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Memorial There’s something about the way the rain patters against the windows. It doesn’t sound right; it feels uneven and dry. Bobby stares out of the window, at the grey, dull clouds blocking out the sun and he takes the opportunity to stare right towards the center of all energy and light until the back of his eyes starts to hurt. The view is magnificent; a rainbow is starting to form up by the edge of the large backyard. The rain is still going on steadily and he can hear a vague sound of a thunder somewhere far, far away. He leans back against his desk as he stares out of the room, crosses his arms over his chest, and thinks he must look like Cyclops did once, when he came to class too early many years ago and caught his teacher off guard. He looked older, wiser, and had time to set aside which he could spend by just staring out of the window. Well, Bobby doesn’t feel older. Bobby still wants to go out for ice cream and snicker behind from adults’ backs about some obscene comment made and he wants to be out there on the lawn right now, devoured by the heavy drops and feeling the thunder straight out to his fingertips. Maybe he’d sit down and feel the water through his clothes and say fuck homework, and then instead sit up all night to cram for his exam just because he spent his entire day out in the rain. Exam, he thinks, and remembers that his students are probably cramming for the very exam that he’s giving them tomorrow. There’s a reason why he isn’t down in the cafeteria with the other teachers. He checks his watch to affirm that it’s time for him to leave, and he grabs his jacket that he’s kept for so many years even though it’s torn to the seams and will probably fall apart the next time he takes it off. Behind him he hears someone step into his room and quickly snaps his head that way, seeing Marie carefully stepping closer to him with her beautiful, slender arms wrapped in gloves. There’s a small, tired squeeze around Bobby’s heart when he sees it; it’s the same sadness and guilt he used to be overwhelmed with when they dated a while back. Now he just feels sorry about the situation, sorry she had to accept the fact that Bobby could never touch her, no matter how much both of them wished it could happen. “Where are you going in this weather?” she drawls at him with a smile and leans back at the desk, just like he had been doing before she came in, while Bobby fixes the collar of his jacket. “I need to take a walk,” he tells her and smiles. “But it’s raining,” Marie explains, “you’ll get soaking wet.” Bobby smiles at her patiently; it’s the smile he’s stored for all his students that just doesn’t seem to understand physics when he explains to them that it’s really not that complicated. But sometimes it is that complicated, and then Bobby can’t do anything expect tell them what he already knows and hope at least half of the class understands. He tries to think back to his classes with Dr. Grey but his memory is clouded; he can’t remember a thing from his old classes expect for chalk, fire and John’s taunting voice, whispering to Bobby that Dr. Grey has got the finest ass in the mansion just to get a reaction out of him. A few minutes later, Bobby’s already standing outside of the mansion with his collar high up and water drops falling on his face as the wind whips all around him. He pushes a few drops away from his cheeks and eyes before shivering at the cold, and he smiles. When it rains, it pours. * “Come on, relax,” John told Bobby, throwing the menu at him from across the table. “Order something.” “I can’t relax,” Bobby muttered back while opening the menu and thinking of the way John grinned at him with something else but the regular fire in his eyes. “We’re not supposed to be here.” John pulled down the menu enough so he could meet Bobby’s eyes as he smirked and said, “That’s exactly the point.” “What is the point? I don’t –“ “Just do this for me, okay?” John interrupted and sounded pretty serious, pretty angry, and leaned back in his seat while playing with his lighter again. “You can whine about it when we get back; hell, you can even go to Marie and tell her all about it. Just order something, and tell me about your day.” “My…day?” John nodded. “My stressed out roommate kept talking about some fucking English exam he was supposed to have today and he stayed up all night reading Crime & Punishment. You know anything about that?” Bobby cracked a smile, finally, and watched the lighter in John’s hand as he said, “I think he got an A. Most definitely a B, anyway, but he’s hoping for an A.” John stopped flickering with the lighter and widened his eyes mockingly. “This must be celebrated! How about we go somewhere for a bite?” John stared around the diner they were currently in and added, “Oh, wait…” “Alright, I get it,” Bobby sounded stern at first, but shook his head as he grinned like a fool at his friend. “I’ll order something.” * Bobby likes taking the bus wherever he goes. It’s an unpopular opinion where he lives; everybody has a car license now and the garage had to be rebuilt to fit all the new vehicles. Driving a car has never interested Bobby – he only really thought about it when the idea of going to Boston for college was brought up. He had walked into the professor’s office one day, after carefully thinking about it, and told his mentor that he didn’t feel like he needed to leave the mansion for that long. He had asked the professor if he could return to teach, and he got the answer he wanted and decided that he wouldn’t want a car since he’d be coming back, anyway. The professor used to tell Bobby that while riding the