"Do you think we'll ever see Pyro again?" Marie asked, looking toward his bed for the first time since we returned without him. Somehow she seemed to avoid it all through the summer and into fall. I was laying on my bed staring at the ceiling and she was sitting beside me like she normally did with her legs folded beneath her like a cat. However, she had turned to look over her shoulder toward the empty bed. They hadn't found someone to take his place or maybe they were just holding it in case he showed up on the front steps one day.

"I think it's possible. John may actually work out whatever it was that chased him from here." I put my hand on her arm. The heat of her through her silk shirt was oddly comforting this time, as though she wasn't being boiled alive.

"You don't worry about what Mystique and Magneto will do to him, do you?" She hadn't turned to me like she normally did when I touched her. In fact, it seemed as though she got further away from me by the moment.

I squeezed her arm. "He's not you, and he went of his own free will. Sure, I worry, but I'd be insane by now if I let everyone's decisions consume me when I didn't agree." Somehow the pause seemed to let us both sink into the foreboding possibilities. "Besides, if they had some horrible interest in him, I hate to say it, but we'd have a body or a news story to follow up on." She shivered and seemed so far away that I couldn't touch her, though I could feel her muscles clench beneath my hand. It was at moments like this that I wanted to be able to kiss her and hold her and get lost in all the physical things other couples could do. I wanted to do it as much to comfort us as to distract myself from my greatest fear. I couldn't bring myself to say it even to Marie, or Rogue. It wasn't finding John's body and burying him. It was facing the reality that the next time we fought Magneto that I could be fighting John for real and for my life. I didn't know what would happen if I had to make that choice to cross over into life or death struggles with him.

"Why focus on such dire thoughts, Rogue? My mother would say" I began and caught myself on another raft of depression. "-nevermind." I began to sink into the reality of life after Boston. I knew that if I went there the nightmares could easily come back and I didn't want to chance it. I was tired of seeing flames, and repudiation by my family on my eyelids at night. Time for a decent distraction. "Come on." I pulled her hand to bring her back to the here and now and me. "I'm hungry. Let's go order a pizza or something. You know, it's movie night and I want to get the comfy couch."

For a second she sat unmoving, I think I could have seen the memories in her eyes if she had let me. For a moment, I feared one of her torrential outbursts that always left me feeling like a shell of a person. My stomach growled loudly in the awkward pause, and she smiled. I felt it in her shadow.

"Bobby, you're always hungry."

"Of course. I'm growing. With all this eating though, I'm gonna grow into a hell of a man." I patted my stomach as I rolled off the bed and on to the floor.

She laughed looking down. I knew I could have gotten lost in those eyes especially when she was sad. The laugh sounded a bit forced and strident before my stomach grumbled again. "If I were you, Bobby Drake, I'd just be thankful that they keep us moving or all that pizza would make you grow into a hell of a wide man."

***

There are times when I never expected that Scott and Professor Xavier would recognize the fact that we were adults. I think in some part of the mind's eye they share we would all continue to be children forever. If we were, Jean would still be here, and time wouldn't have agonizingly passed through each sunrise and sunset. I can't say that Marie and I achieved those adult relationships that Logan tried to tease me about on that fateful night. Some days it was what I wanted most in the world, other nights, I was completely content living within the confines of stolen kisses. I pondered the Victorians a time or two. When you fall in love with someone whose touch could mean death, you get used to the layers and layers of fabric. The smallest glimpses of ankles and shoulders can get my heart racing faster than running Scott's obstacle course. It was preparation for the Danger Room. The day was coming when that would fill in hours of the day in place of classes.

--Diary of Bobby Drake

"So, today's the day. Excited to be finished, short stuff?" Logan asked leaning against the door leading to the elevator.

"Logan, don't call me "short stuff"," Marie began, adjusting her uniform again and again. Though no wrinkles were apparent, she fidgeted as though she was covered in sand and shrink-wrapped. "On second thought, don't call me anything right now. I'm so nervous I could get sick."

Watching her, I'm sure that she felt that way. I know I did. It's funny. We'd been waiting months and months for this day and now it was killing us. For a woman who was used to being covered, Marie seemed to be chafing in the confinement of her own expectations. Once we walked through the door, we wouldn't be children anymore. We'd be team members and the excitement was thundering through us. I also tried to remind myself that to ranking officers that soldiers are often children too. Young, cocky, and inexperienced. Check, check, and check. We've got it covered. I just hoped that the rest of the empty beds were due to choice rather than massacre.

"Bobby, are you ready?" Marie was saying something to me and the thinking had to stop. Time for a smile and maybe a rose to show the confidence that I didn't feel. Lately, while I wanted to break the surface and be a responsible member of the team, I felt like I was choking slowly. Peter had his moniker firmly attached; he talked about how he-Colossus--was going to change the world. Admittedly, he did well in the simulator, but he didn't watch Rogue nearly plunge to her death after the rear of the jet exploded, he didn't watch Jean drown for us, and he didn't seem to really comprehend the enormity of what we would be doing.

"Rogue, I was born ready."

"Watch it, Bobby. 'Overconfidence is the last thing you want once you cross that threshold.'" Rogue mimicked Scott's endless droning monologues on what to do when confronted with the Danger Room. It was pretty good if I do say so myself, but we've had plenty of practiced. I'm biased.

We had a few minutes to wait while they were setting up the new scenario. Since Rogue's powers were more defensive than offensive, the two of us were being tested on our teamwork in an intelligence mission. With the recent history of the X-Men, we became all too aware that we didn't have enough people to send a complete complement on occasion. The professor decided to try something new-rather than leave us off balance in skeleton crew situations, we started these missions in small teams of two. I was surprised to find that even the veteran members of the team were scheduled with extra Danger Room time. Storm told us this would be an intelligence mission rather than a combat one before she retired to the observation deck. Logan merely bowed before the door after giving me a look that froze me cold. I knew it meant that nothing should happen to Rogue on my watch. I planned to live up to that.

The hiss of the metallic doors opening was enough to send me running for the hills. Rogue's smile and her hand coaxed me across the threshold. I doubt she knew anything was wrong.

"Ready, Rogue?" I whispered as the air in front of us began to coalesce into shapes.

"I was born ready, Bobby."