Book 4: Riven, Revelling, Reviled
Chapter 27: “Thrown”
Jean looked around at the expectant faces before her: Bobby Drake, Jubilation Lee, Sam Guthrie, Terry O’Rourke, Doug Ramsey and John Allerdyce. She could feel their emotions move through her, like a fluttering bird in her chest. Excitement, trepidation, determination. She smiled at the group.
“You are to be the next generation of X-Men. Congratulations. This is an honor and a deep commitment. We will work hard together to make sure you are ready before you face the dangers our enemies have planned for us.”
The kids were seated on the grass and in lawn chairs behind her parents’ house in Connecticut, all except for Sam who was on a limb of the old Norway Maple. The fact that they were holding their first training session there of all places made her realize she was dreaming. Still, she thought, That shouldn’t matter. Scott is counting on me to prepare them. The students sipped their tall glasses of her mother’s lemonade.
“Okay, I want you standing in a line. Yes, Terry, order yourselves by height. Good idea. Count off, ‘one, two, one, two, etc.’”
A blue jay made a raucous scream from high in the maple. The sound pierced her mind like a needle going through the skin of a balloon. The balloon was filled with something red and hot.
Doug craned his head up to find the bird and shouted with glee, “That means ‘Predator!’ ‘Predator!’”
Jean felt the anger surge through her like something red and hot. Who did this boy think he was? How could someone so weak have been chosen to join the X-Men? “Akhsîfni divrr’rBrekhti Dràvan!” she shouted at him. She had no idea what the words meant but Doug, who could understand any language, seemed to. He went white, nodded and moved sheepishly to the end of the line of students. When they counted off, his voice sounded small and frightened.
She smiled encouragingly at them, remembering the importance of positive reinforcement. “Good, now I want the teams on opposite sides of the yard, facing each other. On my go, you will try to be the first to touch the birdbath in the center of the lawn. Help your teammates reach the goal and try to stop the opposing team in any way you can.”
The kids looked uneasily at each other and Jean laughed, a throaty, deeply sexual sound that embarrassed her. “Don’t hold back. Do you think our enemies will? You are fire! Feel your powers flow through you, red and hot.” She felt her own power rolling deep in her belly. “On my mark… and GO!”
The students attacked each other with startling vigor. Jubilee was positively ferocious, stunning Terry with a intense barrage of fireworks before her scream could emerge. Sam exploded into the air and flew for the birdbath, but he was knocked sideways by a huge fireball from John. Sam crashed to the ground, stunned and John looked Jean’s way with a satisfied grin.
“Good boy, Pyro. You’ll earn your power source yet.” Suddenly she saw a flash of movement and the terrible fury welled up in her again. Doug Ramsey was racing, unchallenged for the birdbath. “Stop him, you weaklings! His power is nothing!” Bobby tried to trip the boy by icing the grass; John shot fireballs that missed their mark, and still the boy weaved and ran. “Goddammit!” Jean screamed and the lawn furniture flew into the air and began whirling overhead as if gripped in its own private tornado.
Doug was almost at his goal, all their efforts wasted. But then Sam Guthrie was struggling to his feet. He ran and took flight with a roar like a jet engine, hurtling across the lawn and smashing into Doug with a terrible, wet sound. He landed shakily, red and hot, turning with his fellows to witness the result. Doug lay dead, sliced completely in two at the waist, the grass red with gore. High in the air, the lawn chairs swirled, the blue jay screamed.
Sam looked at her, a little unsure. “Uh, Dr. Phoenix, did I do good?”
She just laughed and rose into the air, burning, burning with joy. “Let loose! Let loose!” she cried.
Jean awoke with a start, her heart pounding. The dawning sun was behind the curtains and the bedroom shimmered with pale light. She saw movement in the dimness. Blinking, she peered out and realized that objects all around the room — brushes, books, the alarm clock, the waste basket — had risen one or two inches in the air where they wavered ever so slightly, as if in a light breeze. She gasped and everything fell back in place with a collective clunk. A small bud vase teetered on its base before slipping off the edge of the dresser and smashing as it hit the hardwood.
Scott snorted and said, “wuzzah…”
She was about to answer when she remembered the dream. The dream! What did I dream…? It was already just out reach. Blood. Students dying? Damn! She couldn’t bring it back. Whatever it was, it had spooked her, made her lose control of her powers. Relax, she told herself. It’s a new school year; that’s all. You’re nervous about the new school year.
Scott rose up on his elbows, staring at her with complete clarity. The Team Leader of the X-Men — from groggy to alert in six seconds. He was wearing his sleeping goggles with the thick elastic strap that prevented them accidentally slipping off. He looked from her to the broken vase and back, his jaw tightening perceptibly. “What’s happening, sweetie?”
