Nothing but water could be seen for miles to the north, south, east, and west. Through every window, the ocean showed its ugly face and seemed to scowl upon the rest of the world. I'm the omega! It seemed to scream. I'm the life force! Bow down to me! The element didn't need vocal cords to speak. It used its mysterious depths and frigid temperature to enlighten anyone that dared defy it. The ocean, John concluded, was the biggest son of a bitch there ever was.

The way it could change on you at any given moment, the way its inhabitants glared at you if you entered their domain- it was more than John could ever imagine to bear. Of course, his dislike of the liquid element could have something to do with his particular mutation: the ability to manipulate and control fire. What fire hadn't been quenched by water? What fire hadn't been dominated by its damn opposite? Pyro sneered and peered out of the window again; the water was his unspoken enemy.

But there were other enemies that were unspoken that could speak to him. Mystique perhaps? Toad, Magento, Psylocke: what about them? Were they all just trying to convince him to join the Brotherhood? Was this all apart of their plan? John thought even deeper. Was Toad telling me the truth?

"Unfortunately, he was, Pyro," the metallic voice said.

Pyro unlatched his eyes from the pane of glass and looked toward the cockpit. He sneered at the pilot.

"You know, I'm getting sick and tired of everyone knowing exactly what I'm thinking all the time. And there you are, sitting comfortably in your chair while I'm racking my goddamn brains over what the hell I'm going to do!"

John was fuming and his body raised and lowered with each hurried breath. Mystique simply smiled and flicked the 'Auto Pilot' switch to her right; she beckoned the enraged mutant to sit next to her. Cautiously, he glanced her over. Apparently, he had assessed the situation and found no threat. He pushed aside his unbuckled seatbelt and sat himself in the co-pilot's seat. He waited.

She didn't speak to him for a moment. But then, she parted her blue lips and spoke to him carefully.

"Pyro, everything Toad told you was irrefutably true. Luckily, he didn't tell you the rest of the story; I wanted to be the first to tell you but," she shrugged, showing her beautifully muscled shoulders, "things don't always work out the way we want them to, do they? You should know this more than anyone." She smiled at him and it grew larger as she watched his form shiver. She enjoyed the mental pain that he felt from her mere words. But was that really what she wanted?

John closed his eyes for a moment. He felt his eyes sting with sudden tears and his face became flushed from the sudden rush of blood. He wished that he could just disappear; or better yet, jump out of the helicopter and let the waves take him under and finish the job that he had thought of doing himself so many times before.

You don't want to do that.

Something whispered to him, but he did his best to shut it out.

Pyro, you don't want to end it. You want to be powerful and accepted. You want others to suffer the way that you have. Don't deny it because it's true. Don't fight it, because you know you don't want to.

Like a brief gust of wind, the voice was gone and John felt himself looking out of the front windshield of the chopper; he fought back the tears that had started moments ago. He wouldn't let them fall. He didn't want to show his weakness to the woman next to him. She was strong, and he had to be stronger.

"It's such a pity," Mystique's voice suddenly said.

John didn't turn to her, but she had his full attention. He wanted to know what the ruthless shape shifter held pity for. It would be a miracle if she said 'mankind'. But of course, it would be something else; something to do with him. And it was.

"It's not fair to you," she continued, "that no one at the Xavier mansion has recognized your miraculous talent, your power, as a true gift. Who would want to make ice? Tell me. Who would want to touch people and take their powers? What a waste. And fireworks... don't even get me started on those."

The blue mutant watched as Pyro started to tense. She knew that she had struck a nerve there, but she was careful enough that he wouldn't burst on her. She needed him to be completely agreeable in this matter. She needed him to accept whatever she chose to tell him, even if it meant turning the ones that he used to love into the ones that he would eventually hate.

Surprised by his voice, Mystique almost jumped as Pyro began to speak. Slowly, he began his sentence:

"I... Have you..." he paused for a moment, unsure of where to take this question. But he had to know. He continued.

"Have you ever been in love, Mystique?"

Silence filled the cockpit. John could tell that he had now tunneled into something that threatened to burst. He didn't want her to be offended, but he wanted to know. Had the rough, sadistic Mystique ever had feelings for anyone deeper that loathe or disgust? Or could she only contain superficial feelings, which prohibited her from being deeply involved at all?

"That would be the word for it, wouldn't it?" The words choked out of her as if they expanded inside of her very throat and fought to stay in. "Superficial... shallow," she murmured. The expression on her face was no longer smiling, no longer contained any feeling. But then a new look adorned her face: a look of complete and utter sadness.

She sat for a moment with her hands unnecessarily placed on the steering unit. She furrowed her forehead as she spoke:

"Almost," she whispered so that he could barely hear. "I've almost fallen in love once. Erik told me that it was nonsense though." She looked absently out of the windshield. John felt compelled to say something, but none of the words that he could think of seemed right at all.

"So you were in love with Magneto?" He asked.

"No," she replied, "Not with Erik. It was... someone else. I'd thought about it for a while. Then Erik told me that it was just plain nonsense; he reminded me of who I was and who my interest was, and that I was not to think about him ever again."

She shrugged and tried to hide a sniffle, but John heard. He had heard it all. Carefully, he inched closer to her and kneeled down between the two pilot seats. She tried to pull her hand away when he reached for it, but he knew that she didn't really want that. He knew in his very core that Mystique, no matter how evil she appeared to be, no matter how murderous she could become, was still a real person. She had real feelings; she was a woman- an extraordinary woman.

John gently held both of her hands and spoke to her softly.

"Mystique, you don't need this. I know what kind of a person you are. Erik's made you believe that the only person that you can trust is him. But believe me," he grasped her hands tighter in his and watched as she turned to face him, "you don't need that. You are so much more of a person than he is and you don't even realize it. And just because you were forbidden to love someone, doesn't mean that you have to stop completely."

They both were still in their own stances- the shape shifter in her seat and John kneeling beside her. And at that moment, John saw something that he would never forget; the most painful experience of his entire existence lay before him.

It was more agonizing than being confined in the laboratory, more so than the trials and the blinding white lights. This mere occurrence stung his heart and he felt his blood run cold. This was more painful than smashing his hand into that mirror so long ago, more than the excruciating and searing thoughts that accompanied his nightmares.

As he gazed at Mystique's face he felt his heart leap, for a single tear ran down her lovely face.