MOIRA & XAVIER

"John was not a welcome child - from a young age, he was obviously different to other members of his family. He was born in Australia in to a family of surfers. Cliché perhaps, but it was how things were. His parents were professional surfers and both siblings near prodigy. He on the other hand...he was scared of the water. He would rather sit out with those looking on than swim. I think it was probably his siblings allowing him to watch Jaws as a toddler. It was probably one of the few times they were around him - he was far younger than them and so more a source of annoyance than anything else."

"His parents did not start out as in any way abusive. For the first few years he could do no wrong. After all, all children had a little reservation when it came to water. His aversion though did not fade as he grew older. He became a tag along - the mascot left on the beach for his curls and bright smile. He was a happy child...but it wasn't to last."

"They grew impatient with him and started leaving him behind, or with friends and relatives scattered around where they went. He was a child - no more than three when he was first left. He remembers being shut in a room for the three days he was there. It happened time and again...every time they left him, he was shut away whilst the world went on without him. It didn't work when they had to go out the country though. They couldn't leave him without losing him."

"At least they cared enough to not abandon him."

"Did they? You see...the international circuits carried too much pull. He was still young when they started to travel – no more than five, maybe six years old. He was left with his siblings when they weren't surfing, and near strangers watching on the beaches when there was no-one else. He learnt to look after himself, simply because there was no-one else. His siblings would leave him behind if he couldn't keep up, or sometimes simply leave...they didn't want him around, he was a source of annoyance after all. The child that couldn't and wouldn't surf, tagged along to sit around and watch, stole the limelight when he was around."

"It sounds like a normal sibling jealousy"

"Yes, but they would take it too far. Jealousy should never include abandoning the youngest. It should never include purposely humiliating them. It should never include trying to drown them. It should never include locking them in a room and leaving them there. They abandoned him and returned to Sydney without him. He would have been seen as an illegal immigrant had he made himself known to any sort of authority."

"Why did they abandon him?"

"Because his powers emerged. He was still so young – he was ten when they first showed. For four years, he'd been dragged around and left in one place or another with people he hardly knew. Regularly beaten by the eldest of his siblings – a sister. He never did disclose her name...and I wasn't going to push him for it. She was the first to be scarred though – a hand print on her shoulder blade. He was angry with her and had enough of the beatings. He had had enough of being abandoned and ignored. Treated like a plaything. When his parents found out though..."

"They didn't take too kindly to it, did they?"

"No Moira. Unfortunately not. Though, maybe it was fortunate – he had not been in that one place for so long, we may never have found him. I remember coming across him for the first time. No child should have been in the state he was. Fourteen and already far beyond his years. Forced to beg and steal for survival. You saw it in his eyes...there were other acts he was forced in to. Other acts he could not and would not admit to himself, let alone anyone else. They haunted him...even now I feel they still have a hold over him. He didn't trust when he first came to the institute. He wouldn't eat at the same time as the other students. He wouldn't accept anything offered to him. He was, and still is to some degree, paranoid that it would only hurt him to accept them. I am so sure he was abused...but he would never open up when asked about those years he spent running. He would shut up and refuse to talk any more. The first time I pushed him...he lost his temper. He lost control and sparked a small fire within the office – small, but it spread quickly. He put us both in danger. I knew then he wasn't ready to tell me everything."

"You mentioned to me once that these sessions...you kept hold of his lighter. How did he..."

"After the first reaction, I placed a block within his mind. It was to stay there until he was calmer. For his own good and for those around him. He broke down after the first incident...said he didn't want it any more. He wanted it to no longer be a part of who he was. So, for the sake of his own mind and the safety of those around him I-"

"You shackled him."

"Not quite Moira. Of course, this is only what he's told me, and only brief. I would not delve any further than I was wanted, and I do believe you're nearly ready for our departure, are you not?"

Something didn't quite add up, but then again...it had been an odd day. For example, the first sight to meet her eyes was an empty bed. She had, at first panicked...assumed the worst. However, she was proven otherwise at the sound of his voice. And his insistence on leaving for Mississippi as soon as they were able to. Something about an emergency. He hadn't been too specific. He was still not using his physical voice, still in a wheelchair...but that would be down to such a long disuse. She just couldn't understand why he was so insistent, didn't get why it couldn't wait another few days. Still...it wasn't really like she could say no to him. She could try, but he'd always win out in the end.

LOGAN

"Kid was always angry, but not dangerous. Not really. Stupid, a little reckless, trouble magnet. Could go on, but he wasn't dangerous. I would never put dangerous on that list." Pausing, I sipped at my drink, aware that the pool cues were going down and the TV was being ignored. Turned down, even. The screen flickered away with it's lies – happy, healthy kids. Brainwashed and restrained. I hated it...did these people not have hearts? Did they not understand the desperate inner need to be free? In the long run, those kids would suffer under that regime.

