There Must Be Some Kind of Way Out of Here
Chapter 8
Author's Note: Stuff in italics are thoughts. Of course, I really don't think you need that explained. Stuff that happens to be in bold or underlined just mean emphasis is placed on the word.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people or locations in this story, except John.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jamie Madrox poked his head in the door and saw John Jashback laying on the floor, clothes disheveled and pants around his ankles. He burst into a long and loud fit of laughter.
"Oh man. Just kill me," John moaned.
Jamie left the room momentarily, but outside John heard him yell, "Hey everybody! Come look! John can't get his pants on!"
"Oh God. Kill me now," John moaned louder.
The next thing the one-armed mutant realized, scores of the other students, primarily the younger ones, were gathered in his doorway, laughing heartily. John's face turned a bright shade of red, but he tried to block it out. Fist balled tight and teeth gritted, an arm burst out of his empty left socket and he pushed himself up with both. Ignoring the others, he stood up and put his pants on, along with his boots. Gloves in hand, John stood up, intending to leave his room but was stopped by the other students staring dumbfounded at him, jaws dropped to their feet.
Oh, that's right. They haven't seen my power.
He walked up to the door, face to face with the others and said, "If you'll excuse me..."
But they didn't move, as their eyes were glued to John's arm. As he moved his arm, their eyes followed. He barely managed to not laugh when they stared as he held his arm high in the air, and their looks followed as he brought it down to lower. John grinned evilly on the inside. He pulled back his arm and held it there for a moment, the others seemingly captivated by it. He wiggled his fingers and darted his arm forward, like a scorpion's tail striking, in between two people John couldn't remember (or was just too tired to remember, you decide). Some gasped, but all jumped backwards. In the midst of the crowd, John could hear Jamie giggle mischievously.
Seizing their momentary shock, John pushed his way through the crowd who seemed to follow him, as if hypnotized. He went into the bathroom, cleaned off his arm, and put on his gloves. Looking in the mirror, he decided that he looked very much the fool, in his uniform with only one sleeve. The gloves looked especially stupid, so he shoved them in his pocket and walked back out.
"So uh..." he said, "Which way's the Danger Room?"
**********
John stood up in the control booth overlooking the Danger Room with the man called Logan and the younger students. Below, the core six members; Scott, Jean, Rogue, Kitty, Kurt, and Evan (those being the core members because they had been at the Institute the longest John learned) were running a veritable gauntlet of hazards and pitfalls.
"Are you listening, kid?" Logan growled.
"Uh..uh...yes sir," John spluttered.
"Then what did I just say?"
"Never to uh, go in the Danger Room without a uh, instructor present, or uh, unless Scott is with me. Uh, sir."
Logan growled and replied, "Don't you forget it either, bub."
Down below, Evan fired a volley of spikes and destroyed a sentry gun. Kurt teleported Kitty behind a machine with electrified tentacles, who phased through it, short circuiting it. Jean deflected some incoming projectiles with a shield that John couldn't see. John pointed to Rogue, who was doing her best not to get hit by anything.
"That's got to be hard on her. She can't actively defend herself."
"And that's why you work as a team down there, kid. You're going to be facing the same problems as her. The same with Multiple boy. Which is why you work as a team. Alone, you stand no chance. Together, you survive. Watch her, and you'll see. The others are there when she needs them, and she's there when they need her," Logan told him.
John leaned over and whispered to the person closest to him that wasn't an angry Canadian, who happened to be Sam. "He's a bit, uh, intense, isn't he?"
"You aint seen nothin' yet, man. Just wait till he's down there with us..."
John gulped and turned back to Logan. "So uh, when will I be going down there?"
"Not in this session. You're an observer right now, but after school you're going to run a simulation with the others, and we'll see how you do," he said gruffly.
John involuntarily rubbed his left arm and went back to watching the other students train.
**********
John stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed, a towel hanging limply over his head. He had taken a shower after being dismissed from the training sessions, and dressed in the bathroom.
I don't know about anyone else around here, but I'm not about to try and walk to my room in nothing but a towel. Not yet, at least.
Back in his room, John rummaged through the scant belongings he brought with him, finding his comb. He silently wished he had brought more things with him, because he didn't expect to be at the Institute for any long period of time.
I'll graduate next year, and then I can leave and go live a normal life. I hope. As if it's possible to live a normal life with your arm falls off. Oh well, if I need anything else, my parents can send it up here.
