There Must Be Some Kind of Way Out of Here
Chapter 37
Author's Note: You know the routine. Stuff in italics are thoughts and I 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 there's your warning.
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"I won't tell anyone, if you don't want me to."
"Tell anyone what?"
"What you told me, back in the park."
"Oh." There was a brief pause in her words. "Thank you."
"It felt good, getting all that stuff off your chest, didn't it?"
"Yes...yes, it did."
"Of course, this means you owe me now."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, since I let you vent and talk and all that, that means you're going to have to do that for me, at least once."
Jean very nearly tripped and fell flat on her face, but she caught herself just in time. "Alright then, I guess that's fair."
The duo were steadily making their way along a winding road, surrounded by the dense forest. John uselessly cursed himself for not owning a car.
"How much farther?" John moaned.
"You know, for a guy, you're pretty whiny."
"Hey, do your arms fall off? No, didn't think so." Jean just rolled her eyes. John half-grinned, half-sneered. "I think that allows me to complain, a little bit." It was a low blow, and probably one of the cheesiest excuses someone could use, but hey, who was gonna argue with a statement like that?
Besides, it was the best excuse he had. He wasn't sure if that were a good thing or a bad thing...
"Just around this curve, and it'll be in sight."
And she was right.
John could see a clearing through the trees, and sure enough, once he had passed that curve, he could see the Institute in a massive clearing, forest on one side of it, and a large concrete wall wrapping around it. It looked like a really fancy prison.
That description didn't do much to make John feel better.
Up until that moment, he had pushed out most of thoughts of whatever kind of trouble they'd be in. It was just better to not think about those sorts of things.
But now that he was back, he couldn't stop thinking about that, even if his life depended on it. Wonder what they'll do to me... They could ground me, or give me a big workload of chores or something. I guess it's not a good time to ask why I bother doing Danger Room sessions... And I'm too old for spankings. I just hope they know that, too...
"What are they going to do to us?" John asked timidly.
"Huh?"
"When we get back...we're bound to get in trouble. What are they going to do to us?"
"Oh, well, I'm not sure. We're not troublemakers or anything like that." She paused, and glanced over at him. "Well, I'm not a troublemaker, so I'll get off with some sort of restriction, and whatever the school does. You, on the other hand..."
John groaned. As good looking as she was, Jean Grey could be downright depressing sometimes.
"But...none of what I've done is really my fault..." he pleaded with her. "I don't want to get...I dunno, maimed or anything."
What the hell, John? Are you going for 'Hypocrite of the Year' or something? Choose one: is all this crap that's happened been your fault, or hasn't it? I swear, every time I turn around it's 'Oh, it isn't my fault' or 'I brought it onto myself.' I'm getting pretty sick and tired of it, you know? You should, too, seeing that we're one in the same.
John drowned the whining tone of his conscience long enough to hear Jean laugh and say something like, "You only have to worry about that if Logan doles out the punishments."
It did little to soothe his ruffled feathers.
When they reached the front gate, Jean walked over to a small keypad in a post by the gate, and punched in a set of numbers. The doors swung inward, and the two stepped inside.
Gotta remember to get that number. I reckon using the gate is easier than scaling the wall, yes? Yes...
It wasn't long before John's nagging conscience started up again.
I don't remember this driveway being so long. Of course you don't, you've always been in a car when you come down this road. Right, right. My feet hurt. Yes, they do. Are we there yet? My feet hurt.
He said the last sentences out loud.
"You're right...I am whiny," John added.
"You think your feet hurt? I'm the one wearing sandals. They aren't exactly meant for the cross-country hiking we've done today," Jean said, pointing down to the feet and shoes in question.
That shut John up rather quickly.
They were about three-quarters of the way to the door when he piped up again. "So uh...are we just supposed to waltz in and say 'Hello, we're back, reporting for our punishments,' or do we let them come to us?"
"Oh, they probably already know we're here."
That didn't make John feel any better.
