-A/N-: Revelations of the pretender.

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The very moment John’s dark eyes twitched open from his deep, uneasy sleep, he first noticed the searing sunlight that filtered straight down upon his bedspread, illuminating his pale skin. He blinked twice, clearing his head. He finally took notice of the faint and indistinct noises of school-related activities and exhaled silently.

For all the days he’d already spent at the mansion since his return, he still expected to wake up thinking he was still in the company of the Brotherhood - as though returning to the school had all been a dream.

A long, long dream filled with familiar faces and nice memories that he never had whilst with Magneto’s faction of radicals.

But it wasn’t a dream, and those vague noises of the mutant institution that he had once grown accustomed to in the past had proved it.

He was up all night yesterday, watching some horror movie with the others whilst sitting beside Rogue. The intoxicating smell of her hair still lingered with him, and he didn’t want it to ever leave.

Then he remembered the news, and his conversations with Logan and Bobby. And they had both made him realise one very important thing: Marie D’Ancanto meant more to him than any other thing in the world. Even Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants.

As John climbed out of bed, he was almost certain that Charles Xavier knew he was awake, because seconds later, a voice resounded in his head. A voice that belonged to the Professor, of course.

‘John, if you would be so kind as to meet in my office as soon as you’re done what you’re doing. Ororo, Hank and I need to confer at some length with you.’

And he knew he should have anticipated something like this to happen sooner or later. Taking an unhurried step towards his closet, absentmindedly noticing that Pietro’s bed was once again empty that morning, he made it a point to take his time in preparing for his rendezvous with Storm, Hank and Charles Xavier.

-

John knocked once on the wooden door to Xavier’s study before entering without waiting for a response. He was greeted by the Professor and a blue, furry man-creature, who were both seated across from each other at the large mahogany desk.

“John, you’re here,” Xavier said, stating the obvious. “This here is Doctor Hank McCoy, Secretary of Mutant Affairs,” he paused to gesture at the blue mutant, “And because of his, ah, peculiar outward appearance, he has adopted the alias Beast.”

I wonder why, John thought dryly to himself.

“I believe, under different circumstances, that you’ve both seen and heard about each other,” the Professor smiled, like the epitome of patience that has forever clashed with John’s personality of impulsiveness.

The blue man turned in his chair to fix John with a piercing gaze. “Well, if it isn’t Mister Hotshot, pyromaniac of the twenty-first century himself,” the Beast spoke with an absolute straight face.

John made it a point to stare right back with hardened eyes. He didn’t want to be seen as someone who’d back down from a fight. Ever. He’d seen this mutant before—both on the news and at Alcatraz, thrashing Magneto’s ‘pawns’ into oblivion. But this was his first time ever being so close to this Hank McCoy.

“Tell me, young fellow,” Henry continued, adjusting his glasses sagely, “what kind of joy did you find in setting flying cars on fire and nearly killing all of us in the process?”

John’s eyes narrowed, feeling almost affronted.

… What?

He was used to being on the receiving end of such gutsy comments from some of the students here who used to know him before his changeover. And that was understandable. This coming from the Secretary of Mutant Affairs however, was uncalled for.

“Hank,” Xavier said warningly, “I would appreciate you not trying to dishearten the boy with your harrowing remarks.”

The Doctor grinned, his wrinkled, blue face suddenly alight with easygoing kindliness.

“I was only pulling his chains, Charles.”

“I know. But I doubt very much that John welcomes your opinions on his past decisions.”

John wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed with Xavier for speaking as though he weren’t even in the room, or whether he should just be amused.

“Sorry,” Hank McCoy said then, turning back to John with an apologetic smile, “Let’s try this again shall we? I’m Hank McCoy,” the Beast stood abruptly and extended a hand, “call me Hank. Or Beast. Or something other than Henry.”

“Pyro,” John said shortly, shaking the man’s furry, blue hand curtly. He liked using his mutant name to assume authority and confidence. At least it gave him self-assurance among these two men. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you like, have to attend stupid conferences at the White House and discuss Mutant Affairs with your various other diplomats whilst busying yourself with stacks of papers like you’re meant to be doing?”

