Freak (Seven on a String)
an X-Men movieverse story
by dirty diana
Bobby actually thought that it would be alright. He thought he could tell them. That he could show them, in technicolour, what he was, and everything would be okay.
Bobby was an idiot sometimes. It made John angry.
Humans didn't get it. Humans wouldn't ever get it, and he'd always be the freak, the freak who could freeze hot tea in its cup. The freak who could make fire fall out of the sky. The freak they were afraid of.
When the sirens started squealing, that's what John wanted to show him. That they were stuck on the outside. Together.
Bobby doesn't remember that much about it, really. He remembers hearing the thud when Logan fell. He remembers the look on John's face.
John gets this look, his eyes go dark. Like he's mesmerised by the fire, like it's a part of him. It scares the hell out of Bobby, but he's never known why. Till now.
And he remembers the look on Rogue's face. Like the same fire that John loved to touch was burning her. Like she couldn't stand to hold on for a second longer.
He wonders if that's what she felt like when he kissed her.
The skin on Rogue's palm still itches, where she touched John. She really wishes that she hadn't, now, but she couldn't think of anything else to do at the time.
And her head hurts.
"You okay?" Bobby asks her gently.
"Sure," she answers, a little too loudly. She's looking at John, sitting across from her in the jet. He's looking back at her.
Then he winks.
The anger hits her right in the middle of her chest. He knows. He knows exactly what he must feel like, pounding inside her head.
She's not going to feel sorry for him.
John got up to go for a walk, cause he's tired of the looks they're all giving him. Like he broke some rule, some cardinal mutant rule.
If you couldn't use your powers, then he wanted to know what was the point, anyway?
In the darkness, Rogue appears out of nowhere. He grins at her. "Hey, Rogue. Was it good for you?"
"Hey, don't act like you didn't enjoy it."
"Oh, yeah, it was real nice, Johnny." She starts to pull off her right glove, by the tip of her index finger. "Maybe we should do it again."
He takes a step back, when she says that. That makes her feel better.
"Whatever. Just go ahead and give me the lecture, then get lost, okay?"
She doesn't want to lecture him. She wants to hit him in the face. She's so wired, right now, wired and angry. It was worse than with Logan. Logan was angry, but he was tired, too.
John's just...she doesn't even know the word for it.
"Did you talk to Bobby?" she asks him finally.
"You're his girlfriend. Maybe you should talk to him."
"I'm not the one he's mad at."
"Whatever." John says.
"I can't go back there." Bobby doesn't realise that he's spoken out loud, until John answers.
John's staring into the campfire. Not doing anything to it, just staring. Like he's never seen fire before. "So?"
"So, they're my family, and they hate me."
John rolls his eyes. "They don't hate you. Nobody hates you."
"They hate me, and it's all your fault." He's working hard to stay angry. If he stays angry, then he won't lose it.
"Bobby, you fucking loser," he repeats it slower, "nobody hates you." Then adds, "and if you can't go back, that's not my fault."
John's playing with his lighter, click. Watching as Bobby says goodnight to Rogue, both of them so shy.
John doesn't get that either. Bobby thinks it's their biggest problem, the touching thing. Anyone can see that it's not.
"You were right," Bobby says when they're alone again.
"Course I was." Click, click. "Right about what?"
"It's not your fault that I'm a freak."
"You're not a freak."
Bobby raises his hand, just the tips of his fingers, and John's lighter goes ice cold in his palm. "Yeah, I am."
John grins, so hard that he's almost laughing. "Yeah, you are."