After much arguing, the group of people finally decided to watch a different movie. Scott had been the only who really wanted to watch Die Hard, much to his own dismay. Jean-Paul didn't know what they had settled on, only that it was still an action movie. One that Storm had claimed was her favourite and it was with that fact that Hank had also agreed to watch it. Being an action movie, Scott reluctantly agreed to play that with the okay from both Kurt and Angel who had no idea what the movie was. Jean shrugged, saying she hadn't care what they watched and Piotr said he was fine with anything. Jean-Paul had been pouring himself a drink when they asked him if he was okay with it and he agreed, saying he didn't mind watching it, since he had never seen it before.

He was slugging back his third or fourth drink, feeling the affects of the alcohol taking its course. He felt more loose, more comfortable. He also felt like he was going to explode if he didn't go piss soon. He excused himself, wheeling himself down the hall to go find a bathroom. After relieving himself, (getting on the toilet to do so had been much harder than he expected due to his inebriation) he got distracted staring at a painting in the hallway. He was lost in thought, and had he been anymore drunk, might not have noticed Jean's mind inside of his own. He quickly slammed up defenses and spun his chair around to face her, anger evident on his face. "What the hell, Jean! I didn't give you permission to dig around in my head!" Her own face matched his level of anger.

"I shouldn't need permission from you, Jean-Paul, I brought you back to life. I think the least I deserve is to see why you've been so closed off this evening!"

"Just because you brought me back to life does not mean you own me, Jean. So I'd really appreciate it if you stayed the hell out of my head without my permission."

Jean scowled and he saw that a portion of the woman he was arguing with wasn't just Jean. "You're acting really weird, Jean-Paul. I just want to know what's going on," she said, her eyes and voice softening.

Jean-Paul sighed. "A lot, Jean. There's a lot going on. A portion of it is that I'm stuck in this wheelchair. The other part is that Piotr is stuck in his metal form. I love him, I really, really do. I just miss the physical intimacy, okay? I miss hugging and laying together and kissing and fucking. I miss all of it. We can hug, we can lay together, I can kiss him, but it's like he's not there. He's constantly careful with me, because he doesn't want to hurt me. And maybe I want to be hurt, Jean. Maybe I want him to fucking crush me. I don't know! There, happy? I told you what the hell is going on in my head right now. Now leave me the fuck alone. Go watch the movie."

Jean's eyes were wide with surprise and her hand was hovering over her mouth. She looked down the hall to where Piotr was standing, a shocked expression on his face as well. Jean-Paul felt sickness in his stomach and wheeled past both of them and back into the room where everyone else was so into the movie or each other that they didn't notice the weird air between Piotr, Jean, and Jean-Paul.

Piotr sat on the couch next to where Jean-Paul's chair was and reached over for his hand. Jean-Paul thought about wrenching it away, but he didn't really want to hurt Piotr's feelings. He hadn't meant to say all of that to Jean and he really hadn't meant for Piotr to hear it. "I'm sorry," he said under his breath. There was a slight squeeze to his hand.

"Jean-Paul, I would never hurt you. Don't be sorry. This is a rough patch for us, but we'll get through it."

Jean-Paul looked back at the movie where someone was on fire. Their skin was charring and hair shriveling up. Jean-Paul suddenly wished it was him on the screen. The fire licking at his skin. He wondered what it would feel like to be in the center of that. He wanted his skin to shrink and char like that. He wanted his eyeballs to dry up and bleed and his teeth to start falling out as his gums dissolved into ash. His heart was pounding as he thought about how great of a way to die that would be. To go up in flames.

He felt a flicker of worry from Jean and realised she had been listening in on his thoughts.

Suddenly, he replaced himself in that image with Jean and sent a scathing thought toward her. Fuck. Off.

She visibly flinched and Jean-Paul almost felt bad. But she had to learn to stay out of his head. Just because she revived him didn't give her any right to intrude on his privacy. His head was his head. No one else's. He turned back to the television to find that the person who had been on fire was now nothing more than a pile of smoking ash, a few weak flames still licked at the ground where they had been.

Later that night, Piotr was sitting on their couch, an expression of deep thought on his face. Jean-Paul still felt bad that Piotr had heard his little tantrum to Jean. He wheeled up to him and put his hand on the other's knee. He knew Piotr couldn't feel it, but he could see it. The other looked up at him and there were wet streaks down his face but no other evidence that Piotr had been crying at all. "I'm sorry, Piotr. I hadn't meant for you to hear that." Jean-Paul hoped his apology sounded sincere. Because he really hadn't meant for Piotr to stumble in on their conversation. He hadn't even meant to say it, but it happened.

"I didn't know that sex was that important to you. I'm sorry."