Hank looked hard at John for a few moments before replying. “Just because I work as the official Secretary of Mutant Affairs doesn’t necessarily mean I can’t visit my old friend Charles Xavier if I ever wanted to. I used to be an X-Man, you know?”

“I figured that part out myself,” John replied idly.

“Brilliant,” Hank said, settling back down into his leather-backed chair, which creaked and groaned under his great bulk. “Now Charles, when did you say Ororo would get here? She’s late.”

“Yes, most unusual for Storm to be late,” Xavier muttered, “but she’ll be here. Nothing to worry about.”

“And why am I here?” John cut in, impatiently. He was never tolerant with the Professor, although he knew he should ultimately be grateful that the old man had been so forgiving towards him.

“You’ll find out as soon as Storm gets here.”

And as if on cue, Ororo Munroe breezed into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” the white-haired woman said briskly, “had a small problem with one of the students during class.”

Xavier smiled understandably. “Miss Vidette, I believe?”

Storm nodded, “She tried to translocate water. It ended up drenching Jasper Noel. I had to clear that mess up.”

“Yes. Well, take a seat and let’s not hold young Allerdyce here up any more than we should.”

Storm glanced once at John before taking her seat, while Xavier began talking.

“I believe you’ve heard the news about Magneto’s return to power.”

That had been directed at John, obviously. And he didn’t really know how to respond just yet. Too quick a direct answer may prove to be a wrong move. So he decided to play it safe.

“And?”

Xavier leaned forward in his chair to take a better look at John. “How has this affected you? Do you plan on going back?”

John was ready to swear that he felt the man before him probe his mind for deep secrets that he knew he never even had concerning the issue.

“Why ask me when you already know the answer?” John’s voice was flat. He wasn’t sure if Xavier knew of the talk he had last night with Logan, but he was sure Xavier knew the answer to the question that he had posed seconds before.

The Professor was smiling openly. “I may know the answer, yes, but for the sake of the two other people in this room…” he gestured to both Storm and Beast meaningfully.

“No,” John replied immediately. “Don’t plan on going back. At all.”

And that was the truth. Or at least he wanted himself to believe that it wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t like he hated Erik Lensherr or anything. He respected the man more than he would ever admit to respecting Charles Xavier. He liked Magneto because he was headstrong in his beliefs. Magneto would do anything to get his way, be it the massacre of the human race, or the manipulation of other homo superior mutants. Magneto didn’t care, as long as he got what he wanted. Xavier, on the other hand, had a completely different ideal towards achieving a similar goal.

“It’s wonderful that you don’t plan on running after Mister Metal again,” Hank said cheerily, “It’s still intriguing that you thought about joining him in his conquest to bludgeon the human race. I hear that he’s an exceptional strategist.”

John quirked an eyebrow, not in the least bit amused. What McCoy said was true though. Magneto was a brilliantly talented strategist. And when Mystique had been with them, they were an unstoppable duo of dangerous deceit.

“Have you taken some time to think about the offer I proposed?” Xavier questioned, almost nonchalantly. But John wasn’t fooled.

In truth, he hadn’t really thought about it since the fight he had with Drake the other night in Rogue’s room. Being one of the X-Men… What did it take?

“Think you’re up for it?” Ororo asked, talking to him for the first time since she entered the room. Her voice was calm, gentle even. And John believed that maybe even she had forgiven him for his past transgression.

He thought about the other X-Men. Rogue… Bobby… And perhaps Kitty and Piotr as well. But then he thought about Scott Summers and Jean Grey. Logan? Ororo? Them too. And Warren had agreed to be one just a few days ago. Hank McCoy had been part of the team once…

But the one person who registered in his mind was Rogue.

Rogue. Rogue. Rogue. Marie.

That was all it took to decide. He didn’t believe he needed any more time to think this through.

“I’m in. I accept the offer.”

Xavier nodded, smiling as though John had somehow passed an unspoken test. And maybe in a way, he had. And maybe, in a way, Xavier knew how he truly felt. About Rogue.

“Fantastic, my boy. You’ve made a good choice. Leather would look great on you,” the Beast said innocently.

John was sure he was pulling his chains again, but he only shrugged. Hey, maybe he did look good in leather.

