Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. Whilst I feel that this totally bites, I think Wolverine, Rouge, Pyro, Jean, Cyclops, etc., are in great hands with Marvel and whoever else owns them.
Notes: Sorry for the long wait! Leaving your awaited chapter on a computer that's 1000 + miles away is not advisable. At least it's out though, right?
And thank all of you so much for your reviews. I was shocked by how many I got. I'm glad you like the story.
Warnings: Extreme AU, language, violence, sex, and pretty much everything else an 'M' rating entails. Heh. Enjoy.
Chapter Three
His name was John.
He reminded her strongly of Logan, from the way his mind felt to the wary, guarded stance he greeted her with. His eyes were cold – that of an unwilling, forced killer. Rogue didn't need his screaming, alarmed thoughts to tell her that her presence was not exactly something he wanted.
His similarities to Logan concerned her. Could he, too, possibly be the victim of mutant experimentations? And if so, what horrors had been inflicted on him? What pains and sufferings could he have gone through to give him the eyes of a war veteran who had seen too much?
However, the second Logan walked up behind John, however, was the second Rogue's mind overwhelmed the personality of Charles Xavier. She no longer held concern for the strange boy in front of her, but merely the tall man behind him.
She watched as Logan gently pulled the younger mutant behind him, locking gazes with her. His mind was far too complex for her to get a reading off of. She did not feel the rush of relief at his return that she expected she would when he offered her a slightly sheepish smirk Instead, she stared at him, a mixture of hurt and anger welling up inside of her as she put two and two together.
Logan had brought back another "lost" mutant. One who, she assumed, had been in a similar situation as herself. Feelings of being replaced overtook her in abundance.
"Rogue," began Logan easily, obviously sensing her apprehension. "It's been a while." She said nothing, eyes narrowing slightly as she watched John shuffle slightly on his feet, apparently just as unnerved as she was. Logan cleared his throat and continued. "This is --."
"John," interrupted Rogue, looking away from the new arrival as he looked up in surprise. "I know."
The proud, collected Wolverine gave her a baffled look. He stepped forward, reaching out a hand as though to grasp her arm. She jerked back instinctively, her gaze now a full-out glare, and Logan moved back. He opened his mouth, obviously intending to question her strange behavior and apparent knowledge, when another voice called out.
"Welcome back, Logan." All three turned to look up at the source, though Rogue quickly looked away at the sight of her crippled professor. The strong telepath continued talking, though well aware of his student's predicament. "Please, come up to my office, and bring young John with you." He turned his gaze then to the multi-colored hair mutant. "Rogue, please meet with Jean and I after dinner. I think we need to talk."
She gave him no acknowledgement that she had heard his words. Slowly, as though unsure as to what they had interrupted, both Logan and his new companion walked through the double doors, John keeping close to the taller man's side. Her glare turned scathing as John through a murderous one in her direction, though she quickly wiped it clean when Logan turned his head. His "We will talk about this later" look only had her head pounding worse.
When all three men were gone, Rogue fell back against the wood-on-stone wall, eyes closed, the oncoming tears of frustration prickling painfully at her lids in desperation to escape. Her anger was so great that she was sure, with the help of the professor's mutation, she could freeze everyone in the school and allow herself some peace and quiet for the sake of sanity. The temptation was incredibly great.
She just didn't know how to do it.
0o0
John was on edge.
The soft growling Logan was emitting, as well as the constant aggravated glances he got from the older man, let him know that his anxiety was quite clear.
Yet John couldn't care enough to tone his apprehensive habits down.
The girl that had so crudely "greeted" him at the doorway of the school of thrown John completely on his guard. The fact that both she, and now the crippled bald man who was leading them down a Victorian-styled hallway, had known his name, had him instantly suspicious. John began cursing himself. Logan had claimed he himself was a victim of Mutant Experimentation. Was it possible that his supposed savior was actually a successful experiment under Stryker's control? Was this whole scenario some elaborate setup devised to get John back in his tank? Back into William Stryker's hands?
His thoughts were interrupted was the elderly man spoke up. John held back a sneer of jealousy at the calmness in his voice.
"Here we are," he announced as they came to a halt in front of a thick, rose-oak door. He opened it with little effort, revealing a warm , inviting, and equally elegant office.
Despite John's previous paranoia, he moved closer to Logan as they entered, opting to stick with his first gut instincts. The door closed lightly behind them. He knew he did not need the protection – his powers were more than enough to bring the entire structure down. But he was unaware of what powers this new mutant possessed, and as it appeared that Logan was a friend of his, staying close to him seemed to be the safest bet. For all involved.
