AN: This is a continuation of the third movie, and it contains elements from all the movies including the newer ones. I have 60k already written, and I've been writing it on and off for a little over six years. I'm posting a test chapter before I go ahead and post the rest.
Besides the movies, I included characters and plot lines from the comics as well. While I'm not a fan of song fics, I did take the title from the Talking Head song Naive Melody. The Lumineers do a pretty cover of it too. Enjoy.
The Jet landed lightly on Alcatraz, though there was nothing light about the violence outside. Alcatraz was being torn to pieces, the bridge bent at an unnatural angle like a broken arm. There were cars and people in the water.
Bobby didn't know how many were dead or dying. Some were swimming towards the rocky bank, but he could hardly see them. There wasn't anything they could do to help them now. The problem had to be stopped at the root or else more people would end up dying needlessly. Bobby knew they all had their roles to play here, and he couldn't just go off on his own, no matter if he could help those people on the bridge or not.
When they landed, all thoughts of the people in the water left his mind and the fight found him only moments after leaving the jet. His stomach was tied in knots and the explosions and yelling made him want to cover his ears.
He didn't have to stand there long before a familiar heat and roaring flames erupted around them. Logan was at his elbow, asking him if he was ok standing up against his old friend. Bobby nodded with a lot more confidence than he felt.
John must've received a similar command from Magneto, because he'd climbed down from his vantage point was standing about twenty feet away, hands held loosely at his sides. They didn't say anything, what could they say? It wasn't like they didn't know what was going on around them or what they were expected to do. Bobby hated this, fighting their own.
He, John, Jubilee, Kitty, and Piotr and the rest, they learned about wars in history. Pretty boring stuff unless it was a movie or something, but he'd never really gotten it before now, why war was such a big deal. It happened to every country, right? But here, squared up against his old roommate and best friend, it was much closer to home. Fighting and killing their own people to decide who was right felt like a pretty extreme way to solve problems.
He didn't want to hurt John, didn't want to kill him certainly. So what was he supposed to do? Knock him out and leave him for the cleanup crew to get shot up with the cure?
He didn't have to decide because John made the first move. It seemed like a pretty halfhearted attempt considering what he knew John was capable of. Maybe the pyrokinetic was thinking the same thing Bobby was, or maybe he was just tired. Even from a distance Bobby knew his old friend didn't look well rested and perky. His hair was lying flat and lank and his shoulders were slumped.
They traded volleys for a few minutes until they each started to warm up. Bobby took a step closer, forcing his ice to harden and attack the weak spots in John's flames. It always felt like time moved just a little slower when he used his ice like this.
In the Danger Room, Storm explained that knowing what your powers did on a deeper level could help you control them better. She'd asked him "do you know what ice is? How it forms?"
Bobby had replied that ice was just frozen water. Everyone knew that. It wasn't hard to understand. Then she'd asked him what happened when things get cold, what happened on a molecular and anatomic level.
He thought back to earth science a few years back and said, "Things slow down?"
"If by 'things' you mean atoms and their molecules, then you'd be correct," Storm smiled.
So they worked on that and Bobby worked on feeling atoms and their molecules slowing down when he formed ice and when he touched things to make them colder. He'd always been able to put a coating of ice over something, but cooling things down without icing them over took practice. It took finesse.
The practice opened up whole new doors for Bobby. He was able to cool his own molecules even more, starting from his center and pushing outward, encasing himself with an impenetrable layer of diamond-like ice, and he could manipulate the temperature in a room. Bobby wondered what John would have been able to do if he'd stayed at school. Maybe he would've been able to do something other than throw fireballs and blow shit up.
As it was, John looked like he was getting tired, and Bobby was steadily advancing. He formed a crackling ball of ice in his hands. It was so cold it was giving off icy vapors and it hit John square in the chest, knocking him back and making him lose focus. His flames died a bit and Bobby closed an icy fist around the collar of his friend's shirt, dragging him close and punching him across the jaw.
He drew back to hit him again, but John's head lolled back and his body went limp. Bobby held him by the collar for a second, wondering what to do next. He hadn't expected the fight to be so short.
