Readers, forgive me of my sins.

My muse left me. It was tragic, really. Thank you so much for the reviews – I feel so special when I get them :) After this chapter, this story will be moving forward at a quicker pace. With these first few chapters, I really wanted to establish the situation. Hopefully my clever readers will be picking up on hints to the future plot. I'm so excited about this story! Thanks for sticking with me on this!

Any video-makers interested in making a trailer video for 'The Demon in Me'? Let me know!

An ideal song to listen to for the end of this chapter is the Jamelia version of 'Numb' by Linkin Park (from the Radio 1 Live Lounge) or 'My Skin' by Natalie Merchant, off her album Ophelia.

Read on! Don't forget that review:)

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'The Demon in Me'

By Sergeant Scarlett

Chapter Six: Amends

John felt the emptiness of the library as Marie left. He tried to breathe, but felt his throat tighten uncomfortably. Beneath his bandage around his head, his eyes began to warm considerably. The beginnings of silent tears dampened his eyes. Some crept down his cheek. There was no pain anymore, not from his wounds or his eyes, not even the scar across his face.

The silence consumed him, and then released him to the sounds of nature from outside. As more tears fell gracefully down his face, he listened to the tranquillity of flowing, trickling water – the fountain; a voice singing to the wind – the birds; the calming, soothing sound of the breeze teasing the leaves – breathtaking.

John could just imagine it – the Sun's warming rays engulfing the campus, brightening the sky. Since when did I become such a fucking romantic? he snorted, though not wiping away the tears. There was no-one there to witness this moment of weakness. Thank Jesus.

"I will not let this get to me. I will not."

He reached out for his cane and gripped it tightly.

"No more now. What's done is done. No more."

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From the door, leaning interestedly on the frame, Marie watched intently as the tears rolled down John's cheek. He was fighting some inner battle with himself, and to Marie's constant surprise and pleasure, it looked as though he was winning.

I think that's the first time I've ever seen St John Allerdyce cry.

Marie smiled in spite of herself.

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"Hey John, you in here?"

It was later that day, soon after the Sun had set. Bobby Drake knocked patiently on his former best friend's door, his palms sweating uncomfortably. This was bound to be unpleasant.

Bobby had been angry with John since he took that first step off the jet. Their mutual respect had been slowly diminishing, but Bobby had never expected John would act like he did. He just had to be on the winning side, he had to be in control. Look where it got him. He can barely walk, he can't see, he's got no friends to speak of. Bobby sighed deeply as he waited for an answer from within the room. I guess that's what happens when you turn terrorist, when you become a traitor. He got what he wanted – he only had to care about himself, and that's how it'll stay.

There was still no reply. Bobby gritted his teeth in defeat. Although, he wasn't the one who'd lost last month.

Bobby Drake had never craved power, only friendship from the young pyromaniac. He relived their fight every night in his dreams, feeling the ultimate power course though his body. The ice burned every fibre of his being as he felt himself become engulfed by the cold.

"You're in way over your head Bobby," Pyro seethed, his face alight from the raging flames soaring from his fingertips, "maybe you should go back to school."

Bobby felt his chest tighten as he witnessed the malice in his friend's black, fiery eyes. He'd been kidding himself all along. John Allerdyce didn't need him anymore. He never did.

That realisation sent shockwaves through Bobby's brain as the flames danced violently around him, wrapping his entire body in extreme heat. It was unbearable. The ice called to him – he didn't need the warmth of the fire any more.

As a triumphant smile pulled at the corner of John's cocky mouth, Bobby's entire form turned into solid ice. Feeling the new power, Bobby took Pyro's hands and extinguished the fire.

Bobby felt his heartstrings tug painfully as Pyro looked up in awe and fear. But no – the pyromaniac needed putting in his place. A firm head-but accomplished that task.

"You never should've left…"

Bobby couldn't help but feel responsible for John's fate. Would he have responded to reason? Would he have listened, and come home quietly? Releasing his breath slowly, Bobby felt a smile grace his lips. No. I couldn't have changed him then. But, perhaps I can now.

He rapped his knuckles on the door once more, his agitation clear. Still no answer. Bobby gave up. John evidently did not want to talk.

As Bobby turned to leave, he heard the creak of a door opening. Light flooded the empty corridor from the open windows in the room.

"I guess you don't know how difficult it is to find and unlock a door when blind?" John smirked as he leant casually against the door. "Come on in, Iceman; it's been a while."

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Bobby had predicted a long, awkward silence as he stepped into John's room, but it seemed as though John was eager to talk.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" he said as he handed Bobby a drink. "Finally decided you can bear to sit in the same room as a traitor?" It was a joke, but Bobby couldn't help but feel disappointed. He kept his eyes on his drink, not being able to look at John's bandaged face. He forced a laugh.

"Yeah, I thought I'd get off my high horse. But in all seriousness John, why are you here?" He looked up to view John's reaction, and saw that his expression had softened. "Why'd you come back?"

John chucked hollowly. "It wasn't exactly my choice, believe it or not. Put it this way; it was either here or six feet under. I don't know about you, but I didn't fancy the latter."

Bobby felt his eyes widen. They were going to kill him?

"All I've got to do is be a good little boy scout for two years and I'm a free man. If not, well, I think that's self-explanatory, don't you?" A ghostly smile crossed his lips. "So," he continued, taking a sip of his drink, "what's new in your life?"

"Not much," Bobby shrugged.