The man maneuvered his wheelchair so that it was located neatly behind the large oak desk situated in front of a tall glass window. For a moment, he just stared at the two of them, making himself appear oblivious to the unease he was causing them. John broke the gaze after only just a moment, instead focusing on the window. Even though Logan had promised to take care of him, organizing a few escape scenarios could prove to be beneficial, if only unnecessary in the long run. He was pretty sure that he could survive the fall. All he would have to do was form a soft cushion of fire on the ground beneath him, and voila! No harm done. The only problem would be crashing through the apparently thick glass without injuring himself, or any others who would be unfortunate enough to be below him.
'Hello, John,' the man finally said, once again pulling John's attention away from his thoughts and to him. 'Welcome to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters – mutants. I'm Charles Xavier.'
It only took John a few seconds to realize that Xavier had not spoken the introduction aloud. He took an unconscious step backwards, caught by unimaginative surprise, and the man had the grace to look apologetic.
"I apologize, John," Xavier responded soothingly, this time making his words verbal to all ears. "I'm afraid that's a terribly bad habit of mine. I hadn't meant to frighten you."
John, not finding any comfort in the words, turned an inquisitive look toward Logan, only too see that he, too, was frowning at Xavier.
"Chuck," he growled in warning, tone making it quite clear that mind games would not be tolerated. The telepath simply offered him a slight smile.
"I apologized, Logan." He did not wait for a response before turning his eyes back to John, smile somewhat softer. Again, the pyrotic mutant could not keep the contact, and looked down. "As I said, John, welcome to my school for mutants. I understand that you have had quite a . . . rough . . . time before Logan found you."
"You could say that," John replied, still not looking up, but making his tone slightly defensive. Xavier took the hint, but continued regardless.
"Genetic experimentations on mutants is never something to be taken lightly, John," the elderly mutant informed him, voice gentle. John stiffened, and his eyes narrowed, finally dragging back up to rest on Xavier. "What those people did to you is not something that can be so easily forgiven."
"If at all," Logan muttered under his breath. Xavier ignored him.
"I know that you do not trust me, or anyone, for that matter. And I do not blame you for it. Bu t you were brought you here because you need help, and I have every intention of seeing that you get it." John eyed him, as did Logan, but before either could say a word, there was a slight knock on the door. John's heart began to pound fiercely with anxiety as the professor called out in a cheerful voice. "Come in, Jean."
He inched closer to Logan, body poised in preparation of escape as the oak door gently opened. The sight of a tall, graceful woman caught him off guard. She was unlike anyone he had ever seen before. She walked with an air of confidence, short burgundy-colored hair swaying slightly as she moved toward the wheelchair-bound Xavier. She smiled broadly as she passed him, one of warm assurance, but he did not return the expression. There was something off about her, something he couldn't quite place. He wondered if Logan, with his heightened senses, could feel it too.
"John, this is Dr. Jean Grey," Xavier introduced, withdrawing John from his unpleasant feeling. "She is the doctor for every person in this school, and I have asked her to examine you --."
"I'm fine," John interrupted in protest, tone painfully firm and harsh. Though Logan had informed him that he would be receiving medical attention, now that he was actually faced with it, he was quite certain he didn't want it. He felt his savior stir beside him.
"You'll be fine, kid," reassured Logan softly. Though his voice was still as gruff as ever, there was an undertone of understanding there. He knew how difficult being in a lab would be.
"John?" This time it was Jean calling him. Slowly, he raised his eyes to greet hers, and offered a deep scowl at her inquisitive look. She didn't appear to be effected by it, instead allowing a slight smirk to cross her lips. "I promise it will be nothing more than a few tes – a routine check up." Her correction did not slip past him.
For a minute, he just stood there. The thought of returning to lab – any lab – was as unpleasant and painful as the thought of seeing William Stryker again. Yet, Logan seemed to think that going with this Jean Grey was safe. Then again, it was possible he hadn't felt the same thing that John had.
"Can he come with me?" He asked suddenly, jerking his head in Logan's direction pointedly. The professor smiled.
"I will send him along shortly. I must speak with him first." At John's hesitation, Xavier quickly added. "It will only be a few minutes, John. I promise."
"Go on, kid," Logan urged beside him. Then, so that only John could hear him, he added, "You'll love it when she takes off your shirt."
John was not given a chance to respond as Jean, who was glaring heatedly at his companion, gently led him from the room.
As the door closed behind him, he felt the painful ache of being cut off from his only salvation.
0o0
He watched John and Jean as they left, gaze lingering on the back of his new charge. The uneasy stiffness of the fire mutant's posture was not lost on him, and he did feel a spark of guilt for urging the young man to continue on without him. Though he knew that Jean provided no danger to him, nor did any other mutant in the school, he knew that John was still to green to go off with someone he didn't know.
