There Must Be Some Kind of Way Out of Here
Chapter 35
Author's Note: You know the routine. Stuff in italics are thoughts.
I know, I know. Sure as hell took long enough for this chapter, didn't it? I'm sorry. It's just that, you know, the whole holiday thing going on, plus I had a temp. job before Christmas that took up much of my time, and when I finally got home, I was too exhausted to write anything. I'll really try to update faster, since I'm sure I've lost a great deal of my readers (or the last few chapters have just sucked that badly). And hey, I'm serious here: if you've got a suggestion for the story, or have something you want to see, please, please, please, please, please, please tell me. If I have a good idea on what to write, stuff gets written faster, rather than me staring at a blank word file for hours on end. And I still love you all.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of this, except my original character, John, and any body parts of his that fall off. Oh, and this has infrequent cuss words, so, uh...don't freak out over them, ok?
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With great power comes great responsibility...
The line rang in his ears, echoing over and over and over...
John, you've been watching Spiderman too much...
The sudden and abrupt silence brought him back into reality.
And the situation he was in.
But something was different.
His face was still intact, and the only pain he felt was the throbbing in his jaw, which was slowly dissipating.
John cautiously opened an eye. His other eye flung open, and his mouth hit the floor.
Things certainly hadn't gone as planned.
John was supposed to start a fight with Duncan Matthews, and Scott would come in to save the day, making himself look good in front of Jean. A simple plan. An easy plan. For Scott, at least.
But no, it didn't go according to plan. But then again, do things ever go the way you want them? Some unknown variable always enters the equation, putting a wrench into everything you've come up with. And this was certainly something no one expected to happen, much less John, and the complete opposite of what Scott wanted to happen.
No, John didn't open his eyes to see Scott Summers doing his portion of the plan. No, when John opened his eyes, he saw Jean Grey kissing Duncan Matthews.
The grip on John's shirt slowly vanished, and the fist, ready to lash out like a scorpion's stinger, slowly released and slumped down to Duncan's side.
...Shit.
John, like everyone else in the cafeteria at that moment in time, was silent. Silent like 'hear the pin drop' silent.
I'm imagining this, right? I sure hope so...
Jean finally pulled away from Duncan, who looked flustered and dazed and confused and surprised. Taking a quick glance in John's direction, Jean pressed her way through the crowd of people and disappeared from sight.
And that's a damn good idea, too... Quoting a line from, in John's opinion, one of the greatest movies ever, he made like a tree and got the fuck outta there.
**********
Well, I think it's safe to say that Scott hates me now. Yep. I just hope he doesn't try to blast a hole through my chest or something. Hell, he probably will.
John sighed, leaning up against a row of lockers outside of the cafeteria.
Well, I can always leave. It'll be a nice, clean break. With no regrets. I mean, c'mon. I been here...what, a week? I can go home, away from all of this. Away from all of this. Cause hell, only one arm was falling off before I came here. Now it's both. What's next? My legs? My head? My...
John winced. The slightest mention of harm coming to a man's private parts was painful in itself. As for something actually happening... It was a subject every man in the world tended to shy away from.
But leaving is just a cheap way to escape my troubles. Sure, it could work now, but I can't just run for the rest of my life, whenever things don't go my way. So John, suck it up. 'Don't do the crime if you can't pay the time.'
Though I wouldn't exactly count what I've done as 'crimes,' but hell, in some way or another, I directly, or indirectly, have a hand in everything that's happened. I could have ignored Pietro, not goaded Lance. I didn't have to go on the date, or wander aimlessly and start a fire, losing a pair of clothes in the process...and some of my dignity too.
Dignity?
Yeah. You remember that, don't you? You used to have lots of it before you came here. Pride, self-esteem, a sense of well-being. Courage, intelligence, that sort of thing.
Oh, that. Yeah. Dignity. Sure as hell don't have as much as I used to...
"John."
Turning his head in the direction of the voice that called his name, and saw the number two person on the 'I Don't Want To See You Right Now' list.
"Jean," John said simply, nodding to himself.
He pushed himself forward off the wall and thrust his hands into pockets. "So er... Yeah."
"I just want to apologize for what happened back there. Duncan shouldn't have snapped like that."
"No, really?" John muttered. Sure, he had dumped a tray of food onto him with the intent of goading him into a fight, but deep down, he hoped the lummox would just shrug it off or...well, anything that could have happened would have been better than what did happen.
"I totally agree with you," she said.
"Huh?" John said, looking up at her. "I didn't say anythi... Oh yeah. Shouldn't you like knock or something before barging into my head?"
Her face twisted for a moment. "I hardly ever enter someone's thoughts without their permission. But you were involuntarily projecting them, and so I couldn't help but hear them," she explained.
