"You always do as you're told?"
He's doing it now. It's in the angry glint in his eyes. He's leaving, defecting to Magneto. "Fuck you. Go. Fine!"
Bobby looks shocked, and if she spared a glance at him, she might soften. But she's eyes locked with Pyro. Not John, Pyro.
"What's your real name, John?"
And Pyro's looking her straight in the eye, a challenge, because he knows she knows it. She admits nothing, but he knows it anyway.
"That's how it works right? You touch someone and know all their secrets." His face is a sneer.
"I don't know anything." It's a scoff and rolled eyes, intense feigning. She doesn't want to know. He doesn't want her to know.
"You do." His body is getting way too close to hers. It's almost threatening.
"You've been useless since Bobby's house. Sulking, barely talking to anyone. I don't know anything. Just let it go!"
"I don't believe you."
Another scoff. It's barely out of her mouth before he drags her by the back of her neck and kisses her rough against the mouth. She stiffens and then her powers hit, again.
The thought comes into her through his psyche rather than his just saying it. "I'm not letting you erase this."
And that's just like him, to hate her for knowing and for not wanting to know at the same time.
She feels it, a vibration in her skin, a twitch in her finger tips, the desire to burn everything to the ground—is that his, him?—and her feet move a few steps forward on their own, but he turns his back and just leaves. "Whatever, fuck you!"
And this is better, because he's a bomb with a ticking clock. She loves Bobby. She loves Bobby. She loves Bobby .
If he stays, he'll break everything. Already started to. There's nothing here for him anyway, not really, not real. Not anymore.
"Fuck you. Go. Fine!"
He's not used to her cussing yet, but he likes it. He likes it too much. He tries to keep his expression closed, his eyes hard, that easy frustrated boredom that's just become his face, but he cracks a little, can feel the tip of his mouth tilt, knows there's a hunger filling his eyes.
She knows, because of course she knows. He's tempted to touch her again, realizes he likes her knowing.
He wishes she touched him a long time ago.
He wishes she'd known.
But what's the difference really, because they'd still all three of them end up here.
Bobby's shifting his weight from foot-to-foot and Rogue is livid. And neither of them are his really. They belong to each other and the X-Men, and he's just been biding his time he thinks, waiting for Magneto to show up.
Rogue actually starts toward him. He watches the force of it start as a twitch of her fingers and grow into propelling forward, footsteps, a wrong turn.
No, that's not even her, is it? Is that how it works? Is that him inside her?
No, she's an X-Men. She puts her head down. She does what she's told. She's where she belongs.
No, he's the one who needs to leave, and he needs to leave alone.
He needs her to stay put.
He turns away, saunters out of the blackbird, feels the winter wind hit his face like a slap, burrows into himself, and tries to remind himself that he's running toward something, not running away.
Logan's on the ground with a bullet in his head.
And he's not going to die like this.
There's a high that comes from the spark, the moment fire enters his field of control. "I'm the worst one." It's power.
He's not going to die like this.
It's easy to get them into retreat. They're just cops, just guns, just humans. The force of the heat and explosion flip a car over. He's a thousand feet tall. He's a puppeteer. He's in charge. He's destiny. He's throwing fire all around. He'll kill them all.
No one puts a gun in his face and lives.
And she touches him, her hand wraps around his ankle, and he's less and less and less.
He gets it now why she calls it draining. He feels the fire pull back into him and then fall out. Every part of his body feels like it's clenching, like it's trying to stay put against the pull of her. His muscles go stiff. His blood pumps hard, but backward. His body gets weak and he's falling to the ground.
And everything he's done is reversed. Almost.
There's no fire, no smoke, but the scorch marks stick.
Logan's on the ground with a bullet in his head.
She's not dying here. She's not ready. She hasn't even gotten to do anything yet.
She gets down. She does as she's told. She wonders what happens after, next? Where are they going to take them? Some kind of jail? Some kind of executioner? Those men with the guns last night…. is it all connected?
But John, he pivots. He doesn't get down. He doesn't try to get away from the fight. He falls into it. He grabs his lighter and goes into it.
