Title: You've Got To Go There To Come Back

Author: "sleepall_day" at Livejournal
Rating: Fairly tame but around PG-13.
Timeline: Directly after Alcatraz events of X3.
Summary: After the fight at Alcatraz, Pyro is found and brought back to Xavier's mansion. For his criminal actions he has been given house arrest at Xavier's School and he must learn to adjust.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or any characters used in this fanfiction. This story is just for fun, and any resemblances you find to actual people, living or dead, shows that you have strange friends.

Author's Note:I have never been to the CDC. Do they have a gift shop?

Chapter 23: "You will include the reminder to not touch me, ever, right?"

It was a few days before the team returned, and I had been very productive in that time. I finished a New York Times crossword puzzle – Sunday edition! In your face, Will Shortz! (So what if I had to cheat a bit?) And I finished all the Sudokus, too. I read Shakespeare. I consulted Kitty's "Shakespeare Without Fear" study aid when I got confused. I watched a few cooking shows, including the kind where the underling cooks get yelled at by the head cook. I watched more baseball with Josh and Francine. Those two held between them a vast, encyclopedic store of baseball knowledge. Not only could they help me differentiate between a foul and a foul tip, they knew a lot of the esoteric details, too. When they explained to me that "sabermetrics" was the analysis of baseball through the use of statistics, I was deeply disappointed that at no point were the players going to wield actual sabers and duel each other.

Okay, I lied: my life was still as dull as ever, and I did not achieve much in those few days. Productiveness is relative, anyway, right?

"Come on, this game as it is, it's a three-hour nap at best, you guys. It's boring. But with sabers? You'd watch that, though, wouldn't you?" I insisted.

Francine said to me, "I love baseball, but when people say that it's boring, I get it. I do. It's a personal thing, or it's an acquired taste, or however you want to put it. But don't you go calling it boring in front of Kitty!"

"Wait, what?" I said, suddenly going on the defensive.

"You know," she said with a knowing look. "I know you like her, but you're in for it big time if you insult her Cubs. Trust me."

I just stared back for a second before putting on a nonchalant expression and nodding slowly. "Okay, noted."

Josh spared me a quick glance and said, "Really? So you don't deny it or anything?"

That I liked her? "I'm not going to lie," I huffed, repeating my mantra.

Josh, without looking away from the TV, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled ten-dollar bill. He handed it to Francine, saying, "You were right, Francine. I guess he does like her."

She waved the money away, an unabashed look on her face as she also kept her eyes trained on the TV. "Double or nothing Megan Gwynn has the hots for Scott Summers."

"Cyclops? No way! All right, you're on."

I stared at the two of them with an expression of disbelief.

I did make an interesting discovery about myself when the delivery service arrived soon after that with an order of shellfish. I cooked it into a jambalaya, but when the food was ready, I actually got nervous. The pot was still sitting there, steaming and ready to be eaten, and all I could do was stare at it. I peered over to the common room to make sure Josh was still there in case of emergency. I finally got the nerve to taste it, and then… nothing. Nothing! Except for the fact that it was delicious, of course. My cooking was getting better by the day, and I was confident that even the most irate of head chefs would be pleased by this dish. And, more importantly, I was still conscious!

"Hey! Hey, Josh!" I yelled.

"What?"

"I just ate some shellfish and I'm still alive!"

At that, Josh wandered into the kitchen and sniffed. "Smells awesome. Can I have some? And I told you you'd be fine."

He had told me that, basically. But I hadn't quite been able to believe him until I'd actually eaten some mussels without my throat closing up, which, at age seven, had put me in the hospital. I took a few more bites before dishing out a serving for Josh and said, "You know… that's creepy. Really creepy. I don't really know much of the science behind allergies, but I do know it has something to do with your immune cells. Like they don't act the way they're supposed to, or whatever. So what you have done is actually… changed the behavior of my… cells." He had a casual look on his face, while I had an awed one.

"I guess so," was all he could say.

We ate in thoughtful silence for a few minutes before I blurted out, "So why didn't you go with them to the CDC?"

Josh had a prompt answer. "Because the X-Men didn't want the government exploiting me for cures or something. They thought if a healer of all things were to be known, I'd turn into some kind of prisoner forced to heal people twenty-four-seven."

Well. That stunned me into more shocked silence. "Even if it's for the greater good?" I ventured.

"Maybe only in the short run. What if they got too used to me? And stop searching for real cures to diseases?"

"Hmm. Someone could argue that you could do that, while the scientists keep working on cures."

Josh let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I guess that'd be the nice thing to do. I mean… I'd like to help where I can. That's why I'm donating cells and tissue samples to Dr. McCoy for his research, and he's collaborating with some other big-name, fancy-schmancy scientists. He says it's been really helpful so far."

I nodded, and gave him a slap on the back. "You shouldn't have to feel obligated to just sit there and let people line up around the block to get a favor from you."

Josh made a face. "Don't say it like that. I want to help people. I just don't know how to do it in a fair way so that the most people can get my help. And I haven't figured out how to do that without sacrificing my own life in the process. I hate saying that out loud, it sounds so selfish, but…"

"You're just a kid, Josh. You deserve some free time. Nobody blames you for wanting to shoot some hoops or skateboard sometimes," I said, eyeing the board he had tucked under one of his arms. "Besides, whatever you decide, nobody can blame you for wanting to take some time to make any decisions… And, hey, are we on the clock, or what?"

