Post by Iceman on Jul 10, 2006 12:28:49 GMT -5
Part I - Putting the 'Danger' in The Danger Room
Part II - Aftermath
Part III - The Walls Come Down
The police car hadn't been in the driveway when Bobby and Peter had gone out a couple of hours previously. Peter looked at it curiously. It was extremely rare for the police to come to the Xavier Institute, so it was obvious that something was afoot.
"What's going on?" Bobby asked curiously as he walked past the police car to the stairs, his pace quickening. It was an automatic reaction; he didn't expect Pete to know, since it hadn't been there when they'd left for their every-other-day-or-so jog. When he got to the door, he pulled it open and walked into the comforting air conditioning, glancing back to make sure it was open still for Pete to grab.
The big Russian followed directly behind him just as two policemen came down the corridor from Charles Xavier's office. The taller of the two barely came to Peter's shoulder and looked up at the big Russian suspiciously. Peter's reaction to this hostility was to hold the front door of the mansion open politely so that the policemen could leave.
Bobby moved out of the doorway so as not to block the cops from leaving. Looking around, he saw Professor Xavier with Scott and Storm, walking toward the Professor's office. Bobby wasn't about to go over and ask them what had happened that had summoned the police. After the cops had gone, Bobby shot Peter a questioning look.
Peter shrugged lightly. "It is most unusual to see law enforcement officers here at the mansion," he said aloud, voicing what both of them were thinking. "I wonder if someone's parents have had an accident, something like that?" His honest face creased with worry. "Perhaps-Illyana…"
Scott drew to a halt next to them. "Get upstairs to your room, Bobby," was all he said. He didn't tell Peter to go to his room and the strapping young man looked faintly confused by this.
Bobby looked at Scott, his eyes hidden behind his shades, perplexed. He nodded slowly and gave Pete a shrug before heading for the stairs, taking them by two's. Did that mean that it was something involving Pete that he didn't need to know? He wore a frown as he bounded up the stairs and went down the hall to his room.
He opened his door and pushed it open, glancing back down the hall, still curious at being sent to his room.
Lying on the other bed, his back to Bobby was the unmistakably scrawny form of John Allerdyce.
Bobby started to walk into the room before he stopped stock-still in the doorway. He stared at the back of the familiar head. "...John?!" Were his eyes deceiving him? No, that was definently him.
Bobby laughed and moved farther into the room. "I should have known it was you!" He exclaimed with a grin.
"Hey, Bobs."
It had been two weeks since John had left Bobby in the hospital and there had been no contact from him at all. He shifted on the bed and rolled over so that he was facing his roommate. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, with one particularly spectacular black eye blossoming. "I came home," he said, simply. "The cops said they'd take me home, so we came here."
He looked tired and apart from the obvious injuries, he'd lost weight - but it was definitely John.
Bobby's smile faltered a little when he saw John's face. "Did you kick his ass?" He asked, to keep the moment from becoming awkward. Referring to whomever had given John the black eye and the other cuts. He stood by the end of John's bed, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"I broke his arm."
John sat up, clearly with some effort and tried to smile. This was a mistake through his facial injuries and he mumbled 'ow'. "Bastard tried to mug me. But hey, Bobs, you'd be proud, I didn't use my powers. Not at all. We just got into a full-on scrap-next thing you know, we're both in the cells."
Bobby grinned when John told him what he'd done to the other guy. That grin got even wider when he told him he'd done it without any powers. It took on a certain quality of respect. "That's awesome. Well, I mean, considering--" He wasn't trying to give him kudos for fighting. Just for doing it without flame-balling the other guy. "So, you gonna stay?" He tried to keep his tone neutral.
"I guess," said John. "For now, at least. I gotta wait to see if he's gonna press charges. But the Professor really stood up for me." John seemed bewildered by this.
"Press charges? For self-defense? That's bullshit." Bobby obviously sided with his friend completely. "He mugged you!"
"He's claiming it was the other way round, that it was me mugging him. And I have several cautions on file. Odds are stacking up in his favour just now." John reached for a glass of water next to the bed, hesitated and held it up. "Would you?"
