X2: After the Ending (PG-13), Pyro/Iceman, Bobby/Rogue.
John likes to stand on the balcony in the rain and watch the volcanoes.
Written for the timestamp meme ages ago for sethoz, who wanted How the World Ends, six months later. So this story won't make much sense without that one.
They live in the penthouse of the Hilton.
John likes to stand on the balcony in the rain and watch the volcanoes. He can almost feel their heat, even this far away, wonders how much it would take to send them exploding. Wonders if he could do it himself.
John never thought he'd end up in Hawaii, of all places. He's surprised to find he doesn't mind it.
He slides up onto the slick metal rail and sits. He can see flickering bonfires in the distance, hampered by the rain but still lit. Probably Magneto faithfuls. There was no telling how long they had before they'd have to move on again.
Gloved hands close around his waist, tugging him backwards so that if he falls now, it won't be down the twenty stories his feet are dangling above. "You're going to get pneumonia, or slip," Rogue tells him irritably, voice right at his ear, close enough he can feel the heat of her breath.
"I've never even caught a cold," John tells her dismissively. At worst he gets a fever, and that always only helps him to think.
"Bobby's gone missing," she says.
"Yeah, what else is new?" he asks.
"John," she says, and tugs, sending him tumbling back and into her. She's stronger than she looks, has a bit of Logan in her, and manages to keep them both on their feet. "It's dangerous out there."
"You say that like there's somewhere left that's not," he says resentfully, but he heads back inside and grabs his coat.
He's pretty sure he knows where to find him. Bobby was one of the last predictable things.
-----
Bobby is on the beach. He's turned the closest edge of the Pacific to ice, and the rain around him to hail. John stands at the edge of the storm, ice bouncing off the sand at his feet, and stuffs his hand in his pockets.
"Rogue's worried about you," he calls.
Bobby doesn't turn around. "Yet you're the one that's here."
"I've got nowhere else to be," John says. "And Rogue--"
"Let's not talk about Rogue," Bobby interrupts.
The temperature drops a bit more and Bobby's storm spreads further, John lowers his head and crosses his arms, but doesn't back away as the hail starts falling on him too. "She'll get over it eventually," John says lamely.
"No she won't," Bobby says.
John shifts his feet impatiently. "Are you coming back, or what?"
The hail falls in one more thick sheet before seamlessly turning back to rain, the Pacific's new ice rocking loose almost instantly, washing away with the waves. Bobby finally turns around. His eyes are glassy and he's soaking wet, looks frozen solid even though he's not.
John thinks about the volcanoes again. Steam rising and then that heat, rising and slipping down, erasing everything in its path. He's not sure the lava would listen to him the way a flame does, but he craves it anyway, like an ache.
He wonders if that's what brings Bobby down here almost every night, making ice from water and air.
"This is it, isn't it?" Bobby says. "It's not getting any better."
"No," John agrees. "It'll probably get worse though. So I suggest you enjoy what you've got while you've got it."
"Rogue would have told me everything's going to be fine," Bobby says sullenly.
John spins on his heel and starts back. "Yeah, but she's not speaking to you."
-----
John always gets stuck in the middle. He likes to joke that they're both using him as their personal heater, but they all know the real reason. Rogue won't touch Bobby anymore.
Not since that kiss.
It was before they even made it here, they were still camped out on the boat. The sky was black as could be except for the stars, nothing in the way of the view, and they had no idea which direction they were supposed to be going; it looked like it went on forever whichever way they choose.
Bobby had kissed Rogue out of nowhere, not like the few times he'd done it before, but desperate, holding on, holding on far too long. He was blue by the time John forced them apart, and Rogue was pure white.
John had been taught CPR at Xaviers', so he managed to get Bobby breathing again. Rogue was sobbing over the edge of the boat, screaming for both of them to stay the hell away from her.
She nearly froze the whole ocean with her tears, and in the morning, they spotted land.
They walked the rest of the way there.
-----
It was still raining the next day.
Bobby was in John's usual spot, sitting out on the balcony, head against the glass door, staring out. The volcano in the distance was silhouetted by the sunrise behind it, and John didn't know its name. He didn't even know which island they were on.
He narrows his eyes at it, thinks he can almost feel it, bubbling, waiting, beneath the surface.
"Something's coming," Bobby says.
"More Magneto-ites," John says, nodding in the distance. The horizon is moving, there was so many. "They probably want to use the hotel as a headquarters. God knows they aren't coming for us."
"How can you be sure?" Bobby asks.
"Because we haven't done anything to go against him," John says. "We haven't done anything at all."
"But you want to," Bobby says.
John gives a sly grin. "I wanted a war, you know that. Magneto didn't play fair. It was over before I got a chance to fight."
Bobby climbs to his feet, staring at John intently. "So fight. Stop them," he whispers.
John looks at him. "What?"
"You know you can," Bobby says. "I know you can. You're burning up."
John looks at his hands, there are sparks at his fingertips, flames lighting and going out at his nails. He doesn't know where they've come from. "I want him dead," Bobby says. "I want the bastard dead."
John shakes his head. "There's nothing we can do. If Logan, Storm and Cyclops couldn't--"
"Don't you feel it?" Bobby snaps. "This power? We're strong, John, all three of us."
"So were they," John says.
Bobby grabs John, kissing him the same way he had Rogue, like he wants to die like this, holding on to someone lethal. John feels the volcano explode as Bobby pulls away, hot lava rushing through his veins.
He turns around and it's erupted, pouring down the sides. He sends it in the path of the faithfuls, blocking their way, and it goes so easily at his command. A thought. All it takes.
"They'll just go around," Rogue says from behind them, joining them on the balcony.