Josh finished off his lunch and grinned at me. "You can mark today on your community service hours sheet if they let you, John." I laughed and made plans with him to have a miniature clam bake to celebrate being allergy-free. I didn't mind sharing my food with him, even if I was unsure whether to forgive him or not for betting on my love life. Or whatever it was. My nonexistent love life.

The only other thing of note that happened while the team was gone was that my blood test results came in. The nurse said that I had a clean bill of health, but with all that seafood I had been ordering lately, wouldn't I also like to be tested for a H. pylori infection?

The next day, when I was ignoring the nurse by way of steaming some lobsters, I heard one of the vans pull up. I jogged out to the front. I kicked myself mentally, knowing that I looked pathetically like I had absolutely nothing to do except wait for everybody to come home… but it was either that or more Sudoku or angry chefs. Besides, as the one person who's always at the mansion, I felt I had a right to know anything and everything that went on. I laughed to myself at the thought of me, Pyro, being the center of the rumor mill or something like that. Actually, it seemed plausible. I liked to sit in the common room or the rec room, and write in my journal. Who could blame me if I overheard a conversation or two?

"Hey, guys! Did you bring me anything?" I said brightly as the first cars started unloading passengers.

"How about 'Did you guys have a nice flight?' first?" Scott suggested.

"Well, did you?" I said impatiently. Some people answered yes.

"Sure we did, John. And we did bring you something." Was it my imagination, or did Kitty look happy to see me? I didn't want to hug her in front of everybody, so I just gave her a couple of pats on the shoulder. "We brought you a souvenir," she said, motioning to someone behind her.

A kid dressed in all black with styled hair and an angry expression on his face stepped forward. He had gloves on even in the heat, so my first reaction was Oh boy, we got another Rogue on our hands. My second was, This is my souvenir from Atlanta?

But Rogue was pleasant and friendly, except when she was having one of her usual mood swings about her can't-touch-anybody situation. She was well-liked. This kid? Well… he was more like me. When Kitty introduced him to me as Kevin Ford, he kept his line of sight low and gave me a curt nod instead of a handshake. He kept himself hunched over slightly and away from people as much as he could. And when anyone got near him or touched him – even though it was always through clothing – he flinched.

We helped move his luggage into the mansion as Kitty continued her introductions. "He's actually why we stayed in Atlanta a little longer than we planned. Some of the local authorities had known about him and figured we'd be good people for Kevin to talk to."

"Authorities?" I asked. Maybe Kevin and I had more in common than just antisocial tendencies.

Kevin actually spoke up then. "Kind of a long story, but the gist of it is, don't touch me. Ever. My mutant power," he said with a bit of disdain, "withers anything organic to dust."

A few other students joined me in staring. Kevin continued, his southern accent soft but evident, "I was with my dad when it first happened. He got unlucky."

Ouch. I cringed and didn't quite know what to say, but fortunately, most of the other students were making the appropriate sympathy remarks. "Sorry, man," I finally mumbled.

Kevin shrugged. "It's been over a year, so… I'm coping. I feel better after all the legal stuff was cleared up too and it was all ruled accidental. I mean, I know it was, it's just…"

"Good to have it out in the open," Kitty finished for him. Kevin nodded. I caught her eye and gave her a slight smile. I was glad to have her around when I didn't know the right thing to say.

"Actually, remember the associate of ours who helped out Kevin with his legal case?" I overheard Storm telling Kitty as she walked up to us. "She'll be coming on to help with some of the fall courses, and we'll make the appropriate announcements soon."

"Dani? Awesome! She was cool," Kitty brightened.

"Teacher's pet," I grumbled, but when she glared at me, I winked.

"You will include the reminder to not touch me, ever, right?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, no kidding," I said. "You know, you guys were at the CDC – didn't you think to bring back a Haz-Mat suit for Kevin, too?"

Instead of taking offense, he laughed. I decided he was all right.

Kevin was moving into the vacant room across from mine. I decided to check it out as soon as I could. Hey, it was my house, too. My curiosity about whatever was going on slowly continued to overcome my desire to be left alone. Since I had laundry, Kevin was already halfway unpacked by the time I went to scope his room out. "Hey, we met earlier," I reminded him. "I'm just across the hall."

"Yeah," he answered indifferently.

I noticed he had a lot of Under Armour. "You an athlete?" I asked him.

He saw me glance at the clothes and shook his head. "Nah. Not really. I'm an artist. It's just that the Under Armour stuff is made with enough synthetic material that I won't break it down. I can wear some cotton stuff over it. So I wouldn't have to replace my entire wardrobe."

"Ah. Smart." I also noticed he had plastic bedding. I guessed it was tough to find bed sheets made of anything but cotton or something else organic. I was about to make a rude comment about incontinence when Kevin was spared by the arrival of Kitty.

"Hey!" she said, knocking on the open door. "Mind if I come in?" And there was the difference between me and her. I had just barged in without asking a few minutes ago.

Kevin let her in and Kitty helped with the unpacking for awhile before turning to me. "I almost forgot. We did bring you an actual souvenir, too, besides this," she said, pointing at Kevin. She pulled a pen out of her pocket and handed it to me.

I beamed at her. "I always wanted a ballpoint pen with the Centers for Disease Control logo on it!"

Both Kevin and Kitty laughed, and Kitty just punched me in the arm and said, "Oh, stop it, John."

"No, really," I insisted, and just to show her how much I liked it, I began clicking the pen furiously.

"If it's not the lighter, it's something else, isn't it, John?" Kitty said, shaking her head slightly. I nodded as she continued, "They don't have a gift shop, but the lady who showed us around said I could keep it."

"Very nice. It's authentic," I said, holding the pen out to Kevin, showing it off.