E e e k! More reviews! Yay! Reviews make me smile, you know. They make me feel loved. So, to let you know that you're loved too, here's another chapter from yours truly.

I like this chapter. Please excuse the fact that most of it is a flashback… sort of. Suggested songs to listen to while reading this are Savin' Me by Nickelback, What I've Done by Linkin Park or Let This Go by Paramore. All excellent, angsty songs.

Please keep reading. There's a load more to come!

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'The Demon in Me'

By Sergeant Scarlett

Chapter Four: Leave That Life Behind

…Pyro struggled violently despite his wounds as four armed FBI agents hauled him from the hospital into an armoured security van. He could barely walk, even after the best medical care in the country tending to his legs. His eyesight remained unchanged. It was unlikely he'd ever be able to see again.

He felt many strong hands strap his own tightly behind his back. He was then fitted into a secure straight jacket and finally tied with thick iron chains. Pyro yelled as loud as his voice would allow, and flailed his legs, hoping to catch one the agents' sorry faces. As he felt his foot connect hard with something, Pyro felt a heavy fist to his cheek. It was useless. The situation was completely out of his hands…

… "St.John Allerdyce –"

"Pyro," he snarled.

"Do I look as if I care hotshot?" replied the agent with an air of sarcasm. "Ah, I forgot, you can't see, can you?"

"Excellent observation, Agent Saunders. Did you forget too that I'm a class four mutant, and I could smoke your sorry ass if I wanted to?" Two could play at that game, and sarcasm was a well-practised art for him. Pyro would have absolutely no qualms about sending this guy up in a particularly warm pillar of smoke, but his current predicament prevented that almost entirely. According to Saunders, he was deep underground at a top-secret FBI base in a room that was guarded by twenty men with heavy weaponry and First Class shots. Saunders had sat Pyro down on an uncomfortable hard-backed wooden chair and bound his hands with tight cord.

Saunders snorted. "You talk big for a kid who's blind and immobile."

"I'm nineteen, bub."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me for thinking you were a thirteen year old with mental issues," he chuckled.

Anger boiled inside. Following his new acute hearing, Pyro aimed and spat. By the sound of Agent Saunders' fuming reaction, he'd got him right in the eyes. Now it was Pyro's time to chuckle. It earned him a harsh slap.

"Don't think your injuries won't keep me from beating you to a pulp," Saunders growled in a low voice. "You're here so we can drain all we want from you. After that, you'll be shipped off to a prison that only three people on this Earth know the location of. In your next life you'd better think hard before deciding on a career as a terrorist."

Pyro gulped unintentionally…

… "It's time. Bring him in."

The medic room door flew open. In came a struggling youth held by many large muscular men.

"Get the fuck off me, bitches!" he bellowed, straining his voice to the maximum.

Pyro heard a group of people speaking in hushed tones. Who were they?

"Over here," came one voice.

He was guided into a chair and strapped in. Perhaps they'd decided against the Judge's sentence. Maybe he was being led to his death.

"Are you sure you won't let me give it him?" Agent Saunders' voice was eager and sly.

"No, Agent. This must be administered by trained medical staff."

There was a stony silence.

"What's going on?" Pyro sneered. "Can't stand the sight of me? Going to kill me, Saunders?"

He heard the agent's mirthless laugh. "Oh, trust me Allerdyce, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see your neck strung up next to all the other pathetic excuses for human beings in the United States. But no, I've been overruled. My boss has opted for an alternative."

Just as Pyro was about give him a very snarky reply, namely about the fact he was't actually human, he felt his arm being wrenched away from him. On the inside of his elbow he was stabbed with what felt like a very thin blade.

Immediately Pyro felt as though his entire body was on fire. It consumed him completely, and he rejoiced in the familiar sensation of his friend burning with him. But the flames became hotter. And hotter. Suddenly, when he couldn't take any more of the intense heat, Pyro felt his body explode, the heat escaping from his body in powerful bouts of energy.

He screamed. He screamed louder than he ever had before. He heard all those around him falling backwards and calling for help.

