DISCLAIMER: None of this is mine so just back off.

(Anon godess darlin', I don't know if this qualifies as getting it on but they're getting something on XD rogue-scholar07, thanks a lot; LadyMageLuna, here's your solution; RogueMoon, keep reviewing and I'll be happy; tfobmv18, thank you and I hope you enjoy this; cougarrose47 - heeeeeeeres Jonda!; TitansRule, let us all bash Scooter, for he is annoying and should be shot - and here's a little something!; Laceylou76, it's about to get a whole lot softer babycakes; Irual, baby I promise I've been behaving but I had to put this up so please enjoy it and now I am off to rest my hands, I swear, I really am!; dragonfly422, wow, you overdosing on my crap makes me feel all tingly - oh, wait, the anaesthetic's wearin' off, shite - but seriously, I'm flattered, hope you keep enjoying it and keep reviewing, that would be nice^^; To my dear AshmandaLC, this happily ever after is my delivering for you being a love, so review my crap and I'll love you as long as you can stand it..? Let me know, all of you, and have a very metal day.)


~ Scarlet Letter ~

Nothing Else Matters.

~*****************************************************************~

She stood by the door, waiting, her heart feeling like it had magically expanded and lodged in the vicinity of her upper throat. She felt sure if she opened her mouth it would try to escape and make it's way over to the tousled Aussie on the bed. Best to stay silent. She crossed her arms a little more forcefully than she had intended but winced and had to loosen the stance and let her arms fall uselessly back to her sides, hoping he hadn't noticed. He narrowed his eyes as though angry but the look in them didn't seem to be one of anger. It was compassion.

"Wanda... Come 'ere," he said, and she bit her lip and lowered her head.

"Fine like this," she said quietly and he made an impatient noise and said,

"Suit y'self Rorschach, but y' can' hide forever." She looked up at him and saw that he looked worried more than anything else despite the tone of his voice and she mumbled, almost to herself,

"'M not hiding anything..." He reached out a hand to her, his gaze steady and soft.

"Luv, come 'ere... Please..." Her feet acted of their own volition carrying her towards him while she silently cursed this weird ability he had to make her body disobey her wishes and instead override the official position she'd chosen to take in favour of what she really felt she ought to do. He took her hand and pulled lightly, and she sat down beside him, her arms limp but held at a weird angle to prevent them from resting against anything. He kept his grip on her hand and placed his other on top of it, fingers just slightly brushing up under the edge of her sleeve and she hadn't the time to pull away before he'd tightened his grip so that she couldn't without painful consequences and he'd rolled her sleeve up enough to see the soft white bandages on her arm. She jerked away but her arm accidentally banged against his in the process and she cried out in pain. The look on his face changed again, this time to concern, and she fought the tears that stung at her eyes.

"Oh, Wanda... Darlin'..." Had he called her that before? She didn't think so. It was having a most disconcerting effect on her, the tears were escaping her control and she felt an overwhelming urge to be held and comforted. To explain.

"I – I could feel them – the needles – when I was remembering – I just – I wanted them to go away, I – " She swallowed and continued.

"I didn't notice until after – Dr McCoy told me I scratched them, told me he'd bandaged them. I didn't notice it hurt until this morning... I didn't want any of you to see, they'll just worry..." John nodded.

"The sleeves. I knew."

"How could you..?" He ran his finger ever so gently over her forearm and she shivered.

"When y' were asleep... They bled through. Doesn't show up on red until after, you were too gone t' notice." She looked away. The nightie, obviously. He would have seen the marks. She'd thought he hadn't noticed that, but he had, apparently.

"You – you were watching me?" He bit his lip as though regretting the admission.

"I couldn' sleep luv."

"Oh..." He moved his hands but she held on to them and he relaxed and let her.

"Wanted ta make sure y' were alrigh'," he added, and she shook her head.

"You stayed up on purpose?" He shrugged.

"Fel' like it," he said vaguely, and she nodded, not understanding in the slightest. Why would he do that? Why would he bother with something like that, deny himself rest to watch her?

"What?" he asked quietly, and she fiddled with his hands.

"Why – why would you do that? You didn't have to do that, I didn't ask you to!" she blurted out, and he smiled.