He didn't have to wonder for long though, because something new was happening. A fast fog started to roll in, and he recognized Storm's handiwork. Instead of hitting John again to make sure he was really out, Bobby dragged the pyrokinetic behind a pile of wreckage, not wanting to just leave the other mutant's body just lying on the cold ground.
It sounded like things were starting to quiet down all across the island, but Bobby's ears were still ringing with the noise of explosions and gunfire, so he couldn't be sure. John started to struggle next to him, but Bobby gave him a shake and he quieted down.
"What're you doing," John slurred, trying to sit up better with his back against the wreckage as best he could with Bobby's hand on his collar.
"Shut up!" Bobby hissed, trying to get a look at the battle through the thick fog. John coughed and groaned, "I think you knocked something loose."
Bobby shook him again, "I said shut up. You're lucky I didn't leave you laying there for someone else to find."
"I made it easy for you."
"Like hell you did," said Bobby.
John's head fell back on a slab of jagged concrete. "No really, I did. I needed to talk." Bobby turned then to look at him. Was he serious, or just trying to make it seem like he could still beat Bobby in a fight? "Yeah right," he said, "you're just saying that because I beat your ass fair and square."
"I need you to take me back with you," John said, capturing Bobby's full attention for the first time.
"I could care less what you want right now, John. You think I can make those kinds of decisions? You're lucky if Storm and Logan don't let the police take you and hold you for terrorism."
John glared halfheartedly for a few tense seconds, but then his shoulders sagged. "Fine, if that's what they want to do. Just take me with you for now."
Bobby clenched his jaw, looking his old friend over. On the outside, it didn't look like the last few months had been very kind to him. He was thinner and he had dark circles under his eyes. "I can't promise anything," he said at last, "but I'll take you to them. Don't look at me when they say no though. Storm's out for blood and she's not gonna be in a forgiving mood."
"How many people are with you?" John asked. All around them the sounds of battle were definitely dying down, but it made Bobby more nervous that relieved.
"Not a lot," Bobby said over one shoulder, still trying to see through the fog, "Just Kitty, me, Jubilee, and Piotr. Storm and Logan are here too…and Scott, but he's a little off." John raised his eyebrows at that.
"He went missing with Dr. Grey. Then he showed up just a little while ago, beat to hell. There's a few others too, so not many really."
"Sounds like the team's grown in my absence," said John with a touch of his usual sneer returning.
"Didn't seem like it when we were up against your side's army," replied Bobby with his own raised eyebrow that made John fall silent.
Bobby stood up, hand still clenched on John shirt collar. He led them around the pile of torn up cars and concrete, trying to find the right people in all the fog. Gradually, he noticed that the thick white blanket over the ground was disappearing and he began to hear noise. All of a sudden, a barrage of gunfire echoed all around them and both boys whirled around, crouching close to the ground.
The debris all around them was floating. Bobby squinted to make sure he wasn't seeing things. All the junk and rocks and dirt were lifting off the ground, rising steadily into the air all around them.
John poked at a twisted scrap of metal as it came floating by, "Is Dr. Grey doing that?" he asked.
"Yeah," Bobby breathed, "I think so."
"Why did they stop shooting, is the fight over?"
Now that the fog was clearing, Bobby could pick out landmarks and put together a path that would lead them back to the jet and hopefully towards some of the team. "Maybe," he replied, "But if Dr. Grey's moving stuff like this, things might have just gotten worse."
"She was different when I saw her in the camp," said John, "Every time she looked at me, it like, took her a second to recognize me. Gave me the creeps."
"Don't mention her around Scott, though," Bobby cautioned, "or Logan, they're both a little sensitive on the issue right now."
John waved a hand, "I'm not stupid." He nearly ran into Bobby as they rounded a smoldering SUV and grunted as he caught himself on Bobby's shoulder. The cryokinetic stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at the scene in front of his eyes. He saw Dr. Grey, hovering, radiating with power that sent a chill down his back. Everything was pulsing, but quiet. It didn't last long though.
The air exploded; deadly missiles of wreckage flew everywhere. The next thing he knew, Kitty was running toward him with some bald kid dressed in white. Bobby helped them over a heap of broken ground while Kitty pointed wordlessly towards the Jet. Storm was pacing anxiously, looking around for their people.
