It was not going to be a good day. Bobby had awakened to feel the
same emptiness he'd felt before going to bed. He sat in his bed and stared
at nothing. He wanted nothing more in the world than to have someone to
hold him just then. Bobby knew this to be something he would never have.
Who would want to be with him? He was a mutant. The kind of life the X-
men lead was full of danger, pain, and stress. No one in their right mind
would want to expose themselves to that. That was assuming they could look
past his being a mutant. A lonely depression had set in on him over the
last few weeks, made more painful by the arrival of Raien and Chimera.
Why did they have to make him see what I was? Bobby buried his face in his knees. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. It would have been so much easier to go through life in ignorance. Lying to himself, convincing himself that he could find someone. He didn't want this pain. He didn't want to be a freak twice-over. The ache in his heart circled in around him, and more tears fell. He was going to be alone. Forever.
The darkness of his small room comforted him a little. At least no one could see his weakness. No one could hear him sob. The last few weeks had been piling on top of each other, each day worse than the last. For the last few days, Bobby had woke to his own sobbing.
Years before, a thought had occurred to him. It lingered in his mind often these days. A life of loneliness was all this world would offer him. And that was before he discovered he was gay. Now, even among his friends, he knew it would be worse. He knew Cyclops's view on homosexuality. Everyone did. It was "not natural". Others shared the sentiment. Raien had been oblivious to the looks the others gave him and his lover, but Bobby had seen them. What was the point of any of it. He was sad every day, putting up a mask of happiness only Jean and the Professor could have seen through. It seemed to fool everyone else easily enough.
"This is Xavier. All active X-men, please report to the War Room." said the intercom sharply. Bobby didn't care. He got up slowly and went into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, and stepped inside, the warmth of the water doing nothing for him. It hadn't for months. He sighed, washed his hair and body quickly, then turned the water off. His body felt weak. Tired. Not the kind a night's sleep or a shower could cure.
Bobby suddenly stopped. There'd been a sticker on his mirror that he had removed with a razor. The razor was on the sink.
Minutes passed. Bobby stared at it. The razor gleamed at him. Making promises. An end to pain. To loneliness. To shame.
Slowly Bobby reached for it. Fear shaking his fingertips. Finally he touched it, the cool metal offering itself to him. Another tear fell from Bobby's face, mixing with the water from the shower. He walked slowly from the bathroom, never once taking his eyes off the blade. He set it down on the nightstand. The thought had lurked in his mind for days. It was time. He'd lived through enough pain. He'd been lonely long enough. With a eerie smile, Bobby began to write on a sheet of paper.
To Whomever finds this,
This isn't you're fault. I couldn't live in a world that hates me. The way people look at me, the way I feel inside, I can't keep going. I discovered something about myself. I'm twice a freak. Mutant. Gay. There is no one here for me. I would never have had anyone to love. Jean and Scott, Rogue and Gambit, Raien and Chimera, you all have what I will never get. The pain is too much for me. I'm sorry I was so weak. This isn't your fault. I hope you can forgive me.
Goodbye.
Bobby Drake.
Tears fell from his face again as he made a small pedestal of ice in front of the bed, and laid the note carefully atop it. He picked up the object of his release and moved back toward the shower.
**************
"Where's Bobby?" Cyclops asked
Everyone looked around and no one knew. The Professor had a device attached to his head to block the thoughts of others out so he could heal. Jean suddenly screamed.
"Oh god! No!" She cried, bolting for the door. Hank was closer. He was through the door in the blink of an eye, bounding down the hallways faster than anyone else could move. Even Rogue couldn't catch him. His heart beat a thousand miles a minute. What was going on? Jean doesn't do that. She doesn't scream.
He skidded to a halt in front of Bobby's door. He rang the bell. No answer. It was locked. Hank leapt from wall on the other side of the hallway and crashed through the door. A metallic smell was in the air. His eyes widened. A note on a melting pedestal of ice. His heart stopped.
Hank gasped as he entered the bathroom. Bobby lay in the shower, a crimson trail from his wrists flowing down the drain, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
"Bobby? Bobby!" Hank couldn't believe what was going on. His best friend. Where had he been. Why did he not see this coming. How did this get so bad? A million questions assailed his brain as he scooped his friend up into his arms and ran for the door. Blood matting his fur as he exploded out into the hallway, in time to see others round the corner. He slammed headlong into Rogue, sending her crashing into the wall. She was about to protest, but saw what Beast was carrying.
Everyone else gave him room. He bounded over the Professor in his chair.
"Jean! I need you! Now!" he screamed as he passed her. She turned, following him to the infirmary. Hank could feel Bobby's pulse slowing, his breathing becoming shallow. Panic threatened to take Hank. There were so many things he wanted to tell Bobby. There was so much he wanted to... It didn't matter. I promise he swore If you make it through this, I wont make the same mistake again!
He burst through the door of the infirmary, and lay his friend down on the nearest table. He ran for a tray of various surgical supplies. He had to save Bobby. If he'd been a little less concerned with his own petty problems, he might have seen some warning signs. Now his best friend in the whole world, his only real friend, was bleeding out on his exam table. It would have been easy to panic. To cry and ask the world 'Why?', but Hank knew none of that would help. Something about Bobby had changed dramatically in the last few days. Hank had no idea what.
Suddenly he remembered the way Raien had been when he arrived, and how Chimera's blood had saved him. He still had some. Quickly, he grabbed the bag out of the refrigeration unit and ran an IV while Jean did her best to clean the wounds on Bobby's wrists. Hank shuddered. Bobby had done it the right way. Slashed down his wrist, not across it. A man of lesser skill would surely lose this patient. With Chimera's donation, and Hank's hands doing the healing, he had a chance, albeit slim. His face set in determination, Hank went to work, praying to any deity he could come up with to let him save his friend. Begging them for a second chance.