When exactly did he decide to become a man of action? Last night he was all retreat. He's usually avoid if he can help it. But, no, today he's gonna try to be the hero.
And it's good except that it's bad, very bad. He can't do this, not like this and not here and not now.
And she can stop him. She's not sure she wants John Allerdyce inside of her, but Bobby's lawn is on fire, and his house is going to follow if she doesn't do something soon.
And so she does it, she gives him the part of her she hates to give, the part of her that's mutant, the part of her that Bobby just rejected because it hurts and it's dangerous and it takes too much.
It's just a touch, but in a second, she's stolen that part of him that he's so proud of. She can feel him trying to call his powers forth while she tapers the fires down. It's a doomed fight. Her power always wins. And he falls to his knees, and then his psyche follows through too and he's rattling in her brain.
He's not sure what she has going on with the Wolverine, but she's running toward the gun shots instead of away, so there has to be something going on there.
He tries to tell her that Logan can take care of himself. The man is self healing. But she won't hear it, and she's dragging Bobby along, and it's crazy . And he's standing out in the hall alone and damn it if he's dying here tonight, he's not dying alone.
When he catches up with them, Logan's having some kind of obviously private conversation with the enemy, and Bobby's putting up an ice wall to interrupt. He feels like an idiot, standing there in his pajamas, watching Bobby save the day. He's incidental.
And it hurts, so she lets go.
She's pretty. Fuck, beautiful. She seems nice . She looks good with Bobby. They fit. They look nice together . Fuck.
And where does that leave him? Between the girl he likes and his best friend? No, off to the side. They don't even see that he's there.
She tilts her chin down, looks up at Bobby with wide eyes. Bobby smiles at her, that big boy band grin. And it works, because that's what she likes, and her smile is slow and shy and there.
He shakes his head, looks away, doesn't really want to be watching them eye fuck. He's got to stop tagging along with them, except if he doesn't, he'll be alone.
They won't notice either way, and he'll be alone.
She can feel John next to her, collapsed but still conscious—thank god—and staring at her. She avoids his gaze but feels it like a weight.
"Would you want to go sometime?" It's not easy, but he wants to be brave for her, feels like he needs to shoot his shot before Bobby seals the deal.
"Sure." She has a sweet smile.
He feels his own smile grow, and he nods, and relief floods through his body.
"Will Bobby come too?"
And yeah, it was crazy to think she'd actually want to go anywhere with him. No, he's just Bobby's best friend.
She can't help it. It's like he's calling her. She looks over and they lock eyes, and he's angry and something else equally dark and dangerous and she thinks she understands what it is, a cocktail of jealousy and desire.
This guy seems really nice. He's preppy and he's nice. He's really blond.
This place is huge, and admittedly, he could use the tour. He's not been in a place like this in his entire life, even back when he had a home.
"And this is our room."
It's clean and there's some stuff by the empty bed, posters and shit.
"Don't worry. I'll clear that stuff out. I've been in this one alone for a while."
John doesn't think he's said anything yet. He takes a big breath, blinks a few times.
"No problem. It's a lot to take in." Bobby nods at him. "Why don't you get settled. I'm going to be down in the rec room with some friends when you're ready to meet everyone. Sound good?"
John nods. "Yeah, okay." The words slip out kind easily. This guy is disarming.
Bobby smiles, and it's bright in a way that makes John hurt a little. He doesn't think he's ever smiled like that.
"Cool. See you there." Bobby leaves the door open when he leaves, and John has to cross the room again to close it.
Bobby's a happy person. He'll figure out that John's just a dangerous rat sooner or later. Better not to get attached.
"I'm sorry." The words hurt coming out but come of their own accord.
He doesn't seem to care though. His expression just flattens as the blackbird lands, gets that bored, empty look she's realizing now is just begrudged, bitter acceptance.
His step dad is screaming and there's a gun in his face, and he's just a kid. He doesn't know shit about guns.
He can't breath. It hurts. But he won't cry.
His mom comes to, sees the scene playing out, and she's crying, begging his stepdad to put the gun down. The barrel switches aim-
"Mommy!" It leaves his throat without a thought.
