There Must Be Some Kind of Way Out of Here
Chapter 32
Author's Note: You know the routine. Stuff in italics are thoughts and I love you all and thanks for the reviews.
Woo hoo! 200 Reviews! Thanks everyone, for sticking with this story, it really means a lot to me (especially since this is the first piece of fan fiction I've ever written). And thanks again Post. Your in-depth reviews are very helpful to me.
Oh, and the retarded claymation show John was watching at the beginning of the previous chapter...I watch that crap when I wake up before Evolution comes on (it's on a local station). It's either that, or I can watch 'Kirby' on Fox or 'Recess' on ABC. I'll take claymation over Kirby and Disney cartoons. Nothing personal.
Disclaimer: Same stuff, worded differently. I don't own X-Men: Evolution. It probably owns me. I only own my original character, John Jashback.
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"Unforgivable. Damn that monster turtle. I'll destroy it with Bird Missiles."
Or I can keep randomly saying things out loud. I'm just glad I don't share this room.
It was the middle of the night, and John was restlessly tossing and turning in bed, his futile attempts at falling back to sleep failing miserably.
That's what you get for going to sleep so early.
Yeah? Well, kiss off, conscience. I don't need a damn cricket telling me that the bare neccessities of life will come to me and to give a little whistle.
John buried his face into his pillow, wishing he had a CD player. Music did wonders at taking one's mind off...well, anything. Did a dog bite you in the ass, or did you just lose your job? Having trouble paying rent, or wake up to find an eye in the middle of your forehead? Nothing some good tunes can't fix up...temporarily, at least. Sort of like drugs and alcohol, only cheaper.
**********
I wonder what it'd be like if my eyes fell out. I could juggle them, or something. Without my eyes. Er, juggle my eyes when I can't see. Or something like that.
**********
What if my head fell off? Would I die? Probably.
**********
If I pulled off one of my arms, and cooked it, could I eat it? What would it taste like? Holy hell, I need to go to sleep.
**********
John, why did you take off your pants in front of Rogue? She probably thinks you're a freak now. Wait. I am a freak. You know, that whole 'my-arms-fall-off' bit. Hehehehehehe. I'm tempted to touch her, so her arms will fall off too... But that'd be cruel.
**********
Let's say I get bit in the arm by a zombie. Cause you know, in the movies, when someone gets bitten by a zombie, they eventually become a zombie. So let's say I get bitten in the arm. Couldn't I just rip my arm off and grow a new one and not have to worry about the whole thing? Badass. If a zombie-esque apocalyptic future ever comes, I'll have the edge. Hooah.
**********
I hope there's no training session in the morning. I hope not. If there is, I'll skip it. I'll uh, play the uh, 'No Arms' card...Yeah. That's what I'll do. Can't very well train if I got no arms, eh? Shut up and go back to sleep.
**********
Having your arms fall off sucks.
John proved his point by hurling an arm across the room.
**********
How the hell am I going to do what Scott wants me to do, and hope to come out of it safely? I shouldn't have borrowed the car, dammit. Next time, I'm taking the van.
**********
"I hereby proclaim today 'No-Pants Day!'" John mumbled.
I wonder if it'll do any good to tell Rogue that there's a method to my pants-removing madness... I doubt it. The time for that would have been earlier, WHEN YOU TOOK OFF YOUR PANTS!!!
John always felt good for some reason when he debated with himself in his mind.
Psst. Maybe it's a sign that you have issues.
Shut up.
**********
You know what would be crazy? If I pulled off my right arm, and when I went to regrow it, a left arm came out in it's place. Heh heh. Two of the same arm...that'd be wild...
**********
Yawning, John stretched out underneath his blanket and numbly worked his jaw muscles. The sun was just starting to poke up over the horizon. Rubbing his eyes with his one hand, John glanced over at the clock.
It was almost seven.
No problem. I guess there was no session. Or I didn't have to go to one.
Kicking away his cover, John idly twitched his feet, acknowledging the commands his body was giving him, wondering if anyone was in the bathroom.