"Good, let them," Bobby says, and the rain turns to snow.
Written for the timestamp meme ages ago for sethoz, who wanted How the World Ends, six months later. So this story won't make much sense without that one.
They live in the penthouse of the Hilton.
John likes to stand on the balcony in the rain and watch the volcanoes. He can almost feel their heat, even this far away, wonders how much it would take to send them exploding. Wonders if he could do it himself.
John never thought he'd end up in Hawaii, of all places. He's surprised to find he doesn't mind it.
He slides up onto the slick metal rail and sits. He can see flickering bonfires in the distance, hampered by the rain but still lit. Probably Magneto faithfuls. There was no telling how long they had before they'd have to move on again.
Gloved hands close around his waist, tugging him backwards so that if he falls now, it won't be down the twenty stories his feet are dangling above. "You're going to get pneumonia, or slip," Rogue tells him irritably, voice right at his ear, close enough he can feel the heat of her breath.
"I've never even caught a cold," John tells her dismissively. At worst he gets a fever, and that always only helps him to think.
"Bobby's gone missing," she says.
"Yeah, what else is new?" he asks.
"John," she says, and tugs, sending him tumbling back and into her. She's stronger than she looks, has a bit of Logan in her, and manages to keep them both on their feet. "It's dangerous out there."
"You say that like there's somewhere left that's not," he says resentfully, but he heads back inside and grabs his coat.
He's pretty sure he knows where to find him. Bobby was one of the last predictable things.
-----
Bobby is on the beach. He's turned the closest edge of the Pacific to ice, and the rain around him to hail. John stands at the edge of the storm, ice bouncing off the sand at his feet, and stuffs his hand in his pockets.
"Rogue's worried about you," he calls.
Bobby doesn't turn around. "Yet you're the one that's here."
"I've got nowhere else to be," John says. "And Rogue--"
"Let's not talk about Rogue," Bobby interrupts.
The temperature drops a bit more and Bobby's storm spreads further, John lowers his head and crosses his arms, but doesn't back away as the hail starts falling on him too. "She'll get over it eventually," John says lamely.
"No she won't," Bobby says.
John shifts his feet impatiently. "Are you coming back, or what?"
The hail falls in one more thick sheet before seamlessly turning back to rain, the Pacific's new ice rocking loose almost instantly, washing away with the waves. Bobby finally turns around. His eyes are glassy and he's soaking wet, looks frozen solid even though he's not.
John thinks about the volcanoes again. Steam rising and then that heat, rising and slipping down, erasing everything in its path. He's not sure the lava would listen to him the way a flame does, but he craves it anyway, like an ache.
He wonders if that's what brings Bobby down here almost every night, making ice from water and air.
"This is it, isn't it?" Bobby says. "It's not getting any better."
"No," John agrees. "It'll probably get worse though. So I suggest you enjoy what you've got while you've got it."
"Rogue would have told me everything's going to be fine," Bobby says sullenly.
John spins on his heel and starts back. "Yeah, but she's not speaking to you."
-----
John always gets stuck in the middle. He likes to joke that they're both using him as their personal heater, but they all know the real reason. Rogue won't touch Bobby anymore.
Not since that kiss.
It was before they even made it here, they were still camped out on the boat. The sky was black as could be except for the stars, nothing in the way of the view, and they had no idea which direction they were supposed to be going; it looked like it went on forever whichever way they choose.
Bobby had kissed Rogue out of nowhere, not like the few times he'd done it before, but desperate, holding on, holding on far too long. He was blue by the time John forced them apart, and Rogue was pure white.
John had been taught CPR at Xaviers', so he managed to get Bobby breathing again. Rogue was sobbing over the edge of the boat, screaming for both of them to stay the hell away from her.
She nearly froze the whole ocean with her tears, and in the morning, they spotted land.
They walked the rest of the way there.
-----
It was still raining the next day.
Bobby was in John's usual spot, sitting out on the balcony, head against the glass door, staring out. The volcano in the distance was silhouetted by the sunrise behind it, and John didn't know its name. He didn't even know which island they were on.
He narrows his eyes at it, thinks he can almost feel it, bubbling, waiting, beneath the surface.
"Something's coming," Bobby says.
"More Magneto-ites," John says, nodding in the distance. The horizon is moving, there was so many. "They probably want to use the hotel as a headquarters. God knows they aren't coming for us."
"How can you be sure?" Bobby asks.
"Because we haven't done anything to go against him," John says. "We haven't done anything at all."
"But you want to," Bobby says.
John gives a sly grin. "I wanted a war, you know that. Magneto didn't play fair. It was over before I got a chance to fight."
Bobby climbs to his feet, staring at John intently. "So fight. Stop them," he whispers.
John looks at him. "What?"
"You know you can," Bobby says. "I know you can. You're burning up."
John looks at his hands, there are sparks at his fingertips, flames lighting and going out at his nails. He doesn't know where they've come from. "I want him dead," Bobby says. "I want the bastard dead."
John shakes his head. "There's nothing we can do. If Logan, Storm and Cyclops couldn't--"
"Don't you feel it?" Bobby snaps. "This power? We're strong, John, all three of us."
"So were they," John says.
Bobby grabs John, kissing him the same way he had Rogue, like he wants to die like this, holding on to someone lethal. John feels the volcano explode as Bobby pulls away, hot lava rushing through his veins.
He turns around and it's erupted, pouring down the sides. He sends it in the path of the faithfuls, blocking their way, and it goes so easily at his command. A thought. All it takes.
"They'll just go around," Rogue says from behind them, joining them on the balcony.
"Good, let them," Bobby says, and the rain turns to snow.