This is my first story ever. Truthfully, I actually enjoy watching the videos of Pyro and Rogue more but one video by Devilishgirl90 called "Stolen" inspired this story, which by the way I highly recommend you viewing. Just to give you a brief overview since the summary did not really do it justice, This started as a oneshot based on the video but the muses smiled on me and here it is. What you're going to eventually see is a complete story of Pyro and Rogue finding each other and their struggle with their own personal beliefs. The events that are going to influence their belief system involves the Friends of Humanity, the Hellfire Club, and of course the re-emergence of the Brotherhood.
Cold…he felt cold. The sensation of a thousand knives that pierced his skin and left nothing but bone and the bitterness of defeat was a pain that John Allerdyce could imagine would be something that he had inflicted on other people before but never did he image it was him that would taste such a polluted loneliness. He had been met with moments of thinking he was going to die in the past but the absence of the adrenaline that were the prelude before made his already sore body feel heavier than it is.
He felt his eyes twitch trying to open themselves against all the dried dirt and what he could only guess as blood on his face. It was to no avail because a part of him had finally accepted the fact that he just might die here.
Death had been so frequent in his life recently that it was easy for him to accept it. He remembered Xavier's passing and witnessed the first ranks of Magneto's army being sacrificed for the cause. He remembered the day that he told Magneto that he would have killed Xavier himself if he had the opportunity and how it affected Magneto. How he still felt the sting of Xavier's death in his psyche, how respected he was in Magneto's burdened mind.
Then his thoughts wondered to visions of Jean Grey getting pierced by the very hands that loved her and the sullen look that Logan had. He could tell that every single memory of Jean Grey was flashing before Logan's mind, every touch, every smile, all those little things that he loved about her. He was trying to absorb her, remember every detail of her because he knew that he will no longer be able to experience any of their sensations anymore.
But death was different for him, John though. Those that had passed away had families and friends that would think about them constantly. They had people who would always miss them and the more he thought about it the more he became aware of the fact that they are not really dead because their loved ones will always carry their memories in their hearts and speak of them in sorrowful mourning. Even after their lifeless shells have decomposed and was nothing but ashes people will still speak of them with remembrance in their hearts.
With that realization he finally grasped the fact that out of all the deaths that he had heard about and witnessed, he really was going to be the only one truly entering oblivion.
Who will remember him?
Who will miss him?
Who will even care or notice if he was dead?
With a deep inhale of breath he let his eyes relax, finally accepting death and the empty feeling that he was going to die completely and utterly alone.
The cold dew of the morning bit at his gloved fingers as he worked his way through the rubble. It was a Saturday morning and very early, a little too early he thought to be going through garbage. The burly man could not complain of course, after all he was getting time and a half for this.
Wiping his sniffling nose with the back of his hand he worked his way through the metal car parts and charred remains of what could only be described as the day the world, or at least San Francisco, almost ended.
"What's the point of doing this now Bob?" He asked his supervisor who looked equally tired and frustrated that the local city workers had been called on duty a day after such a disastrous event.
"Because the jackass sanitation commissioner needs to wipe his ass with our time now suck it up and quit your bitching Joe." He had no patience for complaint today but he could understand the larger man's frustration. What was the point of going through all of this? There was no way anyone could have survived.
He had seen it on the news the way the mutant, Jean Grey, had created a whirlwind of destruction and left the pieces for honest working class people like him to clean up. If it were up to him the mutants would have been the ones to clean up this mess that they had caused and gather up their own casualties, not that there would be any bodies left in this rubble.
"Found anything?" Bob asked Joe who looked like he was just idling by as the rest of the crew pushed through metal, dirt, and debris.
"No," Joe yelled back kicking a bent license plate out of the way. The truth was being here on Alcatraz so soon after the event and digging through the remains did not sit well with his stomach. The way Jean Grey killed the people on this island by turning them into ashes made it a camouflage with the dirt and the idea of digging through the remains of human bodies disgusted him.
"Maybe it's because you're just sitting on your ass while we're working. Get your fat butt up and start getting to work," Bob yelled back at him. With that statement Joe knew that he meant business and grabbed a piece of torn up car canvas from where it bunched near him and tossed it aside.
Taking a step back from the sudden impact of the canvas landing on the ground he noticed something. Where the canvas had been he saw what looked like a body half buried by the debris from the remains of the charred car caked with dried dirt and blood.
"Bob, come quick I found something," he yelled over his shoulders. Leaning down he touched the body and removed some of the blondish brown hair from its face and was startled by the youth evident on its features. "It's a kid, a young boy."