bus, you always have the time to study other people and find some peace of quiet. Once on the way home from a school trip, John tormented the younger students by throwing small objects at them, or having a tiny balls of fire tingle at the back of their necks until it freaked them out and had to change seats. It’s been more than five years now and maybe John wasn’t that kid anymore. Bobby can’t really picture him in a different way other than the rebellious Pyro, setting everything on fire, smirking like a devil while flickering with his lighter. The last time Bobby saw him was while lying down on the ground, pressing down onto his gut wound as John walk past him, disappearing into the woods and leaving both the Brotherhood and their world behind. There had been reports afterwards, where Cyclops had asked over and over where John could be, but nobody saw him since that day, three years earlier. Bobby never told anyone that his gut wound was from his fight with John, but he knew that the professor’s scrutinizing eyes had already figured it all out. While he had been lying in the dirt, waiting for the X-jet to come and pick him up, he wondered if John even noticed him lying there with blood coming out of his stomach, with the smell of burnt flesh overwhelming him. * “Wait, you’re paying?” Bobby asked John with a scoff. “This must be a special occasion.” “Well, anything for the ice princess,” John bit back as he pulled out a few bills from his wallet. Bobby smiled and knew there was little he could retort with without having his head bitten off by John. He ate the very last French fry on his plate and leaned back in the seat, full and content, watching John. There was something off with him; Bobby had figured that out ever since John sat down in the booth across from him. It was the way he avoided eye contact one moment, and eagerly wanted to smile reassuringly at Bobby the next. His actions were skittish and unsure for the first time ever and when John told Bobby that he did a good job, he got a feeling that John was talking about something else than the exam. “You’re okay, right?” “What are you talking about?” John asked, still munching the last piece of steak he had ordered, which had also made Bobby raise his eyebrows. “Like that,” Bobby pointed at John’s almost empty plate, “why did you go and order steak for?” “Because I knew I would be paying?” John retorted and put down his utensils. “Come on, be serious for once.” “Fuck you,” he sounded angry and frustrated; as if he’d been holding it back for the entire stay at the diner and only now, when Bobby has asked what was wrong, could John let it out with one, big sigh, “I just wanted to be nice, even if that’s such a hard thing to understand. I just wanted – “ he suddenly stopped talking and lowered his voice, dropping his eyes uncharacteristically sadly to his plate, “I just wanted to congratulate you. Learn to receive compliments better and we won’t be having this problem.” Bobby frowned. He thought he had been receiving the compliment just fine, but he knew when to quit a topic with John. Bobby just nodded to himself as John put an extra dollar on the table as tip and muttered, “Let’s go, they’re waiting.” * When Bobby enters the diner, he sees that not much has changed in since the last time he was there. Same flower patterns on the walls, same red chairs, same booths sitting idly by the same, large windows. The place is completely deserted as the storm goes on outside, and there’s a woman standing behind the counter, drinking some coffee while doing a crossword puzzle. Bobby takes a seat on the other side of the counter, leaving his dark jacket on as he runs his hands through his wet hair. The lady spots him and heads over with a fresh pot of coffee in one hand, half shouting over the distance between them, “What can I get for you?” “Oh, just,” Bobby stops and checks the place is they have some menu somewhere but gives up the search when the woman just stands there and looks at him, “um, some coffee would be nice.” “Coming right up,” she says and grabs a coffee mug on her way to him, and pours him a big cup of black coffee, leaving the pot right next to him on the counter before she returns to her crossword. He burns his tongue when he drinks the coffee, and then he hears the bell above the door ring when someone else enters the diner. He whips his head towards the door but it’s a woman he’s never seen before, taking a seat at one of the many booths by a window. The lady behind the counter puts away the crossword puzzle and takes the pot from next to Bobby before walking over to her new customer. * The doorbell above the door rang as both stepped out of the diner, shivering in the cold afternoon, their hands in their pockets and collars up high to shield their necks from the chilly winds. Bobby looked suspiciously at John, who suddenly stopped walking and stared straight ahead of them at some building down the road. “John?” “I should tell you something,” John then said, his voice rasping before he coughs and then looks at Bobby. “I don’t know why I dragged you here, Bobby, I guess I just wanted some kind of…I don’t know, alright?” he sounded frustrated and tired, so Bobby just replied with a reassuring, “Yeah, alright.” “Because I know what you’ll think when you hear from the others about…about what’s going to happen.” “John, what’s going on?” Bobby walked closer to his friend, facing him, letting the worry be evident through the look on his face. “What are you telling me?” “I’m not going back with you to the mansion.” There was a pause, a breathless moment where Bobby just stared back at John, completely and utterly confused and surprised. John