Ashes
By DeepFreeze27
I own nothing
Til everything burns
While everyone screams
Burning their lies, burning my dreams
All of this hate
And all of this pain
Burn it all down, as my anger reigns
Til everything burns
Everything Burns by Ben Moody feat. Anastacia
b.u.r.n.
John stared at the mansion with mild longing. It had been months since he'd last seen it. After joining Magneto, he'd forgotten about the X-men completely; or at least he'd tried to. At night, he had a hard time closing his eyes without memories of his former friends playing behind his eyelids like pictures on a slideshow. Then he'd received the letter. Magneto had delivered it to him, saying that he knew John was mature enough not to be swayed from his believes.
"Okay," John had replied dumbly, wondering what the old man was talking about. Then, as Magneto walked out of the room, John had looked down at the envelope, and dropped it to the floor. It had stayed there for almost a week before it was read. Then, in response to it, John had asked for a few days off. Magneto hadn't said anything, only stared at the younger man for a long time. Then he'd nodded and walked away, leaving the fire manipulator to himself.
Four hours later he'd crept past the security of the mansion, having memorized them in order to sneak out at night when he still lived there. 'Funny how things change,' he'd mused, not bothering to cover the tracks he made in the snow.
Now, as he stood, staring at the silent building, he felt cold. And it wasn't the wind or the snow, or even the icy water that had seeped into his shoes. He shivered and flicked his lighter open, drawing the flame from it before putting it back in his pocket. The fire didn't help. With bitterness, the teen let the fire die out, then tugged his light jacket closer to his lithe frame.
"I hate the cold," he muttered, venturing further into the yard. The fountain had frozen over. John smirked, remembering the first time he'd met Bobby.
The blonde boy stepped out of the taxi with a hopeful look in his ice blue eyes. Immediately fourteen-year-old John, who sat by the fountain, dismissed him as a loser. 'Look at those clothes,' he thought snidely, watching as Xavier shook hands with the new kid.
'Nice shoes,' was all John said as the two passed him on their way into the mansion.
That was enough to get the new kid's attention. "Nice face," the blonde replied easily, glaring slightly at the brown haired boy.
"What was that, Tinkerbell?" John spat, standing.
"Not too quick, are you?" the blonde asked, turning back to face the other boy, an amused smirk on his lips.
John hated many things, but being called stupid was pretty high on the list. He didn't even say anything else. He snapped his light open and flicked the flame into his hand.
In response, the blonde took one step forward and pushed John in the chest. The fire manipulator gave a surprised shout and fell back into the fountain. Stuttering with rage, he flew out of the water and at the chuckling blonde.
"John!" the Professor's sharp command brought the brown haired boy to a sudden halt. He fell silent as the old man approached the two boys. "Try not to make a habit of attacking the new students."
The two boys glared at each other for a few more moments, then the blonde smiled. "I'm Bobby," he said," Nice to meet you, Fire Boy."
Bobby turned and followed the Professor into the mansion, leaving John to stare after him in wonder. After a few moments of simply gawking at the door the blonde had passed through, John sat back down on the ledge of the fountain and laughed a short laugh.
"Damn fairy," John mumbled, unconsciously smiling at the memory. Despite his wimpy exterior, Bobby had stood against the fire manipulator's anger and bad attitude, even earning his friendship. 'Then again,' John mused. 'Everyone likes Bobby.' He frowned and turned to walk around the mansion. The sun was setting, so the kids were probably eating dinner and the dinning room was on the opposite side of the mansion.
He counted five windows on the east side of the building, then smiled a sad smile when he got to the fifth. Sticking his hand into his pocket, he pulled out the dirty, wrinkled letter he'd received over a week ago. Rereading it, he smiled again, tracing his finger over the signature. The memory that came to mind made his chest tighten with a feeling he had yet to decipher.
He was late for class again, and running down the hallat top speed. He didn't mind being late. He hated class. But he didn't want to tempt Storm to zap him with a lightning bolt as she'd threatened to. 'But I could take 'er,' he assured himself, smirking.
He didn't see the brunette coming down the stairs, her eyes hooked on the chandelier above her. With a painful 'smack' they collided. He let out a string of curses, rubbing his forehead. Then he looked down at the girl in front of him. She had silky brown hair, large doe eyes, and pale skin. She stared at him with a mixture of horror and surprise on her face as she rubbed her left thigh.
"Sorry," she mumbled with a slight southern accent. His mouth flopped open and for a moment he forgot to speak.
"Uh... yea," he said finally," Don't worry about it. It was my fault."
He stood up, trying to regain the little dignity he could, and offered her his hand. She hesitated, then smiled and let him pull her to her feet.
"I'm Rogue," she told him, still clasping his hand in hers.
"John," he answered, allowing a small smile to grace his lips.
"Nice to meet you," she said, dropping his hand and turning to walk away. As she stepped forward with her left foot, however, she hissed in pain and quickly shifted her weight to her right side.
"You okay?" John asked.
"Oh yea," she answered with a small smile," I'll be fine. Thanks though."
"You sure?" he persisted," I could take you to the clinic..."
"Naw," Rogue said, shaking her head," You're late for class, right? Go on. I'm fine."
"Okay..." he mumbled turning to walk away," See ya."
"See ya, John," she replied with a gentle, almost shy smile and a timid wave," And thanks."
Climbing the tree that stood outside Rogue's window, as he had several times before, he stepped onto the balcony of a darkened room. Quietly, he waited. He didn't know what he'd do if someone walked into the room; whether he'd tap on the window and expose himself, or just leave.
His heart was doing a strange little dance in his rib cage. With the hand not clutching the letter, he rubbed his chest, willing himself to calm down. Then the lights flicked on, and he froze. He stopped moving, stopped thinking, stopped breathing. He just stood there like a deer caught in headlights, staring through the window at the figure that walked into the room.
"Come on, Rogue!" he heard Bobby's voice call from hallway.
"Just a sec," the beautiful brunette yelled back, grabbing a blanket from her bed. She didn't even see him. He was invisible to her, as always.
As the lights flicked off and the door closed, John clenched his hands into fists. He'd come all this way to see her, and she hadn't even noticed him. She'd been too caught up with Bobby. Just like she'd been the last time he'd seen her. He wasn't worth it; wasn't good enough.
He relaxed his hands, staring into the darkened room with betrayal in his eyes. The letter fell onto the balcony, mostly ashes now; like everything else in his life. With a final glare, he jumped over the balcony railing and hit the ground running. The longing to see his friends, to see her, was gone. He had no business there.
b.u.r.n.
The next morning, Rogue woke up earlier than usually. Careful not to wake her roommates, she crept onto the balcony to see if the sun had risen yet. It had. With a sigh of disappointment, she turned to go back into the room. Then she saw it. A pile of ashes sat near the edge of the balcony, out of place on the marble around it.
She crouched over it, poking at the pile to figure out what is was. There were several pieces of paper still in tact, but they were all blank; all but one. She picked up the small piece of charred paper slowly, not believing what she saw. There were only three words on it, but they were enough. It said," Love Always, Rogue" in her own handwriting.
Her head snapped up, scanning the forest in front of her. "John?" she whispered, letting the paper slip through her fingers.
b.u.r.n.