X-Men: Necessary Evil [6/?]
Title: Necessary Evil [6/?]
Fandom: X-Men: The Movie
Characters/Pairings: Pyro, Iceman, others.
Rating: PG
Genre: AU
Word Count: Hell if I know.
Notes: God, finally. Thought I'd never get this one out. I feel like it's a bit short, but, well. It felt like the right place to leave it. As always: AU. What would happen if Magneto had succeeded in killing all the humans on earth? Set after X-2.
Some things just don't change, John thinks as he comes face-to-face with a brooding Bobby Drake, a gallon of his favorite ice cream in front of him.
It only takes a moment for John to decide against turning right around and heading back to his room. Instead, he nonchalantly crosses the kitchen to rummage through a cabinet for something sweet.
"Can't sleep, huh," he asks smirkingly, trying to be like his old self, dismissing that ridiculous tremor in his voice. He clears his throat.
There is a slight hesitation. And then Bobby replies, almost too softly to be heard, "Nah. Can't sleep."
John tolerates the relief that washes over him, and grabs a random bag of cookies from the shelf. He sits down carefully across from Bobby, not quite sure if this is allowed under their tacit agreement - whatever that tacit agreement is.
"I - " Bobby begins abruptly, his eyes darting to John, and then back at his gallon of ice cream. "Storm said you got a job offer."
"Yeah. I did," is John's slow reply. "From Emma Frost."
"Oh. Yeah." Bobby stabs at the ice cream with his spoon. "Are you, uh. Are you gonna take it?"
John carefully does not look at him. "Maybe. Why the hell not? I liked it there."
"You don't like it here?" Bobby asks quickly. John stares. "Oh. I mean, right, stupid question - "
"No," John says firmly. "No, I like it here. Wouldn't have come back if I didn't."
"But you'll still take the job."
"Got another week to think about it." He pauses. "Why? Want me to leave that badly?"
"What? No, I - No! I didn't - Shit - "
"I was kidding."
Bobby blinks. John gives him a cautious half-smirk.
It is enough to get that familiar low laugh out of Bobby as he ducks his head and digs his spoon into the ice cream again. Something in John simultaneously tightens and loosens, and his smirk becomes a smile.
And that's when he realizes how bad he's got it.
The days fall into a pattern. The mornings he spends wandering the corridors and the expansive grounds, searching for something he can't quite define. The afternoons are spent in the Danger Room, battling whoever and whatever comes his way, and rediscovering muscles he forgot he ever had. Evenings he sneaks into the library, curling up in some long-forgotten corner with a book. Meals he takes with everyone else, usually sharing a soda with Jeanne-Marie or snatching a stick of gum from Jubilee before she can protest.
All in all, it is a comfortable - if tense - existence.
And it makes each day seem like an entire fucking lifetime when all John's really got to look forward to are awkward post-midnight conversations with a chronic insomniac who's got an unhealthy passion for ice cream.
"You're on the team."
It is four days later, at lunch. Kitty looks down at John, completely serious and more than a little resentful. She is one of the ones who will never - never - forgive him, he knows, but he can't quite bring himself to care. He gives her a doubtful look and returns to his burger.
"I said, you're on the team," she repeats, impatience seeping into her voice.
"Sure thing, princess."
"You've got half an hour to get yourself to the Danger Room, dickhead," she snaps, and turns sharply on her heel, and John watches her go with an ill-disguised smirk on his face.
It almost feels like the old days.
But he is there, in the Danger Room, at forty past one, ten minutes late just to irritate Kitty.
It isn't Kitty who greets him at the door with a frown and a, "Goddammit, John," though. Bobby motions him through the door with a sharp nod and a stern look, and all of a sudden, it hits him.
The team.
Kitty and Marie trading punches in the far corner. Piotr and Jean-Paul sparring a few feet away. Jubilee and Jeanne-Marie stretching on the right. And above, two fliers John doesn't know, locked in aerial combat.
The team.
"'Bout fucking time you graduated," John says, but his mouth is dry as he watches it all.
"Yeah, well," is all Bobby replies, and he can't quite manage to hide the pride in his voice. Then, louder: "X-Men. To me!"
John's heart is actually pounding as everything stops - and then, almost magnetically, assembles around them.
"Roll call," Bobby says, and the others stand at attention. "Iceman."
"Colossus."
"Shadowcat is go."
"Jubilee ready to rock 'n' ro - "
"Northstar. This is idiotic, Rober - "
"Aurora. Jean-Paul..."
" - you fir - Aw, hell. Cannonball here."
"Rogue here."
"Angel."
And then they are looking at John. All of them. Expectantly, some with exasperation written all over their faces, some with resentment... He swallows.
Glances at Bobby. Glances at Jeanne-Marie.
She smiles comfortingly, raising her eyebrows. Beside her, Jean-Paul scowls.
He swallows again, forces a smirk. Looks at them all in turn.
"Pyro." Clank-click-whoosh. The smirk comes easier now, as the Angel twitches his wings away from the inferno in John’s hand and Marie sucks her teeth. "Heya, kids."
"Massachusetts Academy. This is Monet St Croix. How may I help you?"
"I'd like to speak to Ms. Frost."
"She's not here." A pause. "Shall I take a message, Mr...?"
"Allerdyce. St John Allerdyce. From the Xavier Institute. Yeah. Just tell her I can't take the job." A smirk. "Got a better offer."
chapters: one | two | three | four | five | six
Fandom: X-Men: The Movie
Characters/Pairings: Pyro, Iceman, others.
