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... can you save me from myself?	By : savysavestheday Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Het - Male/Female Views: 3588 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
TITLE: ...can you save me from myself?

FANDOM: X-men

{during the third movie}

RATING: NC-17

WARNINGS: smut // violence // bad, bad language

{fluffy-lover? Don't bother.}

PAIRING: Rogue/Pyro, hints of Rogue/Bobby

STATUS: unfinished for the time being

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: I don't know what the hell I'm thinking. Either I've gone without
sleep too long or then we can blame all those deliciously twisted
Hermione/Draco fics I've been consuming lately. Ah, that pairing just never
bores me (don't bother arguing, ok?)

... anyway, I guess I needed to compensate and since I absolutely hated X-men:
the last fucking stand (while I absolutely loved Pyro in there ^_^), I figured
I could at least write one fic to make it less... I dunno, bad? Rogue wouldn't
have abandoned her friends like that during the crisis just to be 'cured' from
her freakin' mutancy, dammit ::mutters:: and even if she had been about to make
that idiotic mistake, I think someone should've stopped her... Guess who? Yeah,
heh.

I guess it's somewhat obvious that I've become full-time Rogue/Pyro shipper. Mwuahahahah!
The power of the dark side! Delicious.

{I apologize in advance; if the fic is nothing but a bad repeat of my other
pyro/rogue fic 'the Best Kind of Reality' just kick me and be done with it,
ok? Ok. I can't help the fact this is the kind of Pyro I like and there
ain't that many fics out there...}

The fic is totally dedicated to F � after the lack of Jeremy/Tara action in
you-know-what-fic, I guess you deserve this one, sweets... And well, I guess
it's for all those adorable peeps that liked my first x-men fic too and asked
me to write something else. Here goes nothing.

{Saliva was my muse... Especially the songs 'Always' and 'Weight of the
World'... ::sigh:: Then there was VAST, but duh, I'm easy that way...
bad me.}

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters, blah blah, no money is being
made, etc etc, don't sue me, yada yada.

...
can you save me from myself?

by Syrai

PART 1

One single click and there was a small, barely visible bolt of fire between his
fingertips, warm and familiar. Strong, destructive.

Just like its owner.

God, he absolutely loved this new, dark leather outfit of his as it came with a
fucking gorgeous flame thrower device attached to his arm, always there, never
failing to create fire for him to play with. Although, he had to admit; at
times he did miss his old lighter (it had been his only friend for many years,
so) and especially the comforting sound it made. He still had it, somewhere,
but rarely bothered to play with it. Or had time, really.

He closed his fist killing the fire, only to bring it back to life a second
after.

In silence he took in his surroundings, ignoring the massive amount of people -
humans - around him, ignoring the elbows that hit him, feet that stepped on his
toes againd and again, heads blocking his view, all those loud, deafening
screams full of fear and hatred directed at his kinds... there was a line of
hundreds of mutants further away from the crowd of humans among which he stood.

What a fucking day it would be... he felt bad for what he was about to do, but
only for a moment. They would deserve it, those mutants lining there, each and
every one of them. They didn't deserve to be alive.

And then... what the fuck?

The instant Pyro recognized her familiar figure, standing there in the middle
of the nervous crowd, looking so lost, so out of place, he felt far too
familiar jolt of frustration washing through and the flame he'd been slowly
growing in his hand, was suffocated in a flash.

He knew why she was there... He knew exactly what she was doing and why, and it
angered him like nothing else ever could.

For Bobby, always for Bobby fucking Drake.

Well, he had to give it to her � and he did, but bitterly, with sour taste on
his tongue - obviously some things never changed. She still possessed the
ability to get under his skin by just being there, breathing. Seriously, he had
thought he couldn't get any angrier than he already had been because of these
pathetic fools, wanting to rid their powers, but fuck, all it took was a
glimpse of her brown hair and grey skunk stripe, a glimpse of her heartbroken
face and the simple knowledge that she was there. She was there, alone,
defensless, completely unprepared for what would happen if he decided to make
his presence known.

She didn't know any of those things, though, because she, as usual, thought she
could take care of herself and that she could fight. She relied on her power,
on her gift. And a great gift it was too, he had never denied that � if it had
been someone else, she would've been right, she would've been able to fight.
But unlike her delusions described, Pyro, he wasn't afraid of her power, he
didn't fear it like most did and he never had. When she had saved her life by
using her power on Wolverine - after been pierced by his long claws, of course,
so in a way the shithead had deserved it anyway � everyone had been whispering
for weeks, stepping aside whenever she got too close.

