Concrete Angels
Title: Concrete Angels
Author: Kendra sykoxfreak
Summary: It was nothing more than a closed lip kiss. It meant more to John than his whole pathetic life did. Because he had someone. Someone who cared about him from the day he met him. He had someone who loved him, and goddamn it felt good.
Rating: light PG-13
Warning: Mentions of child abuse, and a few cuss words
Notes: I know that Bobby and John didn't know each other until they were teens, but bare with me. For My Playlist. Prompt No. 23 Martina McBride-‘Concrete Angel’ I did edit the chorus at the end.
The Playlist
When John was really young, he used to get hit a lot. By his mother, his father (when he was around, which wasn’t often) even by the kids at school, before he moved to the states. He wasn’t use to people caring for him, so he stopped caring for them. John always thought that he was special, not because he could just think of the way he wanted a flame to look and it was like that. He thought he more special than that, because of what he can do to himself. All he has to do is think hard enough, and he would stop caring; like there was a switch in the back of his mind he could turn off and on. It always seemed to be in the off position.
John first met Bobby when he was six. They just somehow clicked, even though they were complete opposites. Bobby was from an upscale, high-class Boston family, and John was the immigrant from Australia with no money, and barely any food. Bobby sat down next to John at the lunch table in kindergarten. Bobby smile at John, who forced the smile that played on his lips. They exchanged ‘Hi’ and introduced themselves. Bobby traded John his turkey sandwich from the PB and J. John had, because ‘Turkey sandwiches are worst than the cooties girls have,' so elegantly said by Bobby. John laughed for the first time in…forever. They were inseparable after that.
When they got older, around third grade, Bobby would stick up for the quiet boy named St. John Allerdyce because St. John was his only true friend, even if he did have an accent, and kept to himself. When he heard people laughing at the goody-goody named Bobby Drake, he’d beat the crap out of them, because for that moment he wasn’t a victim anymore, but mostly it was always for Bobby. But when he got back home, he turned back into the victim. John made sure Bobby was naïve to the whole situation, but he didn’t need to worry; Bobby knew. Everyone who wasn’t completely immature knew, and that basically meant that girls knew to talk nicely to John and not call him an ‘idiot’ because he did something wrong.
When no one’s looking, John use to cry, and still does. It was fifth grade when Bobby found John actually crying. Bobby stood at the doorway of John’s teacher’s classroom and watched John hug himself in a ball and cry. Bobby understood in that moment what it means to have your heart broken by a sight. Bobby quietly shut the door, and tip-toed over to the boy. John’s back was facing him, and Bobby could see his vertebras through the thin fabric. The sleeves rode up on his arms and Bobby could see the bruises left in the form of a hand. When John came to school that day, his cheek was swollen and he refused to talk.
Bobby silently sat down behind John, opened his legs so that John could sit between them, and pulled him close. John instantly started to fight back, but he heard Bobby whisper words of sweet comfort to him, so he stopped his attack. Bobby slowly rocked John, imitating his mom when his baby brother fell and skinned his knee. John continued to cry, but he leaned into the touch, which seemed cold to him. John had asked him what was wrong? Was he sick? Bobby had ignored him, and whispered in John’s ear to not worry about him. To Bobby, John’s temp seemed to be way too high. John’s sobs quieted and he laced his hand in Bobby’s. John whispered a thanks, and attempted to stand, but Bobby held him down. Bobby nuzzled John’s neck and told him that he’d always have him, and that no one would hurt him anymore. John noted that the temperature in the room dropped suddenly, like someone kicked on the AC and blasted it.
It was three in the morning when John threw a rock at Bobby’s window. The fourteen year old climbed out of bed, and opened the window. John was inside and sitting on Bobby’s bed no more than 3.5 minuets later. The fourteen (and a half) year old John told Bobby that he was scared, and that instantly perked up his interest. John never admitted being scared. Never. Not even when he came to Bobby’s window bloody and bruised. Bobby had asked him why, and John pulled out a dirty lighter that looked like John found it on the street, which in fact he did.
