comment_fic 41-45: XMen, Leverage, Supernatural
Title: from the ashes
Fandom: XMen movieverse
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for X3
Pairings: mentions of Iceman/Rogue, implied Bobby/John
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Pyro/Iceman, Family doesn't end with blood
Bobby has a split-second choice-leave John at Alcatraz and survive himself, or bring John with him, weighing him down, and try to get far enough away from what used to be Dr. Grey in time.
John's cold to the touch and Bobby is sorry for that. Maybe if he'd chased John back at Alkali Lake-maybe be could've changed this. Kept him from Magneto's slimy grasp.
John isn't all that heavy; he'd always been smaller than Bobby. He never ate enough, even when Bobby'd been there to remind him. Left over from the street, Bobby thinks. Horde food away for the lean times.
Bobby hurries from the island, one of the last few to escape, and it's time for another decision. He can turn John over to the authorities as a criminal, as one of Magneto's generals. He can ask Storm for help-but she might just turn him over, anyway.
Or, in the confusion and turmoil, he can keep going into San Francisco. Just him and John, like back before Rogue entered their lives, back before everything went wrong.
He once thought of John as a brother. He doesn't use that comparison anymore because of Ronnie-
John jerks in his grip, fighting. It's how he's always woken up. Bobby quickly kneels down and releases him so there's not as far to fall.
"Bobby?" he asks, looking around in shock, hands raised to either strike or defend.
"Hey," Bobby says.
"What happened?" John demands, still ready for a fight.
"I chose," Bobby replies, waiting for John's decision.
Title: the universal language
Fandom: Leverage
Disclaimer: I don’t own Eliot or the nephew
Warnings: takes place before “Second David Job”
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Eliot, spending time with his nephew
Before heading back to LA for reconnaissance, Eliot swings by his sister’s place. It’s been over ten years since he went home and he knows it’s long overdue. Emily’s happy to see him, just like he figured she’d be-he’s the prodigal brother. She has no idea who he is. What he is, what he’s done, what’ll he keep on doing until it kills him.
The husband is a good enough guy, with a quiet voice and gentle hands he will never raise to Emily in anger. That’s all Eliot really cares about. Emily never got the brunt of Dad’s rage and Mom’s helplessness, and he never wants her to experience that, no matter what it’d take to make sure. If that meant a midnight visit with the husband and a deep grave far out in the middle of a pasture, so be it. Luckily for the husband, though, he seems the kinda man that’ll never happen to.
The kid’s bigger than Eliot thought he’d be. Already seven. Where do the years go? Just yesterday, Eliot got the phone-call. Now the kid is always asking questions, peppering Eliot for information. Where he goes, what he does, who he sees. Eliot has no idea what to answer. He looks to Emily for help, but she’s grinning, snuggled up with the husband.
Finally, as the kid pauses for breath, Eliot asks, “Kid, you like horses?”
The kid nods, face lit up in excitement. Eliot smiles and looks to Emily for permission.
Her one instruction is, “Have him back for supper.”
Title: not the hero
Fandom: XMen movieverse
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for Origins: Wolverine
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 350
Point of view: third
Prompt: Wade/author's choice, "I don't know my family. What about you?"
Notes: All I know about Wade is from wikipedia and the movie.
He finds the kid about a dozen years after that fucking island and fucking Stryker and fucking Wolverine teaming up with fucking Sabertooth.
Not that he's bitter. He's got lots of nifty new skills and everyone thinks he's dead, so maybe he did come out the winner. Whatever. Moving on.
Anyway. He finds the kid hustling in Los Angeles, trying to cheat at pool and failing miserably because he’s actually not that good a player. Then he tries to bluff his way out of it, before the intended mark drags the kid out the back.
It’s not his problem. He’s got enough of those on his own. He’s not a nice man.
So when he rises to his feet and follows them out, it’s not about doing the right thing. He just happened to be heading that direction, and if he can beat someone bloody on the way, well. Bully for him.
But when he gets there, the guy is on fire and the kid is grinning.
“Huh,” he says. “That’s interesting.”
The kid whirls around, fingers flicking his direction, and some of the fire rushes toward him. He dodges, lunging for the kid, and grabs the kid’s hands in his own. Instantly, the fire vanishes.
“Gotta learn better control, boyo,” he says.
The kid’s gaze is fearful. “What-what are you gonna do?” he asks. Can’t be more than twelve, if that. Still brand-new to his ability, but clearly not to the big bad world.
“Anyone lookin’ for you?” Studying the boy, it’s obvious he’s been alone for a while. At least a year. Maybe even before his ability manifested.
His eyes hardening, the kid tries jerking away. Flames stutter to life between his hands, but it’s not enough.
“My name’s Wade,” he tells the boy. “What’s yours?”
“John,” the kid mutters. “Now let me go.”
Wade smiles. “I like your spark,” he says. “I think I’ll keep you.”
It’ll be fun to have a sidekick for awhile. And if the kid gets too annoying, there’s that bald dude starting up a school in New York.
Title: paved with good intentions
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: spoilers for season 4; slightly implied AU
Parings: none
Wordcount: 90
Rating: PG
Point of view: third
Prompt: Sam, Lawyer
He tells himself it's not that different from what he did in that other life. He's still helping people. Still stopping bad guys. Just-
This time they're human. Less likely to kill him, or curse him, or send him to--
Well. He's still helping people. And Dean's safe. Dean's safe where Lilith and Alistair can't touch him anymore.
And anyway, isn't this the life he wanted? Back at Stanford, with Jess. He was going to be a lawyer.
It's not that different. And if Dean remembered, he'd understand.
Really, he would.
Title: depends on the grip
Fandom: Leverage
Disclaimer: Eliot’s not mine
Warnings: pre-series
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Point of view: third
Wordcount: 120
Prompt: Eliot/author's choice, which came first - his skill in the kitchen or his skill with a knife?
He used to cook with his mother. At least, he's pretty sure he did. Those years are hazy, he was so young.
She'd whisper recipes to him, as they hid behind the couch together, while Dad rampaged around, yelling and cursing. Or maybe he made that up.
It was Aunt Lisa, Mom's sister, who told him that Mom used to throw knives. Aunt Lisa took him away from Dad not long after Mom died, and she didn't cook with him. Said that'd been her sister's thing, once she gave up knives.
Aunt Lisa flipped a thin blade in her hand the night she took him. "She'd want you to know how to defend yourself, kiddo," Aunt Lisa said.
Eliot nodded.