Fic: Nightmares and Death
John knew where he was before he opened his eyes. He could feel the fear, running through his veins like gasoline, pushing the fire hotter, farther, faster. Felt the fireballs rush out of him, had to open his eyes just to see him. Standing there in his stupid leather, with the stupid look of hurt on his face, as if John didn’t feel it too. As if John wasn’t trying to control the fire, to make sure it wouldn’t hurt him. Maybe if he iced up all the way, hid Bobby away, he could have fried the bastard. He felt his heart pound as he smirked, praying Bobby would think of something, find a way to win or hide, forced the snide words from his mouth, putting on a show for the rest of the Brotherhood. But Bobby didn’t ice up, didn’t run. John watched in slow motion as he fell to one knee. This wasn’t going to work. He had to do something. He couldn’t kill Bobby. He dragged in a ragged breath, pushing down the pain, hurt, triumph, fear raging through him. And flipped his wrists, exposing the lighters that fueled his flames, praying the Bobby would understand. Then the blissful cold raced through him, promising Bobby would live another day.
John woke up in a cold sweat, and wiped his eyes. He grabbed the lighter that sat on his nightstand and flicked, letting the fire burn the nightmare away. The same one, getting more and more frequent. He ran the fire along his arms, his face, drying away the evidence of his fear. He felt the body next to him shift away from the cleansing heat. John shook his head, trying not see the rough blue skin beside him.
It had begun when he first joined the Brotherhood. Every night, a different girl opened his door. At first he thought they were other group members, then that they were a test brought in by Magneto. Then, the bodies of X-Men came to offer themselves - Rogue, Kitty, Storm, Jean. That was when he figured it out. Every night, he said no, and slammed the door. Eventually, it was men. Ones he knew, ones he had never met. It was disgusting. She never even tried in her own skin. Every day, he refused.
Until the day at the clinic. He saw Bobby, saw the fear in his eyes when he recognized John, the glance towards the door. Not fear for himself, not fear of what John had become. Fear for her. Memories crashed down on the fire mutant - every look Bobby had given Rogue, every touch, that kiss in his parent’s house. The looks of disgust he directed at his best friend in public. The smirk, the clever words, they came easily. Preventing the hurt from showing in his eyes, restraining himself from grabbing Bobby and forcing him to see, that had been a test. He had been so caught up in his private struggles, he had almost missed the look of pain Bobby shot the skunk-haired girl at the head of the line. Almost hadn’t seen how the brown haired boy tensed, wanting to run to her. John wanted to burn the bitch right then. He let the flame fly to his hand, readied himself to throw. But then his look would come back, the pain in his blue eyes, the way his mouth opened slightly, and it would be his fault.
John loosed his flames on the clinic, giving the Iceman and his girl one more chance to find a way to be the happy superfreak couple, and said nothing when Magneto raged about his reckless actions on an information gathering mission.
That night, John had been at his desk, clutching the chair, when the door opened. “If Bobby Drake is standing there when I turn around, and I wake up alone tomorrow, I won’t ask any questions,” he said, seemingly to the wall. He barely jumped when a cold, white hand came from behind and rested on his hip. He turned to find the not-Bobby, with his soft brown hair and clear blue eyes looking up at him with surprise and understanding. John felt something in him scream and break, and something else fall into place, as he fisted his hand in the soft-brown hair that felt just like the real Bobby and let himself fall into a world of tongues and teeth and chilled white skin.
That was their unspoken agreement now. John got to spend his nights entangled with the not-Bobby, and fall asleep in his arms. In exchange, he stayed with an organization that had already taught him all it deemed necessary, which offered him no more safety than he could provide himself, helping a woman help the man she loved in secret.
John shuddered and got out of bed to shower, knowing the movement would wake her and send her away. He turned on the hot water all the way, and grabbed a bar of hotel soap. A whole year since she had rescued his unconscious body from Alcatraz, after Magneto had been shot. A whole year they had been touring the country, rebuilding their group while its master recovered, never staying in one place, never showing off their powers. It made John’s blood boil, but he did nothing but step into the steaming water. Today was going to be hard enough without a fight.
Robert Drake, Iceman, was already exhausted. Classes had been cancelled for the private holiday, so he had spent the day in the danger room, and then quickly showered and attended the memorial service for Jean. He wondered if they would have it every year, or if it was just to mark that they had all somehow survived a whole year. He wondered if he was so tired he was hearing things. Because he was very sure he hadn’t left music on in his room.