Ororo met the two at the door, and said nothing. She simply motioned them to follow her. It wasn't long afterwards when Logan came into step behind the pair. That seriously didn't make John feel any better.
Sure enough, they went up the stairs and down a few hallways until they reached the Professor's study. The four stepped inside and flanked either side of the Professor, who sat in middle of the room, his hands folded in his lap. John felt as if he were facing the firing squad. He would have been sweating bullets if he wasn't already worked up from all the walking.
Where's my blindfold and cigarette?
He considering saying it out loud, to try and ease the mood, but wisely chose against it. He didn't have much of a knack for comedic timing.
"So..." Professor Xavier began, "Would you two care to explain your actions?"
John glanced over at Jean, who was doing the same to him. He nodded his head in their direction, trying to get her to talk to them.
You don't have to make stupid gestures, John. I am a telepath, remember?
John felt the heat rise to his face. Er. Right. Sorry. So uh...you talk to them. I think it'll be harder for them to kill us if you do the explaining.
Her only reply was Pfft and...John swore that he could...feel Jean toss her head, even if she didn't move at all in reality.
"Don't worry, John," the Professor said in a fatherly tone. "There will be no...killing done here today."
The other two adults wore puzzled expressions before realizing that a mental conversation was going on. Ororo brought up a hand to mute her laughter. Logan just snorted and shook his head.
It didn't do much to make John feel any better. By now, he was having trouble standing up. He was never one for confrontations.
"There's not much to say," Jean began. "Something happened at school, and we felt it would be best if we just left. We know it was wrong, and there's no excuse for skipping. We will accept any punishment you deem necessary."
"I hear a lot of 'we' from Red, Gimpy," Logan growled. "Why don't you say something?"
"Er uh..." John muttered, his voice shaky. "Well uh...she basically uh, you know, uh...said all that needed saying...uh...yeah..."
"Very well. I see that the two of you understand the consequences of your actions," the Professor said. "Jean, you will be grounded for a week, and are not to leave the Institute, except for school or any school-related activity. Along with whatever punishment the school gives."
She nodded, as if expecting no less.
"If you'd excuse us please, Jean, we'd like to have a little discussion with John here."
"Thank you Professor," she said, before looking over to John. She shrugged her shoulders and gave him an 'I'm Sorry' look. The instant the door closed behind her, John felt himself barely managing to stand, holding onto the last bit of his courage by his fingernails. Confrontations such as this were definitely not for him, and he seriously hoped he could maintain the composure to not break into tears.
Calm down, calm down. No need to overreact. I'm sure it's nothing...
"Mr. Jashback..." Professor Xavier said slowly. "We received a call from the school today. It seems you were a participant in an altercation with another student?"
Crap. When an adult calls you by your first and middle name, or just by your last name, trouble always follows...
"Er...well, sort of. It wasn't much of a fight. He hit me once, and then I left..."
The Professor gave him a considering look. "Restraint. That's always a good thing. Especially when you have such...sensitive abilities. Regardless, this has been the second fight you've been in at school since arriving, and if what the other students say is true, there are two more to add to that list."
Craaaaaaap.
John only nodded.
"I don't believe the problem is a lack of discipline... I don't believe you're the one to pick fights, not with your...sensitive abilities." There's that 'sensitive' thing again. It's a pretty apt description, though. "However, I cannot allow this to go unpunished. I'm going to give you four weeks on restriction, on the same terms as Jean." How funny. Four weeks - four fights. If they could be called that. One-sided, one-sided, quickie, and a quickie. "You will also attend a week of special training sessions with Logan." The man in question grinned, causing John to shiver. "Along with what the school does with you. Do you have any questions?" His tone left little room for arguing.
Well, so much for talking about not doing Danger Room sessions...
"No sir," John said simply.
The Professor nodded. "Remember John, we're doing this for your own good."
John nodded. He was right, and besides, it's not like he had much to do. He didn't know where anything in Bayville was, and had no friends outside the Institute. Being locked inside for four weeks didn't seem that big of a deal.