John eyed her for a moment and shrugged. "Well uh, I think I'll uh, just go now..."
Her hand reached out and grabbed his arm as he turned away, but quickly let go. John stopped in mid-stride and grinned. "You remembered."
She nodded. "I wouldn't want you to fall apart in the middle of school, after all."
"Wouldn't be the first time," John said under his breath.
"Hmm?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing. So uh...why did you stop me?"
"You didn't really trip, did you?"
The pit of John's stomach sunk to the bottom depths. He didn't expect that question, especially so bluntly.
Keep cool. Keep cool. Composure. Keep that last bit of pride you still have.
"No, I did trip. I mean, c'mon, I'm in no condition to fight some big football player. I mean, what if I lost an arm? Think of the ruckus it'd cause."
Yeah. That sounded good. Yeah...
"Don't lie to me, John," Jean said, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"Ow..." John glared and rubbed where she poked. She needs to trim her nails or something. "I'm not lying to you."
"Yes you are."
John gave her a sideways glance. "I thought you didn't go into people's heads without permission."
"I don't need telepathy to know that you aren't being honest. You're a bad liar."
"Am not."
"Yes you are."
"Shut up."
Jean chuckled softly before continuing. "Are you going to tell me the truth?"
Time seemed to stop for John Jashback. He weighed the options in his mind. Yes, the plan had failed, but if he told her, it might all work out in the end. Then again, it could totally blow up in his face. He could feed her more b.s. and just run away, or she could go into his head and find out the truth. What felt like an eternity of babbling incoherently in the corners of his mind turned out to only be a few seconds. To hell with it. He was going to tell her.
"The door is open, and the truth lies within. But do you dare enter the unknown...?" John said, trying his best to impersonate Rod Serling, pointing at his forehead.
It didn't work that well.
Once Jean had recovered from her fit of giggling, she gave him a serious look. "Are you sure about this?"
John nodded. "I'm no fancy orator, so I'll probably miss out on the important details. I figure you can get the whole story yourself, and easier. Just uh...ignore the other stuff, ok?"
Jean gave him a knowing smile, which didn't surprise John. She had to have gone into plenty of minds in her tenure has a telepath, he assured himself. She had to know the deepest, darkest secrets many people had, the Professor, too. They had to be good at keeping people's secrets to themselves, or else...they probably wouldn't be breathing anymore.
John tapped his head and said simply, "Go for it."
Pressing her fingertips to his temples, John shivered as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on his head. After that, things just passed as a blur.
**********
John wasn't sure when he, for the lack of a more descriptive term, came back into reality. It couldn't have been long, as the hallways were still devoid of people. They couldn't have missed the bell, because he knew he sure as hell would notice if a gorgeous redhead had her hands on some random guy's head in the middle of a hall.
"Well?"
"You were right, you know," she said.
"I was? About what?" John asked.
"Scott really could have done this on his own. I don't know why he drug you into the situation."
"Heh, glad someone agrees with me. Not that it does me any good right now. Or you. Or Scott."
"True."
The two stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, well, at least for John. Jean seemed to be tucked away in her own thoughts.
"Er...so what are you going to do about all this?"
"That...is a good question. And right now, I just don't know..." she trailed off, looking very frustrated with herself.
John nodded. I think you made things worse when you kissed Duncan. Which reminded him...
"Er...I never got to say it, but thanks, for, y'know...essentially taking a bullet for me."
Jean smiled, and John immediatly went weak in the knees.
Damn you for being male, John. Hell, it isn't my fault.
"We're X-Men. We look out for each other," she said. "And I hope you understand that now."
"I do. I uh...yeah. I understand. Thanks, you know. If you uh, ever need me to kiss a girl who's about to kick your ass, well, you can come to me!"
The instant those words came out of his mouth, John knew they were totally inappropriate.
"Er...I...er...uh...sorry...er...yeah...uh...you know what I mean, right?"
Jean laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, and your welcome. I hope this means you still aren't thinking about leaving?"
Trying hard not to wince, John nodded. "I can't run away from my troubles forever. But right now, it seems like a good idea."
He turned and started walking away.
"Where are you going?" she called after him.
"Don't know," he replied, not turning back. "Anywhere but here sounds good."
Playing hooky on your second week of school? Naughty boy, John. Shut up, you stupid cricket.
"You're welcome to come with me," Even if I don't know where I'm going.
John heard her footsteps, but couldn't tell if they were approaching or fading...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If that whole 'cricket' thing John mutters about in his thoughts confuses you, go see the Disney version of Pinocchio, and it'll clear things up.
John groans alot. And sighs. And nods. The poor guy.
Post, you have no idea how overjoyed I am that you've reviewed the last few chapters. I was afraid that you'd disappeared on me, and with you...I dunno. You rock.