Bobby followed at Kitty's heels, pulling John along at a dead run. They'd caught a glimpse of Logan creeping towards Dr. Grey while she stood on her throne of wreckage, everything around them disintegrating. It wasn't the ideal place to be for anyone else. It didn't look survivable.
Bobby panted hard and heard John gasping behind him as they ran to reach Storm. Scott was already there with Jubilee, looking haunted as he stared up at Logan and Dr. Grey. But as Bobby and John came thundering up after Kitty and the boy, he looked towards them, gaze locking on John like a target.
"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply. John stepped smoothly behind Bobby, but Scott called him out, "Don't hide behind him, Mr. Allerdyce, I asked you a question."
Bobby felt John tense but he didn't say anything, only prodded John with an elbow. John moved and stuttered the choked beginnings of a sentence, but stopped under the stern red stare, flushing scarlet.
Storm interrupted the scene impatiently, "Continue this later," she commanded, "Scott, just take his lighter away and get them inside, please. Really buckle yourselves in this time, guys," she called over her shoulder, "I don't want any more accidents, I mean it."
Scott wrestled the devise off of John's arm and shoved him towards the jet. They strapped themselves next to Kitty and the boy, who smiled politely at them, though Kitty avoided even looking John's way. From outside they heard Storm tell Scott quietly, "You should go inside too, this is Logan's turn to say good-bye to Jean and we need to be ready to take off." She added in a softer whisper, "I'm so sorry."
A few seconds later, a brooding Cyclops walked stiffly to the co-pilot's chair and pulled the straps across his chest. Face pale, hands shaking. Kitty gave Jubilee a goggle-eyed expression that clearly said how awkward and holy crap! simultaneously. Bobby agreed silently.
The next to follow them was Dr. McCoy. He arched an eyebrow at John, but said nothing. When Piotr arrived, he scowled at the pyrokinetic and sat away from them next to Jubilee. The jet began to rock and quake. When Bobby looked over, John had his eyes closed and he was fumbling with his straps. He never did like to fly. The last time in the jet probably hadn't made him like it any more.
Quickly, Bobby popped the latch on his own straps and leaned over to John's seat, knocking aside the pyrokinetic's shaking hands and locking the buckle together before pulling the harness tight and strapping himself in again.
One second the jet was being buffeted by the unrestrained telekinetic powers and the next it sounded like a heavy hailstorm was pelting the roof. Bobby realized it was all the rubble falling back to Earth, striking the metal of the plane. What happened? They all waited in terse, breathless silence.
Logan was dry eyed and shaking when he climbed through the trap door into the cabin of the Jet fifteen minutes later with a sad broken bundle in his arms. Bobby caught sight of red hair and a lump formed in his throat. Scott leapt up to help with the…body. Kitty started crying silently and Jubilee reached out to hold her hand. Afterwards, Logan wordlessly locked himself into a seat at the front with Storm and the rest of the adults.
A denser silence fell over them as they lifted into the air and shortly leveled off. Bobby let his mind wander for the flight, trying to relax iron hard muscles in the wake of the numbing battle which felt like seconds and hours all at the same time.
Bobby let his head fall back against his seat, the buzz and hum of flight rocking him into a doze. He was exhausted, and shell shocked, glad it was over. It felt like so many people wouldn't be returning to the mansion, even though their side hadn't really experienced many casualties. Even one is too many, his mind echoed back at him.
Storm's warning of their impending touchdown woke Bobby from his daze an indeterminable time later. In addition to the news, he could feel John putting out heat beside him like a furnace. He was bouncing his right leg in a rapid, nervous tattoo against the floor and he'd sunk down in his seat, one hand across his pale face covering his mouth. His eyes cut towards Bobby.
"Are you all right?" Bobby whispered. John didn't normally put out heat like that unless he was holding fire.
The sound of the wheels unfolding from the bottom of the craft cut across any reply John might've made, and Bobby tensed automatically for the turbulence, looking up to see where they were landing.
They were back at the mansion. The lights were out, it looked like everyone was asleep, or else they were hiding in their dark rooms, waiting for the team to return.