For one glorious moment, he could see them. All the pathetic humans cowering in the corner, afraid of what they'd done. Afraid of him and his gift. His sight vanished again, and was replaced by disappointment.

Pyro embraced the last of the fire before he felt immense, torturing pain. The flames were ripped from him and then… the fire was gone.

Cautiously, the agents and doctors pulled themselves to their feet.

"Did it work?" came Saunders' irritated voice.

"Everyone out. We need to test it. Fire extinguishers and weapons at the ready, please."

Pyro heard the familiar sound of a lighter clicking open. Then he felt his hand burning. It was painful. But the fire had never hurt him before. He tried to manipulate it to send the assholes up in smoke. He couldn't.

"Well done everyone. It worked!"

"Not so tough now, are you kid?" came Agent Saunders' taunting voice. "Can't hide behind your blasted mutation any more, can you PYRO?"

Pyro… that wasn't his name anymore. He was plain John once more. His mutation was gone. He was… a human. A snivelling, cowardly homo sapiens.

He screamed. "You bastards! You'll fucking pay for this! You fucking bastards! You're dead…"

"I think that's quite enough for now."

John breathed heavily as he felt the Professor remove his hands from his head. Yes. That was more than enough. It was bad enough having to live through that ordeal once.

"Yes John, I quite agree with you. Not very pleasant." Xavier's voice was sympathetic.

"It doesn't take a genius to work that out, Doc," John snarled, rubbing his temples. "Jesus, you couldn't be a little gentler next time, could you?"

He heard the Professor laugh. It was patronising. "I could, only you're not letting me in. I understand that what has happened to you was dreadful, but I can't help you unless you let me."

John snorted. "Spare me the lecture. Can I go now?"

Xavier chuckled good-naturedly. "Yes John; you can go."

---

"Bobby, don't. Not now. Please."

Bobby neglected to stop what he was doing, which was trailing hungry kisses down Marie's unsuspecting neck.

"Bobby, stop, please. I'm not in the mood."

Her boyfriend sighed deeply as he slumped back into the sofa beside her. "Gees, Rogue. Quit being so morbid. This is difficult for me too, you know."

Now it was Marie's turn to sigh. "I know. But I've got so much on my mind lately. What with John coming back and -"

"Don't think this isn't affecting me too, Rogue," Bobby said pointedly, his eyes narrowing. "I'm just trying to get on with things as normal, like our relationship, which, might I add, doesn't seem to be going anywhere." He crossed his arms defensively. "Ever since John came back last week you've been acting all weird and avoiding me."

"Bobby, that's ridiculous. Of course I haven't been avoiding you."

"Don't give me that, Rogue."

She stared at him incredulously. "You're being unreasonable."

"And you're being evasive."

"Am not! You're being ridiculous. And don't say our relationship isn't going anywhere. I took the Cure so we could be together properly. Don't you appreciate that?" Her voice was hurtful.

Bobby got up, clearly agitated. "And look what good it's done us." He opened his mouth to speak again, but thought better of it. Instead, he left the recreation room, leaving Marie feeling very confused as to where this left them.

"Problems in the little igloo on the prairie?" came a rather amused voice from the door. Marie turned to see John carefully guiding himself into the room using a long cane.

"I notice your loss of eyesight has clearly not affected your complete lack of tact," Marie huffed, turning herself away from him.

She heard John chuckle. "Now, now Roguey, play nice."

"Can we get one thing straight?" she interrupted. "We're both in the same boat. We both took the Cure. If you can't be Pyro, then I can't be Rogue. It's Marie now."

John's face screwed up in fury, his facetious manner gone. "Nah-uh, we aren't in the same fucking boat, as you so bluntly put it. You voluntarily took that thing, and don't you ever forget it. You call me a traitor? I think you'll find you're one too."

"No, you misunderstood me," Marie cut in, desperate to redeem herself. "What I meant was that we've both left that life behind us. We need to move on, John."

"Try taking your own advice, Rogue."

Still in an angered mood, John staggered out, leaving Marie in his wake.

'Things still haven't changed…' she though sadly.