(no subject)
Who: John and Bobby
What: Talking about trivia stuff, almost like it was before
When: After Bobby's encounter with Mystique
Where: Boy's Bathroom
___________________
John had spent the better part of a couple hours skulking around the mansion visiting old haunts like his previously shared room and it would seem a lot of things had changed whilst some had remained the same. Like the scorch mark across the ceiling when he'd been having a bad dream and lashed out without really meaning to.
He was currently limping down one plush carpeted hallway, lighter opening and closing with a metallic ding; the sound almost as sharp as the owner of the lighter. John was aware of eyes on him and he could hear the whispers but frankly after what he'd been through nothing could touch him.
John had been trying to piece together memories, there was too much black and not enough clarity and that worried him. John could remember everything up until a point then nothing, almost as if it hadn't happened at all but he knew that it had.
The taste of copper in his mouth brought him to a slow uneven stop and fingertips reached out to find warmth leaking from his nose and upon closer inspection it turned out to be blood. Furrowing his brow, he wiped his fingers off on his jeans then swiped a sleeve carelessly along the bottom of his nose in an attempt to stop the flow.
It worked only so well and John was soon making for the nearest bathroom. One shoulder opened up the door and shaky footing had him all but tripping into the nearest cubicle. A couple handfuls of tissue later and the flow of blood seemed to be slowing.
Mystique had hurt more than just Bobby's ego with her psychotic attack. As much as he played it off, her punch to his face still ached and his neck had a tough kink in it after being put into a violent headlock. He was fuming as he stomped down the hallway, his breath heavy and steaming in the air.
He was half-tempted to track down Rogue and talk to her, but he didn't see what sense it would do. It wasn't Rogue in the kitchen who had seduced him and he had already said his piece to her. If she had really been interested in him, she wouldn't have left or would at least have come back when she did.
Bobby felt like he was out of options. He grabbed a towel from his room and stomped down to the bathroom to take a cold shower. But when he got to the bathroom there was someone already inside, making a ruckus. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, hoping he'd have some alone time. He took off his shirt and stood in front of the mirror, inspecting his neck where Mystique had held the vibranium blade.
John's eyes slid over towards the door when it swung open and he heard the curse in a familiar voice. Cleaning up as much of the mess on his face, John tossed the tissues and flushed the toilet. Slowly he peeled himself away from the side of the cubicle and stepped out.
"Thought that was you," The comment that passed from his lips as he made his way towards the sink.
As much as he hated it his hands were shaking but he more or less ignored them and just twisted the tap on. Lighter was rested no more than one centimeter away as John started to wash blood off his hands and then very slowly worked it over his face in an attempt at cleaning himself up.
Bobby's eyes darted to the mirror when he heard the familiar voice, only to see John looking back at him in the reflection. He spun around quickly, his eyes on John as the teen washed the blood from his hands. He didn't know what to say to his former friend, so he turned his attention back to the mirror and the redness on his neck. "I thought you were dead," he said hurriedly. "I'm glad that's not the case."
“For a while there so did I.” John remarked, twisting the tap off and stepping back to towel dry his hands. “And thanks.” He straightened up slowly, reaching for the lighter with a hiss before he glanced at Bobby and an eyebrow arched at the redness on his former friend's neck. “What in the hell happened to you?”
"You're little pal Mystique happened," he huffed. "Vibranium is a bitch." He cooled his hand and put it on the redness, which helped with the dull ache a little bit. "I was minding my own business and she's in the kitchen morphed as.... anyway, she's really crazy dude. We're talking psychotic." He cracked his neck and gathered some of his shower supplies.
John just shrugged and then bit out a short breath as fuck yeah that hurt. “You’re only figuring this out now?” He snapped the lighter open - flipped it shut again - only to snap it open again. “Probably a good idea to sleep with one eye open whilst she’s around, she’s not above getting you in your sleep.” He was still concerned about the chunks of memory just not there and reaching for them seemed to give him a nosebleed.
Bobby just grumbled incoherently as he began to unlace his shoes in preparation for his cold shower. "So where have you been?" he asked. "Me and some of the juniors were the ones who discovered your base all shot to hell by Sentinels. I thought for sure you guys didn't make it out. That place was really messed up."