He ran the comb through his hair, styling it in much of the same fashion that Scott used. It wasn't anything special - he'd been combing his hair like that for as long as he could remember. John's eyes drifted to the reflection of his arm in the mirror and involuntarily rubbed it.
In some ways, I guess I'm lucky.
It was true. John was able to do what every amputee in the world dreamed they could do, to a limited extent. He went six months without an arm, and it was more than enough time for him to realize how much people take the simple things in life for granted. He always shuddered when he thought of those who had gone years like that. A knock at his door broke his thoughts away from his arm.
"Come in."
Jamie poked his head in the door and said, "Time for school. Let's go!"
John stuck his schedule into his pocket along with some money and a pencil and grabbed his empty backpack and left the room with Jamie.
"You know Jamie," John began, "I'm gonna get you back for what you did this morning."
"Awww c'mon. I was only having a little fun." A smile brightened up his face. "And when you did that thing with your arm," he said, mimicking John's movements from earlier, "The look on their faces was priceless. I wish I had a camera." He broke into a fit of laughter.
"Yeah yeah. That'll just teach me to not to sleep with an arm off again."
John and Jamie and the other younger students piled into a van outside, the same one used to bring John to the Institute.
"Where are they going?" John asked, pointing outside to Jean and Kitty walking side by side, while Evan sped past on his skateboard.
"They ride to school with Scott. It's not fair, either, cause he's got a cool car."
"Oh."
"Everybody ready?" called Ororo from the front. She waited for the round of "yes" to come from everyone before starting the van and heading down the long driveway.
John couldn't help but feel awkward, sitting in the van. The others were all at least three years younger than him, and he was five years the elder to Jamie. He just shrugged and looked out the window while Jamie sat next to him chattering excitedly. It was just one of those things that happened. He was the new guy, only much older than the rest. He remembered the Professor exclaiming over his powers when he first met him.
"You're quite the interesting lad, John. The X-gene which causes your abilities usually emerges upon reaching adolescence. Sometimes, however, there are extremes to this, such as you. Your genetic code contained the X-gene, but it was recessive. It's growth was triggered by your extreme emotional state after your accident. Had that not occurred, I believe you never would have gained the abilities you now have."
Of course, that didn't exactly sooth John, or make him any more comfortable with being a mutant.
"Don't take it hard, John. You have been blessed with a gift, and you should be proud that you had to amazing willpower to bring it forth."
John still couldn't understand how his arm falling off could be called a gift. If he was lucky, he'd be limited to only his arm. The idea of his legs or even his head falling off didn't appeal to him. The Professor did manage to put John at ease by telling him that the chances of continued evolution of his mutant abilities were slim, due to the age at which they developed.
They dropped off Jamie at the elementary school, and everyone else got off at Bayville High School.
"John, remember to check in at the office before going to class," Ororo told him.
"Yeah, ok. Sure. Uh, bye."
As the van pulled away, John stepped into the school building with the other residents of the Institute. He looked around dumbfounded. "Uh guys? Which way to the uh, office?"
The girls giggled and the guys laughed at him. Bobby motioned which way to go before saying, "See you later, Lefty."
"Lefty?"
"Yeah. Lefty."
The girls giggled and the guys laughed him, and they all said, "Bye Lefty!"
Great. I haven't been here twenty-four hours, and I've already got a nickname. Well...I guess I should be flattered.
John made his way through the throng of students to the office, and met with the principal. Mr. Kelley was a tall, gaunt fellow, with big square glasses and a pale complexion. He seemed like a nice guy in all respects, a happy, outgoing fellow. That was, until he learned that John was living in the Xavier Institute. His eyes narrowed and his tone grew more guarded, but he let John go without comment.
Weird guy.
**********
The first half of the school day passed in a blur. John's classes were predictably boring. He was smart enough for more advanced classes, but lacked the spirit and drive to take them. He had taken them in the previous two years of high school, but didn't much care for them. His teachers seemed alright, from the laid back ones to the dried up prunes who seemed to hate children. The other students gave him that once-over look; the kind that decided whether they thought you were pushover, a jerk, boyfriend-material, plain friend-material, smart, stupid, a freak, etc. John had given that look to people before. He doubted there was anyone who didn't. It was just one of those things teenagers did. The first half of the day was uneventful, yes, but when lunch rolled around, that's when things got interesting...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 8
Author's Note: Stuff in italics are thoughts. Of course, I really don't think you need that explained. Stuff that happens to be in bold or underlined just mean emphasis is placed on the word.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people or locations in this story, except John.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jamie Madrox poked his head in the door and saw John Jashback laying on the floor, clothes disheveled and pants around his ankles. He burst into a long and loud fit of laughter.
