Keep Burning
Part two of the Effect Arc.
Title: Keep Burning
Pairing: kind of implied Bobby/John, is you squint and tilt your head.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: John will be all right, so long as he keeps burning.
Notes: John's POV
Keep Burning
He’s eating ice cream again.
I’ve been watching him for the last half an hour, slowly making his way through a large tub of vanilla ice cream. I’ve caught him at it loads of times before; it almost seems to be a comfort food. When he’s miserable or excited or bored or anything, he eats ice cream. Well, I suppose it does fit.
He doesn’t know that I’m even awake, I don’t think. He’s sat down on the grounds, on a bench in front of the three gravestones. He looks awkward sat there, almost like he’s not really sure what to do. I’ve never been very good with funerals myself. I want to go and talk to him, but he seems to be having a moment with the graves, so I’m settling with just watching out of the rather ornate window.
When I woke up, true to his word Bobby had frozen the room. I’m not sure if he physically can’t destroy his own ice, or if he doesn’t want to, but it was still there and he’d gone. So I melted it off, and opened the door, and then had to melt a few metres either side of the room. It’s weird that I didn’t feel it at all during the night. Usually, I’m really sensitive to cold temperatures. That’s what you get for being fire-based.
Classes start in ten minutes. I don’t really want to go, because I know that I’ll be given really shifty looks at best, and maybe even attacked at worst. I can’t really blame them though. I did betray them and try to kill them with blazing cars. Have to admit though, it gave me a chance to really use my power. That’s not something that I’m often allowed to do. I don’t think the adults could cope with the amount of destruction that I tended to leave behind me. I’m not sure that they wanted to, either.
I can hear people coming down the corridor, around the corner, so I quickly return to our room and shut the door. I don’t want to face the masses by myself, without my special lighter on my wrist. Looking up at the scorch marks above my bed, I’m not sure if I should take that lighter that Bobby produced last night. Storm refused to give my automatic one back last night, she said that she didn’t trust me with it, but I don’t think she would be too bothered if I had one on me, so long as I didn’t flash it around. I walk over to the drawers and take it out, pushing it into my pocket. I hope Bobby won’t be too bothered.
I dress quickly, and wash even quicker, wanting to meet Bobby before we have to go to the conservatory for History. I’d feel a lot safer if he was with me. Then again, so long as I have my lighter I shouldn’t be in too much danger. I gather my old books in my arms, and hurry to glance out of the window. He’s still sat there, the tub of ice cream lying empty and abandoned on the bench beside him. He’s turning something over and over in his hands - I can see the sunlight glinting off it - but I’m too far away to see what it is. More people are approaching, so I make my way quickly to the stairs and descend them.
There are students milling around, and one adult with wings that I don’t recognise. I hesitate a few steps from the bottom, struck by the irrational fear that every single one of them is about to turn on me. But they don’t even seem to notice me. Someone comes down the stairs from behind me, bumping me as they leap the last few steps, and jolts me out of my frozen stance. Keeping my head down, I march through the crowds and through the main doors, breaking into a jog as I get closer to Bobby. It’s then that I realise he’s not staring at the graves, but at the pine trees behind them.
“Lessons in five minutes.” I remind him, and with a flash, the shiny thing he was playing with is in his pocket. He looks up at me, and I’m once again so glad that he hasn’t starting trying to freeze my balls off. Last night came close though, when he decided to turn our room into a freezer. He looks tired and I wonder just what his nightmares are like.
“I’m coming.” He replies simply, and I notice that his books are on the grass at his feet. I guess he wasn’t planning on coming to get me then. A spark of annoyance flares in my stomach, and I put it out as he stands and fixes me with an inscrutable look.
“What?” I ask defensively, and realise that I probably come across looking and sounding pretty suspicious. I hope that he doesn’t change his mind about me. If he does, then my only ally in this godforsaken place would be Storm, and she’s reluctantly accepting me anyway. But all he does is shrug, and this time my hand inches towards my pocket. I force it away. I don’t want him to be all secretive. I think he notices my irritation, and sighs, picking up his books.
“I was just wondering if you’re ready to go back.”
I’m aware that I’m scowling, but I can’t wipe the look off my face. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I flush, trying to hide my emotions. Damn it, how does he manage to interpret everything I do perfectly? When did he get to know me so well?
“I’ll be fine.” I retort, and I know that I sound childish, but there doesn’t seem like much point in stopping any more. He can read me like a book, so I don’t care. Just so long as he reads correctly, I’ll be fine. I always was when he was there.
We set off walking back to the school, in complete silence. I can feel that we both want to talk, but I know that whatever we talk about will ultimately lead back to my betrayal. And I don’t want him to think about that, because then he’ll abandon me. I just want to keep this truce until I’m not hated by everyone else in this school, and then I can talk to him, because then he might understand better and even if he doesn’t, it wont be the end of the world. Or so I keep telling myself.
