The Epilogue

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Ezekiel ‘Blackguard’ Blacken’s defeat had been mentioned on the news and in the papers as though the world outside ‘mutant affairs’ had cared. Even now, two weeks following the collapse of the Woodbridge Asylum, the media still had plenty to say about the whole incident. Hank McCoy made significant appearances on national television on more than just a couple of occasions to methodically explain the mess and clear up the doubts about the whole issue concerning the ‘Eradicators’. Interviews with the loved ones of the people who died were aired on radio, including a conversation with Warren Worthington the Third; which wasn’t surprising, seeing as his father had been an important figurehead in the pharmaceutical company that invented the Cure…

It seemed as though what transpired at Woodbridge was still the major talk of the town.

However, the past fourteen days saw the Xavier mansion in deep silence. There was none of the usual school din that could be heard from afar—no shouting voices of students running helter-skelter through hallways or screeches of desks and chairs being dragged across classroom floorboards.

There was nothing.

Everyone seemed to have been deeply affected by either the deaths of friends or by the betrayal of Pietro Maximoff. Those who had known Pietro and shared his classes for the short amount of time he had been at the school were shocked and horrified by what he had done. “He never seemed like the type to actually do such a thing,” Jubilee had said, more upset than outraged. “Kidnapping Rogue… just to get back at his dad!” No one had been impressed by what the speed demon had done, but everyone had felt some kind of sympathy for him, because to them, what happened to him in the past was nothing short of a pitiful experience. He was left to die in a mental institute at such a young age with his twin sister—a sister he cared for deeply. But somehow, he had managed to escape that fate. Only to be killed years later in an attempt to avenge his sister’s death… in another mental institute. Fate had a way with dealing with the damned.

Jubilation Lee hadn’t really gotten over the death of her friend, Tabitha. And when she heard of John’s death as soon as they returned from the rescue mission, it was the final blow. She hadn’t been terribly close to John. But he had been the very first person she had actually talked to and got to be acquainted with when she arrived at the school as a new student. She had assumed he died after he never came back from Alkali Lake, but no one had seemed very upset about it then. This time around, it was different. He had died a hero and a saviour. He went down fighting. And Jubilee knew she would never ever again set eyes on the mutant that she had so affectionately christened the Brotherhood Boy.

Raven spent most of her time either in her room deep in thought, or alone outside, staring at the unmoving headstones that bore the names of her two departed comrades. She had accepted Professor Xavier’s offer to join the X-Men a few days ago and wasn’t quite sure why she did, only knowing that the team was formed by Magneto’s best friend and that Pyro had been in it for awhile. That, she supposed, was reason enough to join the party.

The shape-shifter sat there now, half a month after the ordeal, her jet-black hair billowing about in the breeze and the setting sun throwing glowing rays of scarlet illumination around the grassy area. She sat there, staring – just staring – at those monuments. She never once acknowledged Pietro’s headstone while she was there, being one of the few who held no ounce of remorse nor sorrow for his death. No matter what the boy’s reasons were, she would never forgive the boy for as long as she lived. It just wasn’t fair that he had traded his life for the lives of both Magneto and Pyro.

It wasn’t fair…

If it was one thing Bobby Drake had in common with Mystique, it was his unyielding desire to blame everything that had happened on Pietro. Now, as he wandered the quiet corridors of the seemingly empty school, the bloody pinpricks of fast-fading sunlight filtering through the windows, he wondered to himself if Pietro had really died in the asylum. They never exactly saw him in person at the site… There wasn’t any indication that he had been there at the time. So, there was a slender possibility that he had made it out alive…

Don’t even think about it, Bobby told himself. He’s not worth the trouble.

The Iceman ran into Kitty on the way to the library. She was looking much better in comparison to the previous week, and it relieved him immensely. It was good to see that her counselling sessions with Xavier and Ms. Munroe were helping.

“Hey, Kitty,” he offered.