Though still troubled by John's story, Bobby's look softened to almost a smile when he realized what John was asking. He leaned over the bed and touched the side of the glass for just a few seconds, just long enough to make the water colder but not freeze it. He then sat down at the end of the bed. "The Professor will smooth everything out." He said confidently, though he couldn't be positive.
"Everyone will be glad you're back," he changed topics. "Our team has been absolutely whooping yours, by the way." Bobby grinned at him, referring of course to the long-standing and extremely competitive basketball a bunch of the guys played a couple of times a week. "They'll be glad to have their Captain back."
"That'll all change now," said John, sipping his cold water tentatively through the cut on his lower lip. "Give me a couple of days to lose some of the bruises and we'll have a 'welcome back' match." He glanced up. "I'm sorry, man. Leaving the way I did. I...didn't know what else to do."
Welcome back match? Bobby grinned and shook his head, of course eternally ready to argue with John over whose team was better. But then John got serious, and apologized. Bobby didn't remember ever hearing him apologize, except for setting him on fire.'
He glanced down and then back to John, nodding. "It's okay," he responded, and he had the tone of someone who was ready to put it all behind him. "Just, you owe me one thing."
"Just one?" John looked more depressed and miserable than Bobby had ever known him and his black moods had already become legendary around the mansion. "Name it."
Bobby saw that his forgiveness wasn't going to be enough to cheer John up. It would probably just take time. "That you'll stick around for a while and train until you get your gung-ho fire-balling under control."
"I'm not going anywhere," said John, eventually. "You're stuck with me for now, I'm afraid."
"Good," Bobby said, clearly glad to hear it, despite John's tone about it. "And you'll train?" He hadn't answered the important part, and Bobby wanted to make sure he promised to do it.
John drank more of his water and winced at the pain of his split lip. "God, who are you, my mother? Yes, OK, I'll train." His words were harsh, but Bobby knew John well enough to recognize the implied humour in them. "As long as I don't get thrown in the cells. Gotta straighten this mess out first."
Bobby nodded. "They'll probably let you out of classes for a while," he said jealously. "I oughta be thanking you. They let me out for two weeks." Bobby went over to his bed and sat down on it, facing John.
"Thank me for setting fire to your ass? Yeah, any time."
Bobby laughed, his grin wide for a moment, then dropping only slightly. It still hurt to scrunch up his face like that. But he ignored the twinge of pain and continued. "Yeah. You should have seen Rogue and Kitty and half the girls in school-" Maybe an overstatement. He imitated the girls with a high-pitched voice. "Bobby, are you okay? I brought you cookies, Bobby. Does it hurt, Bobby?" He broke off and chuckled, leaning way back against the wall.
He spoke again, in a secretive voice, a smirk on his face. "I've been telling Rogue massages really help my healingmuscles." Even though he'd asked the Doctor hopefully before leaving the hospital if massages would help, and he'd been told no. But Rogue didn't need to know that.
"You guys still getting on well then, huh?" John managed another one of those half-smiles that were all his lip would allow him. "Bet they'll be thrilled beyond belief to see me back again."
"They will be thrilled," Bobby said, glancing at John. He couldn't tell if he'd said that sarcastically or not. "And yeah...We're still..." Bobby shrugged. "If only, man. "If only!" Bobby knew John would know that he was referring to Rogue's inability to touch. Well, kiss, more specifically. Or make out. Or...Anything that Bobby sometimes felt like he was missing out on.
"Something will happen eventually," said John, turning round to lie down again. "Guess it'll be a couple of days 'til I see them all, I've been confined to my room until further notice - and the Professor took my lighter off me. Said it was a precautionary measure. At least your curtains will be safe, huh?"
Bobby was surprised at first to hear the Professor had taken John's lighter. But then, it was probably best. Glancing to the new curtains, he smiled and nodded. As a joke, he'd hung one blue curtain, on his side, and a red one on John's side. Well, okay, he hadn't hung them. He'd had to get Kitty and Rogue to do it. "Yeah," he agreed. "You know, first time we get in an argument, this whole place is going to hell. We'd kick each other's asses." He grinned; it was funny when they weren't actually arguing yet.
