A/N: Okay now you find out what happens…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****************
Chapter 37 – Give and Take
Tristian reappeared in the med room they had John in. Logan and Scott looked up from where they stood hunkered over a body. Jean's body stood in the way of John's face, but he could see her hand pressed on a bloody rag of a shirt against his upper stomach, close to the chest. She moved slightly and he could see his friend's pale face, blood sliding from his colorless lips that were parted in a desperate attempt to breathe.
He moved to the table, legs feeling like led, looking his friend over. His heart fell straight to his stomach. It was bad, very bad. He was bleeding internally as well as externally and there wasn't much life left in him. The bullet had done a great deal of damage.
"Who did this?" he asked without moving his eyes.
"The police…long story," Logan told him, point blank.
"One I would like to hear later," he told them, moving Jean aside gently. She moved standing by John's legs and watched intensely with hope in her eyes.
"Can you do anything?" she asked quietly.
Tristian shook his head, "I don't know."
"Do what?" Scott asked with his usual flared tone, stepping up behind Jean. She put her hand out and stopped him before he could get any closer to Tristian. "What are you going to do to him?"
Tristian overlooked John and then put one hand on the side of his face, the other over the wound that still pumped fresh blood. He could feel the weak, thready pulse beneath his hand and hear the intake of his raspy, shallow breathing.
"Everything I can," he answered Scott's question.
With a deep breath, Tristian closed his eyes, focusing his blood and energy on the wound. He opened them once he felt the light pouring from his body into John. He focused on Pyro, letting memories do the work. From first meeting his arrogant friend to surprising him with his shadow gift to teaching him to create fire, the memories ran through him, helping him to heal the wound just as he had healed Bobby. It was healing, but healing wasn't going to be enough. John's breathing was shallow, becoming less and the sudden stillness of his chest wasn't a good thing. No, this wouldn't happen, he wouldn't let it.
.John needed blood and life as well. Tristian changed the course of his healing, connecting it to his own life and blood.
With a hiss he changed it, feeling the pain course through him at once as he gave and took. It was like an iron hammer hitting him over and over each time in a different place. His heart beat faster and his breathing became rapid as he gave life back to John.
Tristian gritted his teeth, feeling the impacts on his body by doing this, but he kept at it, healing the wound all the way. He wouldn't let his friend die, not like this, not now. He bit his lower lip from the pain and work of it and focused harder. He could feel a gash forming where John's wound had been on his stomach, it peeled his own skin open in agonizing torment. He ignored it, feeling the sudden pulsing beneath his hand as Pyro's heart began to beat, strong and even. His chest moved suddenly, taking a deep breath.
Tristian broke the connection as John's eyes fluttered. He clutched the table with both hands as his own body felt heavy and closed his eyes, hanging his head low. His legs were weak and he was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his feverish face as he trembled. Tristian could feel the wound bleeding down his skin, hot and sticky, mixing with sweat as it throbbed, each throb sending more blood coursing out of him.
He couldn't stay there and let them see him like this. He didn't want anyone's help. He wanted to be alone, to leave and deal with his pain on his own.
He heard Rogue and Bobby gasp, rushing to John's side. He had no idea when they came in and frankly didn't care, he was drained and hurt. He felt a hand on his back and heard Jean's voice. "Tristian…are you all right?"
"I…I need," he gasped taking a deep breath. "I need to be alone."
"Tristian you're," but he didn't hear anymore. He vanished, going through the vent and hurrying to get somewhere private. He didn't feel like he could go on much further. His power was gone as it was. This was just hurting him more.