By the time Bobby reached his room, he had determined two things: The music was most definitely coming from his room, and he had most definitely not left it playing. He stopped outside the door and took a deep breath. He had talked with Kitty and Jubilee about touching his music, and especially the CD player in the corner. John’s CD player. It still had the music they had been listening to, the day John had left. His favorite CD. Bobby had wondered from time to time if he missed it, if there was a way to get it to him. But those were in the category of Forbidden Thoughts, along with all his memories of him and the fire mutant, and facts like some nights, when he couldn’t sleep, he turned on that CD player, real low, and let it fill his thoughts. Or that some mornings, when he woke after dreaming about his best friend, he would sneak over to the closet where all John’s clothes still lay, and curl up with one, smelling it and crying. Or that he had killed his best friend.
Bobby let his hand rest on the doorknob, thinking of what he would say to whoever had transgressed. Finally, he turned the knob, “I know I’ve asked-“
“What?” asked John with a smile, leaning up against the wall. He watched as Bobby’s jaw dropped and he kicked the door shut.
“You can’t be here.”
John frowned. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go, although he supposed it was better than being frozen on the spot. Not that he didn’t have a flame going behind his back. “It’s my room too.”
Bobby took a step forward, and rested an arm on his desk for support. “No, it’s not. You left.”
“My things are still here.”
“You left them here.”
John shook his head. It was that kind of imbecilic logic that had convinced him to leave in the first place. A place for everything and everything in its place. “You were staying here.”
Bobby’s mind raced, trying to find what on earth that had to do with anything. It didn’t help when John strolled across the room, all cool nonchalance, until he was so close Bobby could feel his breath on his lips. “Are you staying?” he whispered before he could stop himself. That was one of the Forbidden Thoughts.
“You know I can’t.” John breathed in the scent, cherished the chill that came whenever Bobby was upset or nervous or angry. It was something the not-Bobby simply couldn’t get right.
“But-“ Bobby knew it was true. John was a felon, a criminal, and he hated the school anyway. They had fought, they were enemies-
John reached out and grasped the back of his friend’s neck before he even realized he had done it. It was automatic now, a reflex. He saw how Bobby’s thoughts simply stopped, remembered the first time he had done that. “No.” He let himself move a little closer, let him lips wander over the ice mutant’s jaw. “Just had to come back,” he kissed up to his face, letting his teeth graze that spot behind Bobby’s ear, “one last time.” He smiled as the room cooled again, and the tension drained out of the boy in front of him.
“Please,” Bobby felt himself wrap one arm around John’s waist as the other ran through the boy’s hair. It was as though muscle memory was taking over, all the Forbidden Thoughts breaking out and locking all conscious thoughts away.
John ran his tongue over the ice mutant’s cold lips, not letting him finish his sentence. He let his hands wander, tracing designs no one would ever see over his lover’s skin, let Bobby pull him towards the bed. He pushed the brown-haired boy onto the soft comforter. If heaven’s half this wonderful, John thought, I wish I had died a year ago. But the thought jolted him. Heaven was too good for him. That wasn’t why he was here. He kissed his way back up to Bobby’s ear and whispered, slowly, “Do you have an idea how easy it would be for me to kill you right now?” He felt the boy below him tense, knew his eyes would be clouded with confusion.
“Do you think I care?” Bobby’s voice quivered, but the resolve underneath was strong. John bit back tears. That was the response he had been afraid of.
“I care,” he spat as he pushed himself off up the bed. He braced himself as he looked into the hurt in Bobby’s eyes, but couldn’t stop feeling like someone was pulling his stomach out of his body.
“What’s wrong with you?” Bobby stood up and moved toward John, who took a step back.
John sighed and pulled the gun from his pocket and threw it to Bobby, who caught it immediately. “That’s a cure gun, fully loaded. You ever see me again, and I mean it, ever, you shoot first and think later.”
The blue eyed mutant stared at the weapon in his hands before placing it on the bed behind him. “But what if-“
John’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No ifs. You see, you think it might be me, you find someone in here again, you shoot ‘em. Worst comes to worst, I can do without my powers for a while.”
“I can’t-“ Bobby’s hands were beginning to ice over and he closed them into fists.
“Damnit Bobby!” John barely registered the ball of flame in his hand, much less the scream. “They know you’re my weak spot! They know everything!”
“How?” He sank onto the bed, unable to process what was going on.
Because I’m sleeping with a whore in your skin. “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is you’re not safe from me anymore.”
“I was never in any danger from you!” Bobby stood there, face just inches from him, eyes daring him to say it wasn’t true.
“You’ll take the gun, and promise me to do as I’ve asked, no matter what you think in that numbed brain of yours.”