Everyone, but him. It was only later that she actually got to use her power on
Pyro himself, giving him a reason to fear � but he didn't. In all honesty, he
fucking liked it, he liked the way it felt when she sucked his energy into
herself, made him feel dead and alive at the same time, took a piece of him and
never gave it back � it would always stay with her, inside her head, she'd
always remember. Because then, only then, he didn't feel so alone anymore. So
why fear it? She didn't know that, either. There's so little you know, so
little, but I could tell you, teach you if you'd let me, if only you'd let me.
But she had always been too stubborn to admit the truth, always acting so sure,
so tough when in reality, she was anything but... a golden bird in a rusty
cage, that was what she was, at least as long as the fucker was with her.

Just like that the mission he had been so ready and more importantly, so
fucking eager to accomplish, was forgotten - he couldn't do it, not now.
Magneto wouldn't be angry, he'd understand - he always understood, but
afterwards Pyro would loathe himself for it, for having such weakness... for
showing it. The others would never let him hear the end of it if they found out
the reason all those people had stayed alive was a girl. A one girl.

It was all her fucking fault, honestly.

He remembered how she had once stood in the hallway near the dorms, staring at
him with cold eyes full of anger after he had yet again fought with Drake. He
didn't remember what the fight with the fucker had been about, he just
remembered her. She had been silent at first, just glared at him with trembling
lips, trying to hold it in... but after awhile, she had finally snapped at him,
called him an asshole and told him that everything that was wrong in her life
was because of him, because he couldn't let Bobby be - couldn't let her be.

Because he was one cocky son of a bitch, she had screamed, who thought too
highly of himself, but who had no one in his life to love and return the said
feeling and so he needed to make everyone else around him feel as miserable as
he felt. You're nothing but a pile of shit and everyone knows it... and you
hate it, John, hate the fact they all know.

At that moment she had truly believed so, which amused him. How could she ever
be so wrong? He had laughed at her face, just laughed and called her pathetic,
among other things � all that crap about love and emotions she had spat out of
her mouth thinking she had finally hit a nerve, didn't shut him up. It was the
last thing he wanted for his life, didn't she understand that? In the end none
of it mattered.

You always die alone.

Some day she'd understand it and he wanted to be there to see her face when
that happened. There would come a day when she'd wake up from this ridiculous
dream world of hers and she'd see her true potential, not only as a girl, but
as a mutant too. Don't ruin it now, don't let them take it away from you. And
so, instead of doing what he had been told to, he simply observed the girl
trying to stay behind the protective mass of people, hidden from her eyes and
figure out what the fuck he was supposed to do next.

Then, out of blue, he saw something fly � was that a fucking stone, he wasn't sure
and he really didn't have time to react, either - towards her and hit her arm.
Painfully, he realised as she winced taking a few steps back, shielding her
body with her arms... he waited, but nothing happened. Other than that, she was
completely ignoring the fact some mutant-fearing cuntface had just thrown
something at her. The older man next to her, with whom she had changed a couple
of words somewhere during the long wait, was now yelling at someone while
pushing her closer to the other mutants in somewhat fatherly manner.

For that alone, Pyro almost stopped hating him.

Hell, things would never change, would they? Not with Rogue, not with the
stupid little mutant girl who didn't know shit about the real world, but always
kept putting herself in harm's way without better knowledge. Not with the girl
who obviously thought she could buy his love like this, Bobby's love. The only
thing she seemed to care about. The guy wasn't even worth her time for fuck's
sake! Not worth this, not this kind humilation... But of course, she being the
naive little thing she was, she didn't care about that. She just wanted to be
able to touch him, really touch him, to feel his skin against hers as if that
was the only true thing that mattered in life and death. It wasn't, but she
didn't know that, she hadn't learnt all the valuable lessons yet.

But she'd learn. He'd teach her, if no one else would. I swear I will, really.

He hated the fact he knew it was all for Bobby � that he didn't even have to
spend a single second to figure out why she was there. He hated the fact she
loved him that much.

But what he actually hated the most, was how the stupid girl made a fool out of
herself without even knowing it. She honestly seemed to believe it could work;
that she could make that asshole hers like this, just hers. Probably thought he
would appreciate it to the point of being humbly touched, and then, in her
fucked up dreams, then he'd kneel down on one knee with tears in his eyes,
holding red roses, and ask her to marry him like life had been a fucking
fairytale. Yeah, the little wench was ready to kill an essential part of
herself, abandon her own true heritage that defined her, made her special and
for what? For a good fuck? Bitch! You will never learn on your own, Marie, you'll
never see he's not worth the trouble, 'cause you're too fucking scared to face
the world alone, away from him, and find out.