This time, as I walk into the corridor, everyone notices me. Well, I think it’s more that they greet Bobby and then see the traitor walking nervously beside him. Listening to the calls around me, it sounds as though they really respect Bobby. Probably for Alcatraz. After all, six of them managed to defeat our whole army.
No. It’s not our army anymore. It was his. And now it’s gone.
“Who the hell let the traitor back in?” I hear someone hiss, and involuntarily move closer to Bobby as he greets people. I can hear others whispering the same sort of thing, and my vision starts to tunnel in. Their voices and accusations are pressing in on me, enclosing me, and as someone brushes past me, I snap. With a speed that I didn’t know I possessed, my books are dropped on the floor, my hand is in my pocket, my fingers have flicked the lighter open and there’s a fireball roiling in my hand. The people scream and move away, clutching each other, expecting a violent outburst from the traitor. I find myself backed up against the wall of the corridor, breathing rapidly, boiling hot sweat running down my face and vaporising as it runs over my scorching skin and my eyes flicking backwards and forwards so fast that I’m getting a headache. The people around me fade to a blur, and my head goes dizzy as my legs try to buckle and I recognise a panic attack encroaching.
Then suddenly all the burning in my mind is gone, replaced by a cooling calm and my vision clears. And all I can see is Bobby standing in front of me, his hand clamped around my wrist, anchoring me as I gather my thoughts. My left hand goes slack and the lighter drops to the floor with an ominous clunk.
“John?”
I turn to the source of the voice, and see Rogue staring at me, aghast. She moves towards me, hand reaching out, and I instinctively flinch away. Or I would have done, if Bobby hadn’t been standing there. As it is, I just bump into him. Then I flinch away from him, too. His body is so cold… it’s like he’s a walking icicle. I mean, I know that his normal temperature is way below normal, and mine is way above normal, due to our mutations, but I’d never actually experienced it before. Wait, that’s a lie. I experienced it on Alcatraz where Bobby turned completely to ice and knocked me out.
God, it was so cold.
So cold, and now it’s getting cold and hot at the same time and hell it hurt so much when Rogue touched me, that was cold too, all the fire, all my life and spirit and soul being sucked out of me until I’d been sucked dry and freezing and then -
“John!”
My eyes flash open, and Bobby’s kneeling beside me on the floor, and I can feel the stares of everyone around me burning into me but for some reason I don’t care, I couldn’t give a shit, because so long as I’m burning I’ll be all right. Bobby reaches out and takes my arm, pulling me to my feet, and his hand’s so cold against my bare skin that it burns and that’s OK. Rogue’s looking at me like I’m some sort of horrific creature that’s surfaced from her deepest nightmares. I can hear Bobby telling me not to worry, she’s human, and she can’t hurt me. I realise that I’m sneering at her just a bit too late to straighten my face.
Why anyone would want to be stripped of their powers is a mystery to me. I should have known, though. When I saw Bobby outside the Cure clinic, I didn’t honestly think that he wanted it for himself, no matter what I said to him. But I said those things because that was how it was meant to be. I had betrayed him, and we couldn’t be civil to each other. I was loyal to Magneto, and not to him, and yet when I could have attacked him I didn’t. Something about him always holds me back, always makes me reconsider and in that split second when I look into those eyes that are too blue not to be unnerving, the world always comes crashing down about me. He seems to have that effect on me.
I can hear the murmuring of the crowd, and I’m sure that the sounds are actually much louder than they seem to be, but the only thing I can hear clearly is Bobby’s voice telling me in a gentle voice to calm down as he leads me through the corridor to the conservatory. I’m not watching where I’m going, but somehow I’m not falling over, just staring straight ahead as we walk into the glass-roofed room. He sits me down at a desk, and then seats himself next to me. He must have picked up my books and lighter from the floor of the corridor when I collapsed, because he pushes them toward me. I pocket the lighter and shake my head. It’s clearing, thank god, and I do feel calmer.
Storm’s standing in front of the blackboard, though I’m not sure when she appeared. She’s glaring at me, and I guess that she must have seen my little episode out in the corridor. Which probably just confirmed her previous beliefs that I’m unstable and unsafe around others. I look away, look up out of the conservatory roof as she starts to talk about World Wars. Looking up towards the kaleidoscope of colours twisting and contorting the sky, I don’t feel as vulnerable anymore. Even though the whispers and stares from the people sitting around us aren’t burning anymore, even though they’re cold and detached and making me feel uncomfortable, Bobby’s hand is still wrapped around my wrist and it’s still burning.
And I’m all right.
