Storm
Ever since that advert had been on I'd not had a single moments peace - calls, emails and fly by visits had become strangely predictable. Every single one of them from former students who had known John as just that. And those who had suffered at the hands of Pyro, inadvertently or otherwise. Kitty and Bobby had turned up but had not yet left. They were waiting for news from our various sources in an attempt to track him down. For me, I wanted to know just how sincere he had been but for Bobby...that resentment and rivalry still simmered underneath the exterior. As for Kitty, well what Bobby wanted, she wanted although she'd never admit it. Not even my office was sacred any more. I think I'd been in here for around half an hour and I already had a visitor. One I had never expected to see, but they were here regardless.
"Haven't you found him yet?"
"Why so concerned?"
"Ororo, my dear, I had and still have a vested interest in the young man"
"You mean he hasn't been in touch with you? Erik, I thought you would have been the first person he turned to"
"If only that were so. Now, why are you looking for him?"
"Curiosity I suppose. I'd like to know just how much he's changed"
"Don't you mean how much of it is an act"
A voice from someone stood at the door. Blonde hair dropped into those clod blue eyes; so much anger...so strange coming from someone who was usually so open and calm. It felt like some how there had been an overnight personality transplant between the younger John and the current Bobby. The steel haired individual sat opposite me smiled, not bothering to turn to se who was speaking. They remembered the persons voice very well.
"Ah, good morning Robert"
"Whats he doing here?"
"Magneto is-"
"Ms Monroe, please. I've not been Magneto for a while, call me Erik. In regards as to why I am here...I was wondering whether or not you'd found out where our mutual friend is"
"John is no friend of mine"
"No, but he once was I would say he still holds part of your heart"
"Of course he does. Us and the brotherhood just love to play friendly"
"Sarcasm does not become you young friend" A soft chuckle and he rose to leave, casting a look in my direction. "Call me when you hear anything - you have my contact details. I bid you a good day before any more of our former acquaintances awake and take a dislike to my presence"
It still was a shock to see him looking so normal. It would appear that despite having regained control of his powers, Erik had given up on his plan for mutant domination, claiming he was now too old and those few still involved with the mutant superiority cause he simply could not and would not trust. They were an untrained rabble who had never heard the words discipline or hard work in their lives, much less understood them. It was part of the reason I was so reluctant to let him know when we tracked down John. If we tracked down John. He'd hidden his tracks very well and so far I'd drawn a blank. It had been two weeks of near sleepless nights and over shadowed celebrations in the run up to Christmas, thankfully it'd missed Thanksgiving by a few days. The snow lay thick and I could see it out of one of the windows.
It reminded me of what John had said. The cold made his hands ache, another imperfection. The John I knew hated being considered imperfect as much as he hated the cold. When he first arrived at the institute it was winter and he refused to leave his bedroom. Instead he sat on his bed, playing with his lighter and keeping himself warm. He wasn't the only one who had a dislike for the cold, but he was the only one who went out of his way to avoid it. Of course, we didn't know what he was doing or if he was even in the country any more. He hadn't used his mutation yet so we couldn't track him through that...it was like he didn't want to be found although he'd said that he wanted forgiveness so surely he would have come to the mansion?
"Any news?"
"No, nothing yet. I'll let you know if I hear anything"
"Kitty's going back to Illinois, I'm going with her. You can contact me there"
He left the room, brushing past Logan as he left. Watching him for a moment, the Canadian seemed to be considering the behaviour of the younger man. He'd voiced his opinions on this before now, stating how he felt it was a case of left over rivalry. It had been playful whilst they were both within the mansion, but it had been growing increasingly competitive and whether or not John had joined the brotherhood it would have grown into the violence that we'd seen at Alcatraz. Maybe that was the case and this was little more than residual - something that John had outgrown and got over, but Bobby hadn't. If he was ever going to get over it was still unclear. Sitting down, there was the soft crack of an apple being bitten into - it was hanging off of his claws (for lack of a better word) once again. I'd given him the lecture time and again about abusing his power and setting the right example, but every time he just shrugged it off and continued on his way in his own manner.
"Any news?"
"No, not yet. Someone mentioned something about a possible sighting further south but it turned up blank"
"Why pursue him? He don't want to be found then don't look. He'll come in his own time"
"Maybe you're right. We'll stop, at least until after Christmas. Will you be with us or Marie this year?"
"I've invited her up here, but she may chose to stay in the south"
"Yes, she's grown very attached to the Southern hospitality and warmth that even I cannot mirror for her. Besides, I wouldn't want to take away the white Christmas for everyone else, would I?"
"I don't think you would, besides it'd just give the current generation of Stryker's another reason to hate us"
"Did you see last nights section of the documentary?"