John lit the lighter and balanced the flame in his hand. Bobby fell off his bed and propelled himself backwards towards the wall; away from John. John put out the flame, and had begged Bobby to not be afraid, he didn’t mean to scare him. John stood up to leave, and was half-way to the open window when it froze over with ice, at least an inch thick. Bobby whispered 'don’t leave,' and John didn’t. He turned back around and asked Bobby what were they? Bobby replied with an elegant shrug of shoulders and stands.
Bobby looked at John’s eyes and asked him what was wrong. He replied with the truth, for once. John tells Bobby how he didn’t mean to, but the pilot light wasn’t that far away, and both of them were coming at him, and they’re dead. Bobby merely stares at John, and the slightly older one starts to cry. Bobby reaches for John, and the other launches himself in his best friend’s chest. They fall asleep together, but only after they share a quick kiss, initiated by John. It was nothing more than a closed lip kiss. It meant more to John than his whole pathetic life did. Because he had someone. Someone who cared about him from the day he met him. He had someone who loved him, and goddamn it felt good.
On the way to school the next day, they went together, someone tackled them to the side, successfully getting them out of the way of a flying car. The boy’s hands laced together as a guy with sunglasses turned around and blasted this red laser thingy at this dude, who was floating. The floating dude looked at them, and under his breath, John noted the weird-ass hat he was wearing. The dude floating shot them a dirty look, and the guy with the laser blasted at the ground in front of the dude with the weird-ass hat. The hat dude floated away, saying something to no one in particular along the lines of ‘say hello to Charles from me.’
The boys were scared because the dude with a blaster thingy from his eyes turned back to face the boys. He introduced himself as Scott, and he was just like them: a mutant. He offered them a chance to stay where they wouldn’t be so misunderstood, where they could learn, a place where they could be safe. And safety was all Bobby wanted for John, and he knew that if he went, John would follow. Bobby agreed, and John merely followed Bobby to a jet that landed while they were talking. They sat on the seats behind the cockpit, still holding hands, while Scott explained everything to a redhead, and chick with hair the color of twilight. The boys drained them out and started to get lost in their own little world.
Bobby told John that as long as he breathed he would be there for him. No matter what. They were friends, and, yes, there had been a lot of bad stuff in between. But no matter what, Bobby would be there for him. That he loved him. John said those words back to him, and they shared a kiss as the jet lifted into the air, and took off.
That had been nearly two years ago, and Bobby was chasing after John because he stormed out of the jet that they first said those three words to each other in. Bobby was always a boy of his word, and he planned on keeping everyone. Bobby was standing knee deep in snow as white a Ororo’s hair, watching the black figure that is his John stood watching the helicopter with the dude with the weird-ass hat take off. John turns around, and sees Bobby standing there breathless. John walked over to him, as Bobby ran.
When they met somewhere in the middle, Bobby hugged him tightly.
"When we were six I gave you my turkey sandwich, and I ate your PBJ. When we were eight, I defended you. When we were eleven, I held you as you cried. When we were fourteen, I kissed you after you told me you killed your parents. When I was sixteen, I came after you to tell you I still love you, St. John. I always will."
John stood in the cold, teeth chattering, and Bobby wasn’t helping it at all. The other boy pulled back and looked at Bobby’s teary eyes. John kissed Bobby’s lips with his blue tinted ones, and hugged Bobby right back.
"When I was six, I didn’t trust or love anybody. When I was eight, I hated the world and everyone in it including myself, but not you. When I was eleven, I wanted to die. When I was fourteen, I fell in love. And when I’m sixteen, I couldn’t bare the though of leaving you."
They hold each other, the winter snow whipping around them. From a distance, they look like two Concrete Angels.
And that’s exactly what they are.