"Y' were in a strange house, hurt an' upset, y' wanted ta go home an' y' couldn', y' were feelin' bad enough ta wan' ta curl up ta this an' I didn' trust any of those bastards ta look after ya properly if I had a kip," he explained, self-deprecation warring with gentle concern in his voice, and she felt agitated, shaking her head again, hands moving over his jerkily, as though the fingers were stiff.

"You didn't have to do that – I was fine – I am fine – I'm okay now – " she mumbled, and he lifted a hand to her face and wiped away the tears that she hadn't noticed were silently trickling down her cheeks.

"Wanda... shhh, darlin', don' do that... Y' don' have ta pretend righ' now..." he said, so quietly she almost thought she'd misheard the endearment although she certainly felt the warmth that coursed through her as he said it.

"I'm so tired of crying, I'm so tired of being afraid, I want to be angry, I want to be angry again," she whispered, and he rested his forehead against hers for a moment, smiling bitterly, his one hand holding onto both of hers in her lap, the other resting in the hollow of her neck, his fingers absently stroking her deathly pale skin. She wondered briefly if he was in fact made of fire, he felt so warm...

"Wanda, we can' be angry all the time – I know it helps but it isn' righ'... You're too beautiful ta be so angry, luv. And I know you're afraid – ya don' have ta hide it if it's too hard. No one else has to see it darlin' but please don' pretend when it's jus' me... Not when I know the truth..." She looked down, at their clasped hands and saw scratch marks marring his skin, puzzled until it dawned on her. Pulling away with a cry she grabbed both of his hands and held them up to see what she'd done, she had done that, hurt him again when she'd promised herself, promised she'd never hurt anyone ever again –

"I'm so sorry!" she gasped, unable to keep touching him, stay this close when she'd done something like that, been weak enough to break that promise. Breaking away from him she made to get up but he held on to her and kept her where she was. She'd never realised how much stronger than her he actually was. Usually no one was stronger than her. Wanda the unreachable, the untouchable, the Class A Bitch.

"Stop strugglin' luv, y' not goin' anywhere," he said firmly, and she froze, at once ready to hex him for daring to speak to her like that and agreeing with him that this was the best place for her. Her mouth opened but she couldn't speak.

"Y – your hands, John – " she managed weakly, but he interrupted, cradling hers in his and forcing her to lean closer to him.

"I don' care, Wanda, I don' give a toss abou' anythin' righ' now that isn' you – y' not leavin' an' I forbid y' ta give a crap about anythin' ya do ta me, ya don' ever, ever get ta feel guilty when I'm aroun'!" he said, his eyes flashing, and she stared at him. She'd never thought she'd find anyone attractive angry and sleep-tousled and insistent when she was used to having her own way with everything and being around people who walked on eggshells to avoid her wrath, but she did. Gods, but she did.

"I – " for all he was holding her so close to him and sounding so harsh, he wasn't hurting her at all, quite the contrary. He was carefully avoiding her arms and his fingers gave way to hers whenever she moved.

"Wanda..." She closed her eyes and shut off the sight of him, not wanting to see him looking at her the way he was, not wanting to admit that she wanted to not feel guilty with him.

"Wanda, please," he said, and she had to look at him.

"What do you want from me, John? I don't even know why I'm still here..."

"Maybe ya don' really wan' ta leave? I can' let ya go when y' like this luv. I need you ta understand."

"I don't understand anything! I don't understand why my father left me to rot in an asylum, I don't understand how he can just say he's repented and come back to stay with the X-freaks and everything's fine and dandy again like he's not the monster I know he is, I don't understand all these things in my head, I don't understand why I let you touch me or why I can't feel angry, I don't understand anything anymore!" His eyes were as soft as his voice.

"I know, luv. And I can' explain it all to ya. The only thing I can tell you is that yer Dad's a worthless piece o' shit f' what he did to ya – no one should ever have been allowed to do that to ya. There ain' a thing wrong with you, Wanda, an' you know it. Your Dad was scared shitless of you, did ya know that?" She shook her head dumbly, not knowing what to do in the face of his clear desire to help her, the burning of his eyes.

"Ya remember the bridge?" She flinched and he allowed her to, the self-loathing on his face staying her.

"You – you led me to him – I almost fell off..." The realisation that he had done that, been responsible for that, hit her and she felt suddenly afraid.