Logan didn't like feeling guilt.
"Won't you sit?" Xavier urged, drawing him back to the present situation. The wolverine inside of him scoffed at such a trivial question, whilst outwardly, Logan just snorted.
"I'll stand, Chuck, thanks." The professor simply nodded in response.
He rolled his silver chair toward the large window behind him, and for a moment, merely admired the scenery. Though patience was a far cry off of being one of Logan's virtues, he knew better than to speak, despite that he had a few other things he would rather be doing.
"I must admit," Xavier finally began, not turning around. "When I sent you off to Alkali Lake, I did not expect you to come across a mutant such a John."
"Surprised me, too," the brash man admitted, moving and leaning comfortably against the wall. For a moment, he studied the older man. "Do you know what they did to him?"
"Only to an extent," the professor replied. "I know he's been in the lab since he was five years old, and that he holds much fear and rage toward the people who held him. But as to what was done to him exactly, I have not the vaguest idea. We will have to wait for Jean's examination results." Logan nodded, not having expected much else.
"Will he be allowed to stay here?" He inquired curiously, easily keeping the concern out of his voice. He had promised John that this school would serve as satisfactory sanctuary for him. Should that prove to be wrong, he had made a promise to get both John and Marie out of there.
And he was done with breaking his promises.
"Should he wish to, then, yes, he will be allowed to stay. However, that is all up to him." The professor fell silent again, and Logan was suddenly struck with a bit of realization.
"You didn't want to talk to me about John, did you?" He couldn't see the professor's saddened smile, but already knew the answer.
"Actually, my thoughts were on a different charge of yours," Xavier agreed, turning the chair about to face him.
"Rogue." There was no need for the name to be a question.
"As you might know, I have been working with Rogue to help her learn to control her power." Again, Logan snorted, though the frown on his face showed that he was angry.
"I noticed she was still wearing her gloves," he growled, voice accusing. Xavier sighed.
"We were making some progress, in the beginning," he informed sadly. "I had her working with Angela DuBross, whose power would be nothing Rogue couldn't handle. After a while, however, her power . . . began to manifest."
Logan looked up.
"It became protective. If it felt like Rogue was threatened, it attacked whoever was the threat. Angela was in the lab for two weeks after just two seconds of skin-to-skin contact with Rogue. I never told her, assuming it had to do with the amount of contact they had been having. However, the other day, I felt her power pushing me."
"Why do I have a feeling that this is going to get worse?" Xavier smiled at him grimly.
"This morning, Jean and I decided to see exactly how far Rogue's power had grown. She was already on edge when we brought her in, no doubt from the continuous failed sessions. When we attached the reader to her, she became worse, as did her power. When I touched, I was absorbed within that very second, and the box was all but obliterated."
"So what you're trying to say," Logan began after a moment, letting the words sink in. "Is that instead of helping her control the power, you made the whole damn thing worse."
"Logan," Xavier began, slightly defensive. "We didn't know it would be that bad--."
"Damn it, Chuck!" Logan roared, shocking the older man into silence. "She's not some fucking lab rat that you can experiment on! This is hard enough for her as it is! If you didn't know it was going to work, you shouldn't have done anything at all!" He was seething now, fatherly-protectiveness embracing him for the young girl he had once watched die. What was going on with her and the professor was no better than what had happened to John in the fucking genetics lab.
"Logan," Xavier started again, less angered this time. He waited until he had the furious man's attention before continuing. "Rogue's power is changing, and rapidly. Whether or not it will be in benefit of her, I do not know. But it would have happened whether we had used the box or not."
That caught Logan's full attention.
"Changing? You mean, she could eventually be able to … touch people?" The professor sighed.
"Honestly, I don't know. But it will be a very long, and very painful road. You will need to be there for her and John both. And you're not exactly the parenting type."
"I'll handle it," Logan growled, pulling out a cigar and lighting it, ignoring the look Xavier gave him. He would handle it.
He was going to have to.
0o0
Despite the assurance that had radiated in waves off of his savior, John followed the red-haired woman with the cautiousness of an abused puppy. Everything Logan had told him about the school – how safe it was, and how helpful everyone would be – was now of complete irrelevance. Each and every sound, no matter how small or common, had him either jumping or whirling around suspiciously. Thus far, Jean had said nothing of his erratic behavior as she led him down countless brightly lit corridors, but he was not stupid enough to think that she found it normal.
He didn't care enough to offer her any form of explanation.
They took a lot of hallways that looked like they hadn't been used in years – Jean probably wanted to keep him away from the other children. Whether it was done out of concern for them, or for him, he didn't know. And he still didn't care enough to ask.
