Bobby's phone rang. The display said 'Unknown Number'. He wondered who it could be. As far as he knew no one he hadn't in his phone book had his cell number. Only way to find out was answering so Bobby pressed the green button.

'Yes?'

'Hello Iceman.'

The cell nearly dropped out of Bobby's grip. This couldn't… It was impossible…

'Back from the dead.' He could hear the other grin: 'At least it's what you thought, isn't it?'

'John, I…' But John didn't let him finish.

'No, tell me. Did it feel great? Did you enjoy to see me die? An easy way to put the past behind you, wasn't it? And you didn't even had to soil your hands with my blood. Just knocked me out and let Phoenix do the rest. No guilt to spoil your triumph over me. So you could go back to your girlfriend and fuck her like you never did anyone else but girls.'

'You wanted to kill me!' Bobby shouted without caring about the people around him.

'Of course, you were in my way.'

'That's your reason?' Bobby found it unbelievable, for a moment. Then he remembered that he spoke with John.

'Why are you so surprised, Iceman. You know me: All's fair in love and war.'

'What do you want?' Bobby asked. He had enough of this. John had obviously called for a reason, because he wasn't the type who calls after you humiliated his pride.

'I want you to finish what you couldn't do on Alcatraz.' John's voice ah changed from amused and arrogant to haunted and even a bit sad.

'What?'

'I want you to kill me.'

'That's not funny. And only for your information: I did feel guilty. I thought you were dead for god's sake!'

'If I had known that I get your care when I'm dead I would have died a long time ago. Preferably at Rogue's first day in the mansion.'

'Not that again.' Bobby groaned: ' I really thought you were over this.'

'Kill me and I'll never bring it up again. I'm serious, Bobby.'

'Why would you want me to kill you?'

'Why not? I'll stay dead this time. I promise.'

'Why? Why do you want to be killed?'

'Because I'm dying.' John said calmly.

This time the phone really fell to the ground. He stared in the air for a few seconds until he realized what he had done. Hastily he picked the phone up.

'What do you mean 'I'm dying'?' He asked, not sure how to react to that sentence.

'What do you think I mean with that?' John answered furiously.

'I don't know what to say:' Bobby admitted. He still hoped that John only played a really morbid joke on him.

'Just come here.' John whispered. That gentle noise brought down Bobby's defences. He heard that voice only once before when John had tried to make him stay after their last fight abut commitment before Bobby broke up with him.

Bobby knew John couldn't fake that voice. He was really dying.

'Where are you?' John told him the place and how he got there. Bobby knew the vague direction. He would have to drive the whole night to get there.

'I'll be there tonight.' Bobby said and climbed into his car.

'Don't hang up. The painkillers will wear off and I need some distraction.'

'Care to tell me what happened?'

'No. Tell me something. About you. About the others. Something pretty.'

Bobby thought for moment, then he began.

'Do you remember Julie? Long, brown hair, big brown eyes, she could make explosions.'

'She didn't like you.' John chuckled.

'Because she had a crush on you.' Bobby answered: 'Anyway she got married last year and twins this summer. Named them John and Jean.'

'Bet she regrets now that she named her children after two terrorists.'

'Actually, Jubes told me that that she said that Phoenix and Pyro are the terrorists for her and John and Jean the ones she knew from school.'

'How's Jubes?'

'She's fine. You know her. She and Angela went to travel around the world. Her last card came from the Fijis.

This way Bobby told John about their former classmates until his throat was raw but he didn't stopped talking. John's answers became more and more slurred like he was falling asleep.

There was no answer on the other side.

'John? John! Do you hear me? JOHN!' Bobby yelled but only silence answered him. He cursed and stepped on the gas, still yelling at the phone.

He reached the address John had given him about an hour later. As soon as he parked, he jumped out of the car, took three steps at once and just broke the door.

'John?'

He found him in the bedroom. As soon as he saw him all hopes that he made t on time were crashed. John's skin had a sickening blue-white colour. His torso was uncovered and Bobby could see where John's blood had soaked through the bandage and into the bedclothes.

The phone still lay next to his head and one of his hands clutched his old shark lighter. The other was cramped around a pen. The pad had fallen to the ground; on the first page Bobby could decipher his name.

Hey Bobby

You probably asking what happened. Doesn't matter anymore. Knew the whole time you wouldn't manage it in time. This is not one of your Hollywood movies where the hero rescues everyone. Just called you because I didn't want any bad blood between us. You know: Rogue, Magneto, Alcatraz. Loved you nonetheless.

There are two cans with petrol in the kitchen. I don't want a fancy grave. Just burn me. Like that terrible present fro

At that point death had claimed John.

Bobby found himself unable to move. He sat down on the bed next to John and looked at him until it was too dark to see anything. Then he stumbled in the kitchen, found the cans and put them into his car. Afterwards he took a blanket, wrapped it around John and carried to body down.

As he sat down behind the steering wheel he didn't know where to drive. John, though he had shown off with many things he had claimed he' done, had never given details. Bobby didn't know where John was from or if he still had a family. But then, Bobby thought, John had called him and not some relative.

The beach was deserted like Bobby expected it to be. He and John had spent their vacations here once, in the summer before Rogue had turned up and everything had been okay.

The bay that surrounded the beach was very secluded. They had lived there for almost two months without seeing a single soul.

Bobby stood there until the end. He had even brought two additional cans to make sure the flames could finish their work.

Storm gave him a lecture when he came back to the mansion. Something about responsibility. But he didn't listen. As she asked him where he had been the last two days, why he smelled of burnt flesh and was covered in ashes, he didn't answered.

Back in his room, he placed his favourite photo of him and John from that summer in a frame on his desk and behind it John's farewell letter.