Title: You've Got To Go There To Come Back
Author: Iris, "sleepall-day" at Livejournal
Rating: Fairly tame, around PG-13.
Timeline: Directly after Alcatraz events of X3.
Summary: After the fight at Alcatraz, Pyro is found and brought back to Xavier's mansion. For his criminal actions he has been given house arrest at Xavier's School and he must learn to adjust.
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or any Marvel characters used in this fanfiction. This story is just for fun, and any resemblances you find to actual people, living or dead, shows that you have strange friends.

Chapter 2: "Come on, this tie is gettin' on my last nerve."

Something was different. Ugh. I had a dull headache. That wasn't it. That was there before. I was definitely feeling good enough to sit up though, and where I sat up on was a bed. Okay, that was definitely new. I must've been out for a long time – why was I in a bed? I knew this much: I was at Alcatraz fighting alongside Magneto, and then fighting Bobby, the "Iceman." Then he'd knocked me out, but not completely. That kid never had much in him. It wasn't the blow to the head that put me out of commission, it was the sudden startling of the hit that caused me to lose focus on my powers and burn myself. Damn it. I hadn't done that in so long, probably since I first learned that I had any powers at all. It turns out a fire I can't control is a fire that can burn me. Damn that Bobby.

And then what happened? My face hurt so much. I'd never, ever felt the sensation of real burning before, and it had torn apart my face. Then I'd blacked out, and now I was in some place I didn't recognize. I was going to be disfigured forever. I couldn't bear it, I held my face in my hands as if to hide the ugly burns or to just hide away the world, or – that's it. My face. That's what was different. It didn't even hurt anymore.

I stood up – no, bolted – and looked around the room. There was a small bathroom attached to the bedroom, and I ran inside. The mirror. I was… I looked like me. What happened to all the burns? They were gone! The places they were weren't even hurting anymore. I couldn't have been knocked out long enough for them to heal, could I – no, those probably wouldn't have ever healed at all, under normal circumstances. I backed out of the bathroom, and opened the bedroom door.

Xavier's school. So that's where I was. As soon as I opened the door it all came back in a wave. The hallway was instantly recognizable, with its wooden décor and the small doors along the entire hall. I can't even begin to imagine how I got here, or why I'm not… restrained, I guess. I was working with Magneto. Should I leave?

No, I decided. I needed some answers first. I wandered down the hall slowly, not sure which way to go first. Maybe I should try Xavier's office. At least there I'd probably get a straight answer about what I was doing here. I turned around and headed the opposite direction but I didn't even make it to the office before I bumped right into someone I didn't at all care to see.

"Look who's up and at 'em," said a gruff voice. One could practically hear the hairs growing on that man as he spoke. "We've got some words to have with you," Wolverine growled, and grabbed my upper arm and dragged me to the office.

"Hey!" I started to say defensively, and clenched a fist with my free hand. The wrist lighter was gone. I frantically searched my pockets. The old Zippo, that was gone, too. There was a sense of panic when I realized I couldn't defend myself. They were still there when I was about to pass out on Alcatraz! They must have taken them from me when they brought me here. Whoever "they" were.

"Hello, John," Storm said in a weary voice as Wolverine practically threw me into the room. I also saw Hank McCoy. I said nothing. Realizing I had no lighter made me feel I was no longer in a position to be too antagonistic.

I finally found my voice, and said, "What's going on? Why am I here?"

"Warren found you on Alcatraz, and brought you here because you were hurt and unconscious. You seem to have already made a recovery, however, so we moved you out of our infirmary and were waiting for you to wake up," she answered.

"Who's… never mind," I said quietly. I sighed, and looked around the office. So they had found me and brought me back. To nurse me back to health? To turn me in to the authorities? What was it? I sighed again as I realized I didn't have much to say for my own case.

Then, I remembered that they hadn't locked me up. "You can't stop me from leaving, though," I said as defiantly as I could. "I don't have to say thanks for anything, either."

I backed away from Storm and Wolverine towards the door, and McCoy finally spoke. "In fact, you are most mistaken, young John. We have informed the attorney general of your presence here and have presented your case."

Case? What case? I decided to ask. "Case? What case?"

"I had originally argued that we take a different course of action, but Ororo here, Miss Munroe to you, insisted that we allow you a chance for rehabilitation from past crimes," McCoy answered. This did not help clarify the situation much.

I guess Storm sensed my confusion, because she said, "John, you were a student of mine. I was sorry to see you go, but we're not condemning people." Wolverine scoffed. Storm gave him a look, and continued. "Your leaving us was your choice, but maybe you'd like to correct that."

Before she could continue, I cut her off, and said, "What? You said it yourself. It was my choice. I didn't choose to stay here, remember? Why would I want to correct myself? I'm… I'm leaving. Again." I backed away some more.

"On the contrary," McCoy said. "We are obligated to respond to criminal behavior. Miss Munroe wished as lenient a punishment as possible, so we have arranged for a plea bargain."

"A what? You're turning me in?" I said, now more confused than ever.

"We spoke to the Department of Mutant Affairs," Storm said, softening a little bit. "We tried to explain your situation, that your background involved unresolved discrimination issues with your parents, and how you tried to fill that parental role with Magneto." I cringed, but all of that is in my files at the school. Xavier once explained how certain things aren't confidential to the school exclusively.