“Hi.” Her voice was subdued. But she managed a hint of a smile.

“Uhh…” Bobby scratched his head uncertainly. “I was meaning to ask… Will you be at dinner?” He knew that she had a tendency to skip meals nowadays. But since tonight was different, he couldn’t help but wonder…

She frowned, and the look she was giving him bordered on sadness, as though she knew what he was getting at. “Yeah…” she murmured, and it was a promise. “I will.”

Bobby took a deep breath. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know. Everyone around the mansion had known the occasion that was coming. And today was the day. It just seemed much too hard to mention it out loud.

“I think there’s going to be a commemoration to celebrate it tonight,” he said with quiet reserve.

“I know.”

“But it wouldn’t be the same without him…”

“… I know…”

There was a contemplative silence.

“Where’s… where’s Rogue?”

“She wants some time alone.”

“… Will she be there?”

Bobby was quiet for a few moments. She said she would, he said to himself. She gave her word.

But his reply was hesitant.

“I don’t know, Kitty. I really don’t know…”

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She didn’t know what brought her there in the first place. She had just felt the urge – the desperate need – to visit the place once more. Just once more. Just for the sake of it. Just for the undisturbed quiet. Just to get away from the mansion. Again.

The long, slow walk had all but helped to clear her messed up head. In fact, it had caused her to accumulate so very many pent-up memories and unvoiced thoughts that she felt as though the weight of the world were upon her. It didn’t exactly help with the number of people in her mind at the moment, filling up whatever empty spaces that were left to spare. It made her wonder if the feelings she had now at that moment was genuinely her own, or belonged to someone else entirely…

She had told no one where she had gone off to; exactly like the last time she made her unspoken leave. Well, she told no one except for Bobby. But even then, she didn’t tell him where. Only that she was going out for awhile to think about stuff. And the boy had offered to come with her. But she had told him no, she didn’t want company, and he accepted her answer graciously and let her go, no questions asked. If it were any other point in time, he would have insisted that she take someone along just in case something happened.

But not today.

And Rogue was thankful.

Bobby Drake had been extremely patient with her ever since the Woodbridge Asylum incident. He had been continuously helping her to get back on her feet again. It had been a tough time for him as well and it showed, with all his sleepless nights and vacant-eyed gazes. And Rogue knew that he wasn’t alone. Many others were still recovering from the aftermath. The Professor and Ms. Munroe had been helping a few, including Warren, Jubilee and Kitty, to cope with the untimely losses… Rogue’s first conversation with Raven Darkholme a few days back had resulted in the both of them crying and hugging and unable to say anything coherent at all.

The mansion was a in a gloomy, melancholic and vulnerable state at the moment. And Rogue believed that it would be for a long time to come.

Just because of all the deaths.

The deaths at Alcatraz that happened only months before.

The deaths of the young mutants.

The death of Warren’s father.

The death of Pietro Maximoff.

The death of Erik Lensherr.

The death of John Allerdyce.

Now, as she sat there at the bus stop, in the very same seat she had claimed all those weeks ago (as though it would make a difference), she realised that she had known it all along, deep down inside.

She had known it all along; the real reason why she was there. She knew all along why she had almost mindlessly, unconsciously, stepped out of the mansion and walked the long distance to that very bus stop.

It was hope.

Hope…

Hope that maybe, just maybe, she would find him there, waiting for her. After all, it was the place that she had been unexpectedly reunited with him for the first time since their separation at Alkali Lake.

It was a ridiculous thought, of course. John had been dead for two weeks now. She saw it happen with her own eyes. There was not a sliver of chance that the pyrokinetic manipulator would be coming back. And she knew that. It wasn’t like she was denying it anymore. But she knew, despite all the odds against her, that St. John Allerdyce had done the impossible and had survived the massacre at Alcatraz and came here to this very place to talk to her for the first time since he left. If anything, she believed that if he were still somehow alive out there, he would come here.

