Alone was how he liked to be. There was really no one that could dig him out of the hole that time had buried him in so ruthlessly. John was completely convinced that no one on Earth was going through as much pain as he was. Who had been tricked into falling in love? Who had been deceived by someone? Who... who had lost all hope?
What he didn't realize, was that many people were feeling just like him at that exact moment. So many people at that very second were balling their eyes out, immersing themselves in sorrow for one reason or another. Either their spouse had died or another loved one. A person or thing very dear to them was lost forever. A teenage girl sobbed uncontrollably in her cold room as her beige carpet turned red from one simple mistake- a slip of the hand.
A misunderstood boy laid alone in his room somewhere, not knowing what to do next. His mind ached with possibilities, yet none seemed good enough... or bad enough. He had no friends, his parents hated him, and he was a freak. But he did not cry, he did not scream, for someday he prayed that things would be better. One day he knew that people would accept him and love him for who he was. Or maybe... maybe he would be doomed to be hated for eternity.
Each of these scenarios ran through St. John Allerdyce's mind. His years of poetry had invaded his conscious and now drove him into insanity. Being so deep, thinking far too much was his curse. And yet... he used to be the shallowest person in he world. How could that have been? But he soon forgot about it and refocused on his self-pity. He didn't care about anyone else at the moment. All he cared about was himself.
Wasn't that okay?
He wished that he could meet someone who had it worse than him just so he could feel like he was worth something. He knew there were more people with awful lives.
One of them was behind him.
"I know 'ow you're feelin', Pyro," Gambit's voice said. "I, too, 'ave lost someone very important to moi."
John wanted to turn around and yell at the Cajun, but he found himself unable. Every ounce of him poured thickly from his body and was soaked up into his bed sheets or the floor, being hidden from him; he couldn't react. Quietly, he let Gambit approach him and sit next to him on the bed.
"I am in non place to give you advice," Remy started, "but I feel like we are in de same ship. Maybe..."
But before Gambit could finish, John had began to speak. His voice was cryptic and slow, almost painful to listen to as he whispered every bit.
"Do you know what it's like to lose control? To just break free of the constrictions around you and lose your mind? It happens to me; it happens all the time. I hurt people. I murder people. And I can't stop. I can't stop..."
John's voice began to shake and tears welled up in his eyes. Suddenly, his face began to sting as each teardrop fell down his cheeks and rolled over his trembling lips.
"I... I'm not in control. I give in every time and people get hurt. I'm not like this, Remy, I'm not! I can be better... I can change... I can be in control!"
"So what's stopping you?"
Allerdyce found his hands raking through his hair. For a moment he appeared to be melancholy, as he was before, but now his voice was coated with absolute hatred as he spoke:
"You."
Without warning, Pyro grabbed Gambit by the neck and shoved him against a wall. The victim screamed with pain as they collided sharply with the barrier; Gambit's red on black eyes sealed shut upon impact and every muscle in his body tensed.
"What are you doing?" He managed to gasp, as Pyro had his fist clenched tightly around Gambit's throat.
"Something I should have done a long time ago. I didn't see it before, but I see it now. I'm not as stupid as you think I am."
Roughly, John took his other hand and smacked Remy across the face, leaving a red imprint of his hand.
"Feel familiar?" The teenager asked spitefully. "Or do you want some more to refresh your memory?"
Four more strikes touched the victim's face, each drawing a tear from the closed eyes.
"Why won't you open your eyes, Gambit, afraid of what I might see? I have an idea! Why don't you shock me with your POWERS, HUH?!"
SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!
Pyro continued to slam his victim into the wall. Repeatedly he did this, until he felt like the other mutant had had enough. He let him sink to the floor in a silent heap. In a fit of rage, Pyro picked up his foot and violently kicked the mutant below him; each impact made him even more angry.
"Show yourself, damn it! Show me what I know you are!"
The heap on the floor began to sob, its entire body shaking as it did so. John tried to see its face, but it cowered in the corner, afraid of being attacked again.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" Pyro screamed.
Slowly, finally, the figure stirred and turned to face its assaulter. Its face, Gambit's face, was swollen and red; tears streamed freely down its face. Blood began to slid from the corners of Remy's thin lips; his skin was ghostly pale. The eyes, however, remained shut.
"Open your eyes," John instructed.
"No," the mutant said quietly.
This only made Pyro furious. He immediately fell to the floor and jerked the hands away from the mutant in front of him. Struggling, he finally wrestled his opponent's hands down and held them to their sides. Their faces inches apart, the two mutants had no choice but to breath each other's recycled air as they recovered from their struggle. John still grasped the other pair of hands tightly, refusing to let them free. Nothing was getting away from him ever again. He spoke; this time, his voice was still stern, but he didn't yell.
"Open your eyes."
Cautiously, the figure's eyelids began to shake. It seemed as if the eyelashes weighed a drastic amount as they were pulled upward. Finally, Pyro was able to see what he had known was always there. He felt himself die inside; right there, his insides churned and his stomach knotted. His palms that so fiercely held on to the other's hands, clammed up. Mouth dry, heart racing, he faced his very dream and most haunting nightmare.
One pair of yellow eyes.