“Nothing Scott,” she said too brightly. She had a bad feeling about this dream, about her loss of control, but she wasn’t ready to share her concern yet. She needed time to investigate it herself. Perhaps she would do an encephalogram later that morning. She waved casually towards the pile of brightly painted shards. “It must have fallen off.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Jean, did you do that? In your sleep?”
“I-I’m not sure. It’s just that kitschy bud vase my aunt gave us. And it was chipped, anyway.”
He put an encouraging hand on her back. “But it wasn’t just the vase, was it? I heard… And this isn’t the first time. You’ve been losing control of your TK in your sleep.”
She definitely didn’t want this conversation now, but challenging Scott was not the way to get him to drop a subject. She reached under the covers and found what she knew she would: his morning erection. She made a little sound in her throat — almost a purr. “Mmm, good morning. I see your staff is up early, Assistant Headmaster.”
He gave a little groan as she slipped a soft hand around his dick. “Jean, come on, I’m serious. I’m worried about… oh, man…”
“Too hard?”
“No, but… go a bit slower, yeah.” He lay back down, one hand stroking her ass, the other, his own nipple. “We have to talk about the… TK… later, okay?”
“Mmm,” she moaned encouragingly, but said nothing. She was half-remembering strange words in an unknown language.
***
Bobby moved down the hall amid the sea of small people and voices called out, “Hi Bobby! Hi Bobby!” He greeted them in return, giving out high fives, playful noogies and words of encouragement. He had known that September would bring a greatly increased student body, but he hadn’t quite grasped how odd that would feel.
First, there had been the new refugees who had continued to arrive at their doorstep throughout the summer, scared and desperate victims of a war that had not been officially declared. Then there were the new recruits Professor Xavier had located with Cerebro. And finally there were the kids whose parents had followed many a strange path and distant rumor to find the School for Gifted Youngsters. They were desperate to get their mutant kids safely to Westchester before their status was discovered in their own communities. Some were also afraid to live with their untrained mutant children who could demolish the house with an accidental loss of control.
If there was a common denominator with all these students, it was that they were a lot younger than he and the other first class had been: lots of 13 and 14 year olds and a few as young as 12 and 11. It changed the dynamic of the school. It required seniors like him to take on more authority, breaking up fights and handing out hugs. It required Bobby Drake, Universal Big Brother.
As he approached the gym, he found Peter down on one knee listening to Flea, his own newly adopted “little brother” excitedly tell him about his first powers class. “Sarah made the orange explode! Mr. Summers got totally squirted in the face.”
Peter laughed and tousled the boy’s spiky hair. “And how did you do? Did they find out how high you could jump?”
“Uh-huh. I got right up to the roof on the first go! Everybody cheered.”
Flea had arrived late on a stormy August night along with his friend, Artie. The two 13 year olds had been on a terrifying trek across three states, escaping from a foster home where they where they had been terrorized after their powers manifested. A third boy, one they called Leach, had been caught one night when they were running from the police. The Professor had so far been unable to find him.
It was Peter who had opened the door for the soaking wet boys. Even though they had been on the run for days, walking and hitchhiking to reach the secret mutant sanctuary they had read about online, it had taken an hour to talk Flea into actually venturing inside. Peter’s gentle patience had won the day, and since then the two were inseparable. Flea had even moved in with Peter and John in a room not really big enough for three. Bobby wondered what John, who liked his privacy, thought about that. He and John didn’t share confidences anymore, so he didn’t know the answer.
“Hi, Bobby,” Peter said, looking up. “I guess we better get inside or we’ll be in trouble with the boss!” He turned to Flea. “See you at dinner, buddy.”
Bobby watched Flea run off to join his friends and found himself remembering his little brother, Ronny, at that age. While home in Boston in July, he had tried to patch up the rift that had grown between them, but Ronny had been forever out with his friends or hiding in his room. In the end, they had hardly talked. How ironic was it that he could be big brother to everyone except his own flesh and blood?
As he and Peter entered the gym, Bobby found himself thinking of his life as a series of lost friendships: Ronny, Scott, Lance (who was dead! Somehow Bobby kept forgetting that), Kitty. And John. He didn’t understand why they had all given up on him. He felt cursed.
Jubilee and Rogue were stretching on warm-up mats and laughing about something. “Bobby, honey!” Rogue called and patted the mat to her right. “Sit here. You look good in the shirt.” The iridescent, powder blue tee had been a gift from his girlfriend for his 17th birthday in August. He ran his hands down the shiny material and smiled gratefully at her.