Comments much appreciated.
Title: Keep Burning
Pairing: kind of implied Bobby/John, is you squint and tilt your head.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: John will be all right, so long as he keeps burning.
Notes: John's POV
Keep Burning
He’s eating ice cream again.
I’ve been watching him for the last half an hour, slowly making his way through a large tub of vanilla ice cream. I’ve caught him at it loads of times before; it almost seems to be a comfort food. When he’s miserable or excited or bored or anything, he eats ice cream. Well, I suppose it does fit.
He doesn’t know that I’m even awake, I don’t think. He’s sat down on the grounds, on a bench in front of the three gravestones. He looks awkward sat there, almost like he’s not really sure what to do. I’ve never been very good with funerals myself. I want to go and talk to him, but he seems to be having a moment with the graves, so I’m settling with just watching out of the rather ornate window.
When I woke up, true to his word Bobby had frozen the room. I’m not sure if he physically can’t destroy his own ice, or if he doesn’t want to, but it was still there and he’d gone. So I melted it off, and opened the door, and then had to melt a few metres either side of the room. It’s weird that I didn’t feel it at all during the night. Usually, I’m really sensitive to cold temperatures. That’s what you get for being fire-based.
Classes start in ten minutes. I don’t really want to go, because I know that I’ll be given really shifty looks at best, and maybe even attacked at worst. I can’t really blame them though. I did betray them and try to kill them with blazing cars. Have to admit though, it gave me a chance to really use my power. That’s not something that I’m often allowed to do. I don’t think the adults could cope with the amount of destruction that I tended to leave behind me. I’m not sure that they wanted to, either.
I can hear people coming down the corridor, around the corner, so I quickly return to our room and shut the door. I don’t want to face the masses by myself, without my special lighter on my wrist. Looking up at the scorch marks above my bed, I’m not sure if I should take that lighter that Bobby produced last night. Storm refused to give my automatic one back last night, she said that she didn’t trust me with it, but I don’t think she would be too bothered if I had one on me, so long as I didn’t flash it around. I walk over to the drawers and take it out, pushing it into my pocket. I hope Bobby won’t be too bothered.
I dress quickly, and wash even quicker, wanting to meet Bobby before we have to go to the conservatory for History. I’d feel a lot safer if he was with me. Then again, so long as I have my lighter I shouldn’t be in too much danger. I gather my old books in my arms, and hurry to glance out of the window. He’s still sat there, the tub of ice cream lying empty and abandoned on the bench beside him. He’s turning something over and over in his hands - I can see the sunlight glinting off it - but I’m too far away to see what it is. More people are approaching, so I make my way quickly to the stairs and descend them.
There are students milling around, and one adult with wings that I don’t recognise. I hesitate a few steps from the bottom, struck by the irrational fear that every single one of them is about to turn on me. But they don’t even seem to notice me. Someone comes down the stairs from behind me, bumping me as they leap the last few steps, and jolts me out of my frozen stance. Keeping my head down, I march through the crowds and through the main doors, breaking into a jog as I get closer to Bobby. It’s then that I realise he’s not staring at the graves, but at the pine trees behind them.
“Lessons in five minutes.” I remind him, and with a flash, the shiny thing he was playing with is in his pocket. He looks up at me, and I’m once again so glad that he hasn’t starting trying to freeze my balls off. Last night came close though, when he decided to turn our room into a freezer. He looks tired and I wonder just what his nightmares are like.
“I’m coming.” He replies simply, and I notice that his books are on the grass at his feet. I guess he wasn’t planning on coming to get me then. A spark of annoyance flares in my stomach, and I put it out as he stands and fixes me with an inscrutable look.
“What?” I ask defensively, and realise that I probably come across looking and sounding pretty suspicious. I hope that he doesn’t change his mind about me. If he does, then my only ally in this godforsaken place would be Storm, and she’s reluctantly accepting me anyway. But all he does is shrug, and this time my hand inches towards my pocket. I force it away. I don’t want him to be all secretive. I think he notices my irritation, and sighs, picking up his books.
“I was just wondering if you’re ready to go back.”
I’m aware that I’m scowling, but I can’t wipe the look off my face. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I flush, trying to hide my emotions. Damn it, how does he manage to interpret everything I do perfectly? When did he get to know me so well?
“I’ll be fine.” I retort, and I know that I sound childish, but there doesn’t seem like much point in stopping any more. He can read me like a book, so I don’t care. Just so long as he reads correctly, I’ll be fine. I always was when he was there.
We set off walking back to the school, in complete silence. I can feel that we both want to talk, but I know that whatever we talk about will ultimately lead back to my betrayal. And I don’t want him to think about that, because then he’ll abandon me. I just want to keep this truce until I’m not hated by everyone else in this school, and then I can talk to him, because then he might understand better and even if he doesn’t, it wont be the end of the world. Or so I keep telling myself.