Of course, it meant he and Amara couldn't go out on any dates.
Oh well. I'll live.
You don't seem too upset, not being able to go out with your...girlfriend.
Is she my girlfriend? I guess. I don't know. And yeah, I guess I'm not so upset.
And why are you not so upset, hmm Mister Smarty-Pants?
Hrm. I don't know. I'm just not upset.
Uh-huh...you forget, Johnny-Boy, that I am you and you are me. I know what you're thinking.
Then why are we having this conversation?
Why? Good question. You know the answer.
Er. No, I don't.
Do you think that maybe...just maybe...it has something to do with your not having feelings for Amara?
What the hell are you talking about? Of course I have feelings for her. That stupid kiss I did in front of everyone isn't proof enough?
That...that hardly counts. There's a different between love and lust, my friend.
Er, well, don't you think I'm a little young to be worrying about love? Isn't it a little early in my relationship with her to be thinking about that?
No to the first question, and yes to the other. But why are we worrying about such foolishness? You know the answer to this whole thing. Why don't you just admit it?
I don't know what you're talking about.
The voice...sighed. There was no better way to describe it.
John, John, John... Stop being stupid. You know what the answer is. Do you need me to give you a hint?
Sure. Why not?
It's because...you...don't...like...Amara...
Er. No, that's not right. Why wouldn't I like her? She's a good kisser...
The other voice interrupted. It's not like you have a whole lot to base that against.
Shut up. You want me to answer your stupid question?
Calm down, Johnny-Boy. I was only teasing. Now please, finish your story, if you would be so kind.
Bite my ass. As I was saying, why wouldn't I like her? She's cute, she's a good kisser, she's nice, she doesn't instantly run from me and my falling arms... John ignored the voice's protests, shouting about the fire caused by her freaking over his arm. ...Amara's just...just...why wouldn't I like her?
Because...you like someone else.
The mental exchange stopped and silence was all that was heard. Or felt..
I'm right, aren't I?
The silence continued.
Damn right, I'm right. Or, you're right. That doesn't matter. We're right. And you know it. You like someone else, which is why this isn't such a big deal. Admit it. I'm right. You're right. We're right.
I...I...
Laughter filled his head.
Hey genius, why don't you stop talking to me and pay attention to where you are?
What are you...talking...about... Shit.
Almost like waking up from a bad dream, John snapped back into reality. The room was empty. He looked all around, but the adults were gone. He looked down to see a piece of paper taped to his chest.
"Dear John," it read, in beautiful, flowing letters. I guess Ororo wrote this. Unless Logan has a little secret...
"I trust you will read this, once you come out of your daze. You know your punishment for what you did, and fortunately, the Professor was finished talking before you drifted off into your fantasy world. I suspect he knew what caused it, but he neglected to tell Logan or I." Well, I guess I was right about Ororo writing this. Relief washed over him. The thought of Logan writing so...pretty...was just frightening. "Don't worry. In time, you will come to learn we're just a big family, taking care of one another as best as we can, and one day, I hope you will see us in that way."
The note ended there, but he couldn't help but laugh at it. It was awful thoughtful of them to do that. Of course, the embarrassment he felt quickly overtook his joyful demeanor.
What the hell were you thinking, doing that to me? He received no response from himself. He wasn't sure if that should make him feel better, or worse.
Shaking his head, John folded the piece of paper and slipped it into his pocket. A rather ornate clock on the wall said it was just now 3:30.
I gotta find Jean, and make sure she fixes this whole hullabaloo with Scott. That's the last thing I need - her backing out at the last second.
Relieved that the room was empty, and hoping he wouldn't run into Logan, Ororo, or the Professor any time soon, he left the room, hoping his search for Jean would be rather short. He wanted to get his sheets into the wash and back up to his room before the others got back...
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There's only one thing that I know how to do well and I've often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well and that's be you, be what you're like, be like yourself.