Jubilee looked up at the clock on the wall. “This session was called for 3:30, guys. I need you to be on time.”
Bobby checked the time. It was just turning 3:36. He was about to remind her that she wasn’t a teacher, and that they had just finished a long day of classes, but Peter apologized for them. He promised they would be on time from now on. Jubilee nodded seriously in response. The whole room seemed to vibrate with serious, and Bobby was beginning to regret agreeing to this.
Jubilee said, “Okay, I want to talk about some stuff before we start.” The gym door crashed open again and everyone turned to watch John saunter in. They were all dressed in X-sweats, but he was in jeans. Jubilee called out, “Hey, John! You joining us? That’s awesome!”
Bobby’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Really? I didn’t think this was your, uh —”
“Cup of tea?” John smirked. “Well, I’m not a tough guy like Battlin’ Bobby Drake and his trembling teacups, but —”
Bobby felt his face grow hot, and he wished he could come up with fast rejoinders the way John could. Rogue put a hand on his arm. “Hush now. He’s here and he’s welcome. And you sit down and behave yourself, too, John Allerdyce. Jubilee has a few things to say to us.” John gave Bobby a dark look and slumped cross-legged on a mat to Jubilee’s left.
Jubilee stood up, legs wide, hands clasped behind her back and, one by one looked them in the eye. “Thank you, Rogue. Okay, you know why we’re here. We’re the first students at the school who will turn 18, the first ones who will be eligible to be X-Men.” Bobby felt a little lump of doubt bobbing in his throat as she continued. “If we want the teachers to take us seriously, we have to work extra hard. Powers class and combat class aren’t going to be enough. We need to be in top physical and mental condition and know our shit inside out. We’re going to meet here two times a week for 90 minutes. Sometimes we’ll work out on our own and sometimes one of the teachers will be able to give us some of their time. Any questions?”
John half-raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Why aren’t we in the Danger Room? I want to blast some cool simulated monsters.”
Jubilee wiggled her fingers back at him, little sparks dancing across them. “I know! That would be so cool. But Storm and Cyclops say we have to get the fundamentals down before we play with their toys. I guess they’re right. They say that after Christmas, they’ll take us to —” Her head suddenly jerked up and she looked past them with a surprised expression. “Oh, hi.” They all turned and saw Kitty standing by the back wall, where she had presumably just phased in. “I didn’t think you wanted to —”
“Get a black leather X-suit? I’m more of a 100% cotton girl, thanks,” Kitty said with a pointedly casual air. “I’m just gonna watch. If that’s okay.”
Jubilee put a hand on her hip and chewed her lower lip like she was about to say no, but then she nodded. “Fine, just don’t get in the way. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”
“Don’t worry,” Kitty answered with a wry smile. “Nothing touches me unless I want it to.” She climbed up the small bleacher section and sat in the last row, cracking open her math text and peering down into it, apparently absorbed by what she found there.
“Okay,” Jubilee said, pulling their attention back away from the Kitty’s somewhat unnerving presence. “Let’s do some warm ups.”
She let Bobby lead them through a series of stretches before she took control of the session again. “Now we’ll try some simple attacks and blocks. Let’s pair off. There’s five of us, so we’ll have to switch up some. Come on Peter, you start with me.”
Peter seemed amused. “Maybe I’m a little big for you, Jubilee. Mr. Summers usually pairs us by size.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think the Brotherhood will be that considerate. Oh, and I want us using codenames. So, come on, Colossus, show me what you got.”
“Me and Iceman,” John announced, jumping to his feet. Bobby shot him a look. “S’matter, you don’t think I can take you?” John asked. Bobby rose slowly. He knew he was way better in combat class than John, but if he had to prove it, then that’s what he would do. He felt his fists clenching.
Rogue stood, too, putting a concerned hand on Bobby’s arm. “Now, you boys play nice,” she said.
“Fuck nice, Rogue,” Jubilee said. “We’re the new X-Men. We’re here to get the job done.”
They began easily, running and tumbling by the book. As he had predicted, Bobby was able to take down John or block his attacks most of the time; after all, he had straight ‘A’s in combat class. But as they continued — hearts beating faster, the smell of sweat rising in the air — John’s attacks grew more intense. Bobby began countering with more force, too, sending John flying again and again.
“You’re pretty tough, Iceman,” John smirked after landing hard on the mat. Their contacts were strange; hands gripping each other’s bodies with the familiarity of lovers but the intent of enemies. The arm that flailed before Bobby’s face was the same arm that had cradled his head as they slept. The legs spread wide for leverage had opened to him in passion. He felt his sex responding, but he knew he couldn’t go there. He threw John down with the intense concentration he had once used to bring him to orgasm. John slammed into the mat, and this time he laughed harshly as his breath returned. “Fuck.”