He clenched his fists against each other, nails painfully digging into flesh
and almost drawing blood, but he didn't feel the pain. He couldn't. Not right
now. Later. And when he'd feel it... someone would have a hell to pay. You'll
pay, you will.

Pyro wanted, not only to beat the living shit out of Bobby dearest for being
the kind of pussy he was (no doubt he had done something to cause this, there
was no other reason she'd been there with that look in her eyes), but to call
out her name, aloud. Scream from the top of his lungs... say something, it
didn't matter, whatever, anything, say it! Anything to catch her
attention. He wanted her know he was there, that she had been caught redhanded
and that she should've been nothing but damn ashamed for ever thinking she
could go and betray her kinds like this.

You can't save the humans, we're the future, when are you gonna realise that,
you stupid little thing? But even then, even when she had been fighting on the
opposite side, intensly defending her own beliefs... in some twisted way even
he couldn't understand, he had actually been proud of her then. She had fought
for what she thought was right and that had made her strong, cabable. Worthy.

And now she was about to lose it, the only thing that made her strong,
different from those fuckers. She still had time to snap out of it and change
her mind, he noted and it cheered him up a little. Just do it. She could still
back away if she wanted to. 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.

He would make her regret it, he decided simply. And afterwards, she would feel
empty. Not because of what he'd do to her, but because of what she'd done.
She'd feel pain. You should too, if you go through with it. You'll deserve it.
She would grow old and regret the fact she got rid of her gift for a boy who
didn't even belong to her, wasn't her soulmate. Pyro knew Bobby wasn't. He just
knew. Sometimes all you had to do was look at a couple and you'd know whether
or not they'd have a happily ever after. These two, they didn't, not together.

Gods, Rogue was fire, couldn't Drake feel it every time he actually did bring
himself to touch her quickly, couldn't he see it in her eyes? How fucking blind
was he? In her true form, behind that fucking shell, she was raw and sensual,
she was powerful. It was his fault � fuck Drake and his fucking ice � that she
had been turned into something else, something plastic. She looked like a
freakin' mouse now, scared, defeated, worried.

Unsure.

So stop her then, don't fucking let her do it, stop her, asshole! He was already
about to move, when his brain suddenly did seem to get a hold of his body. No,
no, he shook his head, ordering himself to stay still, trying to silence that
annoying voice echoing inside his head, which kept saying she'd thank him for
it. He couldn't. You can't. You can't interfere, just stay the hell away.. It
was her decision, only hers and he understood. You gotta make this choice,
love, but you better make the right one... because... because it was what would
happen afterwards that rested upon his shoulders, that was why.

Or maybe, he mused with a malicious smirk returning his face, he should've
wished for her to make the wrong decision, after all. Chances were he would
have much, much more entertaining couple of days than he had anticipated if that
was to happen...

0000

Two hours -
two long hours that she had spent doing nothing but walking aimlessly around
the city with no place to go. She wasn't ready to return to the school and face
the others, at least not yet, and so she kept walking, randomly turning from
one street to another. God, how was she to tell them what she had done? Would
they understand? Could they? They didn't know how it felt... you have no clue
how hard it has been for me! How hard it had been just to be her!

Yes, it had been two hours since she had taken the Cure, felt it ravish her
body and steal something, something that was hers alone. It had been painful,
not only physically as the fluid had rushed through her veins altering
everything it touched, but also mentally. Actually, when she thought of it,
that was what had hurt more - the emotions. Guilt, regret... and she didn't
understand why; why did she feel those things? This was the only thing she<
had wanted ever since her turning, right? Just this.

But even so, the voice didn't leave her alone.

Was it really what she had wanted? Or was it what someone else had
wanted, even though they'd never say it?

No, you did this for yourself.

Then why did she still feel morose? She had abandoned them, her friends
and the mutants that had taken care of her and been the only ones to accept
her... for him? No matter how she tried telling herself that was not what she
had done - I did not abandon them, I didn't -, the feeling of guilt
still squeezed its fist around her heart, squeezed and squeezed.

In the end the simple truth was that they were somewhere out there, fighting
and well, where the hell was she?

Not with them.

And that, she realised, was the only thing that mattered right now. What hurt
the most. Mutant or no mutant powers, she should've been there by their side.
Then why wasn't she? Why the fuck was she here, alone?

The hell she knew. Either way, she reflected there was nothing much she could
do now anyway. Pray, perhaps, pray that everyone returned home safe and sound,
but that was it. God, no... her body halted as if she had just hit a brickwall
as the thought tickling the back of her mind finally fully reached her
consciousness. Was that the only thing she could do for her friends for the
rest of her days? Pray?