"Still the human fire extinguisher…" John laughed half-heartedly, as he became lost in a trail of thought.

"And you're still the hot-head," Bobby countered playfully. He was about to speak again when he regarded a change in his friend's presence. He watched as John gritted his teeth harshly. "John?"

"Not any more."

What? Bobby was confused. "I don't understand…"

"Doesn't take a rocket scientist to work it out, Iceman," seethed John through his gritted teeth.

Bobby still couldn't work out what John meant.

"Hand me my lighter." It wasn't a command; it was a request. Bobby fumbled around through John's drawer until he found the Zippo. He placed it in John's outstretched hand. He flicked it open carelessly and brought forth a tiny, dancing flame. Cautiously, John waved a hand over it and immediately drew it back, holding it up for Bobby to see.

There was a fresh wound; a mark from where the fire had burned his flesh.

The Cure. They gave him the Cure. He's not a mutant anymore; he's human now.

Bobby looked from John's burned hand to his bandaged eyes and felt a rush of pity flood through him.

This is all my fault! I caused this. I left him at Alcatraz to die, and he's suffered a fate worse than death. Who knows how they treated him in prison? John was such a proud mutant, and they took that from him. If only I'd helped him! If only I'd persuaded him to stay…

"Yeah, so now you know," came John's rough voice from no-where.

"John, I'm so sorry," Bobby managed, his words soft. "If there's anything I can do, just say the word."

"Well, as you mentioned it, there is one thing…"

"Anything!" exclaimed Bobby, eager to make amends. "Name it!"

A familiar smile tugged at John's mouth. "I want my roommate back. Bit difficult here by myself, as you can probably imagine."

Bobby found himself grinning. "Of course. You'll need to behave, though. I'm not taking any of your smart-ass comments this time."

"Take them or leave them, my friend. It's all one package," John smirked mischievously. "Would you have me any different?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "no I wouldn't."

John took a swig from his drink and pursed his lips. "So, how're things; school, X-Men, parents, friends… girlfriend?" He leant back to listen.

"School's going great, actually. Without you I'm finally getting somewhere!" he joked. "The X-Men have been inactive really since Alcatraz. We're basically gathering more students; there seem to be more children with mutant capabilities out there than ever." He paused. "My parents are slowly becoming more understanding. Ronnie still won't talk to me though.

"Everyone here is kind of the same. There's Warren too, or Angel; we're good friends. Kitty went out with him last week, believe it or not."

"And Marie?" John pressed carefully.

"Honestly? Not that good. Things haven't been right since she got the Cure. Rogue's not happy, and I'm sure she's using your return as an excuse to drive a rift between us." Bobby sighed, and ran a hand over his tired face. "I don't know what to do, John."

"Hey, you're asking me for help with a girl? Bad move."

"I'm out of options."

"So I'm a last resort now?" exclaimed John in mock annoyance. "Well, I see you're happy to have me back." Bobby could just about see a raised eyebrow above John's bandage. "In all seriousness, though, there's no point in asking me."

"I don't know, John; I value your opinion," Bobby claimed sincerely.

John didn't answer straight away. "I'll sleep on it, and let you know what the Love Doctor prescribes. How's that for a smart-ass comment?"

"You're top of the league, as per usual, John," grinned Bobby.

"I always will be, Iceman. Always will be."

---

Still stunned from what she'd witnessed earlier that day, Marie was struggling to get to sleep. She didn't used to suffer from insomnia, but ever since she took the Cure she seemed to be more prone to it than usual. Perhaps it was some warped side effect, but Marie wasn't so sure. Even more so, Marie had struggled to sleep since John came back.

Her faith in human kind (and indeed mutant kind) had been restored that day. She saw a change in John Allerdyce that she never thought possible. Although, Marie thought sadly, it's just a shame he had to lose his sight for it to happen. It had been a life ambition of hers – to witness a miracle. Perhaps this is it.

Marie had to admit that, although dubious at first, she was glad to have John back. Once he got some of his old self back, her life at the mansion would lighten up considerably. Her thoughts drifted from John to Bobby. What am I going to do about him? I don't… feel anything for him anymore. Was it John's return that sparked this? No, this has been happening since Bobby realised there was nothing special about me after all.

She felt the tears warm her eyes. Ashamed, Marie wiped them away furiously.

She never thought she'd miss her ability, but she did. It was a part of her, part of her genetic make-up. It was no wonder Marie felt as though a part of her had been ripped out. At first it felt good – she could touch Bobby without killing him, she could kiss him… Then she realised she didn't feel anything, even when she could touch.

She felt so… numb.

This wasn't her skin. This wasn't her.

I was born mutant. I'm human now. It's so… unnatural.

The worst part? No-one knew what Marie D'Ancanto was going through. No-one else she knew had willingly taken the Cure. There was John, of course, but as he reminded her, they were not in the same situation.

Her tears were staining her pillow.

The sheer darkness of her room was comforting, yet abusive at the same time. Marie sobbed hard into her pillow, the tears choking her. Usually, the tears would subside after a while, but not this time. Marie felt the full force of her decision to destroy her ability – and it hurt.

It hurt more than it ought to. A searing pain shot through her legs, her torso, her arms, and finally through her head. Marie gasped, clutching her head, begging the pain to disappear.

It got worse.

Her body was on fire. It burned agonizingly.

She let out a heart-wrenching, ear-splitting scream, and all faded to black.

To be continued…

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