"John was...troubled. You could tell by the way he walked, the way he talked, the way he'd keep it zipped...damaged I guess. He had a habit of over reacting. He had problems with authority figures. He hated people mothering him. He hated people pushing him for...anything. He hated relying on people. I think he generally hated people." There was a slight chuckle to his voice. Yeah, firebug was troubled all right. Hot headed and wild in most peoples eyes – they just didn't know how to handle someone who reacted like that. Storm won him over in the end...took her a long time, but he caved and would occasionally let her comfort him when he was sure no-one was looking. Just like any other teen really.

"Kid didn't open up easy, but I still heard. He wasn't the quietest of sleepers. He had a lot of nightmares when he did sleep...not that he slept all that often. Spent most nights up staring at the walls, playing with that zippo. Gets on your nerves at first, but you learn to tune it out over time. You could hear...he'd toss about and not settle. He'd mutter and talk. Maybe cry, beg for it to end...whatever the hell it was. He'd sleepwalk at the worst of times." There was a snort from one person – I was sure I knew what they were thinking. I didn't need to be the professor to know people in the bar thought I was either bullshitting or exaggerating.

"When he was awake after those nights, he'd look worn down. He spent days not eating. He wouldn't concentrate, but he wouldn't play up either. He was almost subdued...you just couldn't play rough. He'd flip out and throw anything he could at you. If you were unlucky, you'd get burned. You knew when he wasn't good though - it was etched in to him. His eyes were empty and he would age maybe ten years. You could hardly touch him. He sure as hell ain't had life easy...and with people like you, it ain't improving." Draining the last of my drink, I pushed the glass to one side and slid my jacket on, only to pause when interrupted by the first person who'd interjected. Person who'd started this whole thing.

"And that makes it all OK? What he did?" Anger in their voice. Anger and accusation. Nah, he had screwed up...but truth be told, everyone knew that. But unlike this lot, from what I had seen and heard lately, John was trying to change things. This lot though, they were almost too happy to dwell in the past. Almost too happy to be angry with Firebug. It was almost like they didn't care who they were angry with, so long as they were angry with someone for something. Anything.

"No...but he don't need to be punished any more for it. Don't judge when you don't know shit." Freeing the collar from it's self, I tugged on the sleeves one that time and shot one last glare at the speaker before leaving. I had to get to that damn Firebug, and there was one last place I hadn't thought of trying – kid was bound to have found him by now. She had a habit of ending up in the same place as him. Besides, it'd been a while since I'd seen her, what with Christmas coming up fast, seemed like pretty perfect timing. Besides, if she wasn't at her apartment, I could always track her. Sure, it mean breaking a speed limit or two on the way, but it would be worth it. It'd been too long and I'd been stuck in this bar too long.

KITTY, STORM & JUBILEE

"After Alcatraz, he was taken to this facility. This documentary...it doesn't show anything. Not what really went on behind closed doors. Didn't follow them after their release. God, that place scarred him just as badly...your heart feels like it'll break when you hear everything. They beat him there. Beat him, chained him up, drugged him. Threatened his life if he didn't start conforming." Jubilee spoke first, staring in to her lap and wringing her hands – as much as she hated what he had done, as much as she thought he was an ass...you just couldn't help but sympathise when you knew what he'd been through.

Silence in the car would have killed most people, but it seemed fitting. True, it was tense...but it was right. Emotions always seemed to run high when you reflected on this story. So few knew it, which probably made it all the more potent. The darkness faded and light flooded the seating area – when this topic came up, the decision was made...they just had to switch to the jet. First off, it would save time. Secondly, it would be quicker. Plus, you didn't get autopilot with cars. Gods knew it would be needed this time travelling down there.

"After his release, he found his way back to New York. It was school holidays, so the students weren't at the institute...most others were off doing one thing or another. Visiting friends, gone for a picnic, out shopping...normal day to day things. I got a call from the ER room at one of the local hospitals. They'd found him. He had...oh God, he'd..." I could feel the crack in my voice, thought it should have been expected...this always happened when I dwelt on it for too long. Dropping my head, I wished I could erase the images from my head.

I should have been there...I should have been able to help him. I never should have let him go for so long. Anyone could have seen it coming. I know Jean would have never forgiven herself, and the Professor would have felt the same pain, even if he never spoke of it. Despite what other may have felt, the three of us...those who found him first...we knew. And we would never forget that small bundle of fear...all skin and bones. When you had seen him like that, you could never fear him, nor could you hate him. Well, not really.