-and the gun fires.
The spark explodes as the bullet propels forward. His mom is screaming in a puddle of blood and his stepdad screaming while engulfed in flames. And he's screaming too.
He's just a kid. He doesn't know shit about guns or fire or death.
But the flames are growing and coming at him and he just runs. He doesn't look back until he feels the bite of the fire hit him and sink into his skin. He's fallen over in the driveway and scraped his knee, but he's fine somehow. He's not burned.
But the house… the entire house is up in flames, and his mom… where is his mom?
She doesn't want to know any of this.
"You know, you could help." He's been useless since she touched him. And it's bullshit.
And suddenly there's fire. It blazes up and it's way too big to cook—useless —and it took him all of a second, and he's not even looking at them.
Ass. And she just can't look at him anymore, can't deal with this. So she storms off, and to her dismay, the dickhole follows her.
"You know."
She shakes her head. This is what it's all been about. She knows everything about him now, and she can't help, and he doesn't want her to. There's a knocked down tree just across from her. She kicks it with her foot. The sides give a little. She turns, faces him, shakes her head again.
"That's how it works right? You touch someone and know all their secrets." His face is a sneer.
"I don't know anything." It's a scoff and rolled eyes, intense feigning. She doesn't want to know anymore than he wants her to.
"You do." His body is getting way too close to hers. It's almost threatening.
"You've been useless since Bobby's house. Sulking, barely talking to anyone. I don't know anything. Just let it go!"
"I don't believe you."
Another scoff. It's barely out of her mouth before he drags her by the back of her neck and kisses her rough against the mouth. She stiffens and then her powers hit, again.
The thought comes into her through his psyche rather than his just saying it. "I'm not letting you erase this."
And that's just like him, to hate her for knowing and for not wanting to know at the same time.
She pushes him off.
"You're a god among insects." Finally, somewhere to belong.
"You've got to be fucking me."
His eyebrows raise at her, and she can almost feel his grip tighten around his lighter like it's happening in her own skin. "The kiss or the other thing?"
It's an olive branch as much as it's a trap. If she says the kiss, then she's rejecting him. If she says the other thing, she'll have to admit to knowing what he's talking about.
She chooses the third option, and she kisses him.
He's taken aback by it. For a second he doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands, and she can feel it inside her too, shock and even some dismay.
His lips are as soft as they look, and yeah, maybe she has a boyfriend, but that doesn't mean she can't look, or hasn't looked, and hell she's known them both longer than she's dated Bobby. There was a time she was allowed to look. And maybe if he'd done something-
He's a greedy kisser. He uses tongue and bites her lip, and he holds her really close in his arms.
"Get off of me." She pushes him, and he's weak, and she realizes she forgot about her power because he barreled through it kissing her.
He looks about ready to faint. "You mauled me."
"Like you didn't like it."
And it just sits there, this shared moment. And she realizes that the third option is shit too, because she has to reject him eventually.
This isn't happening a long time ago. She has to deal with Bobby. She already picked before she knew she had options.
And anyway, he's leaving.
"Rogue-" He starts, like he has something to say that she doesn't already know.
"I love Bobby." And hell, maybe that's true too. How should she know?
She's had three perspectives on the whole thing roll through her head, but none of them really know anything about anything yet. It's a horror.
Bobby's beautiful. He's like the poster for a Ken doll. He's got those movie star looks, and anyway, he's nice .
So it's good. It's good that John is gone, that he's leaving, because now it can be her and Bobby without any problems, without an external third.
And Bobby takes her gloved hand, and he forces a smile, something tight with the corners hanging low, and his eyes are sad. "We should have gone with him. He could get hurt."
"He can do what he wants."
"We're his friends."
He's so nice. He makes her think about how she's not that nice. John's not that nice either. And Bobby's looking at her with these earnest eyes, and this is why she picked him. Because he's sweet and he has all these good intentions, and he makes her feel like maybe she can still be innocent where John makes her feel like she could never go home again…
...which is the actual truth.
She takes grip on Bobby's hand and starts to pull him outside. He gets the picture pretty quickly, and they wander around a little, and everywhere they look there's just more snow and no John.
