X-Men - ... can you save me from myself? (PART 2)
TITLE: ...can you save me from myself?
FANDOM: X-men
{during the third movie}
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: smut // bad, bad language
{fluffy-lover? Don't bother.}
PAIRING: Rogue/Pyro, hints of Rogue/Bobby
STATUS: 2/3
SUMMARY: She could still back away. Gods, he wished she would - do it, change your mind, get the fuck away from here, you fucking idiot - because if she didn't... she'd regret it.
A/N: Well. I already posted the first part, can't go back now... It is weird how much it annoys me that I can't remember what Rogue and Pyro were wearing during that scene from where the fic starts ::grumpy::
{Anyway, I'll try and write the third, final part ASAP, I swear! Just till I do, tell me what you think of this bit - I know, I know, so far there's been NO action at all - don't flame me for that one cause I'll be really sad and broken, meh... would it help if I promise I'll make it up in the next part? It'll be full of action, I swear. Holy. And if it turns out I'm lying, as it sometimes does, you can steal all of my best friend's DVD's, ok? I'm sure F would appreciate it ::snickers:: Seriously though, just didn't want to jump straight to the hot stuff action, not when there's so many little background details to share... mwuahaha!}
This part is totally, utterly and completely dedicated to lilhobbit because without my lil F, I never would've gotten this part written. She just had to kick my butt a little.
---- ♥ Still not beta-read. Any betas volunteering? No? DAMN YOU PEOPLE ::cries:: If there's something wrong with my grammar, blame scatterhearts cause SHE was supposed to fix it. Mwuahaha. No seriously, it's her fault.
---- ♥ Feel free to friend my journal if you wanna stay up to date with my stuff, you don't have to ask. All my really personal rants will be friends only, anyways :) You don't have to let me know, either, unless you want me to add you back, in which case, check out the user info first, ohkay? Ohkay, all good, then.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters, blah blah, no money is being made, etc etc, don't sue me, yada yada.
· PART 1
... can you save me from myself?
by Syrai
PART 2
She felt numb, cold.
Somehow empty.
Whereas she should’ve been screaming from the top of her lungs she was… silent.
Lifeless.
Was she in shock, maybe?
Yeah, it had to be that, the only reason good enough to answer his unspoken question. Why else would she have let him drag her down the street like she was some soulless puppet, a doll to be dressed up and played with?
Being what he was, thinking about playing made his smile grow vicious, but flirtatious. Indeed. There’d be some games, hell yeah, lots and lots of those and not the flat, boring ones that you placed on a coffee table and played with a damned dice that always had to find its way under the ugly flower patterned sofa. He’d never been one to enjoy such platonic games, anyway.
(Although, to be exact and truthful, just the way he always was, this game could’ve been placed and played on a table, too, right?)
Oh! If someone had seen his smirk right now, they would’ve said it was like a little boy’s who’d been promised candy if he behaved. In a way, it was pretty close… he had just been thinking how there would probably be some dressing up, too, if he had his way…
It was weird, though, even from his point of view. He hated it when she fought him, refused to acknowledge what he already knew… no, she just had to keep doing it, refusing to admit the obvious chemistry he knew damn well existed between the two of them, the kind she’d never share with that fucking iceman of hers. He didn’t have what it took. Passion needed fire, not ice.
But still, at the same time, he hated having this inanimate puppet lying in his hands. This was not the Rogue he wanted to see and feel, feel her burn him, from inside out. That Rogue didn’t take shit from anyone, least of all from him, nor did she act like this… give up that fucking easy. Where was the challenge in that, huh?
So it had to be the shock causing this. Shock and confusion together, they were making her unable to function the way she normally would’ve if things had been different. Normal. In her pretty little head, she was probably trying to make sense of the situation and he liked to assume she was failing miserably. It wasn't like it made sense to him either, so naturally, she’d fail, too.
All he knew for sure was that it was her fault. Somehow.
He didn't care how hard his fingers dug into her forearm through the soft fabric of her jacket as he tugged her forward. Knowing this, she didn't even bother letting out a noise of any kind to let it be known she was actually hurting... just like she knew it wouldn’t have had any effect on him even if she had. He didn’t have the energy to care whether he was walking too fast for her or not, either, which didn't surprise her one bit. He had never cared about such things in his life and well, it wasn't likely for him to start any day soon.
