." Ororo continued, "You're seventeen years old. You are not poor, nor are you homeless. But you have no U.S citizenship. Is that why you have been living on the streets?"
He nodded slowly.
"What about Alpha Flight? Did you quit?" she asked.
"It wasn't working out for me." Jean-Paul answered.
"You could have waited until you were eighteen to apply for a citizenship without the consent of your guardian, if that's why you came in illegally." She pointed out.
"I could've gotten consent. I just didn't want everyone to know where I went." Jean-Paul said with a small shrug.
"And why is that?"
"…I just wanted to start over." He replied.
Ororo tapped a finger on the desk and donned a thoughtful expression for a minute. Then she asked, "Jean-Paul, I can help you get a citizenship. Since you've been here illegally for a while, I'm going to ask in a few favors to make it easier."
He raised an eyebrow, "You would do that?"
"Of course. I'd just like to ask you one thing." Ororo nodded.
"I am listening."
"How would you feel about joining the X-Men?"
Jean-Paul tilted his head to the side.
…
Bobby sat outside the office, staring at the ceiling. He really hoped Jean-Paul could stay. When the office doors opened, Bobby stood up immediately. Ororo and Jean-Paul came out. She had a hand resting on his shoulder, and a smile on her lips. "Bobby," She said, "Jean-Paul will be your new roommate. I'd like you to show him around."
He held back a grin and nodded.
"I hope you'll feel comfortable here, Jean-Paul," Storm said as she turned to him, "It will be your new home." She smiled and started to go back into her office, "Come by tomorrow morning before classes start and I'll give your schedule, okay?"
He nodded and watched the door close.
"What happened?" Bobby asked him, trying not to sound too interested. It was odd. He had never taken up so much interest in a newbie –not even John, who turned out to be his best friend in the whole fucking world. Maybe it was because Bobby had actually found Jean-Paul, had snuck him into the mansion. John had broken into the mansion one day, smoking, bloody, and swearing as he screamed for someone to put out the fire.
"She said she will help me get a citizenship in the U.S," Jean-Paul replied, "And I would join the X-Men."
"That's it?" Bobby said dubiously.
"That's the gist." Jean-Paul shrugged. He tilted his head to the side, "Can we eat now? I'm starving."
…
A few hundred miles away, another teen sat huddled in a booth of a diner, shoulders hunched, and face hidden behind a newspaper. The front cover read 'WANTED: MUTANT FUGITIVES'.
The teen's name was St. John Allerdyce and he was one of those 'mutant fugitives'.
"Got a car." A young man suddenly slipped into the booth across from John. He wore a non-descript black t-shirt, faded black jeans, and a pair of sunglasses. His name was Remy LeBeau.
John closed his newspaper and after folding it, tucked it under his arm and silently got up and followed Remy out of the diner. They went around the back of the building, to where a pick-up truck waited in a semi-empty parking lot.
"It's a staff car. They won't miss it 'till we're far away from here." Remy told John as he walked around the front and opened the driver-side door. Once out on the open road and speeding at seventy miles per hour, Remy asked, "Where to?"
John was quiet for a while. "New York." He said.
"Westchester?"
"Maybe."
Remy looked over the top of his sunglasses at John. His red-on-black eyes held a silent question.
"Xavier's might be a mutant sanctuary," John said, "But we're still criminals."
"Mutant criminals."
"Remy, don't even."
"But I-"
"We are sleeping in a motel, got it? I don't care how bad it is for your back!"
"We at least get a nice motel dis time?"
"As nice as a low-key motel gets."
"If there are stains on the beds, I ain't havin' sex with you fo' a long time."
"We don't have sex." John rolled his eyes.
"An' why is dat, I wonder? The back. How am I supposed t' have sex if I'm crippled?"
"You're fucking insane." John rolled his eyes. "Maybe I should drive."
"No way in hell or heaven, cher. You ain't even legal drinkin' age yet." Remy snickered, "I'm drivin' de car."
"Fuck you."
"Alright. When?"
"Oh, like that one hasn't been done a million and one times. Just fucking drive, you little shit."
"Love you, too."
"Drive." John slumped back in the passenger's seat and stared moodily out the window.
Remy cheerfully sped the car down the road, humming tunelessly under his breath.
…
They actually went to see Hank first.
After greeting both young men cheerfully, he was updated on the situation, and gladly took a look at Jean-Paul's forehead.