"I hate myself for ever agreein' ta work for that psycopathic bastard luv – I can' ask ya t' forgive me for what I did that day, but will y' let me explain?" She nodded. She wanted him to be innocent so badly, wanted him to admit to being possessed or something, anything that wasn't an admission of his guilt, his participation in the cause... He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to her hands which he absently stroked while he spoke, his voice low and hard.

"Your Dad – may he rot in hell – found me after I got out of jail down under," he said, and at her questioning look he grimaced.

"Can I tell y' abou' that some other time? Ya gonna hate me enough for this as it is..." She bit her lip, and her fear must have showed in her eyes because his face softened and he sighed.

"I was doin' a stint f' comittin' arson that led ta the injury and a few deaths of roughly fifteen people. They put me through the DJJ process – Department of Juvenile Justice," he explained when she parted her lips to ask, and she closed them again, needing to know everything.

"Anyhow, they put me through that but I was... uncooperative. Couldn' function along with the others. They got me evaluated an' profiled an' put me on a bunch o' pills. I don't remember a whole lot from that time but apparently I wasn'... wasn' easy ta control..." there was a distant look in his eyes and his voice grated as though he were forcing himself through this, and her heart went out to him – made her ache to hold him and tell him she knew, knew just how it felt, knew how much it hurt, how frightening it was.

"I... They had ta put me in isolation. Couldn' risk lettin' me in ta the others. I was in Kariong – that's where they put all the nasty cases, all the bad eggs – an' they were afraid of lettin' me in with all the rest! Then they decided ta move me ta some special psychiatric reassessment malarkey... I thought I was gonna die - I don' do well in the cold an' they couldn' let me go outside – an' I was all alone..." He took another deep breath and continued.

"They took me ta see some shrink, no idea why they thought that would work out... Anyway, my sentence was gonna be a long one – wouldn' have been out yet if I hadn' left, they woulda shifted me on ta bigger more prisony things – an' I don' think they'd explained the rules ta this shrink Sheila, 'cause when I got there she was in 'er office smokin'..." Wanda breathed in sharply at the change in his eyes, the hatred she saw there truly frightened her, and his voice lowered to a whisper.

"Place went up in two minutes. Found that out after... That's all it took, jus' two minutes... I didn' – I couldn' control it, I was so angry... I don' know if I woulda even tried if I'd been able ta..."

"John..." she said, not knowing why, just feeling that she had to express the extent of her understanding somehow, and he looked at her with something akin to tenderness in his face.

"I'm not like you, darlin'. I'm not misunderstood. I'm not a good person deep down, deep down is where I keep the monsters an' they don' like bein' let out. I had control then, over my powers, jus' not over my emotions an' that fed the fire, so ta speak. I was too angry ta stop an' I jus'... I couldn' go back ta that... It woulda killed me luv. I know what it's like ta want things you ain' proud of afterwards. I wan'ed them all dead. I admit that..."

"You think I don't wish I could maim every single orderly who ever injected me or forced pills down my throat? The ones who would hose me down because they didn't trust me to shower on my own, they used to laugh at me, call me names... The braver ones used to do more than just that... If I could, I'd kill them all, I hope they all die of cancer and if I ever meet them on the street I won't hesitate to bury them in a heartbeat, John... Please don't hate yourself for hating them..." He raised his hand to brush her hair back and it lingered on her face.

"You're defendin' what I did an' ya don' even know what I was in jail for in the firs' place... Not jus' gorgeous on the outside, are ya luv?" His tone was bittersweet and she held his hand in place against her cool cheek, leaning in to the touch.

"Tell me what you were in for then." He sighed.

"Stickin' my head in where I shouldn' 'ave been," he said quietly.

"I was on the streets, got friendly with a nice ol' Sheila one evenin' who said I reminded 'er of 'er little brother who popped 'is clogs... Prossie, 'course, once ya down there ya only got two kinds o' people. She disappeared an' me bein' an idiot I wen' lookin'. Turns out her ol' boss beat her ta death an' when I tracked down the bastard he was gettin' stuck in ta worse 'n that. So I tootled along ta their little club'ouse an' burnt it to the ground..."

"How... Why..." She seemed to be trying to settle on a question and he let her.

"Why did you get caught? I mean... you seem..."

"Smarter 'n that? Now, maybe luv, but that kinda smart comes from experience. I was enough of a tosser ta hang about to enjoy my revenge an' I got caught. Not so smart, eh? So yeah, death an' mayhem. Bi-words f' Pyro..." His hand slipped a little and she held on to it, keeping it pressed against her just above her collarbone.