And so they take the Blackbird for a spin, and nothing. And so they ask the X-Men on they're way out of Alkali Lake—where's John —and she gets the confirmation. They took too long. They're too late.
He's just gone.
He's not coming back.
Asshole.
Bobby doesn't like to talk about him. She knows it hurt him, that he misses John, that he doesn't understand it, but he just focuses on the positive aspects of life and ignores everything else, so he won't talk about it.
But she can't help herself.
"What am I supposed to do for chemistry notes now? Huh? He was my chemistry in."
"Piotr has good notes." Bobby suggests.
"That's not the point."
But Bobby can pretend. "Of course it is. Trust me, Piotr great at science. It's everything you need." He kisses her on the shoulder over her sleeve.
How is she supposed to argue with that, burst his happy facade, when he's being so sweet. "John had good notes." Oh yeah, because she's not that sweet. "He was really good at chemistry." She just can't help herself.
Bobby pivots, smiles, and somehow without her realizing how, they're surrounded by people in the rec room playing foosball.
She's not sure if she hates him or Pyro more in this particular second.
She's failing chemistry because she's always skipping the class. She can't stand it. It's so boring.
She's made to take it over in the summer one-on-one with Ororo. She tries to get in with the other slackers, but the professor won't allow it because of her special circumstances .
"Good job, Rogue." Ororo hands back her latest test. Rogue glances at it before tossing it away. She got a 94. "You really excel when you apply yourself."
The silence is long, and it becomes clear that the woman expects a response. "Yeah, okay." Whatever .
"Rogue-"
Oh no, Ororo is using her understanding, sympathy voice.
"-I know you've had some challenges."
Rogue is not going to bite.
"I understand that you and John was very close."
"He was more Bobby's friend."
"Well, you both spent a lot of time together, all three of you."
She's not going to bite .
"It's understandable if you're finding it difficult to adjust."
Give her nothing.
Ororo sighs. "I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk about it, I am here to listen."
"Like I have anything to say about it." Nothing, say nothing. But she can't help it. There's an anger burning a hole in her chest. "He's a terrorist now, you know. Magneto tried to kill me. And I'm supposed to what exactly? Miss him? Wish he were here? Think about him all the time and replay our memories together and feel all sad that he's left me and he's not coming back? Yeah, right. If he wants to go around killing people with that lunatic rather than be here then fine! More power to him. I'm not shedding tears over it." And it's horrible, because she can feel tears push through, because she doesn't get to talk about it except that she can't seem to stop herself.
"It's okay to have complicated feelings about it."
You have no idea lady. "He kissed me." She can't believe she's saying it out loud. A secret shared moment. But maybe if she shares it, gets it off her chest, then she can let it go. "The night before. We were fighting but then he kissed me." She waits for Ororo's reaction, but the woman just looks at her patient and expectant. "He already knew he was gonna ditch us. He just wanted to kiss me once before he left."
"You knew he was defecting?"
Rogue has the sense to be scared for two seconds before the anger covers it over. "So what? He wanted to leave. No one could have stopped him."
"You could have told someone. You could have told me or the professor, Jean or Scott. Anyone. We could have talked to him."
She snaps. "Right, because talking helps." Her tone has more bite somehow. She didn't know she could actually feel more bitter about the whole thing than she was already feeling. She grabs her bag and bolts, ignores it when Ororo calls after her that she hadn't been dismissed yet.
She couldn't have stopped him. No one could have. She saw in his mind, felt his psyche like it was her own, and no one could have stopped him.
He was stubborn, never changed his mind once he was decided on something. She understands that because she's the same way.
But he kissed her, and if she hadn't touched him earlier that day, hadn't felt for herself how he felt about her and a thousand other things, she would have been shocked by it.
He kissed her.
And she kissed him too.
It was too late. It was too late to kiss him and too late to change his mind, too late to change her mind.
Why hadn't she done it all sooner?
She wonders if he misses her. She wonders what he's doing right now.
Fin.
A/N: This entire thing was inspired by a Tumblr post that read "mutual pining with an unhappy ending". You're welcome. :)