Rating: PG
Genre: AU
Word Count: Hell if I know.
Notes: God, finally. Thought I'd never get this one out. I feel like it's a bit short, but, well. It felt like the right place to leave it. As always: AU. What would happen if Magneto had succeeded in killing all the humans on earth? Set after X-2.
Some things just don't change, John thinks as he comes face-to-face with a brooding Bobby Drake, a gallon of his favorite ice cream in front of him.
It only takes a moment for John to decide against turning right around and heading back to his room. Instead, he nonchalantly crosses the kitchen to rummage through a cabinet for something sweet.
"Can't sleep, huh," he asks smirkingly, trying to be like his old self, dismissing that ridiculous tremor in his voice. He clears his throat.
There is a slight hesitation. And then Bobby replies, almost too softly to be heard, "Nah. Can't sleep."
John tolerates the relief that washes over him, and grabs a random bag of cookies from the shelf. He sits down carefully across from Bobby, not quite sure if this is allowed under their tacit agreement - whatever that tacit agreement is.
"I - " Bobby begins abruptly, his eyes darting to John, and then back at his gallon of ice cream. "Storm said you got a job offer."
"Yeah. I did," is John's slow reply. "From Emma Frost."
"Oh. Yeah." Bobby stabs at the ice cream with his spoon. "Are you, uh. Are you gonna take it?"
John carefully does not look at him. "Maybe. Why the hell not? I liked it there."
"You don't like it here?" Bobby asks quickly. John stares. "Oh. I mean, right, stupid question - "
"No," John says firmly. "No, I like it here. Wouldn't have come back if I didn't."
"But you'll still take the job."
"Got another week to think about it." He pauses. "Why? Want me to leave that badly?"
"What? No, I - No! I didn't - Shit - "
"I was kidding."
Bobby blinks. John gives him a cautious half-smirk.
It is enough to get that familiar low laugh out of Bobby as he ducks his head and digs his spoon into the ice cream again. Something in John simultaneously tightens and loosens, and his smirk becomes a smile.
And that's when he realizes how bad he's got it.
The days fall into a pattern. The mornings he spends wandering the corridors and the expansive grounds, searching for something he can't quite define. The afternoons are spent in the Danger Room, battling whoever and whatever comes his way, and rediscovering muscles he forgot he ever had. Evenings he sneaks into the library, curling up in some long-forgotten corner with a book. Meals he takes with everyone else, usually sharing a soda with Jeanne-Marie or snatching a stick of gum from Jubilee before she can protest.
All in all, it is a comfortable - if tense - existence.
And it makes each day seem like an entire fucking lifetime when all John's really got to look forward to are awkward post-midnight conversations with a chronic insomniac who's got an unhealthy passion for ice cream.
"You're on the team."
It is four days later, at lunch. Kitty looks down at John, completely serious and more than a little resentful. She is one of the ones who will never - never - forgive him, he knows, but he can't quite bring himself to care. He gives her a doubtful look and returns to his burger.
"I said, you're on the team," she repeats, impatience seeping into her voice.
"Sure thing, princess."
"You've got half an hour to get yourself to the Danger Room, dickhead," she snaps, and turns sharply on her heel, and John watches her go with an ill-disguised smirk on his face.
It almost feels like the old days.
But he is there, in the Danger Room, at forty past one, ten minutes late just to irritate Kitty.
It isn't Kitty who greets him at the door with a frown and a, "Goddammit, John," though. Bobby motions him through the door with a sharp nod and a stern look, and all of a sudden, it hits him.
The team.
Kitty and Marie trading punches in the far corner. Piotr and Jean-Paul sparring a few feet away. Jubilee and Jeanne-Marie stretching on the right. And above, two fliers John doesn't know, locked in aerial combat.
The team.
"'Bout fucking time you graduated," John says, but his mouth is dry as he watches it all.
"Yeah, well," is all Bobby replies, and he can't quite manage to hide the pride in his voice. Then, louder: "X-Men. To me!"
John's heart is actually pounding as everything stops - and then, almost magnetically, assembles around them.
"Roll call," Bobby says, and the others stand at attention. "Iceman."
"Colossus."
"Shadowcat is go."
"Jubilee ready to rock 'n' ro - "
"Northstar. This is idiotic, Rober - "
"Aurora. Jean-Paul..."
" - you fir - Aw, hell. Cannonball here."
"Rogue here."
"Angel."
And then they are looking at John. All of them. Expectantly, some with exasperation written all over their faces, some with resentment... He swallows.
Glances at Bobby. Glances at Jeanne-Marie.
She smiles comfortingly, raising her eyebrows. Beside her, Jean-Paul scowls.
He swallows again, forces a smirk. Looks at them all in turn.
"Pyro." Clank-click-whoosh. The smirk comes easier now, as the Angel twitches his wings away from the inferno in John’s hand and Marie sucks her teeth. "Heya, kids."
"Massachusetts Academy. This is Monet St Croix. How may I help you?"
"I'd like to speak to Ms. Frost."
"She's not here." A pause. "Shall I take a message, Mr...?"
"Allerdyce. St John Allerdyce. From the Xavier Institute. Yeah. Just tell her I can't take the job." A smirk. "Got a better offer."
chapters: one | two | three | four | five | six