Warnings for Story: Slash of the Bobby/John variety.

Warnings for Chapter: A lot of people being killed, so I may need to up the rating, psychotic Pyro, bad treatment of patriotic Americans (AKA soldiers). (I love being British)

Chapter Six: Walk Through the Fire

Marie cried out as she hit the floor, skidding backwards slightly. The hard wood was cold underneath her hands as she pushed herself up, and she winced as her fingers brushed against a surface full of splinters. Of all the places to train her, why did he have to choose here? It was hardly what anybody would call comfortable.

Logan stood back from her, resisting the urge to help her. Let the kid get up on her own. Some old instinct at the back of his mind told him that if she couldn't even manage this, she'd never be able to handle the rest. He wanted to prove it wrong, and, more importantly, he wanted Marie to prove it wrong.

Involuntarily he flinched as she glared up at him from her position on the ground. "Couldn't you have started this somewhere a bit comfier?" Her hands drifted to her back in an attempt to rub it without disturbing any of her bruises, either the fresh ones or the older ones.

"You can make anywhere with this place, the Professor tells us that every time we go anywhere near here. So why couldn't you at least put the floor softer? Just a few cushions or something, that's all." She winced at a fresh burst of pain. "I'm going to be feeling these for weeks."

He raised an eyebrow, inwardly still trying to suppress that inner voice. "Pain helps you learn, kid. You remember what caused those bruises, so you can avoid it next time." He had only meant to make a brief point, but the words continued almost instinctively. "You learn what happens if you fail. It's an incentive to do better. If you're improving, you'll know when it starts to hurt less." A brief smirk, possibly his instincts' way of mocking her. "And you also get a taste of what'll happen in real life."

The brown eyes staring up at him didn't look very impressed. "Nice speech. Who wrote that?"

For a few seconds the words failed to come. His mind seemed to rebel against him, refusing to give up the memory. He'd heard exactly what he'd just said before, yelled at him as a hard hobnailed boot came crashing down…

His fist clenched, the fingers that had been running over the knuckles stilled. A sudden flash of his past, that was gone as soon as that remembered pain came. Or had that been what triggered it?

"Logan?"

She was sitting there, gaze still fixed on him. In so many ways, she was still the picture of innocence, tainted by her powers and scarred by a boyfriend who had abandoned her. Marie had never really had any say in her life before now. He didn't want her to end up the same way as him, from the same training.

"Kid, you don't have to do this." The realisation made him want to hear her opinion, just some sort of confirmation. "You could just give up, walk away. They teach you fighting in class, surrounded by those cushions you keep wanting. Why don't you leave and only learn what you have to?" This needed to be her choice, without any of the hatred that seemed to be influencing her mind.

There was silence as she sat there, apparently thinking hard if her expression was anything to go by. When he breathed in, Wolverine could smell the confusion in her scent. He wanted her to go, but at the same time he wanted her to make her own decision based on what she thought was right. If all of this was what she thought she had to do, then he wouldn't stop her.

Sooner than he had expected, she rose and looked him straight in the eye. "I chose to learn what you still remember." She smirked, echoing the same expression that he had used on her so often. "I want to be the best at what you do." Pausing for a breath, she added, with a slight trace of humour, "Better than you."

The voice in Logan's head finally faded, and he knew why. Revenge was a powerful force and Marie had somehow harnessed every bit of its power. Like it or not, this kid wasn't going to be stopped by merely his guilt.

Wolverine moved into his ready position, raising his hands as he had done at the start of this session. Rogue smiled, partly at him and partly to herself, and mirrored his stance.

"Let's try this again. Remember: More than anything, never let any pain stop you." His body tensed. "Only let it drive you further."

John had to smile as Magneto tore down the police station's metal doors. Attacking head-on, just the way he liked it. None of those phoney, skulking, X-Men tricks. This was the real thing; exactly how he'd always imagined it.

The three of them moved in, Magneto in the centre and Mystique and John on either side. The brunette's hand found his lighter, but stopped at a warning look from their leader. As much as he wanted it otherwise, now was not the time. Not just yet, at least. He needed to wait for a bit longer.

As they entered the building, he was only vaguely aware of Bobby's frightened steps behind them. Suddenly his friend seemed more pathetic than ever, scared when they were the ones with the advantage. Although a part of him said that it was wrong, he couldn't help wishing slightly that the blonde had stayed with the X-Men that he apparently admired so much.

No time to focus on that though. It was far more interesting to watch Magneto pull a quivering cop towards them, presumably by his badge and belt. This was precisely the approach that he'd always wanted to see.