When they entered the hallway that led to the medical lab, he instantly knew what it was. The white walls and floor, the strong, though distant smell of antiseptic. For a minute, he locked up, and Jean stopped, still not saying a word, just waiting for him to relax and continue. He felt a very soothing emotion run over him, and turned to look accusingly at the red-haired woman.
"Telepath, kind of," she offered, and then gave him a sympathetic smile. "Nothing's going to hurt you here, John."
"I've heard that before," he snapped back hollowly. However, the promise of Logan's eventual arrival had him moving again, following Jean toward the lab. Each step they took brought the poisonous smell of the antiseptic closer, and it was all he could do not to panic and run for it.
"We're here," Jean announced softly, stopping in front of a large, thick metal door. John eyed it warily as she pressed a button on the wall, taking a cautious step backward as it flew open with a volatile hiss. The telekinetic mutant entered, not calling after him, allowing him to choose for himself whether or not to enter.
Once again, despite his better judgment, John trailed after her, examining his new surroundings as he did.
This lab was different from the one he had lived in. There was no tank in sight, and the room was brightly lit so that he could see everything. The thousands of computer boards he had grown accustomed to had not made a home here. Instead, there were a few scattered screens, each blank, but ready to work. There were five beds, spaced out so that there was room for more if need be. The cool gray interior was a far cry from the black he knew. It was warm and inviting without actually looking it, and, against his will, John's body began relaxing.
"You can have a seat on that bed right there," Jean informed, waving toward the middle bed as she moved toward a counter. John obliged, slightly surprised at the comfort the stiff contraption offered. Drawing himself away from the luxuries he had never before experienced, he turned a predatory gaze to the other mutant. He watched carefully as she opened a drawer, but was unable to see anything that she pulled out.
"You're going to have to remove your shirt," she called, not turning around. John felt obligated enough to give the older woman a scowl, but complied with her wishes. With the clumsiness of a two year old, he managed to do away with the offending garment, though he was quite sure it had done more harm to him than he to it. The coolness of the lab instantly assaulted his body, and though he had spent three days in the snow, clothed much the same, he could not help but shiver.
"Alright, John." Jean turned around, holding a few instruments in her hands that he still could not make out. Sensing his apprehension, she offered him a small smile as she set them down delicately on a tray beside him. Then she held up a stethoscope questioningly. "Do you know what this is?"
He had never seen such a thing before in his life, and told her so. She must have found this odd, for a small, barely noticeable frown formed on her face. However, she didn't say anything of it.
"It's a stethoscope. I'm going to put it to your chest so that I can hear your heartbeat. Like this." She set the cool metal lightly upon his pale skin, and inserted the other part into her ears. John watched curiously as an intense look formed on her face, and then quickly disappeared. "Well, that sounds healthy," she said lightly, smiling at him. Again, he did not return the gesture. With a sigh, Jean reached over, picking up something that was all too familiar to the pyrotic mutant.
"Don't," he warned instantly, jumping off the bed, blue eyes focused on the needle. The movement caught the telekinetic by surprise, and she whirled around to face him, the needle clutched safely in her hand.
"John," she said gently. "I need to take a blood sample." John did not even grace her statement with a reply, merely staring at the dangerous object with a look of the utmost fear he could muster up. Once again, he felt another wave of calm roll over him, and moved his eyes to look at Jean.
"I promise it won't hurt. I'm not going to put anything in you, alright?" She soothed, taking a step forward. John did not step back. "I just need to see what they did to you, and figure out if I can reverse it." John scoffed lightly at her words, so soft that Jean could not hear it, and thus, continued. "Now, why don't you come and sit back down?"
"You won't be able to do anything about it," he warned, moving back toward the bed. "Not without killing me, anyway."
"Why don't you let me decide that. Here," she motioned toward the handle bar on the side of the bed. "Hold onto that while I do this. That way you won't hit me or anything." Jean's last words were met as a joke, but John took them seriously, and extended his right hand to grab the metal. Knowing how the process worked, he forced the muscles in his left arm to relax, though he winced as the sharp object slid through his skin and punctured a vein. Unbeknownst to either of them, the metal beneath John's hand began to glow a dark orange and disintegrate whilst Jean carefully took the sample.
John's eyes slowly opened as he felt the slim object pull out of him, and a small, sad smirk formed on his handsome face at the gasp that emitted from Jean's mouth. Slowly, he turned to examine the tube that was supposed to contain his blood.
"I told you," he stated simply, eyeing the red and purple liquid before turning to look at the handle of the bed. Still shocked, Jean followed his gaze. Her eyes widened even more at the sight that greeted her, and on a whim, she sent a mental cry to Charles.
0o0
He awoke with the same empty feeling that had been growing inside of him since the night he had arrived nearly a year ago.