You'd thing that with as many as there are here, and as big as this friggin' house is, there'd be more than two bathrooms for us to use.
Staggering out from his room, John walked to the closest bathroom and knocked on the door.
"Yes?" someone called from inside.
"Uh yeah...nevermind..." John said, and headed down to the end of the hall for the other bathroom.
It too, was occupied.
Dammit. He almost crossed his legs as he stood. I really gotta go....
There has to be another bathroom around here somewhere.
John walked lazily down a hallway and started sticking his head into various room, hoping one was the room he so desperately needed.
Yeah, yeah, I'm workin' on it. I'm workin' on it!
John realized the futility of talking to his bladder, but it didn't stop his bladder from talking to him.
Opening a door, John found himself sticking his head into a bedroom. It certainly wasn't one that any of the students lived in. It was far too ornate and lavishly furnished.
Maybe it's a guest room. Or one of the instructor's rooms
And then the metaphorical light bulb came on in John's head.
Hey.... I bet they have their own bathrooms...
On the opposite wall stood a door, possibly confirming John's suspicions.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the one-armed mutant stepped completely into the room. He was halfway across when the door in question opened.
John's jaw hit the floor.
Ororo Munroe strode across the room to John, a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, and not a stitch of clothing covering the rest of her body. Her dark skinned glistened with the moisture from the shower she had just enjoyed.
John spun around on his heels, covering his eyes with his hand, frantically apologizing.
"Oh Jesus, I didn't know anyone was...I really didn't mean to...What I meant to say was I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to come in...Er uh, I'll go now...I didn't see anything!" he finished with a shout.
A hand clasped his shoulder and turned him around, but John held his hand firmly over his eyes, and his lips moved at a mile a minute, still spouting apologies.
Oh my fucking God, I didn't just see what I think I saw. She isn't naked. No...I was imagining it. And she didn't look so goddamned hot. No...I was imagining it.
John felt a soft grip on his one hand and light flooded back into his vision. His eyes were open long enough to know that he was face to face with the older woman, and he quickly slammed them shut. His throat went dry, and hoarse whispers replaced his frantic apologies.
"You can open your eyes, John."
"Er uh, no-that's-ok-I'll-just-keep-my-eyes-shut-for-now," he shouted rapidly.
"There's no need to be so tense, child," Ororo murmured, running a hand along John's cheek. As hard as he tried, he shivered. She had a very delicate touch.
"Would it put you more at ease if I put something on?" she asked.
"Uh yeah, maybe a little," he choked out.
"Very well. You may open your eyes now," she said moments later.
John slowly cracked open an eye, and looked down. Ororo had taken the towel from around her head and had wrapped it around her body. Taking a step backwards, John opened his other eye.
"Er, I'm real, real, real sorry. I'll uh, just be going now..." Ever so slowly, the young man started to back away.
The weather-manipulating woman didn't let him get far. In two quick strides, she was back in his face, and she wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Her other hand traveled down south, and John had a tent pitched in no time.
And as quickly as it happened, it stopped. Ororo let go of John and pushed him backwards, and scowled at him. She extended an arm and held it against his chest, and the air all around them began to crackle and spark. The last thing John Jashback remembered before the lightning sent him into the opposite wall was the evacuation of his bladder...
**********
John's eyes flew open, and he pushed himself up out of his bed. He gingerly felt at his chest with his one hand, but there were no burn marks and there was no pain.
My bed...wait...it was a dream...
But something was wrong. It was still wet between John's legs.
Oh Jesus Christ, please don't tell me I wet the bed...
Holding up the blanket, John looked down and gulped. Sure enough, he had made a mess of himself. Although it wasn't quite what he expected...
Oh no, don't tell me I... Oh hell. I did.
John whimpered and collapsed backwards onto his pillow, and began to cry softly, wondering all the while where they kept the clean sheets.
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They show more graphic stuff on regular TV than what was in this chapter, so I don't want to hear anyone complain about the content and the rating.