Chapter 35
Author's Note: You know the routine. Stuff in italics are thoughts.
I know, I know. Sure as hell took long enough for this chapter, didn't it? I'm sorry. It's just that, you know, the whole holiday thing going on, plus I had a temp. job before Christmas that took up much of my time, and when I finally got home, I was too exhausted to write anything. I'll really try to update faster, since I'm sure I've lost a great deal of my readers (or the last few chapters have just sucked that badly). And hey, I'm serious here: if you've got a suggestion for the story, or have something you want to see, please, please, please, please, please, please tell me. If I have a good idea on what to write, stuff gets written faster, rather than me staring at a blank word file for hours on end. And I still love you all.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of this, except my original character, John, and any body parts of his that fall off. Oh, and this has infrequent cuss words, so, uh...don't freak out over them, ok?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With great power comes great responsibility...
The line rang in his ears, echoing over and over and over...
John, you've been watching Spiderman too much...
The sudden and abrupt silence brought him back into reality.
And the situation he was in.
But something was different.
His face was still intact, and the only pain he felt was the throbbing in his jaw, which was slowly dissipating.
John cautiously opened an eye. His other eye flung open, and his mouth hit the floor.
Things certainly hadn't gone as planned.
John was supposed to start a fight with Duncan Matthews, and Scott would come in to save the day, making himself look good in front of Jean. A simple plan. An easy plan. For Scott, at least.
But no, it didn't go according to plan. But then again, do things ever go the way you want them? Some unknown variable always enters the equation, putting a wrench into everything you've come up with. And this was certainly something no one expected to happen, much less John, and the complete opposite of what Scott wanted to happen.
No, John didn't open his eyes to see Scott Summers doing his portion of the plan. No, when John opened his eyes, he saw Jean Grey kissing Duncan Matthews.
The grip on John's shirt slowly vanished, and the fist, ready to lash out like a scorpion's stinger, slowly released and slumped down to Duncan's side.
...Shit.
John, like everyone else in the cafeteria at that moment in time, was silent. Silent like 'hear the pin drop' silent.
I'm imagining this, right? I sure hope so...
Jean finally pulled away from Duncan, who looked flustered and dazed and confused and surprised. Taking a quick glance in John's direction, Jean pressed her way through the crowd of people and disappeared from sight.
And that's a damn good idea, too... Quoting a line from, in John's opinion, one of the greatest movies ever, he made like a tree and got the fuck outta there.
**********
Well, I think it's safe to say that Scott hates me now. Yep. I just hope he doesn't try to blast a hole through my chest or something. Hell, he probably will.
John sighed, leaning up against a row of lockers outside of the cafeteria.
Well, I can always leave. It'll be a nice, clean break. With no regrets. I mean, c'mon. I been here...what, a week? I can go home, away from all of this. Away from all of this. Cause hell, only one arm was falling off before I came here. Now it's both. What's next? My legs? My head? My...
John winced. The slightest mention of harm coming to a man's private parts was painful in itself. As for something actually happening... It was a subject every man in the world tended to shy away from.
But leaving is just a cheap way to escape my troubles. Sure, it could work now, but I can't just run for the rest of my life, whenever things don't go my way. So John, suck it up. 'Don't do the crime if you can't pay the time.'
Though I wouldn't exactly count what I've done as 'crimes,' but hell, in some way or another, I directly, or indirectly, have a hand in everything that's happened. I could have ignored Pietro, not goaded Lance. I didn't have to go on the date, or wander aimlessly and start a fire, losing a pair of clothes in the process...and some of my dignity too.
Dignity?
Yeah. You remember that, don't you? You used to have lots of it before you came here. Pride, self-esteem, a sense of well-being. Courage, intelligence, that sort of thing.
Oh, that. Yeah. Dignity. Sure as hell don't have as much as I used to...
"John."
Turning his head in the direction of the voice that called his name, and saw the number two person on the 'I Don't Want To See You Right Now' list.
"Jean," John said simply, nodding to himself.
He pushed himself forward off the wall and thrust his hands into pockets. "So er... Yeah."
"I just want to apologize for what happened back there. Duncan shouldn't have snapped like that."
"No, really?" John muttered. Sure, he had dumped a tray of food onto him with the intent of goading him into a fight, but deep down, he hoped the lummox would just shrug it off or...well, anything that could have happened would have been better than what did happen.
"I totally agree with you," she said.
"Huh?" John said, looking up at her. "I didn't say anythi... Oh yeah. Shouldn't you like knock or something before barging into my head?"
Her face twisted for a moment. "I hardly ever enter someone's thoughts without their permission. But you were involuntarily projecting them, and so I couldn't help but hear them," she explained.
John eyed her for a moment and shrugged. "Well uh, I think I'll uh, just go now..."