"No, I was working on my bike"
"When are you not? Here, it's on this USB key. Watch it when you get the chance will you? It explains what he's been doing for the last few years"
~0~O~0~
Wolverine
Daylight had pretty much become a luxury over the last few weeks - but that was what winter did. I'd worked on my bike for as long as possible, but there just wasn't anything left to do to it. Out of sheer frustration and lack of anything else to do I'd gone to start on the other vehicles only to find that they'd been covered already. Someone must have been caught out of the building post-curfew. What more did I have to do? Well, there was that documentary with the little Firebug on that I felt obliged to watch. What else did I have to do and what did I have to lose from watching it? I already knew he hadn't killed - or severely maimed - anyone because there wouldn't have been that clip of them relesing him at the end of the last section. They probably would've had him locked away, never to see the light of day again.
As much as I wanted to be angry with him for tearing Rogue's heart out, abandoning us, causing all that destruction and chaos I just couldn't. I couldn't do anything other than have respect for him. He was a freedom fighter and a survior. I didn't really want any harm to come to him, unless is was by my hand and that would solely be for dealing the damage he'd done to the institutes Southern Belle, beyond that you had to respect the little firebug. He was stronger than anyone would have given him credit for. Misguided and lost prehaps, hot headed, stubborn, infuriating, angry, foolish at times...but still strong with so much unlocked potential.
The institute was surprisingly quiet - no-one seemed to be awake; I couldn't hear the whisper of voices, the shuffle of feet or electrionic buzz of appliaces such as the television or one of the computers. There was no click of cue and ball as there had been whilst the firebug was still around. He'd play pool late at night by himself. I'd never tried to get involved - if he'd even noticed me was a mystery. He was always so fixated on the game. It seemed to be the only thing to keep him quiet and calm other than fire. Or one of the early morning lectures. He'd slept through so many of those (or completely fazed out) I think everyone gave up on reminding him about them and handed him the work later on. He wasn't a morning person - nights and evenings he seemingly lived for - especially the summer when the sun would still be ruling his favourite hours.
Sitting down in part of the library, I took in the rare moments of silence. No doubt they'd be hard to come across again so long as I stayed here. The glow of a computer powering itself up was the only source of light, casting eerie shadows over the little crevices and gaps of the different books and shelves scattered around. Someone had left their homework behind before going to bed - only half finished. Should I have expected anything more? Opening the file, I sat down and leant back still unsure of what to expect from whatever this was. Reality show? Documentary? Did anyone really care? It offered an insight into the minds of a number of young mutants. Seeing as mutants were the current hot topic, I didn't doubt that this would be watched by enough pople for them to not catagorise it.
~0~O~0~
The room was as bare as the week before, but this time there were a number of people sat on the seats and beanbags. The only person on their own was a figure stood to one side, toying with their lighter once again, but this time he was without the leather jacket he'd been seen in previously and his hair was no longer slicked back but instead left to hang in his face and further irritate him. No-one was speaking or making an eye contact with anyone else - the whole scene felt uncomfortable. Someone else entered the room - the sound of a door closing off screen and slight shake of the camera gave that much away.
"Good morning residents. How are we all today? Still not talking? Don't worry, you all will eventually. Now, what are we going to do today?"
"Nothing you haven't planned for us"
"Did you say something John? Why don't you share how you're feeling with us?"
"Don't call me John. I'm not John, and don't start that how are you crap with me. Every one of us knows it's an act - you don't give a shit. No-one cares so long as the mutie freaks are kept under lock and key"
"Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone might just be genuinly interested in you?"
"You mean interested in my power? All the government wants is for you to do is keep us like animals in a zoo where we can be watched by the general populace for their prime time entertainment"
"Now you know that isn't true John. You know we're here because we want to be here, and the cameras are for our protection"
"What danger are you in when you have us collared and our power neutralised? We're no more dangerous than the average person walking down the street"
"Even the average person can be a danger when cornered"
"And that's why you have those shiny needles and liquid sedatives, it keeps us in line. Break us and then mould us into harmless little nobodies so we can blend in with everyone else. You don't want a society of individuals, you want cities of sheep that will jump when you snap your fingers. Like ripping the wings off a butterfly - take away their beauty and leave them grey"
"You know John, you're quite intelligent really - why don't you put that to some use?"
"I told you not to call me John. I'm not John, how many times do I have to say that?"
He'd left his little corner and was stood over the young woman. She looked out of place in her sharp pressed trouser suit (inconveniently a blinding white) and oh so sensible black flat shoes with her hair in it's place, clearly kept down with half a tin or so of hair spray. It was a stark contrast to the scruffily dressed youngster before them. Torn jeans that didn't look like they'd been washed in weeks, his hair thick and dull with grease that remained on any skin it touched, some bland t-shirt worn thin and greying with age. Despite the overall poor appearance he still intimidated her, but it was little more than a staring contest. Sitting down on the floor at the feet of a number of equally angry young mutants, he continued to watch the speaker with a degree of disdain.