John stared up at the ceiling. "Probably be for the best if we try not to argue then, I guess." He turned his head sideways. "I never thought I'd actually miss this place, but I did."
"Of course you did. You just can't get enough of us." John seemed to want to rest, or something; He wasn't very talkative. "You want to sleep? I can bug off," he offered understandingly.
There was no reply from John. In fact Bobby wondered for a couple of moments if he had actually fallen asleep already. It was only after a couple of moments when John made a peculiar noise that Bobby realized his friend and roommate, the hard-skinned, streetwise Pyro was crying like a baby.
When it finally hit Bobby that John was crying--John, whom he'd never even seen close to tears, and was the last person he'd ever have expected to see cry. Bobby leaned forward, watching him for a moment, not knowing what to do. He didn't know if John would be embarrassed if Bobby acknowledge that he knew he was crying...But he couldn't just not see if he could help.
Though Bobby didn't know why exactly John was crying, he knew the past week or so had been traumatizing for him. And he had never been of the opinion that men shouldn't cry. Bobby had cried before--even in front of Rogue, after his mom had phoned to tell him that his grandma had passed away. Was there something John wasn't telling him? He licked his lips and asked gently, "John...What's wrong? Did something happen while you were gone?"
It took John a while to control his misery and he sat back up again. "It's just everything," he said, between choked sobs. "All of it. Y'know. Setting fire to you, hitting the streets again, not knowing where my life was gonna end up-having seven bells of hell knocked out of me and you being so damn pleased to see me after-after everything-I can't remember when someone was pleased to see me."
The tears began afresh.
John Allerdyce had spent four years of his life learning to close off his emotions. But right now, he'd reached saturation. Had he but known it, he had a little outside help from more than one telepath in the mansion who had picked up just how badly he needed to let out his emotions. If there hadn't been Jean or the Professor around, he'd not have been weeping right now.
Bobby looked at the floorboards as John spoke. "Those guys must be real dumbasses to not be glad to see you," Bobby started quietly, meaning anyone John had been known on the streets. He looked up at John as he continued, "I think you're the best guy here, after the Professor and Scott. And all of that crap's behind you now--You're never going to get knocked around again, not here." He wasn't telling him to get over it--he knew it wasn't something that you could forget about. Just telling him it didn't have to happen again.
His friend was crying silently now, his thin shoulders heaving with silent sobs, clearly struggling to keep a hold of himself. Yet somehow he finally managed it, covering his face with his hands to brush away the ceaseless flood of tears. When he was able to speak again, it was his usual self-deprecation.
"Man, I'm sorry about this, don't know what came over me."
"Don't be," Bobby said in response to John's apology, "everybody does it." He wondered if he ought to reassure him that he wouldn't tell a soul...But he decided that it probably went without saying. It's not like he was going to go around telling anyone. He looked around the room, for something to do to take John's mind off of everything. His eyes fell on the small TV on the table in the corner--he didn't use it much, because there were bigger ones in the rec. rooms. But if John had to stay in here...
"You know, I bet I could get the X-Box from upstairs and hook it up in here..." He started, looking back at John. They--like all the other guys--had spent countless hours playing video games.
John blinked at Bobby. "You'd do that? I mean, set it up in here? You'd stay in here with me?" Dear Lord, the boy looked ready to start crying again.
Bobby nodded, hiding his troubled thoughts with a smile as he stood. "Yeah. Even if I had something better to do." John was extremely emotional; maybe he should take some medication, maybe he was depressed. But if it didn't continue for long, it was probably just a product of how rough he'd had it over the last week.
"OK," said John, wiping his eyes again. "You're on." The idea of playing video games and just, for once, being nothing more than a teenage kid was suddenly extraordinarily appealing.
Bobby grinned and nodded, walking to the door. He was glad to see John was cheering up, even if it only seemed like a tiny bit so far. "Let's see if you're still the King of Halo," he teased John as he opened the door. "I'll be back in a few."
"Dude, I'm the King, Duke, Master and all-round God," said John to Bobby as he left the room. Right now, proving this point was all that mattered. None of the other stuff hanging over him was important.