"Dead?" Bob asked while approaching the distraught man. He waved the rest of the crew members to see the scene before them.
"I don't know man," Joe replied and removed some trash from around the boy, not exactly sure what he was trying to uncover. Looking at the adolescence in the boy's face, Joe moved closer trying to search for a twitch, a breath, some sign that there could be life in this damaged body and damaged it was.
The boy's entire lower half was covered by so much metal and car parts that Joe would be surprised if he ever walked again. His wrists were dark purple and blue from what could only look like frost bite or worst gangrene, and he had a deep cut that severed across both his upper and lower lip at an almost perfect angle along with all the cuts and bruises that accompanied the rest of him.
"We need an ambulance here!" Bob yelled into his large communicator. "We got a body; looks like a white male age 16-20, light brown hair of medium build OVER."
"Confirmed," the voice stated calmly to Bob through the communicator. "What is the condition of the identified body? Over."
"Don't know, could be dead or alive Over." Bob responded back looking intently at the boy reminding himself that his seventeen year old son is safe at home sleeping in on his usual lazy Saturday.
"Confirmed, we are sending a chopper right now, standby for arrival," it responded back.
Knock Knock Knock
Logan pounded on the door and the echoing vibrations of his forceful knuckles against the solid wooden door forced Ororo Monroe to step out of her office and walk down the hall to the girl's corridor that she advised over.
What now? She thought tiredly to herself. She was tired, so exhausted that her tall slender body dragged itself sloppily down the hall, it is far too early in the morning.
It had been six months since the incident at Alcatraz and there was still so much to do, still many more things that needed arrangements. The restructuring of the school after the untimely death of the three leading roles of the institution left her as the only one with the burden of handling the responsibility.
Letting her white hair fall from behind her left ear and cover half her face she looked at Logan, her eyes telling him to explain. "It's a little early for you to be out here Logan," she reminded him of the newly enforced curfews and the gender exclusive halls.
It hadn't always been like this. Before when Xavier or Jean were around they would be able to sense an intruder or the thoughts of hormonal teenagers sneaking around the dorms. But things were different now, they were no longer here and she was just overwhelmed by the amount of work and lack of authoritative personnel. Xavier was no longer here, there was no one to guide her, to tell her what to do, and she did not feel ready or well prepared for such a daunting task as running a school.
"If the instructors break the rules how is that going to look to the students Logan?" She asked him not once breaking their eye contact as if staring at him would make the problem disappear, or at least get him to stop knocking.
He had volunteered to stick around and help Ororo with arrangements that needed to be made at least until she can figure out where to go from here. There were too many classes to teach, danger room sessions to be supervised, that the aggressive lone wolverine finally found attachment in this world, a place where he was needed, and a purpose.
"They should be asleep anyway. I'm MONITORING them. Call it random dorm checks, starting with this one," he brushed her off and continued hammering on the door.
"The girls' hall?" She questioned him. He was always such a loose cannon and they have disagreed before but never had she caught him not staying in the boys' passage during dorm lock down hours waiting in the hall for that one boy that would try to test his boundaries, stalking them and waiting as if they were prey.
"It's Rogue, she wasn't at the danger room session yesterday. ROGUE OPEN THE DOOR!"
Feeling her headache getting worst she lightly touched his hands, gesturing him to quit what he was doing. "Logan, its one session, students skip classes all the time."
"Yeah, well, students don't skip MY classes, especially not this one. ROGUE IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR NOW I AM COMING IN THERE." Growing restless he ran his hands through his unruly hair, "Alright that's it," he said and with a sharp sound his claws escaped their sheath home under his skin as he was prepared to tear her door open.
"Uh, I don't think so!" Storm interrupted him quickly. "At least try the doorknob first, these doors don't come cheap." She reminded him of their dwindling resources.
It was hard to convince charitable donors to support the school without the sway of a telepath that could influence their decisions or the fact that one of the supporting staff had a habit of smoking cigars and showed no respect for anyone but himself. It also does not help that a school of mutants were seeking grants and donations when less than a year ago mutant extremist were featured all over the news.
He rolled his eyes at her and twisted the doorknob, noticing strangely that it was unlocked. "Rogue, are you there?" He questioned as he stepped into the room noticing the silent chill in the room, a little too cold.
His senses never failed him and he noticed nothing. He did not smell the usual scent she left lingering in the room of lavender and honeysuckle. "Rogue?" He asked again approaching the empty bed, "Not again," he muttered to himself, "kid never learns."