The ice mutant raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because,” said John, “if you don’t, I’ll go down this hallway until I find the one that has cute little Kitty asleep in it, and I’ll fry her as you listen to her scream.” He swallowed the vomit as the thought passed through his mind, refusing to show his weakness.
Bobby’s eyes hardened as he picked up the gun and placed it in a drawer in his desk. “I’ll have a special place made for it in my suit, okay?”
John ‘s eyes burned, knowing he had lost his only friend, as he nodded and turned to leave, but he felt a cold hand on his arm. “Can’t you at least stay the night?”
The fire mutant thought his heart might break as he shook his head. “No. They already know where I’ve gone.” The hold on his arm tightened.
“Where will you go?”
“Back to them,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve got a decent enough setup there for now. And when that falls apart, I’ve got some debts to pay in New Orleans.”
“But-“
“No buts,” he said in the harshest voice he could muster. “I’m dead again. You see me again, you know to shoot. Love you too much to risk you like that.” He pulled out of the hold and was out the door before Bobby could stutter or object or say it back.
John had stalked most of the way to the empty room he had used to get into the school when he felt a viselike grip on his arm throw him against a wall.
“What were you thinking?” the voice hissed from behind him.
“That he’s off-limits,” grunted John as he threw his body weight against the woman containing him and rolled across the room. “Just like Erik.”
“Magneto is on our side,” she hissed as they circled one another in the empty room. “And I didn’t just give away one of our most prized possessions to the enemy, so I think I get to say what’s off limits and what’s not.” She lunged at the boy and was surprised when she was thrown against the back wall by a raging heat.
“Erik isn’t on any side right now. Why were you here, anyway? Just enjoy listening to my conversations? Or going back to the one that gave you those scars?” He threw another ball of flame, watching as the burns began to coat her entire body.
“He broke your heart,” she choked out. John sent one more scorch of flames and then withdrew the fire.
“I can handle my own affairs. If you hadn’t gone for him, we would still have the gun.”
Mystique’s eyes widened. “How did you-“
“I have friends in some of the same people as you do. Friends that I paid for any information regarding one X-man a very long time ago.” He crossed his arms and waited.
“Fine. See how much I care. He’ll be a thorn in your side until you decide to pluck him out yourself.” The shape shifter lifted herself off the wall and opened the window. “I expect to see you back at the base tonight.”
“Don’t wait up.”
“We’ll see,” she grinned as she leapt from the window to the ground.
John sighed and took the fire escape across the hall. At least this time, the one he loved was protected. Now John could die in peace, and a new person could emerge in the boy’s body.
Bobby watched from his window as two figures ghosted across the grounds. His grip on John’s parting gift tightened, realizing the other boy had been right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should never have been afraid. I should have made you stay with me. I did love you too.” Just as he was about to turn, he saw a column of flame erupt just outside the walls around the school grounds. “Goodbye, St. John.”
.
John woke up in a cold sweat, and wiped his eyes. He grabbed the lighter that sat on his nightstand and flicked, letting the fire burn the nightmare away. The same one, getting more and more frequent. He ran the fire along his arms, his face, drying away the evidence of his fear. He felt the body next to him shift away from the cleansing heat. John shook his head, trying not see the rough blue skin beside him.
It had begun when he first joined the Brotherhood. Every night, a different girl opened his door. At first he thought they were other group members, then that they were a test brought in by Magneto. Then, the bodies of X-Men came to offer themselves - Rogue, Kitty, Storm, Jean. That was when he figured it out. Every night, he said no, and slammed the door. Eventually, it was men. Ones he knew, ones he had never met. It was disgusting. She never even tried in her own skin. Every day, he refused.
Until the day at the clinic. He saw Bobby, saw the fear in his eyes when he recognized John, the glance towards the door. Not fear for himself, not fear of what John had become. Fear for her. Memories crashed down on the fire mutant - every look Bobby had given Rogue, every touch, that kiss in his parent’s house. The looks of disgust he directed at his best friend in public. The smirk, the clever words, they came easily. Preventing the hurt from showing in his eyes, restraining himself from grabbing Bobby and forcing him to see, that had been a test. He had been so caught up in his private struggles, he had almost missed the look of pain Bobby shot the skunk-haired girl at the head of the line. Almost hadn’t seen how the brown haired boy tensed, wanting to run to her. John wanted to burn the bitch right then. He let the flame fly to his hand, readied himself to throw. But then his look would come back, the pain in his blue eyes, the way his mouth opened slightly, and it would be his fault.
John loosed his flames on the clinic, giving the Iceman and his girl one more chance to find a way to be the happy superfreak couple, and said nothing when Magneto raged about his reckless actions on an information gathering mission.