Chapter 37
Author's Note: You know the routine. Stuff in italics are thoughts and I 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 there's your warning.
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"I won't tell anyone, if you don't want me to."
"Tell anyone what?"
"What you told me, back in the park."
"Oh." There was a brief pause in her words. "Thank you."
"It felt good, getting all that stuff off your chest, didn't it?"
"Yes...yes, it did."
"Of course, this means you owe me now."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, since I let you vent and talk and all that, that means you're going to have to do that for me, at least once."
Jean very nearly tripped and fell flat on her face, but she caught herself just in time. "Alright then, I guess that's fair."
The duo were steadily making their way along a winding road, surrounded by the dense forest. John uselessly cursed himself for not owning a car.
"How much farther?" John moaned.
"You know, for a guy, you're pretty whiny."
"Hey, do your arms fall off? No, didn't think so." Jean just rolled her eyes. John half-grinned, half-sneered. "I think that allows me to complain, a little bit." It was a low blow, and probably one of the cheesiest excuses someone could use, but hey, who was gonna argue with a statement like that?
Besides, it was the best excuse he had. He wasn't sure if that were a good thing or a bad thing...
"Just around this curve, and it'll be in sight."
And she was right.
John could see a clearing through the trees, and sure enough, once he had passed that curve, he could see the Institute in a massive clearing, forest on one side of it, and a large concrete wall wrapping around it. It looked like a really fancy prison.
That description didn't do much to make John feel better.
Up until that moment, he had pushed out most of thoughts of whatever kind of trouble they'd be in. It was just better to not think about those sorts of things.
But now that he was back, he couldn't stop thinking about that, even if his life depended on it. Wonder what they'll do to me... They could ground me, or give me a big workload of chores or something. I guess it's not a good time to ask why I bother doing Danger Room sessions... And I'm too old for spankings. I just hope they know that, too...
"What are they going to do to us?" John asked timidly.
"Huh?"
"When we get back...we're bound to get in trouble. What are they going to do to us?"
"Oh, well, I'm not sure. We're not troublemakers or anything like that." She paused, and glanced over at him. "Well, I'm not a troublemaker, so I'll get off with some sort of restriction, and whatever the school does. You, on the other hand..."
John groaned. As good looking as she was, Jean Grey could be downright depressing sometimes.
"But...none of what I've done is really my fault..." he pleaded with her. "I don't want to get...I dunno, maimed or anything."
What the hell, John? Are you going for 'Hypocrite of the Year' or something? Choose one: is all this crap that's happened been your fault, or hasn't it? I swear, every time I turn around it's 'Oh, it isn't my fault' or 'I brought it onto myself.' I'm getting pretty sick and tired of it, you know? You should, too, seeing that we're one in the same.
John drowned the whining tone of his conscience long enough to hear Jean laugh and say something like, "You only have to worry about that if Logan doles out the punishments."
It did little to soothe his ruffled feathers.
When they reached the front gate, Jean walked over to a small keypad in a post by the gate, and punched in a set of numbers. The doors swung inward, and the two stepped inside.
Gotta remember to get that number. I reckon using the gate is easier than scaling the wall, yes? Yes...
It wasn't long before John's nagging conscience started up again.
I don't remember this driveway being so long. Of course you don't, you've always been in a car when you come down this road. Right, right. My feet hurt. Yes, they do. Are we there yet? My feet hurt.
He said the last sentences out loud.
"You're right...I am whiny," John added.
"You think your feet hurt? I'm the one wearing sandals. They aren't exactly meant for the cross-country hiking we've done today," Jean said, pointing down to the feet and shoes in question.
That shut John up rather quickly.
They were about three-quarters of the way to the door when he piped up again. "So uh...are we just supposed to waltz in and say 'Hello, we're back, reporting for our punishments,' or do we let them come to us?"
"Oh, they probably already know we're here."
That didn't make John feel any better.
