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Eloi	By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5007 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Eloi
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11 and 12
- 12-13
- 13-14
- 14-15
- 15-16
- 16-17
- 17-18
- 18-19
- 19-20
- 20-21
- 21-22
- 22-23
- 23-24
- 24-25
- 25-26
- 26-27
- 27-28
- 28-29
- 29-30
- 30-31
- 31-32
- 32-33
- 33-34
- 34-35
- 35-36 and 37
- 36-38 and 39
- 37-40
- 38-41
- 39-42
- 40-43
- 41-44
- 42-45
- 43-46
- 44-47
- 45-48
- 46-49
- 47-50
- 48-51
- 49-52
- 50-53
- 51-54
- 52-55
- 53-56
- 54-57
- 55-58
- 56-59
- 57-60
- 58-61
- 59-62
- 60-63
- 61-64
- 62-65
- 29
- 30
- 31
Eloi Chapter Thirty One
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE �, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta� I think all the
finger and toe crossing worked.
InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena, and Greywolf are loverly and
wondermous for archiving/hosting. ProPhile:
More tonight. Morgan: *glomp * Readers/Reviewers: Thanks for reading/reviewing as you can!

Bobby felt
warm, as if he were wrapped in blankets.
It was almost unpleasant but not quite.
He was still comfortable enough to lay there on the hard bed in the
medical lab, listening to Beast murmur to Cecilia on the phone. He wanted to stand up but he could not. _Why did he tie me down? _ His lips moved but
no sound came out save for a soft groan.
Saint John�s face appeared
in his line of vision, marred by worry and fear, and something cold and wet was
pressed against his lips.
�It�s just
water,� Saint John replied,
pressing the washcloth against Bobby�s lips again. �You�re parched.�
Bobby
groaned, this time an honest groan of frustration. He could not get the words he wanted to come
forth and he was afraid to stop trying.
He had heard himself babbling earlier, heard the railings and odd
commentary leave his throat. He
remembered the look on Jean�s face when he reached for her. It was as if he could not control
himself. Now, he knew Jean had been
moved. She was in the small, private
room nearest Beast�s office, usually reserved for younger students getting
shots or blood draws, those who were not used to the lack of privacy an
emergency situation could entail. Scott
was there, Bobby knew, because he could hear him talking in low, soft tones to
Jean much like Saint John was doing
for him. He wondered if Scott was mad at
him for trying to grab Jean like that earlier.
Saint John distracted him
from that line of thought, though, with a kiss brushed across his
forehead. A well of heat seemed to
bubble up inside him, firey and consuming. His gaze focused on Saint
John�s eyes and seemed to lock there, following each
movement of his lover�s glances, the dark sweep of lashes against pale skin as
his lids fluttered shut for just a moment in mute worry, the blaze of
jewel-toned color when he looked down again.
�You have beautiful eyes,� Bobby said quietly, no trace of roughness or
pain in his voice. _What the Hell? _
Saint
John laughed softly, his brows shooting up in surprise
for just a bare moment. �Flirt. Even when you�re laid up in bed, you�re a
flirt.� He pushed some stray strands off
of Bobby�s forehead and leaned close, kissing him again almost chastely. �You�re
burning up though! Here�� He half-stood, reaching across his boyfriend
for the drinking cup on the other side of the bed, intending to fill it from
the pitcher of ice water near him. A
sudden, sharp pain in his chest made him gasp, though, and draw back
hastily. �Did you just *bite* me?�
Bobby
smiled sweetly. �Would you like it if I
had?� He pushed himself up on his
elbows, his smile going from sweet to edged.
�Or would you like something else instead? We have relative privacy,� he added, glancing
at Tabby curled on the far bed, her bare feet the only thing showing from
beneath the covers.
Saint
John sat back in the chair Beast had provided for him,
the plastic creaking slightly under his weight.
�Bobby, you�re not well.� Something was wrong with his eyes. They seemed too bright, too intent. Almost as if he were a hunter spotting
prey. �I think you need to rest� Let me
go get Beast�� He pushed the chair back
and stood, stiffening in reaction when Bobby�s hand closed around his
wrist. �You�re hurting me, Bobby,� he
said calmly as he could manage. �Please
let go.�
�No,� the
younger teenager replied petulantly. �I�d
rather not.�
_His voice
is different� almost like he has an accent�
_ Saint John
shot a glance at Beast�s office door. The doctor was still on the phone, conferring
with Cecilia or flirting, Saint John
did not know which. _Damn it� _
Screaming or shouting would startle Bobby, possibly into doing something
rash. Trying to fight him off might
cause him to hurt himself or worse, Saint John
further reasoned. Slowly, he sat back
down in the chair and scooted towards the bed, Bobby�s grasp on his wrist
painful. �Okay, you don�t have to sleep,�
he said carefully. �Let�s talk. How�re you feeling? Better?�
�Very much
alive,� Bobby replied, a slight laugh in his voice. �I don�t know why I didn�t do this
sooner. Moping around all the time,
ignoring the pleasures offered me� I was a fool, Saint
John.� He
released the blond�s wrist and smoothed his hands
over the sheet covering his legs. �No more.
I can do more like this, I can be everything� I�m not going to be
prisoner anymore.�
_Okay,
Bobby�s gone cuckoo for CocoPuffs� _[1] �You�re not a prisoner, Bobby.�
�Not
anymore!� he replied, sounding on the verge of manic. �Never again!�
�When were
you imprisoned?� Saint John asked
gently. �Is it something I did?� He was afraid to reach for him again, afraid
that he would get hurt or accidentally hurt Bobby.
�No, you
twit, it was never you. It was *him*�� His eyes had taken on a far away look, seeing
some enemy that was not there. �He bound
me to him, the words of ancestors and symbols marking my corporeal form�� He
trailed off, his eyes shifting to Saint John.
�You shouldn�t know my secret. It�ll get you killed.�
Saint
John swallowed hard.
�I won�t tell. I promise.�
�No� I know
you won�t tell�� Bobby moved fast, his
hand shooting out to catch Saint John
on the throat. The blond teenager did
not get a chance to move and was knocked to the floor. Almost imperceptibly, a pale mist rose from
the fallen mutant, flowing towards Bobby.
�You can�t tell anyone now.�

[1] From a
commercial of varying annoyance levels
- 29
- 30
- 31
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