One Week Later.
Earlier.
He liked it this way. In two weeks, he was hers and she was his. It was just them. Literally. He stood up and looked outside the window. She was out buying dinner. In another week's time, they'd leave. For good. Start over. He wanted to do that. She wanted to do that. Go somewhere – anywhere – where nobody knew them.
"You can't always see things from just a window," a voice called. Pyro turned around quickly. Magneto. But he was different. He was dressed…well, dressed as he had been when he was a mutant. But he had been cured. He should've been wearing…normal clothes. At his confused look, Magneto smiled. "Hello, Pyro."
"You're human," he stated. He opened his hand a little, and Magneto caught a glimpse of his lighter.
"So is you're 'girlfriend'." Pause. "I've been watching the two of you lately. Exchanging kisses. Glances. It's…sickening. You're still a mutant, and yet you've become soft. Not just soft. Softer than I would've ever imagined. Soft enough to fall for a human. A human who was a mutant, and ended up betraying her kind. The old Pyro would've found that deserving of a punishment." Pyro winced. He understood. By 'punishment', Magneto meant death.
"How're you…back?" he asked.
"That doesn't matter. I have one question for you, Pyro. Or is it John now?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Do you love her?"
"I don't know."
"That's not the correct answer. Yes or no? Do you love her?"
"Yes," he murmured. He knew it inside. Heck, even if it was two weeks. To them, it could've been a year. A great year. He knew others would consider it impossible to fall in love in two weeks, but he loved her. Not only that, he cared for her. He could watch her sleep for ages. Stare at her for what seemed like centuries. He would hold her tight when they slept, proving to her that he was there for her. That he would always be there. So yeah – heck, yeah – he loved her!
"Ah. I see. How badly do you love her, Pyro?" Again, Magneto didn't wait for a reply. "Badly enough to die for her? Or to make sure at any costs that, given your current circumstances, she wouldn't end up dead?"
"What are you saying?"
"I've met that woman who attacked you. And I've paid her a suitable amount of money to stay away from you. She's not part of the deal. But I could make her. And trust me, that woman could kill her in 24 hours."
"Are you blackmailing me?" Pyro demanded. A ball of fire appeared in his hand. He was challenging the man who had once been his leader.
"No. I'm just helping you ensure Ms. D'Ancanto's safety."
"What are the terms?" Pyro asked. He knew he couldn't win this. Magneto had years of experience. He barely had more than three. He also knew the man. He was one who kept his word. To the very end.
"You leave right now. You don't tell her why. You just come with me and never talk to her again."
"Can I leave a note?" he asked, his tone bitter.
"No. She has to believe that you left on your own accord."
"And if I say no?"
"I leave. She dies."
"Guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Pyro said.
"Not really. But, Pyro. I made you the warrior you have become. And within a few more years of practice, no mutant will be able to stop you. I'm merely helping you, m'boy."
"What if I don't want to be helped?"
Magneto didn't answer. "Just choose. She lives or she dies."
Magneto waited for his answer. It seemed to take ages. Pyro considered his options. He knew that his attacker was tough and greatly skilled. He knew that at one point, he wouldn't be able to protect Rogue. He knew that his attacked would be able to find them, no matter where they would hide. He looked around the room, thinking hard. Lose her…or really lose her. He turned back to Magneto.
Now.
"John?" Rogue asked, entering their room. It was dark. The lights were off. She flicked them on, and looked around the room. It looked no different than earlier. "John?" she asked again. She put down the bag she had been carrying, and turned.
She nearly jumped. Pyro had just appeared right behind her. He grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her. He was already carrying the small duffel she had bought to hold their stuff. He wasn't just pulling her, he was dragging her quickly out of the motel.
"John!" she said, stopping.
"Not here," he practically hissed. He fiddled nervously, and managed to open the car door. "Get in." She wasn't convinced. "Please," he said softly. Rogue nodded, and got in.
