Fic: It Is Real
E-mail:violet147@yahoo.com
Rating: R.
Warnings: This is super, super omega sad. BIG FAT SADNESS WARNING. As in it doesn't end happily. In fact, some don't even end up living.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Pairing: Bobby/John.
Summary: The pain in their hearts, it is real.


It all feels like a dream, one extremely fucked up, surreal dream. As Bobby lays on the ground, he closes his eyes and wills himself to wake up. This is not happening. This is a dream. Wake up, Bobby. This isn’t real. Wake up.

John’s screams wake him from his thoughts and Bobby looks at him, like a scared little boy looks at his father. John falls to his knees and crawls over to him, but stops. He reaches his hand out, but he pulls away before he touches Bobby. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” he ends up yelling.

“John, calm down,” Bobby tries to tell him soothingly.

“Calm down? Look at this! Look at what I’ve done!” John screams. When Bobby turns away, John reaches over and grabs his face, forcing him to look down at the body wedged between them. “Do you see this?! Do you?! She’s dead, Bobby, she’s dead!”

Mystique’s eyes are open, dead and wide, and Bobby has to turn his head away. But John forces him to look again, and he lets out a small cry of pain. “John, stop, please,” he begs softly, whimpering.

John lets go of his face and scoots back, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” He looks back over at Mystique but instantly looks away, covering his face with his hands and rocking back and forth. “Oh fuck. Fuck.”

Bobby scoots around Mystique, mouth hanging open like a dead fish, and reaches John, putting his hands on his shoulders. “John, come on. John. We’ve got to move. John,” he has to shake John’s shoulders. “John! Come on. We’ve got to go.”

John lets Bobby pull him up to his feet and they start running, Bobby a little slower due to his ankle, which has swollen past the width of his boot by now. John ends up putting an arm around his waist to help him along, and it’s still surreal, still feels like a dream. Bobby keeps waiting to wake up. Surely this isn’t happening. Surely this isn’t real.

After running for a few minutes, they spot an alley and slip inside, running for a few moments, then stop, John against the wall, Bobby facing him. “Where’s Magneto?” Bobby asks.

“Don’t know,” John answers. His face twists up, and he looks as if he’s in pain. “If he finds me, I’m-“

“Don’t,” Bobby orders. He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He looks around, trying to think, trying to find a way out, but they have run themselves into a pit with no way out. “When do you think he’ll find her?”

“He already has. They’re like this,” John answers, and he crosses his fingers together. He takes a deep breath and again runs his fingers through his fingers. “God, if he finds me-“

“Stop it. We’ve got to figure out how-“

“To get out?” John laughs, dry and merciless. “We’re not getting out. We’re dead, Bobby, we’re already dead.”

“Don’t say that!” Bobby screams. He reaches up and cradles John’s neck, almost near tears. “What the fuck were you doing, John? How could you…goddamn it, how could you kill her?!” he asks.

John doesn’t answer. He looks at Bobby, really looks at him for the first and last time. He stares into Bobby’s ice blue eyes, savoring the coldness of his skin, and John has to close his eyes. He wants to remember this moment for as long as he can, wants to take it with him wherever he ends up. “You,” he ends up murmuring.

His voice is low Bobby’s not sure he even heard it. “What?” he asks.

“You. It was for you. She…she was going…” John opens his eyes, and they’re wet with unshed tears. “She was going to kill you,” he whispers.

Bobby blinks as the words sink in, as it bleeds into his heart. John had SAVED him. John had KILLED for him. Only him. He leans over and presses his forehead against John’s, holding him like the lover both know he should have always been. “John-“

“There’s no way,” John says. His breath is hot against Bobby’s face. “We can’t get away. We’re not getting out. And I’m sorry, Bobby, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Ssh,” Bobby almost coos, caressing the side of John’s face. They’re quiet for a moment as Bobby closes his eyes, trying to relish the softness of John’s skin, the hum of his heart against Bobby’s chest. He wants to remember this moment for as long as he can, wants to take it with him wherever he ends up. “It’s okay, Johnny. It’s okay,” he whispers.

“There’s only one way,” John suddenly says, causing Bobby to open his eyes. “There’s only one way out of this.” John reaches down, and from his boot he pulls out a knife, not long, but just gleaming enough to remind Bobby of one of Logan’s claws. “Please, Bobby,” he says, holding the knife out to him.

