Moving On

Summary: One of the undoubtedly numerous 'what-happens-after-X3' fics. X3 spoilers and slash, in Bobby's POV
Fandom: X-men
Pairings: Bobby/Rogue, hints of Bobby/John, John/OC
Warnings: Bad language, slash
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Bobby, John, or Rogue. I do, however, own Cypher and the Medusa
Author's Note: I noticed a few mistakes in the prologue, but I can't work out how to fix them. Ah, well, sue me

Chapter 1 – Three Years Later

Five minutes after I'd first noticed, I still couldn't quite believe my eyes.

I'd come to the Medusa – a bar well known for its mutant-friendly policy – expecting nothing more than a quiet drink and maybe a game of pool. But there, leaning against the counter of the crowded and smoky bar, was someone I thought I'd never see again. He was older, paler, a little more lined around the eyes, but goddamnit if it wasn't John. His hair was longer and had been allowed to go back to its natural reddish-brown. He was dressed as scruffily as always, and I could see the outline of the wrist-mounted lighter Magneto had given him through the fabric of his jacket. He looked over his shoulder and said something to the person standing behind him, who laughed; white teeth flashing in the dim light, showing up against his deep tan. I regarded this other person with some suspicion.

He was slim and a little shorter than John, with wavy dark-blonde hair that reached past his shoulders. His eyes were bright green and shone with an unnatural light which made me sure he was also a mutant. All that could be seen of his attire was a floor-length black leather jacket. He said something to John and slipped off, elbowing his way through the crowd. It was then that I made my decision.

"Smirnoff Ice," I said as I reached the counter. John started a little at the familiar voice.
"Hello, Bobby," he murmured, his voice hoarse, "Long time no see."

Close up he looked weary and defeated. At first glance, no impartial observer would believe he was only twenty-one. He looked pale and ill, and his eyes were those of someone twice his age, the eyes of someone who had given up all hope. He gave me a tired smile before returning to what he had being doing previously, which was staring dully into his glass. Not the smirk I knew so well, or the wicked grin I had once seen worryingly often, but a perfectly normal if rather weary smile. I wondered what had happened to change John so.

"Where have you been?"
"Here and there - avoiding the law, mostly. How's Rogue?"
"Very happy with her new boyfriend," I replied a little sourly, "Thinks kinda fizzled out. She's with some thief type from New Orleans now."
"Still human?" I knew immediately what John meant. The cure wasn't always permanent – some mutants' bodies rejected the change. Rogue, however, hadn't been one of them.
"Yeah," I replied. Still rather bitter about the whole affair, I sought for a change of subject; "You heard from Magneto at all?"
"He drops me a line occasionally," John shrugged; "He got his powers back eventually, but he's kinda given up on the whole world-domination thing…" He trailed off, a brief look of pain crossing his face, and was overtaken by a wracking cough. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and I thought I saw smears of blood before said hand returned to its place the pocket of John's jeans.

"Are you…okay?" I asked hesitantly.
"Do I look fucking okay?" John replied sarcastically. I would have retorted, but the person who had been with John earlier chose that moment to reappear. Close to, he looked about nineteen. He leaned on the bar next to John, eyeing me suspiciously.

"This guy bothering you?" he said; an accent that I couldn't quite place colouring his speech. John looked at him speculatively for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not I was bothering him.
"Nah," he said eventually, "He's an old school friend. Bobby, this is Cypher – or Kevin if you prefer." And there was the trademark smirk I knew so well: "My boyfriend."
I kept my expression neutral to hide the inexplicable and rather embarrassing surge of jealously that had just swept through me: "Nice to meet you," I said nonchalantly, holding out my hand. John smirked again, giving me the uncomfortable feeling that he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Likewise," Cypher said, shaking the proffered hand, "Bobby, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I said. I knew it was petty, but I iced Cypher's hand; "Iceman."

Cypher's brilliantly green eyes sparked and flashed, rather unnerving me; "Don't do that," he said in a level voice, flexing his fingers. The faintest suspicion of a flame danced around his hand for a moment, melting the ice, and he flashed a grateful smile at John. "I gotta go take care of some things; I'll be around if you need me, 'kay?" I looked determinedly at my sneakers – noting in passing that the left sole was coming away – as the other two kissed. Cypher disappeared into the crowd.

"How long you two been together, then?" I asked conversationally.
"Bout a year now," John replied. He really had changed – I hadn't thought he had any conception of a relationship that lasted longer than a night. Or a series of nights in one case, but I wouldn't exactly dignify that by the name of a relationship.
"What's his power?"
"Computers – anything with electronics, really. Did you ever hear about the hacker that screwed up the government defence computers 'bout five years back?"
"Yeah, it was all over the news."
"That was him. They've still got no idea who did it, or how." He grinned at me; "Don't tell me you're jealous."
"I've never liked computers."
"You know that's not what I meant."

My attempt at dodging the question exposed for the pathetic charade it was, I elected to ignore it completely. Instead I sighed and gazed morosely into my drink; "You should never have left."
"Like anyone cared."
"Rogue did… And me," I added quietly; "You know, if you came back…"
"No," John cut me off, "Save your mercy for someone who can use it."
"John, what's wrong with you?" I asked, "It's not too late for you to-"
"I'm afraid it is."
"I don't understand," I said, frustrated. John gave a haunting smile:

"I'm dying."