Why did they have to make him see what I was? Bobby buried his face in his knees. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. It would have been so much easier to go through life in ignorance. Lying to himself, convincing himself that he could find someone. He didn't want this pain. He didn't want to be a freak twice-over. The ache in his heart circled in around him, and more tears fell. He was going to be alone. Forever.
The darkness of his small room comforted him a little. At least no one could see his weakness. No one could hear him sob. The last few weeks had been piling on top of each other, each day worse than the last. For the last few days, Bobby had woke to his own sobbing.
Years before, a thought had occurred to him. It lingered in his mind often these days. A life of loneliness was all this world would offer him. And that was before he discovered he was gay. Now, even among his friends, he knew it would be worse. He knew Cyclops's view on homosexuality. Everyone did. It was "not natural". Others shared the sentiment. Raien had been oblivious to the looks the others gave him and his lover, but Bobby had seen them. What was the point of any of it. He was sad every day, putting up a mask of happiness only Jean and the Professor could have seen through. It seemed to fool everyone else easily enough.
"This is Xavier. All active X-men, please report to the War Room." said the intercom sharply. Bobby didn't care. He got up slowly and went into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, and stepped inside, the warmth of the water doing nothing for him. It hadn't for months. He sighed, washed his hair and body quickly, then turned the water off. His body felt weak. Tired. Not the kind a night's sleep or a shower could cure.
Bobby suddenly stopped. There'd been a sticker on his mirror that he had removed with a razor. The razor was on the sink.
Minutes passed. Bobby stared at it. The razor gleamed at him. Making promises. An end to pain. To loneliness. To shame.
Slowly Bobby reached for it. Fear shaking his fingertips. Finally he touched it, the cool metal offering itself to him. Another tear fell from Bobby's face, mixing with the water from the shower. He walked slowly from the bathroom, never once taking his eyes off the blade. He set it down on the nightstand. The thought had lurked in his mind for days. It was time. He'd lived through enough pain. He'd been lonely long enough. With a eerie smile, Bobby began to write on a sheet of paper.
To Whomever finds this,
This isn't you're fault. I couldn't live in a world that hates me. The way people look at me, the way I feel inside, I can't keep going. I discovered something about myself. I'm twice a freak. Mutant. Gay. There is no one here for me. I would never have had anyone to love. Jean and Scott, Rogue and Gambit, Raien and Chimera, you all have what I will never get. The pain is too much for me. I'm sorry I was so weak. This isn't your fault. I hope you can forgive me.
Goodbye.
Bobby Drake.
Tears fell from his face again as he made a small pedestal of ice in front of the bed, and laid the note carefully atop it. He picked up the object of his release and moved back toward the shower.
**************
"Where's Bobby?" Cyclops asked
Everyone looked around and no one knew. The Professor had a device attached to his head to block the thoughts of others out so he could heal. Jean suddenly screamed.
"Oh god! No!" She cried, bolting for the door. Hank was closer. He was through the door in the blink of an eye, bounding down the hallways faster than anyone else could move. Even Rogue couldn't catch him. His heart beat a thousand miles a minute. What was going on? Jean doesn't do that. She doesn't scream.
He skidded to a halt in front of Bobby's door. He rang the bell. No answer. It was locked. Hank leapt from wall on the other side of the hallway and crashed through the door. A metallic smell was in the air. His eyes widened. A note on a melting pedestal of ice. His heart stopped.
Hank gasped as he entered the bathroom. Bobby lay in the shower, a crimson trail from his wrists flowing down the drain, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
"Bobby? Bobby!" Hank couldn't believe what was going on. His best friend. Where had he been. Why did he not see this coming. How did this get so bad? A million questions assailed his brain as he scooped his friend up into his arms and ran for the door. Blood matting his fur as he exploded out into the hallway, in time to see others round the corner. He slammed headlong into Rogue, sending her crashing into the wall. She was about to protest, but saw what Beast was carrying.
Everyone else gave him room. He bounded over the Professor in his chair.
"Jean! I need you! Now!" he screamed as he passed her. She turned, following him to the infirmary. Hank could feel Bobby's pulse slowing, his breathing becoming shallow. Panic threatened to take Hank. There were so many things he wanted to tell Bobby. There was so much he wanted to... It didn't matter. I promise he swore If you make it through this, I wont make the same mistake again!
He burst through the door of the infirmary, and lay his friend down on the nearest table. He ran for a tray of various surgical supplies. He had to save Bobby. If he'd been a little less concerned with his own petty problems, he might have seen some warning signs. Now his best friend in the whole world, his only real friend, was bleeding out on his exam table. It would have been easy to panic. To cry and ask the world 'Why?', but Hank knew none of that would help. Something about Bobby had changed dramatically in the last few days. Hank had no idea what.
Suddenly he remembered the way Raien had been when he arrived, and how Chimera's blood had saved him. He still had some. Quickly, he grabbed the bag out of the refrigeration unit and ran an IV while Jean did her best to clean the wounds on Bobby's wrists. Hank shuddered. Bobby had done it the right way. Slashed down his wrist, not across it. A man of lesser skill would surely lose this patient. With Chimera's donation, and Hank's hands doing the healing, he had a chance, albeit slim. His face set in determination, Hank went to work, praying to any deity he could come up with to let him save his friend. Begging them for a second chance.