"They deserved to die, John," she said with a conviction that made her eyes glow, and he smiled at her.

"Y' proud of me now?" he asked, and she knew the taunting lilt to his voice was meant for himself.

"I'm proud of you for surviving that. They shouldn't have prosecuted you for doing what you did. You did the right thing. They would have hurt other people," she said firmly, and he gave her an odd, piercing look.

"But can y' condone me burnin' that shrink's place? Big building, luv... Full o' people... Y' can' defend that one," he said quietly, and her eyes flared with a sudden fierce passion.

"They had locked you up for nothing – they were drugging you and controlling you, stealing your life away! You did what you had to do! They got what they deserved, what they did wasn't right, wasn't fair! If I had been there I'd have cheered you on all the way, don't you ever doubt that! They never listen, people like that never listen – for years I told them, told all of them that I wasn't crazy, that I didn't belong in there and all they'd say was 'of course not dearie' and patronise me but they were all afraid and they should be! We're not crazy and if they choose to ignore that – ignore who we are for what they think we are then they should die! They should all burn!" Her voice cracked and she realised she was snarling, realised that this fire inside her was anger, real, hot, pent-up rage – she felt as though in a way by his actions he had avenged some part of her own suffering even though she hadn't even known about it until now and it felt so good. She knew she'd been right – he wasn't a bad person at all, he'd been wronged just as she had, seen the same hell, burnt the way she had burnt all those years alone –

"You understand, don' you darlin'..?" he asked softly, and she nodded, swallowing some of the fury. It felt so delicious to be angry again. The haze of misery had lifted, instead she felt a fierce pride in the mutant sitting in front of her, so close to her that she was leeching his body heat, felt him breathe. She knew now what Dr McCoy had meant. Someone who understood. Someone who had been there.

"I understand everything," she said, her hand moving to rest over his heart.

"I am proud of you." He smiled a little, making no move to remove her hand, and went on.

"Anyway... When I knew what the hell I was doin' again, I was a wanted man. Couldn' leave the country, couldn' do anythin'. On the run. An' it turns out your Dad had gotten wind of the pyrokinetic freakshow down Oz way an' decided ta come track me down himself. He figured he could offer me a deal – get me outta the country an' make sure they didn't get me, an' in return I'd work for 'im. Do whatever he asked me ta do." She nodded, she could see why he would have taken her father up on his offer. In the same situation she probably would have too.

"Didn' know what he wanted me ta do til we got here an' it turned out he wanted me ta help him an' his merry band o' terrorists. I was done though – told him there was no way I'd hurt anyone again, I never wan'ed t' take anyone's life ever again – I ain' no God, luv. Doesn' matter what the fucker tried ta tell us, having these powers doesn' give us the righ' ta play God over others."

"Then why did you stay..? I know he made you hurt people... All he does is hurt people," she asked, her voice hushed, eyes brimming over with sadness for his plight.

"Can't go back home when y' wanted f' murder, darlin'... And there was nothin' f' me here... One whiff of my details an' they'd have dragged me back to a white cell faster 'n' I could plead guilty." Her hand dropped almost listessly and she lowered her eyes.

"He hurt you, too," she deduced.

"He threatened me. He said I owed him for getting me out of there, loyalty for a life an' all that crap. I told him that was bollocks an' he never asked me ta sign up f' murder when he offered ta take me with him and... He would have turned me in. Bastard actually had the nerve ta put me in a bloody cage. Said he'd send me ta the authorities himself if I didn' shut my mouth an' do as told... I couldn' go back luv. I wasn' strong enough t' say no." The defeat in his eyes and the tone of his voice – the utter self-loathing and disgust he projected over his decision broke something inside her where she hadn't known there was something to break. Without thinking she suddenly had her arms around him, whispering in his ear and holding him to her heart.

"I would have done the same," she breathed,

"I would have done whatever he asked, anything – it wasn't your fault, he screwed you over John, he fucked you just as he did me and we never saw it coming – he's a filthy liar and a coward – I would have done the same!" He put his arms around her waist and held her in return, hiding his face in her hair as she spoke to him – they were so close and her words so quiet that he didn't believe anyone standing right next to them could have deciphered their meaning. He pulled back after a moment and reached up to wipe away two tears from their respective cheeks.