"You got to his apartment and there was blood...everywhere. Blood and drink. No food, just alcohol filling his cupboards. Alcohol and pills. He'd changed so much. He said it kept things quiet – kept the wrong thoughts from his mind. Better a hopeless drunk cutter than a murderous bastard, in his words. He was so skinny, I didn't know how he'd made it that far without getting really sick. Some of the nurses had refused to treat him, because they knew his face. Others because of the other scars...said something about treating self harmers as a waste of time and money. He would have died if Dr McCoy hadn't been visiting...you could see, in his eyes. He was..." She was struggling – like myself, Jubliee just couldn't find the words to describe how he had been that day. He sat and almost rocked himself back and forth. They were faint movements, like those of a man verging on madness. He had sat and stared at walls the entire time he had been in the mansion. He hadn't fought against any attempt to help him, but he hadn't done anything to aid the treatment either. How did you describe that?

"He was empty. Right?" It was the first time Kitty had said anything, and you could hear the guilt in her voice. Guilt that she'd been so quick to jump to conclusions. Guilt that she hadn't paid greater attention to him. Guilt that she had been so very angry with him.

"Yeah...he was empty. No, not quite empty. But...he wasn't John. He wasn't Pyro either. It was terrifying though. Whatever he'd become, we didn't know how to deal with him. The professor might have been able to reach him. Or, maybe Jean...but he was beyond us. And we did try...dear god we tried. For a good week or two, we pushed him for some sort of response. Hell, I think we would've been happy even if he had to burn the place down – at least then we would have known where we'd stood." Oh yes, how I remember that. Jubilee clearly remembered it just as well as I did. It had been hard seeing him like that – true, it wasn't the first time...but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

"It wasn't the first time he'd tried. There were scars on his arms already. Oh god...so many scars. All of them looked so deep and so angry. He wouldn't even look at me when I spoke to him. He just kept on staring at the wall in front of him. I begged him to stay...begged him to come back to the institute and stay this time. I swore blind no-one would judge him. No-one would hate him. I swore we'd help him. But...he wouldn't. He said he couldn't stay, not after what he'd done. Said no-one would want him there and that he didn't blame them for it...all that hate, turned inwards. All that open condemnation...he said he'd had enough of it. He didn't want any more. All he wanted was a quiet life...but you know John. He never did anything quietly." Was that a chuckle? Yes...only a slight one, but I just could not help myself. He'd always been so impatient and wild, just like the fire he controlled.

No, and that is what had concerned me the most. John didn't like silence...John didn't like quiet. He liked noise and chaos – it kept his mind focused on anything but himself. It was why he had excelled beyond any and all expectation in danger room sessions, and it was most likely the reason, or one of the reasons, why he'd opted to join the brotherhood. Rather than sitting back and waiting for the fight to come to him, he'd go looking for the fight.

"He spoke of how his past was repeating itself. This hell would end, only to be replaced with a cage, the cage would go and he'd fall again. He said he didn't want it. He didn't want to go through it all again. He didn't want that any more. He didn't want to be hurt, and he didn't want to hurt anyone. He just wanted it all to go away. He wanted to sleep and never have to wake up again...because he was safe that way. He was safe and everyone else was safe from him. He really had come to view himself as some sort of monster. He was convinced there was no helping him...better to strip him of it all." There was a sadness in her voice as she went back wringing her hands and picking at her jeans. Jubilee had been so horrified at his comment. At first she hadn't really understood – but then again, she had viewed the institute as a new chance rather than a final option. She hadn't known the hurt he had. She hadn't hurt anyone quite as much as she had. She hadn't been through hell – not next to John. Sure, things hadn't been easy after her parents passed away...but at least they'd loved her. At least she'd been wanted.

"I don't..." Kitty didn't need to finish – none of us had understood at first. None of us wanted to understand, because it just wasn't the John we knew and loved. Her voice gave away her confusion...the same confusion we'd all experienced when he first admitted it to us.

He'd been so weak, so unable to cope with his ability. As the cure started to fade from his system, he grew sick. It was almost like watching a junkie going in to withdrawal, and as much as I hated to think about it, that was probably exactly what it was. He'd begged and pleaded to find it. He'd insisted he'd die without it. Days he spent in tears, clawing at sheets, tossing and turning. He lost far too much weight in that time – not that he'd had much to him in the first place. He was genuinely sick. Unable to keep down even liquids, he ended up on drips in some desperate attempt to stop him from slipping away from us. Eventually though, the toll grew too much and Hank agreed to it – for his own good. There was still too much in the way of the psychological need for it...in all honesty, looking back, it was easy to see that he had been an addict.