"We're using as much as we can to make a fair case for you, John. We just want a second chance for all of our students," Storm continued before I could ask why they were doing this. I heaved another sigh as I remembered an old poster in a classroom of Storm's, something about "the joys of teaching" and "molding young minds." She could be telling me the truth.

"What am I supposed to do?" I said bitterly. Here I was again. The rock and the hard place.

Two mornings later I was almost glad to be getting out of the mansion and to the courthouse, as it had been sufficiently awkward stepping around all the kids currently living there. I was given some clothes and told to make myself presentable for the day, and left with Hank McCoy, Storm, and Wolverine. There was a woman in a dress suit in the lobby waiting for us, who Storm said was my lawyer.

The woman extended her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Anna McDaniel. You can just call me Anna." She was friendly enough, but she got right to the point. "Just remember, we are addressing the fire at the Worthington clinic resulting in some fatalities and injuries, and assistance in the escape of several captured mutants. Don't bring up any crimes from the past, and don't say anything when not spoken to, all right? We're going to do our best. They're going to ask you how you plead, and say 'guilty.' That's going to be all you have to say, all right?"

I nodded, since she was brisk enough that I didn't have to say much else. Guilty. I don't care that I did what I did – it was such an ugly word.

The entire courthouse was a blur. I'd never been in one before. I'd never even had to serve jury duty, since I wasn't even a citizen of America. I barely heard some of the things the judge said to me. I probably should have listened harder, since the judge and lawyer were actually talking about me and the things I'd done, but it was all so dizzying. I know what I did. And I don't feel too guilty for a lot of the things I did. But sitting in that room made me feel like a hundred pairs of eyes were looking at me calling me guilty. I guess because they were. After such a long period of doing whatever I pleased, for the first time in years, I felt ashamed sitting in that court room.

The next time that I was spoken to after I plead myself guilty, that ugly word, was when the judge presented me with something unexpected. "You must understand that we tend not to take into account personal issues or feelings with the law. However, your case is a different one. Not everyone today is discriminated against as harshly as mutants. The woman Raven Darkholme has been extremely helpful in locating the criminal Magneto in the past few weeks. However, as of late he has of course slipped away. We can offer you a choice, John Allerdyce. Raven Darkholme has informed us that you will know better than she at this time where he can be found. If you choose to aid the authorities in his capture, you will serve house arrest instead of prison time."

House arrest? But I didn't have a house. "I… she's right," I said out loud without even thinking. Then I cursed myself for giving anything away before I made a decision. But what kind of decision was that? House arrest or prison time? It sounded like an easy choice, but it meant betraying Magneto. He was the only one that gave me a home ever since before my parents didn't think I deserved one with them anymore. Could I justify betraying him?

"Mr. Allerdyce?" The judge was pressing me.

"Can I think about this?" I said, wishing that I hadn't said it so harshly in a court room.

So Raven Darkholme had told them that I knew where Magneto was. Raven… I see Mystique in my head. We had never been the closest of friends, but I worked with her long enough to feel that she was something of a friend. Something like that. She was proud of being a mutant, I remembered. She had all kinds of dignity and it was taken away when she risked her life for Magneto. I remembered seeing her and thinking the most trivial thing, "She has black hair." And Magneto had taken away more of her dignity when he shunned her and walked away. I couldn't even say anything. He was all I had. He cared for her, didn't he? I thought he cared for me too. He would have left me too. He would have left me.

That didn't change the fact that he didn't care for me, did it? Second chances, Storm had said. Would he have given me one?

"No." It was as simple as that.

"No, what, Mr. Allerdyce?" the judge asked.

"I mean…" I hadn't meant to say it out loud. "I'm sorry. I mean… I'll help." I told them two addresses that Magneto was likely to be found, and felt like I was saving my own skin. I couldn't say them without hanging my head.

"Thank you, Mr. Allerdyce, for your cooperation. You will not be serving prison time. You will be rehabilitated under the guardianship of the staff of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, where you are to serve five years of house arrest. You will be eligible for parole after three. Like most prisoners of house arrest, you will be given a sensor to wear for the entire duration. This will not be removable and will let the appropriate authorities know if you move away from the campus grounds. Regarding your mutation, since it is unreasonable to keep all sources of fire away from you in a household, you will be permitted to use your powers at will. Any criminal action at all, however small, especially involving use of mutant powers, is enough to send you to prison." The judge finished and banged her gavel, and people began to stand up, but I remained seated.

That's it? I vaguely realized that the fire I caused in the Worthington clinic had killed people. That made me a murderer. They were letting me go without prison. My mind was suddenly going all over the place after feeling so dull during the actual court session. I tugged at my shirt collar, not used to wearing a tie, and looked across the room. Hank McCoy gave me a weak, brief smile and I knew that it must have been partly due to his connections with the Department of Mutant Affairs.

For the second time since I arrived back in New York, I let my head fall into my hands and stayed like that until Wolverine took my shoulder again, more gently this time, and looked at me. "People like us, we don't get too many second chances. Don't blow it." I wondered if he wanted to remind me that Storm was putting a lot on the line for me, but he didn't. Instead, he just said, "Come on, this tie's gettin' on my last nerve." He clenched a fist like he always does before those claws come slicing out.