So what if she stumbled every other second, almost falling on her face against the dirty cement? So what if her safety hung on his shoulders now, huh? Of course he didn't care, why would he have? Besides, if anything, he enjoyed himself; being the only one, the only thing there able to put an end to it and keep her standing… if he wished so, that was.
The only thing there to keep her from falling.
To Pyro, it was all poetic. Ironic, but poetic all the same.
He could've easily loosened his grip and let her go tumbling on to the ground, simply to show her that right now she truly was under his mercy and that no matter what she thought, she needed his protection or she'd slip and crumble.
I could let you fall, yes, but I'm not going to. He never would.
I could hurt you a little… a lot, honestly, but I’d never let you fall.
She had to realize it sooner or later. He preferred sooner, but whatever hit her fancy. He just needed her to see it, eventually, and it didn’t really matter when. Only needed her to see and accept it some time in the future.
If Rogue had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed the slight change of pace in his steps - and therefore in hers, but she didn’t. He slowed down, not much, but enough for one to sense something wasn’t the same anymore, but she was too caught up with her own plotting to give a damn. Which, if she had taken time to think about it further, would’ve seemed weird even to her - how could she have trusted him so blindly, letting him guide her forward?
Pyro, however, did spot it and immediately felt his hopes raising their chuckling heads from behind the gravestones.
Right… suddenly the level of his enjoyment came down a level or two.
So, what now, smart-ass?
He had been thinking about a table, but whose table?
Where the hell was he supposed to take her now that he basically had her on a short, tight and very leathery leash? After catching a butterfly such as this one, there was no way in hell anyone would let such beauty go back into the wild, unknown to humankind.
Oh, Jesus, that sounded wrong. Why? Oh, right, right, he’d never given a flying fuck about humankind. Like ever.
Well, just the same, as long as he got his point across the nations, all was good.
Fuck. A frustrated look twisted his face for a passing moment, made him want to let out a deep, growling sigh, but fearing Rogue would catch on to things if he did, he simply forced his eyes to stare into the street in front of them. He swallowed the sigh, with a curse already on his lips. Fine, admittedly, he didn't always think his plans through that carefully and every once in a while he found himself doing exactly what he was doing now; literally cursing his temper for leading him into complicated situations that always promised trouble.
Well, to his defense, he had always believed in the old saying about spontaneity being the great road to brilliance. Or was it brilliant things? No, wait, was that even truly an old saying or just something he had come up with?
Fuck that.
What did it matter? The point was that spontaneity had brought a great deal of trouble with it… which, Pyro chuckled, should’ve been a good thing like it usually was. Well, he did love trouble.
And Marie? Yep, he mused with a dark smirk, she was definitely trouble. He could just tell.
Hell, that explained why it was her fault, did it not?
He glanced over his shoulder with face on basic readings again, to take yet another look at his little companion without having to fear her grasping his thoughts. Turned out he didn’t have to worry about that one, as she simply stared down at the cement plates without taking her eyes off of them for a second, mind obviously occupied with some thoughts he imagined involving that fucking Drake.
Pyro could see, inside his head, a thousand little moving images of Bobby and Rogue, lying in bed, kissing, touching, naked skin against sweaty flesh… so how does it feel, Marie, how does it feel to have something so fucking cold? Something so cold when you could’ve so very easily gotten something different… something powerful, raw, sensual. Like you.
And the only thing he could think about after that, until Rogue broke the silence by her next move, was that what the little mutant girl needed, wasn’t Bobby and his ice, not by far.
Because true passion, as established, it needed fire.
0000
It had been over 20 minutes or so that they had spent walking in the nearly empty street (if you didn’t count the occasional stray cats that every other second followed them for a few minutes in hopes of getting some food), both locked into the deep tunnels of their darkened minds and not bothering to share.
Rogue hadn't said a single word yet, though she had been highly tempted to start screaming and struggling. The only reason she didn’t even want to try and see what would happen if she did, was that she knew this mutant well enough to realize she’d endanger lives by doing so. He’d hurt anyone, be it child or adult that dared to come to her aid…not that there'd been anyone out there to actually to perform the said act, so, whatever.
The next best thing she could come up with was to insult him, hurt him, but she thought better of it. As if that had actually helped her somehow, you know. Not really.
Besides the fact she had nothing else to say - there was nothing that would make Pyro magically vanish - she also figured the pyromaniac would assume she was just suffering from some sort of initial shock or fear that prevented her from trying anything. While she absolutely hated the idea of letting him live believing she was afraid of him (God, she wanted to puke just thinking about it, or claw his eyes out, one of the two), she reasoned it was her best way out of it, away from him. If he thought she was scared, too damn scared to do anything at all, much less put up a fight; then he surely didn’t expect her to tempt an escape, either.
