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The Thing About Assumptions There is a sudden, bright light that lights up the dark night momentarily, over by the end of the garden. It’s a harsh light and looks like a ray of flames shooting up into the sky; the moon is its target. Then it’s gone except maybe a little smoke left behind, like a trail, and Marie wonders what can be happening out there in the field, if there is a battle, a fight brought on by impulse and maybe they need her help to do…something. Maybe stand by the side and shriek really loudly, because she’s gotten comments on that she can be pretty good at that. She’s already walking towards the end of the garden, her long gloves reaching up to her elbows and looking mismatched with her nightgown and she wishes she had brought a jacket, when she realizes that it’s just John being a moron. Probably sneaking out to shoot flames in the sky because no one lets him do it and it kills him; having that raw power itching underneath his fingertips all day and feeling the burn wanting to come out but can’t do anything about it because an old man in a wheelchair tells him not to. Marie is getting used to having John in her head, and it’s a nice break from having to deal with Magneto mocking her or Logan lusting after women or craving alcohol because of all the damn kids that’s occupying the school. At least John is passionate about something she can understand; she feels that she has so much more she wants to show everybody, a power she can feel tingling in her toes and shaking around her heart, dying to come out and prove to everybody that she can take care of herself. Sometimes she looks at John when he doesn’t notice, and she can tell what he is thinking of spot-on, knowing every phrase running through his head because he thinks about the same thing every single time he’s alone – and she understands. It should probably scare her a bit that she can understand and relate to a nineteen year old boy that’s filled with hormones and thinks about sex a lot more than what she does, a boy that controls fire and loves knowing how dangerous it makes him to others. The danger, she thinks, that’s the key. John loves it, and Marie is starting to crave it from being too smothered from ever having to be exposed to such a thing. And that’s pretty much the reason why she doesn’t turn her heels and heads back to the mansion, freezing in the autumn night. In fact, she’s practically marching up across the grass with determined steps to defy the cold air and she thinks of how he’ll look like when she sees him. Will he be wearing stupid nightwear like she was? She’s reminded of that night, a few months ago from now, when they were both met with nightwear on, under less than ideal conditions. Running away from the government, taking a car-ride up to Boston. Starting a chain of events that would eventually just lead them closer to each other; touching John, feeling him, knowing exactly what he thought about and how close he was about to join The Brotherhood, but didn’t – she always wondered why, but didn’t feel like it was in her place to ask. Maybe Bobby would, she thought, but he never mentioned anything, even when she asked him about it. When she sees him, he has a huge grin plastered on his face and he looks content, maybe even a bit giddy. He’s high on his own power and Marie stops for a few minutes to just watch him do his thing and swirl fire around in the air, controlling it’s motion and letting the flames gracefully dance around him, surrounding him and letting him sweat from the massive heat. He loves every moment of it and the look on his face almost looks perverted from enjoying it so much. Finally, John notices the shadowed figure staring at him from besides a tree, and he looks caught for a second, but then it all melts away and he sees who it really is. “You’re spying,” he says seriously, and Marie gets a feeling that he’s just trying to make her feel uncomfortable. He does that all the time, but he doesn’t know that it doesn’t quite work that well with her. “Not technically,” she tries, frowning a bit and knowing very well that she probably was spying. He shouldn’t give her a hard time for it anyway, because she’s seen him once send those peeks into the girl’s locker room after finishing up in the danger room. She has a memory where he manages to catch a look at Jubilee getting dressed in her room while he waited outside for Bobby to meet him after lunch. It should disgust her knowing that he can be considered a peeping Tom for some, but she knows him and his ulterior moves, and John is really just selfish underneath it all. He won’t tell Jubilee he saw her, no, but he won’t try doing it again because he’s already bored of it all, just like he gets bored of every class and every person that speaks to him every day and the only thing that doesn’t bore him is him, and what he can do with his powers and the danger. It’s astonishing how much John’s and Logan’s thoughts are sometimes so much a like. “Well,” John now has a small ball of fire resting in his right palm, growing smaller by the second until it vanishes when he closes his hand over it, “technically I don’t care.” “How long have you been out here?” He looks like he’s considering the question until he raises his eyebrows. “What’s it to you?” What’s it to you, Marie thinks, wondering if that’s his automatic reply to every question he’s ever asked. That would make a lot of sense, actually. “You look like you could need a shower.” And he does, he knows it. He’s in a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans but his face is red and sweaty and he still hasn’t caught his breath from all the excitement of fire-tossing. The corner of his mouth curls up at her comment and he likes it when she’s sassy like that. He likes it when she bites back and proves to people that her teeth are grown out, and she likes it too, and wishes she had more opportunities to be like John, to just bite back and not wondering what the other people think because John just doesn’t care what people think. “You look like you could need a coat. Forgot to bring one, or was this just an impulse espionage mission so you didn’t have time to get it?” She feigns pondering, making sure he knows that she’s trying to think of a real good answer. She takes a few steps closer now, stepping out of the shadow the oak drowned her in and he arches his back a bit, stands up straight. “A little bit of both, I guess. Wish I brought it, though.” “Well, you’re used to the cold anyhow, so I don’t see how you could be that bothered.” His reply could mean so many things, and also nothing because John doesn’t necessarily think before talking. But he also likes to snap at people and let them know that yeah, he can say hurtful things and get under your skin without flinching. “How long have you been out here?” He shrugs, seeming amused that she ignored his last comment. “Don’t know. It’s been a while since last time, so I have some catching up to do.” “Yeah?” she walks closer and the flame in his hand is back after a flick of his lighter. She is oddly fascinated by it, like she is when he takes the fire out during day but then she has to hide her interest because usually when he does it, he’s not allowed to. “Is the professor keeping you on a tight leech or somethin’?” and Christ, she’s actually striking a conversation with Pyro and it doesn’t feel that bad, not at all. Except she can feel Logan peeking out and wanting to ask how it feels having hot fire resting in your palm because he once put out a cigar in his palm and that didn’t feel so damn good. John snorts, idly moving his fingers around as the tiny flame starts molding itself into something that looks like a dog. A small poodle with big balls of hair on its tail and legs, looking ridiculous and cute at the same time. “He always keeps a tight leech, but I’m still here.” “Yeah, you’re a real rebel.” Marie notes dryly, watching the poodle swing its tail around, it growing longer and longer until it’s wrapped around the poodle’s neck, becoming a leech. “And artistic...I guess.” “Nah, I failed Art.” She knows, and doesn’t ask why. Art means school and school means that John probably won’t give her any straight answers because he hates the place. He’s close to graduating anyway, and who knows where he’ll go after and what he’ll do. Marie is sure that in a few years from now, she’ll hear about some freak fire accident on the news and she’ll gasp and widen her eyes, knowing it’s him. It freaks her out, thinking so far into the future, but that’s what Magneto does; he plans everything. John doesn’t plan a thing because that takes all the fun out of it, and she understands. “Make a…” she pauses, thinks for a second and her lips are in a tight line. “A piano.” Easy, she can hear him think and then there’s a life sized piano of fire right in front of her, wild and untamed and beautiful, and she feels the heat bouncing of it onto her, making her feel warmer and shielding her from the cold. “A bicycle,” she challenges him, remembering riding home from school on her bike back in Meridian and the piano transformed into a bike within seconds. “A chair.” “Come on,” he faux-whined, holding out his hand as he controls the bike of fire, “monkeys could make a chair out of fire.” She snorts; meeting his eyes and replies wryly, “yeah, they probably can. How about…Bobby?” He stops for a second and looks at her with a slightly panicked look. Then, before she can try and figure out what the hell that means, he starts designing a portrait of her boyfriend smiling slightly and unsurely like he does and it’s perfect. John must’ve practice doing that some time because he didn’t seem this calm and unfocused when he made the piano. Oddly enough, that doesn’t bother her one bit. “Pretty,” is all she says, sounding very girly and giddy about it. The flames are pretty, the colors and the way it feels so alive, all around her. “Are you heading back in?” “Why, you need an escort?” And the weirdest thing happens: he smiles at her but with that familiar devious glint in his eyes. She waves it away, rolling her eyes and smiling back as if she got the joke of it all. “I can go by myself, thank you. I was just curious how much longer you can take this heat.” “The heat’s fine,” he answers and the portrait of Bobby vanishes at a small movement of his hand. “I like it.” She awkwardly lets him know that she’s leaving, though she knows she can just leave without saying a word. When she walks away it takes a few seconds before she hears the whooshing sound of fire being thrown across the lawn, and the cold air isn’t getting to her, not yet. - The mansion’s quiet, but that’s expected. Marie doesn’t ask many questions, but she knows that the professor somehow found Jean by Alkali Lake, and all should be well and merry, but the thing is that she hasn’t woken up yet. Being swallowed by giant waves will do that to you, John