swallowed deeply and continued, “The dinner was nice. It’s what I wanted before I leave. So, uh, thanks for skipping school with me.” He offered Bobby a smile, but only got a chilly look in response. “Where are you going?” “I,” John started and then took a deep breath, backing a few steps and watching their surrounding warily so he wouldn’t have to look at Bobby, “I really can’t tell you that.” “This is crazy, why won’t you even -?” “Listen, it’s not a big deal,” John argued back, raising his voice just like he had in the diner, “we’ll see each other again, alright?” “We will?” Bobby asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow and feeling it was harder to swallow all of a sudden; his throat was closing in and he couldn’t tear his eyes off John’s form that was starting to walk away slowly, putting more distance between them subtly. As if Bobby wouldn’t even noticed John leaving in the first place. “Just don’t have any second thoughts about kicking my ass then,” John said cryptically with a small smirk on his lips, “because you’re gonna have to.” Bobby’s heart sank as John waved him goodbye once and then turned to leave, turning around the building’s corner so Bobby wouldn’t have to see him anymore. In the background Bobby could hear an all too familiar sound of a flame being shot up in the sky and as an impulse, almost as a reflex, Bobby started running towards that sound that was just around the corner, but by then it was too late and there wasn’t even ashes left on the ground as a signature that John had been there. * He ices his mug of coffee accidentally when he hears the bell ring the second time, and he quickly tries to hide it from the waitress in case she wouldn’t want any mutants in her diner. He’s busy grabbing the mug before it has to the chance to slide of the counter and fall into smithereens on the floor to notice that someone’s standing behind him. “Hey –“ John says, not even having the chance to say something else before Bobby’s high pitched voice shouts, “John!” while he’s desperately holding the iced mug in his hand. “Are you done with that?” John pointed at the mug with his hands still in his jacket’s pockets. “No, yeah,” Bobby awkwardly puts the mug down on the counter and stands up to see John eye to eye and he realizes that they’re both the exact same height, though both has grown much taller over the years. “Let’s go sit,” is all he can say and John nods once in response, leading the way to a booth; probably the same booth they sat at five years ago, but right now Bobby’s mind is too surprised to even realize, let alone care. John looks different, but not too different. Bobby categorizes everything that’s different with John on his way to the booth as he watches John gracefully slid into his seat; his hair is a bit longer, scruffier and dry – he’s worn a hood while outside in the rain, Bobby thinks as he spots the hood on John’s coat. John hasn’t shaven in a few days and he looks healthier – there’s no more dark rings under his eyes like he always suffered from when they were kids. His jacket is a long, black coat that John wouldn’t have worn in a million years if they were still 17, but now he’s wearing the coat as if he’s never worn anything else in his entire life. When Bobby sits down across the table from John, he has to tear his eyes away so John won’t call him on staring. He’s struck with the sudden worry of not knowing what to say after all these years and it leaves him feeling uneasy. “I shocked you,” John says as he shrugs off his coat ruffles his hair once with his fingers; it looks like it’s a habit for him, and Bobby wishes he’d been with John when the habit was formed. He wonders if John still flickers his lighter whenever he’s nervous. “I didn’t think you’d show up.” “Surprise,” John says with a big grin. “I knew you’d show up.” Bobby’s too happy to hold back his grin and they both sit there, grinning at each other, taking in each other’s appearances that they haven’t seen for three years. “Why?” “Because you’re you,” John says smugly and then the waitress shows up and hands them both a menu each; John completely ignores her as he watches Bobby. “How are things?” It’s weird, Bobby thinks, having such a normal conversation, such an adult one. Even if he ignores the fact that John has been gone for several years, it still feels weird because John would never have asked Bobby that question five years ago, at least not while being serious. It’s another sign that John has grown older and then Bobby realizes that he’s grown older too – because he’s actually enjoying this moment, just as it is. He stops worrying, and smiles at John. “Things are okay. I teach now, at the mansion,” Bobby says and sees John’s slightly surprised look. “I’m new at it, I mean, I just started but…it’s fun. Marie and Jubilee teaches too.” “So the whole gang is still there.” “I guess,” Bobby shrugged, still not opening his menu, “some have left for college and never came back. We’ve got a whole bunch of new students too, some are pretty cool.” Bobby bites his tongue before thinking about asking John to come and meet some of them. “What a way to summarize five years,” John drawls playfully and pushes his menu away, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed pose. “How would you summarize your five years?” Your five years, Bobby asks about the years as if it’s nothing else than a period in life where they were both without each other. Not ‘your past five years’ or ‘the last years’, but Your Five Years, as if they should be capitalized because they represent such a huge moment in time for Bobby. Bobby hates that he analyzes it so much, but he doubts John even notices. “Ah,” John