"You look awful."

Rogue looked up with bleary eyes. She'd come into the den to watch morning cartoons and promptly collapsed on the couch. Bobby had seen her when he was passing by, and was now looking at her concerned.

"Rogue, are you okay?"

"I didn't sleep well," she told him.

"You haven't been sleeping well for awhile," he told her gently. "Maybe you should tell the Professor--"

"I'm fine, Bobby," she told him firmly. "I can handle this on my own."

Bobby nodded and gave her a small, uncertain smile. "You sound like John."

Rogue attempted to smile back. "God forbid," she said teasingly. "Speaking of John, have you seen him?"

"Seen him?" Bobby asked tiredly. He ran a hand through his hair. "Not for the last two weeks, no. Anytime I try to get close he takes off. I'm worried about him, ever since Boston--I mean, I was angry at him, but I never wanted our friendship to get like this."

"I know," Rogue whispered. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"We should find him and talk this through," Bobby said. "This whole thing has gone on long enough."

Rogue looked over at Bobby sadly. She had already decided not to tell Bobby about her conversation with John, because she knew he had said things to her he wouldn't want Bobby to know. For some reason, even though she was the one that had hurt him and not Bobby, she had a feeling if he would talk to anyone it had to be her. "I don't think that's a good idea," she told him softly. "Maybe we should give him some space."

Bobby frowned. "Two weeks, Rogue--"

She nodded. "I know. But he's going through a hard time right now, and I think us backing him into a corner is the last thing he needs."

Reluctantly, Bobby nodded. "Okay. We'll give it a few more days, but if nothing changes, I think I'm going to see the Professor and ask--"

"Bobby, no," Rogue whispered, horrified. "That's the worst thing you could do. If John even heard you were thinking about it he would take off, and we'd probably never see him again."

"I didn't mean, I mean--I'm not going to betray him, Rogue. But he needs someone to help him."

"I know," Rogue nodded. "But he has to help himself first."

Bobby sighed. "Okay. Okay, you're right. Look, I'm going to get breakfast, why don't you join me?" Bobby asked her gently. "We can try and talk about something else for awhile."

Rogue shook her head. "I'm not hungry," she told him. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Bobby nodded. "Alright," he said disappointedly.

After Bobby had gone, Rogue stood and started back for her room. She'd been up almost the whole night worrying about John, and the guy had the nerve to wake up before her, looking as awake as ever and disappearing the moment she caught sight of him. She needed to see him, there was still so much unfinished business between them.

She was about to turn and start up the stairs when she saw him leaning against one of the wood paneled walls. He was looking directly at her, playing with his lighter.

"John," she started, but he shook his head.

"Not now," he told her simply. Then he walked away, and vanished down another hall.

Rogue sighed. Not now, he says. When then? He was a ghost during the days, slipping through the halls and doing his best to go unnoticed, and at nights--at nights he went god knows where and didn't come back until morning.

Rogue paused then, getting an idea. She smiled and continued back on the way to her room. That would work. Tonight, if he left the mansion, she would be waiting for him. And she was going to go with him, whether he wanted her to or not.

________________________________________________________

John exited his room with a sigh. He knew one of these nights, when he snuck out as had become routine, he was going to just keep going. And never come back.

He didn't know what it was that had stopped him so far, he couldn't figure out why he wasn't gone already. Something he couldn't put his finger on was keeping him here, and a part of him he didn't want to listen to was whispering that it was because of Rogue.

That would be stupid, though, because he knew better than to get attached to anyone. Rogue and Bobby both had gotten too close, it gave them the power to hurt him and that was unacceptable. That was why he had to leave.

But there was still something holding him back.

He slowed down as he neared Rogue's room, listening with half an ear just to make sure she wasn't having another nightmare. Not that he cared, of course.

But as he got closer he realized the door was open, and Rogue was outside in the hall, sitting on the floor with her back resting against the wall. She was wearing her favorite blue hooded jacket and a pair of black gloves.

John sighed in resignation. "What are you doing?" he demanded. He already knew.

Rogue got to her feet and smiled charmingly. "Why, I'm going with you."

"No," John said simply, moving passed her and starting down the stairs.

Rogue followed him undeterred. John rolled his eyes but didn't stop her. Together they crept out the main foyer and out the door.

"Where are we going?" Rogue asked.

John turned to face her. "Well, I'm going for a walk. You can head right back on inside. Isn't it past your bedtime?"

Rogue glared at him. "You're not getting rid of me tonight, St. John Allerdyce. So you might as well get used to it."

"Fine," he said simply. "I don't care what you do."

Rogue didn't believe that for a minute. She jogged up beside him. "So, where are we going?" she asked again.

He snorted. "You're annoying, you know--has anyone ever told you that?"

"Only you," Rogue told him.

"Well, that makes sense then," John said with a nod. "I'm always right."

"You still haven't told me where we're going," Rogue prompted.

"Maybe I'm not going anywhere," John said.

"Maybe you need to learn to give a straight answer," Rogue said wryly.

John grinned despite himself, and turned to look at her. "Have you always been like this?" he asked. "I seem to recall you being nicer."

"You bring out the worst in me," she told him with a wry grin.

"Yeah. I get that a lot."

John's voice was teasing, but there was something behind it that had Rogue thinking he thought it was true. "I'm only kidding," she said casually. "You're actually pretty good company when you're not being a complete jerk."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" John asked dubiously.

"Absolutely," Rogue nodded.