notes dryly in her head, and she agrees. Quietly and frowning, but she still agrees. So the professor has locked himself in the hospital area and most of the time Mr. Summers is there too, and it’s no surprise. Marie thinks she shouldn’t be so shocked that Logan decides that this is the perfect time for him to leave again for Canada, to pick up cage fighting because it’s what he’s been yearning for so long. He loves fighting because it’s brutal and it had blood in it; it gives him a reason to let the animal within him slip out and hurt people around him. And it’s a really good excuse to use now when the person he loves won’t wake up from a coma. She doesn’t try to stop him this time, she doesn’t run up to him when he’s by the door and tells him that he should come back sometime, because she’ll miss him like crazy. She doesn’t let him know that she’ll probably steal his cigars when he’s gone. After Alkali Lake things got real quiet between Logan and Marie, and that was that. Then Jean happened – again – and Logan had his feet on his back so fast that Marie didn’t have time to find a good excuse for him to bring her along. When he drives off on his bike it gives out a harsh and obnoxious noise behind and she knows she’ll miss it and then she thinks of sitting on the back of the bike with him, holding onto his waist and trying hard not to fall off from it. She thinks of touching his waist without gloves and him dying and then she thinks maybe it’s good that they didn’t get to say goodbye. Maybe what they both need is a little fighting right now, she rationalizes, and she’s envious how easy it is for him to just take off and beat the crap out of drunken men in locked cages. Even after he’s gone she stares out of the window as if she’s expecting something to happen. “He’s not showing up.” It’s John and he’s standing behind her by the window. “Why? What’s the excuse?” She sighs and knows it’s a rotten thing of him to do, to just leave her when he promised her this one thing. With a light shrug, like it’s no big deal at all, John replies, “He’s got something planned for you, and I’m not allowed to tell.” How can one person manage to look both bored and devious at the same time? “This, of course, means that I will tell you everything.” What’s he got planned? She wants to ask him but blurts out, “I didn’t figure you like gossip. And Bobby will be pretty angry at you if you ruin his surprise.” “Well,” he hops up on the window sill and raises his eyebrows pointedly at her, “since he’s not being very creative, it’s his own fault.” “Don’t tell me,” her hand flies up and she smiles, “I kinda like surprises.” “Then you’ll like this one.” He pauses and sounds very sarcastic when he adds, “Definitely.” She lingers by the window sill, staring out of the glass over his shoulder and doesn’t like how quickly they both can get so quiet. “When’s he coming?” “Not for a while, so you’re stuck with me.” “Because I can’t take care of myself?” she didn’t mean it to come out so bitterly, but she’s said that sentence so many times now that it only comes out in one format. “Is he coming at all? Don’t lie.” “Of course he’s coming, he’s Bobby.” John explains as if that should tell her everything, and it does. Trusty and reliable, that’s Bobby, kind of like a dog. She bites her bottom lip and holds back a smile because she knows John will probably laugh if she tells him that she compared him to a dog. Come to think of it, it might even have been John that put that thought in her head from the start. “You heard about Dr. Grey, right?” he breaks the ice and it makes sense since he hates awkward silences. But it’s still weird; striking a conversation with John who Marie only had exchanged spiteful comments with before Alkali Lake and Bobby’s house, and now…they’re making small talk, and she kind of likes how it feels. She isn’t sure what it feels like, not yet, but at least he is someone she can talk to. At least he didn’t sit on his bike and drive miles to get away from her. “Kind of hard to miss the gossiping that goes around here.” He nods knowingly and asks, “Jubilee, huh?” and is greeted with an almost identical nod from her, except she has a sad smile on her face and he just looks bored. Marie bets he has the lighter in his pocket right now and he’s itching to bring it out and burn something; his fingers are tapping restlessly against his thighs. Why he won’t take the light out right now, she doesn’t know, and she doubts he isn’t doing it so he won’t look a gentleman. “Look, promise me you’ll act surprised when Bobby gets here, okay?” he changes the topic real fast but she just nods her head dumbly at what he said. She doesn’t actually know what Bobby is planning and why, but she knows how to put on a shocked expression when it’s needed. What is interesting though, is how John has to be assured that she won’t screw this up, as if it’ll be his ass on the line if she accidentally slips out a small laugh when Bobby catches up with her. No matter how much space John takes up in her head, he’s still unreadable sometimes. “Scout’s honor. You don’t need to worry, John.” What’s your real name, John? She freezes at Magneto’s voice lingering in her head, speaking to John through a distant memory that still glows through all the darker and heavier ones. She briefly wonders if she should start calling him Pyro instead, like everyone calls her Rogue and not Marie, but she’s scared. Scared that maybe it’ll trigger something in him that’ll make him turn bad or something, and it sounds pretty ridiculous to her. But she’s seen what he can do, and she can feel what he’s been thinking and his true curiosity from that night when he was close to joining The Brotherhood. He’s capable of it, she’s sure, and it would be too dangerous to let that out. “You look like you’re having an aneurism from thinking too hard,” he comments with a smirk and gets her full attention. She looks annoyed and rolls her eyes a bit, not even bothering with telling him to shut up because she knows he won’t. “Do you always get off being such a jackass?” “Ouch, harsh words,” he replies jokingly, and looking like he’s actually enjoying being called a jackass by his best friend’s girlfriend. “A lot of things get me off, Rogue,” he continues and she blushes, “but being a jackass is just an added bonus.” Of course a lot of things get him off, she thinks; she has his memories after all, and he is a teenage boy. She needs to stop thinking about John and sex in the same sentence right now because her face is beet red and John won’t stop grinning at her. His shoulders are slightly shaking and he’s letting out a small chuckle, probably trying hard to hold back laughing. She supposes that this is how it’ll always be like; John is the outrageous one who talks about sex and obviously enjoys every second of it, and Marie is the little virginal southerner girl, who will never get to touch anyone, let alone have sex. Depressing, that’s what it is. She sighs, turning around to lean against the wall with John watching her move around. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he says completely unnecessarily. “Sure you didn’t.” she turns her head around to look at him and she gives him a saucy smile just to show him that she isn’t that easily affected by him and his stupid words. His eyes flicker down to her lips for a second and then he lifts his head up a bit, watching her face as she blushes, yet again. “Go to the library.” John then says out of the blue, now staring out of the window and looking bored again. “What?” He sighs, “Bobby wants me to make up a reason for you to go to the library. Go…go get me a book or something, will you?” And she raises an eyebrow at him and doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed all of a sudden, why he feels so annoyed with just waving her away and ending their conversation. “But…” “Do you want to ruin his surprise?” No, she doesn’t. She waits a few seconds to see if he’ll actually look at her and he does finally, just to give her a glare that says ‘Get the fuck out of here’ so she leaves pretty quickly. Bobby’s in the library with roses and an unsure and nervous smile. Like a reflex, Marie bounces into his arms and places her head on his chest and smells his cologne and feels his muscles ripple beneath the layers of clothes and skin. He tells her he really likes her and she’s about to ask what the fuss is all about when he congratulates her, them. Six months anniversary and she had been too distracted to remember. She quickly covers her shock and gives him a fleeting smile; letting him lead her to the table he had set up for them with a dinner for two. “I hope you didn’t see it coming,” he says shyly and takes her gloved hand it’s so damn romantic that Marie almost doesn’t know what to do. “Complete surprise, sugar.” - Marie didn’t use to be a stalker, so she thinks it’s either Magneto or maybe Logan who’s the one making her sneak into the danger room to watch the new student work out. From what she’s heard, the new student is Remy LeBeau and he’s apparently quite the charmer according to Kitty. Marie has heard from Ororo that Remy is also from the south and is a pretty good combat fighter, which only piqued Marie’s curiosity into starting her little espionage mission. She won’t turn this into a habit; getting out of her way to spy on someone just because she’s too damn impatient to wait and see what everyone’s talking about. She had spotted Remy walking down the corridor and taking a left turn towards the elevator leading to the danger room and on an impulse Marie had just followed him. And now he’s in the middle of the empty danger room with just one punching bag hanging in the middle and…she kind of expected something, well, more. He’s just standing there, his trench coat is still on and he’s touching something in his pockets and looks like he’s contemplating something. She’s standing on the other side of a door that has a window on it, and it gives her the excellent chance of peeking in on him without getting caught. And if getting caught, another excellent chance on her being able to run away without him catching up. Her back is up against the wall and her head is just slightly turned to peek at him through the glass; she knows that if she makes any sudden movements that she’ll probably be discovered. That, and other small tid bits on being a good hunter is stored in her head thanks to Logan, and she feels she can start a class called “A Hunter and It’s Prey 101”. Well, in this case, she owes a thank you to Logan for teaching her a thing or two about not getting caught, so she won’t complain. C’mon, c’mon, she chanted inwardly at the guy, thinking all he’s good for is just standing idly by with a cocky grin on his face. And then suddenly Remy takes out a short stick from his coat and Marie has to admit; she did not see that one coming. He presses on a button that’s on the stick that looks like it’s made