"Now if you've finished we have a lot to get through today. Each of you know who you have to see and when - until then you'll be free to do as you will provided you remain in the house. Apart from you, you'll remain in your room until you are needed"
Noise - far too much of it and all complaints over his treatment. They were claiming he was being treated like a child throwing a tantrum and how they had no right to do as they did. The shouts fell on deaf ears as those dressed in equally white clothes walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them. Fading out of the living room scene, it was replaced by an office - all steel and glass. Cold, modern and clinical. Just like the person sat behind the desk. The only splash of colour in the room was a spider plant sat on the desk and strip of black that was most likely a pen. Everything else was either white, wood or steel. Leaning back in their seat, having listened to the question posed to them, they steepled their fingers and closed their eyes as if thinking.
"John is probably the most difficult resident we have at the moment. He refuses to co-operate and is often violent towards staff members and the others living in the unit. We've identified that he has some very major anger management issues and is, in the opinion of those professionals who have seen him, borderline depressed, notable mood swings, insomniac, psychotic. All point to a high probability that he suffers with Dissociative Identity disorder. Potentially a very dangerous individual if he continues to remain untreated. I'm shocked that whoever has been caring for him so far has not taken note of it"
"How do you plan to deal with this?"
"Medicate, counselling...whatever we can. At the moment I wouldn't even contemplate allowing him into the general populace - he's a danger not only to those around him, but also to himself"
~0~O~0~
Wolverine
Simply put I couldn't watch any more of this. John was not crazy, just a little angry and stubborn. He was a typical teenage boy who had a few issues but he was average. Bitch painted him as some mindless sociopath. I couldn't stand professionals and she was the perfect example of why. If he'd been so dangerous then why had Xavier allowed him to stay in the institute and roam as freely as he did? Maybe he'd had some sort of block on the alternate personality (or personalities) in a similar fashion to that of Jean and the Phoenix that had simply worn down leading to his defection to the brotherhood. One potential theory, but I still preferred my original theory that she was a crazy bitch who hated mutants.
The insomnia I probably should have noticed - not matter what time of day or night it was he was either wandering around or playing with that lighter. It was more noticeable at night because that rest of the students were asleep and it left the constant small of lighter fluid floating around. I never really spoke to him at night, then again he didn't really register anything - he walked around in a daze, not really taking anything in and letting it wash over him. I thought he was ignoring me at first, then I thought he was sleep-walking...but what if it had been an alternate personality? Was it possible that we hadn't really been trying to reach him? What if's were all well and good, but it did not help in any way to look back and wonder what could have been.
He'd hated the cold so why would he be so far north during the winter? He had to be further south - some of the deep south states. Places that rarely saw snow. Texas? No, he didn't know anyone in Texas...however, Louisiana and Mississippi were another matter. New Orleans prehaps - seemed right for him. However, he could have gone after Marie - he'd have to track her down first. It was more likely that he'd taken to New Orleans as his temporary bolt hole. Easy money (equally easy women if he was anything like a typical hot blooded male), he could disappear into the crowd easily enough, accomodation wouldn't be hard for him to come across. It was perfect for a temporary home.
I probably should have told Ororo that I was leaving, but I wasn't even aware of it until I was out of the gates and a good 20 miles from the institute. I'd call her when I stopped, they were used to this by now.
~0~O~0~
Rogue
"Mornin' Marie. Oh, you got a surprise waiting at your desk"
"Thanks...what is it?"
"I ain't sayin'...heavy night?"
"Guess you could say that, though not usual kinda heavy"
"How much did ya drink?"
"Couple of shots, glass of wine. Ran into an old face, stirred some stuff I'd rather not think about"
"Ouch...catch up at lunch? Works piling up for me, dunno about you though"
"Can do, come get me when you're ready"
That was the one thing about being the office mutant - I got breaks whenever I wanted. No-one was going to argue with me. But unfortunately they also tended to keep me at arms length. Well, all apart from a few of the other girls working on the same floor as me. For some reason they looked up to me - probably had something to do with flipping one guy on his back when he grabbed my ass. They'd all begged me to teach them and naturally I'd obliged. If being that way won me friendship and respect, then why shouldn't I exploit it? No, exploit was the wrong word. I couldn't think of a positive way of wording it, but it was a positive thing. Strange how the English language worked out that way.
