Preparing for the End of the World
Author's Note:
An AU in which Quicksilver is the same age as Pyro, Rogue, Iceman etc are the same age, but everything happens in their X-Men universe, not in the 70s/80s. I imagine Magneto, Professor Xavier and Mystique also being portrayed by their younger counterparts, while Jean and Scott are still dead. This is my take on Apocalypse happening in this universe.
John Allerdyce woke up to the sound of a window flapping open and closed. It was a cool night in August, and of course he was already drenched in sweat because of the Mississippi summer.
He could have sworn he checked all windows downstairs before they went to bed; he always did. He always double-checked.
Regardless of what she told him, there was no such thing as "safe" anymore, not even in the middle of the woods, in a small town where people knew him as one of the quieter local firemen, who liked to keep to himself and his family, in a world which kept them hidden away from mutants and humans alike. He rolled his eyes at the thought, because there was no way in hell he would have believed he'd be living this type of life had he been told ten years earlier.
In present time, he swore after stepping on a red Lego, which, despite the multitude of war stories he had etched into his skin permanently and involuntarily, was what he defined as true blind torture. He kicked the Lego to the side softly and continued his way down the stairs into the kitchen, to find that damned flapping window.
There it was, flapping with the wind, and he reached out to in with a metallic hand – thank you, Robert Drake, you son of a bitch – and shut it quietly.
"Nice hands," came a voice behind him, and he turned, sighing – he was tired, and he had to be at work tomorrow at five freaking a.m. And now this.
"Get out of my house, Raven," he said quietly, giving the blue-skinned, red-haired mutant a cold stare.
She scrunched her nose in distaste, before taking a seat at the kitchen island.
"What, no hug?" she asked, hopping onto the barstool.
She looked around the kitchen. It was small, and there were a couple of boxes portraying very colorful cereal on the counter. She could also spot a couple of lunchboxes set neatly inside one of the glass cabinets.
"I can't believe you're a dad," she said, chuckling. She looked at him, shrugged. "Come on, Pyro, can you?"
That finally got a small smirk out of him, and he took his seat on the other barstool, across from her.
"I love my kids," he said, following her gaze as they both glanced towards the lunchboxes. One of was Elsa, that Frozen character (Jeez, Disney, did it have to be an ice princess?) and the other was Captain America. Pyro turned back to Mystique, suddenly grave. "And I love her," he said, subconsciously fidgeting with the wedding band around his metal finger. "So something about you being in my kitchen tells me that bad things are about to happen." He quirked a knowing eyebrow at her.
She sighed, also tired.
"It's Erik, John. He's in trouble, and we need to help him."
"Yeah, the way he helped us, right?" Pyro countered, flexing both metallic hands in front of her. He leaned down on the table, and his shirt bowed down slightly, revealing a few of his scars. Mystique averted her eyes, ashamed.
"I would have come for you –"
"But you didn't," he cut off, eyes turning cold again. "I sat in that cell for a year, and they poked and prodded at me like some kind of animal they could 'fix' –" he exhaled, closing his eyes momentarily to stay calm. He unclenched his hands, which had been balled up into fists. He opened his eyes, and she could see the pain of years buried deep. "But I don't blame you, Raven. They didn't even come for her, and she was one of theirs." He looked away, pulling his hands together. His right palm came into view, and Raven caught sight of the circular patterns that now allowed Pyro to create fire…after all those experiments.
"How is she?" she asked quietly.
Pyro ignored her, and she reached out, cupping his hands. It felt odd, feeling the adamantium.
"How," she asked, pulling his attention towards her, "is she?"
He pulled his hands away, and Raven cursed herself inside because it wasn't working. He wasn't letting her in. She had a mission, damn it, and while she always knew Pyro was especially hardheaded, she didn't think he'd actually get better at it with age.
But then he spoke, and she picked up on something else…sadness.
"She's better now. She refuses to use her other powers, because she's afraid she'll forget who the kids are and I won't be around and she'll snap and become…someone else again," he huffed, crossing his arms. He looked at her. "I spent more time in that cell hoping they'd just kill her already so that she'd stopped screaming every time they tested her. And I waited believing that one day she'd snap and lose her mind to all the others…but she didn't. She was always just on the edge, but she hung on for an entire year." He kept eye contact with Raven, and she caught the split second in which he let his guard down, and said, "I don't want to put her through anything else, Mystique. Please don't let me put her through anything else."
She opened her mouth to say something, reaching her hand forward to comfort him, to promise him that it'd be different this time, because he wouldn't be alone – they wouldn't be alone, but something came into her peripheral visions from the doorway, and she morphed in a split second into her blonde human form.
"Daddy?"
Pyro pulled his hand back, mere inches away from Mystique's, and stepped off the barstool to hug the sleepy little girl, who stretched her arms out towards him. He picked her up, and she fit her head into the crook of his neck, staring with interest at the lady in the kitchen.
Raven was surprised, because not only did Pyro suddenly fit the father type, but he sat back down across from her, this time with the little girl – she couldn't have been more than four or five-years-old – with him.
"What's your name?" she asked the child, kindly, smiling.
She looked exactly like her, but with Pyro's hair.
The little girl tried to hide herself even more, not sure about the stranger in their house.
"Jeanie, it's okay, she's a friend," Pyro soothed.
Jeanie was unconvinced, but after a nod from Pyro, she stretched across the table and took Mystique's hands immediately. Raven almost jumped at the sudden…attack?
"You have powers, show me," Jeanie said, smiling widely, showing the lack of front teeth.
Raven exhaled in relief, before smiling back. She cupped Jeanie's hands in her own, and her skin fluttered back to its original form, up to her elbows.
"Wow," Jeanie said, in awe.
Pyro pulled his little monster back into a hug.
"She loves playing with powers, she thinks they make her special," he said, snuggling his little girl while she burst into a fit of giggles.
"Just like you," Raven said, still smiling as she watched her former – Student? Teammate? Friend? – cuddle his daughter.
Raven stood up, she knew she had won, she knew he'd listen to her. But for extra assurance, she slid a thin metal plate across the table.
"I think you know the address," she drawled out, not turning back until she stood by the doorway. "Good night, Jeanie," she said to the little girl.
"Good night, Raven!" Jeanie squeaked, and Mystique pursed her lips in question, before leaving. She didn't have to hear Pyro's "Jeanie, you know it's not nice to jump in people's heads" to know she was dealing with another telepath.
Once he heard the front shut behind her, Pyro picked up the metal plate and spun it around, before holding it up to the light. There it was…a circle with a strong X in the middle of it, and suddenly he had more questions than ever.
There was a glint from the metal as another figure came into view, and Pyro turned towards the doorway. Jeanie was fast asleep in his arms – how long had he been sitting here? – and he caught sight of the same white bang and green eyes that kept his heart humming, even with all the gasoline pumped into it.
"We need ta talk, Johnny," Rogue said, folding her arms.
Review?
IN CHAPTER 2: We explore the incidents behind Pyro's "hands"