Warren met them on the basketball court, Bobby recognized him by his voice. Since Storm hadn't bothered to open the ground up and land in the hangar, everyone was soon filtering out of the Jet onto the blacktop, preoccupied with their own thoughts and the sad, limp bundle of Dr. Grey, leaving Bobby and John alone in the fuselage.
The pyrokinetic was bent over his knees in the jet's bucket seat, rubbing his face with his hands and groaning softly. His legs continued to bounce agitatedly. Bobby put a hand on John's shoulder, unfastening the seat belt and kneeling in front of his old friend.
"H-hey!" he called over his shoulder, fumbling with John's straps, "Storm! I need some help!"
She trotted back and walked up the ramp. "What's going on?"
Bobby finally found the release button on the harness and started to ease John out of his seat just as she reached his side.
Bobby pulled a struggling John around until the pyrokinetic's back was flat against his chest, pinning his arms so he stopped flailing and trying to shove Bobby away. The heat from the short distance was impossible not to notice. His brains were going to melt or something. Maybe it was a fever?
"He's sick or something," said Bobby, "He's really warm." Was this what John wanted to talk to him about? Did he want to come back because he was sick? The pyrokinetic ran a few degrees hotter than the average person, but nothing like this.
What the fuck do I do? In a panic, he though back to the mandatory first aide course at the beginning of each school year. Bobby didn't think that CPR or the Heimlich maneuver would help here, but maybe he should put John in the rescue recovery position, or was that only for seizures?
Bobby traded a panicked look with Storm. "What's wrong with him?"
Storm knelt down, next to him, "I don't know. Did he say anything to you?"
"Not really," Bobby chewed his lip, thinking. "He just wanted me to take him back to school. I told him it was up to you and Scott."
Storm twisted around and yelled over one shoulder, "Hank! Can you come over here?"
Dr. McCoy jogged up the ramp to the jet, concern plastered over his solemn features. "Is everything alright, Ororo?"
"Something's wrong with John," Bobby replied. His old friend was now listing heavily over on one side. A few seconds ago, he'd stopped fighting and just sat in an untidy sprawl, head hanging between his knees like he was going to throw up.
Dr. McCoy knelt in front of the pyrokinetic, "You said his name is John?" he asked Bobby.
"Yeah, John Allerdyce, St. John, really, but you don't have to call him that. He says no one ever says it right anyway." Bobby sucked in a deep breath, aware that he was close to rambling.
Dr. McCoy tipped John's head up by gripping the pyrokinetic's chin lightly, "John," he said clearly, "can you understand me? Do you know where you are?"
John blinked slowly, Bobby wasn't looking into his eyes like the doctor, but he could see that the pyrokinetic was sluggish. "Jet," said John.
"Do you know what's wrong with you?"
"I can't cool down," John panted, tearing his chin away and letting his head loll forward again. He used one hand to steady himself against the floor of the jet and pressed the other to the center of his chest. "I can't breathe too good. It hurts."
Hank turned to Storm, "Is this normal for him? He's a pyrokinetic, correct?"
"Yes, but he needs a flame source. He's not supposed run any hotter than most humans,"
"It could be power fluctuations or fever," Dr. McCoy said to Storm. He looked at John's drooping figure and added, "Muscle weakness as well. I hope it's from the battle. These symptoms don't bode well, but I don't want to jump to conclusions."
She clasped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with sudden fear, "You mean Legacy? God, they could've sent him as a biological bomb. He could infect us all!"
"Don't panic!" said Hank, holding up a hand, "I'm not sure that it is Legacy, two symptoms don't prove anything, and Legacy-2 can stay dormant for years. It's not an ideal choice for a biological bomb. It's been a long time since there was an outbreak, and it doesn't make sense for Magneto to release it now if he had it. If it is Legacy, I synthesized a cure for it once, I can do it again. It's too early to know if any of us have it, but I need everyone who was on the Jet to take a blood test."
Storm sighed wearily. Bobby knew it was just one more blow on an already bad day. John reached out and tugged at Bobby's sleeve. "Please," he said, "I just need to cool down. You're the only thing I could think of."
"So you endanger all of us?" Storm asked sharply.
"I don't know what it is!" John protested. His hair was damp with sweat, "You have to help me!"