of iron and it grows three times its length and he swings it around his fingers, hands, gracefully and the movements are beautiful in thin air. He starts bashing the punching bag ruthlessly, and it swings around back and forth, unstoppable and fast from the massive power behind each blow. Remy casts a glance up at someone up by the Control Room and suddenly there’s twenty or more guards occupying the room, which suddenly looks like it’s taken straight out of a Rambo movie. Remy can’t look more prepared and poised for this even if he tried, and coolly and calmly with carefully laid out motions and planned strikes he takes them all out, two by two and sometimes three by three. In between knocking them with the stick, he throws out what looks like cards that are on fire at the guards, and they all explode when crashing into them. It’s mesmerizing. Beautiful in all its chaos and killing, and Remy looks so damn sure of himself as he does his thing that she wants to get to know him. “Funny, I sort of figured he’d be a tool.” She’s startled and hops up an inch at John’s voice behind her. From the loud noises of explosions in the danger room, Remy won’t notice her anyway. “John!” He smiles calmly at her, seeming satisfied that he managed to catch her off guard. “So spying is one of your new favourite hobbies, or am I missing something here?” “I feel like I should be asking you that,” she snaps back and watches him warily. “What are you doing here?” “Spying,” he replies simply and grins hugely, and now she knows where she got her sudden espionage streak from. She wonders why she hasn’t noticed it before. “Oh,” she had hoped she would’ve come up with something a bit brighter. “So what’s the guy doing in there?” John looked past Marie through the window and saw explosions and random soldiers flying through the air. “Looks like a scene from Terminator.” “Just waving his big stick around, knocking the soldier’s out,” and yes, she wants to giggle from the double entendre, so she does. John just stares at her in disbelief and then finally cracks a smile himself. “A big stick can sure come in handy.” He mutters and stares out at Remy. “Especially if it’s as big as his,” she says back while also looking at Remy and she can feel John’s eyes suddenly on her and she forces herself to not look back. Instead she just smirks. Score one to the virginal southerner. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on this guy,” John continues and jokes, “he’s all show but probably just an idiot when you get to know him.” She gives John a weird look. “Nah,” she then drawls and smirks, “I think he’s more your type, actually.” “How so?” She holds back a giant grin as she looks at John’s surprised face and says, “Something about him being a tool, I think. Or maybe it was him being an idiot?” He lets out a sigh and his mouth curls up a bit, “Funny,” he comments sarcastically and looks at her kindly. It’s a really odd thing for him to do, but she’s getting more and more used to it. “I tend to be, yes.” “And humble, too,” he adds with a smirk and watches her mouth form into a small pout and then his eyes are back on Remy. “Looks like he’s already done.” “What?” She looks back at Remy and sure enough, he is giving the thumbs up to whoever is operating the control room while he’s taking the last steps towards the door where they are standing and – “Oh, shit.” Marie breaths a second before the door flings open and John, her and Remy all stand there quietly, staring at each other in surprise. “Nice show,” John comments with very little warmth in his voice and Remy gives him a smile. “I don’t believe we have met,” he says to John with a thick, southern accent and then turns to Marie who’s busy blushing and wishing she was anywhere but here. “My name is Remy LeBeau.” He holds out his hand at Marie and she takes it quietly and suddenly he’s actually kissing her gloved hand like a…gentleman and it feels so weird because she’s not used to this kind of behaviour. He winks at her charmingly and won’t stop smiling and she thinks she can get used to having Remy around the mansion. John is completely silent and Marie’s grateful for that. She’s not grateful, however, for that he’s around to hear her stutter like an idiot. “I’m, uh, I’m Rogue.” She pauses, not knowing what to say, “And that’s John.” “Ah, Rogue, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Remy turns to tell John, “and you as well, Johnny. I’ll see you both some other time.” Marie nods and her lips are in a thin line, John still not speaking. While Remy walks away he gives Marie a hot look while saying, “maybe you can come watch me practise again next week?” and doesn’t even stay to watch her blush even more. “So kissing your hand is all it takes for a guy to get in your pants?” John says coolly from her side, earning a glare from her. “Figuratively speaking, of course.” “You’re an asshole,” she snaps and walks away angrily. - “I’m trying to help you here, girl!” Jubilee pleads Marie as she dangles Logan’s dog tag from her hand. “This is not healthy, and as your friend and roommate it’s my duty to tell you that this has gone too far.” “It’s just something he told me to hold on to!” Marie defends herself and sits down on her bed, covering her face with her hands. “Please don’t make a big deal out of this, Jubes.” It’s clear that Jubilee is doing her best to not yell at Marie; she’s clenching her teeth shut and her nostrils are flaring and she tries to sound evenly when she says, “Honey. He gave you the dog tag years ago and you gave them back to him. And then he threw it away and you went back to that godforsaken lake to find it.” She pauses to see if Marie will say anything, and she doesn’t. “I’m getting worried here.” “It’s not that simple,” Marie mutters back. “How long have you had the dog tag? When did you get back to the lake?” Marie stares pointedly at her friend and snaps, “I’d rather not discuss this, Jubes. Let it go.” “No, you let it go! He’s gone and yeah, I can understand if you’re feeling a bit sad about that, I really can. But hanging onto this?” She dangles the dog tag again for emphasis and Marie stands up and tries to grab it back, to no avail, “That’s just false hope. Okay? You need to move on because Logan has, the moment he threw this away. Does he know you have it?” Marie finally gets a hold of the tag when Jubes got tired of seeing her friend reach for them so desperately, “No, he doesn’t. Jubilee, you -“ “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” If stalking and sneaking around is a profession, it’s something John definitely should look into. He’s standing by the door, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and looking like he has planned on interrupting them, and that his diabolical plan is running smoothly. Marie, for once, is grateful over his random appearance and gives out a sigh of relief. Then, worried over what he might’ve heard, she suddenly tenses up. “Go away, fireball,” Jubilee snaps at John tiredly and watches Marie put the dog tag into the pocket of her jeans. “Charming, as always,” John replies to Jubilee and looks at Marie, “Monroe’s looking for you downstairs.” “She is?” With a simple nod, John clears the way for the door and says, “Better get going before she looses her patience.” “Oh,” she looks at Jubilee who now just looks defeated and angry, “I’m sorry Jubes, I – we’ll talk later, okay?” Jubilee’s face turns soft at her friend’s warm voice and she let out a small smile. “Sure thing, chica,” she answers, looking like she wants to add something more that has a bit more anger to it, but she’s always had a soft spot for Marie. Marie then leaves and John rushes up next to her, walking down the staircase with her as he says, “Looks like I missed a pretty good chick fight.” Marie sighs. “Where’s Ms. Munroe?” “Oh, I think she’s in a meeting with Hank or something,” John grins and winks at her, “but you can thank me later for saving you from Jubilee.” Marie stops walking, standing in the middle of the stairs and glares at John in shocked anger. She wants to call him an asshole again – thinking he won’t take it to heart, like he never does – and she wants to let him know that she hates the way he gets under her skin and butts in her life when she doesn’t need him to, but the truth is that she’s relieved. She doesn’t want to go back to Jubilee right now and fight over Logan and she doesn’t want to know how Jubilee even found the dog tag in the first place. Her glare slowly turns into an odd look with narrowed eyes and a tiny smile and she says, “I won’t thank you.” He shrugs lightly and walks down the stairs until he reaches the main door that leads out to the estate grounds, “Whatever,” he says while Marie idly follows him, “want to go out and have some fun?” “Define ‘fun’.” For all she knows (and she does), fun for John can mean blowing stuff up and almost getting arrested, or doing something else that means lots of fire and usually ends with a meeting with the Professor. “I don’t want to set the lawn on fire or anything.” He laughs at her worrying and assures her, “Don’t worry; I’ll stick to your level of fun. You like to eat, don’t you?” He opens the door and she walks through it, appreciating the sun that covers her face and immediately warms her up. “Of course, I’m from the south.” “Well, then how about we head to the closest diner and get some food?” he tries, watching her reaction carefully, “How does that sound?” Weird, she thinks, it definitely sounds weird. “We have a kitchen, you know.” “Yeah, but I just figured you might want to get away from everybody here.” He pauses and when she doesn’t say anything he adds, “I know I do. What do you say?” Well, it doesn’t sound so terrible when he puts it like that. “Uh, sure.” They’re walking to the side of the mansion, sneaking out under a couple of trees until they reach a tall fence. And here comes the fire, Marie notes when John throws a small ball of fire at the iron fence and melts it enough so there’s a hole for them to climb through to the other side. “I promise there will be no more fires today,” he tells her when they’re on the other side, “unless you ask for it.