Fuck!

Just...

"Fuck!" She spat angry at herself and not caring if anyone heard -
the streets were pretty much empty from people anyway, too much going on
somewhere else. People and their over curious minds and fucked up obsessions.

"Poor Marie," a thick voice pestered out of nowhere, startling the
girl to near the border of a heartattack, "already regretting?"

She didn't have to turn to know who it was that had spoken the words - she had
never been able to forget that ardent and spiteful voice - but she did spun
around anyway. Out of pure defiance, of course, since there was no way in hell
she would let him get the upper hand by letting her concern shine through. It
was always a game of power with him, she knew that all too well, but for the
first time ever, she had nothing with what to play it. Trying to shelter her
uneasiness - what, was that a twinge of fear tucking her insides - and putting
on a cold smile meant to mask her emotions, she turned to look at the boy
behind her.

How the fuck did he know what she had done anyway?

"No, John, I don't. Why would I?"

Ah, of course. He had been wondering about that a little while ago, actually.
Earlier, when he had been so close on her heels that if she had turned around
and really paid attention to her surroundings instead of those nonchalant
glances she had been throwing around, she would've seen him. He had asked
himself if that was yet another thing that would never change.

John, always John.

At least something was different, because unlike usually, this time the fact
she still insisted on calling him that only amused him. This time she
said it to break his calm, contemning composure. She had always been different
from others like that, calling people by their given names. Although, naturally
with him she had only done it to annoy the fuck out of him. She didn't really
expect others to call her Rogue, either, but they normally did. Well, all but
him.

She had always been Rogue, even to him, but calling her that only made it more
real. It made her stronger.

They all felt the same though - Marie didn't fit this new powerful
mutant girl anymore than John fitted him nowadays. There was no John anymore...
but then, you aren't Rogue anymore, are you? No, she wasn't...

She tried to be, so hard. Good, he was glad. It had been too long since she had
shown any true signs of fire and he had missed it - this, the spark she didn't
even know existed somewhere beneath the fear. Oh she was scared, he could
almost smell it, but she had her dignity. She'd never let him know, not
willingly.

"Then why use such bad words?" He asked simply, arms folded and with
a smug smile still decorating his beautiful face. She had never grasped it,
never fully understood how someone so irritating, so ruthless, could look so fucking
beautiful through it all. Wasn't he supposed to change somewhere along the way,
morph into something as ugly and horrifying as he was inside? But he was still
as beautiful as he had been then. Especially now that he had gone and dyed his
hair to lighter shade, she thought, and by the looks of it, there was a boy who
could carry his leather... Fine, so what, she could admit it; he looked
gorgeous. Big deal. As if that meant anything.

It didn't!

"I've got sand in my shoe," she managed to answer after a moment,
hoping her thoughts had stayed private, "it hurts." How the hell had
she been able to sound so biting, she didn't know, and didn't really care
either. The most important thing was that she had. There, she could feel a
random piece of her self-confidence returning slowly. Thank God.

Pyro's smile deepened as he watched her expression change slightly - he was
actually a little impressed by the tone she had used on him. Mmm, poison.
Man, she had actually sounded pretty damn hot there.

Rogue knew they had been friends once or at least tried to be before things got
ugly between them, but still, this was bizarre. This wasn't how it was meant to
go - he standing there, smiling - no, that' wasn't a smile, it was a smirk - at
her like that.

Boy... did she know that smirk or what? The hair on the back of her neck stood
up against her will - he was plotting something and she wasn't so sure she
wanted to find out what. Rogue had seen him use it on their fellow students one
too many times. Female students, be it said, and it never - ever -
promised anything good. It was one of those things that would never change when
it came to him, she supposed.

"Shouldn't you be out there, fighting a war?" She asked suddenly,
simply wanting to direct his attention elsewhere. Give him something else to
think about, something else to cling onto. Maybe if she started talking about
the war, he'd became frustrated and slip something she could use against him.
That, or then he'd throw a tantrum like a selfish kid he was and break her
skull. Well, one way or another, right now she had to take her chances.

But Pyro, being the irritating self as always, wasn't taking the bait that
easily, no, no. With one eyebrow raised into a question, he tilted his head and
asked the one thing she didn't want to hear: "Shouldn't you?"

There it was, something squeezing her insides again. Gods, sometimes she hated
him so much and didn't even know why but every encounter like this one reminded
her efficiently. So typical of you, so fucking typical of you to hit where it
hurts the most.

"No," she forced the word out with calm, almost indifferent voice, as
if the subject held no personal meaning to her, "Not anymore."

He snorted. "You think just 'cause you turned your back to our kinds, you
don't have to fight anymore?"