“Don’t give up, Pyro,” Jubilee called, out of breath and more than a little familiar with the floor herself. “Show him who’s boss.”
Bobby watched John nod and stand slowly. He walked back to his starting place, apparently ready to be thrown all day. Bobby realized the others were all watching their battle, Kitty included. He felt suddenly self-conscious and a little bit sorry for John. He turned back to his opponent in time to see him launch himself with a snarl and gleam of cold fire in his eyes.
Bobby’s timing was thrown by the sudden ferocity of the attack and he missed the hold he had been trying for. “Wait!” he shouted, but by then he was tumbling off balance. He landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him, stunned by the speed with which he found himself upended.
“That’s how it’s done, Pyro,” Jubilee shouted and raised a fist in victory. Bobby felt wounded by her support of John’s unfair attack. I wasn’t ready, dammit! She turned to Peter, “Okay, Colossus, you’re in trouble now.” And when the big guy attacked, she sent him flying. She helped him to his feet and walked over to share a high-five with John.
Bobby was still on his back in a state of disbelief. Rogue appeared above him and said, “Come on, honey, everyone goes down some time.”
He stood, embarrassed, and glared at John who said, “In the real world, Bobby boy, the good guys don’t always win.”
“Code names!” Kitty reminded from the back of the room, and they all turned in time to watch her phase out through the wall.
At the end of the session, Jubilee thanked them all for their hard work and walked out with John, the two grinning and gabbing enthusiastically.
“Why is she in charge anyway?” Bobby asked no one in particular.
Peter was on the floor, stretching out his legs. “The idea of organizing extra training was hers. We agreed to it. Why shouldn’t she be in charge?”
Bobby hadn’t meant to start a discussion with his petulant comment, but now he felt obliged to defend his position. “But Pete, you’ve been here longer. You’re older. The staff considered you and Dani the leaders last year. Doesn’t it bug you?”
He thought about Dani, who lad left school to care for her ailing Grandfather, the man who had raised her. “He needs me, and so does my community,” she had said, putting aside her own pain at leaving. Duty was duty. Bobby couldn’t help wondering if she might have been a better leader.
Peter smiled indulgently. “No, it doesn’t bug me. We all contribute in so many ways. Look how much you’re helping with the new kids. Besides, when Dani left, I was glad to turn in my ‘head prefect’ badge.” Bobby must have looked confused because Peter added, “Metaphorical badge, I mean.”
Rogue, who had been doing chin-ups at the far end of the gym joined them. “Besides, with Mike gone back to Boston, she needs a job to focus on. She must be hurting somethin’ awful.”
“We all need a role to play, Bobby,” Peter said. He excused himself and headed for the showers. Bobby wondered, What’s my role?
He was still pissed off, so he tried to shake himself out of the mood by working through his combat patterns. Each one required precision and he was good at them. Set and turn and lunge and block… In his peripheral vision, he saw Rogue watching him, clearly waiting for a moment to interrupt because she probably thought they should talk about what’s botherin’ you, sugah. He kept his face stony, turned away from her, kicking, ducking, blocking. He spun around and found her right up in his face.
“Boo!” she said merrily. He scowled at her and she burst out laughing.
He said, “Oh great, is the Bobby Drake Humiliation Festival still on?”
“I’m sorry, honey,” she giggled and put her gloved hands on his hips. “And, honestly, nobody was trying to humiliate you. Being thrown is just part of the training.”
“Are you dense?! This has been the best day of John’s life, blindsiding me and then getting applauded by everyone.” She clucked her tongue and he scowled deeper. “Well, spit it out, Rogue. You think I’m a dork, right?”
She let out an exasperated breath and pulled him closer until his crotch was pressed against her stomach. “Bobby, I never said that! Why are you taking this so seriously?”
He heard the door squeak open followed by the sound of giggles. Two 13-year-old girls had stuck their heads in and seen the mansion’s most famous couple getting all close and romantic. Bobby stepped back and Rogue’s hands fell to her side.
“Girls, do you mind giving us some privacy?” The faces retreated with another giggle. Bobby dropped to a mat and started doing calisthenics. “John was out of line,” he said between gritted teeth as he made his way through 30 push-ups. “That wasn’t fair.”
Rogue loomed over him. “Fair? I’m sorry, but this isn’t Scott’s combat class. This is actual combat. We are training to be X-Men. When we get out there and fight, no one’s going to be giving us marks for style or… or blowing whistles if is someone fouls us!”