"Don' cry f' me, darlin'... Don' ever do that. It isn' worth it, it's over," he said softly, and she smiled at him, her eyes shimmering in the half light.

"Someone should cry for you, John... Everyone needs someone to cry for them, even us..." He smiled back, sad and bitter but somehow she could see the gratitude behind it all, for what she'd done for him.

"That day, on the bridge?"

"You don't have to – " she started, but he placed a gentle finger over her lips and silenced her protests.

"Wanda, I need you ta know." She nodded, and he went on, his voice rough and managing to warm her in an entirely new way.

"Your Dad... He'd told me a little bit about you. He lied about some of it but I didn' care. I'd already decided that it didn' matter what he said, I'd just assume it was a lie. But I went. I had orders – stop you, destroy you, kill you, he didn' care what I picked but when I saw ya... I couldn' do it luv. I was never gonna hurt ya – I jus' couldn' do it. I staged the destruction, I'm fair at that crap, but I was gonna let ya get away. It wouldn' 'ave mattered much, you're a lot stronger than me no matter how ya tie it an' even without the control ya have now ya coulda taken me down pretty quickly if y' wanted to..." His voice trailed off and she understood why.

"I fell," she said, and he nodded, his eyes meeting hers so full of anguish she almost couldn't bear it.

"Thought y' were done for darlin'... Was that ready ta jump off with ya but I saw y' climb back up an' I knew. I knew I should be helpin' ya. I knew if y' had the help ta make it happen you could finish the ol' bastard off so I decided ta lead ya to 'im..."

"But I thought he asked you to do that..?" John chuckled, a sliver of his almost alter-ego like personality shining through, the half cracked weirdo act. She didn't mind. She had her own defense mechanisms.

"Darlin' when he found out you'd come after me he damn near crapped himself! Course I told 'im I thought you'd done a tumble off the bridge an' he bought it, but he'd 'a' killed me then an' there if he thought I knew y' were after me!"

"Why would you risk that..? You really believed I could defeat him?" He nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear again, the gesture slow enough for her to allow herself to revel in it for a second.

"You were an' are stronger than him, Wanda. An' I had nothin' ta lose an' ev'rythin' ta gain if he wen' bye bye. An' you were the Sheila f' the job if ever I saw one... But he did a number on ya. I didn't wan' that ta happen."

"I thought you lured me there on purpose so he could screw with me again so I wouldn't mess things up for him anymore," she said, confused, and John sighed.

"No luv. When he saw you were comin' he wen' off an' came back with Mastermind. I didn' even know he had that bloke with 'im. An' he made the slimy bugger fuck with my head so I thought I'd lured you there on his orders so he could mess you up again an' get off the Black List. He gave me an' the boys that memory so we wouldn' A) question ol' Magsy's leadership an' plannin' skills, an' B) all be on the same page so we'd all think it was part of some grand plan and no one would be able ta screw up by askin' why one of us thought this when the others think somethin' else. He's a grand scale piss artist your Dad," he added as an afterthought, and she grimaced.

"Makes sense... How do you know this?" John looked away.

"After they screwed you up again, I fel' wrong about it. Even though I had the righ' memories it fel' wrong. An' then I was talkin' ta Remy an' he said he fel' weird about it too, his shields actin' up, the memories were all twisted like photographs or somethin' an' Rem's always right on the dot when it comes ta rememberin' missions. So I wen' ta see ole Jason..." The way he said it made her think it wasn't a social call.

"He told you the truth?" John looked at her with a strange sort of apprehension on his face.

"Anyone will tell ya the truth when y' wake 'em up by searin' their polyester PJ's to their skin an' demonstrate jus' how flammable man-made materials can be... Shit doesn' come with a 'Do not place near flame' label f' nothin' darlin'..." he said quietly, and she searched his face. His eyes were hard, unrepenting as he awaited her judgement over his actions.

"Good," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Approved?" She nodded.

"That son of a bitch put things in my head, John. He took away who I am, he made me believe things that aren't real. I do not like liars." John's smile was a mixture of relief and respect and she basked in it.

"Good ta know, luv... But he tol' me the truth anyway - an' I know it's the truth because believe me, no one can use their powers when they're in that much pain, I should know – an' I asked him about you. I asked how long it would be until you got your memories back. An' he admitted he'd done a shit job on you, no time or whatever, anyway, he said it probably wouldn' be long before they started actin' up on ya. An' when Remy came back an' tol' me he knew the deal as well, I decided."

