X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ I am Death ❯ Return of the lost boy ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story except for Rose, her, I do own.

 

I am Death

 

Chapter 5: Return of the lost boy

 

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After the final class for the day, I decided to go out. It was a beautiful day with the snow-covered ground glistering under a faint sun. The cold was not freezing, but rather pleasant as I walked on a path leading towards the park. As the fountain came into sight, I realized there was someone there. I felt a presence tingling in my nerve-ends. Cursing over my own curiosity, I drew closer to find out who it might be.

 

A young man half by half sat on the margin of the fountain. His clothes were shabby and dirty. He was very thin, as if he hadn't had a decent meal in some weeks. Over all, there was something about him that looked very haggard.

 

At the sounds of my approaching footsteps, he lifted his head. Our eyes met, and I felt myself flinch, and then I froze. His eyes burned like those ones of dying man, plagued with fever. I felt as if lightening had struck me, and then I realized whom he was.

 

“Pyro?”

 

He frowned, and drew the thin jacket closer around his shivering body.

 

“How do you know my name?” His voice was cold and reserved, but his eyes seemed to clear a bit by the sound of me calling him by his real name. The lustre in them became a little less dim.

 

I realized that I almost stood hidden behind a hedge, and so I stepped out to make sure he could see me.

 

“I am Rose.”

 

I could see awe emerge in his features, but it soon disappeared again. He jerked his head and frowned.

 

“Yea, yea, but how do you know my name?” I felt a smug plaster itself on my face.

 

“I've heard of you, John Allerdyce, the lost boy.” He sniggered at the sound of me calling him a `lost boy'. Every inch of his body, and his posture expressed deprecation. There was such a bitterness tainted across his features, as if he'd faced a long and hard winter.

 

“So that is what they call me… Can't believe that I came back to this damned place. They probably don't even want me here anymore.” He muttered, more to himself than to me.

It struck me how different he looked and seemed to be, from what I had imagined. At the mention of he being a traitor, I'd expected someone a lot more… malevolent. I could see nothing in this young man that displayed any sign of, evil.

 

“You are wrong John, the professor will welcome you back.”

 

“Oh, and why would you think that exactly?” His voice was low and hostile, as if he wanted to make the question sound like a threat. Though his spiky attitude did not frighten me, I felt a bit sad about how utterly miserable he appeared to be.

 

“Because this place is a safe haven for everyone, no matter what our deeds might have been.” He seemed to be taken aback by my reply. He flushed, as if he was reflecting over what I had just told him. Then he smirked, and I got a feeling that I needed to scream. I had never seen so much, and yet so little glister in two eyes before. It was frightening to witness, much more frightening than his I-don't-give-a-sh*t-attitude.

 

“Hn, whatever, I still can't believed I was stupid enough to come back.”

This time, it was my turn to smirk.

 

“You don't know, or you don't want to know?” He threw an angry glance at me, but didn't reply. He was no longer just shivering; he was shaking throughout his whole body after sitting still while chatting with me.

 

“You look cold.” I determined. He rolled his eyes and replied with sarcasm:

 

“Yea, tell me something I don't know already.” He smiled wickedly, but I thought I could se a hint of playfulness in his eye.

 

“Well, seems kind of dumb to me to be wandering around with a summer's jacket in the middle of the winter.” I taunted him, while my eyes sparkled with humour and irony.

 

“There was actually a thought behind that…” he never finished the sentence. As if he suddenly remembered where he was, and why he was here, his eyes turned cold again. The playful sparkle I'd seen, burned down and died again. I could have sword I saw his soul withdraw into his spiky shell again.

 

I walked a bit further, so I could see his face a bit more clearly. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his whole face had a tense and worn look to it. This was the face of a man who had lost a lot of weight in a short time.

 

“We should get you inside, you need to eat something…” A haunted grin appeared on his face.

 

“Do you think you can save me?” He taunted me, flicking his lighter open, and closing it again.

 

“I'm not trying to save you. To say that I believe I can save you would be flattering myself, I am merely trying to help you save yourself.” I replied slyly, `cause whatever he might say, I knew that he was just as afraid of me as he'd wished I were of him. Poor guy…

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He was angry; I could see it in his aura. I swear that if looks could kill… yea, you know what I mean.

 

“Because I do not judge a man based on what he's done, anyone can make a mistake. I meet everyone with greetings and let their heart, and their character speak for them. In the end, you deeds will be weighed and measured, but not before. Therefore it is not in my place to convict a man, nor hand out prejudices.” He snorted condescending.