Somewhere, Jean Grey smiled. The boy was happier - for now at least.
Part II - Aftermath
Part III - The Walls Come Down
The police car hadn't been in the driveway when Bobby and Peter had gone out a couple of hours previously. Peter looked at it curiously. It was extremely rare for the police to come to the Xavier Institute, so it was obvious that something was afoot.
"What's going on?" Bobby asked curiously as he walked past the police car to the stairs, his pace quickening. It was an automatic reaction; he didn't expect Pete to know, since it hadn't been there when they'd left for their every-other-day-or-so jog. When he got to the door, he pulled it open and walked into the comforting air conditioning, glancing back to make sure it was open still for Pete to grab.
The big Russian followed directly behind him just as two policemen came down the corridor from Charles Xavier's office. The taller of the two barely came to Peter's shoulder and looked up at the big Russian suspiciously. Peter's reaction to this hostility was to hold the front door of the mansion open politely so that the policemen could leave.
Bobby moved out of the doorway so as not to block the cops from leaving. Looking around, he saw Professor Xavier with Scott and Storm, walking toward the Professor's office. Bobby wasn't about to go over and ask them what had happened that had summoned the police. After the cops had gone, Bobby shot Peter a questioning look.
Peter shrugged lightly. "It is most unusual to see law enforcement officers here at the mansion," he said aloud, voicing what both of them were thinking. "I wonder if someone's parents have had an accident, something like that?" His honest face creased with worry. "Perhaps-Illyana…"
Scott drew to a halt next to them. "Get upstairs to your room, Bobby," was all he said. He didn't tell Peter to go to his room and the strapping young man looked faintly confused by this.
Bobby looked at Scott, his eyes hidden behind his shades, perplexed. He nodded slowly and gave Pete a shrug before heading for the stairs, taking them by two's. Did that mean that it was something involving Pete that he didn't need to know? He wore a frown as he bounded up the stairs and went down the hall to his room.
He opened his door and pushed it open, glancing back down the hall, still curious at being sent to his room.
Lying on the other bed, his back to Bobby was the unmistakably scrawny form of John Allerdyce.
Bobby started to walk into the room before he stopped stock-still in the doorway. He stared at the back of the familiar head. "...John?!" Were his eyes deceiving him? No, that was definently him.
Bobby laughed and moved farther into the room. "I should have known it was you!" He exclaimed with a grin.
"Hey, Bobs."
It had been two weeks since John had left Bobby in the hospital and there had been no contact from him at all. He shifted on the bed and rolled over so that he was facing his roommate. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, with one particularly spectacular black eye blossoming. "I came home," he said, simply. "The cops said they'd take me home, so we came here."
He looked tired and apart from the obvious injuries, he'd lost weight - but it was definitely John.
Bobby's smile faltered a little when he saw John's face. "Did you kick his ass?" He asked, to keep the moment from becoming awkward. Referring to whomever had given John the black eye and the other cuts. He stood by the end of John's bed, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"I broke his arm."
John sat up, clearly with some effort and tried to smile. This was a mistake through his facial injuries and he mumbled 'ow'. "Bastard tried to mug me. But hey, Bobs, you'd be proud, I didn't use my powers. Not at all. We just got into a full-on scrap-next thing you know, we're both in the cells."
Bobby grinned when John told him what he'd done to the other guy. That grin got even wider when he told him he'd done it without any powers. It took on a certain quality of respect. "That's awesome. Well, I mean, considering--" He wasn't trying to give him kudos for fighting. Just for doing it without flame-balling the other guy. "So, you gonna stay?" He tried to keep his tone neutral.
"I guess," said John. "For now, at least. I gotta wait to see if he's gonna press charges. But the Professor really stood up for me." John seemed bewildered by this.
"Press charges? For self-defense? That's bullshit." Bobby obviously sided with his friend completely. "He mugged you!"
"He's claiming it was the other way round, that it was me mugging him. And I have several cautions on file. Odds are stacking up in his favour just now." John reached for a glass of water next to the bed, hesitated and held it up. "Would you?"