"What?" she asked, fearing the answer for some reason.

"That I'd make certain that this time, no one fucks with the Scarlet Witch," he said, stonefaced, and she opened her mouth.

"Do you hate me now, Wanda?" he asked, and she shook her head mutely.

"You – why?" she asked, and he smiled at her.

"You're like me. You've been the same places, you've felt the same pain. I wanted ta help you because I can' help myself an' because I felt I owed it to ya for lettin' them screw with you the second time around – it doesn' matter that I couldn' have stopped it," he cut across her protests again.

"It doesn' matter that I couldn' have done anything, luv. What matters is that I was there an' I saw it happen when it should never have even been possible. You didn' deserve that. I even felt guilty that I led you right there, that I didn' have the power to help you even though I can' change that. But when Remy came back, I made my choice. I would help you this time, no matter what."

"So... so you came here – you've been nice to me and everything because you felt you owed me and you wanted to help me? Is that why you stayed? Is that... is that why... why..." she couldn't finish the sentence, and he tilted her chin up so their eyes were locked on each other.

"No. Originally, I wanted to keep anyone from ever committing any crime like that against you ever again, repay my debt for not stopping it last time. And I wanted to be there when you remembered, help you do whatever it is you might want to do, keep anyone from interfering this time because fuck knows, you deserve your revenge, darlin', an' nothin' would make me 'appier than t' see justice done for ya. Believe me or not, it's the truth. But I liked you from the moment I laid my peepers on ya an' I never intended ta get close to ya at all – I was gonna jus' lay low an' help ya from the sidelines, have your back. But I like ya, Wanda. I wanted ta get involved. I wanted ta be with you, hang out with ya, whatever ya wanna call it..." He wasn't lying. She could see it. But there was something nagging at her still and it wouldn't go away, she knew that.

"And the... what about..?" He sighed.

"I didn' mean ta do that. I didn' ever mean ta do that luv. I shouldn' 'ave done it when ya didn' know the whole story, the whole truth, an' you have ta believe, I gave myself hell for it... I really, really did... I wasn' strong enough ta resist – I wanted it too much... Wanted you too much... I – I really, really – bloody hell... I..." And she knew – he wasn't sure what love felt like either, so he couldn't tell her he was in love with her. And he had nothing to compare it to either, no frame of reference...

"I was going ta tell you ev'rythin' darlin'. Righ' then, when I said we'd talk when ya got dressed? I meant it. I was gonna tell ya ev'rythin' an' then some. Like I'm doin' righ' now. And then... you remembered... An' I didn' even know what the hell I was feelin' – I was havin' an episode ten minutes after I left ya in the hallway an' I can' even tell ya what I was feelin'... I thought that your projection was jus' another thing my fucked up brain was torturing me with, ta be honest... Until afterwards, when I saw some of your other memories, some of the pain I couldn' remember happenin' that way, some things I couldn' remember at all – and I knew it was yours, knew you'd found it all again... The missin' pieces... An' I swear I would 'ave run if it hadn' been for the Prof an' that fuzzy doctor... they tol' me not to. I tol' them they couldn' know, that I knew you'd hate me the minute you opened your eyes but they told me ta try.. An' I wanted to try, Wanda... I thought you'd kill me on sight, hones'ly, but I needed ta try... I still wanted ta tell ya the truth, tell ya that I never meant any of it to go that way, that I wanted – couldn' – jus' ev'rythin'... An' what we did, what I did in that bathroom – an' the hallway – I couldn' run because y' never pushed me away then... An' seein' as how I'm a class A dingbat I couldn' leave ya when I knew I'd always be thinkin' about whether or not ya would have killed me on sight..." He looked away but she caught his face with her icy fingertips and smiled at him, her face glowing.

"You are the single bravest idiot I know," she said softly, her smile so brilliant she felt she was using facial muscles she'd only just developed.