"Where is our brother?" Magneto gave a superior, mocking smile, directed both at the one he was addressing and to the rest of them. "We've come to take him back."

The cop talked, of course. Who wouldn't talk when faced by one of the bad guys? Simply thinking that made him realise how far he'd come in such a short time, from some teen rebel to a member of the Brotherhood. It almost made him smile, remembering how he'd been when he'd first met this new leader.

Bobby was merely forgotten as the three of them went to the mutant's cell. Pyro could finally understand what Magneto had been telling him, telling them all, right from the start: A mutant afraid to use his own powers was weak. The world of mutants had no time for them.

Magneto was far more aware of Bobby than Pyro was. 'Still afraid, Iceman. So afraid. But what of?' Whilst he walked on, idly deflecting the few inevitable bullets, he had to question the ice mutant's actions. 'You still need that simple motivation. What is it that you're waiting for?'

The mutant in cell 11 glanced up with a bored air when they reached him, then visibly stiffened as he sat up warily. "What's this? Some maniac's idea of a movie?" Despite the cool words, any fool could have seen the look of relief on his face as the details of the situation dawned on him.

It was saddening, really. Yet another of his people scared of those that nature had decided that he should dominate. Luckily for Erik, he could now see the light.

He raised both hands with palms facing out, pulling the bars effortlessly free from the wall. Strangely low security for such a politically important prisoner. Perhaps Washington's troops were still on their way. They could have been engaged elsewhere. Maybe the President had some other plan, one that Magneto had not been able to predict, and one that would lead to the Brotherhood's thorough destruction at a later point.

Possible. But not likely.

He turned to look at Mystique. She looked back at him coolly, possibly having precisely the same thoughts. After all, even he couldn't completely tell what she was thinking after all this time.

When their eyes met, he knew what conclusion she had come to though. It was identical to what he had realised. "They're waiting for us upstairs," he said aloud.

"They want to guarantee that we don't have any tricks in reserve." Oh, she was clever; there was never any doubt about that. He may have been the strategist of the two, but she was capable of reading people to an extent that he could hardly imagine. He guessed that it came from being so many of them. That could leave a certain...knowledge.

"Well, we'll have to see what they want." A smile passed between them, not joyful but in anticipation of the battle. As if it would be even, not a massacre of pathetic humans with their guns.

He lifted an arm almost lazily to gesture at the new mutant, noticing for the first time the bruises which he had been trying to hide. Always good to see that the police still reacted in the same way to anything which they didn't understand. "Watch him, my dear. I think our two newest members need to see what they're facing."

There was a brief flash of annoyance across her face, but Erik could see that she understood the reason why. After all, Pyro and Iceman still had to be tested, or otherwise they could become a liability. Iceman in particular.

After a pause she nodded and turned away, whilst he moved to face the two teenagers. As he'd expected, Pyro looked excited at the idea of setting his powers free again. How long had Charles been suppressing him, he wondered, to make him this eager to express his true self? It was nearly frightening, although encouraging as well.

Iceman was clearly attempting to keep his face blank of any feelings, just as he had before, but once again he was failing in the same way. The fear was obvious in his eyes, though it was uncertain what of.

Magneto smiled at the two of them. "Time to prove yourselves."

The Professor gripped the arms of his wheelchair as he leant as far forwards as he dared. 'No, Erik! No!'

Despite his silent protests, the television still showed the same terrible news. A terrorist attack on a police station. An intended rescue of a mutant criminal. Two innocent bystanders critically injured by redirected bullets, with still no sign of the leader emerging from the cells again.

And then, horrific in it inevitability, there was the news that Charles Xavier had known would come eventually. Nevertheless, he had sorely wished that it wouldn't.

Washington's finest were well on their way to the area even as the reporter spoke.

The best trained soldiers, probably some of the only ones capable and equipped to fight Magneto's powers. They'd provoke him, but they would also be prepared for whatever way he'd retaliate. That would force Erik to order his two latest recruits into action.

He knew what would happen then; he'd seen it in John's mind enough times. The boy would see the soldiers with their guns, and he would do the only thing that seemed right to him. Especially with Magneto urging him on, he would burn them all.

And what would that do to Bobby? The Professor had never been able to get an entirely clear reading on his former pupil's precise feelings towards his friend, despite searching more than his own ethics would normally allow. He knew that John's outbursts frightened him, especially with their increasing frequency recently, but what else was there?