Bobby sat up and hugged his legs, feeling completely misunderstood. “But John shouldn’t even be in this group! He’s just doing it to make me look bad!”
“Mister, you can be pretty narcissistic, you know?” She sat on the mat beside him. “Why shouldn’t John be here? Don’t you think he has things to fight for?” She put a hand up to his cheek and even through her glove, he could feel the faintest tingle of her power. He suddenly felt ashamed and turned his face away. John had always made fun of the X-Men, of all the training, but maybe he had changed. Maybe it’s me who doesn’t want to fight, Bobby thought.
Still, his wounded ego rebelled. “But he has to at least act like we’re a team, Rogue!” he said miserably.
“Listen, sugar,” she said quietly. “You have to stop being so sensitive. You should thank John for catchin’ you off guard. You told me about the night you fought at Turcott’s Clinic. Magneto wasn’t playing fair then, was he? And he wasn’t playing fair when he tied me up in the Statue of Liberty. I was supposed to die for his stupid plan.”
Bobby turned back to her and saw her eyes glistening. “Honey, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to think about that.” He reached up to touch her face and she jerked back so he wouldn’t connect with her deadly skin. He lowered the useless hand again.
She gave a little sniff. “No, I don’t mind. It happened to me and it was terrible, but that’s part of the reason I’m ready to fight. Before that, I never realized how strong I could be.” She wiped her eyes and looked up at him with determination. “And I don’t know what your problem is with John, but enough is enough. Everyone says you used to be best friends, that you put yourself on the line to get him into the school. And now, because of some stupid boy fight, probably about who has a bigger cock-a-doodle-doo, you aren’t talking. Congratulations. Well, it ends today.”
Blindsided again! He got to his feet and started piling up the workout mats, letting each one smack down loudly on the next. “You don’t understand, Rogue! Drop it.”
She shouted from behind him, “Bobby Drake, you are a stubborn fool!” He heard her running and turned too late to stop her. Suddenly he was hitting the ground again, this time tackled by his girlfriend.
“Jesus Christ,” he screamed. “Why am I everyone’s fucking punching bag today?!”
He tried to get up, but she pushed him back down, leaning all her weight on his shoulders. “Is it because John’s gay? Is that your problem? Are you that immature?”
His mouth hung open. “Gay? Why do you think he’s g-gay?” He heard the panicky edge in his voice.
“Oh, please, Bobby,” she said with a laugh as she leaned on him, her long hair falling into his face. “Everybody knows. He told Jubilee months ago. I heard he’s even got a boyfriend in the City.”
Bobby’s stomach dropped out from under him. And then he laughed. “Oh, come on, Rogue! If you believe every rumor that circulates in this place, you’re more naive than I thought!”
Rogue narrowed her eyes at him and snapped: “Admit it, Bobby Drake. John being gay has you totally freaked. You probably think everyone’s wondering about you since you were his best friend.” Bobby sputtered, trying to formulate some response, but she cut him off. “What is wrong with boys? You all think there’s such a thing a gay cooties!”
Bobby looked away. A boyfriend? It’s not possible! He decided, just as simple as that, not to believe it. Anytime Jubilee opened her mouth, a rumor was born. It was just better not to believe a word she said. Calm descended on him as Rogue sat up on his lap. He could feel the warmth growing in his groin. She laughed. “Mmm, this feels pretty good, big guy. Do I detect some, uh, movement in your position?”
He smirked. “I’m a gentleman, Marie, I’m not admitting anything. Look, I promise I’ll give John a chance, okay? If he says he wants to be an X-Man, then maybe he does.”
“There now, was that so, uh, hard?” She wiggled her butt on his lap again, laughing and blushing at her own unaccustomed crudeness.
Then Bobby recognized the role he could play: he could be the man. He had the girl; he could afford to be cool, even play the joker. “Okay, but I’m sorry, babe, I’m not going to kiss him just to make you feel better.”
“Really? Not even for the good of the X-Men?” Bobby gave a ferocious growl and flipped them over so he was on top. Rogue squealed with delight and said, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” She put a hand through his curls. “Just be friendly to him, okay? I like him; he’s got a good heart under all that snark.” She kissed her gloved forefinger and touched it to his lips. “And you are my brave hero no matter what, and someday I’m going to give you a night you’ll never forget.”
“Someday,” he echoed. He stood and offered her a hand. They left the gym with her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders. Let the girls look now, Bobby thought.