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Marie replies dryly and they walk until they reach the road where a cab is waiting. “Did you plan this?” “I was going to go with or without you,” he tells her and raises an eyebrow, “and you’re free to walk a couple of miles if you feel like it.” Later when they’re sitting in the back of the cab, Marie looks at John next to her who’s slouched down in his seat, staring out of the window at all the trees they’re passing. She doesn’t know if she wants to interrupt whatever he’s thinking about, but this situation is just so new to her that she’s sure that whatever she does, she’ll screw it up anyway. “John,” she starts and he acknowledges her by raising his eyebrows at the scenery outside, “did you ask Bobby to come?” He turns his head to look at her and she thinks he has some kind of excuse, something about how Bobby wouldn’t dare to sneak off grounds (because he wouldn’t, and Marie will believe that) but instead he just says, “Nope.” And then he smirks just a little at the look on her face and goes back to watching the trees. She figures she should be mad at him, but normally she’d be mad at him already when he lied to her about Ms. Munroe. So much has changed between them that she isn’t sure what she shouldn’t expect from him anymore. To make things simple she stops thinking altogether and just goes along for the ride. It’s bound to get interesting anyway. - “Still think I’m an asshole?” If he thinks she can forget all about what he said earlier by paying for a huge piece of chocolate cake for her, he’s an idiot. And even more, if that’s his way of apologizing…well, then, maybe she’ll think about it. He’s not the apologizing type and if this is him showing a hint of remorse over something he’s said then maybe she’ll consider it because this is pretty rare. “I thought you liked being called an asshole,” she grins back at him because her chocolate cake tastes so damn good, and she doesn’t have to let him have any of it because he owes her this. The diner they’re in is filled with people but they found a booth in a corner at the very end of the room so people won’t bump into them while walking around. John’s eating his burger in peace and Marie ordered pasta so she won’t have to take off her gloves while eating, and on top of that John ordered three kinds of pies and a chocolate cake to come with the food. Marie didn’t complain, but forgot all about the pasta and dove straight for the cake and pies instead, which earned her a chuckle from John. “I guess,” John tells her, “if the right people are calling me it.” She narrows her eyes at him, chewing away. “You’re weird.” Maybe she’s one of the right people? She pushes the ridiculous thought away because it doesn’t mean anything anyway, and John would forever be a mystery to her so there’s no use in her trying to figure him out, at least not during a meal of cake and pie in some local diner. “Not much weirder than everybody else,” he points out and gives Marie a curious look. She remembers her fight with Jubilee, and wonders how much John actually heard of it… And if he’ll continue being an asshole by telling Bobby whatever it was he heard. “Look…I – I don’t know how much you heard from my fight with Jubilee, but –“ “Dog tags, something about false hope.” He eats the last of his French fries and brushes the salt from his hands on his pants. “Can I have some pie or are you going to hog that too?” She shakes her head distractedly and he starts eating the apple pie. “You’re going to tell Bobby, aren’t you? About the fight?” “I don’t even know what the fuck the fight was about,” he says gruffly with pie in his mouth and it looks so funny to see John trying to sound annoyed with crumbs around his mouth. “Are dog tags euphemism for something romantic or girly?” Marie snorts and mutters, “I wish.” “Well, if Bobby’s too dumb to figure out by himself then he doesn’t deserve to know.” He pauses and thinks about what he said, then cracks a smile. “That sounds like a nice motto to live by, doesn’t it?” “You are a wise one, John Allerdyce,” Marie comments dryly and takes another bite of her chocolate cake. “I didn’t know you knew my last name,” she hears him say and she tries to remember the time she found out about it…at the Drake’s house. Oh. “Um, I looked through your personal files?” she lies; she doesn’t feel like this is a conversation she’d like to be having. “We don’t have personal files, Marie.” Not many people call her that, mainly because she introduces herself as Rogue out of habit. Logan’s the only one who actually calls her Marie and she never really got around to telling him to do otherwise. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We can both go by two names and it’s like we have two complete separate personalities to go with them,” she rambles nervously, very aware of John’s scrutinizing eyes following hers. “Maybe more like…one and a half personalities,” John kids around with a serious look on his face, and she knows what it is he’s about to ask – “It’s from when you touched me, right? At Bobby’s house?” “Hmm?” “That’s why you know my last name. I’m pretty sure no one else but the Professor knows about it.” John stares at her hard and she can’t look away from his heated eyes, so she just nods. “And that’s why you’ve been watching so much sports lately,” he continues, looking as if he’s figured this out months ago but just decided to bring this up now. “Actually,” she says, “I think the sport thing also comes from, um, Logan. At least hockey and wrestling.” John nods slowly and goes back to his pie, still contemplating what Marie just said. “So what did you get from Bobby?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, he won’t shut up about the kiss you two had at his house. What weird personality trait did you get from that?” She pauses and thinks about the question and…she can’t actually think of any, from the top of her head. The more she thinks about it, the less it seems as if she and Bobby have actually touched, but maybe that shouldn’t be such a big surprise. Compared to Magneto, Logan or John, Bobby is the most calm and ‘normal’ one that she’s ever touched. Compared to the others, Bobby’s the one without a passion, without something that drives him to do outrageous things. Magneto strives to make the world accept mutants for who they are and is willing to kill humans along the way to do it, while Logan can be a beast when he wants to and has that constant feeling inside of wanting to go out and hunt and hurt. And John, he just wants to use his powers all the time, in whatever way he likes it, and when people tells him that he’s not allowed to do certain things something in him boils with fury and his hands grow hot. He hides so much anger inside of him that Marie thinks he’s about to explode sometimes and maybe torch down the mansion too, and run far away before the professor could catch him. But Bobby, he follows the rules and he’s so quiet in her head that she forgets that he’s even there; when he wants to say something, his voice is a whisper compared to Magneto’s demanding voice or John’s snide remarks. “He’s the quietest one, actually,” she finally tells John and leans back in her seat. Something flickers past John’s eyes and she can tell that he’s curious about the other people in her head, but something holds him back to ask about Magneto or Logan. “I guess this means you know all my dirty little secrets, huh?” “Some,” she smiles and forbids herself to blush, “but not all are that dirty.” He chuckles, “So this will make it harder for me to lie to you? Is that how it works?” “Well, I’m not a walking and talking lie detector,” she tells him with a raised eyebrow, “but I know you and what you would normally do in certain situations. Like, if you start being nice to Piotr or start giving Kitty some help with her homework, then I’ll know that something is up with you.” “I don’t think you’d be the only one thinking that if I ever started helping her with her homework,” he explains and grins some more. “But I get your point.” “I know you do.” Some people share a nice moment with a smile, but John and Marie smirks at each other knowingly and he shakes his head, amused, and eats more pie. “It’s weird,” John finally says after a moment of silence where Marie had been busy watching the other people in the diner. “What is?” “The person who knows me the best is…an oversensitive, southern girl with lethal skin,” he jokes, but underneath the layers of humor he’s being pretty serious. “I’m trying to see that as a compliment,” she smiles back at him and then gets quiet. He continues eating his pie, never seeming to get full from all the junk food, and she says quietly, “Life is pretty weird that way.” - Bobby looks like he wants to kiss her again, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he tries. They’re both lying on his bed – granted, not the best place to be at if you don’t want your boyfriend to kiss you - with Bobby leaning on his elbow, watching over her as she lies on her back and stares up at him. Bobby tends to get really quiet sometimes and just whispers stupid things to her, and not things that would suggest he’d want to do anything that would be considered naughty. She’s sort of amazed over how well he holds back around her. Not that she looks at herself as sex on legs or anything. But Bobby’s still a teenage boy who risked his own health just to get a kiss from his girlfriend once, and she’s seen the looks he gives her when she reaches up to a shelf to get something and her waist is exposed. But the only times he lets her know that he wants to get close to her is when he hugs her or plants a kiss on top of her head, which just makes her feel like her big brother is giving her a goodbye kiss before going off to college. And now he looks at her like that again; like he wants to kiss her so badly and this is the perfect moment for it, but he holds back. This time he doesn’t even try to coax her into giving him one small kiss, this time he just settles for wanting and staring into her eyes instead. She wonders if he knows that this is frustrating for her as well; she wants to kiss him, she wants to feel skin against skin and that little jolt of rush she felt in her gut at Bobby’s house. But she also wants to live with a conscience clean from ever hurting Bobby, so she just taps her gloved fingers playfully on his arm by her side, and waits for something to happen. “So do you think that,” Bobby suddenly says a bit quietly, raising his eyebrows at her, “they’ll get a new teacher for physics or something?” That was so not what Marie was expecting him to say. “Um, you mean instead of Jean?” “Yeah, but I heard the Professor is taking some time off now, so maybe we’ll get some fresh meat,” he jokes half heartedly and probably refers some poor substitute’s ass as meat. Marie has a vague memory of John and Bobby constantly talking about Jean Grey’s ass right before going to bed and whoa – so do not need to go there now, Marie. “I’d rather not talk or think about physics,” Marie’s face scrunched up, “especially during the weekend.” “Aw, c’mon,” he chuckles, “it’s my favorite class.” “Yeah, because of Jean’s butt,” she says before stopping herself and the air suddenly gets tense and Bobby avoids her eyes. Speaking about Jean seems like a great tragedy it seems, since she still hasn’t woken up and the mansion is just getting more and more quiet and weary by the days that she’s gone. Because when she’s gone, the professor in a way is too, though he puts on one hell of an act to prove to the students that he’s still in charge. “I kinda like the subject,” Bobby continues, carefully not mentioning Jean, “it’s interesting.” “And you’re