Without even watching it unfold, he knew what would come next. Bobby would try to hold back, and with any luck he wouldn't fight at all. Hopefully all of the school's teachings would be able to stop that happening. But then again, if John was hurt…

He knew it, from what little he'd managed to glean from the boy's emotions. He was only just realising that Erik knew it too. If John was attacked, injured in any way…

Iceman would make the ones who did it pay for it. It was what the Professor had been dreading all along.

Magneto merely raised an eyebrow as they stepped out into an open hall what was rapidly filling with soldiers. His practised eyes picked out the uniforms: Finally, the elite Special Forces which he had been expected all along.

"Now, this is just typical," he commented, as if he was having trouble buying groceries rather than facing a room of armed professionals. The President had certainly taken his time. What was this country coming to, where it took this long for a politician to react to an obvious retaliation against him?

A movement to his right caught his eye. One of them was raising his gun. Idly, he felt for it, intending to simply yank it out of his hands…and felt nothing. It was only after several attempts that the reason why occurred to him.

"Plastic weapons. That does make it more interesting."

Apparently that made the humans assume that they were in the position of power. As if on cue, a wave of bullets cut towards them, only to waver and fall as they hit the magnetic field that Magneto surrounded himself with instinctively. What was the point of making these special guns if they insisted on continuing to use ammunition that could still be manipulated?

He turned his head away, focusing on the teenager to his right. "Pyro. Burn them."

The mutant smirked, drawing an ordinary lighter out of his pocket. "Like you had to ask."

As the first wave of heat washed back over them, Magneto felt Bobby flinch. A reaction to the temperature or to the action? It was unclear simply from his expression. After all, it was only reasonable to expect an ice mutant to react negatively to fire's effects.

Not, of course, that this prevented him from having any contact with its controller.

The small flame from the lighter sparked up, swiftly growing and then leaping across into Pyro's other hand, before being almost instantly thrown forwards. It collided with a group of roughly four or five soldiers, incinerating them in a second.

Instant death. From what Magneto had gathered, the last time Pyro had been loose, he had only begun to even consider killing towards the end. This time, he did it at once and with no hesitation. It was almost as if he was changing each time, evolving at every opportunity.

Several more bursts followed, leaving more groups of charred husks. Each time the radius increased, creating a greater amount of death. Then Pyro suddenly thrust his arm across in front of him, sending an arc of flames fanning out until they crashed down in front of the three mutants. They formed a barrier which was practically alive between the two groups. It instantly began to eat its way through the floor, quickly reaching a base of vegetation to anchor itself in naturally.

A clever move, Magneto noted. A self-sufficient guard which would still remain if anything happened to its creator.

Its use became yet more obvious as certain parts began to shoot out their own separate branches of fire, reducing still greater sections of the soldiers to ashes. What had been a formidable force was rapidly being reduced to remnants and the survivors.

Magneto watched with interest as the streaks of flame started to shape and twist, sometimes splitting and sometimes joining back together again, looping around each other before rushing away once more as abruptly as if they had been magnetically repelled. With every passing second Pyro seemed to be playing more and more with the fire. He appeared to be only just realising what he could do with it.

"John! John, stop it!"

Bobby's yells finally drew Magneto away from his fascination with the movements. The blonde looked distraught, almost screaming his friend's name. No, that word wasn't nearly enough. He looked terrified.

It was the most emotion that Erik had truly seen plainly on his face since first meeting him. And every bit of it was all directed at John. All caused by John.

The rain of bullets had continued after that first volley, becoming increasingly erratic. These soldiers weren't fighting in a drill, they were in danger. There was nobody telling them what to do to fight fire itself. Roughly half of them now lay as slowly smouldering ashes. Those left were firing whenever they could, with no clear pattern to it. Not that it mattered. Magneto had simply created a constant magnetic field around them, a protection just as good as Pyro's blazing wall.

"John! They're going to kill you!"

So that was it. Bobby wasn't scared of his friend, or at least not primarily. He was scared for him. All that emotional control had been shattered simply by putting John in danger.

While Magneto was considering this, still plotting and calculating, he became abruptly aware of his magnetic field wavering. Without much difficulty, his mind grabbed onto it and wrestled it back into place. No real damage done, but he was shaken now. How had he lost control of it like that? Except he hadn't, he had just need to consciously focus on it.

The growing inferno continued to swirl around the room, now herding several separate survivors and circling them. It was uncannily similar to watching some large cat playing with its food. A sudden surge of fresh heat washed over Magneto's face as the field wavered once more. As he felt the sensation, it finally hit him.