Through the wind and the rain
They stand hard as a stone
In a world that they can't rise above
But their dreams give them wings
And they fly to a place where they’re loved
Concrete Angels
Author: Kendra sykoxfreak
Summary: It was nothing more than a closed lip kiss. It meant more to John than his whole pathetic life did. Because he had someone. Someone who cared about him from the day he met him. He had someone who loved him, and goddamn it felt good.
Rating: light PG-13
Warning: Mentions of child abuse, and a few cuss words
Notes: I know that Bobby and John didn't know each other until they were teens, but bare with me. For My Playlist. Prompt No. 23 Martina McBride-‘Concrete Angel’ I did edit the chorus at the end.
The Playlist
When John was really young, he used to get hit a lot. By his mother, his father (when he was around, which wasn’t often) even by the kids at school, before he moved to the states. He wasn’t use to people caring for him, so he stopped caring for them. John always thought that he was special, not because he could just think of the way he wanted a flame to look and it was like that. He thought he more special than that, because of what he can do to himself. All he has to do is think hard enough, and he would stop caring; like there was a switch in the back of his mind he could turn off and on. It always seemed to be in the off position.
John first met Bobby when he was six. They just somehow clicked, even though they were complete opposites. Bobby was from an upscale, high-class Boston family, and John was the immigrant from Australia with no money, and barely any food. Bobby sat down next to John at the lunch table in kindergarten. Bobby smile at John, who forced the smile that played on his lips. They exchanged ‘Hi’ and introduced themselves. Bobby traded John his turkey sandwich from the PB and J. John had, because ‘Turkey sandwiches are worst than the cooties girls have,' so elegantly said by Bobby. John laughed for the first time in…forever. They were inseparable after that.
When they got older, around third grade, Bobby would stick up for the quiet boy named St. John Allerdyce because St. John was his only true friend, even if he did have an accent, and kept to himself. When he heard people laughing at the goody-goody named Bobby Drake, he’d beat the crap out of them, because for that moment he wasn’t a victim anymore, but mostly it was always for Bobby. But when he got back home, he turned back into the victim. John made sure Bobby was naïve to the whole situation, but he didn’t need to worry; Bobby knew. Everyone who wasn’t completely immature knew, and that basically meant that girls knew to talk nicely to John and not call him an ‘idiot’ because he did something wrong.
When no one’s looking, John use to cry, and still does. It was fifth grade when Bobby found John actually crying. Bobby stood at the doorway of John’s teacher’s classroom and watched John hug himself in a ball and cry. Bobby understood in that moment what it means to have your heart broken by a sight. Bobby quietly shut the door, and tip-toed over to the boy. John’s back was facing him, and Bobby could see his vertebras through the thin fabric. The sleeves rode up on his arms and Bobby could see the bruises left in the form of a hand. When John came to school that day, his cheek was swollen and he refused to talk.
Bobby silently sat down behind John, opened his legs so that John could sit between them, and pulled him close. John instantly started to fight back, but he heard Bobby whisper words of sweet comfort to him, so he stopped his attack. Bobby slowly rocked John, imitating his mom when his baby brother fell and skinned his knee. John continued to cry, but he leaned into the touch, which seemed cold to him. John had asked him what was wrong? Was he sick? Bobby had ignored him, and whispered in John’s ear to not worry about him. To Bobby, John’s temp seemed to be way too high. John’s sobs quieted and he laced his hand in Bobby’s. John whispered a thanks, and attempted to stand, but Bobby held him down. Bobby nuzzled John’s neck and told him that he’d always have him, and that no one would hurt him anymore. John noted that the temperature in the room dropped suddenly, like someone kicked on the AC and blasted it.
It was three in the morning when John threw a rock at Bobby’s window. The fourteen year old climbed out of bed, and opened the window. John was inside and sitting on Bobby’s bed no more than 3.5 minuets later. The fourteen (and a half) year old John told Bobby that he was scared, and that instantly perked up his interest. John never admitted being scared. Never. Not even when he came to Bobby’s window bloody and bruised. Bobby had asked him why, and John pulled out a dirty lighter that looked like John found it on the street, which in fact he did.
