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FIC: Friendship's Sacrifice (Rogue/Pyro)

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    Here s a story I wrote. Hope you Enjoy. Title: Friendship’s Sacrifice By: X x0832001@yahoo.com Rated: PG Disclaimer: I own nothing; I am getting no money,
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 18, 2003
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      Here's a story I wrote.
      Hope you Enjoy.

      Title: Friendship�s Sacrifice
      By: X
      x0832001@...
      Rated: PG
      Disclaimer: I own nothing; I am getting no money,
      see-no reason to sue/

      Summary: Marie cleans John�s belongings out of his
      room, and finds something she didn�t expect.

      Marie was cleaning out John�s side of the bedroom he�d
      formerly shared with Bobby. It had been nearly a
      month and Bobby hadn�t moved one single object. The
      bed was still unmade; a Metallica CD still perched on
      the little table beside his bed, and the most amazing
      of all, on the floor by the foot of the bed, a Physics
      book lay open with a pencil and a sheet of loose leaf
      containing equations, figures, and other elements of a
      partially completed homework assignment. It was a
      shrine to the departed pyrokinetic.

      That morning at breakfast, after all but Marie and
      Bobby had cleared out; the professor had decreed that
      the room should be cleared so another student could
      take the bed. Marie had assumed the nudge would make
      Bobby suck up the feelings of betrayal, sadness, and
      loss and he would clear out the stuff. But instead as
      soon as the professor left the kitchen Bobby had
      turned to her and begged her to do it for him.
      �He was my best friend Rogue, I can�t just clear out
      all his stuff like he�s dead.�
      �Bobby, he left us. It�s OK to throw out his old
      magazines and match books.� Bobby sighed.
      �I know it�s stupid� Bobby explained, rolling his
      eyes at himself.
      Rogue smiled. �It�s Ok, you guys were friends. He
      was my friend too. I�ll take care of it.�
      �Thanks so much Marie.� He paused, mulling over an
      idea he�d had. �One thing, can we can give the
      T-shirts and stuff to that thrift store in town? It
      kinda seems right since he brought them there.�
      �Now who�s acting like he�s dead?� she giggled.
      �Sure, I�ll pack them up and someone can drop them
      off.�
      �You�re the best Marie�

      So that�s why Marie was alone in the boys� room,
      cardboard box at her feet, folding up a wardrobe that
      was 90% T-shirts and jeans dropping them in the box.
      She picked up the last one, folded it and dropped it
      in the box. Smiling to herself she stood up and
      surveyed the now empty closet. It was a job well
      done. Marie was about to head over to the drawers and
      empty them when she noticed something in the back on
      the top shelf. It was little and white and pushed so
      far back she had to stand on tip toes and streach to
      recover it. Examining the article in her she found it
      was a written on folded up piece of paper.

      The hand writing was clearly John�s. Rogue would
      recognize it anywhere. Bobby had chicken scratch that
      resembled Chinese characters but John had neat
      straight penmanship. What the writing said made her
      sink to her knees. John had let Bobby have her. The
      creased piece of paper in her hands was a love letter,
      dated just a few days after the Liberty Island
      incident. She�d always thought John was hot, a
      terrible pun considering who Pyro was. Bobby was
      attractive, there was no denying that, handsome in
      that adorable, clean cut kind of way. But John was
      rougher, had a bad boy rebellious way about him and
      was striking with his scruffiness. Marie couldn�t
      help but notice; she had been notoriously attracted to
      the dangerous. Just consider the little crush she�d
      had on Logan, the ultimate bad boy.

      But, aside from the fire ball that first day, and the
      usual flirting John hadn�t shown signs that he wanted
      her. He never asked her out. She�d wanted him to,
      flirted back to the best of her ability, but he hadn�t
      taken her up on her proposals. Of course she hadn�t
      blamed him; she was the untouchable after all. It
      wasn�t too long after Liberty Island that Bobby had
      asked her out. Figuring he was cute and interested
      she�d agreed, put out the torch she�d been carrying
      for his best friend and they went to a movie. After
      she took up with Bobby John was a flirty third wheel,
      he made jokes, but it was never serious. They were
      just having fun. Now she held a letter that said
      otherwise.

      She said John let Bobby have her because if he had
      given her this note when he wrote it she would have
      been putty in his hands. Heck, if he was here right
      now she�d be putty. It was beautiful. The way he
      described things, the feelings he was able to bring up
      in Marie with only his words, it was amazing.

      Dear Marie,
      I am cursing my own weakness because my hand refuses
      to stop it�s trembling as I write this. When it comes
      to feelings, particularly the rainbow of those evoked
      by you, my spoken words always fail me. That is why I
      must write this down. My fear of your rejection is
      why I must cower behind this paper and pen. But, I
      will use this slim blue Paper mate as my weapon, my
      saber to slice through the insecurities that surround
      and press against me as I try to express how you make
      me feel.

      I haven�t much experience with happiness and love.
      They�re luxuries I haven�t been granted often. But
      you supply happiness in excess. What I feel right now
      when I look at you may be love, I wonder if it is.
      It seems far to clich� to say I have loved you from
      first sight. It seems to cheapen the wonder and
      uniqueness of what I feel.

      You are an utterly amazing individual Marie,
      completely beautiful. The grace with which you move
      enthralls me. Your velvety brown eyes hold a fire
      that I know I will never be able to control. There is
      the flawless perfection of that creamy white skin that
      so frustrates you and fills you with fear and pain.
      To see that ache in you causes one within me.

      I remain awed by your strength Marie, it is your most
      amazing characteristic and it draws me to you more
      than your magnetic smile, your beautiful face or any
      of your other enchanting features. Your mutation acts
      as a heavy burden but you shoulder it. You were able
      to make your way on your own, a trial I know myself.
      All the obstacles you face, you refuse to let beat
      you. Your soft kindness reveals you have not been
      defeated by the hardships, that you are strong enough
      to make them a part of you.

      Marie, I want you; just as you are. You make me feel
      special; I really didn�t think it was possible for
      that to happen. But, as my trembling hand finishes
      this letter I am forced to ask for a response. I am
      forced to ask if you could ever feel for me what I
      feel for you. While I know your rejection will rip my
      heart from my chest, I�ve known pain before. I don�t
      want your piety; I want you to be true to yourself
      because your true self is what I revere.

      John

      Rogue just sat in the empty closet, looking at the
      paper in his hands. She knew why he hadn�t given her
      the letter. He hadn�t wanted to hurt Bobby. They�d
      been friends since Bobby had arrived at the school.
      Rogue took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It
      must have been horrible for him to see her with Bobby.
      She got to her feet, head spinning with the new
      information. It colored all she thought she knew
      about John Allerdyce.

      She thought about all the time they�d spent together
      as she emptied out his drawers. She barely looked at
      what she was pulling out of the drawer and dropping in
      the box. When she was done the box and the clothes
      box contained all evidence that John Allerdyce ever
      had been at Xavier�s School for Gifted Youngsters.
      �Well,� she thought as she carried the boxes out to
      the garage. �Not all evidence.� In her pocket was the
      letter written by a gifted youngster who�d made one
      serious sacrifice for friendship.


      The End


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