It didn't matter specifically how he was doing it, but Pyro's powers were somehow warping Magneto's magnetism. That was yet another factor to consider. The shield remained intact, yet it required a direct application of the mind. This could become more difficult, given the progressively more unpredictable bursts of gunfire.

"You've killed enough of them, just leave the rest alone!"

Erik glanced over at the screaming mutant and momentarily paused in surprise. A few tears were streaking down his face, but despite the almost overwhelming heat from the flames, they were freezing even as they fell. Once again, Bobby's emotions were drawing out his powers.

It was the fear for John. Of what Pyro was doing. John, Pyro… He was Bobby's weakness, no matter what name or reason was given.

Strangely, as Magneto saw those frozen tears, he could hear Mystique's voice from mere minutes ago in his head. "They want to guarantee that we don't have any tricks in reserve."

Without looking, he knew that all of the bullets were now targeted at Pyro. Simply by considering all of the times that might be available; surely this was the time for the one trick that he himself hadn't been able to guarantee.

His control suddenly slipped again, in time with Pyro letting off another blazing burst, and a bullet shot over their heads, thankfully far above. At this rate, any one of these could get through. Any one of them could hit…

Iceman was the new trick. The one that they didn't seem to be able to predict. The one nobody could control, or know his limits.

But he was stubborn. He only responded to John.

Bobby wasn't aware of the tears or the ice. He could only see Pyro grinning, laughing as he burnt them all. This wasn't the boy he had grown up with, this was somebody else. This was who the fire had always tried to free.

The sound of the flames was in his ears. He couldn't hear his yells, although he could feel them as they ripped through his throat. The ring of fire around them kept trying to creep in closer, heat scalding his skin as it tried to freeze to save him.

His best friend was a complete stranger. Pure emotion, pure fire, pure power. Not John. The idea of a John destroyed and controlled by his own powers cut through him more than anything else. The mere thought…burnt. How ironic.

It hurt. It all hurt.

He felt as if all he could do was watch Pyro. He took in the wild, manic grin. He made out the lighter, almost consumed in the blaze that it created for its owner. He noticed still more flames leap out, joining the rest.

Abruptly, he saw the exact moment that it all changed. It was like watching a film, as if watching the whole unreal scene unfold in slow motion.

He saw John's body flinch. He saw his eyes suddenly go wide. He saw the expression change so quickly from joy to shock. He saw the raging inferno flare up, as if in distress. He saw a single trickle of blood begin to escape out of the corner of his mouth, matching the trail from a swiftly visible bullet hole…

And then, horribly, nightmarishly, he watched St. John Allerdyce crumple to the ground and lie there. As still as the dead.

Author's Notes: Okay, before I say anything… Let's see, I have a hard hat, armour and I'm hiding under that greatest protection of all (albeit from communists with nuclear weapons), a school desk. I should survive for a bit longer…

Okay, let me make this perfectly straight: I DO NOT HATE JOHN. Not like that'll make a difference though. Sheesh, I'm going to have to hand in my I Love John fan club badge at this rate. Not that I have one, but virtually. Spiritually. Metaphorically. Grammatically.

Okay, this chapter actually gets to me quite a lot. Mainly because I wrote most of it in the first place when I either should have been doing English essays/stories or after doing English essays/stories. That means that I was pretty conscious of weird stuff like sentence structures and narrative effect, so I kept trying to do unnecessary stuff. Hence the weird repetition of he saw and stuff like that.

I also discovered that I use certain words way too much. The problem is that I usually can't think of another way of putting it, and none of the thesaurus words fit. So if you think you only just read a word or phrase… You probably just did. Sorry! I dunno, maybe it's the same way I keep having Words for the Day. Just as one example, I said the word trippy at least three times today, when I barely ever use it anyway. Who know?

Nevertheless, this chapter is still a bit of a wonder for me in so many ways. For starters, this is the fastest update I've done since pretty much I started this story. Speaking of which, ADD is now officially over a year old, and it's still going! Just think., one year and I still giggle at its acronym… Maybe because it's still way too appropriate.

Also, this chapter was supposed to be in the same part as the last one… I think I can safely say that it would've been too long though. Still, hold on, because the next chapter's the same length and can't be split into two. Well, it can, but it would be very pointless. And the two parts don't last that well separate.