John lit the lighter and balanced the flame in his hand. Bobby fell off his bed and propelled himself backwards towards the wall; away from John. John put out the flame, and had begged Bobby to not be afraid, he didn’t mean to scare him. John stood up to leave, and was half-way to the open window when it froze over with ice, at least an inch thick. Bobby whispered 'don’t leave,' and John didn’t. He turned back around and asked Bobby what were they? Bobby replied with an elegant shrug of shoulders and stands.
Bobby looked at John’s eyes and asked him what was wrong. He replied with the truth, for once. John tells Bobby how he didn’t mean to, but the pilot light wasn’t that far away, and both of them were coming at him, and they’re dead. Bobby merely stares at John, and the slightly older one starts to cry. Bobby reaches for John, and the other launches himself in his best friend’s chest. They fall asleep together, but only after they share a quick kiss, initiated by John. It was nothing more than a closed lip kiss. It meant more to John than his whole pathetic life did. Because he had someone. Someone who cared about him from the day he met him. He had someone who loved him, and goddamn it felt good.
On the way to school the next day, they went together, someone tackled them to the side, successfully getting them out of the way of a flying car. The boy’s hands laced together as a guy with sunglasses turned around and blasted this red laser thingy at this dude, who was floating. The floating dude looked at them, and under his breath, John noted the weird-ass hat he was wearing. The dude floating shot them a dirty look, and the guy with the laser blasted at the ground in front of the dude with the weird-ass hat. The hat dude floated away, saying something to no one in particular along the lines of ‘say hello to Charles from me.’
The boys were scared because the dude with a blaster thingy from his eyes turned back to face the boys. He introduced himself as Scott, and he was just like them: a mutant. He offered them a chance to stay where they wouldn’t be so misunderstood, where they could learn, a place where they could be safe. And safety was all Bobby wanted for John, and he knew that if he went, John would follow. Bobby agreed, and John merely followed Bobby to a jet that landed while they were talking. They sat on the seats behind the cockpit, still holding hands, while Scott explained everything to a redhead, and chick with hair the color of twilight. The boys drained them out and started to get lost in their own little world.
Bobby told John that as long as he breathed he would be there for him. No matter what. They were friends, and, yes, there had been a lot of bad stuff in between. But no matter what, Bobby would be there for him. That he loved him. John said those words back to him, and they shared a kiss as the jet lifted into the air, and took off.
That had been nearly two years ago, and Bobby was chasing after John because he stormed out of the jet that they first said those three words to each other in. Bobby was always a boy of his word, and he planned on keeping everyone. Bobby was standing knee deep in snow as white a Ororo’s hair, watching the black figure that is his John stood watching the helicopter with the dude with the weird-ass hat take off. John turns around, and sees Bobby standing there breathless. John walked over to him, as Bobby ran.
When they met somewhere in the middle, Bobby hugged him tightly.
"When we were six I gave you my turkey sandwich, and I ate your PBJ. When we were eight, I defended you. When we were eleven, I held you as you cried. When we were fourteen, I kissed you after you told me you killed your parents. When I was sixteen, I came after you to tell you I still love you, St. John. I always will."
John stood in the cold, teeth chattering, and Bobby wasn’t helping it at all. The other boy pulled back and looked at Bobby’s teary eyes. John kissed Bobby’s lips with his blue tinted ones, and hugged Bobby right back.
"When I was six, I didn’t trust or love anybody. When I was eight, I hated the world and everyone in it including myself, but not you. When I was eleven, I wanted to die. When I was fourteen, I fell in love. And when I’m sixteen, I couldn’t bare the though of leaving you."
They hold each other, the winter snow whipping around them. From a distance, they look like two Concrete Angels.
And that’s exactly what they are.
Through the wind and the rain
They stand hard as a stone
In a world that they can't rise above
But their dreams give them wings
And they fly to a place where they’re loved
Concrete Angels