"No, we don't," Storm replied in a calmer voice, but it was no less threatening. "That's what it means to switch sides."
"Do whatever you want with me," John said. The fight left his body and he sagged even further towards the floor like gravity was working differently for him. "Just let Bobby cool me down. I can't take it anymore."
Hank turned to Storm again, "It can't hurt anything. If it is Legacy, then there's nothing we can do. We either have it, or we don't. But we can put the boy out of his misery."
At a startled jerk from John, the doctor clapped him on the shoulder softly, "I mean cool you down, boy, not kill you. Good God, we're not monsters."
That seemed to snap Storm to attention. "I'll let Scott and Logan know about the blood tests. What should we do about the other students already inside the school?"
"If everyone is still on the blacktop, use the quarantine entrance. I'll meet you there as soon as I can. If they've gone into the school, don't tell the students. I don't want to deal with mass hysteria. Quietly set up a lockdown. No one leaves the ground or enters until I've had a chance to do blood work."
Storm nodded and left the fuselage. Bobby grabbed John's jacket and pulled him back into a sitting position. Then he looked at the doctor.
"I don't really know what I'm doing," he admitted.
"Oh God," John moaned, "I'm gonna die."
"Shut up!" Bobby said, "I'm helping aren't I?"
"I really couldn't tell you, son," Hank said, "it doesn't concern my powers. Can you cool without freezing?"
Bobby licked his dry lips, "Yeah."
"Then do that. Try not to lower his internal temperature too much though, or too quickly. It could be just as dangerous."
"Great," Bobby sighed, hopping he wasn't about to freeze John's blood in his veins or turn his heart into a solid block of ice.
He'd never slowed the molecules in other people before, but now he had to before John's eyes started melting out if his head or something. Taking two handfuls of John's jacket, Bobby tugged his old friend up again and kneeled behind him where it was easier to wrap a hand around John's forehead and cover the spot John was clutching on his chest.
He took a deep breath, calming down and focusing on the vibrating molecules that were making John heat up. Slow them down, he thought, slow them down before John's heart gave or whatever happened when he was subjected to that much heat.
At first nothing happened. Then John arched and shuddered as his body cooled, he blew out a fogged breath from blue lips. But it seemed to help, "Do you really think it's some type of virus?" asked Bobby, adjusting the pyrokinetic as he slumped back against him.
"It's a possibility. You're not old enough to remember when the Legacy virus was at its height. The only strain left is Legacy-2, though I don't doubt the other strains exist in a lab somewhere." He leveled a serious look at Bobby. "What exactly happened on Alcatraz? What did John say to you?"
"We fought," Bobby said, "Then he said he needed to come back with me. That was it. He didn't explain or anything, just said he needed to come back." In his arms, John started to recover and he stirred weakly, "I don't know if he's lying about not knowing anything."
"We'll do some tests. Legacy takes a long time to kill. Lucky for him, we can keep him on ice." Bobby blushed, glad John couldn't see. But he did, however, choose that moment to say in a strained voice, bringing the attention back to him "Still hurts like a sonofabitch though." He opened his eyes woozily, head lolling to one side.
Scott's voice rang out from the open hatch. "Watch your mouth." He folded his arms across his chest, "Now, I think I'd like that explanation. What are you doing here?"
"Listen," said John, avoiding Scott's visor, Bobby heard the tremor in his voice and dearly wished he could tell if John was faking, "This is really the only place I have to go. I know we're not really ok with each other but-" his voice tightened and grew brittle, "I wish the Professor were here, and Dr. Grey was always fair to me, I didn't mean to-" his eyes landed on Storm, "I can't go back, there's nothing to go back to."
Scott looked at him coolly, "you've got a nice jail cell waiting."
John went ridged in Bobby's arms, but he didn't say anything. A short silence fell over the small group. Bobby could feel John's breathing speed up. Storm broke the awkward pause and laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Not here. We'll decide something in the morning. It's been a long day."
Hank was the next to speak. "I agree. This is a decision best made when we're all a little less emotional."
Tempers were far from appeased, but everyone cooled down for the moment. Scott, Storm, and Logan disappear with Dr. Grey's body while Hank escorted Bobby and John to the infirmary. Under Dr. McCoy's direction, Bobby wheeled a bed into a secure room where John would spend the night.