"This clinic...they'd talked him in to taking the cure he so hated. They had him broken and running scared from what he was. Even if he couldn't admit it, most everyone who saw him knew the truth. That look in his eyes...there was no denying it." Jubilee...my word, she sounded broken, just at the thought of seeing his pain. I could only hope and pray that somehow he'd be OK and get over it. That somehow, he was ready for this.

"If he doesn't want any of this, then why are we going to see him? I mean, I know we're going to see Rogue as well, but..." It was a fair question – she didn't know. She hadn't been in the room during those discussions. She didn't know what they did.

"Because Erik has concerns...there has been an information leak – they've changed the make-up of the cure. It's not a suppressant any more. It's a poison. They plan on killing them off, one by one. Why do you think so many from the clinic have vanished already? Some dead, others in asylums. Erik has sworn blind that he can get through to John, if we can find him. He's done it once already – a young mutant by the name of Emma. He tried to get to others...to protect them, but he's lost so many already. Those he's known and taken under his wing...worked to help and protect." I knew that pain – the pain of losing those who had wormed their way in to your heart and just wouldn't let go.

"And you're going to let him near John? Thinking on everything that's just been said. Doesn't that seem a little crazy?" Had Kitty not been listening? After all that had just been said...was she still so hesitant? They needed

"Maybe...but I'd sooner have John rejoin the brotherhood than dead. At least that way we have a chance of bringing him back on side. How are we supposed to do that if he's already dead?" Silence...well, that had put her in her place, but Jubilee had a point. Better the enemy than dead.

JOHN & MARIE

"They just...they didn't want me. They never wanted me. I meant nothing to them, and then for me to be this...this freak. It was just..." Burying his head in his hands, a shudder in his shoulders was the only evidence of where he was going. "They couldn't take it. They didn't want me. And then there was Xavier's...it was just..."

What was I supposed to do? Hesitating for a moment, I patted his shoulder before reaching over and pulling him in to a hug. Most others I would have been able to deal with so far as tears went, but this was Pyro. He wasn't supposed to cry, he was supposed to scold me for being so silly and crying over something petty. He was supposed to be full of fire and life...not this hopeless defeated shell of a man at my side. He wasn't supposed to be the one desperately seeking comfort from another. He was supposed to spurn Me and make me feel two inches tall, after all that was what Pyro did. Pyro hated what I was...but then again, he wasn't really Pyro any more, was he?

Yeah, that's right...this was John, and I wasn't sure how to deal with John. Not any more at least.

Burying his head in to my neck, his arm snaked around her waist, dragging me closer and molding my body to his. Maybe it was a little forward of him...so why didn't I react against it? Reject him like he would me were the roles reversed. Though the shaking was less and his sobs quieter, My neck was growing wetter with each tiny strand of time that he remained that way. In all the years that I had known him, I had never known John to be this vulnerable...not without that angry front of his. Well, angry or cocky. Both if you were unlucky.

I didn't expect his next move though; his lips sought out mine, nose still wet brushing over my cheek. Locking down, his grip around my waist tightened and the pressure built. Part of me wanted to stop it, to let him get his head right...but he was so insistent...so urgent and hungry. Passionate. So very sweet, but with something hinting at the choking smoke of fire. It wasn't like the chill of Bobby...it was smoother, headier. And for some insane, unknown reason I wanted more. So much more. I wanted that searing taste to remain there for as long as I was awake. I knew wanted this...dear God did I ever want it. There was no denying how my body was reacting. Those demands...pushing my blood to a boiling point...my heart was racing and the pressure changed, driving me in to the bed and away from sensibility.

God knew this was needed.

And after a long time away, I am back! Life got crazy...sorry about that. I can't even explain why it got so crazy so quickly. I think this is probably my twelfth attempt at sitting down, just to finish off a few paragraphs here and there so I could post it. But, I think I got my rhythm back down now. I might be able to get a new chapter up every other week, if not every week. You shouldn't have to wait nearly 6 months ever again.

Crazy4horses – I did look in to it, and it's a wonderful series...I just struggle to find any of the books where I live. Seriously...I need to move.

Maiqu – Awesome! Have a cookie. Unfortunately, I only have the slightly burned vegan ones I made earlier for a friend. They're still chocolate chip though...and it's only the very edge that's burned, I swear!

I own nothing, those right belong to all respective companies; characters, locations etc. None of them are mine, save for the few OC's who have started popping up. The remaining characters belong to Marvel and so I would simply never be able to afford to buy them.

This remains unbetaed so all mistakes are a result of me not paying enough attention whilst proof reading. I am still looking for a beta, please feel free to volunteer either yourself or suggest this to someone if you think they might be interested