Full summary: A young John finds himself settled in promisingly stable community with the Xavier Institute, but no less than two years in to the introduction of the new environment, the past comes knocking at the door, threatening to bring with him the distress and rowdy antics from the hostile past that he would rather forget. Can he make the right decision to fix his life and repair what of it is left, or stick with the only means of starting afresh?
Fandom: X-Men (AU)
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Quit Crying You Eyes Out
Chapter one
By Dancing Turtle
The city was…big…and busy…and just plain ugly. John peered out of the window with a slightly crinkled nose, not showing much appreciation for what was meant to be the great Big Apple. The buildings were almost engulfed in hazy, grey fumes from the dashing vehicles and obscure transport that hurried by. People in the streets looked despondent as they adamantly headed straight for their destination without looking up to catch sight of the other lonely souls wondering about and rushing to their homes after gruelling, exhausting days spent at work. The angry, charcoal tinted sky was a perfect reflection of the feelings of weariness and frustrated mental state that was currently present in the atmosphere. Just looking at the desolate panorama made John's soul despondent.
"Why are we here?" It had been hanging off the tip of his tongue and he couldn't help but ponder what the purpose of the journey to such an infested, depressing cesspool was.
"Mom? Mom! Are you even listening to me?" he demanded. He leaned forward in the car and gently poked the thirty-something brunette on the shoulder. She didn't even turn to him and glare or tell him to push off when he usually pestered her.
Something wasn't right, he could feel it.
"Mom?"
She only continued to drive unemotionally with a fixed, plain stare on her face. Quietly, he leaned back and sat down in his seat, saying nothing more and only listening to heavy silence sitting in the air.
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"Who are you?" Scott peered at the young man at the door from behind his shade. The male looked like he was in his early twenties, probably no more than 22. He wore distressed clothes that signified he had travelled and long way, and the weariness showed in his tired eyes. His eyes were piercing and dark, and had the same illusive substance that reminded him of one particular rogue student that made his job that little bit more harder for him.
"Um…I'm a relative…of one of the students…" he trailed off drowsily with a helpless smile. Scott's eyes narrowed at the measly reply, and was about to answer if not for the sudden voice that jumped up in his head.
It's ok Scott, you can let him in.
His eyes dropped to the overnight bag the young man had with him and hesitantly stepped aside to let the traveller in.
Who is this guy, Professor? Scott asked curiously.
He appears to be John's older sibling, if I'm not mistaken, the Professor replied with a slight hint of wonder himself.
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"Get out."
She leaned over and opened the door on his side of the car. The car had come to an abrupt stop at the midpoint of some desolate highway, clustered with overgrown weeds and dirty rubble scattered across the road. There was no sign of human life around for miles, only grey sky and an endless road for as far as the eye could see.
"What are you talking about?" She threw a bag into his lap.
"There's some money in there to help you get started. It's not much, so don't waste it." She set her hands straight back on the wheel, looking out at the road as if waiting for traffic lights to change colour.
"What? What-what do you mean? What are you talking about?" Apprehension and unease settled itself unwelcomly in the bottom of his stomach, every nerve in his body froze instantly with agitation. He slowly looked down at the bag in his lap as it where something foreign and alien to him, but he knew exactly what was happening and why it was happening.
"John, get out. I'm not gonna tell you again." Her eyes remained fixatedly on the road ahead. She hadn't even turned the engine off.
"You can't just leave me here!" Anxiety gave itself away in his voice as he almost yelled at her.
"You're old enough to take care of yourself John."
"I'm fourteen!" he retorted.
Nothing but agonising silence followed. His breathing became slightly heavier. His mind flashed back to last Thursday when he had smashed a glass vase against the wall, whilst aiming for Terry, the current boyfriend in his mother's long line of lovers. Terry had aggressively insulted him when John had come home, smelling slightly of beer. What was ironic was that Terry himself was so inebriated, he couldn't even stand up straight and kept getting his words mixed up. Rage had gotten the better of John, he had never liked this trashy hick who thought he could leech off his mother. Seeing the first thing that caught his sight, he acted in impulse and hurled the vase at the drunk. Just at that moment, his mother had come in from the kitchen to see what the shouting was about, leaving the stove alight for a second. As soon as the vase had hit the wall, John screamed simultaneously. However, a miniature explosion of flames and inferno erupted form the stove, leaving a massive black hole in the ceiling, in perfect correlation to john's actions. The simultaneity of the events was eerie. Only heavy silence followed from the incessant shouting and the sudden combustion form the kitchen. Suddenly all eyes were on John and he had nothing to say.
With nothing left to do, John grabbed the bag and jumped out of the car. Slowly, he lifted the bag to his shoulder and let it slump heavily.
"You're gonna be sorry you did this". He crossed his arms with a calm demeanour, making sure not to let her see his distressed hurt.
"Goodbye John." She leaned over to shut the door, not even glancing at him. Without a second to waste , she carried on her route and drove away.
He stepped out on to the road and looked on as she drove away, taking in the last vision he'd have of his mother, not taking heed to savour it.
He only sound in the air after the hum of the engine had disappeared in to the distance was his sigh.
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John could you come to my office please?
The pyromaniac looked up from his magazine.
"Damn, I hate it when he does that."
"When who does what?" Bobby asked from the other side of the counter top, polishing off a tub of mint ice cream.
John, just because you're talking instead of thinking, doesn't mean I can't hear you…now please come to my office.
He groaned and got up wearily, making sure to take his time making his way from the kitchen to the professor's office.
Anytime this year would be nice John.
John couldn't help but grin.
When he arrived at the office, he didn't bother to knock and came straight in.
"Is this gonna take long Professor?" he said as soon as he came in. "I was kinda working on that paper you set us. I'd like to get back to it a soon a possible.," he said with a serious stance.
Scott scoffed.
"Yes I'm sure you were working very hard, John. But for the moment there's someone here to see you. I'm sure you two would like to get reacquainted?" he motioned with his hand to look behind him. John slowly turned around, only to drop his arms from their fold in an amazed response to what he saw.
"Sean…"
His older 22 year old brother stood leaning by the window, with a tired and exhausted demeanor. His clothes were worn out, his posture was drained of energy, yet he had the same youthful and carefree spark lost somewhere within that tired stance that he had always maintained. He gave him a weary smile.
"Hey little bro."
A/N: reviews are all welcome!!!!! (seriously, i savour them)