"I don't hate you, John... I understand – I understand everything... I wish you could have told me then – I don't know if I could have taken it all in but I wish I had known... When I was in that coma, I saw all your faces – I put them in boxes in my head like Agatha taught me to – and I saw yours... I was so afraid because what I felt wasn't what Rogue looked like or what Kitty said it felt like, and I let all of that get in the way and scare me... I shouldn't have... Because when I saw your face and I couldn't remember properly, all I knew, all I saw was the fun we had together, going out for dinner, toasting marshmallows – the way you look at me... It felt good and I knew I wanted to keep that... When I woke up and you were asleep I thought you were dead and I blamed myself – I hated myself... and... I thought I'd ruined the chance of ever getting to tell you that I like you, I have fun with you... And what we did... It made me see that there's so much to feel... And I want to feel more than anything in the world..." He was looking at her with shining eyes, his lips parted, and he licked them quickly.

"When you were asleep and I was watchin' you – yes, I was watchin' ya, I wanted to, I felt like the luckiest bastard alive because ya hadn't killed me an' you weren' runnin away screamin', I even had you in my arms f' fuck's sake – all I know is that I felt happy. Really happy, not the fake shit my brain serves up, not the kind playin' with fire brings out... I felt like I could breathe an' all that mattered was that you were okay an' ya didn' seem ta hate me despite ev'rythin'..."

"I don't hate you," she breathed, and he smiled.

"You an' me luv, we know hate an' fear better than anyone else..." She smiled back. There was an infinite comfort in those words. That he knew, he understood. It didn't matter what happened, he would know how she felt because he'd be feeling it too...

"I – I don't know what love feels like, John, but you make me happy," she said tentatively, and he held her a little closer. The barest hint of a breath was now between them, that was all it would take...

"Darlin', I don' think I know much about what anythin' good feels like, but you make a bloke so goddamn happy it's worth snuffin' it for... Honest ta God woman ya smile any more at me an' I'm gonna spontaneously combust righ' here, righ' now!" She laughed at the sincerity in his eyes and he groaned.

"An' the Sheila goes an' laughs, did you ever see the like?" he asked in a comically overdramatic tone, half to himself and half to her, and she quieted herself and bit her lip.

"Do you – do you feel all warm?" He looked at her seriously.

"I'm almost always warm – think it's a side effect of my powers luv. Ya mean do I feel warm inside?" She nodded dumbly, unable to describe what she wanted him to be feeling. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Luv, fire doesn' burn me - unless I wan' it to a'course - but you... You burn me... An' I can' control it any more 'n I can stop wantin' it. Nothin' burns the way you do. I don' even have ta look at you – it's enough that I know you're there somewhere an' I'm a bloody pyre inside..." She nodded quickly, adjusting her arm where it hung over his shoulder, both her arms still around his neck.

"And do you... do you feel tingly too?" He laughed at that and put his hand on the small of her back, the fact that he could likely encircle her waist with both hands if he tried it not lost on her. She liked the idea.

"Like faggy little fairies were dancin' all over me luv!" he grinned, and she had to smile. It sobered quickly though as she felt something else well up in her too.

"And... and does it hurt?" He nodded, the certainty of the gesture almost enough to make her lose her nerve.

"It aches, luv... Like ya reached into me an' pulled out somethin' I needed more 'n I knew. But I like it... I wan' it ta ache like that... It feels like it should, like whatever it is ya took should be yours, if that even makes sense..." she heard the derisive edge to his words and shook her head.

"You always make sense, John... At least you do to me... And the aching... I feel that way too... I didn't understand it because it's not like real pain, it just feels like I need to fill it with something to make it stop..." He smiled at her.

"I know... close your eyes, darlin'." She was a little suspicious of the light in his own sparkling blue eyes.

"Why..? What are you going to do?"

"Nothing that would ever hurt you, luv. Trust me..." She let her lashes flicker and lower over her eyes until she was blind and couldn't help but hold her breath. And then he stole it from her. She felt the gentle slide of his lips over her own, so brief she thought she'd dreamt it until she heard him ask the one question that could have ensured that she would always close her eyes for him.

"Did you feel it..?" she opened her eyes and they were wide and full of something she couldn't name but wanted to share.

"I felt it..." His hand crept up to caress her cheek and she sighed lightly.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, a tiny ghost-smile playing about his lips. She focused on them and then slid her eyes back up to meet his ever so slowly.

"No... it ached..." The ghost smile was made flesh and she wanted to feel that, too.