“This is indeed good news,” the Professor said then, “And we welcome you with open arms, John. Now, before you go,” he looked over to Storm, “I believe Ororo here has something that belongs to you which she wants to return to your possession…”

The woman walked over to John and placed a familiar item in his hand. His wrist igniter. The one that Magneto had given him all those months back. The one that Storm had taken off him on his first day back here.

“It’s yours to keep now. You can use it in Danger Room sessions and what not. Just don’t abuse it,” she gave him a pat on the back. “Oh, and it’s great to have you as a fellow team member, John.”

A few more words were exchanged before John finally made his way out of Xavier’s study. He was sure he didn’t imagine the silent voice in his head as he walked out the door.

‘Keep her safe…’

I will, John promised. More to himself than to Xavier.

He navigated his way through the corridors of the mansion. The wrist igniter felt awkward and uncomfortable in his palm as soon as he strapped it on. But he knew he felt the same way about it when he first tried it on all those months back. Took him days before he became fully accustomed to it.

But he got it back and that’s all that mattered.

As he rounded the corner, her heard two separate voices, growing intensely louder with each step he took. It sounded like a heated debate was taking place. Stepping around a second corner, he finally found the source of the disturbance.

And he didn’t like what he was seeing.

-

Rogue wasn’t at all sure what happened. One minute, she was walking down the hallway towards the games room, and the next, she found herself being knocked over by a speeding blur.

She stumbled painfully.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, dammit!” the said speeding blur yelled, picking himself up from the ground indignantly.

Rogue was visibly annoyed when she finally recognised who that voice belonged to. Pietro Maximoff. Figures.

“Well, sorry for not seeing you. I mean, I so should’ve anticipated a kid such as you to come barrelling down the corridor like some homicidal maniac.”

“Yeah? Well, just don’t touch me, you freak. I know what you can do.”

Rogue stopped short.

“Excuse me?” her voice sounded almost scandalized.

“You heard me. I know how you can kill people by touching them. That’s why you wear those hideously ugly gloves. Such a shame.” Pietro sneered.

Rogue was furious, offended by his very words, and wanted to scream how dare you at the boy’s insolent disrespect. And it wasn’t because he had called Kitty’s birthday present ‘hideously ugly’ either.

“You take that back,” Rogue said quietly, voice shaking with white-hot anger, fist clenched tight. “Take that back now.”

This only earned a mocking laugh from the silver-haired boy. “You’re a slut, that’s what you are,” he said, smirking, “or at least that’s what you want to be, if you were able to touch someone without murdering them.” And again he laughed. “You wannabe whore.”

Rogue was so immersed in rage that for a few seconds, she didn’t realise that someone had grabbed Pietro by the shirt and slammed him against the wall violently with such force that for a split second, the resounding crack that reverberated down the hallway made her believe that Pietro’s back broke.

Not that she really cared if it broke or not.

And she recognised the new presence immediately. The fading, dirty-blonde hair, the familiar physique, the typical stance… John Allerdyce had come to her aid by physically assaulting Pietro Maximoff.

“What the bloody fucking hell did you say to her?” John’s hard, steely voice was low with spite as he pushed Pietro further into the wall, if that were possible. “If I ever hear you call her a whore ever again – screw that – if I ever hear you talk to her again, I will kill you, understand? I. Will. Kill. You.” He emphasized his point by lighting his wrist igniter mere inches from Pietro’s face.

Pietro didn’t need telling twice. As John unclenched his fists from the boy’s collar, the speed demon made it a point to whiz down the hallway as fast as he could. But when he reached the end of the passageway, where he knew he would be safe, he gave one final taunt.

“You’re an ugly whore!” he shouted at Rogue, “And Pyro is a bloody traitor. Just go back to your helmet-headed freak of a leader, you loser!”

“Son of a bitch!” John snarled, ready to run after the teenager and burn him so badly that Hell itself couldn’t compare. But Pietro had already gone—disappeared around the corner and was already eating ice cream in the kitchens.

Rogue’s anger had somewhat dissipated, scattered like tiny pieces as soon as John made his appearance.

He was still breathing heavily as he shifted his gaze from the end of the hallway to the girl standing just a little ways off from his side.

“He’s dead,” John muttered darkly. “He won’t live to see the light of day tomorrow once I kill him in his sleep.”

“He won’t be sorely missed,” Rogue assured, smiling weakly.

