Chapters:
1. Normal"The next time you feel like showing off?" The professor's gaze pinned them where they stood, disappointment and disapproval magnified beyond words. He implicated them both in the prank, regardless of who had started it and who had only tried to mitigate its effects.
"Don't," he said finally, dismissing them with a turn of his head. "It's time for us to go."
Bobby released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, waiting for Scott's gaze to rake over them sternly before he fell into step behind the professor. The others followed, but for Storm who waited pointedly while they joined their classmates. She was right behind them as they made their way through the still and silent crowd.
"Did you see the look on his face?" John whispered, poking him in the ribs as they shuffled along with the others.
Bobby flinched away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Shut up," he muttered, shooting a furtive glance back at Storm. They were in enough trouble already.
"Come on," John insisted. "It was classic! Didn't mean for the fire to get quite that big, but, you know--"
"You could have hurt him!" Bobby glared down at the ground. John had been getting steadily more obnoxious since they'd arrived, culminating in the cigarette explosion, and they'd be lucky if they weren't grounded the second they got back.
"With you around?" John sounded way too casual about the whole thing, and Bobby couldn't for the life of him figure out why. "Not a chance."
The pyrokinetic flirted with Rogue, sure, and he liked to make his point as much as the next person, but this was a little beyond the norm. John knew when to back down and let it go. Or at least, he usually listened when Bobby told him to back down and let it go. If he hadn't been showing off for Rogue, what was he trying to prove?
"Heads up," John hissed, bumping him to avoid the suddenly mobile passersby. The hallway came to life around them as they turned the corner, and Bobby saw the glint in John's eye before he even opened his mouth. "Hey, wanna make me a snowball?"
"Can't you just pretend to be normal for one afternoon?" The words burst out of him before he thought, and he saw the reaction flicker across his friend's face too quickly to read.
Then John looked away, hooking his thumbs in his pockets as he unconsciously mimicked Bobby's defeated posture. "Normal isn't everything, Drake." His voice was strangely subdued.
A rush of cold air hit him full in the face, reassuringly familiar on this bizarre night. He leaned into the freezer and just breathed it in, letting the chill wash over him. This, at least, he knew. This was part of him.
This was Bobby Drake with his head in the freezer.
He sighed, stepping back and giving the various contents a critical glance. There was no lack of choices. Ice cream requests were filled faithfully every week, and he had tried to no avail to find out which of the staff was responsible so he could thank them.
Despite the exotic appeal of cherry bubblegum, moose tracks, and grasshopper pie, he decided to go the more familiar route. He'd had enough surprises for one night, and the fact that he was ambivalent about the entire situation only made it more unsettling. Grabbing a carton of vanilla and a spoon, he plunked himself down at the table and started in.
First spoonful. John had kissed him. Just up and kissed him, out of the blue, with no reason or warning. One minute, math homework, the next, random kissing. It was enough to make him wonder if his friend was resorting to new extremes to avoid studying.
Second spoonful. Rogue had seen the whole thing. He knew John hadn't meant her to--scratch that, he didn't know. He had no idea what had been going through John's mind. He still didn't have the faintest idea what John meant or didn't mean.
Third spoonful. The glare Jubilee had thrown his way as he ran out of the library after Rogue told him louder than words that she hadn't been the only one watching. So now he was going to have half the school on his case for hurting someone he'd never meant to hurt, and he didn't even know why.
Fourth spoonful. Half the school started with Kitty, with whom Rogue had sought solace after the library incident. She had barred him from their room immediately, and he couldn't help noticing that she hadn't even been in her pajamas when she threw him out. Was there anyone who didn't ignore lights out these days?
Fifth spoonful. He doubted it. With his luck, anyone who hadn't actually been watching would know by morning, and by "anyone" he mostly meant Rogue's erstwhile guardian. Half the school definitely ended with--
He put his spoon down, staring at the door in horror. Logan glared back at him. Couldn't there be just one person--preferably this one--who wasn't wandering the halls at twelve-thirty in the morning?
"Doesn't anybody sleep around here?" Logan grumbled, his tone disgusted but definitely not homicidal. That had to be a good sign. He must not know yet... but could he smell fear?
"Apparently not," Bobby muttered, eyeing the door longingly.
He couldn't take it anymore. Jerking his coat over his shoulders, he pushed himself to his feet. He could feel their eyes on him as he headed for the hatch. "I'm tired of this kids' table stuff," he snapped, tossing the words back at them as the steps lowered themselves to the ground. "I'm going out there."
Rogue's voice made him turn, a pleading expression on her face. "But they told us to stay here!"
Her voice made him turn... but it was Bobby's gaze he sought. "Do you always do what you're told?" he demanded, willing his friend to understand. He couldn't sit here any longer, trapped as surely as they had been at the Drakes' home in Boston. He wouldn't wait passively for them to find him, to strip away every illusion of safety and make him helpless again. He couldn't wait.
But Bobby didn't answer, and Rogue wasn't enough to make him stay. He walked off of the Blackbird and out into the snow, kicking up little drifts of the white stuff with every step. His power was fire, yet he couldn't seem to escape the ice.
Pain, sharp and shattering inside his head as he clawed his way back to consciousness. Fingers clutching his, a grip hard enough to warm the cold even through her gloves. His groan as he tried to lift his head, and a whimper that was the only sound she let herself make. They were still alive.
"I've gotta find John," he whispered, blue eyes staring into hers. "You be all right?"
She swallowed, her attempt at a nod making her wince. Somehow he found the hatch, fumbling his way through and following tracks that the wind had yet to erase. Whatever had happened to them had to have happened to John too. He couldn't have made it to the spillway yet--could he?
"John!" He could see the shadow of his friend up ahead, walking, trudging, pausing at the sound of his name. He broke into a run, the snow not slowing him in the slightest. He caught up to John easily, brought up short by the wariness on his friend's face. "Hey... you--did you feel that? You okay?"
The other boy nodded slowly. "You?"
"Yeah," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Yeah, I'm good. Listen--come on back with me, okay? We're gonna take the jet and get out of here. Get up in the air, at least, see what's going on." The words spilled out of him, stumbling a little in his haste to hold John's attention. "You were right--we can't just sit around doing nothing."
The moment stretched out, scaring him enough that his palms started to go cold as he waited on John's reply. Finally, though, the echo of a familiar smirk flashed across the pyrokinetic's face. "Yeah," he said at last. "Let's go."
He breathed out in relief, breath frosting in the cold air. John slung an arm over his shoulders as they turned to retrace their steps, and that simple gesture sent a grateful flush all the way to his toes. His power was ice, yet he couldn't seem to escape the fire.