This time, as I walk into the corridor, everyone notices me. Well, I think it’s more that they greet Bobby and then see the traitor walking nervously beside him. Listening to the calls around me, it sounds as though they really respect Bobby. Probably for Alcatraz. After all, six of them managed to defeat our whole army.
No. It’s not our army anymore. It was his. And now it’s gone.
“Who the hell let the traitor back in?” I hear someone hiss, and involuntarily move closer to Bobby as he greets people. I can hear others whispering the same sort of thing, and my vision starts to tunnel in. Their voices and accusations are pressing in on me, enclosing me, and as someone brushes past me, I snap. With a speed that I didn’t know I possessed, my books are dropped on the floor, my hand is in my pocket, my fingers have flicked the lighter open and there’s a fireball roiling in my hand. The people scream and move away, clutching each other, expecting a violent outburst from the traitor. I find myself backed up against the wall of the corridor, breathing rapidly, boiling hot sweat running down my face and vaporising as it runs over my scorching skin and my eyes flicking backwards and forwards so fast that I’m getting a headache. The people around me fade to a blur, and my head goes dizzy as my legs try to buckle and I recognise a panic attack encroaching.
Then suddenly all the burning in my mind is gone, replaced by a cooling calm and my vision clears. And all I can see is Bobby standing in front of me, his hand clamped around my wrist, anchoring me as I gather my thoughts. My left hand goes slack and the lighter drops to the floor with an ominous clunk.
“John?”
I turn to the source of the voice, and see Rogue staring at me, aghast. She moves towards me, hand reaching out, and I instinctively flinch away. Or I would have done, if Bobby hadn’t been standing there. As it is, I just bump into him. Then I flinch away from him, too. His body is so cold… it’s like he’s a walking icicle. I mean, I know that his normal temperature is way below normal, and mine is way above normal, due to our mutations, but I’d never actually experienced it before. Wait, that’s a lie. I experienced it on Alcatraz where Bobby turned completely to ice and knocked me out.
God, it was so cold.
So cold, and now it’s getting cold and hot at the same time and hell it hurt so much when Rogue touched me, that was cold too, all the fire, all my life and spirit and soul being sucked out of me until I’d been sucked dry and freezing and then -
“John!”
My eyes flash open, and Bobby’s kneeling beside me on the floor, and I can feel the stares of everyone around me burning into me but for some reason I don’t care, I couldn’t give a shit, because so long as I’m burning I’ll be all right. Bobby reaches out and takes my arm, pulling me to my feet, and his hand’s so cold against my bare skin that it burns and that’s OK. Rogue’s looking at me like I’m some sort of horrific creature that’s surfaced from her deepest nightmares. I can hear Bobby telling me not to worry, she’s human, and she can’t hurt me. I realise that I’m sneering at her just a bit too late to straighten my face.
Why anyone would want to be stripped of their powers is a mystery to me. I should have known, though. When I saw Bobby outside the Cure clinic, I didn’t honestly think that he wanted it for himself, no matter what I said to him. But I said those things because that was how it was meant to be. I had betrayed him, and we couldn’t be civil to each other. I was loyal to Magneto, and not to him, and yet when I could have attacked him I didn’t. Something about him always holds me back, always makes me reconsider and in that split second when I look into those eyes that are too blue not to be unnerving, the world always comes crashing down about me. He seems to have that effect on me.
I can hear the murmuring of the crowd, and I’m sure that the sounds are actually much louder than they seem to be, but the only thing I can hear clearly is Bobby’s voice telling me in a gentle voice to calm down as he leads me through the corridor to the conservatory. I’m not watching where I’m going, but somehow I’m not falling over, just staring straight ahead as we walk into the glass-roofed room. He sits me down at a desk, and then seats himself next to me. He must have picked up my books and lighter from the floor of the corridor when I collapsed, because he pushes them toward me. I pocket the lighter and shake my head. It’s clearing, thank god, and I do feel calmer.
Storm’s standing in front of the blackboard, though I’m not sure when she appeared. She’s glaring at me, and I guess that she must have seen my little episode out in the corridor. Which probably just confirmed her previous beliefs that I’m unstable and unsafe around others. I look away, look up out of the conservatory roof as she starts to talk about World Wars. Looking up towards the kaleidoscope of colours twisting and contorting the sky, I don’t feel as vulnerable anymore. Even though the whispers and stares from the people sitting around us aren’t burning anymore, even though they’re cold and detached and making me feel uncomfortable, Bobby’s hand is still wrapped around my wrist and it’s still burning.
And I’m all right.
Comments much appreciated.