John's gotten used to running; he's been doing it most of his life. From school to school, foster home to foster home, state to state. Each time, someone starts out trying to pin him down, swearing it'll be different this time, that they can help him.
They're always wrong.
Sooner or later, they always find out what he is, what he can do. From the first accidental kitchen fire, to the last house he set ablaze when no one else was home – it always comes out eventually.
He's not even sure why he agrees to go with Professor Xavier. The guy's weird and too calm talking to someone who anyone else would've stuck in juvy by now. But the professor gets in his head, and that's the first time John really gets it – that there might be others like him.
There aren't exactly, as it turns out. The other kids have abilities, but not like the ones John has. Most of them are scared, but for once, they're more afraid of themselves than they are of John.
Still, he's not sure about it all. Most nights he can't sleep, and when he does, he dreams of old fires, wakes with the smell of smoke in his lungs. He dreams he lights this whole place up, and sometimes in his dreams he doesn't even care. He wakes up thinking he should leave in the night, but he doesn't – not yet.
People keep their distance, until the new kid. John can tell right away the kid's from a bit of money; he dresses like he's off to prep school, shakes John's hand like they're not two dumb teenagers who most of the world would classify as terrorists.
John kind of likes him, though, as much as John ever likes anybody. He might dress like someone whose wallet John would've stolen, but he's smart and funny and when John wakes up gasping for breath after another bad dream, he doesn't tell him to quit being a fucking baby, just runs his hand over the glass of water by John's bedside and offers him a cold drink.
Bobby tells him, a few days and another nightmare in, that his parents think this is a boarding school for smart kids. John laughs, but Bobby frowns at him and says, "I don't like lying to them. What about your folks?"
John doesn't answer, but from the look on Bobby's face he guesses that answers enough. "It's weird here, right?" Bobby asks, and John laughs again. He takes his zippo and lights a fire, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. "Yeah, it is," he answers.
Bobby smiles, something small and vulnerable that reminds John of when he still used to try to make a good impression on people. "But you'll stay, right?" Bobby asks, and he's looking at John, not what he can do. He reaches across their beds and he touches John's hand; the little flame turns to ice, but Bobby's still smiling, like John guesses a friend would.
"Yeah," John says, even though he just figured that out, somewhere between the ice in his hand and the blue of Bobby's eyes. "Yeah, I think I will."
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Date: 2014-06-21 10:41 pm (UTC)They're always wrong.
Sooner or later, they always find out what he is, what he can do. From the first accidental kitchen fire, to the last house he set ablaze when no one else was home – it always comes out eventually.
He's not even sure why he agrees to go with Professor Xavier. The guy's weird and too calm talking to someone who anyone else would've stuck in juvy by now. But the professor gets in his head, and that's the first time John really gets it – that there might be others like him.
There aren't exactly, as it turns out. The other kids have abilities, but not like the ones John has. Most of them are scared, but for once, they're more afraid of themselves than they are of John.
Still, he's not sure about it all. Most nights he can't sleep, and when he does, he dreams of old fires, wakes with the smell of smoke in his lungs. He dreams he lights this whole place up, and sometimes in his dreams he doesn't even care. He wakes up thinking he should leave in the night, but he doesn't – not yet.
People keep their distance, until the new kid. John can tell right away the kid's from a bit of money; he dresses like he's off to prep school, shakes John's hand like they're not two dumb teenagers who most of the world would classify as terrorists.
John kind of likes him, though, as much as John ever likes anybody. He might dress like someone whose wallet John would've stolen, but he's smart and funny and when John wakes up gasping for breath after another bad dream, he doesn't tell him to quit being a fucking baby, just runs his hand over the glass of water by John's bedside and offers him a cold drink.
Bobby tells him, a few days and another nightmare in, that his parents think this is a boarding school for smart kids. John laughs, but Bobby frowns at him and says, "I don't like lying to them. What about your folks?"
John doesn't answer, but from the look on Bobby's face he guesses that answers enough. "It's weird here, right?" Bobby asks, and John laughs again. He takes his zippo and lights a fire, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. "Yeah, it is," he answers.
Bobby smiles, something small and vulnerable that reminds John of when he still used to try to make a good impression on people. "But you'll stay, right?" Bobby asks, and he's looking at John, not what he can do. He reaches across their beds and he touches John's hand; the little flame turns to ice, but Bobby's still smiling, like John guesses a friend would.
"Yeah," John says, even though he just figured that out, somewhere between the ice in his hand and the blue of Bobby's eyes. "Yeah, I think I will."