John glanced at Rogue, his voice softening. “You’re not taking what he said seriously, are you?”

Rogue shook her head. “No,” she replied.

“Good. Because you’re not a whore and you’re sure as hell not ugly. If anything, you’re the most beautiful thing in the world, and I’m not exaggerating either.”

Rogue blinked, and suddenly felt herself turn red.“T-Thanks. And thanks for the help back there. The whole thing with pinning Pietro to the wall…” she said quietly, and was vaguely reminded of the time when John had been pinned to her room wall by Logan the other night.

“My pleasure. The kid had it coming,” John replied.

Rogue was pretty sure John was going to have a long talk with Pietro tonight in the dorm room that they shared.

“Anyway, were you headed to the games room?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wanna’ go one-on-one with foosball? Or the X-Box?”

Rogue laughed. “Why not?”

They ended up at the foosball table after all, and John was winning by a mile.

“How’d you get so good?” Rogue fumed, light-heartedly, “Did you like, have one of these somewhere within the lair of your Brotherhood headquarters?” she joked.

“Nope,” John grinned, “But I did live with a master strategist for about eight months,” he said, scoring another goal.

“Of course,” Rogue muttered, stepping around the table to retrieve the miniature soccer ball from below.

Just then, someone came running, full-pelt, into the games room. John, thinking that it was the infamous speed demon again, inconspicuously stuck his foot out, meaning to trip the kid.

It worked, to say the least. But it wasn’t Pietro Maximoff that tripped.

Risty Wilde’s eyes widened in horror as she stumbled over John’s outstretched leg, arms flailing, and crashed straight into Rogue. Rogue didn’t exactly see this coming and didn’t have time to move out of the way. As both landed on the floor hard, and had the wind knocked out of their lungs, Rogue felt the skin-on-skin contact between her and the purple-haired Risty Wilde.

And within seconds, she was absorbing Risty’s powers.

Only, she wasn’t sure whether ‘Risty’ was even her real name, as bizarre memories of the shapeshifter invaded her own. And as the next few seconds passed and Risty screamed with such an unnatural voice that didn’t belong to her, Rogue knew. She knew even before the shapeshifter’s skin flickered blue and eyes flashed serpentine yellow.

This was not Risty Wilde.

Because Risty had never existed.

John was standing with his mouth hanging open, but didn’t look as surprised as he thought he would, because, as he recalled his earlier conversations with her in the past, it all made sense to him now. He should have suspected it.

Rogue pushed the weakened woman away hastily and stood up, panting with difficulty.

And then, she ran.

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-A/N-: For those of you who’ve read ‘Rivers and Fireflies’, thank you. And yes, they did die together.

I do believe the next chapter will be interesting (hint!). Although I’m not sure how soon it’ll be posted (because I spend way too much time doing Pyro icons and graphics on my website and I spend way too much time on school work).

And because I felt like communicating with you guys:

PsYcHoThErApY17: Hello, friend! I love reviews that go on and on and on and on (ramble if you must) because it makes me insanely happy that you have so much to say! I hope this chapter satisfied you and I’m glad you don’t hate the way I portray Bobby Drake in this fic. Until the next chapter!

we-r-the-cure: THANKS for reviewing Rivers and Fireflies (and putting it in your favourites too!). Yes, I enjoy writing angst because I reckon it’s the genre I’m best at. Well, I think so anyway. Well, I hope you liked this chapter!

Obiwanfan: Your review for Rivers and Fireflies made my day, did you know that? Hope you liked this chapter and didn’t find it monotonous or anything…

dhfreak06: Howdy, my newest regular reviewing supporter! It’s awesome that you love my story. And whoa… Do you love to say ‘lol’ after every sentence?

the sillylittlepanda: How’d you find the Pyro vs Pietro part? Haha. Pietro annoys me sometimes. But hey, it’s me who’s actually working his personality. Thanks for your review!

xLiLix: Whoa…… I must really have killed you for waiting for this chapter, huh? I hope the long wait has paid off. And I’m overjoyed that you’re in love with this fic. Makes me feel uber-special. Your reviews are great! They help spur me on to write. Rock on!

Oh, and once again, to the rest of you reviewers out there, THANK YOU!