It hurt. It hurt to hear the same thing she had been thinking for the passed
few hours said out loud with a tone like that, with that kind contempt. He was
disgusted, not that he had any rights to be, but he was and even though she didn't
particularly like it, she understood.

What she couldn't understand, though, was why the hell he sounded so... so
overly disappointed?

It confused her, made her mind pause and so, she spoke out the first defense
she could think of in that sluggish state of mind.

"I-I can't-"

"That's bull," he cut off her explanation, trying to hide his genuine
irritation and knowing exactly what she was going to say. He knew her, he knew
the way her mind worked, the way she saw things... her soul. Why the fuck didn't
she see that? Didn't feel it like he did?

"I don't..." That was when she finally apprehended the true meaning
of the words she was about to say, understood what it all meant. She had no way
to defend herself... no longer did she have the upper-hand and they were both
aware of it.

"What, have your powers?" He galled, taking pleasure out of the way
her facial expression slowly faltered into insecure, "Took you this long
to realise where you are.. with whom you are?"

She was starting to panic inside, but even in the middle of such state, her
only working thought was to keep it hidden from him. Animals always smell the
fear, Rogue. Do not let him see... In spite of herself, she couldn't stop her
body from trembling ever so slightly. To keep her composure, she lifted her
chin and raised her arms to her chest, folding them neatly. Just breathe in and
out, normally. She could do this. She had handled him before, there was no
reason she couldn't do it again... well, no, there was a reason, but not
thinking about it made the situation seem a little bit easier.

Like she had a chance.

All of it was for vain, of course. Pyro could've had his eyes closed and still,
so easily, he would've known what she was thinking, feel the air tremble every
time she did. She could hide so much from him if she tried, so much, but this.

"I could kill you," he pointed out joyfully, smiling brightly as if
it had been christmas - well, at least a stranger would've thought so when
seeing him, but she could clearly see the bitterness behind his sparkling eyes,
hear it in his smooth voice. From where did it derive, that bitterness she had
come to known as cardinal feature of his?

"Yes," she admitted, eyes staring straight into his, secretly wishing
the John she had once known and cared about, was still somewhere there,
"you could."

He laughed, pleased by the fact she still had it in her, the fire, to put up a
decent fight even when it was clear she wouldn't be able to win with him, not
this time. Oh yeah, no doubt she'd fight him with all her might, teeth and
nails... at least he hoped she would. For one, it would make things more
interesting... and well, at least the others wouldn't have a reason to question
him about the failed mission. They wouldn't bother to think he let those people
live because he felt something... something he shouldn't have felt for a girl
on the opposite team, for her.

He'd show them all, he'd show them what they had, he and Rogue, he'd show it
wasn't anything beautiful. Not through her eyes, anyway.

"Well, anyway," he continued with a whole new different tone in his
voice, which made her frown (why the fuck did he sound like they'd been friends
for years, huh?), "I'm not planning to. But you are coming with me."

The relif she had almost let take over hearing the changeover in his voice, was
gone with that simple claim, with those simple words.

"The hell I am," she spat matter-of-factly, already about to take a
step back without realising it, when her unnoticed movement was suddenly
interrupted. He had stepped closer and grabbed her forfecully, wrapped his warm
fingers around his forearm to keep her still. And to show her who was in
charge, naturally.

"You don't really have a say on this, Marie," he spoke, leaning
closer, bending close enough, down enough, to talk to her ear. She shivered,
drawing in a sharp mouthful of air as his warm breath stroked the side of her
face.

"You're coming with me and that's that... I mean..." He paused there
and chuckled, disdaining, just to tantalize her one step further if possible...
not that it was really needed anymore, because it wasn't.

"Do you really think they will take you back now, huh? No, you're
nothing to them now."

How, how did he always know exactly what to say, how to cut just a
little bit deeper? She wanted to speak, tell him he was wrong. Mistaken. That
they'd never slam the door shut in front of her face, not when she needed their
support the most. They care about me, they care about me... but not a word met
the air. Instead, she kept opening and closing her mouth in shock, like a fish
out of water, gulping. Just trying to breathe. In and out... come on, breathe.

"Yeah," Pyro prompted, pulling her to him and placing a firm, but
caressing hand on her back without so much as a word of resistance coming from
her end, "thought so, too. Well, I can't leave you here alone, now can
I?"

TBC.

--- Anyways. I'll probably edit this bit before I move onto the second part,
but just figured I might as well post this one now. It's been kind of a
therapeutic experience to write this one, I dunno, might be cause of the
unnatural flow of the sentences. Whatever.
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... can you save me from myself?