And she kept telling herself that. It was what she wanted to believe.

“Didn’t they ever tell you that littering’s bad for the environment?”

He would come here. With that familiar smirk gracing his lips.

“Pyro?”

He would talk to her. As though he had never left her alone for the second time.

“So it’s Pyro now, huh? You always ever called me John. Never Pyro. What gives?”

And it would be just like what it was before.

“I’m sorry, John.”

It would be just like how it was before he made his sacrifice.

“Nah, just stick with calling me Pyro. It sounds so much more-”

He would come here.

“Cooler. I know.”

She kept telling herself that. It was everything she wanted to believe.

“Damn straight.”

And so, she sat there under the bus shelter… sat there until the sun disappeared over the horizon, never to rise again until the very next day. She sat there, with no ashes of burnt photographs swirling around her feet, no warmth of a second person sitting next to her, no shoulder to lean on, nobody to keep her company in the silence.

And she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Images of John flashed through her mind. She still had many of his memories, all stolen during his outburst at Bobby’s front yard, stolen when they had kissed… twice… She still had his powers, and she knew they were growing within her because of the Cure’s after-effects. It was as though John literally lived within her. Even though he was no longer living in the real world.

He was dead.

And she never attended the funeral. Never said her goodbyes like the others had. Never had the chance to say out-loud in front of him… that she had loved him. Her chances were spent… She never thought of it as important. But now, she knew better.

Now, she knew it was too late.

Too late to say things that were meant to be said.

Sighing a quivering sigh, she took in a breath of frosty air and spoke into the dark silence with the words that were left unspoken until today, hoping that it might somehow absolve her of her sins.

“John? If you can hear me from wherever you are,” she said, her voice soft and gentle, her head tilted up to the dark sky, “I – I want you to know that I miss you. And… and that I really love you. And… thank you. For doing what you did to save our lives.” Her eyes were overly bright and her voice was so quiet that even she herself couldn’t hear it.

What she whispered next was enough reason to cause her to tremble and a single tear to escape her lashes and down her cheek slowly.

“Happy birthday, Johnny.”

Happy birthday, St. John Allerdyce.

HappybirthdayIloveyouIhopeyoulovedmetoocomebackplease.

Yes, it was his birthday today. Just one month following her own birthday. It was today.

Today.

“No, I didn’t forget,” she continued in her hushed murmur, as though she were uttering a secret that she wanted no one but the ghosts to hear. “And if you were still here with us, we’d all be celebrating this day together. You and me and Bobby and Jubilee and Piotr and Kitty… And… And you’d be opening your presents and making your awful comments about our tastes in gifts…”

The tear dripped down onto her neck as she smiled a wry smile. The memories of John’s previous birthdays were being replayed in her mind like the rewinding of an old, black and white film.

“… And you’d be lighting your own candles on your own cake with that… that lighter of yours…” Pause. “That lighter that you told me had been like a part of you. That lighter that you gave me for my birthday. That lighter that saved our lives but killed you…”

She cursed herself. She was doing it again. Crying.

She just couldn’t help it.

It was getting very cold. And it was getting very late.

She looked down at the watch around her wrist with blurry vision, trying to make out the time in the gloom.

It was approaching eight.

They were having dinner at this very moment right now.

And she promised Bobby she’d be there.

… I’m sorry Bobby. I can’t… I hope you understand.

She wanted to be alone tonight. She needed to be alone tonight. It was just one of those moments where you wished to be left alone in peace to get over things of the past.

She spent another long hour in the darkness, just thinking to herself. Of fire and zippo lighters and windows with wrapped parcels on ledges and shady trees and snowball fights and feuds between fire and ice in bedrooms and shared kisses and confrontations between good and evil.

And soon… it was nine.

Her hour went by quickly.

“I never wanted it to end this way.”