Ororo met the two at the door, and said nothing. She simply motioned them to follow her. It wasn't long afterwards when Logan came into step behind the pair. That seriously didn't make John feel any better.
Sure enough, they went up the stairs and down a few hallways until they reached the Professor's study. The four stepped inside and flanked either side of the Professor, who sat in middle of the room, his hands folded in his lap. John felt as if he were facing the firing squad. He would have been sweating bullets if he wasn't already worked up from all the walking.
Where's my blindfold and cigarette?
He considering saying it out loud, to try and ease the mood, but wisely chose against it. He didn't have much of a knack for comedic timing.
"So..." Professor Xavier began, "Would you two care to explain your actions?"
John glanced over at Jean, who was doing the same to him. He nodded his head in their direction, trying to get her to talk to them.
You don't have to make stupid gestures, John. I am a telepath, remember?
John felt the heat rise to his face. Er. Right. Sorry. So uh...you talk to them. I think it'll be harder for them to kill us if you do the explaining.
Her only reply was Pfft and...John swore that he could...feel Jean toss her head, even if she didn't move at all in reality.
"Don't worry, John," the Professor said in a fatherly tone. "There will be no...killing done here today."
The other two adults wore puzzled expressions before realizing that a mental conversation was going on. Ororo brought up a hand to mute her laughter. Logan just snorted and shook his head.
It didn't do much to make John feel any better. By now, he was having trouble standing up. He was never one for confrontations.
"There's not much to say," Jean began. "Something happened at school, and we felt it would be best if we just left. We know it was wrong, and there's no excuse for skipping. We will accept any punishment you deem necessary."
"I hear a lot of 'we' from Red, Gimpy," Logan growled. "Why don't you say something?"
"Er uh..." John muttered, his voice shaky. "Well uh...she basically uh, you know, uh...said all that needed saying...uh...yeah..."
"Very well. I see that the two of you understand the consequences of your actions," the Professor said. "Jean, you will be grounded for a week, and are not to leave the Institute, except for school or any school-related activity. Along with whatever punishment the school gives."
She nodded, as if expecting no less.
"If you'd excuse us please, Jean, we'd like to have a little discussion with John here."
"Thank you Professor," she said, before looking over to John. She shrugged her shoulders and gave him an 'I'm Sorry' look. The instant the door closed behind her, John felt himself barely managing to stand, holding onto the last bit of his courage by his fingernails. Confrontations such as this were definitely not for him, and he seriously hoped he could maintain the composure to not break into tears.
Calm down, calm down. No need to overreact. I'm sure it's nothing...
"Mr. Jashback..." Professor Xavier said slowly. "We received a call from the school today. It seems you were a participant in an altercation with another student?"
Crap. When an adult calls you by your first and middle name, or just by your last name, trouble always follows...
"Er...well, sort of. It wasn't much of a fight. He hit me once, and then I left..."
The Professor gave him a considering look. "Restraint. That's always a good thing. Especially when you have such...sensitive abilities. Regardless, this has been the second fight you've been in at school since arriving, and if what the other students say is true, there are two more to add to that list."
Craaaaaaap.
John only nodded.
"I don't believe the problem is a lack of discipline... I don't believe you're the one to pick fights, not with your...sensitive abilities." There's that 'sensitive' thing again. It's a pretty apt description, though. "However, I cannot allow this to go unpunished. I'm going to give you four weeks on restriction, on the same terms as Jean." How funny. Four weeks - four fights. If they could be called that. One-sided, one-sided, quickie, and a quickie. "You will also attend a week of special training sessions with Logan." The man in question grinned, causing John to shiver. "Along with what the school does with you. Do you have any questions?" His tone left little room for arguing.
Well, so much for talking about not doing Danger Room sessions...
"No sir," John said simply.
The Professor nodded. "Remember John, we're doing this for your own good."
John nodded. He was right, and besides, it's not like he had much to do. He didn't know where anything in Bayville was, and had no friends outside the Institute. Being locked inside for four weeks didn't seem that big of a deal.