"Oh man. Just kill me," John moaned.
Jamie left the room momentarily, but outside John heard him yell, "Hey everybody! Come look! John can't get his pants on!"
"Oh God. Kill me now," John moaned louder.
The next thing the one-armed mutant realized, scores of the other students, primarily the younger ones, were gathered in his doorway, laughing heartily. John's face turned a bright shade of red, but he tried to block it out. Fist balled tight and teeth gritted, an arm burst out of his empty left socket and he pushed himself up with both. Ignoring the others, he stood up and put his pants on, along with his boots. Gloves in hand, John stood up, intending to leave his room but was stopped by the other students staring dumbfounded at him, jaws dropped to their feet.
Oh, that's right. They haven't seen my power.
He walked up to the door, face to face with the others and said, "If you'll excuse me..."
But they didn't move, as their eyes were glued to John's arm. As he moved his arm, their eyes followed. He barely managed to not laugh when they stared as he held his arm high in the air, and their looks followed as he brought it down to lower. John grinned evilly on the inside. He pulled back his arm and held it there for a moment, the others seemingly captivated by it. He wiggled his fingers and darted his arm forward, like a scorpion's tail striking, in between two people John couldn't remember (or was just too tired to remember, you decide). Some gasped, but all jumped backwards. In the midst of the crowd, John could hear Jamie giggle mischievously.
Seizing their momentary shock, John pushed his way through the crowd who seemed to follow him, as if hypnotized. He went into the bathroom, cleaned off his arm, and put on his gloves. Looking in the mirror, he decided that he looked very much the fool, in his uniform with only one sleeve. The gloves looked especially stupid, so he shoved them in his pocket and walked back out.
"So uh..." he said, "Which way's the Danger Room?"
**********
John stood up in the control booth overlooking the Danger Room with the man called Logan and the younger students. Below, the core six members; Scott, Jean, Rogue, Kitty, Kurt, and Evan (those being the core members because they had been at the Institute the longest John learned) were running a veritable gauntlet of hazards and pitfalls.
"Are you listening, kid?" Logan growled.
"Uh..uh...yes sir," John spluttered.
"Then what did I just say?"
"Never to uh, go in the Danger Room without a uh, instructor present, or uh, unless Scott is with me. Uh, sir."
Logan growled and replied, "Don't you forget it either, bub."
Down below, Evan fired a volley of spikes and destroyed a sentry gun. Kurt teleported Kitty behind a machine with electrified tentacles, who phased through it, short circuiting it. Jean deflected some incoming projectiles with a shield that John couldn't see. John pointed to Rogue, who was doing her best not to get hit by anything.
"That's got to be hard on her. She can't actively defend herself."
"And that's why you work as a team down there, kid. You're going to be facing the same problems as her. The same with Multiple boy. Which is why you work as a team. Alone, you stand no chance. Together, you survive. Watch her, and you'll see. The others are there when she needs them, and she's there when they need her," Logan told him.
John leaned over and whispered to the person closest to him that wasn't an angry Canadian, who happened to be Sam. "He's a bit, uh, intense, isn't he?"
"You aint seen nothin' yet, man. Just wait till he's down there with us..."
John gulped and turned back to Logan. "So uh, when will I be going down there?"
"Not in this session. You're an observer right now, but after school you're going to run a simulation with the others, and we'll see how you do," he said gruffly.
John involuntarily rubbed his left arm and went back to watching the other students train.
**********
John stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed, a towel hanging limply over his head. He had taken a shower after being dismissed from the training sessions, and dressed in the bathroom.
I don't know about anyone else around here, but I'm not about to try and walk to my room in nothing but a towel. Not yet, at least.
Back in his room, John rummaged through the scant belongings he brought with him, finding his comb. He silently wished he had brought more things with him, because he didn't expect to be at the Institute for any long period of time.
I'll graduate next year, and then I can leave and go live a normal life. I hope. As if it's possible to live a normal life with your arm falls off. Oh well, if I need anything else, my parents can send it up here.
