Authoress notes: I know this took reeeeally long, but it's here now, and this story is finally complete. It's been a really long time since the first chapter came up, and sometimes I really thought of abbandoning it. But it's here, it's finished, and I am very happy with the result.

Special thanks to all my reviewers, because if this story is here, it's all because of you. So, my most sincere than yous too WeAreTomorrow, Olivia, and specially, December LeBeau, because without their reviews, this chapter would have never been up.

A very very special thanks to aiRo25, because if this story is of any quiallity, it's all thanks to her. She is the most amazing writter, and beta.

Again, thanks to all of you who stuck with me during all the story, and I hope that the end doesn't dissapoint you.

St John Allerdyce

John was like a blank canvas. Pyro is a pattern drawn with blood drops, pain and death.
To John, Pyro is the only way to survive.
Sometimes, Pyro does not remember John.

He opens his eyes slowly, and there's a buzzing in his head that refuses to stop. It's been there for a long time now. He doesn't know how long, because in this cell, time is not really something that matters. It could have been days, weeks, years...He doesn't really care.

But the buzzing gets stronger. It's strange because it was always the same before. Now it's getting stronger.

He pushes himself off the hard, metal bed and lies down on the cold floor, closing his eyes again and trying to ignore the fact that he is locked inside the smallest room he's ever been in. Really, really small. So small, he could cross it in ten steps. He has counted them. He has counted them so may times, he knows the number by heart. And there are no windows, no sounds...

He forces himself to stop thinking.

The buzzing keeps getting louder, and his body temperature seems to rise with it. He is suddenly very, very, very hot. It's like his skin is on fire, like his insides are on fire, and it's burning it's way through his whole body.

He opens his eyes and sits down to stare at his hands.

There's a tingling sensation on his fingers, they're going to burn.

He laughs. It's impossible. There's no fire. It's been a long time without fire. Probably there's never going to beany more fire. He's never really been a hopeful person, and it's obvious that there's nothing to be hopeful about.

Nothing is going to burn anymore. They lost, and nobody is going to come for him.

It's only fair, he thinks. Hebegan locked up, and he ends locked up. The story of his life.

He begins to scream and laugh and scream a little more. He screams for the fire and for the aching sensation on the palms of this hands and for the buzzing inside his head. He screams louder and louder; he laughs harder and harder.

Then, suddenly, something snaps, and he is quiet.

It's like something has opened inside of him. The heat grows, and he is burning from the inside out. The buzzing stops, and a voice rises, so very softly, in his head.

He remembers the voice. He's been remembering a lot, lately.

"Hello, John, it's been a long time"

He stands, almost paralyzed.

"I'm here now, John. You've brought me back. You are so much stronger than the last time I saw you."

Pyro scans the room for something, some sign that someone's playing a joke on him. But there's nothing, in this room there's just him...and the voice of the fire.

"There's no fire," he murmurs, nervously. "There's no fire"

The fire laughs in his head.

"There's fire inside of you, John."

Pyro looks back at his hands. They're burning now, literally. There are black burnt marks and the skin is peeling off, and the pain is unbearable...and then there's fire.

There is fire.

It's been a long, long time since he last saw fire. But it's there, coming from somewhere inside of him, lighting him up. The sudden feeling of power overwhelms him and chases away the hurting. His pained gasps become a strong laughter that echoes in the small, cold room.

There are sounds coming from the outside. He closes his hands to extinguish the fire and directs his attention to the door.

There's anticipation in the air. He is high, so very high. His smile is growing by the second.

"You can't be here! Carter, we have a breach..."

"Well, 'ello to y' too, mon ami."

Pyro remembers. He remembers and he smiles, listening very carefully as the husky voice turns into a whisper, a very, very soft, hypnotizing whisper.

"Gambit thinks y' should leave. An' tell the others t' leave too, 'kay? There's nothin' going on 'ere Nothin' t' worry about. Y' all got free day."

There's a very brief pause, and then the guard speaks again, his voice low, tone flat.

"Yes, you're right. I am going to leave, and the others should leave too..." Another pause "Carter, tell everyone to leave the building, they're giving us the day free. There's nothing to do here."

There's footsteps and the sound of metal doors opening and closing, and then there's the laugh of a woman.

"My, my Gambit, aren't you a charmer?"

"Qu'est-ce que je peux dire, Gambit's awesome like that."

"Now, what do you think are the probabilities of all the cells opening at the same time just about now?"

Gambit's husky laugh fills the air, and it almost drowns the sound of the reinforced metal door of his cell unlocking.


Pyro pushes the door open, and the sudden light almost blinds him. It's been a long time without light, he remembers.


He forces his eyes open, and when they finally adjust to the light, he sees a woman standing before him. She looks just about his age, long black hair cascading down her back and sparkling blue eyes fixed on him. There's a triumphant smile playing on her lips.

"My name is Scarlet Witch. My father sends his regards."

Then Gambit, who had been leaning casually against the opposite wall of the corridor walks up to stand beside the woman and grins at him, red on black eyes shining with delight.

"Y' wanted chaos, mon ami, an' chaos y' shall get."

And then, for the first time since he got out, a speechless Pyro takes a look around the corridor; the cells are open, and there's mutants everywhere. Mutants with powers, powerful mutants.

"The cure..." He tries to speak but his mouth is dry. It's been too long without speaking, his voice is rusty and his throat hurts.

"The cure failed," Scarlet Witch explains, voice high enough for everyone to hear her. "For them." She adds, smiling, "But the side effects have proven to be very beneficial to us."

"Anyone feelin'...stronger?" Gambit's grin is bigger now, almost a smile.

There are voices rising and people talking and a lot of noise and laughs and yells and grunts and curses, and they all have three things in common: they are loud, they are free, and they are more powerful than before.

"Look at that, John. Look at that. We are rising." The fire speaks to him, exited.

Pyro smiles.

"We don't have much time. We must leave now. There's a member of the Brotherhood on ever floor that will guide you to the exit where a guy named Proteus will lead you to a safe house."

And as everyone begins to walk to the stairs and elevators, Pyro turns back to stare at his cell one last time.

"Never again," he whispers a promise. "Never again."

The Scarlet Witch and Gambit lead the way, and Pyro walks in the back, burning everything as he passes.

He is laughing, and he is burning, and that is everything he needs.

Seems like the story of his life is changing. Again.

"You are going to be a good man, John," His father told him a long time ago, when he was five. "You are going to do great things."

And John could have been a very, very good man, he thinks. But Pyro decides to forever forget about him.