 

“Sounds like naïve crap to me.” He replied. I nodded slightly, and walked further towards him, until I was only inches away. I bend down, so our eyes were in the same height.

 

“Maybe so, but don't tell me that you are to stupid to see an opportunity to save yourself when it stares you in the face.”

 

After that, he didn't protest any further, and let me lead him to the house. We met many students on our way towards the kitchen, but none of them seemed to recognize him. I knew that Bobby, Rogue, or any of the other X-men would however, and just hoped that we wouldn't bump into any of them quite yet. I wanted Pyro to eat something before we went through that procedure. Though me might think he could hide how weak he was, he didn't know that I was connected to him in a way. `Cause though I might have a body of my own, my fate is still the same as his, and I could smell his weakness a mile away.'

 

We entered the kitchen and found it empty, to my great relieve. I gave him a slight push towards one of the chairs at the high table in the centre.

 

“Sit.” I ordered him. He was smart enough not to argue with me, luckily for him. He just tumbled down on the chair furthest to the left. Then he sat there, sulking as I searched through the cupboards, trying to find something decent for him to eat. `Nutrition' was the word I had in mind. It didn't have to taste very well, as long as there was plenty of nutrition in it.

I found noodles in the bottom cupboard; it would make a good base to build on. Then I went to see what I could dig up from there. I found wok in one of the cases, great! Now I needed protein, and since something told me that beans wouldn't go well with this, I decided for meat. Somehow I got a feeling he would appreciate it more than beans too.

As I prepared the wok pan, I turned around to throw a glance at him where he sat, playing with his lighter. He looked up, and raised one eyebrow in a defensive way.

 

“What?”

 

I decided to tease him a bit.

 

“Well, Bobby told me that you were always the funny one. I wonder however, because I have honestly met dead guys who were more humorous than you.” At the mention of that, he actually grinned a bit, and not in the empty and hollow way. I could actually see some fire sweep by in his eyes.

 

Then I turned around again, or else I would have burned the wok-thingy I was preparing. The vegetables had begun to look a bit roasted, and the meat was no longer red and flabby. To my great surprise, the mess actually had begun to smell pretty good. ”Ha!” I thought, ”I can cook. In your face, oh divine highest power!” I felt my mouth form into a grin. This felt rather good actually. I didn't need its enlightenment to create something; I could just do it myself. This independence thing had actually begun to seem appealing to me.

 

I got a plate and shovelled the food onto it.

“There,” I said and put the plate down in front of him. “Eat, and no complaining, `cause I'm no chef, just a girl with a short fuse who can't cook.”

 

To my satisfaction, he didn't question me. He picked up the fork, and began eating in silence. I decided it was best to clean up the slight mess I'd made, and began to wash the dishes and put everything back where it belonged.

As I turned to se how he was doing, I found that he was done already. He'd returned to his leaned back flickering with the lighter, the grumpy look had also returned to his face. Since he was done I took the plate and washed it off together with the knife and fork. As I was done I went over to the table and sat down at the opposite side of him.

 

“You know you should go and talk to the professor.”

 

He didn't answer, just stared at the flame transfer from his lighter to his palm. I fastened my eyes on him, and with a slight telepathic push, forced him to meet my eyes. As his brown orbs met mine, I suddenly understood why he'd tried to avoid looking at me. I saw shame, in its pure state, staring back at me.

 

“Oh, come on. It's nothing more than pique and a diminished ego.” He tore his eyes away from mine, but I still had time enough to see the anger return to him.

 

“Easy for you to say.”

 

“Trust me, if there is one thing in this world I know, then it is shame. I carry the weight of many souls on my shoulders.”

 

He threw an odd glance at me, obviously perplex about the statement I had just made. I realized that he was looking at me as if I were the strangest person he'd ever met. The thought of `If he only knew…' popped into my head, and before I knew it, I was giggling. That was obviously not a good thing to do in that moment

 

“What?!” His voice was just as furious as the fire I could see burn within him.

 

“You were looking at me in a way that made me wonder if I where huge and green with antennas on my head or something.” I replied, fighting furiously to smother the laugh I felt rising within. The corner of his mouth curled a bit.

 

“Guess I did.”

 

I got a grip of myself. This was not the time to be cracking jokes. I had to get him to the professor before we met Bobby or Rogue, because if we did, it could easily turn into an argument, which resulted in him leaving again.