Though still troubled by John's story, Bobby's look softened to almost a smile when he realized what John was asking. He leaned over the bed and touched the side of the glass for just a few seconds, just long enough to make the water colder but not freeze it. He then sat down at the end of the bed. "The Professor will smooth everything out." He said confidently, though he couldn't be positive.
"Everyone will be glad you're back," he changed topics. "Our team has been absolutely whooping yours, by the way." Bobby grinned at him, referring of course to the long-standing and extremely competitive basketball a bunch of the guys played a couple of times a week. "They'll be glad to have their Captain back."
"That'll all change now," said John, sipping his cold water tentatively through the cut on his lower lip. "Give me a couple of days to lose some of the bruises and we'll have a 'welcome back' match." He glanced up. "I'm sorry, man. Leaving the way I did. I...didn't know what else to do."
Welcome back match? Bobby grinned and shook his head, of course eternally ready to argue with John over whose team was better. But then John got serious, and apologized. Bobby didn't remember ever hearing him apologize, except for setting him on fire.'
He glanced down and then back to John, nodding. "It's okay," he responded, and he had the tone of someone who was ready to put it all behind him. "Just, you owe me one thing."
"Just one?" John looked more depressed and miserable than Bobby had ever known him and his black moods had already become legendary around the mansion. "Name it."
Bobby saw that his forgiveness wasn't going to be enough to cheer John up. It would probably just take time. "That you'll stick around for a while and train until you get your gung-ho fire-balling under control."
"I'm not going anywhere," said John, eventually. "You're stuck with me for now, I'm afraid."
"Good," Bobby said, clearly glad to hear it, despite John's tone about it. "And you'll train?" He hadn't answered the important part, and Bobby wanted to make sure he promised to do it.
John drank more of his water and winced at the pain of his split lip. "God, who are you, my mother? Yes, OK, I'll train." His words were harsh, but Bobby knew John well enough to recognize the implied humour in them. "As long as I don't get thrown in the cells. Gotta straighten this mess out first."
Bobby nodded. "They'll probably let you out of classes for a while," he said jealously. "I oughta be thanking you. They let me out for two weeks." Bobby went over to his bed and sat down on it, facing John.
"Thank me for setting fire to your ass? Yeah, any time."
Bobby laughed, his grin wide for a moment, then dropping only slightly. It still hurt to scrunch up his face like that. But he ignored the twinge of pain and continued. "Yeah. You should have seen Rogue and Kitty and half the girls in school-" Maybe an overstatement. He imitated the girls with a high-pitched voice. "Bobby, are you okay? I brought you cookies, Bobby. Does it hurt, Bobby?" He broke off and chuckled, leaning way back against the wall.
He spoke again, in a secretive voice, a smirk on his face. "I've been telling Rogue massages really help my healingmuscles." Even though he'd asked the Doctor hopefully before leaving the hospital if massages would help, and he'd been told no. But Rogue didn't need to know that.
"You guys still getting on well then, huh?" John managed another one of those half-smiles that were all his lip would allow him. "Bet they'll be thrilled beyond belief to see me back again."
"They will be thrilled," Bobby said, glancing at John. He couldn't tell if he'd said that sarcastically or not. "And yeah...We're still..." Bobby shrugged. "If only, man. "If only!" Bobby knew John would know that he was referring to Rogue's inability to touch. Well, kiss, more specifically. Or make out. Or...Anything that Bobby sometimes felt like he was missing out on.
"Something will happen eventually," said John, turning round to lie down again. "Guess it'll be a couple of days 'til I see them all, I've been confined to my room until further notice - and the Professor took my lighter off me. Said it was a precautionary measure. At least your curtains will be safe, huh?"
Bobby was surprised at first to hear the Professor had taken John's lighter. But then, it was probably best. Glancing to the new curtains, he smiled and nodded. As a joke, he'd hung one blue curtain, on his side, and a red one on John's side. Well, okay, he hadn't hung them. He'd had to get Kitty and Rogue to do it. "Yeah," he agreed. "You know, first time we get in an argument, this whole place is going to hell. We'd kick each other's asses." He grinned; it was funny when they weren't actually arguing yet.