He wasn't a man who slept in late by habit. Or, at least, he hadn't been. Now, however, he had come to realize that it did help his boring, routine days pass by faster. Not to mention that it kept his plaguing situations, both new and old, from causing him much grief.
Eric Lehnsherr was mutant man who had once been a victim in the Holocaust. Viciously pulled away from his parents by the tyrannical, merciless Nazis, he had been twelve and alone in the world. Until he realized his mutation. For three years after that, metal had been his only friend. He did not view it as something that he had control over – something that was a tool at his will. Instead, he saw it as a lifelong friend, one that would always be there for him. One that would help him, comfort him, and protect him. It quickly became a part of him.
Being trapped in a plastic prison had ripped that away, and was killing him.
Yet, oddly enough, this was not his main problem. Not any longer.
Eric and Charles Xavier had been friends for quite a long time. It was Eric who had found Charles, who had showed him that they were not as alone as the telepath had once thought. Together, they began to work to improve the rights of mutants everywhere. It had been his urging that had led Charles to start his school, knowing how much his friend loved to teach. They had sought out students together, including Charles' current protégés, Jean Grey and Scott Summers. They had grown to be as close as brothers, Charles the sensible one, and Eric the reckless, protective older one.
That had been how their downfall had occurred.
Despite Eric's constant, concerned warnings, Charles had felt it a rather brilliant idea to inform one of his other friends of his mutation. That friend happened to be the elder brother of Charles' deceased fiancée. The man had always blamed her death on mutants, for reasons unknown to Eric, and reasons Charles would not share. The revelation was to take place at an Italian restaurant just a block away. Pushing aside his protective feelings, Eric allowed him to go.
That night, Charles had lost the use of his legs, and Jean became aware of her medical talent.
Charles had, in the end, forgiven his attacker. Eric could not. And thus came the spilt. Eric became Magneto, metal-controlling mutant who was intent on raging a war between mutants and humans. Charles stayed as he was – peace-intending – and did everything he could to stop Magento's plans.
And somehow, through all of this, they remained good friends. They could start the morning fighting each other with near-fatal blows of power, and spend the afternoon in the park playing chess. Though they fought against one another, never had betrayal interrupted and poisoned their friendship.
Until now.
The most important thing to Charles Xavier was his school and his students in it. Each and every mutant child that entered there, sad, confused, and afraid, became Charles' own child. His children. His family.
And, without wanting to, Eric was taking that away from him with monstrous leaps.
Absently, the silver-haired man reached a wrinkled hand to rub the back of his neck. As he it away, his fingers grazed over the throbbing mark that lay in the center. Gently, with soothing movements, he traced over the circular pattern, distaste forming on his face.
William Stryker was visiting him within hours. The few days he had gone without seeing the man had been Heaven, but yesterday, Mitchell Laurio had, in the mot unpleasant of ways, informed him that today would be the day. Today at 12:00 sharp.
In just a few hours, Eric's mind would, once again, not be his.
0o0
"Methane."
They sat in there, the five of them. Logan, John, Scott, Jean, Xavier. Five mutants, yet only one who really mattered.
Jean's voice was like steel grating on Logan's nerves as he examined the charts sprawled out on the wall in front of them. From beside him, he could feel John fidget, but his usual reprimand for such annoying actions could not seem to find a way out of his mouth.
This was barbaric in the worst possible way. He couldn't imagine the pain John's body had gone through to adapt to the poisonous mixture. If the kid didn't kill the bastard who had done this to him, then Logan most certainly would. A nice, long claw right through the throat. Yeah, that would be nice. Not to mention all of the torture that would occur first.
"Where?" Xavier's voice cut into his thoughts. Logan looked up at Jean's sigh.
"Everywhere. It's been injected into his bones, mixed in with marrow. It goes through his veins, into his heart, and back again; recycling. He'll never run out of it."
"Some of the scientists called me the "walking TNT stick"," John informed helpfully, trying to lighten the mood. Logan growled softly at the cruel nickname, and the young mutant's smile faltered. He turned sorrowful puppy eyes toward Jean. "I told you, you can't help me," he finished sadly.
It was pitiful and heart-wrenching, the sight that John made. Once, he had been a mutant with such promise and potential. He could have been one of the lucky ones – a mutant that could walk among humans without them being any the wiser. However, with this added chemical permanently mixed into his blood, he was as dangerous to society as Rogue. The slightest fearful thing to him, or the second his anger spiked, could produce an explosion that could destroy an entire city. Chances were high that John would forever be looked at with fear, once his situation was made public.
And from the looks of it, the young man knew it.