Bobby was gently chided for not waking Jean-Paul up every few hours to make sure he wasn't concussive, but it wasn't that bad and he only needed two stitches, so Bobby was let off the hook.
They made their way through the eating commons, toward the café to get food. Bobby introduced Jean-Paul to a few people who stopped to say the hello-good-morning-how-are-yous. The fresh bandage on Jean-Paul's forehead did not go unnoticed, but did go unmentioned.
"How're you feeling?" Bobby asked as they secured a table and sat down for breakfast.
"A little… overwhelmed, I suppose."
"Yeah, that's…" Bobby trialed off, catching sight of an approaching figure. "'Morning, Marie." He said as she neared.
"Bobby," She said stiffly. She glanced at Jean-Paul.
"Um, this is Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul, this is Marie. Jean-Paul's just joining us today," Bobby explained.
"It's nice to meet you," Rogue said in that soft Southern drawl of hers. Her smile was thin-lipped and forced. "Bobby, can we talk later?"
He nodded, "'Kay."
Then she turned on her heel and walked away just as quickly as she had arrived.
Bobby sighed. "We kinda got into a bit of an argument last night. That's why I was out so late. Understandably, she's still irritated with me."
"Oh." Jean-Paul said, looking down at his food.
"Well, girlfriends. What can you say?" Bobby said, waving his hand dejectedly.
"On the subject?" Jean-Paul said, "Not much."
"Oh. Um."
Jean-Paul glanced up from his plate, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
Bobby relaxed the tenseness in his shoulders when he saw that he hadn't been taken as offensive. He decided on starting a new conversation, just to be safe, "So, I guess you're with me today, huh? Just letting you know, I don't actually do much during the day."
"What do you do then?" Jean-Paul raised his eyebrows.
"First up? Supervising the Danger Room sessions." Bobby grinned, "Come on, it's cool." Without further ado, he grabbed Jean-Paul by the wrist and pulled him away from the table, out of the cafeteria and down the hall.
The control room over the Danger Room wasn't lit when they stepped in. Bobby sat down in one of the rolling chairs at the large observation windows and Jean-Paul pulled up another seat next to him.
They watched as several teenagers walked into the room below, dressed in black leather suits and laughing and talking with each other.
"These are the students that are in training to join the X-Men right now," Bobby explained. He smiled faintly, nostalgic. "I was one of them, almost two years ago." He pushed his chair around Jean-Paul and swung in to sit at the control panel. He pressed a button and spoke into a microphone sticking out of the panel. "Alright guys, we're going to start out with the hide-and-seek jungle sequence this morning. Gold team hides, blue team seeks."
There was a series off cheers and groans from below.
"The objective is stealth, guys." Bobby continued, "Don't let the blue team find you, and if they do, don't get captured. You guys remember how this goes. This will be an evaluated session, so do you best to follow the rules. I'm talking to you Hellion."
Jean-Paul observed a boy maybe fifteen making a face from where he stood below.
Bobby, meanwhile, was typing something on the keyboard of the control panel. A robotic voice suddenly rang out into the Danger Room, "Sequence begin," and Jean-Paul looked down to see that the walls of the room had disappeared and that all that was below was an endless expanse of green. Even so, he could still see most of the trainees, running about the jungle.
"So," Bobby said after a minute of watching the younger teenagers. "You're going to be joining the X-Men?"
"I agreed to it," Jean-Paul nodded, "It doesn't seem like I made a terrible deal."
"The training sessions can be a bit rough though," Bobby mused, "I always had trouble dealing with leading my teams and getting everyone to cooperate."
"I am not so unused to working with teams." Jean-Paul said.
"Is this where I get to hear more about your mysterious past?" Bobby grinned.
"There is not much to hear." The teenager responded with a shrug. He looked to those in the Danger Room. "I knew some mutants back in Quebec, the province I grew up in. We had a little bit of a group going on. We just wanted to be superheroes, too."
"Something happen?" Bobby wondered, smile dropping as he put on a concerned expression.
"Not really. I didn't like it there. I left." Jean-Paul said shortly, eyes falling to his feet.
"Huh." Bobby said, "Well, I mean. I bet you'll be a great superhero."
When Jean-Paul looked up again, there was a smile on his face.
…
A/N: basically John and Remy get together and Jean-Paul and Bobby get together whoop whoop the end.