That night, John had been at his desk, clutching the chair, when the door opened. “If Bobby Drake is standing there when I turn around, and I wake up alone tomorrow, I won’t ask any questions,” he said, seemingly to the wall. He barely jumped when a cold, white hand came from behind and rested on his hip. He turned to find the not-Bobby, with his soft brown hair and clear blue eyes looking up at him with surprise and understanding. John felt something in him scream and break, and something else fall into place, as he fisted his hand in the soft-brown hair that felt just like the real Bobby and let himself fall into a world of tongues and teeth and chilled white skin.
That was their unspoken agreement now. John got to spend his nights entangled with the not-Bobby, and fall asleep in his arms. In exchange, he stayed with an organization that had already taught him all it deemed necessary, which offered him no more safety than he could provide himself, helping a woman help the man she loved in secret.
John shuddered and got out of bed to shower, knowing the movement would wake her and send her away. He turned on the hot water all the way, and grabbed a bar of hotel soap. A whole year since she had rescued his unconscious body from Alcatraz, after Magneto had been shot. A whole year they had been touring the country, rebuilding their group while its master recovered, never staying in one place, never showing off their powers. It made John’s blood boil, but he did nothing but step into the steaming water. Today was going to be hard enough without a fight.
Robert Drake, Iceman, was already exhausted. Classes had been cancelled for the private holiday, so he had spent the day in the danger room, and then quickly showered and attended the memorial service for Jean. He wondered if they would have it every year, or if it was just to mark that they had all somehow survived a whole year. He wondered if he was so tired he was hearing things. Because he was very sure he hadn’t left music on in his room.
By the time Bobby reached his room, he had determined two things: The music was most definitely coming from his room, and he had most definitely not left it playing. He stopped outside the door and took a deep breath. He had talked with Kitty and Jubilee about touching his music, and especially the CD player in the corner. John’s CD player. It still had the music they had been listening to, the day John had left. His favorite CD. Bobby had wondered from time to time if he missed it, if there was a way to get it to him. But those were in the category of Forbidden Thoughts, along with all his memories of him and the fire mutant, and facts like some nights, when he couldn’t sleep, he turned on that CD player, real low, and let it fill his thoughts. Or that some mornings, when he woke after dreaming about his best friend, he would sneak over to the closet where all John’s clothes still lay, and curl up with one, smelling it and crying. Or that he had killed his best friend.
Bobby let his hand rest on the doorknob, thinking of what he would say to whoever had transgressed. Finally, he turned the knob, “I know I’ve asked-“
“What?” asked John with a smile, leaning up against the wall. He watched as Bobby’s jaw dropped and he kicked the door shut.
“You can’t be here.”
John frowned. This was not how this conversation was supposed to go, although he supposed it was better than being frozen on the spot. Not that he didn’t have a flame going behind his back. “It’s my room too.”
Bobby took a step forward, and rested an arm on his desk for support. “No, it’s not. You left.”
“My things are still here.”
“You left them here.”
John shook his head. It was that kind of imbecilic logic that had convinced him to leave in the first place. A place for everything and everything in its place. “You were staying here.”
Bobby’s mind raced, trying to find what on earth that had to do with anything. It didn’t help when John strolled across the room, all cool nonchalance, until he was so close Bobby could feel his breath on his lips. “Are you staying?” he whispered before he could stop himself. That was one of the Forbidden Thoughts.
“You know I can’t.” John breathed in the scent, cherished the chill that came whenever Bobby was upset or nervous or angry. It was something the not-Bobby simply couldn’t get right.
“But-“ Bobby knew it was true. John was a felon, a criminal, and he hated the school anyway. They had fought, they were enemies-
John reached out and grasped the back of his friend’s neck before he even realized he had done it. It was automatic now, a reflex. He saw how Bobby’s thoughts simply stopped, remembered the first time he had done that. “No.” He let himself move a little closer, let him lips wander over the ice mutant’s jaw. “Just had to come back,” he kissed up to his face, letting his teeth graze that spot behind Bobby’s ear, “one last time.” He smiled as the room cooled again, and the tension drained out of the boy in front of him.
“Please,” Bobby felt himself wrap one arm around John’s waist as the other ran through the boy’s hair. It was as though muscle memory was taking over, all the Forbidden Thoughts breaking out and locking all conscious thoughts away.