Xavier tore his ancient eyes away from John's hopeless figure, meeting Jean's instead. He could sense that she was holding something back, something she obviously did not want John to know. He frowned for a moment, trying to determine what it was without having her speak the words aloud. However, he eventually turned back to Logan and John, the former of who had quite a murderous look upon his face.
"Logan," he called softly, attempting to draw his younger friend away from his dreams of torture and death. "Why don't you take John down to the kitchen for some lunch. If my sense of time is correct, then the students are outside enjoying theirs. You should come across very few obstacles."
Logan glared at him, recognizing a dismissal when he heard one. He was no fool. He knew that if he left now, there would something said of vital importance, that he would no doubt want to know. However, Xavier gave a pointed glance to John, signifying that it was in his best interest if the two departed. Logan's stubbornness instantly disappeared, and he let out a resigned sigh.
"C'mon, kid," he urged the boy beside him. "Let's go get some grub. If we're quick, we can sneak into Scooter's room and raid his liquor cabinet." John tried to offer an amused smile at this and Scott, catching on to Logan's ploy, called out to him as they left the room.
"Stay out of my room, Logan!" He growled loudly. All that he received in response was a perfect view of Logan's middle finger right before the door closed.
The second he was positive they were alone, Xavier turned back to Jean.
"What is it?" He inquired in his normal fatherly tone. Jean groaned, rubbing her head and sitting down on one of the beds. Scott was quick to her side, but Xavier waited patiently for his answer.
"Obviously, whomever was in charge of John's experimentation was planning on making him the ultimate tool. For what, I have no clue. But with his fire-controlling powers, there's enough methane inside for him to run endlessly. They were probably planning long periods of training for him, to help him learn to control it."
"They never got the chance," Scott finished for her, and Jean nodded in agreement, and raised her eyes to look at the professor.
"John is incredibly volatile, which is far from surprising, considering the circumstances. While I don't think he'll pose more threat here than any other student, should he ever get caught up in what's going on outside of here, the result would be catastrophic."
The two men stared at her intently, and Jean finally finished.
"Should he experience another situation in the same magnitude as the one that caused his power to manifest in the first place, he could ignite the methane in his blood. He would destroy himself and everyone else within a hundred mile radius."
Xavier closed his eyes, shoulder slumping sadly.
0o0
John wasn't exactly sure that he liked kitchens.
He was aware that Logan was harboring a hidden amusement at his confusion when it came to "appliances". Not a harsh amusement, he knew. It was more like the humor he had known as a child, when people would be amused at his wonderment of a television.
Once he found out what was in the refrigerator, however, John decided that that was a machine worth a bit of his affection.
"What's this?" He called to Logan inquisitively, cautiously prodding a large metal machine with four circles on top. He could sense warmth within its confines, something similar to what was trapped within him, and he was intrigued. He heard his companion snort from behind him, but ignored it in favor of getting an answer.
"It's an oven," the metal mutant finally responded, and John could hear the grin in his voice. "Well, the bottom part is anyway. The top is called a stove."
"What's it do?" He traced the rims of the circles in childlike awe, absorbed in what he didn't understand.
"Cooks food," said Logan in a nonchalant voice. And then, he added in a soft undertone, "by catching it on fire." John's face lit up, and he mentally added 'stove-oven' onto his affection list, just below refrigerator.
"Cool."
Logan snorted again.
He moved to the table where Logan had his legs propped up, taking the offered sandwich, eyeing it warily before taking a bite. He relished in the delicious taste of turkey, mayonnaise, pepper, and Swiss cheese, painfully aware that this thing, which many took for granted, was foreign to him.
The whole time, Logan watched him with a fond eye. He knew better than to speak with the fire maniac about the previous events, even though he had plenty of questions that he wanted answered. Like the name of the little fucker who had imprisoned him, what they looked like, last known residence, and how quickly he thought they would die of torture.
But he kept his mouth shut about, venturing onto a less deadly, but still dangerous subject instead.
"So, you staying around, kid?" John looked up at this, a bit of mayo on the right corner of his mouth. He licked it away slowly, eyes distant as he contemplated Logan's question.
"Are you?" He threw back, not challenging, but curious.
"Yeah," Logan responded, sparing a glance out of the kitchen window. "I have a friend here who could use my help right now. Besides, I'm not too keen on traveling all the way back to Alkali Lake anytime soon. Took me long enough to convince myself to go there the first time." They fell silent again – a comfortable silence. Companionable. And then John voiced his concern.
"I've never socialized with anyone before, let alone … people my age. What if I mess up and piss people off?" Logan shook his head, a grin cracking on his face.
"Then you show 'em you're the wrong guy to piss around with," he informed gruffly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And if that doesn't work, I have been aching for a fight for months."
John returned his grin, and then shrugged.
"I'll stay as long as you do."