“As much as I can figure, and this is between the hitting and the kicking, some kind of detention center.” He wrapped his hands around the sink area and hoisted his weight up off the ground then perched so he could use the mirrored wall to keep him upright.
“Five cages all in a roll, collar around my neck, shackles around both ankles and wrists. I wasn’t alone, there were more and some looked like they’d been there a while.” John closed his eyes, told himself that he just had to breathe and he’d be fine even if he was missing a large chunk of memory.
The more he reached, the quicker the blood came but this time he felt it before he tasted it so he was able to catch it with the towel he’d used to dry his face. “Yeah, Magneto told me how bad the damage was. It’s a miracle they only got one of us.”
Bobby was now wearing only his blue jeans as he looked up at John. "Dude, that's a pretty nasty nosebleed you've got going there. You should go down to the med lab and have it checked out. I don't think they'll turn you away just because you don't live here anymore." He hung his towel around his neck and walked over to the sink that John was sitting on. "I'll take you there if you want."
“Hank already saw to me and I’ve seen enough medical…” Now John’s brow furrowed like he was supposed to remember something but instead had forgotten it. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing.”
He tipped his head, opened and closed his lighter a couple times then pulled the towel away from his nose. “Comes and goes, I figure it’s just stress.” You’d think he’d seen his own blood enough for one lifetime without it pouring out of his nose every time he tried to remember something.
John’s eye turned to Bobby before he leaned in and took a closer look at the marking Mystique had left on his former friend’s neck.
Bobby became aware of the fact that John was inspecting his neck and he looked away. "I'm just having a shower," he said, "nothing too important. But if you say you're good, then I'm not going to worry. I'm not your mother." He sighed and gathered up his clothes pile on the floor, moving them to a bench so they would be out of the middle of the room. "Uh, so like... does Rogue ever talk about me? Like when you're doing Brotherhood junk?"
John reclined back against the mirrored wall and rifled through his pockets to find the packet of cigarettes Remy had given him earlier. Upon locating it, he pulled them out and peeled back the top to pluck one out from inside the packet.
The cigarette was slid between his top and cut bottom lip and his lighter was snapped into life and the flame used to light the cigarette. “Used to, back in the beginning.” He rested the lighter down beside him and then simply inhaled a drag from the cigarette, hoping and maybe wishing the smoke would kill him before something else did.
“Rest assured she doesn’t talk about anyone else either.” A slight shrug and an almost pained expression before John flicked ashes aside and let the smoke escape the corner of his lips.
"Ah well," he said with a shrug. "I should have expected. I've just been a little messed up since you guys came to pay a visit." He removed his jeans and stood in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. He felt weird, talking to John in the boy’s bathroom once more about just trivial stuff. It made him realise how little friends he had left at the mansion. He had been growing closer to Husk, but he needed a guy friend and he had probably ruined their friendship anyways when he kissed her.
"Alright, I'm getting in the shower now," said Bobby. "It'd be really gay if you watched me and stuff," he said with a laugh. "But you know, it's nice talking to you without having to worry about kicking your ass. You know, your bed's still in the room if you need to crash there tonight."
“Dude please, even if I was, I’d go for someone a lot prettier.” John smirked then took one more drag, exhaled another stream of smoke before gingerly clambering off the side.
Resting back against the edge he nodded his head. “Yea, ass kicking aside, it’s …yeah.” John had never been the most verbose when it came to expressing himself unless he was deliberately out to get you.
The remark about the bed brought about a nod. “Might just take up that offer.”
"Won't hurt my feelings if you don't, I'm just letting you know is all," said Bobby. He wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled his underwear off from underneath, keeping himself covered up the entire time. He folded them and put them on the pile with the rest of his clothes. He grabbed his soap, shampoo and washcloth and headed to the shower. He pulled the curtain, removed the towel and blasted the cold water. To anyone else, it would have been unbearable, but Bobby Drake never had a problem with the cold.
John brushed off the ash on the end of the cigarette then turned back to regard himself in the mirror. A brief haunted look passed across his eye before he was reaching for the towel he’d practically bled all over and he left the bathroom. The door swinging shut after him. Maybe he’d stay awake tonight.