He formed in his room, unable to go any further, lying on the floor. He waited a moment, trying to get the pain to stop before pushing himself up on trembling arms. His body felt heavy. He couldn't get up. He collapsed back to the ground, feeling his eyelids flutter as the exhaust and hurt took over his senses. He couldn't stay awake so he gave into the comforting darkness, falling into a feverish sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~******************
More to come, stick around and keep looking for updates
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****************
Chapter 37 – Give and Take
Tristian reappeared in the med room they had John in. Logan and Scott looked up from where they stood hunkered over a body. Jean's body stood in the way of John's face, but he could see her hand pressed on a bloody rag of a shirt against his upper stomach, close to the chest. She moved slightly and he could see his friend's pale face, blood sliding from his colorless lips that were parted in a desperate attempt to breathe.
He moved to the table, legs feeling like led, looking his friend over. His heart fell straight to his stomach. It was bad, very bad. He was bleeding internally as well as externally and there wasn't much life left in him. The bullet had done a great deal of damage.
"Who did this?" he asked without moving his eyes.
"The police…long story," Logan told him, point blank.
"One I would like to hear later," he told them, moving Jean aside gently. She moved standing by John's legs and watched intensely with hope in her eyes.
"Can you do anything?" she asked quietly.
Tristian shook his head, "I don't know."
"Do what?" Scott asked with his usual flared tone, stepping up behind Jean. She put her hand out and stopped him before he could get any closer to Tristian. "What are you going to do to him?"
Tristian overlooked John and then put one hand on the side of his face, the other over the wound that still pumped fresh blood. He could feel the weak, thready pulse beneath his hand and hear the intake of his raspy, shallow breathing.
"Everything I can," he answered Scott's question.
With a deep breath, Tristian closed his eyes, focusing his blood and energy on the wound. He opened them once he felt the light pouring from his body into John. He focused on Pyro, letting memories do the work. From first meeting his arrogant friend to surprising him with his shadow gift to teaching him to create fire, the memories ran through him, helping him to heal the wound just as he had healed Bobby. It was healing, but healing wasn't going to be enough. John's breathing was shallow, becoming less and the sudden stillness of his chest wasn't a good thing. No, this wouldn't happen, he wouldn't let it.
.John needed blood and life as well. Tristian changed the course of his healing, connecting it to his own life and blood.
With a hiss he changed it, feeling the pain course through him at once as he gave and took. It was like an iron hammer hitting him over and over each time in a different place. His heart beat faster and his breathing became rapid as he gave life back to John.
Tristian gritted his teeth, feeling the impacts on his body by doing this, but he kept at it, healing the wound all the way. He wouldn't let his friend die, not like this, not now. He bit his lower lip from the pain and work of it and focused harder. He could feel a gash forming where John's wound had been on his stomach, it peeled his own skin open in agonizing torment. He ignored it, feeling the sudden pulsing beneath his hand as Pyro's heart began to beat, strong and even. His chest moved suddenly, taking a deep breath.
Tristian broke the connection as John's eyes fluttered. He clutched the table with both hands as his own body felt heavy and closed his eyes, hanging his head low. His legs were weak and he was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his feverish face as he trembled. Tristian could feel the wound bleeding down his skin, hot and sticky, mixing with sweat as it throbbed, each throb sending more blood coursing out of him.
He couldn't stay there and let them see him like this. He didn't want anyone's help. He wanted to be alone, to leave and deal with his pain on his own.
He heard Rogue and Bobby gasp, rushing to John's side. He had no idea when they came in and frankly didn't care, he was drained and hurt. He felt a hand on his back and heard Jean's voice. "Tristian…are you all right?"
"I…I need," he gasped taking a deep breath. "I need to be alone."
"Tristian you're," but he didn't hear anymore. He vanished, going through the vent and hurrying to get somewhere private. He didn't feel like he could go on much further. His power was gone as it was. This was just hurting him more.
He formed in his room, unable to go any further, lying on the floor. He waited a moment, trying to get the pain to stop before pushing himself up on trembling arms. His body felt heavy. He couldn't get up. He collapsed back to the ground, feeling his eyelids flutter as the exhaust and hurt took over his senses. He couldn't stay awake so he gave into the comforting darkness, falling into a feverish sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~******************
More to come, stick around and keep looking for updates