0o0
In a small room, barely larger than a doctor's office, the blue-skinned Kurt Wagner was strapped, bare-chested, to an uncomfortable metal table. His white eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and horror, and his breathing so rapid that it was a surprise to everyone that he hadn't started hyperventilating.
Not that they would have helped him if he had. At least not out of concern, anyways.
There were fresh, pained tears flowing freely down the sides of his face, in a never-ending river of his heartache. The prayer of God was endless upon his lips, interrupted only by passionate cries for his beloved rosary, which was resting on a tray just within his sight.
No one complied. No one cared to end his pain. No one bothered to think that, perhaps, this mutant held the same emotions that they did.
And William Stryker, newly released patient from his hospital, watched the entire ordeal with a sickening smile on his face.
Everything was going as planned.
0o0
Classes were over for the day. Not that it mattered to her, she hadn't gone. Even though she had been excused, she still felt like she was rebelling against the rules by not going, since she hadn't seen the professor since that morning.
The last of Xavier's powers had finally left her, and Rogue had managed to push aside his ethics-obsessed personality in favor of her own morbid mind. It was refreshing to be able to enjoy hearing only the thoughts of the people she had absorbed, instead of everyone else around.
But their loss did nothing to soothe her troubles.
She had not seen Logan since he had showed up this morning. Though, whether or not that was his fault was in debate. She had hidden in Storm's well-kept garden all day, bathed in the concealing shade of the large Weeping Willow tree in its center. It was not some place anyone would think to look for her. Not even Bobby, who claimed to know her so well. But, then again, Logan was equipped with heightened senses. If he had wanted to speak with her – to catch up and see how she was doing – it wouldn't really be that difficult for him to find her.
Those were the opposing arguments, and since Rogue refused to let Xavier's mind out, it was not a debate that would be settled anytime soon. Even though the Logan inside of her head continuously made it clear that it was her fault.
"There you are!" Rogue jumped slightly at the familiar relieved voice, quickly standing to great the white-haired weather goddess that was quickly approaching. "We've been looking everywhere, Rogue. Bobby's going frantic."
"Ah'm sorry," Rogue whispered, stressed. Storm's words stopped on her lips at the sight of the distressed girl, and she moved forward, going into what Rogue liked to refer to as "mother mode".
"It's alright, honey," the older woman soothed. When Rogue didn't respond, Storm's eyes turned to examine her garden, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I'm come here a lot to think, too. It's quiet, and no one ever bothers to come up here."
"I'm sorry I invaded your privacy," Rogue stated humbly, but Storm just shook her head, smile still in place.
"Don't worry about it," she chastised. "Use it whenever you want. I hardly get time to come up here anymore, so it's doubtful we'll ever interrupt each other." She drew off, and studied her student. "I thought you'd be in a good mood today, now that Logan's back and everything." She was surprised when Rogue snorted.
"Why should I be?" She inquired, turning away with an angered frown on her face. "He could obviously care less if were here or not. He's got someone new to take care of now, doesn't he?" Storm frowned.
"Rogue, you know that isn't true," the weather mutant scolded lightly. "Logan cares about you. Has since the day he picked you up, actually." The teenager looked down at the rebuke, ears slightly red, knowing the truth in her teacher's words, yet not quite ready to admit it. With a sigh, she crouched down by the tree trunk once more, not resting on it as before, but letting it be there for support nonetheless.
"It's just, he's all I got," she explained finally, eyes studying the grass with faux interest. With gentle grace only a former goddess could posses, Storm knelt down beside her, reaching out an unseen hand to brush Rouge's long white stripe out of her face, careful not to touch her skin. Brown eyes glanced up, and Storm offered her a small smile.
"Then go talk to him." She stood then, offering her hand to take Rogue's gloved one, and the younger girl relented with a sigh.
"Tomorrow," she said after a moment. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. Let him and his new … uh … friend settle in." Storm's eyes flashed, but there was no anger within the warm brown depths. Just relief, and a bit of concern.
"Give John a chance, Rogue. He hasn't had it any easier than you."
Storm turned and began to walk away, and Rogue watched her go, a slight smirk in place. That woman was more her mother than her actual mother had ever been, or would ever be again. And she was right – Rouge would eventually have to talk to Logan. Tomorrow, in fact.
But giving 'John' a "chance" could most certainly wait until later.
0o0
Robert Drake.
Normally, he was one of Professor Xavier's prized pupils. He was intelligent, polite, and so powerful he was almost guaranteed a place within the X-Men. He had an equally well behaved and powerful girlfriend, hung around in all of the right social circles, and rarely, if ever, gave anyone any trouble.
So if anyone was aware of his current thoughts and attitude, they would be quite surprised.