What: Talking about trivia stuff, almost like it was before
When: After Bobby's encounter with Mystique
Where: Boy's Bathroom
___________________
John had spent the better part of a couple hours skulking around the mansion visiting old haunts like his previously shared room and it would seem a lot of things had changed whilst some had remained the same. Like the scorch mark across the ceiling when he'd been having a bad dream and lashed out without really meaning to.
He was currently limping down one plush carpeted hallway, lighter opening and closing with a metallic ding; the sound almost as sharp as the owner of the lighter. John was aware of eyes on him and he could hear the whispers but frankly after what he'd been through nothing could touch him.
John had been trying to piece together memories, there was too much black and not enough clarity and that worried him. John could remember everything up until a point then nothing, almost as if it hadn't happened at all but he knew that it had.
The taste of copper in his mouth brought him to a slow uneven stop and fingertips reached out to find warmth leaking from his nose and upon closer inspection it turned out to be blood. Furrowing his brow, he wiped his fingers off on his jeans then swiped a sleeve carelessly along the bottom of his nose in an attempt to stop the flow.
It worked only so well and John was soon making for the nearest bathroom. One shoulder opened up the door and shaky footing had him all but tripping into the nearest cubicle. A couple handfuls of tissue later and the flow of blood seemed to be slowing.
Mystique had hurt more than just Bobby's ego with her psychotic attack. As much as he played it off, her punch to his face still ached and his neck had a tough kink in it after being put into a violent headlock. He was fuming as he stomped down the hallway, his breath heavy and steaming in the air.
He was half-tempted to track down Rogue and talk to her, but he didn't see what sense it would do. It wasn't Rogue in the kitchen who had seduced him and he had already said his piece to her. If she had really been interested in him, she wouldn't have left or would at least have come back when she did.
Bobby felt like he was out of options. He grabbed a towel from his room and stomped down to the bathroom to take a cold shower. But when he got to the bathroom there was someone already inside, making a ruckus. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath, hoping he'd have some alone time. He took off his shirt and stood in front of the mirror, inspecting his neck where Mystique had held the vibranium blade.
John's eyes slid over towards the door when it swung open and he heard the curse in a familiar voice. Cleaning up as much of the mess on his face, John tossed the tissues and flushed the toilet. Slowly he peeled himself away from the side of the cubicle and stepped out.
"Thought that was you," The comment that passed from his lips as he made his way towards the sink.
As much as he hated it his hands were shaking but he more or less ignored them and just twisted the tap on. Lighter was rested no more than one centimeter away as John started to wash blood off his hands and then very slowly worked it over his face in an attempt at cleaning himself up.
Bobby's eyes darted to the mirror when he heard the familiar voice, only to see John looking back at him in the reflection. He spun around quickly, his eyes on John as the teen washed the blood from his hands. He didn't know what to say to his former friend, so he turned his attention back to the mirror and the redness on his neck. "I thought you were dead," he said hurriedly. "I'm glad that's not the case."
“For a while there so did I.” John remarked, twisting the tap off and stepping back to towel dry his hands. “And thanks.” He straightened up slowly, reaching for the lighter with a hiss before he glanced at Bobby and an eyebrow arched at the redness on his former friend's neck. “What in the hell happened to you?”
"You're little pal Mystique happened," he huffed. "Vibranium is a bitch." He cooled his hand and put it on the redness, which helped with the dull ache a little bit. "I was minding my own business and she's in the kitchen morphed as.... anyway, she's really crazy dude. We're talking psychotic." He cracked his neck and gathered some of his shower supplies.
John just shrugged and then bit out a short breath as fuck yeah that hurt. “You’re only figuring this out now?” He snapped the lighter open - flipped it shut again - only to snap it open again. “Probably a good idea to sleep with one eye open whilst she’s around, she’s not above getting you in your sleep.” He was still concerned about the chunks of memory just not there and reaching for them seemed to give him a nosebleed.
Bobby just grumbled incoherently as he began to unlace his shoes in preparation for his cold shower. "So where have you been?" he asked. "Me and some of the juniors were the ones who discovered your base all shot to hell by Sentinels. I thought for sure you guys didn't make it out. That place was really messed up."