"No! Goddammit, Piotr! Don't be sorry!" His hand came down on the coffee table as a fist and felt waves of pain go up his arm and he swore under his breath. "I said something horrible. Sex isn't that important to me! Sure, I miss it, but it's not like it's the most important part of our relationship!"

"No, you're right about that. But it was still a part of it. And you're right. We can't kiss unless you want to kiss… something like a fridge." Jean-Paul's eyes widened. Had he said that out loud? When? "When we lay together, I'm always careful to make sure I don't hurt you and maybe sometimes I'm being too careful. I'm scared I'm going to hurt you Jean-Paul. I don't want to hurt you. Ever."

"Oh, Piotr, you're not going to hurt me. That was a horrible thing for me to say. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said something like that. I was just so mad at Jean. I wanted her to stay out of my head. Some things aren't meant to be said and that was one of them. It was a wretched thing for me to say. This whole day has been horrible. I'm sorry."

Piotr gently grabbed the hand that Jean-Paul was absent-mindedly nursing. "Did you hurt yourself when you hit the coffee table?"

Jean-Paul's shoulders slumped. "No, if anything, it'll just bruise." He hated that Piotr had changed the subject, because he really was sorry. But at the same time he was grateful. It was exhausting to just talk about it. Piotr stood up and picked Jean-Paul up. The sound that left Jean-Paul was unexpected to say the least- by both of them. They laughed lightly and it felt good to actually laugh. Jean-Paul leaned his head against Piotr's arm, exhaustion washing over him like waves on a beach.

"Come on, lyubimaya, let's go get some rest." Jean-Paul hummed in agreement, sleep already taking over. It wasn't until the dark hours of the morning that he would realise they ever made it to the bedroom. It was a sound in the house that had woken him up. How it had heard it over Piotr's snoring, he didn't know. But then he heard voices.

"Dammit, Wanda. Could you be any more careless," came a hissed voice, right outside their door.

"I'm sorry Pietro. Next time, why don't you tell me there's going to be a goddamned wheelchair right outside the door," the woman's response was harsh and scalding. He wouldn't want to be the person those words were directed towards. Jean-Paul's heart was thudding in his ears and suddenly the door was open and Piotr was springing out of the bed, lights turning on. After a second of adjusting, Jean-Paul realised that the intruders were Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch. Quicksilver turned to Jean-Paul, winked, and then ran. He snatched Jean-Paul up out of the bed and was out the door, grabbing the woman's arm as they went.

"We need more room for this," Quicksilver said over the wind to Jean-Paul. "So we're going to lead hunk-a-licious here to the park." Quicksilver stopped right down the street from the apartments. Piotr didn't waste a second. He threw himself off the balcony, head turning to look for them and, when he found Quicksilver, he began to run straight for them. He was almost within arms reach when Quicksilver laughed, sprinting down a few more blocks and yelling to Piotr. "COME ON, COLOSSUS. DON'T YOU WANT YOUR BOYFRIEND BACK?"

Jean-Paul heard an angry yell from Piotr and felt guilt sink into his gut. Piotr had no idea that Jean-Paul was in no harm and wouldn't be. "Wanda, you did grab Jean-Paul's phone from the coffee table like I said, right? That was your phone, Jean-Paul, right?" With gritted teeth Jean-Paul nodded while Wanda gave her brother an exasperated yes.

The chase went on for a little while until they made it to the park, where Quicksilver gently sat Jean-Paul down, patting him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Jean-Paul, this'll be over fairly soon. Here's you phone." He tossed Jean-Paul his phone than ran off with Wanda to hide.

Piotr caught up, breath wild and ragged. "Jean-Paul!" He stopped short, narrowing his eyes. "You are Jean-Paul, right? Not that shapeshifter."

"Yes," Jean-Paul said.

"Prove it."

With a deep sigh, Jean-Paul looked down at his phone. "Earlier we were watching movies with our friends and I told Jean I wished you'd hurt me. When we got home, I punched the coffee table and bruised my fist." Piotr dropped down to his knees and pulled Jean-Paul into a hug, a sigh- broken almost by a sob- escaped Piotr. He stood back up and looked around.

"Where are they?"

"Right here, my big friend," Quicksilver taunted as he began to run circles around Piotr.

"A simple reaction, easy enough to change back," Wanda mumbled as her hands began to glow red and so did Piotr. "Sound familiar, Colossus?"

Piotr froze, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. "No! Please, don't do this! I'll die!"

"Unfortunately, on our part, you won't. We're doing someone a favour. If you die, we lose someone very important to our cause. Stand still and this will be over soon enough." Wanda continued to focus on Piotr. Jean-Paul watched as the metal on Piotr's body slowly began to disappear and show skin. His heart was thudding and he hoped that Piotr's was, too. And that it would stay beating.

What felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, passed and then the red light of Wanda's powers died out and Quicksilver was standing next to Jean-Paul. Piotr stood still for a moment, eyes wide and looking at the flesh on the back of his hand.

He turned to Jean-Paul and went to speak, but Quicksilver interrupted. "We must be off. Bye!"

Suddenly it was just Piotr and Jean-Paul in the park. And then Piotr collapsed. Jean-Paul screamed, pulling himself over to Piotr as quickly as he could without the use of his legs. Piotr was on his back, blue eyes staring blankly up into the sky. "Piotr! PIOTR! PIOTR!" He was shaking him, tears falling from his eyes. He swore loudly and put his ear to Piotr's chest. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. A sigh of relief escaped Jean-Paul. Lub dub. Lub. Dub. Lub. Dub. Lub… Dub… Lub… Dub… Lub…

Dub…

Lub…

Dub…

Lub…

Silence. Jean-Paul's eyes widened and he began to panic again. Pulling himself up, he began to attempt CPR on Piotr, tears clouding his vision and falling onto Piotr's chest. "Please, God. No. Don't do this. Please don't do this to me, oh god no." He still couldn't hear Piotr's heartbeat and he scrambled in the grass for his phone. He called Kurt, the first person he could think of.

"Hello?" Came a groggy, tired voice.

"Kurt we're in the park near our apartment please hurry, Piotr's not breathing and his heart isn't beating. I think he's dying. Please hurry, oh god, hurry please." He could hear the static of Kurt teleporting, a horrible screech coming from the phone's speakers. There was embarrassed noises on the other side of the phone.

"Ja, I don't care how naked you two are hurry and get ready. We have to go get Jean-Paul and Piotr from the park near their apartment. Jean-Paul says Piotr is not breathing or responding. I'm going to go get Piotr, it should only take a few teleports, but I don't think I can carry both of them." The voice was quiet and hard to hear, leading Jean-Paul to believe he wasn't holding the phone to his face. When Kurt spoke again it was clearer. "I'm on my vway. Did you hear that, though? I'm going to grab Piotr and bring him here to Jean. Scott and someone else will be there shortly to get you after that. Vwill you be okay on your own until then?"

Jean-Paul nodded then realised that there was no way Kurt could hear him. "Y-yes. Yes, I think I'll be okay." He laid his head back on Piotr's chest and his heart fluttered when he heard a very quiet, very weak, very slow beating of the other's heart. He felt tears leaving him again, he he just laid there in the park alone with Piotr's unresponsive body until Kurt arrived.

There was a gasp from Kurt as he kneeled next to them. "Vhat happened," he whispered, an unstable waver in his voice. "How is he like this?"

"It's my fault," Jean-Paul cried, sitting up so Kurt could grab a better hold of Piotr. "It's my fault, it's my fault. I did this- I," a felt a slap from Kurt's tail.

"Vhat happened," he repeated, stronger and more fierce this time.

Jean-Paul's lower lip quivered and he looked at Kurt with sad eyes. "His heart is beating again, but very slow and weak. Get him to Jean."

Kurt stared at Jean-Paul for a second longer before scowling and teleporting away. The smell of sulfur filled Jean-Paul's head and he laid down in the grass, hand combing the warm spot where Piotr had been laying. "Oh my god, this is fault."

Within no time at all, Scott was sitting in the grass next to Jean-Paul, hand on his back. "Jean called me. Piotr's stable. His heart's still a little weak, but it's beating on it's own. He's awake." Jean-Paul didn't move from his spot, eyes blankly staring at the spot where his hand rested. "Jean-Paul, come on, he wants to see you. And Jean has questions for you. Piotr doesn't really remember much. Storm is grabbing your wheelchair and will be here soon. If you can answer some questions ahead of time, that would be really helpful."

Still, Jean-Paul said nothing but he could tell Scott was getting frustrated. "Kurt told us you said this was your fault? Can you explain what you mean? Did you convince him to try and shift? You know how dangerous that was, right?"

"No, I never told him to shift back."

"Then how is this your fault? Jean told me you and her got in an argument and that Piotr overheard. Have you two been fighting? Is it because you guys couldn't be physically intimate? Are you blaming yourself because Piotr felt guilty or something?"

"No. It's not because of us fighting."

Scott made a noise of frustration. "Then what is is, dude? Come on, tell me! I know I'm pretty much shit when it comes to explaining how I'm feeling, but we need to know what brought this on. He's okay, Jean-Paul. We just want to understand what happened."

"Quicksilver happened," Jean-Paul breathed.