Reluctantly John traded his clothes for a pair of sweats and sat on the bed while Hank wheeled in equipment. "What're those for," he asked eventually when they were all assembled and plugged in.
"Well, this one will tell me your heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature once you have these attached to you," he said, waving the sensors hooked up to the machines. "And this is just to hold a saline bag in case you need an IV."
He made John lay down on the bed and clipped one devise onto the pyrokinetic's finger. The machine began to beep gently after a second. Before hooking up the sensors, Dr. McCoy prodded gently at the bruises beginning to form across John's chest.
John winced when he hit particularly tender spots. "I think you might have a few cracked ribs, Mr. Allerdyce," he said. John scowled Bobby's way, but he just shrugged. What did John think was going to happen in a fight? He should be thankful he wasn't hurt worse.
"There's nothing I can do besides give you something for the pain. That should be enough tonight."
"So you're just going to lock me in here?" asked John.
"What did you expect was going to happen?" said Bobby, "You know we have actual jail cells in the basement? You've slept in the infirmary plenty of times before."
Dr. McCoy ignored Bobby and said, "Oh you won't be entirely alone, I'm going to catch a few hours of sleep, but Warren will be sitting in. I'll be back to run some blood tests and monitor your temperature. Will you know when you need help?"
John shifted in his bed and avoided looking at Bobby. "I think so. What happens then?"
"Well," Said McCoy, "If we can't do anything to lower your temperature, we're going to have to call in Mr. Drake again if that's alright with him?"
What could Bobby say? No, I won't do it? John was doing his best to look like he was interested in his folded hands resting on his stomach, but Bobby wasn't fooled. John's ears were red and the machine next to him started to beep a bit faster.
"Yeah," he said at last, "yeah, ok."
Hank hooked up the rest of the sensors to John's body and then locked him in the room. It had a window so that they could still see John. He settled down into the bed and pulled the thin blanket up to his waist. Hank moved around the infirmary putting some things in order while Bobby tried not to be too obvious about not wanting to leave.
When he looked through the two way mirror again, John's eyes were closed and his face had smoothed out. His narrow chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep.
"He's already a little warm," said Hank, "but nothing unusual yet. Are you worried about him?"
Bobby scratched the back of his neck, "I don't really know. I'm still kinda processing everything. It's just not real yet."
Hank nodded as he listened, "I expect that it will be easier to think about when you've had some rest. Warren will be in soon, he'll wake you up if you're needed. I'm sorry, Bobby. This is just a temporary solution until I have some time to figure out the problem."
Bobby nodded. Until Warren arrived, he stared through the window at John. He really thought he'd seen the last of him when he'd left at Alkali Lake. From the little he knew of the pyrokinetic's life before Xavier's school, John didn't put down a lot of roots. So on some level Bobby had quietly anticipated John's departure ever since their first year at the Mansion.
He'd tried not to treat John like the friend you secretly knew you wouldn't graduate with. It was always at the back of his mind though. When it did happen, the betrayal hurt bad enough to leave his stomach aching and his mood sour for weeks. The shock of seeing him back hadn't quite worn off.
Bobby really didn't know what to do with his old friend. They were almost out of school, though technically John wasn't because of all the time he'd missed. In the fall, he, Piotr, Jubilee, and Kitty would be moving to different rooms in the unused wing of the teacher's quarters, starting college, and working part time for the school.
On weekends and evenings they learned more about functioning as X-Men with Storm, Scott, and Logan, usually around six o'clock, before the fencing club could use the danger room.
Where did John fit into that neat little schedule? Bobby almost regretted the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. It was selfish, but part of him asked if John wasn't being selfish too. It asked what right John had to come back asking for help when he never gave one thought about leaving.
Bobby walked back to his room slowly, too tired to think but the thoughts kept coming anyway. The room was cold when he got there. Everyone was sleeping in the dorms or sitting quietly in the dark.
Bobby sat on his bed across from the empty twin that had once been John's and put his head in his hands. Everything was going to be so much harder to figure out now without the Professor there already having an inside look from every mind. He'd know what was going on with John.