real good at it,” she adds so that Bobby would forget her previous comment and smiles at her with a blushing face, “I bet that’s the reason, too.” “Well, then what’s your favorite subject?” She doesn’t have to think about it, but she pretends she does because this conversation is not the one she had in mind when she came to visit Bobby a few hours earlier. Bobby’s naiveté is endearing and cute but at the same time frustrating and tiresome, but she refuses to get annoyed at him for it. How can she, when he smiles at her like that? “Well,” she parrots him, “I kinda like English Literature -” He’s about to answer when there’s a knock on the door. Before Bobby tells whoever it is to come in, John walks in and immediately stalks towards his desk where he starts going through his drawers silently while looking pretty pissed off. “I’ll be out of here in a sec,” he tells them as he keeps going through his stuff, obviously looking for something. “Good,” Bobby replies with a smug grin and lies back on his back so he won’t be seen as the awkward kid hovering over his girlfriend. Marie is pretty sure John will mock him for it later, but that just comes with the territory for when you’re friends with guys like John. Still, something is off with him. He’s going through his drawers with a determined look, but when he can’t find what he’s looking for he curses silently. Something tells Maries that he isn’t cursing because he can’t find anything, he’s cursing because he needs to let it out and that he’s really fucking angry – she can tell by his body posture, facial expression, the way he tries really hard not to set the desk on fire, that something weird is going on with him. Bobby continues to stare up at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on his chest obliviously. Marie sits up on the bed and looks at John with a frown. “What are you looking for?” she finally asks John, who just grunts in response. “Nothing, just…” he pauses and gives her a look that she can’t decipher; it’s a look that she’s pretty sure that he’s actually never given her before, and it scares her. Worry, mixed with annoyance and maybe even a bit of dread. It doesn’t really suit him, and that’s what scares her the most. She wants to ask him what’s wrong. As if he can read her thoughts, he miraculously finds a book at the bottom of a drawer and grabs a pencil from the desk, declaring, “Found it,” and then quickly rushes out of the room. Bobby smiles up at Marie and their reversed positions. “What was that about?” she asks him, leaning down on her elbows. “I don’t know. He’s pretty grumpy once you get to know him, and I can’t really tell his Grumpy Mood and Pissed Off Mood apart. They just kind of…all blend together, you know?” he looks thoughtful at what he just said, and Marie thinks that maybe Bobby and John aren’t as close as she thought they are. “He can’t be grumpy all the time,” Marie drawls, urging Bobby to tell her more. Bobby pauses and narrows his eyes, “Nah, of course not. But his bad mood really gets to you, you know? Because he’s so…” “Closed off?” she tries and he looks at her in surprise and says, “Yeah, exactly.” - She cannot stop thinking about it. Sitting in her bed with unfinished homework over her lap, she can’t focus on geometry right now because John is taking up all her thoughts, and not in the usual way. She doesn’t feel suffocated by people holding her down, she doesn’t feel the sudden pull towards sneaking out of the mansion and burn stuff up – she just really wants to know what was going on with him before. She goes through a list of things – his parents, his old friends. He got kicked out at a young age and had to take care of himself and holds a grudge against everyone he used to know and doesn’t even use his last name anymore, and it’s understandable. But that can’t be it, because this was something new and something that happened recently…And then it hits her. His birthday is coming up, and the one thing he hates about his birth is that once every year, people for some reason want to congratulate him for it. Maybe that’s the reason why the only people who knows about it are Bobby and the professor, and now Marie because she happened to touch him that one time. He’s even made Bobby promise not to tell anyone about it, although that was almost three years ago when he first showed up at the mansion and Bobby had practically begged John to tell him, but Bobby is still holding that promise. When she later sits in the living room, watching some wrestling and absently thinking about Logan and if he’s doing something resembling wrestling right that moment, she spots John walking across the room to an empty chess table. He stares at the pawns with resent – he hates the game, doesn’t see a point with it at all – and then a moment later he pulls out his lighter and Marie thinks he’s going to rebel against chess player across the world by burning up all pawns, one by one. But instead he just starts flicking the lighter, opening and shutting it so that irritating click noise soon enough occupies the entire room and gets the attention of the few people in there. After contemplating how fast the pawns would melt if he hit them with several small flames, John pulls out a pocket book from his bag on the floor and starts flipping through the trashy romance novel. It’s an odd sight, seeing John reading about damsels in distress with pale skin and a lust for vampires, but it doesn’t shock her because she knows about his little guilty pleasure. She finds it kind of endearing, actually, and it’s a risky thing for him to do, taking out the book in public like that. She turns the TV off and silently walks over to him before he has a chance to get into the book that has a woman with vampire teeth on the cover, and a long haired man with a pale face hovering over her neck with his hands covering her waist and hips. He barely registers that she’s there, but he knows it’s her so he doesn’t bother covering up what he’s reading. The room is pretty much deserted anyway, so he doesn’t have to worry about getting caught. “What is it?” he asks her, finally puts the book down when it’s clear that she won’t be leaving. She stands by the other chair, her hand idly tracing invisible patterns on the wood with her gloved fingers and thinking hard over how she can bring his birthday up without him getting angry. “Whatcha readin’?” she tries innocently and only gets a stare in reply. “You know what I’m reading.” “Is it any good?” He sighs and leans over the table on his elbows, staring up at her with anger in his eyes. “Look, don’t talk about it, don’t tell anybody, and don’t mention it to me, okay? I’ve done a pretty good job hiding it from everybody before you came along, so don’t mess it up.” Does he mean the book or the birthday? Well, probably both. She looks back at him silently, not knowing the correct reply to something like that. “I’m not going to tell people it’s your birthday,” she finally says, “but I just figured you’d want, I don’t know…” she pauses and even though he looks really pissed off she quickly adds, “Happy birthday.” “Gee, thanks,” he puts on the fakest smile she’s ever seen and his words oozes of sarcasm. As dismissing her, he starts reading his book again and she takes the hint and leaves. There’s someone stubborn in her head and she doesn’t mind whoever it is, because now she’s sneaking into Logan’s door to grab a bottle from his secret stash of alcohol. He keeps them hidden in his closet, that idiot, and she also grabs a cigar from his drawer. She feels impulsive and rebellious, so she thinks John will on some level appreciate what she’s about to do. An exhilarating rush goes through her when she puts the bottle of scotch in her schoolbag and hides the cigar in her pocket, and then her eyes freezes at a calendar on Logan’s desk. He doesn’t have a lot of things in his room, but one of the few things is a calendar that Marie had put in his room the first time he left the mansion. She wanted him to use it solely for the purpose of gaining some kind of upper hand with him; thinking that if he started writing down the dates when he left and returned, maybe he’d feel a little bit guilty over what he was doing. But, obviously he wasn’t feeling very guilty at all, because when Marie flips through the calendar she sees that it’s completely untouched. It was a pretty stupid idea for someone like Logan, but Marie used her own calendar that summer he was gone and she knew the exact amount of days he wasn’t with her. She doesn’t know why she still hopes for some kind of miracle with him, not when he makes her feel this stupid and childish most of the times. Something in her starts to choke and she holds back tears, feeling her chest tighten. As if he doesn’t think about her at all, doesn’t care what she thinks or what she does for him. The calendar might not be solid proof of that, but it sets her head straight on what is going on. Digging out the dog tag from under her shirt, she takes it off violently, nearly ripping it off, and places it in an empty drawer on the desk; hoping he’d find it one day and maybe feel that guilt that the calendar was supposed to cause. She is done waiting, she realizes, and it makes her angry and gloomy at the same time, but taking Logan’s booze and cigars helps a bit. She grabs a stronger hold of her bag and leaves the room quickly, shutting the door tight after herself and getting ready to plan for tonight. - It’s past curfew but she’s sure John isn’t asleep yet. When she knocks on his door quietly, her bag thrown over her shoulder and holding back a stupid grin, he answers in his clothes and doesn’t look tired at all though it’s almost 2 AM. “What are you doing here?” he whispers frantically. She frowns at his worry over being heard and whispers back, “Came to celebrate your birthday, stupid,” and she lets that grin out when she sees the look on his face. Pure surprise, but he doesn’t look angry at all. That’s a good sign. He lets out a sigh and watches her as if he’s annoyed, but surprised that she’d so something like that. “Of course you are”, he mutters mostly to himself. “Tell Bobby to get his ass out here and we’ll start some celebrating’,” she lifts her bag for emphasis and lets him take a peek at the bottle; “I’ve already got what we need.” This is when John almost looks uncomfortable for a moment before he closes the door quietly and stands out in the hallway with Marie. “He’s sleeping. It’s kind of late, in case you haven’t noticed.” “So what?” Marie chuckles, “Wake him up and we’ll get going.” “I can’t.” She stares at him blankly for a second. “Why?” “Because…” John looks a bit guilty when he says, “We just came back from our own little…celebration. He’s passed out in his bed and I don’t even think Monster Trucks driving across the front lawn will wake him up.” She feels a pang of disappointment because she has been planning on doing this with Bobby and John, and they’d