Because Bobby was beyond infuriated, and he was constantly letting the walls know it.
He had to share a room with a fire mutant.
Usually, Bobby wouldn't have a problem sharing his room. He had done it before, with Victor Johnson, an empathy, and Drew Davies, who had the power to freeze time (both quite annoying idiots to live with). So it wasn't the fact that he had a new roommate.
It was the fact that said new roommate could produce and manipulate fire.
Bobby could produce and manipulate ice. It was just a catastrophe waiting to happen.
In fact, if this new kid, John, hadn't been under the Wolverine's care, Bobby would be letting the teen know exactly how he felt. However, as that was case, "Iceman" took out his frustrations on the wall, freezing before he got to it, and then bashing it in as he passed it.
John, who was walking behind the temperamental older boy, was far from impressed. Even he knew better than to let anger get the better over him for such trivial things. So Bobby didn't like him, big deal. John wasn't too fond of him either, but he wasn't burning down the walls.
But he was seriously reconsidering his decision to stay. Maybe he could convince Logan to take him and Rogue and get out of here. That way, Logan could still help her, and they wouldn't have to stay in this freak show.
"Here." Bobby's voice was bitter as he drew to a halt in front of a thin, brown wooden door. "This is my … our … room." He pushed the obstacle aside, and entered. John, his hands jammed into his pockets, followed.
"Don't touch my stuff," the other teen warned instantly. "That's everything that's covered in ice."
John bit back a sarcastic, crude comment he had picked up from Logan, and remained quiet, slowly noticing that the only thing not covered was a small patch of floor and a small, bare bed.
"That's where you sleep."
No shit.
"I'm going out with my friends. Friday night and all. Everything better be the same when I get back."
Bobby said nothing else to him, reaching out to snatch a jacket off of his bed before making a swift exit, slamming the door behind him. John winced at the loud noise.
For a few minutes, he just stood there, observing. He didn't know what half of the stuff in the tiny confine was, but without Bobby there, there was no one around to ask. Feeling his stomach fall slightly, John cast a cautious glance toward his bed, scrunching his nose at it.
"Show 'em you're the wrong guy to piss around with." Logan's earlier words flowed over him, making him grin at the helpful advice. He highly doubted his savior would find anything wrong with what he was about to do.
John extended his right palm, curling his fingers upward, and focused on it. With passionate concentration, he formed a small fireball in his hand. Little enough to get the job done without causing a fire. Gently, he lowered it to the frozen ground, smirking as it quickly traveled over the thin ice sheet, leaving nothing but a large puddle and soaked objects in its wake.
With a final glance and a roll of his gleaming blue eyes, John left the room, smirk still firmly in place.
To Be Continued …
Damn. Angst city. At least I managed some humor.
I think?
Seven thousand words. I better have managed at least one line of humor.
I really hoped you liked it. It was torture to write, I tell ya! John just didn't want to like anyone, no matter how much I tried. Annoying little moody mutant. Not to mention that both Stryker and Scott were dead set on staying out of this chapter.
And, yes, Bobby was a bit out of character. I did that on purpose. If you don't like it, well … tough?
Next Chapter: Rogue and Pyro action (finally), and maybe some Logan and Storm. Lots more action (explosive, really). Let's just say that dangerous powers and pissed off, dramatic teenagers don't mix.
X4 Update: Ok, spoiled readers, don't think you're getting these every chapter! -snorts- Here you go. This is what Fox Head-guy Tommy Rothman had to say on the subject of X3 and X4.
"It's the conclusion of this trilogy. These three movies work as a trilogy. These characters in this relationship, it's the culmination of that saga. It's the culmination and the resolution of those relationships laid out in the first two movies. That doesn't mean never, I would ever say never again, but I will say that this brings that saga to an end. It's quite the way the last Lord of the Rings, Return of the King, brought that trilogy to a conclusion in terms of those characters, that's what this movie does. It goes all the way back to the first one and rounds off and completes that three-part story".
Read into it and X4 is beyond a certainty.
Rumors: Third spinoff? Fan sites are going crazy over rumors of the movie Rogue, which promises to be the back-story of our favorite nonvampire … vampire.
Tom Felton supposedly in negotiations to play the role of Quick Silver. That's Draco Malfoy, for all you Harry Potter fans out there. Personally, I think he would be perfect for the role. -grin-.
And is the long-awaited Remy LeBeau finally to make an appearance? No solid proof, but thousands of fans are dead certain he is (and maybe he'll take Marie away from the cheating Bobby. Hehehehehehe.)
(O)
Ok, guys, I'm off. Gotta write the companion story to It'll Be Alright (read that one yet?), as well as other stuff. Leave me a review (and comment on something other than X4 news) Haha.
Adios, amigos!
Me