Broken and Beautiful

Rating: PG-13, not sure how far I'm going to go with that rating, but so far nothing too bad.
Disclaimer: I had a disclaimer that said Marvel owns the X-Men, but Pyro torched it!
Summary: John wakes up after the fight on Alcatraz Island confused and disoriented. Maybe Bobby hit him in the head a little too hard…

The first thing he felt was something fine tickling his nose. John scrunched his nose up trying to get it to stop, but the tickling continued. Finally, he gave in and went to brush away whatever it was.

But he found he couldn't raise his arm. "What the…" he started, and opened his eyes.

"Oh, you're finally awake," a cheerful voice said beside him.

John switched his blurry vision to the side where a big, blue fuzzy blob stood with a white lab coat on. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blurriness. "Who the hell are you?"

The blue fuzzball smiled. "I am Dr. Hank McCoy. Nice to meet you, John, even under these circumstances."

John struggled to move his arms, but restraints attached to the bed held him down. "What the hell is this? Some kind of kinky mutant torture?"

"No, son," McCoy chuckled. "You are at Xavier's School for the Gifted. You were brought here after you were found unconscious on Alcatraz Island."

It took a whole 30 seconds for the explanation to register in John's head. "What do you mean Alcatraz Island? Were we there on a field trip and something happened?"

Hank's jovial face contorted into puzzlement. "We were there protecting the Worthington Lab from being attacked by Magneto's Brotherhood."

"But I'm not part of the X-Men team, so why was I there?"

"You really don't remember do you?"

"If I did, would I be asking you, blue boy?" John replied, bitingly.

"You were part of Magneto's army. His right hand man so to speak." Hank slipped his glasses from his nose and stared intently at John's seething face. "How far back do you remember?"

John gulped down the lump forming in his throat. "I was living here. Bobby Drake was my roommate. I just started Danger Room sessions about three months ago. Is that enough for you?"

Hank hmmed and thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. I was warned that you should not be trusted."

"Go get Professor X! He can prove that I'm telling the truth!" John yelled, desperately wanting to get out of the restraints and rub it in this guy's face that he was telling the truth.

"I'm sorry, son." Hank frowned and said solumnly, "The Professor is dead."

"What the hell!" The word dead sent shockwaves through him. He unconsciously fought against his restraints tearing the skin around his wrist.

"Please, Mr. Allerdyce. Calm down," Hank said, pressing one of John's shoulder's down onto the infirmary bed.

"Then get Dr. Grey! She can prove you wrong too!"

Hank's face dropped even more. "Dr. Jean Grey is gone as well."

John's breathing increased rapidly, almost into gasps like he had been plunged into freezing water, as the news hit him. The Professor and Dr. Grey were dead? What was this guy trying to pull?

"Get Kitty Pryde or Bobby Drake," he said more calmly though the edge in his voice was still present. "They can vouch for me."

"I don't think they will-"

John raised himself up as far as he could to scream in Hank's face. "Just get them NOW, you blue bastard!"

Hank sighed in frustration then stepped over to the intercom. The familiar voice of Ororo Munroe came over the speaker. "Can you send Ms. Pryde and Mr. Drake down here to the infirmary? We have a situation with Mr. Allerdyce, and he is desperate to talk with them."

"They're on their way down," Hank announced when he turned back to his charge. John was staring at the ceiling, his breathing still rough. He didn't move until the door of the infirmary opened. Bobby walked in with Kitty following. They didn't look too happy to see him, and John noticed it right away.

"What's wrong with you guys?" he asked, face contorting in confusion. "You look like I torched your dog or something."

"Stop acting, John," Bobby said, firmly. His fist curled into tight balls.

"I'm not freakin' acting, Bobby. I have no clue what's going on here!" He craned his neck as best he could to look around Bobby. Kitty was standing there, thumbs latched in her pockets and her gaze on the floor. John knew that look. She was upset or trying to avoid a bad situation. "What's wrong, Kitty?"

Kitty shifted her weight, half of her body showing from behind Bobby. "Stop playing around, John." Her voice was strained as if she'd be crying, and her eyes appeared to be puffy. "It's not helping with any of this."

John bore his teeth in a snarl. "If I knew what 'this' was, maybe I could stop whatever the hell I'm doing!"

"John, please," Kitty said, desperately.

"Yeah, John," Bobby chimed in harshly. "Don't make this any harder than it is."

"Would someone knock you two over the head to get some sense, because I DON'T KNOW what you're talking about."

Bobby shook his head as if disappointed with a child. "You're still a bastard." With that, he stormed out of the infirmary.

Kitty was left standing there meek and frail looking, thumbs still clutching the inside of her jeans' pocket. She bit her lip, staring more at John's feet than his face. He was staring at her face though, anger welling up inside him.

"I thought we were going somewhere," he said bitterly. "I thought you would be the one to vouch for me or at least explain to me what is going on."

He heard Kitty gulp and had a glimmer of hope that she'd say something helpful, but she turned and walked out just as Bobby did leaving John alone with Dr. McCoy.