"Close your eyes for me again, luv?" She obliged him, this time holding her breath out of excitement rather than fear. She felt him kiss her again, but this time it was a little more insistent, insistent enough to warrant a slight parting of her lips that he took advantage of, tasting her for the barest moment before he drew back and she almost demanded he cease his incessant retreating. She opened her eyes again, feeling the urge to blink a few times when she saw the self-control etched onto his features.

"Feel that?" he asked with a hint of something rough and urgent in his voice, and she nodded.

"And..?"

"It wasn't enough," she sighed, pushing her fingers through his hair and rewarded with a shiver and what looked like him biting the inside of his cheek hard.

"I burnt and it wasn't enough..." He eased in to her and whispered in her ear, breath tickling the little hairs behind the delicate shell.

"Close your beautiful eyes for me again, luv... I promise, it won't hurt..." She closed them at his request again and felt him kiss his way from just below her ear along her jawline and up to her mouth, where he bestowed a tiny, almost chaste kiss before capturing her lips in something that felt like she was being scorched from the inside out. She felt her fingers curl in hard until she was digging her nails into the muscle of his shoulder but she didn't care, if that was what it took for him to forget retreating this time, to hold her even closer if that was even possible and just burn with her, until there was nothing left and the world burned with them – and he pulled back, his eyes scanning her face for anything that even hinted at regret or hesitation, and she stared back, taking in the way he looked as though she were seeing him for the first time, drinking him in as surely as if their mouths were still connected, and he stroked the hair from her face and swallowed before he said,

"I know you felt that," his voice enticingly deep with an edge to it that she wanted sharp enough to slice right through her.

"I did – and I want to keep feeling it," she replied, her own voice low and breathless, her own edge subtler, darker, and he ran two fingers from her jaw down her neck as she tipped her head back to allow him a better view of what he was doing to her, and he dipped his head to kiss the creamy white now exposed and ran his fingers through her hair almost as if he wanted to take the rest of her in with his other senses after drinking so deeply from something so intoxicating.

"I won't ask you if you love me, Wanda," he whispered raggedly, and she made a soft noise in the back of her throat that she felt and knew of only because the movement brought her skin into the briefest contact with his lips again. He'd only raised them from her just barely enough to speak without the words being muffled.

"You don't have to," she answered.

"You can feel it..."

~****************************************************************~

" – haha, an' den dere was dat time we caught ol' Colossus polishin' 'is armour, damn de boy looked queer!" Rogue had to laugh at the visual and cuddled in closer to what she realised was probably her boyfriend.

"Hey, Remy?"

"Chere?"

"Do ya – do y'all wish none o' this had ever happened? Ah mean, Magneto an' the Acolytes an' all that?" He kissed her hair and chuckled a little.

"Non, chere... Sure, I wish Magneto had been stillborn sometimes but dat's because he's wrecked so many lives, an' sure, I wish y' an' moi were normal sometimes so I didn' have t' worry 'bout notin' 'cept y', no psycho famille gettin' in de way, but non. Je t'aime jus' de way y' are an' I kinda like de tale o' how we met too – gon' be int'restin' t' tell in a few years time..." She mulled over it for a few minutes while he stroked her hair. He'd never notice the time passing – he got very trance-like when he was playing with her hair, she'd observed.

"Y'all think they're talkin' up there?" she asked, and he sighed.

"Chere, dey need t' get tings straight between dem. Trus' moi, dey be talkin'." She huffed.

"But what if they're not talkin', what if they're jus' runnin' round the issue an' pretendin' they're alragh' as jus' friends, Ah know damn well Wanda has feelin's f' him, an' if you say he feels the same about her Ah believe ya, but what if they don' work it out?" Remy gave her an odd look.

"Y' wan' dem t'be t'gether chere?" She nodded.

"They go together... Ah think he'd be good f' Wanda."

"Y' have any idea how destructive de two of dem could be if dey wanted t' be? Wan' sometin' trashed, Pyro's de homme f' de job, an' y' Wanda she got a lot o' people she migh' wan' trashed chere..." His tone was almost sing-song and Rogue smiled.

"Y'all are testin' meh, aren't ya? Ya damn stupid Cajun, we already decided they need each other. Quit playin' games," she giggled, and he curled his arm around her and kissed her quickly.

"Y' sure y' don' wanna play games wit' me, chere..?" She rolled her eyes and dove on him, her giggling and his delighted growl mingling into what she was certain was the most beautiful sound on earth. Trial period or no, she was going to enjoy every second she had left...