Finally, this chapter is a pretty significant turning point in the story. The next one too, but it's still based around this one event. Basically, from here on it's getting more slashy and much more angsty. (But it was already sort of angsty! I hear you cry with my supersonic hearing. Anybody who's ever read at least Frozen Over will know that I can go MUCH more angsty than this. Which I will). So, that's something to look forward to, ne?

I also noticed that I've never done a proper disclaimer for this thing. So, one year on, I have no claim on any of the characters in this story, as they belong to whoever gets them in the complex law case. Probably Marvel. …Hopefully Marvel. However, every now and again I will admit to stealing Bobby and John to hide in my house. I mean… I borrow them! They come of their own free will! …This isn't helping me…

Ack, why are my notes always so long? It's thanking time!

tanya: Yeah, poor Bobby. One of these days I'll figure out why I seem to love being mean to him so much.

mari: #collapses# Yay! My first innuendo! Wait, is that good? I'm going to say it's good. And I'm glad to hear you enjoy Charles' playing around with minds, since I enjoy writing it. Although it's starting to move onto Magneto too. And I love your point about John and Rogue! It makes sense! And we're about to find out just how dangerous Bobby can be, actually.

Anei Aikouka: Thankyou! I'm trying really hard not to have a delay like that again, but it's nice to hear that you still like it!

rry: #sheepish expression# Um…Yeah. I feel really bad about the slow update, if that helps? Wait, slow is too nice a word… Practically non-existent? Yeah, that works. Anyways, don't worry, the one thing I can guarantee is that Bobby is not going to re-join the X-Men. Besides, after the next chapter, I doubt they'd really want him… I dunno if you'd call either of them crazy in the end, but it should still be fun to write. And sleepovers are always good. Especially when I can't be bothered to get out of my sleeping bag and everyone says I look silly bouncing around in it… It's fun, dammit!

Serious Fan: Glad you liked Mystique's line. That scene wasn't originally in there, but I thought it needed an extra bit, and it was very fun to write. She just keeps sneaking her way in, like with weird relatives and photos…

JustAnAmateur: Okay, can I just say that I love the idea of anybody describing any type of sarcasm as bubbly? Although it is true, I've noticed that… I really appreciated the push, I think most of my stories tend to die because I lose interest or it feels like nobody particularly cares about them. Usually the first, since I'm an accomplished procrastinator and all. Don't worry about trying to write in a particular way, and your reviews are kinda long anyways, so don't feel like you have to change them! I promise I wouldn't gloat if I get full marks, but that gives me something to aim for, right? And a time limit I kept to! Amazing!

Firerose: Yup, you spelt it right, congratulations. I do have fun trying to imagine how Bobby and John would look like to the older people, since in the end they're pretty focused on picking sides, no matter what they say. And with the pervy Mystique, that's how she always seemed in the movies to me, so it felt okay. After all, anybody who wanders around naked clearly doesn't seem to care about certain things… Like pneumonia.

Solo Maxwell-Yamato: I love Rogue, I really do, and I love letting her do the things that they should have let her do in the movies. Wow, I hope you found Europe fun. Did you go to England, or does that not count? Sorry for keeping you up though. I'm always worried I get carried away with the chess stuff, but it seems so important for Magneto and Xavier, at least in the first two movies.

Silent Angel 1291: Yes, technically you didn't review the last chapter, but where else am I supposed to put this? And slow updates are no stranger to me. In fact, neither are Never-Happening updates. It's really not a good habit for me… but not lazy! Definitely not lazy! I don't tend to bother with watching fics, I just go and do a hunt every now again… Only then I forget what I'm looking for and where I was, so it's probably not such a good system. Ha, the ADD acronym strikes back! I hadn't really thought about doing Rogue/Logan, though they are cute. Unfortunately, she's pretty focused on Bobby, so it's going to stay at the father/daughter stage. Ah, 2am alternate voices… So good to hear that it's not just me. And if I just discouraged you from writing about Bobby in a dress, then please ignore this update. And I love long reviews. And see? You get a long reply right back!

Hmm, a growing amount of this story is the thankyous… Maybe I should just give up and make the whole thing much shorter… But I'd feel so mean!

So, don't expect every chapter to be uploaded this quickly. I'm not at school and I have a deadline, since I wanted to get this up before going on holiday, or else it's be an extra two weeks…

Still, see you next chapter, guys! It's the one I've been wanting to write since the start. In fact, it's over half of the original idea. The3 plot's got bigger since then though, so don't get your hopes up. See you then!

(Note: The weird title was my friend's idea, after I told her that I wrote most of John's bit to Walk Through the Fire, a song from Buffy's Once More With Feeling episode.)