It was cold, he knew that much.
'This is stupid,'
He'd left without a plan of action, he left without weapons, and he'd left without any idea of where he was going.
He was lost. Again.
He'd gotten turned around somehow, the snow had covered his friends' tracks, everything looked the same. Then the pain, the horrible pain!. It coursed through his body, making him lose control.
His body had gotten hot, so hot he wanted to tear off all his clothes and cover himself with snow to cool off, but the snow was melting all around him. The water soaked through his clothes, made tiny streams over the newly exposed rocks and dirt underneath.
He hadn't wanted to die. He had things to live for: he wanted to go places, do things, he wanted to live. Live, breathe, experience.
He was still a child when it came to things like that.
Then, the Cerebro pulse stopped, and John could breathe again. He had a splitting migraine, it throbbed painfully behind his eyes, but he was alive, and he could walk. So he did.
He was still lost, the Cerebro pulse made it even harder to concentrate on where he was supposed to go. He'd been wandering for over an hour, he realized as he checked his watch.
'Where the Hell am I?!' he thought in frustration.
His mutation could help him now, if he burned down the forest and melted the snow so that he could see better. That was the problem; he just couldn't see the path before him.
There was a deep grinding sound coming from somewhere ahead, maybe half a mile. He followed, wobbling a little, his knees ready to give out. John was not a quitter.
He was panting now, his mind was swimming, dizzy.
'Almost there, almost there, don't give up!' he commanded his body.
Then, the forest cleared, and he saw them. Magneto chained a man to a slab of cement. Mystique was watching nearby. Magneto turned his back on the man, he and Mystique boarded the helicopter.
John shrunk into his sweatshirt, hand around the lighter in his pocket. He stood before the trees, intending to watch them as they took off, nothing more.
He'd probably never see either one of them again, or at least not for a very long time. He didn't think they were so bad, not really. Probably no worse than he was, they weren't the bad guys.
If Magneto and Mystique were leaving, then it must be over. The Great Crisis had been averted; the X-men had saved the day.
He watched them, and they looked back at him. Then they looked at each other.
The helicopter door opened.
He saw Mystique and Magneto beckon him from the helicopter with their hands and their eyes.
John climbed aboard. He was too weak to resist.
'This is stupid,'
He'd left without a plan of action, he left without weapons, and he'd left without any idea of where he was going.
He was lost. Again.
He'd gotten turned around somehow, the snow had covered his friends' tracks, everything looked the same. Then the pain, the horrible pain!. It coursed through his body, making him lose control.
His body had gotten hot, so hot he wanted to tear off all his clothes and cover himself with snow to cool off, but the snow was melting all around him. The water soaked through his clothes, made tiny streams over the newly exposed rocks and dirt underneath.
He hadn't wanted to die. He had things to live for: he wanted to go places, do things, he wanted to live. Live, breathe, experience.
He was still a child when it came to things like that.
Then, the Cerebro pulse stopped, and John could breathe again. He had a splitting migraine, it throbbed painfully behind his eyes, but he was alive, and he could walk. So he did.
He was still lost, the Cerebro pulse made it even harder to concentrate on where he was supposed to go. He'd been wandering for over an hour, he realized as he checked his watch.
'Where the Hell am I?!' he thought in frustration.
His mutation could help him now, if he burned down the forest and melted the snow so that he could see better. That was the problem; he just couldn't see the path before him.
There was a deep grinding sound coming from somewhere ahead, maybe half a mile. He followed, wobbling a little, his knees ready to give out. John was not a quitter.
He was panting now, his mind was swimming, dizzy.
'Almost there, almost there, don't give up!' he commanded his body.
Then, the forest cleared, and he saw them. Magneto chained a man to a slab of cement. Mystique was watching nearby. Magneto turned his back on the man, he and Mystique boarded the helicopter.
John shrunk into his sweatshirt, hand around the lighter in his pocket. He stood before the trees, intending to watch them as they took off, nothing more.
He'd probably never see either one of them again, or at least not for a very long time. He didn't think they were so bad, not really. Probably no worse than he was, they weren't the bad guys.
If Magneto and Mystique were leaving, then it must be over. The Great Crisis had been averted; the X-men had saved the day.
He watched them, and they looked back at him. Then they looked at each other.
The helicopter door opened.
He saw Mystique and Magneto beckon him from the helicopter with their hands and their eyes.
John climbed aboard. He was too weak to resist.