She didn’t know if she had said it out loud or only just thought it in her head. But those words echoed around her deafeningly…

Standing, she rubbed at her arms in hopes to warm them. It was time to return home before she froze to death. Home… she never thought she’d call the mansion her home ever again.

Turning at a pace that was slow and in no way deliberate, she started walking away, unsure if this was the very last time she would ever be visiting the forsaken bus stop. She kept going, not even a backward glance. Just continued at a steady pace away from it all. She wanted to leave the spot. There were just too many memories that the place had brought and too many feelings that it evoked. She had shed too many tears already. It was time to move on.

Because things change.

They always do.

And as she reached the end of the street, ready to round the corner of the block of grey-walled buildings, she stopped under a lone street lamp – the only one down the dim alley – with the bright halo of light spilling down over her, illuminating her white streaks of hair. And she took one last look at the bus stop, now tiny in the distance and almost concealed in the darkness, before turning away again. Just one last time, before leaving it behind.

And maybe, just maybe, she had imagined it. Maybe she just imagined the lone figure gazing at her from afar under the shelter, veiled in the shadows of the night, just at the spot where she had been sitting moments before.

Maybe.

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end.
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-A/N-: My friends, it is done. This sequel (and this whole fic in general) was a huge project for me. It’s probably one of the greatest pieces I’ve written (the top on my list being the ‘Sanctification’ one-shot Ryro fic I wrote about 11 months ago which actually made me cry when working on it). This fic started on the 3rd of June 2006, and this thirtieth chapter concluded the sequel on the 5th of August 2007. Wow, we’ve come a long way huh?

Note: There’s another ‘End-of-Credits’ scene that shows a meeting between two people 60 days down the road. (WHICH IS A HUGE HINT THAT THERE MIGHT BE ANOTHER SEQUEL)

Another note: Feedback and constructive reviews (yes, constructive!) are greatly appreciated. Tell me what you liked, what you hated, what your favourite scene in this fic was, etc.

FOR NOW, we’ll just let the music commence and the credits roll! I made an actual ‘Credits in Motion’ Music Video (with awesome music and pretty clips of our lead characters)… Go look for it:)

CREDITS:

Cast of Characters:
(According to appearance)

Bobby Drake / Iceman

John Allerdyce / Pyro

Marie D’Ancanto / Rogue

Katherine “Kitty” Pryde / Shadowcat

Jubilation Lee / Jubilee

Logan / Wolverine

Ororo Munroe / Storm

Charles Xavier / Professor X

Jimmy / Leech

Warren Worthington III / Angel

Raven Darkholme / Mystique (Risty Wilde / Foxx)

Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver

Jasper Noel / Firethorn

Piotr Rasputin / Colossus

Henry “Hank” McCoy / Beast

Ezekiel Blacken / Blackguard

Erik Lensherr / Magneto

Samuel “Sam” Guthrie / Cannonball

Callisto

(Characters mentioned)

Jean Grey / Phoenix

Scott Summers / Cyclops

Kurt Wagner / Nightcrawler

Angie Vidette / Stardust

Warren Worthington II

Tabitha Smith / Boom Boom

Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch

Amara Aquilla / Magma

Lance Alvers / Avalanche

Ronnie Drake

Acknowledgments and Special Thanks:

Marvel Comics: For obvious reasons.

Stanford, Paquin, Ashmore and the rest of the acting cast from the films: For making everything real for us. You people are made of awesome.

The Pyro/Rogue fans: Because you guys make the world a better place. x)

All the wonderful REVIEWERS, READERS and SUPPORTERS: I can’t thank you guys enough. Especially the ones who started reading this from the moment the first chapter was posted. I do hope you’ve all enjoyed reading all thirty chapters. I know I really enjoyed writing them.

(End credits)

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Fade in-

“Who are you to tell me that? You don’t know me anymore, Robert Drake. I’m no longer the Johnny Allerdyce you used to know.”

“… You were never the John I used to know.”

-Fade out