Sitting on my desk was a plain box. Off white box and deep blue bow, or antique white and brandeis blue as those interior designers would say. There was an envelope attached to the bow. Nothing all that special - plain enough. White paper, black ink and a large cursive script coated the front. Placing the envelope to one side and sliding the top off, I found one of those annoying levels of tissue paper that was the same colour as the box. Pushing the paper to one side, underneath was a flower wreath. and list of the different flowers and wood used; Lavender, French Marigold, Morning Glory, Tamarisk, Winter cherry, Garden Anemone, Colchicum, Fraxinella, Fumitory and Yew. None of them really meant anything to me, but the burst of colours didn't really flow. I had a feeling that they were picked for their meanings rather than the way they looked. Placing the lid back on the top, I slid the box under my desk where it was safe and opened the envelope. It was one of those hand written notes that usually got sent out with an order from a florist, but there was no traders mark or logo to give away where it had come from.
Marie
Take this and the wreath as part of my aplogy if I offended you last night. However, I would like to do so in person. How does dinner at Elixir around 7 sound?
Feel free to look into the meaning of the flowers, though I doubt it would make much sense unless it was explained it to you. However, I may do so someday.
Until later,
Arrogant prick! Did he honestly think he could simply demand my evenings? I'd never come across someone more irritating, and I knew a lot of irritating people. He was so up himself that he thought he could just snap his fingers and I'd come running? No. That wasn't how it worked. I was tempted to track his number down and tell him where to stick the damn wreath and dinner. The other item - the this- was a giftcard to one of the more...upmarket clothing stores. That could go back as well. Did he think he could simply buy my forgiveness? I hated him.
"Hey Marie...what did you get there?"
"Apology from some guy that pissed me off. He hasn't changed much since I last saw him - only difference is he has money now"
"Can I see?"
She didn't wait for my answer but instead she reached over and took the note from the desk. I'd ended up throwing it down in frustration. Her eyes visibly widened at the name and held back a squeal, looking over at me. The name obviously meant something to her although I didn't get why. Was he really that good at what he did? Passing her the list of flowers used in the wreath, she scribbled something down on the paper next to each of the words before passing it back, clearly busting to say something.
"What is it?"
"Allerdyce? As in theJohn Allerdyce? Novelist, art collector, 7 bedroom house with a 6 car garage packed with the latest sports models, built on 12 arces of grounds John Allerdyce?"
"Maybe...he really that good?"
"Wrote the last three years bestsellers, got a couple of million from the first book alone. Guy's rolling in it, if he's offering then take it. I would"
"I'm not that sort of girl"
"Did I say you were. Strange wreath though - not a very happy one. Check it out...I need to go talk to that guy on fifth. I'm this close to getting a date"
"Shameless flirt"
She didn't reply but winked at me over her shoulder as she walked away, toying with her shirt as she went. It was a little lower, boosting her cleavage and hugging her hips that little bit more. She really was shameless, but it was one of the reasons I enjoyed her company so much. Pulling the card over I glanced at the notes she'd made and found my brow creasing up in slight confusion. Lavender - Distrust, French Marigold - Jealousy, Morning Glory - Instability, Tamarisk - Crime, Winter Cherry - Deception, Garden Anemone - Forsaken, Colchicum - My best days are past, Fraxinella - Fire, Fumitory - Hatred, Yew - Sorrow. So that was confusing. None of it really made sense. Especially the Colchium and Yew. Now, did I take that date and the card? Hell, why not? If he was gonna throw money at me then why shouldn't I take advantage of it...take advantage of him. Lead him on and drop him in the dirt when I got bored of playing him for a fool.
He dropped us - the x-men - so he deserved the same treatment. An X-men dropping him without a moments notice or single reason.
I own nothing, those right belong to all respective companies; charcters, clothing, songs. None of them are mine.
Please review - I know there is already a fair amount of good Ryro out there, but I wanted to try writing my own. Can you please let me know what you think. This remains unbetaed so all mistakes are a result of me not paying enough attention whilst proof reading. I am looking for a beta, however I'm not 100% sure how it works so it would also be nice if someone could explain it to me.
This is the website I've used for the flower meanings: http : // www . languageofflowers . com / flowermeaning . htm
parris411 - My GCSE English teacher was never a fan, so it's nice to hear someone comment positivly on my style. He always insisted that I never put in enough detail. And I did plan to put the different points of view in but I suppose it must have slipped my mind at the last moment. I promise we'll all be finding out what he's been through. To be honest, I'm not yet 100% sure myself but it'll come to me, it usually does.
Crazy4horses - As above, I promise that you'll find out about the last few years, and my version of his childhood, throughout the story, but I don't intend for it to come flowing out easily. I don't plan to have him opening up for a good ten chapters or so and even then I don't plan for it to be an entirely comfortable affair.
dulcesweet - Well, I can't have her being the ice queen, can I now? That's Emma Frost's role.
Rageful Jewel - Yeah, part of the reason I wrote him being so calm is because of the number of fics with him giving into his anger far too easily. The anger is not gone completely, but it hasn't been replaced either, I don't want to give away too much so I won't say anything more on the matter.
hotbritt5000 - Thank-you so much, I don't think anyone has ever said that to me