He ran the comb through his hair, styling it in much of the same fashion that Scott used. It wasn't anything special - he'd been combing his hair like that for as long as he could remember. John's eyes drifted to the reflection of his arm in the mirror and involuntarily rubbed it.
In some ways, I guess I'm lucky.
It was true. John was able to do what every amputee in the world dreamed they could do, to a limited extent. He went six months without an arm, and it was more than enough time for him to realize how much people take the simple things in life for granted. He always shuddered when he thought of those who had gone years like that. A knock at his door broke his thoughts away from his arm.
"Come in."
Jamie poked his head in the door and said, "Time for school. Let's go!"
John stuck his schedule into his pocket along with some money and a pencil and grabbed his empty backpack and left the room with Jamie.
"You know Jamie," John began, "I'm gonna get you back for what you did this morning."
"Awww c'mon. I was only having a little fun." A smile brightened up his face. "And when you did that thing with your arm," he said, mimicking John's movements from earlier, "The look on their faces was priceless. I wish I had a camera." He broke into a fit of laughter.
"Yeah yeah. That'll just teach me to not to sleep with an arm off again."
John and Jamie and the other younger students piled into a van outside, the same one used to bring John to the Institute.
"Where are they going?" John asked, pointing outside to Jean and Kitty walking side by side, while Evan sped past on his skateboard.
"They ride to school with Scott. It's not fair, either, cause he's got a cool car."
"Oh."
"Everybody ready?" called Ororo from the front. She waited for the round of "yes" to come from everyone before starting the van and heading down the long driveway.
John couldn't help but feel awkward, sitting in the van. The others were all at least three years younger than him, and he was five years the elder to Jamie. He just shrugged and looked out the window while Jamie sat next to him chattering excitedly. It was just one of those things that happened. He was the new guy, only much older than the rest. He remembered the Professor exclaiming over his powers when he first met him.
"You're quite the interesting lad, John. The X-gene which causes your abilities usually emerges upon reaching adolescence. Sometimes, however, there are extremes to this, such as you. Your genetic code contained the X-gene, but it was recessive. It's growth was triggered by your extreme emotional state after your accident. Had that not occurred, I believe you never would have gained the abilities you now have."
Of course, that didn't exactly sooth John, or make him any more comfortable with being a mutant.
"Don't take it hard, John. You have been blessed with a gift, and you should be proud that you had to amazing willpower to bring it forth."
John still couldn't understand how his arm falling off could be called a gift. If he was lucky, he'd be limited to only his arm. The idea of his legs or even his head falling off didn't appeal to him. The Professor did manage to put John at ease by telling him that the chances of continued evolution of his mutant abilities were slim, due to the age at which they developed.
They dropped off Jamie at the elementary school, and everyone else got off at Bayville High School.
"John, remember to check in at the office before going to class," Ororo told him.
"Yeah, ok. Sure. Uh, bye."
As the van pulled away, John stepped into the school building with the other residents of the Institute. He looked around dumbfounded. "Uh guys? Which way to the uh, office?"
The girls giggled and the guys laughed at him. Bobby motioned which way to go before saying, "See you later, Lefty."
"Lefty?"
"Yeah. Lefty."
The girls giggled and the guys laughed him, and they all said, "Bye Lefty!"
Great. I haven't been here twenty-four hours, and I've already got a nickname. Well...I guess I should be flattered.
John made his way through the throng of students to the office, and met with the principal. Mr. Kelley was a tall, gaunt fellow, with big square glasses and a pale complexion. He seemed like a nice guy in all respects, a happy, outgoing fellow. That was, until he learned that John was living in the Xavier Institute. His eyes narrowed and his tone grew more guarded, but he let John go without comment.
Weird guy.
**********
The first half of the school day passed in a blur. John's classes were predictably boring. He was smart enough for more advanced classes, but lacked the spirit and drive to take them. He had taken them in the previous two years of high school, but didn't much care for them. His teachers seemed alright, from the laid back ones to the dried up prunes who seemed to hate children. The other students gave him that once-over look; the kind that decided whether they thought you were pushover, a jerk, boyfriend-material, plain friend-material, smart, stupid, a freak, etc. John had given that look to people before. He doubted there was anyone who didn't. It was just one of those things teenagers did. The first half of the day was uneventful, yes, but when lunch rolled around, that's when things got interesting...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------