A little Bobby/Rogue angsty ficlet. Clearly, I own none of it.
Bobby jogged through the dimly lit gardens. Must find Rogue, he thought over and over. The mist shrouded everything, but he would find her. He had to. She wasn't in her room. She couldn't be gone again. His fault.
He was drawn to the large fountain and gazebo by the southwest corner of the school. He sat down on the silver granite edge and caressed the pool, freezing it gently as he went. His fingers scratched at the glass. This was how the trouble had started, wasn't it? A pool, a girl, a quick freeze. And then a broken, hurt Rogue. His fault. Maybe she had run away again. Looking wistfully across the pool. Bobby noticed a familiar red shirt mirrored in the water. John. Maybe he had seen Rogue. Knew how to fix this.
He jerked forward and began to race around the large fountain. No. He froze when he saw exactly what John was doing. He was paralyzed, clutching the nearest tree for support, unable to look away as John continued kissing Rogue. Even worse, she wasn't trying to get away. Touching his arms, his neck, his hair, and he wasn't in pain. His life wasn't being sucked away as his hands slipped under her dark purple sweater. Finally, she pulled away.
"John," she sighed. Bobby hid behind the maple tree, where he could hear her every word. "Stop," she breathed. Bobby cheered silently. This was all a mistake. Not his fault.
"What?" John looked shocked, then angry.
"You know what."
"Bobby?" He filled the name with venom as he spat it, an accusation.
"Yes, Bobby," Rogue pulled out of his arms, off the column he had been leaning her against and began to walk towards Bobby's tree.
"Bobby's afraid of you – just like everyone else!" John shouted. Rogue stopped dead and the dark haired boy walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.
Bobby slid down the tree, shocked. "No," he whispered, hoping Rogue would somehow hear him, know the truth.
"Do I look afraid to you?" John coaxed quietly. "Do I feel afraid to you?" Bobby heard him slightly kiss the back of her neck.
Push away, the iceman pleaded silently as he shifted to watch again, tell him exactly what he is and stalk off to the mansion. Come home to me. Let me fix this. Rogue simply looked at the ground.
"Hey," John soothed, turning Rogue towards him, running his hands along her arms. "Do I?"
"No," she admitted, the response torn from her lips. Bobby realized she was sobbing in his best friend's arms.
"Good," whispered John, wrapping an arm around her waist. He bent down and picked up where they had left off, tongue coaxing its way into her mouth. As Bobby's vision clouded, Rogue began pulling off John's shirt, the words he had shouted echoing in Bobby's head. It was all his fault.