Post by Iceman on Oct 20, 2006 11:34:45 GMT -5
Bobby laid on the couch as he had for the last hour. His eyes were closed, and except for shifting positions every now and then, he didn’t move. The guards weren’t sure if he was really asleep, but at least he wasn’t talking. They moved around the room quietly, and when they spoke, they did so in whispers.
But Bobby was far from peacefully asleep. Far from peaceful in general.
‘If I’m convicted, I’m stuck. The X-Men can’t break me out because then the government will investigate them, possibly arrest some of them, and the X-Men’s name will be ruined for good. Good job, Icee. You’ve single-handedly set mutant-human relations back a good ten years.’
‘God, I hate telepaths.’
Bobby instinctively knew that this wasn’t true, and like the anxious feeling that one gets when they know they’re about to throw up, he tried to shove away thoughts of the other two telepaths he’d known. But they came anyway, and Bobby winced as he pictured Dr. Grey, lecturing about physics with that excitement for it that Bobby had never understood, and the Professor, in his chair, doing nothing more than giving Bobby one of those smiles—the kind that was so knowing, so understanding, but not the least bit nosy or pitying.
No, he didn’t hate all telepaths. Just Emma Frost. He hated the Brotherhood—he was pretty sure John had put her up to it. Yeah, he was probably sitting on his goddamn throne somewhere, in some drafty cave, laughing his head off and feeling like he’d really beat Bobby this time.
’Yeah, well, screw you, buddy,’ Bobby thought vehemently. He still couldn’t believe that John had killed that pilot. Well, he expected it of him now—It was the John he had known that made Bobby so disappointed every time the new John did something so twisted.
For a while, Bobby had held a hope that John wasn’t completely gone—that he might see how evil the Brotherhood was, and come back. Be Bobby’s best friend again.
But then, Alcatraz had happened. And John had tried to kill him. But it went past that; because Bobby knew that if it had come down to it, that though Bobby wouldn’t have killed him, that many of the older X-Men would have.
It was the look in John’s eyes as his fire wrapped around Bobby’s body—that hardened look of malice and dark, murderous intent. It had finally gotten through to Bobby that John was never coming back. In some ways, it had helped Bobby—he stopped feeling remorse over it, stopped agonizing over what he could have done to change John’s mind, and he was able to turn that remorse into anger. He formed a hard shell of hatred against John, and it was a very personal grudge.
He’d decided somewhere in all the hours of inner monologue he’d had while in the hotel that when he got free, he was going to track down the Brotherhood. He knew he couldn’t do very much on his own, but he thought he knew someone who could. As soon as he got back, he was going to ask him about it.
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. He was going to hug everyone he was, especially Kitty and Paige and Hannah and Warren and Ororo and Kurt and yes, even Logan. Then he was going to lay a kiss on Paige that would rival the famous Eistenstadt’s VJ Day photo of the soldier kissing the nurse in Times Square. Then he was going to play any kind of game Hannah could think of for as long as she wanted to play.
And Bobby was going to freeze everything in sight as he did all this, simply because it would be so wonderful to get his powers back.
And then he’d buckle down and talk to him. Eventually.
But Bobby was far from peacefully asleep. Far from peaceful in general.
‘If I’m convicted, I’m stuck. The X-Men can’t break me out because then the government will investigate them, possibly arrest some of them, and the X-Men’s name will be ruined for good. Good job, Icee. You’ve single-handedly set mutant-human relations back a good ten years.’
‘God, I hate telepaths.’
Bobby instinctively knew that this wasn’t true, and like the anxious feeling that one gets when they know they’re about to throw up, he tried to shove away thoughts of the other two telepaths he’d known. But they came anyway, and Bobby winced as he pictured Dr. Grey, lecturing about physics with that excitement for it that Bobby had never understood, and the Professor, in his chair, doing nothing more than giving Bobby one of those smiles—the kind that was so knowing, so understanding, but not the least bit nosy or pitying.
No, he didn’t hate all telepaths. Just Emma Frost. He hated the Brotherhood—he was pretty sure John had put her up to it. Yeah, he was probably sitting on his goddamn throne somewhere, in some drafty cave, laughing his head off and feeling like he’d really beat Bobby this time.
’Yeah, well, screw you, buddy,’ Bobby thought vehemently. He still couldn’t believe that John had killed that pilot. Well, he expected it of him now—It was the John he had known that made Bobby so disappointed every time the new John did something so twisted.
For a while, Bobby had held a hope that John wasn’t completely gone—that he might see how evil the Brotherhood was, and come back. Be Bobby’s best friend again.
But then, Alcatraz had happened. And John had tried to kill him. But it went past that; because Bobby knew that if it had come down to it, that though Bobby wouldn’t have killed him, that many of the older X-Men would have.
It was the look in John’s eyes as his fire wrapped around Bobby’s body—that hardened look of malice and dark, murderous intent. It had finally gotten through to Bobby that John was never coming back. In some ways, it had helped Bobby—he stopped feeling remorse over it, stopped agonizing over what he could have done to change John’s mind, and he was able to turn that remorse into anger. He formed a hard shell of hatred against John, and it was a very personal grudge.
He’d decided somewhere in all the hours of inner monologue he’d had while in the hotel that when he got free, he was going to track down the Brotherhood. He knew he couldn’t do very much on his own, but he thought he knew someone who could. As soon as he got back, he was going to ask him about it.
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. He was going to hug everyone he was, especially Kitty and Paige and Hannah and Warren and Ororo and Kurt and yes, even Logan. Then he was going to lay a kiss on Paige that would rival the famous Eistenstadt’s VJ Day photo of the soldier kissing the nurse in Times Square. Then he was going to play any kind of game Hannah could think of for as long as she wanted to play.
And Bobby was going to freeze everything in sight as he did all this, simply because it would be so wonderful to get his powers back.
And then he’d buckle down and talk to him. Eventually.