Chapter 32
Author's Note: You know the routine. Stuff in italics are thoughts and I love you all and thanks for the reviews.
Woo hoo! 200 Reviews! Thanks everyone, for sticking with this story, it really means a lot to me (especially since this is the first piece of fan fiction I've ever written). And thanks again Post. Your in-depth reviews are very helpful to me.
Oh, and the retarded claymation show John was watching at the beginning of the previous chapter...I watch that crap when I wake up before Evolution comes on (it's on a local station). It's either that, or I can watch 'Kirby' on Fox or 'Recess' on ABC. I'll take claymation over Kirby and Disney cartoons. Nothing personal.
Disclaimer: Same stuff, worded differently. I don't own X-Men: Evolution. It probably owns me. I only own my original character, John Jashback.
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"Unforgivable. Damn that monster turtle. I'll destroy it with Bird Missiles."
Or I can keep randomly saying things out loud. I'm just glad I don't share this room.
It was the middle of the night, and John was restlessly tossing and turning in bed, his futile attempts at falling back to sleep failing miserably.
That's what you get for going to sleep so early.
Yeah? Well, kiss off, conscience. I don't need a damn cricket telling me that the bare neccessities of life will come to me and to give a little whistle.
John buried his face into his pillow, wishing he had a CD player. Music did wonders at taking one's mind off...well, anything. Did a dog bite you in the ass, or did you just lose your job? Having trouble paying rent, or wake up to find an eye in the middle of your forehead? Nothing some good tunes can't fix up...temporarily, at least. Sort of like drugs and alcohol, only cheaper.
**********
I wonder what it'd be like if my eyes fell out. I could juggle them, or something. Without my eyes. Er, juggle my eyes when I can't see. Or something like that.
**********
What if my head fell off? Would I die? Probably.
**********
If I pulled off one of my arms, and cooked it, could I eat it? What would it taste like? Holy hell, I need to go to sleep.
**********
John, why did you take off your pants in front of Rogue? She probably thinks you're a freak now. Wait. I am a freak. You know, that whole 'my-arms-fall-off' bit. Hehehehehehe. I'm tempted to touch her, so her arms will fall off too... But that'd be cruel.
**********
Let's say I get bit in the arm by a zombie. Cause you know, in the movies, when someone gets bitten by a zombie, they eventually become a zombie. So let's say I get bitten in the arm. Couldn't I just rip my arm off and grow a new one and not have to worry about the whole thing? Badass. If a zombie-esque apocalyptic future ever comes, I'll have the edge. Hooah.
**********
I hope there's no training session in the morning. I hope not. If there is, I'll skip it. I'll uh, play the uh, 'No Arms' card...Yeah. That's what I'll do. Can't very well train if I got no arms, eh? Shut up and go back to sleep.
**********
Having your arms fall off sucks.
John proved his point by hurling an arm across the room.
**********
How the hell am I going to do what Scott wants me to do, and hope to come out of it safely? I shouldn't have borrowed the car, dammit. Next time, I'm taking the van.
**********
"I hereby proclaim today 'No-Pants Day!'" John mumbled.
I wonder if it'll do any good to tell Rogue that there's a method to my pants-removing madness... I doubt it. The time for that would have been earlier, WHEN YOU TOOK OFF YOUR PANTS!!!
John always felt good for some reason when he debated with himself in his mind.
Psst. Maybe it's a sign that you have issues.
Shut up.
**********
You know what would be crazy? If I pulled off my right arm, and when I went to regrow it, a left arm came out in it's place. Heh heh. Two of the same arm...that'd be wild...
**********
Yawning, John stretched out underneath his blanket and numbly worked his jaw muscles. The sun was just starting to poke up over the horizon. Rubbing his eyes with his one hand, John glanced over at the clock.
It was almost seven.
No problem. I guess there was no session. Or I didn't have to go to one.
Kicking away his cover, John idly twitched his feet, acknowledging the commands his body was giving him, wondering if anyone was in the bathroom.