have fun and maybe even have something to talk about in the future. She must look like she’s feeling because suddenly John looks really remorseful too, until something changes and he gives her a smirk instead. “You know, just because Bobby can’t hold his liquor doesn’t mean I can’t.” “You…” Marie stutters, “You—We—But—You and…Me?” He looks amused, which he should since she sounded stupid even to herself. She closed her eyes briefly and tries to sound less like a thirteen year old girl this time, “I mean, okay. Yeah.” “You sure?” He cocks an eyebrow mockingly, “Because we can always wake up Jubilee if you don’t want to be alone with me.” She doesn’t know what to say, and yet the first thing she thinks of comes out of her mouth. “But you don’t like Jubilee, and it’s your night,” she says and he nods appreciatively. “Sounds perfect,” he comments and she can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not, “Lead the way, Rogue.” - They don’t go far at all. In fact, the place Marie leads them to is the roof where there some kids usually go during the summer to sunbathe. Maybe John had expected them to sneak out and go to some seedy bar, but Marie can only take breaking one rule per night – though she is sure that if she spends more time with John she won’t mind sneaking out. There are a couple of chairs and a picnic table under a lamppost, and the sole reason Marie chose this spot is because it’s pretty. When she was new at the mansion she used to sneak up to the roof to catch the sunrise all by herself, because it was one thing she could identify doing as Marie, not Rogue. While growing up in Meridian, watching the sunrise and sunsets became almost sacred to her; it was something she tried to do as often as possible just so that she’d have a thing that would be hers alone, that no one could take away. Ironically she then discovered her mutant power and she finally did have something that was just hers alone and no one could take away. They both take a seat next to each other, facing the end of the roof so they have a view over a black hole of nothingness. Well, kind of. When the morning comes, the front lawn will light up and they will be able to see all the trees and the garage but for now they’ll have to settle to see little bulbs randomly placed out on the grass, where the lampposts stands. “And before you complain,” Marie says, putting the bottle of the table in front of them and then kneeling down to take out two blankets from her bag, “here’s something to keep you from getting cold.” The man can manipulate fire, for god’s sake; maybe he doesn’t really need a blanket to hold him warm, but she tosses it at his head anyway. “You thought of everything.” “I was once a scout, you know,” she decides to share this tidbit with him and sits down in her chair with the bottle in hand, “when I was growing up.” “Huh,” he grins at that and takes the bottle from her hand without asking if he can, “Good to know you’ll always know the safety protocol for setting up your tent without getting caught up in it.” She grins along, watching him take the first sip from the bottle and flinching at the taste. “And how to start a fire with sticks,” she adds and feels the urge to suddenly wink at him cheekily but she holds back. She knows that one of the things John wants to change about his power, if he could, would be the fact that he can create fire along with controlling it. That would give him the ultimate feeling of power and that’s a scary thought, being in absolute control over something so dangerous and unpredictable. But, she thinks, he probably doesn’t know that most people already consider him that. Dangerous and unpredictable. He hands her the bottle back and seems really interested to see how well she can take a sip of scotch, and she does her best to surprise him. She manages to hold back the gurgling and coughing that so desperately wants to come out, until she finally lets go and nearly falls off the chair from grimacing and coughing so much. It reminds her of the first time she ever smoked – it was one of Logan’s cigars not too long ago – but luckily she was alone back then so no one could witness it and laugh like John is doing right now. “Didn’t you find anything lighter?” he asks between fits of laughs and she puts the bottle down on the table. “Logan only drinks scotch and beer, and I hate beer.” She grimaces and adds, “I thought I’d give scotch a try, but….” She grimaces some more to emphasize her disliking of scotch. He calms down next to her, setting his feet up at the table in front of them and covers his waist and legs with the blanket that was lying in a heap on his lap. “He won’t notice you steal his stuff while he’s gone?” “Oh, he notices,” she suddenly smiles sadly, “but he doesn’t mind much.” Because he feels damn guilty over causing her his nightmares, his memories, his very detailed thoughts over how beautiful a woman’s ass can be if it its clad in nice, black leather. Feeling Logan in her head again, she has the sudden desire to light up a cigar. She takes it out of her pocket and places it in her mouth as if it’s something she does all the time, and looks at John expectantly, who just gapes at her. “What the fuck?” his mouth curls up a little, “You smoke?” She arches an eyebrow at him. “You’ve seen Logan and his cigars around the mansion haven’t you? He won’t go anywhere without them, and so now I can’t either.” He doesn’t say much else about it and she thinks it might be because he feels bad for her, for having another person in her head. Not that it makes sense – when has John ever showed her that he feels bad for her mutant power? If anybody would tell her to embrace her power and use it more it would be John, so that sympathetic look on his voice doesn’t match. Maybe he just wants to ask her more about it but something stops him; maybe the innocent look on her face tells him that she’s been asked so many times now by everybody else that she might be too tired and too sad by all of it to mention it again. Damn, her thoughts are getting disoriented and confusing and she’s not even tipsy. “He’s touched me twice,” she then tells John as he takes out his lighter out of his pocket, “so I’ve got an extra dose of him up there. It’s not that bad, though.” He lights her cigar silently, waiting for her to tell him more. Why she even brought it up, she doesn’t know, but it feels good talking about it and talking about Logan to somebody, because Jubilee doesn’t want to talk about it, she wants to yell. And Bobby gets angry and jealous when he’s mentioned and all the others couldn’t possibly understand how it was for Marie, to have someone she looks up to and sometimes feel as if she wants to be with, up in her head. To be brutally exposed to all his thoughts and memories that are proof enough that, yeah, he doesn’t think of her in that way at all and that he has his eyes set on a woman that’s way out of Marie’s league. The dog tag is up in his room by the calendar, she reminds herself, and grabs his bottle of scotch just to spite the man who isn’t even there right now. She takes a puff out of her cigar, takes it out of her mouth to sip more scotch, and manages to not cough this time. This time it’s easier for the bitter and burning liquid to run down her throat. “It must fucking suck,” John then tells her, “but…” “But what?” “Think of all the blackmail material.” He looks serious but he’s only kidding around, she hopes, although that does spark some interest in her. She grins at his comment, then it turns into a laugh and he joins in on her half-heartedly. “Who else is in your head?” She’s taken aback by the question but knows that he’s been dying to ask this for a long time now. She stares up at the empty black night sky when she replies, “Bobby, David…You and…” she flinches before saying, “Magneto.” “Who’s David?” A small smile creeps up on Marie’s face, totally unexpected. She’s used to having a grim face when being asked about him or when she’s forced to talk about her first experience with her mutant power, but this time she only gets pleasant memories of him in his head; David picking her up after school, spending long, lazy summer nights by a lake alone. She never knew before touching him that he sometimes sneaked out at night to go sit on one of his favorite spots by the lake, staring up at the sky and wishing he had the courage to ask Marie to maybe come along with him one night. “First boy I kissed,” she answers John and turns her head to look at him. She even blushes because she’s still the virginal southerner, but this time she doesn’t mind at all. “Must’ve been a memorable kiss if he ended up staying in your head.” “Yeah…” she says quietly, remembering how it felt draining him and how horrible it was to realize, too late, that she was hurting him. John takes another drink from the bottle and leans back in his chair, relaxing. “So, Magneto, huh?” She copies his pose and tries to relax, though the tension in her shoulders is doing their best to keep that from happening. She sighs and says, “It’s about time you asked.” “Well, I didn’t want to come off as rude,” he jokes and she gives him a grim smirk. “Liar.” He snickers quietly and waits a few seconds before talking again. He seems to be thinking hard over what to ask her, and at least he has the decency to understand that this isn’t one of Marie’s favorite subjects to talk about. “You know that I almost left with him, right?” Well, if she didn’t then this would’ve been one hell of a time to drop that bomb. She looks at him, showing no emotions, but inwardly she feels a bit betrayed by the fact that John almost left them just so that he could play more with his power than what he already was. But the point is that he didn’t go with Magneto and maybe that’s what Marie should be more focused at. “Yeah.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t know if she should tell him that she remembers him lying in the snow, clutching his head from the attack Stryker did against all mutants, and him standing up from the fall and walking slowly over to Magneto and Mystique’s plane. Him turning around and leaving after taking one step closer to them, but then remembering Bobby and the school and all the things that held him back. “So…” he fumbles for words but avoids eye contact, “do you…know what he’s thinking? Or what his intentions are or some shit? Things that come in handy when you save the world.” Marie snorts, “No, sadly. I guess the professor would see me as the freaking oracle if that was true.” He still looks like he wants to ask her something but he quickly covers it with a stoic look on his face. Too late, she thinks and looks at him. “What?” So he dives right in and asks, “So you don’t know if he wanted me to…join? What he thought about it?” She looks down at the cigar in her fingers, which she had kind of forgotten, and then takes a puff of it to waste some time. “No, I don’t.” But why would he want to know what that shithead thinks anyway? She wants to ask him so badly. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Squirming a bit in his seat, he takes another drink from the bottle and looking sour. Must be the best birthday ever. Well, compared to the ones he’s had before, it just might be. Once when he was a kid and hadn’t told his parents about his powers yet, they had put candles on his cake. When he was about to blow them out he must’ve triggered something with his powers because suddenly they had to call the fire department before the whole house would burn down. He got grounded, questioned, negotiated by his own parents and that was the last birthday he ever had. The year after that his parents treated the date as if it was something unholy and taboo. She knows it’s what he’s thinking about when he stares off into space while handing her the bottle. He has that blank look on his face with a hint of anger burning in his eyes, like a constant flame. He always looks angry in one way or another. “What did you and Bobby do?” He just shrugs easily at the question and answers, “Nothing much. He gave me a present.” When he says that his eyes are turned towards Marie and he looks incredulous and amused. Bobby always buys him a present and it’s usually something John hates and he just accepts it because it’s one of those few things that are constant in his life, that he is sure of will happen again and again – and that he likes. “What did he get you?” Marie asks, genuinely curious, wondering if Bobby has finally gotten any imagination when it comes to buying gifts. John bites his lip to hide his amusement and then raises his eyebrows when he answers, “He got me candles.” Marie’s eyes widen at that and he adds, “As a joke. I think.” Another pause. “I hope.” She laughs at his worried look and takes another drink from the bottle, getting warmer by the alcohol and feeling it slide down her throat to her belly. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, you know.” Another shrug. “Doesn’t matter. He made it up for me.” There’s an evil glint in his eye that Marie just finds funny and he winks at her. She thinks it’s the scotch and takes another drink. “He managed to score us tickets to some concert next week, and apparently they cost a lot. He wouldn’t stop talking about it.” “What concert?” John cracked a charming smile, “I don’t care,” he says, “I just want to get the hell out of here for a night.” Marie raises both her eyebrows as if she’s agreeing with him, and on some level she is. She feels suffocated at the mansion sometimes just like John does, but definitely not as often. She stays away from most people and doesn’t have a problem with the rules that are set up for them – and it’s the latter part that separates her from John. “Just make sure you won’t blow up any speakers or anything.” Marie puts on her best Concerned Mother face and sees him snicker at it, “You got it? I don’t want to see anything on the news.” She even goes as far as pointing at him sternly with the hand that she’s holding the bottle with, and the liquid rolls around in it like waves crashing against shores. “You’ve got my word,” he says quietly, so quietly that she thinks maybe it is John in her head that’s saying it and not John who’s sitting next to her with his feet up on the table. She loses count of how many hours they sit there, but when the sun starts to rise she knows it’s been at least three. She’s covered in her blanket almost from head to toe while sitting Indian style in her seat, and John is half sleeping in his with his one foot on the table and the other leg cramped under his thigh. If they were both not so dizzy and happy from the alcohol they would’ve felt awkward about the fact that John’s head is leaning against Marie’s shoulder, and she feels just fine with being a pillow for him. He has a content look plastered on his face and it’s contagious. Her eyes are fixed at the sunrise and she feels that pull of familiarity like she always does when she watches it and she thinks back of all the times she’s caught the sunrise before. She’s getting tired but doesn’t want to move just yet, and she watches the sky turn into beautiful colors before her eyes. She nudges her shoulders a bit, making John’s head bump up and down uncomfortably. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” she tells him and he huffs at her, opening his eyes. “I’ve already fallen asleep and woken up.” “Well good,” she tells him, “because then you won’t miss the sunrise.” In her head John growls, thinking that watching sunrises are for pussies, but then again he also got a freaking candle from Bobby so maybe it’s about time he started liking girly things more openly. She feels him sit up straight but still leans a bit against her with his own shoulder. A few hours ago she was worried he might come in contact with her skin but they had made sure the blanket would cover her entire arm as he leaned down on her and he wouldn’t have any more of her objections. “I used to catch the sunrise almost every day,” Marie tells him with sad nostalgia in her voice, “I’d wake up really early and make some tea and just…sit and stare.” John’s usually the other way around; staying up late enough to catch the sunrise and then sleeping until sunset. “You used to do a lot of things that you can’t do anymore,” he tells her sleepily but with clear intent. That’s right; she used to do a lot of things. Things she doesn’t want to name right now because it’ll only bring her down and it would tarnish this moment while watching the sunrise. She slowly turns her head to see what he is doing and is immediately met with his eyes, no longer half lidded from exhaustion, staring into hers. He looks unsure of himself, maybe even a little nervous, and she suddenly gets reminded of Bobby and just stares back at him. There’s a voice in her head that tells her that she’s about to get kissed, and that voice comes in handy for her to flinch back and stop it from happening. But John is telling her that it’s okay, she knows he loves the danger anyway, and suddenly he’s leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers. She is frozen to the spot, shocked and terrified but still manages throughout that to feel the lips that are touching hers. Hot, wet and so inviting though she doesn’t dare to move but John does. He’s about to give her another small kiss when she feels the pull at her skin and his lips turning cold against hers and he quickly pulls away from her, a little breathless. It hadn’t lasted more than two, maybe three seconds and he just leans back in his chair to recover as if he has just run a mile. She swallows deeply and breathes heavily after the contact, resisting the urge to ask him if he’s okay, and her head is messed up. John is the loudest one in there now, she can feel everything he’s feeling, and god it’s so overwhelming that she wants to stand up and run away, far away where nobody would know her. There are hundreds of disoriented thoughts whirling around in her head and she feels a headache coming along, but there is one feeling that shines brighter than all the others. The boy she just kissed is not the same boy he was at Bobby’s house. He’s still a bit breathless when he looks at her with a smirk on his lips, and she can sense him and his thought still lingering in her head from the kiss. He didn’t mind he tells her, he doesn’t mind doing it again either - and in fact, it was worth it. It’s probably the most romantic thing John could ever say, and she tries to be okay with it, but it’s hard when she hears ten voices in her head at the same time, all telling her different things and different views and opinions and comments. It feels like her head is about to split in two and when she looks at John’s pale and drained face she just can’t understand why he’s smiling at her. “Why did you do that?” she suddenly hisses at him and earns a chuckle in exchange. “Thought it was about time something nice happened on my birthday,” he tells her cheekily and even chuckles a bit as if he’s proud. Speechless, Marie just looks ahead of her and she’s almost missed the sunrise. Then she suddenly stands up and runs, runs so fucking fast as if she’s ten again and chasing the ice cream truck down the street with her best friend, and she doesn’t stop until she gets to her room and locks the door behind her. - She wakes up around noon and at first she thinks it was all a dream. All is well and she is sporting a tiny hangover that she barely even feels is there (sometimes having multiple personalities in your head can feel like a hangover anyway, so she’s used to the feeling) until she remembers everything and smacks her head with her palm in horror. She sits up in her bed, her duvet curled around her body and Jubes is sitting on her own bed, painting her toenails with a bright yellow color. “Finally decided to join the rest of us puny mortals, huh?” she asks and wriggles her toes. “What time is it?” Marie asks her friend groggily and her eyes automatically fall over Jube’s curved body as she reaches over to her nightstand to put her nail polish away. Goddamnit. Now was not the time for John to show up and perv over her friend. “Oh, somewhere around 1. You just missed lunch,” Jubes eyes her friend and smirks, “and so did Bobby and John.” Marie avoids all eye contact as she awkwardly shuffles out of bed and starts walking towards the bathroom. “Oh,” is all she says, stopping by her bureau on the way and takes out a pair of gloves and other clothes from a drawer. “Did you three have some kinky orgy that I should know about?” Jubes thought about it and grimaced. “Or maybe I shouldn’t know about,” she amends. In the bathroom, Marie stops to look at herself through the mirror. Her ridiculously long nightgown is on and it covers as much of her as her regular clothes does but she won’t complain. Sometimes she even sleeps with her gloves on just so the risk of anybody accidentally brushing against her would never happen – Like with John. It wasn’t even accidental – and he said it was nice. He was the one who did it while knowing what would happen once they actually touched, and she knows that he didn’t mind the hurt at all. She could feel him nearly overwhelm her as they kissed and afterwards she felt him longing for even more, through all the pain he was feeling as an aftershock. And he is so different than what she had remembered him being after Bobby’s house. She knows now something that wasn’t so clear to her before; she knows John and that he doesn’t break the rules to show the authority that he won’t follow anybody. He breaks them because they’re the one thing that stands between him and what he wants, which is his power. John actually laughs - a lot. Marie doesn’t see much of it but she has memories of John and Bobby laughing until they nearly cry on late nights in their room. Bobby tries to crack as many jokes as humanly possible, and John does