"I'll check on Bobby," Ororo said worriedly as she rushed to the boys' dorm all the worst scenarios running in her head. Their two star students' directly disobeying rules and breaking lock down and the gender separation rule, them running off gallivanting around town without telling anyone, or worst, that they had both run away because they had lost faith in the cause like so many potential students before.
Looking around the room he was searching for something, anything, just trying to get a glimpse of what was going on in Rogue's mind. Looking at her bed, he noticed a small picture on her pillow, carelessly out in the open.
Examining it closer he became aware it was one of her and her boyfriend, Bobby Drake, on her first day of school here, the flower made of ice in her hand with a look of adoration in both their eyes. She looked so young back then, he though when suddenly Ororo and Bobby both frantically entered into her room.
"She's not here!" Storm huffed and walked into the room looking around as if in a daze. Bobby followed behind her but instead approached the open window, noticing the imprint of her shoes on the ledge and looked out into the freshly mowed lawn thinking just how far away she could have been.
"Where is she?" Bobby Drake yelled, looking directly at Logan who gave him a look that told him to never use that tone with him again. He is the wolverine; no one talks to him that way.
"I don't know. You're the boyfriend, do your job. Keep an eye on her." Logan said to Bobby as he approached the worried teenager, attempting to get some answers.
"When did you last see her?" The weather witch asked Bobby who replied by shaking his head.
"I don't remember, sometime yesterday." He answered trying to think if there was something he did, something he said that could have sparked her abandonment of the school. Why would she leave the school, why would she leave him? Was he not a good enough reason for her to stay?
"What did you say to her BUB?" Logan approached the boy, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. Before the startled boy can answer Hank McCoy walked into the room, a questionable look in his eyes as he took in the scene before him.
"Well, I hate to break up such a party but we have more pressing issues to address," he said as he looked at Ororo with a slight glance to Logan. "Perhaps this display of male ego can best be demonstrated next time Logan as us faculty members should converse."
"Oh," Logan said guiltily, noticing he still had Bobby by the shirt, the boy's eyes that still held that look of fear and shock. "Sorry kid," he said as he put him down.
"But I'm gonna want some answers later," he told over his shoulders to the boy who was lightly stepping away. "Keep your door unlocked," he said, the voice of Ororo fidgeting back into his mind about how expensive his anger was getting to be.
"Well, shall we move this meeting to the conference room?" The blue beastly looking and articulate man said as he led them into the main conference room.
"What's going on Hank?" Storm asked him as she took a seat at the head of the conference room table, a position she was slowly getting use to being in.
Flipping on the television, Hank thought it best to let the news tell his fellow faculty members. "I trust that both of you have been too preoccupied lately to keep up with worldly events but this is a matter that concerns every mutant here," he said as he moved so that both Ororo and Logan can watch the news channel.
Glancing with wide, worried eyes, Storm read the headlines and absorbed everything the newscaster was saying to her as if she was warning her of an impending confrontation.
Headline: Alcatraz Mutant Extremist Found
Hi folks, this is Cindy Ortega, and this just in, we all remember that unfortunate event earlier this year where a group of mutant extremist who called themselves the Brotherhood savagely unleashed their fury on the residents of San Francisco. While the Brotherhood had failed at their mission of attempting to murder venture capitalist Warren Worthington the II, founder of the cure, members of the group had either went into hiding or were assumed dead at the site. Well, sanitation workers this morning have found a severely injured member that survived under the rubble of the disaster. The mutant was identified as John Allerdyce who was the assumed second in command to the Brotherhood. Whether or not state officials are going to go through with indictment charges against this young mutant, public outcry has been capital punishment.
"We can't let them do that," Storm told no one in particular. "It'll start another war. There will be more terrorist groups out there. His death will result in another uprising."
"The president is fully aware of that but the California DA is pushing for a quick trial and sentence. This is causing tension on both fronts. The humans want revenge after all Alcatraz happened not too long ago. The mutant extremist, well, they just want to be justified for their losses at Alcatraz," he said knowingly. "Mr. Logan, any opinions?"
"Let him hang, bastard deserves it, the way I see it, they're just doing it before I can." Logan said bitterly as he proceeded to walk out the door.
"Where are you going?" Ororo asked him. "You have classes in a few hours!" She yelled to his back.
"I'm going to find someone, tell the kids they better not slack off while I'm gone." With that final statement Logan disappeared behind the door, knowing exactly where he was going to go.
Please review as I don't have a clear grasp as to where I want the characters to go. Constructive criticism is helpful