John stared up at the ceiling. "Probably be for the best if we try not to argue then, I guess." He turned his head sideways. "I never thought I'd actually miss this place, but I did."
"Of course you did. You just can't get enough of us." John seemed to want to rest, or something; He wasn't very talkative. "You want to sleep? I can bug off," he offered understandingly.
There was no reply from John. In fact Bobby wondered for a couple of moments if he had actually fallen asleep already. It was only after a couple of moments when John made a peculiar noise that Bobby realized his friend and roommate, the hard-skinned, streetwise Pyro was crying like a baby.
When it finally hit Bobby that John was crying--John, whom he'd never even seen close to tears, and was the last person he'd ever have expected to see cry. Bobby leaned forward, watching him for a moment, not knowing what to do. He didn't know if John would be embarrassed if Bobby acknowledge that he knew he was crying...But he couldn't just not see if he could help.
Though Bobby didn't know why exactly John was crying, he knew the past week or so had been traumatizing for him. And he had never been of the opinion that men shouldn't cry. Bobby had cried before--even in front of Rogue, after his mom had phoned to tell him that his grandma had passed away. Was there something John wasn't telling him? He licked his lips and asked gently, "John...What's wrong? Did something happen while you were gone?"
It took John a while to control his misery and he sat back up again. "It's just everything," he said, between choked sobs. "All of it. Y'know. Setting fire to you, hitting the streets again, not knowing where my life was gonna end up-having seven bells of hell knocked out of me and you being so damn pleased to see me after-after everything-I can't remember when someone was pleased to see me."
The tears began afresh.
John Allerdyce had spent four years of his life learning to close off his emotions. But right now, he'd reached saturation. Had he but known it, he had a little outside help from more than one telepath in the mansion who had picked up just how badly he needed to let out his emotions. If there hadn't been Jean or the Professor around, he'd not have been weeping right now.
Bobby looked at the floorboards as John spoke. "Those guys must be real dumbasses to not be glad to see you," Bobby started quietly, meaning anyone John had been known on the streets. He looked up at John as he continued, "I think you're the best guy here, after the Professor and Scott. And all of that crap's behind you now--You're never going to get knocked around again, not here." He wasn't telling him to get over it--he knew it wasn't something that you could forget about. Just telling him it didn't have to happen again.
His friend was crying silently now, his thin shoulders heaving with silent sobs, clearly struggling to keep a hold of himself. Yet somehow he finally managed it, covering his face with his hands to brush away the ceaseless flood of tears. When he was able to speak again, it was his usual self-deprecation.
"Man, I'm sorry about this, don't know what came over me."
"Don't be," Bobby said in response to John's apology, "everybody does it." He wondered if he ought to reassure him that he wouldn't tell a soul...But he decided that it probably went without saying. It's not like he was going to go around telling anyone. He looked around the room, for something to do to take John's mind off of everything. His eyes fell on the small TV on the table in the corner--he didn't use it much, because there were bigger ones in the rec. rooms. But if John had to stay in here...
"You know, I bet I could get the X-Box from upstairs and hook it up in here..." He started, looking back at John. They--like all the other guys--had spent countless hours playing video games.
John blinked at Bobby. "You'd do that? I mean, set it up in here? You'd stay in here with me?" Dear Lord, the boy looked ready to start crying again.
Bobby nodded, hiding his troubled thoughts with a smile as he stood. "Yeah. Even if I had something better to do." John was extremely emotional; maybe he should take some medication, maybe he was depressed. But if it didn't continue for long, it was probably just a product of how rough he'd had it over the last week.
"OK," said John, wiping his eyes again. "You're on." The idea of playing video games and just, for once, being nothing more than a teenage kid was suddenly extraordinarily appealing.
Bobby grinned and nodded, walking to the door. He was glad to see John was cheering up, even if it only seemed like a tiny bit so far. "Let's see if you're still the King of Halo," he teased John as he opened the door. "I'll be back in a few."
"Dude, I'm the King, Duke, Master and all-round God," said John to Bobby as he left the room. Right now, proving this point was all that mattered. None of the other stuff hanging over him was important.
Somewhere, Jean Grey smiled. The boy was happier - for now at least.