"What's going on?" she asked as he started the engine, sped backwards and sped out of the parking lot. He was nervous. His hands were shaking. Clearly terrified.
"I…Magneto…He came. He told me to come with him, or you'd die." Pause. "I didn't go with him. I couldn't lose you. Not after…after everything. Damn, Rogue, I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I just cost you your life. I just…I think...I think I really – "
"I think I might be starting to love you to," she blurted. "John, I know it's too soon. I know we're probably morons for our choices...but I don't want to leave you either."
"I was going to say that I really care about you. Seriously care about you," he said, trying to cover up his mess. She had just blurted it out to him. He was shocked. And in sheer stupidity, made an attempt to cover up something that could've ended up beautifully.
"Oh," Rogue murmured. She was turning red. "I…" then she just gave up on the topic. Heck, she cared for him too. That was good enough for now. "Where are we going?" she asked quietly.
"I'm not – " he began. But he couldn't finish his sentence.
A huge truck had just collided with them, hitting them from his side – the driver's side. It crushed the car in areas, driving it farther and farther away into the woods of the deserted area. It was untouched, seeing as many accidents had occurred there. Who would've thought this would've happened? he thought painfully and sarcastically. It hurt a lot. Then the car flipped over, and he saw Rogue had already been knocked out. It finally stopped, and they were upside down. He could hear the drip of oil. His head was throbbing badly and he could barely see anything clearly. He could feel and taste his own blood. He could see drips of Rogue's falling down her forehead too. He just prayed that she was alive. She just couldn't be dead. How could he do this? What if she was? He'd lost her. For real. Damn. He slowly moved a clearly fractured right arm onto her hand, his clasping it. Please squeeze back. He squeezed her hand, and waited. Nothing.
"I…love…you…too," he half-panted, half-whispered. His throat was burning now. His mind was aching. Everything was blurry. He knew he was going to black out. He felt sharp pangs and pains all over his body. Could feel the sting of open wounds. Rogue's eyes were closed. His hold on her hand grew tighter. He could only hope that he would stay awake for the fires to burst. Then he could possibly save her…that was if there was a her to save. He begged there was. He didn't care if he was about to lose himself. He did this. And if he lived and she died, the guilt would overwhelm him. "Can you hear me, baby?" he breathed. "I love you. I really love you. I don't care either. I'm never leaving you. Can you hear me?"
"I knew you wouldn't," she choked on her words, blood spluttering down her mouth. She tilted her head towards him. They both her the truck reverse and drive off.
He almost smiled, except that it hurt too much. She was hurting too. She would lose consciousness too. She could barely open her eyes. Breathing had become slightly hard, and her chest was on fire. Her left side was aching heavily, and she couldn't move her arms. But she could her hands. She tightened her grip onto Pyro's hand as he tightened his grip over hers.
"I'm not letting you go either," she told him as clearly as she could.
The car exploded into flames. He had never done anything like it before. He just tried as hard as he could. Not to just manipulate the flames, but to make them move him. It just added to the pain. He had never tried anything like it before. He just clutched her hand in his tighter. Her grip was loosening. The flames barely tickled them. It had surrounded them, an inch away from their skin. Please, oh, please, he thought. The concentration could've killed off his brain, but somehow it worked. The flames transported them. They were out of the car. He saw the blurriness of the dark blue sky. The flames on the car had disappeared and died down. He could feel Rogue's hand move up slowly and softly onto his chest. He tried to sit up, but after the usage of powers, he could barely move.
"Don't close your eyes," she told him. She herself had managed to sit up, but he knew she was in great pain at this movement. He could feel her hand was wet with blood. Her bones might've been broken. He didn't know. Her other hand slipped up to his cheek. "John, stay awake," she pleaded.
"I will if you will," he said, half-smiling. His hands went over hers, taking them for reassurance. Rogue looked up as he slightly blacked out unconscious.
He was out before he heard her speak.
"Logan."