his best to turn them around and make them dirty and it all ends up with them both clutching their stomachs furiously and laughing. He’s manipulative when he wants to; he had planned walking into the livingroom when Marie was there. He had planned warning her about his birthday and she played it all into his hands until they both ended up on the rooftop just like he wanted – though he got more than he had thought he could. The kiss wasn’t in the plan, which makes Marie feel a little more relieved. He’s talked to Remy, once, after spying on him with Marie. He followed him to the library where he was shamelessly flirting with some other girl and John just stared at him, half admiring him and half wanting to throw him into a pit of fire. Then he casually walked up to him and the other girl and asked him if he’d ever be up for a round in the danger room. Charmingly, Remy accepted and said he looked forward to seeing what powers John have and that’s when John decided that he couldn’t wait to use this as an excuse to let all his powers out, unstoppable, with no barriers – on Remy. After all, Remy had said it would be okay. John used to be wild, crazy and more than a little dangerous. When Marie touched him the first time she felt all his energy occupy her body and making her want to snap her fingers and wave fire around and watch the others run away in horror. He was like wildfire, unpredictable and he always left a mark after himself and he was alone because he wanted to be alone. When they kissed, she felt him wanting to kiss her again so much that it ached inside of him – and it’s a new feeling to him, that he wants another person as much as he wants his power everyday. Finally - finally - something new that sparks his interest and that challenges him and makes him want to return to. Something that doesn’t bore him and doesn’t make him wish he was somewhere else, doesn’t take his powers for granted. It’s Marie. - She feels groggy and hung over for the rest of the day and finally has the courage to step outside of her room around six to get some food. The coast is clear – all her senses tells her that nobody’s lurking in the shadows, and nobody’s scent is taking up the room which means that it’s empty. Sometimes she’s more than grateful for having Logan in her head because at least it means she can avoid unwanted company if necessary. And avoiding anybody at this point was a necessity. She makes a sandwich and eats it even quicker than what it took for her to put it together. Doesn’t look very lady-like, she mutters to herself, and shoves the last piece of it into her mouth. She starts drinking her soda when she suddenly hears voices coming down the hall – voices that are very close and getting closer and she curses herself for turning off her senses while she was eating. Oh, well. It was too late now, and if she takes a run for it then she’ll just end up either hiding in the storage closet looking like an idiot, or bumping into someone looking even more like an idiot. She chews down the food quickly and waits for them to enter the kitchen, and she knows right away that the people are none other than John and Bobby. Of course. Perfect. The three students who were all out last night getting drunk, now happen to be in the kitchen the exact same time to get some food. Why can’t the mansion have three separate kitchens? Marie inwardly pleads. It would make things so much easier. John’s eyes meets hers over the kitchen counter immediately and she feels guilty and blushes. Bobby – looking worse than death himself, and John was right; he really can’t hold his liquor – staggers over to his girlfriend and smiles weakly before giving her a brief kiss on the top of her head. “You look like hell,” she tells him jokingly and hands him her soda. “Rough night,” Bobby explains and looks at John. He can’t tell Marie anything else since according to him, Marie isn’t even supposed to know that it was John’s birthday. “It sure was,” John hops up on the kitchen island and looks at the fridge with a smirk. “Well, I’ll leave you two boys alone to cure whatever it is you’re suffering an aftershock from.” She tries to leave but Bobby calls her name and kind of begs her to stay with him because he can use a friendly face around. “Hey, what about me?” John says, mildly offended. “You don’t count,” Bobby teases him and takes a drink from Marie’s soda. She squirms her way out of Bobby’s gentle grip because she feels fake and mean and shouldn’t be allowed to have a boyfriend who holds her that gently. Bobby looks like he’s about to hurl and John warns him, “Hey, dude, not again and not in the kitchen.” Bobby looks apologetic and leans against the counter, “I think I need to lie down.” “Must’ve been a really rough night,” Marie notes quietly, knowing exactly what happened that night since she got all John’s fresh new memories now. Now she also knows that while Bobby and John were out, John barely touched the alcohol at all and let Bobby drink all by himself, and it makes her angry. Bobby flees out of the room clutching his stomach and it’s so typical that John and Marie are trapped in the same room together. She doesn’t know if she wants to mention the kiss or if she shouldn’t. A small voice in her head says she wants to touch him again because it felt nice – but she isn’t sure whose voice that can be so she ignores it. “You’re holding up good after all that drinking,” John finally says and watches her intently. She nods. “You forgot the bottle up on the roof though. I took it.” She nods again and she leans against the counter so that John can only watch her in profile. “Why didn’t you drink?” “I did drink, remember?” “I mean with Bobby,” she corrects him and still won’t look him in the eye, “why did you make him drink all by himself while you watched?” The question is kind of petty and non important right now, but it’s the only thing she can really think of right now. “How do –“ he stops mid sentence and it strikes him. His mouth quirks up in a tiny smirk and he looks impressed, “Ah. Now you know all my recent memories and all that. Don’t you? You know everything that’s happened from after Bobby’s house to last night.” She nods again and wishes her head will fall off from the movement, just so she can get out of being in this situation. Finally, she turns her head to watch him and he looks completely different from the Cocky and Obnoxious Kid he always claims to be. He looks at her as if he knows what she’s thinking – as if he’s trying really hard to feel sorry about kissing her, but in fact doesn’t feel that sorry about it at all. “Hey –“ he starts, then closes his mouth and frowns. “What?” “Don’t freak out about it.” She gulps quietly and smiles nervously, watching the tiles on the floor. “It’s kind of hard not to.” “Yeah, but…” he shrugs lightly and hops off the counter but stands frozen to the spot, not making any moves towards her. “I mean, what’s the worst thing that can happen? Bobby can find out.” “Exactly,” she sternly agrees, sending him a deadly glare telling him that if Bobby finds out, John will be the first to pay for it. But, she admits to herself, she’ll probably be the one telling Bobby anyway. She wants to tell him because at least she has some sense of morality left after everything. “I won’t tell him, but –“ John stops again and finally just lets out a chuckle. He looks relieved. “I don’t even have to tell you, because you know. Okay? Just… Do whatever. You know what I think.” And then he leaves the room and Marie stands there by herself, sorting through the range of emotions that goes through her head. John’s is shining the brightest and it tells her that maybe things will finally get a bit easier from now on. - The thing about assumptions is that it only gets you so far. People change and events happen that alters someone’s mind or emotions or everything else – somewhere along the way, Marie forgot that maybe even people like John can change. She just saw him in one light, in one track, like she does with Magneto, Logan, David. Now he’s a bit different and though that change is small it’s a big deal when it comes to John, and Marie. If it weren’t for Marie, John might’ve still been stuck in a rut like he’s been since he was ten. John would never do anything for anyone else. He was bitter and shut people out because he didn’t really care about what others think and he never thought he needed anybody else. He was always the last person to admit to anything – and though he might still be like that in some ways, he’s still different. Because when Marie a few days later walks into her room, she sees a full bottle of scotch sitting on her desk with a scarf wrapped around it. It’s night and Jubilee is out God knows where – probably plotting with Kitty – and Marie gleefully picks up the bottle and unwraps the scarf. It’s a red scarf and she imagines it being fire when wind is blowing through it furiously like flames reaching up to the sky, and she frowns a bit at the silly gesture. A huge smile creeps up on her lips and she can’t contain it anymore as she holds the scarf tightly and looks out of the window over the desk. She has had a pretty bad day – after telling Bobby a few days before, he had started avoiding her and sending her hurt looks, but other than that she had mostly just been alone. Thinking a lot, almost too much, making things seem more complicated than what they really are. As if she’s putting up barriers herself just so that she’ll have something to trip over and stop her, stop her from doing something she normally wouldn’t do because she’s just not that kind of girl. She’s not the kind of girl who changes, because it’s a scary thing to do – if she could, she’d be the virginal southerner forever. Then again, if guys like John can change maybe even girls like Marie can. She sits on her bed for a few moments and then leans back against the wall and thinks. She starts forming up a plan in her head, something to do with John and the way he’s been giving her curious looks over dinner but never once stopped by to talk to her because she’s made it pretty clear she wants to be by herself. She wants to knock on his door and just smile – no words necessary, not because he can read her feelings like she can his, but just because John isn’t a guy who likes to talk and that suits Marie perfectly right now. Her face lights up. There are flames going on outside on the dark sky and she recognize the flames immediately. With the scarf still in her hand, she goes to her closet to find her jacket and once it’s on, she doesn’t even bother thinking up an excuse to tell John when she suddenly appears on the field where he’s standing. She’ll just smile, and he’ll probably smirk because he isn’t a guy that like’s talking – no matter how much he’s changed. Some things are just better left untouched, though some things aren’t. She holds the scarf tightly and wonders if he’ll find a safer way to kiss her this time.