Disclaimer – None of it is mine.
Summary - Sometimes, the most important things don't ever get said. Bobby thinks about John, and how maybe he should have said something more when he had the chance.
Blah means flashback.
Blah is everything else.
Things Left Unsaid
Bobby wishes, whenever he gets the chance to think, that he had done more. Tried harder to find out what was wrong, tried to talk him out of leaving, even (when he was really desperate) tried to go with him. He isn't nearly as clueless as people assume. He just pretends to be because, frankly it's easier. He knew that something was wrong – how could he not? He'd known the other boy for years, after all.
He remembers, bemusedly, the rocky beginning of their friendship.
/\/\/\
Bobby trails nervously behind Dr. Grey slightly unbalanced, both by his heavy suitcase and by the idea that he is a mutant ("one of those freaks"). He's glad that his parents don't know about this.
He's lost in thought, and almost walks right into Dr. Grey when she stops. She looks vaguely disapproving, but says "Alright Bobby, here's your room. Talk to me if there's any trouble, okay?" He nods, and she nudges the door open.
"John? This is Bobby; he'll be your roommate. Try to be nice, won't you?" Her voice is hopeful, but her eyes say that she's fighting a losing battle, and she knows it. She gives the other boy one last look, and then leaves, nodding encouragingly at Bobby.
He finally gets to see the mysterious creature that has been causing him such unease; a short, skinny looking kid, about his age, with dark hair hanging over his face. He flicks a small, disposable lighter, on and off, on and off, acting as though there is nothing else in the world but him and the lighter. Bobby wonders, for a moment, what is so extraordinary about this boy. Then he looks up, and catches Bobby's eyes with his own, and Bobby is drowning. The dark, piercing eyes seem to absorb the light from the lighter more than they reflect it, and they seem wild, angry, and somehow entirely captivating. He blinks, and the spell is broken.
"Who are you, then? What can you do?" The sharp inquiries are an almost irresistible challenge, and Bobby finds himself rising to it.
"Bobby Drake, and," he grins, "this is what I do." He freezes the curtains beside the other boy, and then looks at him. "What about you?"
A burst of flame engulfs the curtains, and the boy scowls at him. "I'm John Allerdyce, and I really hate the cold."
Oh boy.
/\/\/\
Sometimes, he tries to convince himself that they would have drifted apart anyways. He wishes he could believe that they were too different to really understand each other, and that opposites really don't attract.
But he knows all too well that he's lying to himself. He suspects the first time he really knew that there was more to John than he let anyone see was when he first saw him smiling. Not smirking or sneering but really smiling.
/\/\/\
They are both 14. Bobby asks John when his birthday is. He gets a surprised look, and then a scoff. "I don't do birthdays, Drake." He persists until he pries an answer out of the fire mutant, and then wonders what he should do with this hard-won information.
When John's birthday comes around, he almost chickens out. He carries his meticulously wrapped package with him all day, but can't bring himself to give it to the other boy. He finally tells himself that he has spent most of his money for the month on this, and so to not give it to him now would be ridiculous.
So, at the end of the day, Bobby nearly ambushes John as he walks into their room, and pushes the present at him with a muttered "Happy Birthday." He stares at his feet while John opens the wrapping, and so misses the incredulous and slightly confused expression that passes over John's face. Then he looks up, and sees John's face crack into a broad smile as he pulls the lighter out of its package.
And now Bobby is drowning all over again and thinks that John should smile like this more often. Then he jealously decides that no, he shouldn't, because Bobby wants to keep those smiles all for himself.
Finally he smiles back, shyly, and says he knows John doesn't do birthdays but maybe he'd like this anyways?
John gives him a strange look, but he can't keep the happy grin off of his face, so Bobby doesn't mind. "I... thanks, popsicle boy. This doesn't mean we're friends or anything, though." But John is still smiling that smile of his, so Bobby just smiles back at him, and says, "Of course not."
/\/\/\
He knows when it all went downhill, he thinks. It was probably when he started going out with Marie. He asked John what was wrong, but of course, it was John and so there was nothing wrong and don't be dumb Bobby.
Bobby knows that was when it stared though, because he can't remember John giving him that smile anymore. He was being shut out again, he wasn't a friend anymore, and he didn't know what to do about it. He guesses John just doesn't like sharing, not even friends. He thinks he should have tried harder to get John to talk to him, or listen at least. It's not the last time he feels like this.
The next time is, of course, when John walks out of the jet.
/\/\/\
Bobby sits beside Marie, staring at the closing door of the jet. He doesn't know what to think. He's telling himself that it's just John playing a joke, but he knows John better than that. He's wanted to leave for a long time, he's restless and he wants more than he's getting here. Magneto's offer would be just the thing to draw him away, really.
Bobby wonders, sometimes, why John has stayed as long as he has.
He feels like he is frozen to the seat. A voice is screaming in the back of his head, "Go after him you fool! He's not coming back!" But Bobby is frozen, stuck to the chair by indecision. He thinks that maybe he'll come back on his own, that Marie needs him to stay and that John doesn't even want Bobby to go after him. All wrong, of course, but they're enough to glue Bobby to his seat, to force him to sit and stare at the door helplessly, wishing it would open again, knowing it won't.
/\/\/\
All this is why he finds himself sitting by a hospital bed occupied by none other than his (former?) best friend, wishing desperately that he would open his eyes. Then he could say the things he knows he should have said before. He's hoping against hope that he'll be allowed a second chance, to say things that should not have been left unsaid.
/\/\/\
I know it was evil of me to end it right there, but I like open ended stories. You can imagine the perfect ending for yourself, if you want.
Love, Colvine.