 

“Come, it is time to talk to the professor.” I commanded and began walking. Behind me, I could hear him sigh heavily, but then his footsteps told me he was following close behind.

 

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We stopped outside the professors' door. I lifted my hand to knock, but froze before I did so.

“Are you ready?” I asked. He seemed surprised and I noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.

 

“You are not coming with me?”

I frowned, had he expected me to? Why would I do that, this was not my fight.

 

“No, this is one thing you have to do alone. I will wait here for you.” Without further discussion, I knocked at the door. There was a moment of silence, long enough for the thought `what if he's not here?' to rush through my head. Then we heard a “Come in.” from the other side of the door.

I let the door slide open and then gave Pyro a slight nudge. He flinched, and then he walked into the professors' office. The door closed behind him, and I was left outside, waiting. I could have tried to hear what they were saying, but I was afraid that I would loose control, like I'd done down in the practise room. Instead, I put my ear against the door to devote myself to some old and honest ease dropping.

Through our connection to one another, I could sense Pyros' unease about being in the room with the professor. Though his unease, it seemed to be going fine at first, but then I began to feel the ominous heat return to him. It became hotter and hotter, fire danced behind my eyelids and anger caused my hands to shake. Finally the warmth reached its peak. I felt like burning on the inside, whilst rage drove me to the brink of madness. But deeply hidden underneath the hatred, I could suddenly see his denial. I groaned, this was just great; he was too thick headed to admit his mistake.

 

“Come on, come one Pyro. Admit it, you were wrong.” I muttered to myself. If he refused to admit his mistake, even to himself, then he was lost. There would be no going back if it came down to that. Carefully, but firmly, I gave him one of my mental pushes. Not a real push, just a little nudge. The free will is not something to meddle with, it's dangerous and wrong, but somewhere inside, I felt that he wanted to admit his mistake, though his pride forbade him to do so. Therefore, I gave him a little nudge. Almost instantly, I felt his rage swagger, and then withdraw.

 

He'd passed the first test, and he'd done it with distinction.

 

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I waited outside for another ten minutes or so, before I felt the professor call me with his mind. I rose from the place I'd sat down outside the door, and pushed it open. I saw Pyro stand by the window, with his back to me. The professor sat by his desk and he smiled friendly as I drew closer.

 

(“Rose?”) I heard his voice whisper inside my head. Obviously he didn't want Pyro to hear our conversation.

 

(“Yes professor?”)

 

(“I have spoken to Pyro, and we have agreed he will stay here. Though he's come a long way already, he still has further way to go. I will ask the other teachers and X-men to keep an eye on him, and would appreciate if you would also agree to do so.”) I nodded.

 

(“Of course professor, I will do my best.”) I really meant it. For both the professors', and my own sake, I would do the best I could.

Xavier nodded, looking pleased. (“Good.”) Then he returned to speaking aloud.

 

“I would very much like to continue our training together, if you are willing to participate of course.” He said. I bend my head down as a sign that I was.

 

“Very well, then I shall put it in my schedule. Saturday mornings at 10 will be a good time.” He opened a black folder and wrote something on a paper in it.

 

“You are both free to leave.”

 

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As I stepped out the door and shut it behind me, I felt that something was wrong. All sounds were too close somehow. A student coughing at the other end of the corridor sounded as close as if he'd been standing there, right beside me. And then it began, the whispers. A flood of voices and images came washing over me. I tore my mouth open, gasping for air, drowning in the flood. The whispers grew louder and louder until I felt like the filled every inch of me, imaged flashing by in a blur, to fast to make some sort of sense. Then I felt myself swagger, close to tipping over and falling flat on the floor. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and could barely exist anymore.

Then I suddenly felt a strong arm grip my elbow, pulling me up standing.

 

“Hey, hey Rose! Are you okay?” A voice called from miles away. And then it was over; in a second it was all gone. The whispers had been silenced, and I could breath again. Gasping, I drew one stinging breath. My throat was as dry as the Sahara desert and it burned like fire. I looked up and saw Pyro was the one holding me up. He looked startled and peered at me through wide eyes.

 

“Y-yes… I'm alright now.” I rasped.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Don't know. It has never happened before.” For myself I thought that maybe it had something to do with my break into the professors' mind this morning. I decided not to tell Pyro about it yet, and though he didn't look convinced, he didn't ask anything further on the matter.

 

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A/N: Okay there, Pyro has arrived, are you all happy now? Now it's only left to see where this story will take us (*smirk*)