John ran his tongue over the ice mutant’s cold lips, not letting him finish his sentence. He let his hands wander, tracing designs no one would ever see over his lover’s skin, let Bobby pull him towards the bed. He pushed the brown-haired boy onto the soft comforter. If heaven’s half this wonderful, John thought, I wish I had died a year ago. But the thought jolted him. Heaven was too good for him. That wasn’t why he was here. He kissed his way back up to Bobby’s ear and whispered, slowly, “Do you have an idea how easy it would be for me to kill you right now?” He felt the boy below him tense, knew his eyes would be clouded with confusion.
“Do you think I care?” Bobby’s voice quivered, but the resolve underneath was strong. John bit back tears. That was the response he had been afraid of.
“I care,” he spat as he pushed himself off up the bed. He braced himself as he looked into the hurt in Bobby’s eyes, but couldn’t stop feeling like someone was pulling his stomach out of his body.
“What’s wrong with you?” Bobby stood up and moved toward John, who took a step back.
John sighed and pulled the gun from his pocket and threw it to Bobby, who caught it immediately. “That’s a cure gun, fully loaded. You ever see me again, and I mean it, ever, you shoot first and think later.”
The blue eyed mutant stared at the weapon in his hands before placing it on the bed behind him. “But what if-“
John’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No ifs. You see, you think it might be me, you find someone in here again, you shoot ‘em. Worst comes to worst, I can do without my powers for a while.”
“I can’t-“ Bobby’s hands were beginning to ice over and he closed them into fists.
“Damnit Bobby!” John barely registered the ball of flame in his hand, much less the scream. “They know you’re my weak spot! They know everything!”
“How?” He sank onto the bed, unable to process what was going on.
Because I’m sleeping with a whore in your skin. “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is you’re not safe from me anymore.”
“I was never in any danger from you!” Bobby stood there, face just inches from him, eyes daring him to say it wasn’t true.
“You’ll take the gun, and promise me to do as I’ve asked, no matter what you think in that numbed brain of yours.”
The ice mutant raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because,” said John, “if you don’t, I’ll go down this hallway until I find the one that has cute little Kitty asleep in it, and I’ll fry her as you listen to her scream.” He swallowed the vomit as the thought passed through his mind, refusing to show his weakness.
Bobby’s eyes hardened as he picked up the gun and placed it in a drawer in his desk. “I’ll have a special place made for it in my suit, okay?”
John ‘s eyes burned, knowing he had lost his only friend, as he nodded and turned to leave, but he felt a cold hand on his arm. “Can’t you at least stay the night?”
The fire mutant thought his heart might break as he shook his head. “No. They already know where I’ve gone.” The hold on his arm tightened.
“Where will you go?”
“Back to them,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve got a decent enough setup there for now. And when that falls apart, I’ve got some debts to pay in New Orleans.”
“But-“
“No buts,” he said in the harshest voice he could muster. “I’m dead again. You see me again, you know to shoot. Love you too much to risk you like that.” He pulled out of the hold and was out the door before Bobby could stutter or object or say it back.
John had stalked most of the way to the empty room he had used to get into the school when he felt a viselike grip on his arm throw him against a wall.
“What were you thinking?” the voice hissed from behind him.
“That he’s off-limits,” grunted John as he threw his body weight against the woman containing him and rolled across the room. “Just like Erik.”
“Magneto is on our side,” she hissed as they circled one another in the empty room. “And I didn’t just give away one of our most prized possessions to the enemy, so I think I get to say what’s off limits and what’s not.” She lunged at the boy and was surprised when she was thrown against the back wall by a raging heat.
“Erik isn’t on any side right now. Why were you here, anyway? Just enjoy listening to my conversations? Or going back to the one that gave you those scars?” He threw another ball of flame, watching as the burns began to coat her entire body.
“He broke your heart,” she choked out. John sent one more scorch of flames and then withdrew the fire.
“I can handle my own affairs. If you hadn’t gone for him, we would still have the gun.”
Mystique’s eyes widened. “How did you-“
“I have friends in some of the same people as you do. Friends that I paid for any information regarding one X-man a very long time ago.” He crossed his arms and waited.
“Fine. See how much I care. He’ll be a thorn in your side until you decide to pluck him out yourself.” The shape shifter lifted herself off the wall and opened the window. “I expect to see you back at the base tonight.”
“Don’t wait up.”
“We’ll see,” she grinned as she leapt from the window to the ground.
John sighed and took the fire escape across the hall. At least this time, the one he loved was protected. Now John could die in peace, and a new person could emerge in the boy’s body.
Bobby watched from his window as two figures ghosted across the grounds. His grip on John’s parting gift tightened, realizing the other boy had been right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should never have been afraid. I should have made you stay with me. I did love you too.” Just as he was about to turn, he saw a column of flame erupt just outside the walls around the school grounds. “Goodbye, St. John.”
.