They decided to go outside and cool off in the last of the afternoon sun. Bobby had always liked the hours between classes and dinner when he could be alone, time to recover from a day of being social and public. But now, with extra practices and a girlfriend demanding more of his time, he felt a bit resentful. Then he remembered how many of those late afternoons had actually been spent with John, urgently exploring each other’s bodies.
They wandered down the long, winding driveway, past trees showing the first of their fall colors, towards Graymalkin Lane. Bobby was surprised to find John sitting on a bench just inside the school’s ornate black gates.
Rogue smiled with surprise, “What are you doing here?”
John looked them over, his eyes registering the cozy arrangement of their limbs. The look ended at Bobby’s eyes which he held for a second. “Someone’s picking me up. I’m going for dinner in the city.”
Bobby decided not to make anything of that. No way. But then he realized that John was kind of dressed up, at least for John — freshly showered, sparse moustache hairs shaved clean, hair slicked back, wearing the red sweater he had abandoned months ago, having declared it “too gay even for a boy band.”
“You have permission to go out on a school night?” Bobby asked skeptically.
“Sure,” John said vaguely, standing now and looking down the road through the bars of the fence.
“Really!” Bobby said to his back, his anger mounting despite his efforts to control it. “Scott signed you a permission slip?”
John turned back and scowled. “I’m sorry, I seemed to have missed the announcement that you were appointed hall monitor.”
“Teammates, boys,” Rogue said, detaching herself from Bobby and going to stand by John, watching the road with him. “We’re the new X-Men, remember?”
Bobby had to fight the urge to join them. On the one hand, he was insanely curious to know what — who— was coming; on the other hand, he really, really didn’t want to know. That was when he heard the sound of a high-performance engine coming down the road. He couldn’t help it; he ran to the gate and the three of them watched as a red 1969 Mustang convertible, buffed and chromed from grill to tailpipe, pulled to a stop outside. In the driver’s seat, a man in his 20s; thick, golden brown hair blowing in the breeze. Leather driving gloves, a long leather coat and big shades that screamed style. Before Bobby could ask who the hell…, John was already at the gate post, punching in the access code (acquired, no doubt, with the help of his nosy little buddy, Jones). Bobby and Rogue jumped back as the gate began sliding sideways. John ran through the gap and jumped into the passenger seat, grinning as he reached forward and turned on the sound system. Hard, cold dance music shook the air and, without a word, John and the man kissed. On the lips. Lingeringly.
Bobby was stunned, unable to move or speak. If Rogue hadn’t grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the car, he might have stayed there, frozen as the statuary on the front lawn.
“Hi,” she said in a voice that was a strange gumbo of polite and challenging. “I’m Rogue. Who might you be?”
“Ahh, Sweet Marie, the girl from Mississippi, henh?” The man spoke with a weird accent. Kind of…European? Bobby wasn’t sure. The man slapped John on the arm. “’Ey, you don’t tell me how beautiful dis Rogue is, John-John.” He whistled in appreciation. “She ‘as de eyes like de fire opal.”
Rogue smirked, and Bobby thought she wasn’t altogether displeased by the compliment, no matter how cheesy the cheesy cheesoid’s cheesy line had been. Bobby sounded shockingly like his father as he shouted over the music, “Listen, whoever-you-are, John can’t just leave the school without permission. He can’t go with you.”
The man cocked his head and smiled. He pulled off the shades and his eyes were glowing, red as lava. He’s another mutant! “You’re Bobby, right?” he said. “John-John, ‘e ‘as tol’ me lots about you.” The man’s gaze ran up and down his body in frank appraisal, and Bobby found himself taking a step behind Rogue. The man laughed. “Don’t you worry, kids, Remy will ‘ave your friend back ‘ome safe and soun’ in a few hours!”
John, for his part, coolly pulled a cigarette from a pack he’d fished from the glove compartment. With a click and scratch of his lighter, he lit up. “Don’t wait up, kids!” he said with a triumphant sneer as Remy threw the car into gear and squealed a big circle out onto the road, leaving tire marks in front of the gates. The sound of house music and laughter faded in the distance.
Bobby’s face was hot. “Fuck,” he breathed.
“Or something like that,” Rogue agreed.
Scott was waiting for them on the front steps of the mansion, hands folded over his chest. “Where did John Allerdyce just go?”
Bobby’s mouth dropped open. “How… how do you know about —?”
“Any time the gate opens, the security system turns on the cameras and informs me.”
Rogue let out a deep huffing breath. “Well, what were we supposed to do, Mr. Summers? We couldn’t exactly tie him up or nothin’.”
Scott shook his head. “No, that’s true. But I hear you’re all teammates now.” He turned to look at Bobby. “Maybe part of being a team is reminding him of the consequences of his actions.”
