Not Part Of The Plan
John had stopped the car several miles away from where the Rally had taken place and had turned to stare at the unconscious figure in his back seat. You could add kidnap to his ever colourful list of nefarious wrong doings; it was right up there somewhere with murder.
Seeing Jean, it had freaked him the hell out. She was supposed to be dead, dead as in never coming back and swallowed whole by water. If he closed his eyes for long enough he could almost hear her in his head and that gave him a headache, he’d always hated psychics and how they could get into your head.
John had enough secrets and enough truth masked by lies to ever want or ever invite anyone into his head.
He rubbed a hand across his mouth and folded his chin into the fleshy part of his palm. Taking Rogue had never been part of the plan, should have left her but he had to wonder if he had done that would Logan have gotten to her in time? And why did he even care? Emotions, they really were a person’s undoing.
His throat muscles worked hard as they forced past the lump that had formed and he kept staring at Rogue. “Fuck,” He uttered as he pushed his fingers through his hair and wrapped the back of his neck.
Magneto would expect him to return with her, hand her over as some kind of bargaining chip or to be used how the Brotherhood saw fit. Pietro would spread the news, the guy liked to talk almost as fast as he liked to move. John faced a dilemma; he’d either do what he was supposed to or break the rules and deal with this in another way.
This wasn’t just some random X-Woman, it was Rogue, a girl that had been his friend once. He’d always known that he’d come into conflict with the people he’d left behind, it was part of this war they were waging.
What would she do with him if their positions had been reversed? Probably hand him over to her precious Xavier and his band of X-Men. He already knew what they thought of him, he could see it in their eyes.
The knowledge helped to breed a certain amount of contempt and disregard inside the young man. Gaze that had once been so conflicted turned cold and regarded her with indifference.
I thought you were the worst one.
His eyes clenched shut as Jean’s voice echoed in the depths of his skull once again, a memory rather than an actual event. John rubbed at his temples and eased away that voice and the images that had accompanied it.
He had nothing to prove, not to her and not to anyone else. She was supposed to be dead; didn't anyone stay dead these days?
Fine, he’d take her back to his place and let Magneto deal with her because honestly? John didn't have the first fucking clue of how he should progress. He might be twenty but he still needed guidance, something Xavier had never managed to give him but Magneto instilled with little to no difficulty.
Seeing Jean, it had freaked him the hell out. She was supposed to be dead, dead as in never coming back and swallowed whole by water. If he closed his eyes for long enough he could almost hear her in his head and that gave him a headache, he’d always hated psychics and how they could get into your head.
John had enough secrets and enough truth masked by lies to ever want or ever invite anyone into his head.
He rubbed a hand across his mouth and folded his chin into the fleshy part of his palm. Taking Rogue had never been part of the plan, should have left her but he had to wonder if he had done that would Logan have gotten to her in time? And why did he even care? Emotions, they really were a person’s undoing.
His throat muscles worked hard as they forced past the lump that had formed and he kept staring at Rogue. “Fuck,” He uttered as he pushed his fingers through his hair and wrapped the back of his neck.
Magneto would expect him to return with her, hand her over as some kind of bargaining chip or to be used how the Brotherhood saw fit. Pietro would spread the news, the guy liked to talk almost as fast as he liked to move. John faced a dilemma; he’d either do what he was supposed to or break the rules and deal with this in another way.
This wasn’t just some random X-Woman, it was Rogue, a girl that had been his friend once. He’d always known that he’d come into conflict with the people he’d left behind, it was part of this war they were waging.
What would she do with him if their positions had been reversed? Probably hand him over to her precious Xavier and his band of X-Men. He already knew what they thought of him, he could see it in their eyes.
The knowledge helped to breed a certain amount of contempt and disregard inside the young man. Gaze that had once been so conflicted turned cold and regarded her with indifference.
I thought you were the worst one.
His eyes clenched shut as Jean’s voice echoed in the depths of his skull once again, a memory rather than an actual event. John rubbed at his temples and eased away that voice and the images that had accompanied it.
He had nothing to prove, not to her and not to anyone else. She was supposed to be dead; didn't anyone stay dead these days?
Fine, he’d take her back to his place and let Magneto deal with her because honestly? John didn't have the first fucking clue of how he should progress. He might be twenty but he still needed guidance, something Xavier had never managed to give him but Magneto instilled with little to no difficulty.