Her hand reached out and grabbed his arm as he turned away, but quickly let go. John stopped in mid-stride and grinned. "You remembered."
She nodded. "I wouldn't want you to fall apart in the middle of school, after all."
"Wouldn't be the first time," John said under his breath.
"Hmm?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing. So uh...why did you stop me?"
"You didn't really trip, did you?"
The pit of John's stomach sunk to the bottom depths. He didn't expect that question, especially so bluntly.
Keep cool. Keep cool. Composure. Keep that last bit of pride you still have.
"No, I did trip. I mean, c'mon, I'm in no condition to fight some big football player. I mean, what if I lost an arm? Think of the ruckus it'd cause."
Yeah. That sounded good. Yeah...
"Don't lie to me, John," Jean said, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"Ow..." John glared and rubbed where she poked. She needs to trim her nails or something. "I'm not lying to you."
"Yes you are."
John gave her a sideways glance. "I thought you didn't go into people's heads without permission."
"I don't need telepathy to know that you aren't being honest. You're a bad liar."
"Am not."
"Yes you are."
"Shut up."
Jean chuckled softly before continuing. "Are you going to tell me the truth?"
Time seemed to stop for John Jashback. He weighed the options in his mind. Yes, the plan had failed, but if he told her, it might all work out in the end. Then again, it could totally blow up in his face. He could feed her more b.s. and just run away, or she could go into his head and find out the truth. What felt like an eternity of babbling incoherently in the corners of his mind turned out to only be a few seconds. To hell with it. He was going to tell her.
"The door is open, and the truth lies within. But do you dare enter the unknown...?" John said, trying his best to impersonate Rod Serling, pointing at his forehead.
It didn't work that well.
Once Jean had recovered from her fit of giggling, she gave him a serious look. "Are you sure about this?"
John nodded. "I'm no fancy orator, so I'll probably miss out on the important details. I figure you can get the whole story yourself, and easier. Just uh...ignore the other stuff, ok?"
Jean gave him a knowing smile, which didn't surprise John. She had to have gone into plenty of minds in her tenure has a telepath, he assured himself. She had to know the deepest, darkest secrets many people had, the Professor, too. They had to be good at keeping people's secrets to themselves, or else...they probably wouldn't be breathing anymore.
John tapped his head and said simply, "Go for it."
Pressing her fingertips to his temples, John shivered as if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on his head. After that, things just passed as a blur.
**********
John wasn't sure when he, for the lack of a more descriptive term, came back into reality. It couldn't have been long, as the hallways were still devoid of people. They couldn't have missed the bell, because he knew he sure as hell would notice if a gorgeous redhead had her hands on some random guy's head in the middle of a hall.
"Well?"
"You were right, you know," she said.
"I was? About what?" John asked.
"Scott really could have done this on his own. I don't know why he drug you into the situation."
"Heh, glad someone agrees with me. Not that it does me any good right now. Or you. Or Scott."
"True."
The two stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, well, at least for John. Jean seemed to be tucked away in her own thoughts.
"Er...so what are you going to do about all this?"
"That...is a good question. And right now, I just don't know..." she trailed off, looking very frustrated with herself.
John nodded. I think you made things worse when you kissed Duncan. Which reminded him...
"Er...I never got to say it, but thanks, for, y'know...essentially taking a bullet for me."
Jean smiled, and John immediatly went weak in the knees.
Damn you for being male, John. Hell, it isn't my fault.
"We're X-Men. We look out for each other," she said. "And I hope you understand that now."
"I do. I uh...yeah. I understand. Thanks, you know. If you uh, ever need me to kiss a girl who's about to kick your ass, well, you can come to me!"
The instant those words came out of his mouth, John knew they were totally inappropriate.
"Er...I...er...uh...sorry...er...yeah...uh...you know what I mean, right?"
Jean laughed softly and nodded. "Yes, and your welcome. I hope this means you still aren't thinking about leaving?"
Trying hard not to wince, John nodded. "I can't run away from my troubles forever. But right now, it seems like a good idea."
He turned and started walking away.
"Where are you going?" she called after him.
"Don't know," he replied, not turning back. "Anywhere but here sounds good."
Playing hooky on your second week of school? Naughty boy, John. Shut up, you stupid cricket.
"You're welcome to come with me," Even if I don't know where I'm going.
John heard her footsteps, but couldn't tell if they were approaching or fading...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If that whole 'cricket' thing John mutters about in his thoughts confuses you, go see the Disney version of Pinocchio, and it'll clear things up.
John groans alot. And sighs. And nods. The poor guy.
Post, you have no idea how overjoyed I am that you've reviewed the last few chapters. I was afraid that you'd disappeared on me, and with you...I dunno. You rock.