Bobby felt himself blushing. “But… he said he had permission!”
Scott cocked his head eloquently. “And you believed him?” Bobby cringed.
Rogue, in contrast, had not lost her composure. “We don’t know where he went,” she said. “Just out for dinner.”
Scott shook his head and, as he turned and disappeared inside, Bobby heard him mutter, “With Remy LeBeau. Great.”
Rogue sat heavily on the steps. “Shit. Poor John,” she said.
Bobby was about to reply that “poor John” always had the fun while “poor Bobby” got yelled at, when his phone rang. John! Phoning to gloat, no doubt. “Hello?”
“Bobby?” The familiar voice had dropped an octave since he last heard it and it took Bobby a second to react.
“Ronny! Hey, man, what’s happening?”
“I just… missed you, bro. Wanted to hear your voice.” His little brother actually sounded glad to be talking to him.
Bobby sat down beside Rogue with a big grin on his face. “Mom says you went out for football this year. How’s that going?” he asked.
“Great, great. Hey, listen. It’s about Mom and Dad. That’s why I’m phoning.”
“They driving you crazy? I know how they can get.” He smiled at Rogue and she smiled back encouragingly, taking his hand in hers. Bobby Drake, Big Brother was back in action. “You have to remember that just because they’re grown ups, they’re still just humans.”
“But you don’t understand, man!” Ronny replied, his voice rising. “They’re being total tools! I want to buy this Wii, right? I totally need it and they said if I want it, I have to earn the money.”
Bobby’s smile faded a bit. “Well, that’s kind of how it works, Ronny.”
“No! Remember when you wanted that snowboard? You told them it was, like, so important to you and they totally got it for you! The best one!”
Bobby had no answer for that. “Well, it was for my birthday, I guess, but…”
“And they said that with you at school and the high tuition and stuff, they can’t afford to get me everything I want. But I told them! I just want this one thing!”
Bobby removed his hand from Rogue’s and covered his eyes. “So, what, Ron? You want me to ask them for you?”
“No point. They’re like this stone wall, you know? Maybe you could lend me the money. Or it could be like my birthday gift for the next three years or something!”
“I don’t have the money,” Bobby said in a low voice.
“Come on, don’t be like that. You’re supposed to be my big brother!”
“I don’t have it!” Bobby shouted. “I don’t work, okay? I study and try to get good grades so I-I’ll have a future! If you want something that bad, you’ll just have to work for it.” The words sounded so pompous and stupid that he couldn’t believe he’d said them.
“Okay! You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, Bobby!”
“Don’t call me names, Ronny.”
“I didn’t say you were an asshole; I said you’re acting like… Never mind, just never mind! It’s always the same fucking story, isn’t it?”
“What? What is?”
“Come on, Bobby, you know! You get it all. You’re the golden boy! Anyone who fucking phones the house gets a full report.” Ronny’s voice arched up high in a scarily accurate parody of their mother’s sing-song. “‘Oh, yes, my Bobby is doing so well at his private, oh so fancy PREP PRIVATE CRAP school!’”
Bobby felt a sharp pain move through him. He rose to his feet. “Ronny…”
“‘What? Ronny? Who’s that? Oh you mean the other one! I’m not sure what he’s up to. I’m sure he’s probably fine!’”
Bobby moved down the steps. He couldn’t control his voice, couldn’t make himself stop yelling. “Why are you such a little prick?! You’ve treated me like shit for the past two years! What did I do to you?”
“You’re just like them! If I vanished off the face of the earth, you wouldn’t notice till my report card came back blank!”
“Fuck you, it’s not true! You’re my brother, I-I care about what happens —”
“NO! You just… just have your little private school circle jerk bullshit life! You’re no use to me, man! I don’t need you!” Ronny hung up.
Bobby folded his phone and put it carefully back in his pocket. His hand was shaking. He squinted up at the sun which was just disappearing behind the trees. He thought he could almost feel the chill in the air.
“He’s 14, right?” Marie asked, standing up to put an arm around his waist. “Fourteen-year-old boys should all be put in quarantine for a few years.”
“Whatever,” Bobby mumbled. “I’m pretty sure they shouldn’t be abandoned.”
***
Jean sat marking papers at her desk in the biology lab, slowly becoming aware of an annoying sound. Her concentration broken, she looked for the source and found that she herself was tapping her pen nervously on the desktop. “Looks like you’re getting on your own nerves, there, Jean,” she said out loud, darkly amused. “You and you are heading straight for divorce if you can’t learn to live together.” She put the pen down and stretched. She had a tendency to hunch forward as she worked, and lately it had been causing cricks in her neck. Getting old already.
