The car was a birthday gift. From Logan. Last birthday she saw him. The rain was hard. She drove around the corner, and saw the alley John had mentioned. Phone booth infront of it, lamp-post beside it. And there he was.
Blue shirt and a jacket over it. His jeans were cut, his hair dirty blond. He was drenched. And blood was dripping slightly from his mouth. By the time she had stopped the car, he had slipped down.
"John!" she called, jumping out of the car, and running up to him. He was still awake, but his eyes were slowly closing. He was obviously tired and his loud panting and deep breaths told her that he had just been running.
"Can you stand?" she asked loudly. The rain was getting louder and louder.
He stood up with her support, and shrugged off the pain in his bleeding left arm, merely saying, "I'm just damn tired, but I can walk. Person can't rush around nearly all of New York without having to catch a breath."
There's the cockiness. Classic Pyro, Rogue thought.
"What the heck is going on?" she demanded, looking at him from other his mop of wet hair.
He shook his head. "Not here. Let's go. Now. They'll be back."
"Aw, Pyro, who said we weren't already here?" someone asked. Both of them turned. Rogue heard him curse under his breath. He pulled back his arm, which had been around her shoulder. "I can't believe you," said the newcomer, shaking her head. "A little rough-housing and you've already begged for help from…a human." At that word, the woman wrinkled her nose.
Pyro just took a breath. He turned halfway, then turned back, his right hand opened. Fire had shot out, from his lighter. It didn't strike the enemy, but created a tall barrier between them. He pulled Rogue by the arm, and they both headed for the car across the street. He jumped into the passenger seat. She jumped in herself and started the engine. The woman was approaching by now. It may have taken her a while, but she had managed to teleport to the other side of the barrier.
Again, Rogue heard Pyro curse. She stepped on the gas pedal, and drove them off at high speed.
"You're human?" he asked. Something in his tone told her he had already guessed that she was. But he just didn't want to believe it. She nodded. "How could you?" he asked, angry.
"Don't tell me, John. I wanted it this way."
"It's Pyro. Huh. I'd never expect you to betray your own kind, Rogue."
"It's Marie. And it's not like you haven't betrayed anyone. You've betrayed the school. You've betrayed me."
"Then shouldn't you be asking yourself what you're doing here, at around four-thirty in the morning, saving me from those thugs?" He scoffed.
"Don't think I haven't."
"Then why are you here?"
She couldn't answer. She didn't even know the reason. Why was she here?
"I don't know," she said finally.
"Look. You can just drop me off somewhere round the corner. At the bus stop."
"You're injured," she stated, glancing at his arm, where there was a deep cut, then below his mouth, where some blood had dripped.
"Not any of your concern."
She stopped the car. "Listen, Johnny. You're my friend. Atleast you were. I don't know. But I'm not gonna let you just get on the next bus out of here. Not like that."
"The minute the cops see me, I'm a dead man, you know that right?"
"Then…" she paused for a moment. The rain echoed from hitting the glass and the roof of the car. "Stay at my place for a couple of days. No one will look for you there."
"Sure," he muttered. "I thought you were smart, y'know. Ofcourse they'll look for me there. They've seen you and they've probably got your car's plate number."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Motel." He grinned as she sighed, and took a turn.