Of course, it meant he and Amara couldn't go out on any dates.
Oh well. I'll live.
You don't seem too upset, not being able to go out with your...girlfriend.
Is she my girlfriend? I guess. I don't know. And yeah, I guess I'm not so upset.
And why are you not so upset, hmm Mister Smarty-Pants?
Hrm. I don't know. I'm just not upset.
Uh-huh...you forget, Johnny-Boy, that I am you and you are me. I know what you're thinking.
Then why are we having this conversation?
Why? Good question. You know the answer.
Er. No, I don't.
Do you think that maybe...just maybe...it has something to do with your not having feelings for Amara?
What the hell are you talking about? Of course I have feelings for her. That stupid kiss I did in front of everyone isn't proof enough?
That...that hardly counts. There's a different between love and lust, my friend.
Er, well, don't you think I'm a little young to be worrying about love? Isn't it a little early in my relationship with her to be thinking about that?
No to the first question, and yes to the other. But why are we worrying about such foolishness? You know the answer to this whole thing. Why don't you just admit it?
I don't know what you're talking about.
The voice...sighed. There was no better way to describe it.
John, John, John... Stop being stupid. You know what the answer is. Do you need me to give you a hint?
Sure. Why not?
It's because...you...don't...like...Amara...
Er. No, that's not right. Why wouldn't I like her? She's a good kisser...
The other voice interrupted. It's not like you have a whole lot to base that against.
Shut up. You want me to answer your stupid question?
Calm down, Johnny-Boy. I was only teasing. Now please, finish your story, if you would be so kind.
Bite my ass. As I was saying, why wouldn't I like her? She's cute, she's a good kisser, she's nice, she doesn't instantly run from me and my falling arms... John ignored the voice's protests, shouting about the fire caused by her freaking over his arm. ...Amara's just...just...why wouldn't I like her?
Because...you like someone else.
The mental exchange stopped and silence was all that was heard. Or felt..
I'm right, aren't I?
The silence continued.
Damn right, I'm right. Or, you're right. That doesn't matter. We're right. And you know it. You like someone else, which is why this isn't such a big deal. Admit it. I'm right. You're right. We're right.
I...I...
Laughter filled his head.
Hey genius, why don't you stop talking to me and pay attention to where you are?
What are you...talking...about... Shit.
Almost like waking up from a bad dream, John snapped back into reality. The room was empty. He looked all around, but the adults were gone. He looked down to see a piece of paper taped to his chest.
"Dear John," it read, in beautiful, flowing letters. I guess Ororo wrote this. Unless Logan has a little secret...
"I trust you will read this, once you come out of your daze. You know your punishment for what you did, and fortunately, the Professor was finished talking before you drifted off into your fantasy world. I suspect he knew what caused it, but he neglected to tell Logan or I." Well, I guess I was right about Ororo writing this. Relief washed over him. The thought of Logan writing so...pretty...was just frightening. "Don't worry. In time, you will come to learn we're just a big family, taking care of one another as best as we can, and one day, I hope you will see us in that way."
The note ended there, but he couldn't help but laugh at it. It was awful thoughtful of them to do that. Of course, the embarrassment he felt quickly overtook his joyful demeanor.
What the hell were you thinking, doing that to me? He received no response from himself. He wasn't sure if that should make him feel better, or worse.
Shaking his head, John folded the piece of paper and slipped it into his pocket. A rather ornate clock on the wall said it was just now 3:30.
I gotta find Jean, and make sure she fixes this whole hullabaloo with Scott. That's the last thing I need - her backing out at the last second.
Relieved that the room was empty, and hoping he wouldn't run into Logan, Ororo, or the Professor any time soon, he left the room, hoping his search for Jean would be rather short. He wanted to get his sheets into the wash and back up to his room before the others got back...
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There's only one thing that I know how to do well and I've often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well and that's be you, be what you're like, be like yourself.