She thought about the nature of identity; how we are all more than one person. Before her life was done, she will have lived as child, lover, wife, teacher, X-Man… Somehow, she mused, humans must reconcile this multiplicity into one coherent self. These ideas weren’t new, but they had taken on a special resonance for her, though she couldn’t say why. Lately, she had felt like someone was looking over her shoulder, and she had the horrific sense that if she turned and caught the spy, it would have her face.
She recalled a strange moment from earlier in the afternoon when she was running a test on herself with the new holographic encephalography imager. She had wanted to see if she could find the source of her losses of control. Viewing the results in real time, all had seemed normal. But then her attention had strayed for a second, and in that second something had changed. She saw the bizarre wave patterns only in her peripheral vision and ever so briefly, but when she turned her attention back to the display, everything was normal again. She ran a playback of the session, but the anomaly was not recorded. “Come on,” she had murmured, like trying to coax a shy cat from behind the couch, “I know you’re there; stop hiding.” And even though the phenomenon remained aloof, she knew what she had seen — and it had been beautiful.
“Dr. Grey?” came a voice from the door.
She turned and smiled. “Hello, Doug, come in. How’s your paper going?”
His eyes shone with excitement as he came and stood next to her, gesticulating as he talked. “Excellent! I’ve studied the word ‘danger’ in 193 living and dead languages to see if the phonemes show any patterns. I want to see if the sounds are themselves emotionally loaded. Do they correlate to other words that represent stressors?”
She found herself smiling up at him, and after a few seconds, she reached out and spontaneously hugged his small frame. “I am so proud of you, Doug. You have a wonderful power and you’re using it so intelligently!” She felt him go a bit rigid. Fifteen-year-olds weren’t exactly the biggest teddy bears in the world, but she didn’t want to let go. It was if the world was suddenly too big and dangerous for someone as vulnerable as Doug. She felt a fierce desire to protect him from predators.
“Uh, thanks, Dr. Grey,” he said with obvious embarrassment. He pulled away suddenly. “Hi, Mr. Summers!” She looked up to see Scott leaning in the doorway, and she could see he was repressing a smile.
She looked up at Doug who was blushing hotly. “Well, keep up the good work,” she told him. “I look forward to reading your paper.” The boy made small noises of acknowledgement and pushed past Scott out of the room. Jean was a bit embarrassed herself. “I don’t know what’s with me these days. I’ve become so sentimental.”
Scott came in and sat on her desk in front of her, cupping her chin and bending to kiss her softly on the lips.
“How’s your day going?” she asked him.
“John Allerdyce just left with Remy LeBeau,” he said in what might be best described as a classic deadpan.
“What?! How does he even know Gambit? And left for where?” Remy LeBeau — codename: Gambit — had been a classmate of theirs for a few months before announcing that he was better off without Charles Xavier’s help. She had felt the same affection for Remy that she did for John. They had good hearts despite the poor choices they always seemed to make. And that made her think about Logan.
“I have no idea where they met,” Scott said. “Last I heard, Gambit’s become a jewel thief.”
Jean put her head in her hands. “Oh, John…” She look up at Scott. “What are you going to do when he comes back?”
Scott ran his fingers gently through her hair. “I have no fucking clue. Every time I want to discipline that boy, I feel like Charles is holding me back. But the Professor won’t deal with him either, so John ends up getting away with whatever he wants.”
“Charles feels like he failed the boy.”
“Well, we’re not doing him any favors by letting him turn into a delinquent.”
Jean had to laugh. “Oh, Scott, for someone born in the 80s, you sound so 1950s. Look, John is still a good student. He works hard on his assignments.”
“There’s more to a student’s responsibilities around here than just grades,” he answered gruffly, but then he abruptly smiled at her. “You’re not sentimental, you know. You’re becoming maternal. You care about all these kids. You’re like a fierce mother ready to protect her young. One day, I want you to be the fierce mother of our kids.”
His words touched her profoundly, but also made her feel guilty. X-Man, teacher, scientist… Maybe there wasn’t room for ‘mother’ alongside all the other entities crowding her body. Would Scott still want her if she didn’t want a child?
She stood up and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her in return and for a moment there was peace in her soul. But just for a moment. From deep inside her, a voice — like an echo of an echo — called across a great void:
Akhsîfni divrr’rBrekhti Dràvan! The fire, the fire, the blood on the grass. Rise again, the dead, rise from the chasm… Let loose! Let loose!
Looking over Scott’s shoulder, her eyes glowed red and gold, a star straining to burst free.