A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! Lets continue…shall we?

What the Hell?

Ch. 9

Survival of the Fittest

And then there was silence.

John regretted what he said to her, but he wasn't going to apologize either. She didn't understand. The one and only one thing that made him special was taken away without his permission.

Ten extremely long silent minutes felt like hours to him as the Professor finally entered the room.

"John, would you like Rogue to leave the room?" Xavier asked.

"She can stay."

"I need you to tell me what occurred before you passed out. What do you remember? Know?"

John repeated to the Professor what he told Rogue earlier.

"I'll need to run some tests first and then we will take it from there. The results won't be available for two hours."

John frowned at the sight of more needles. He was quiet during the procedures trying hard not to think of the hell he'd been through.

"Are you okay?" Rogue asked but he didn't hear her. Memories came rushing back and that's when he gave in. "I can't do this!" John yelled, hastily exiting the bed and stormed out of the room.

"In time, he will be fine, Rogue. Just give him some space. We will figure this out."

"I'm just really worried about him."

John made it to his room unnoticed. He sat on the side of his bed, bent elbows placed on his legs, and his face buried in his hands. Eventually, he lowered his hands to look over at the mirror. He got to his feet, walked over to it, and didn't like what he saw—a 'John Doe'.

Becoming disgusted with his reflection, he abruptly turned away. He stopped in the middle of the room, reached into his pocket, taking out his shark lighter. With his back still facing the mirror, he glanced at the Zippo in his palm, gripped it tight, turned around, pulled his arm back, and threw it as hard as he could at the mirror. The mirror shattered into many pieces. John hurried to the door and locked it, knowing nosy mutants would come barging in without knocking.

He was right. In less than three minutes the knob was tried first, then came the knocking. "Are you alright?"

"Go away," John said as calm as can be.

"Are you sure?"

"Go away," he repeated using the same tone.

Finally, Jamie got the hint and left.

John picked up a piece of glass. He wanted to cut himself… to see if he could still feel. He placed the sharpest tip on his forearm. He stared at the glass, at his arm, but he couldn't pierce the skin. He shook his head and dropped the glass from his grip. "What the hell am I doing?"

John left the room with his lighter on the floor in the middle of the glass where it landed.

He practically ran to get out of the mansion. It felt good to be outside, the slight breeze running through his hair, the warmth from the sun on his skin, and the clear sky as blue as the ocean. It was so peaceful and quiet until John heard something fall out of the tree to his right. John walked over to the tall tree and saw a baby robin in the grass. He knew it was a robin because its belly had patches of red. He stood over it, crossed his arms, and said, "I can't just leave you there… Rogue would kill me." He crouched down and scooped up the robin. For the first time since he found out that he couldn't manipulate fire, the tiny bird actually made John smile. "I guess you were trying to fly," he said to the robin. "And as we both know… you didn't do very well."

He took a seat at a nearby bench with the robin in his palm. "You look a little scrawny. Your brothers and sisters didn't want to share, huh?" He paused a moment before adding, "Neither did mine."

John grabbed an earthworm before it dug into the ground and held it up near the robin. "You look old enough to eat this on your own. Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm not regurgitating this!"

The robin opened its mouth and John lowered the worm into its mouth. In a flash, the worm was gone and the robin's mouth was open once again. John shrugged. "I don't have anymore." Then it closed its mouth. "What should I name you? I could call you Robin, but that's not very original. How about…Rob?" John laughed. "I'm not very good at this." The bird just stared at him. "I'll just call you Robin then. Since I'm not sure if you're a female or male so … Robin it is. However, the real question is… what am I going to do with you?"

The young bird yawned and shut its eyes. "I'll figure that out later, I guess." he said softly. John peacefully sat outside with the robin sleeping in his palm.

30 minutes later…

'John, I need to speak to you. Please meet me in my office.'

He completely forgot about his dilemma… until now. John sauntered into the mansion with Robin in his hand. Once he reached The Professor's office he knocked and let himself in.

"Have a seat," Professor Xavier said.

"No, thanks. I prefer to stand."

"Who is your new friend?"

John sighed. He didn't have the patience for small talk especially since he knew why Xavier wanted to speak to him. "Robin. It fell out of a tree." He shifted his weight. "Didn't you say you wanted to tell me something?"

"I went over the results and the only person that can undo what was done is Erik. Either that or we'll have to get his files. John, we will resolve this. The X-Men and I need time to figure out where Erik is and how to go about this stealthily."

John wasn't surprised. He knew it would take more than some simple tests to either find out what Magneto did or fix it. John showed no emotion nor replied as he handed Professor X the robin and took off.

When John entered his room Rogue was sitting on his bed with the lighter in her hand looking at him and then the glass.

"It slipped," he replied dully as he took the Zippo from her. John grabbed his brown leather jacket from the chair it was hanging over and slipped it on. "Well, it looks like I won't be needing this anymore," he said, dropping the lighter in the garbage can before exiting the bedroom.

A/N: Happy Birthday 'What the Hell?'! (lol that sounds funny.) Please review, thanks! Btw, if you're wondering why I had John find a baby bird… well his dream did involve a bird so I figured… why not? However, Robin will not be bursting into flames like the bird in his dream. I'm not that evil (and I l-o-v-e birds).