You'd thing that with as many as there are here, and as big as this friggin' house is, there'd be more than two bathrooms for us to use.
Staggering out from his room, John walked to the closest bathroom and knocked on the door.
"Yes?" someone called from inside.
"Uh yeah...nevermind..." John said, and headed down to the end of the hall for the other bathroom.
It too, was occupied.
Dammit. He almost crossed his legs as he stood. I really gotta go....
There has to be another bathroom around here somewhere.
John walked lazily down a hallway and started sticking his head into various room, hoping one was the room he so desperately needed.
Yeah, yeah, I'm workin' on it. I'm workin' on it!
John realized the futility of talking to his bladder, but it didn't stop his bladder from talking to him.
Opening a door, John found himself sticking his head into a bedroom. It certainly wasn't one that any of the students lived in. It was far too ornate and lavishly furnished.
Maybe it's a guest room. Or one of the instructor's rooms
And then the metaphorical light bulb came on in John's head.
Hey.... I bet they have their own bathrooms...
On the opposite wall stood a door, possibly confirming John's suspicions.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the one-armed mutant stepped completely into the room. He was halfway across when the door in question opened.
John's jaw hit the floor.
Ororo Munroe strode across the room to John, a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, and not a stitch of clothing covering the rest of her body. Her dark skinned glistened with the moisture from the shower she had just enjoyed.
John spun around on his heels, covering his eyes with his hand, frantically apologizing.
"Oh Jesus, I didn't know anyone was...I really didn't mean to...What I meant to say was I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to come in...Er uh, I'll go now...I didn't see anything!" he finished with a shout.
A hand clasped his shoulder and turned him around, but John held his hand firmly over his eyes, and his lips moved at a mile a minute, still spouting apologies.
Oh my fucking God, I didn't just see what I think I saw. She isn't naked. No...I was imagining it. And she didn't look so goddamned hot. No...I was imagining it.
John felt a soft grip on his one hand and light flooded back into his vision. His eyes were open long enough to know that he was face to face with the older woman, and he quickly slammed them shut. His throat went dry, and hoarse whispers replaced his frantic apologies.
"You can open your eyes, John."
"Er uh, no-that's-ok-I'll-just-keep-my-eyes-shut-for-now," he shouted rapidly.
"There's no need to be so tense, child," Ororo murmured, running a hand along John's cheek. As hard as he tried, he shivered. She had a very delicate touch.
"Would it put you more at ease if I put something on?" she asked.
"Uh yeah, maybe a little," he choked out.
"Very well. You may open your eyes now," she said moments later.
John slowly cracked open an eye, and looked down. Ororo had taken the towel from around her head and had wrapped it around her body. Taking a step backwards, John opened his other eye.
"Er, I'm real, real, real sorry. I'll uh, just be going now..." Ever so slowly, the young man started to back away.
The weather-manipulating woman didn't let him get far. In two quick strides, she was back in his face, and she wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Her other hand traveled down south, and John had a tent pitched in no time.
And as quickly as it happened, it stopped. Ororo let go of John and pushed him backwards, and scowled at him. She extended an arm and held it against his chest, and the air all around them began to crackle and spark. The last thing John Jashback remembered before the lightning sent him into the opposite wall was the evacuation of his bladder...
**********
John's eyes flew open, and he pushed himself up out of his bed. He gingerly felt at his chest with his one hand, but there were no burn marks and there was no pain.
My bed...wait...it was a dream...
But something was wrong. It was still wet between John's legs.
Oh Jesus Christ, please don't tell me I wet the bed...
Holding up the blanket, John looked down and gulped. Sure enough, he had made a mess of himself. Although it wasn't quite what he expected...
Oh no, don't tell me I... Oh hell. I did.
John whimpered and collapsed backwards onto his pillow, and began to cry softly, wondering all the while where they kept the clean sheets.
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They show more graphic stuff on regular TV than what was in this chapter, so I don't want to hear anyone complain about the content and the rating.