looks as if he’s thinking of something that’s really complicated and difficult and then he pouts his lips before saying, “I’ve traveled.” Bobby’s ears perk up at this piece of information and ask, “Where did you go?” “Warm places,” John suddenly winks at Bobby and Bobby feels something deep in his gut and his heart beat accelerates. It’s like a rush that goes straight to his head and he forgets all about his life back at the mansion, being a teacher and having his obligations, and thinks that all he has now is this moment, sitting with John after five whole years, and he thinks he wouldn’t really need anything else in his life now, because he feels just fine. * It was autumn when Bobby picked up the ringing phone in his room and heard the familiar sound of John’s voice on the other end. The first thing Bobby wanted to do was to lash out at John for leaving him bleeding out in the middle of nowhere as the brotherhood had their latest scheme cooked up, ready to destroy the mansion and everybody in it. He remembered the gut wound he had suffered from and the smell of blood as it ran down his stomach, down to the wet grass. John had run past him without giving him a second glance. “Why are you calling?” “I wanted to see if you were alright, after last time.” No, I’m not alright, Bobby screamed inwardly, how could you leave me there while I was bleeding to death, I thought you - “I’m sorry, you know.” John paused. “I’m really sorry. But I had to get out of there as fast as I could and I knew your X-friends would come running to pick you up.” Bobby didn’t say anything. He sat down on the bed, the receiver tightly pressed against his ear, pressing it so hard as so he could hear the smallest of breaths that John was taking. Somehow it calmed him down more than hearing John apologize to him. “Look, if it makes you feel any better…you gave my hand a serious case of frostbite.” Bobby flinched. “It doesn’t.” “I’m also sorry I couldn’t call before,” John continued, “I couldn’t exactly contact any of Magneto’s enemies.” He chuckled at the word ‘enemies’ but Bobby couldn’t figure out why it would be that funny. On the last report Bobby had been on, Scott told everybody that apparently John was nowhere to be seen, and Magneto had broken all ties with him, leaving everybody to think that John would either be in hiding, or dead. “Where have you been?” Bobby asked quietly, not letting his eager curiosity show because he still had stitches across his stomach as a reminded of what John did – or didn’t do. “Around. I’ve been all over the place…couldn’t exactly sit still or somebody would find me.” “Who?” “Magneto. People who hate mutants,” John sounded tired, “everybody, I guess.” “Scott’s been asking about you.” A harsh laughter on the other end, “I’m flattered.” “Logan thinks you’re dead.” John chuckled and then mumbled quietly into the phone, “he wishes.” It sounded so intimate that it made Bobby think that John was sitting in the exact same position with his phone pressed closely to his ear. “It’s over, right? You’re not with Magneto anymore?” Bobby sounded desperate, probably, but he needed the affirmation, he needed to hear it himself so he won’t feel so guilty for missing him anymore. Jubilee had once asked him why he could miss a traitor; Bobby hadn’t ever really thought of it that way until she pointed it out to him, but it didn’t change the way he felt. “No,” John let out a breath, sounding as if he was lying down on his back somewhere, “unfortunately we had to break up, but I didn’t take it too hard.” Bobby was glad to see that his humor was still intact, and bit back a grin. “That’s…good.” There was a long pause where they just listened to each other breathe, and Bobby was so nervous that he didn’t even think his voice would come out as steady anymore. The silence was uncomfortable because they had already missed two whole years of being friends and he kept thinking about how much John might’ve changed – about what John actually wanted Bobby to say, or not say, and if he was close to losing the very last thread they had left of their friendship just because he didn’t know what he was supposed to talk about. “John, when are you coming back?” his voice was silent, whispering, on the verge of pleading like only a small child could. “Not yet,” John replied softly, and the answer was better than Bobby had anticipated. “I still need to do some things.” “Like what?” “I don’t know, anything,” John sounded optimistic as he said, “I want to travel some more before I see the mansion again. I need to do something before...” he trailed off. It didn’t upset Bobby at all that John won’t come running back, because he had just affirmed that he would be coming back. He will. John will strut into the mansion as if he owned it and Bobby will probably be following him around wherever he goes, just like old times. “How long?” Bobby asked jokingly, pretending like he wouldn’t be counting the days, weeks until he’d see John again. “I don’t know,” John replied in that teasing voice, “how about three years?” Bobby bit his bottom lip and lifted his head to look out of his window; it was raining outside and he was sure he’ll remember this day a lot longer than he’ll remember his graduation, the day he left Boston, the moment he saw John walk into the mansion for the first time. “The diner,” Bobby said with determination, not letting John choose any other place for the reunion to be. “Yeah,” John breathed, sounding like he was smiling. Bobby let himself smile as well, and said goodbye to John because it’s better to say goodbye than being said goodbye to. He put the phone down and heard the water pouring outside. Bobby checked his watch. |