But an escape it was that she attempted.
Sharpening her human (why did the word bite her tongue like that, hurting, drawing blood?) senses, she came to the conclusion Pyro's mind was nowhere near earth. He was trying to shield it from her, obviously, but the voice inside her ear, echoing, echoing, echoing, it told her he was weak now.
Rogue, she remembered how she had used to be so good when it came to reading his moods, knowing and recognizing them by simply standing next to him. Even with closed eyes, she could feel his mood. It was the way the air vibrated, the way his body radiated, sending waves that only her sensors could detect. Above anything, she hated admitting it, that there was this weird, unbreakable connection there…a connection that she was ashamed of. She couldn’t do anything about it , but given the chance she would’ve gladly jumped at any opportunity to get rid of it.
Bobby had always joked about it, how she could just by glancing in his direction once or twice say exactly what was going through his head. Pyro, known more officially as John at the time, never admitted she had “guessed” right, but dismissed the whole conversation with a wave of his hand if anyone ever came to inquire his mood. Sometimes Bobby got curious though and at first Rogue had pretended she had no idea what he was talking about. That they were lucky guesses. After awhile she had decided to change the story and after that her explanation was that it was all due to that one time she had accidentally touched him during class.
That, being good at reading his moods, though, was before the sarcastic boy had learnt to build even stronger walls around his insides and she had been coldly left outside. Still, there were some things even he couldn’t keep locked no matter how he tried, no matter how much time had gone by since that essential touch. Maybe, because it was so much more than just physical…
The truth was the link had always been there even before their skins had met ever so briefly, but at the time, it had been like a dormant feature in her DNA, sleeping in its hideaway and waiting for the prince charming to kiss it awake. That touch had been the kiss, the needed catalyst that eventually sparked the connection to its full intensity.
Having the infamous John Allerdyce inside her head for a whole day had been a somewhat enlightening experience, but not the kind she’d wanted to repeat any time soon. All the pain and anger, all that consuming hatred, which had made her especially bitchy and mean for the rest of the day, it had been too much for her to handle… too much. Then, when she had been forced to do it again to save the policemen stupid enough to come too close in Boston, it had taken even longer to rid his essence from her mind, from her dreams. Sometimes she could still feel him there, just like she could feel Wolverine and Bobby, only his voice was always the smoothest, always the strongest.
Bobby… Rogue, she loved Bobby; all she wanted was a connection, this strong mental link with him, not with a lunatic killer, who couldn’t tell right from wrong. That was the only thing she remembered wanting, ever, just him. That was what had driven her to take the Cure. It was ironic how the most important decision of her life had been done in order for her to come closer to Bobby and in the end it could be their end. If Pyro was right… no, he’s not right. They will understand!
And with all this, with all the racing thoughts spinning around in her head, arousing a headache that could’ve been described more like as a volcano erupting, she decided it was time to get away. Get away from him, from this situation, and go back to the people with whom she belonged.
Back to Bobby.
First, trying to keep their current pace not to alert him in anyway, she snatched her arm free from the firm hold and without staying to watch how he turned around, amazed, she ran. By doing this, she failed to see how his expression changed from amazed into expectant and then, frustrated.
0000
If there was anything Pyro hated, it was unexpected surprises. It was one thing to face an expected surprise because then at least, you had seen it coming. Sort of.
He'd not seen this one coming, which made it a fucking unexpected surprise. Why hadn't he, seriously?
Pyro had assumed she’d fight… really, he wanted her to fight, yeah, but he had never, not once, thought about having to run after the bitch.
He sighed, before drawing in a deep breath, trying not to kick the wall next to him. Just breathe and calm down.
God, she was still running. That was just evil.
Fuck. He hated running, damnit! But nevertheless he started to run, faster, faster than ever before in his life, calling after her, demanding her to come back to him or she'd suffer the consequences. And it's not gonna be pretty, Marie, it's gonna make you cry and you'll beg, you'll beg for me to stop and you know what I'll say? Wanna know what I'll say, huh?
Yeah. He hated running, but at least, for the first time he saw something worth the nuisance.
When she'd ask why, he'd say...
I'll say, you brought it on yourself, Marie.
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TBC in the third part Please tell me what you think of it so far!