“As much as I can figure, and this is between the hitting and the kicking, some kind of detention center.” He wrapped his hands around the sink area and hoisted his weight up off the ground then perched so he could use the mirrored wall to keep him upright.
“Five cages all in a roll, collar around my neck, shackles around both ankles and wrists. I wasn’t alone, there were more and some looked like they’d been there a while.” John closed his eyes, told himself that he just had to breathe and he’d be fine even if he was missing a large chunk of memory.
The more he reached, the quicker the blood came but this time he felt it before he tasted it so he was able to catch it with the towel he’d used to dry his face. “Yeah, Magneto told me how bad the damage was. It’s a miracle they only got one of us.”
Bobby was now wearing only his blue jeans as he looked up at John. "Dude, that's a pretty nasty nosebleed you've got going there. You should go down to the med lab and have it checked out. I don't think they'll turn you away just because you don't live here anymore." He hung his towel around his neck and walked over to the sink that John was sitting on. "I'll take you there if you want."
“Hank already saw to me and I’ve seen enough medical…” Now John’s brow furrowed like he was supposed to remember something but instead had forgotten it. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing.”
He tipped his head, opened and closed his lighter a couple times then pulled the towel away from his nose. “Comes and goes, I figure it’s just stress.” You’d think he’d seen his own blood enough for one lifetime without it pouring out of his nose every time he tried to remember something.
John’s eye turned to Bobby before he leaned in and took a closer look at the marking Mystique had left on his former friend’s neck.
Bobby became aware of the fact that John was inspecting his neck and he looked away. "I'm just having a shower," he said, "nothing too important. But if you say you're good, then I'm not going to worry. I'm not your mother." He sighed and gathered up his clothes pile on the floor, moving them to a bench so they would be out of the middle of the room. "Uh, so like... does Rogue ever talk about me? Like when you're doing Brotherhood junk?"
John reclined back against the mirrored wall and rifled through his pockets to find the packet of cigarettes Remy had given him earlier. Upon locating it, he pulled them out and peeled back the top to pluck one out from inside the packet.
The cigarette was slid between his top and cut bottom lip and his lighter was snapped into life and the flame used to light the cigarette. “Used to, back in the beginning.” He rested the lighter down beside him and then simply inhaled a drag from the cigarette, hoping and maybe wishing the smoke would kill him before something else did.
“Rest assured she doesn’t talk about anyone else either.” A slight shrug and an almost pained expression before John flicked ashes aside and let the smoke escape the corner of his lips.
"Ah well," he said with a shrug. "I should have expected. I've just been a little messed up since you guys came to pay a visit." He removed his jeans and stood in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. He felt weird, talking to John in the boy’s bathroom once more about just trivial stuff. It made him realise how little friends he had left at the mansion. He had been growing closer to Husk, but he needed a guy friend and he had probably ruined their friendship anyways when he kissed her.
"Alright, I'm getting in the shower now," said Bobby. "It'd be really gay if you watched me and stuff," he said with a laugh. "But you know, it's nice talking to you without having to worry about kicking your ass. You know, your bed's still in the room if you need to crash there tonight."
“Dude please, even if I was, I’d go for someone a lot prettier.” John smirked then took one more drag, exhaled another stream of smoke before gingerly clambering off the side.
Resting back against the edge he nodded his head. “Yea, ass kicking aside, it’s …yeah.” John had never been the most verbose when it came to expressing himself unless he was deliberately out to get you.
The remark about the bed brought about a nod. “Might just take up that offer.”
"Won't hurt my feelings if you don't, I'm just letting you know is all," said Bobby. He wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled his underwear off from underneath, keeping himself covered up the entire time. He folded them and put them on the pile with the rest of his clothes. He grabbed his soap, shampoo and washcloth and headed to the shower. He pulled the curtain, removed the towel and blasted the cold water. To anyone else, it would have been unbearable, but Bobby Drake never had a problem with the cold.
John brushed off the ash on the end of the cigarette then turned back to regard himself in the mirror. A brief haunted look passed across his eye before he was reaching for the towel he’d practically bled all over and he left the bathroom. The door swinging shut after him. Maybe he’d stay awake tonight.