John moved off the main path and headed off through the grass. Rogue followed him curiously. There was a hole in the main gate, and John easily slipped through.

Rogue frowned at it. "That isn't good. We should tell the Professor there's a hole, someone could--"

John rolled his eyes and reached through the hole to grab a hold of her jacket and give her a tug through. "Do me a favor, will you? If you're going to follow me around all night, at least do it quietly."

Rogue made an affronted noise and pulled her arm from his grasp. "Fine. If you're going to be like this maybe I should just go back to the mansion--"

John turned away from her and started down the side walk. "See ya," he said.

Rogue growled and started after him. "That was where you were supposed to say, no, Rogue, I don't want you to leave."

"I thought you goodie-goodie's didn't approve of lying?" John asked innocently.

"You're impossible," Rogue told him.

The two fell silent then, and John led them through one of the local parks, then over a gate with a sign that read "No Trespassing." They went up the hill behind the park, Rogue following him, just barely stopping herself from asking where they were going again.

John smiled slightly when they finally reached a clearing, and he walked over to a drop off and looked down. Rogue followed him curiously, and gasped when she saw the view. "It's beautiful," she said looking down at all the city lights in the distance.

"I guess," John said dropping to sit on the ground. He leaned back on his elbows. "But that's not why I come here."

Rogue sat down beside him. "Why do you come here?" she asked him curiously.

"Because it's quiet," he said. Then he shot her a wry glance. "And to be alone."

Rogue gave a sheepish grin. "You already spend enough time alone."

"You've been spending a lot of time alone too," John said casually.

Rogue looked away. "How would you know?"

"Because it used to be whenever I saw you, you were with Bobby. Now anytime I see either of you, the other's no where in sight. Why?"

"It's hard to explain," Rogue said. "But I'm going through something right now, and Bobby can't help me with it."

John pulled out his lighter, and stared at it, studiously avoiding Rogue's eyes. "Maybe I can," he offered hesitantly.

Rogue turned to him in surprise, but nodded. "You're the only one who can," she said. "I just didn't want to ask."

"What are you talking about?" he asked with a frown.

"When I touched you, John," she said quietly. "I got more than temporary control of your powers."

"My memories," John said in realization. "The nightmares?"

Rogue nodded. "I've been having them every night." Rogue looked over at him. "Maybe if I understood them they would stop."

John looked uncomfortable; he started playing with his lighter. "What are you dreaming of?" he asked quietly.

"Fire."

John nodded, that much he could guess. He always dreamed of fire. "What else?" he asked.

"Someone is always screaming your name," she told him quietly. "And then I start to panic."

John got abruptly to his feet. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked back over to look down at the city lights. Rogue watched him from where she was. "What happened to you, John?"

"I don't go around whining about my life story, Rogue," John snapped.

Rogue was undeterred. "I'm not asking you to," she told him evenly. "I'm asking you to confide in a friend, John. We need this, both of us."

John swung around to face her. "You can't guess what happened? I set my house on fire," he told her offhandedly. "And then I put the fire out, which, believe it or not, was actually the worst thing I could have done."

"John," Rogue said soothingly. "What happened?"

John turned away from her again. "My mom had a bunch of candles out. She loved candles, and I always loved the fire. I was just sitting there, just-- just watching it, and it suddenly flared up, it spread to the table cloth, the curtain, to everything.

"My mom thought I knocked the candle over, she was mad, but more worried about calling for help and getting me out of the smoke than anything else. But I knew she was upset, and I wanted to fix it. I wanted to make the fire go away--so I held out my hand and it did."

"John," Rogue whispered.

"My mother started screaming at me, asking me what I was, I didn't know what she meant then, I was just a kid."

"Did you run away?" Rogue asked him gently.

John laughed, and it was so bitter that Rogue winced. "If I had known what was going to happen--I would have."

Rogue steeled herself, and got up to walk behind him. "What happened?"

"They handed me over to anti-mutant experimental group--asking them to 'fix' me," John said bitterly. "I was nearly killed."

"But you weren't," Rogue reminded. "Did Professor Xavier get you out?"

"I got myself out," he snapped. "There was a short in one of their machines, and there were a couple sparks--I turned them into fire." He paused. "I burned the guards pretty badly. It was the first time I had ever hurt anyone . . ."

Rogue looked at him understandingly. She remembered the first time she had hurt someone with her powers all too well. "That must have been hard for you."

"You're wrong. It was easy." John met her eyes. "That was what scared me."

Rogue could understand that too. She'd desperately wanted to hurt Magneto with her powers when she'd seen him on the X-Jet. "That's understandable, John. They'd hurt you. It was very brave of you to get away."

"Don't patronize me, Rogue," John snapped.

"I'm not," she told him quickly. "I'm trying to be a friend."

John ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

"What did you do then?" Rogue asked him quietly. "Did you go to Xavier's?"

John shook his head. "It was a few years before Xavier found me. I didn't go to the school until I was fifteen."

"What did you do until then?" Rogue asked, not sure she wanted to know. She hated to think of John out on his own, she knew how horrible that feeling was.

John turned to look at her. "Anything I had to."

Rogue went quiet, and John pulled out his lighter and sat on the ground. "Look," he said. "Can we not talk anymore?"

Rogue sat down beside him. "Sure," she whispered. "We don't have to talk anymore."

They both looked out the lights, and the only sound that penetrated the silence was John's lighter as he clicked it open and shut.

TBC

Author's Note: I didn't read the comics, so if they give a back story on John, I don't know about it. I decided to just make one up . . .