Bobby stares at it in shock, and shakes his head. There’s no way John could be asking this of him. There’s no way. “Johnny-“

“It’s the only way, Bobby,” John insists. Tears spill down his cheeks, and he tries to hand the knife to Bobby, but he won’t take it. “Please, Bobby, you have to do this, it’s the only way,” he begs.

Bobby turns his head away, and as he does, he hears voices further away. His heart almost stops as he recognizes Magneto’s voice, and hears the angry pitch to it. He turns back and looks at John, who is almost frozen at the sound of Magneto’s voice. “Please, Bobby,” he whispers.

“No. I can’t. You can’t…you can’t ask that of me, John,” Bobby tells him. He leans forward, and looking straight into John’s eyes, he says, “We’re going to get out of here. The two of us. Together we can take him.”

John just smiles, and it looks almost serene. “Still the eternal optimist,” he quips, reaching up and tangling his hands in Bobby’s hair. “You don’t know. The only loyalty he had was murdered, and he’s not like Xavier. He enjoys vengeance.” He leans toward Bobby, and their lips are hovering right to each other, so close Bobby swears he can actually SEE John’s breath. “It’s the only way to escape him,” he says, taking the knife and plunging it into his chest.

Bobby’s the one who ends up crying out, as John’s mouth opens and his eyes widen to unnatural proportions. His hand slips off the handle and sit on Bobby’s shoulders as Bobby wraps his arms around John’s waist. The tears are coming full-force from Bobby’s eyes, as they dart all over John’s face, trying to worship him one last time. Bobby can feel John’s legs giving out, and he guides John down to the ground, his arms never leaving his waist.

“You stupid fuck. You stupid, stupid fuck,” Bobby ends up crying, petting John’s hair as John’s skin starts to turn white. He doesn’t bother trying to wipe the tears away, as he clings to John’s body for all it’s worth. Why hasn’t he woke up yet? Why is he still dreaming? “You’re so stupid, John, you’re so fucking stupid.”

“I know.” John’s eyes sweep over Bobby’s face, trying to worship him one final time. This isn’t real, God, there’s no way this can be real. “I never did anything right, did I?” he asks. Bobby shakes his head, his hands on the sides of John’s face. “Don’t say that. That’s not true,” he whispers.

John takes Bobby’s hand and presses it against his heart. Bobby doesn’t even notice the stickiness of the blood; all he cares about is that it is John’s. John opens his mouth, catches on a few syllables, tears streaming down his face. “Do you feel this?” he’s finally able to ask.

“Yes,” Bobby answers, his voice choked.

John smiles, closing his eyes for a moment as his hand wraps itself around Bobby’s wrist. “For you, Bobby. It was always for you, only you. And it was always real,” he confesses. His voice is barely above a whisper now.

Bobby lets out a choked sob, and leans in to kiss John for the first and final time. John’s lips taste so sweet and sour, a mixture of cherries and nicotine, and Bobby tries to memorize the taste, tries to take the texture of John’s lips into himself, but it is only for a moment that Bobby can feel John kissing back. But moments are fleeting, as are people, and John’s lips are suddenly no longer pressing against his, and slowly they go slack, falling away.

When Bobby opens his eyes all he’s able to see is the ghost-like tone of John’s skin, and the darkness of his blood starting to cake all over his uniform. Bobby is crying so hard John’s almost starting to fade away, and furiously he wipes at his eyes. He’s not ready to let John go just yet, not when they had finally found each other.

So when he curls up beside John, he is crying, but it is not longer hysterical crying. It is soft and will be fleeting, just like moments and people. He reaches up and brushes a piece of John’s hair out of his closed eyes, and lets his touch linger on John’s flesh for a moment. “Fuck you for making this the only way,” he tells John, imaging in his mind that John can hear him.

And Bobby actually believes this, that this was the only way for them, as he reaches over and pulls the knife out of John’s chest. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, and forces himself to not think about it, forces himself to just press the knife into his flesh. And as he does, all he can think is that it burns, knife cutting into your flesh, it burns just like John used to.

His hand lets go of the handle and he puts his arm across John’s lap, snuggling in closer. He tries to keep his eyes open as long as he can, wanting to remember them like this, together and one, wants to be able to take it with him as he follows John wherever it is they’re going.

When Bobby closes his eyes, he knows he’s not going to wake up. But that’s fine, he thinks to himself. If that’s the way it has to be, then Bobby will do it. Slowly he reaches up and places his hand over John’s heart, sighing contently to himself. For you, he hears John telling him, this is all for you.

“No,” Bobby says aloud, smiling serenely. That’s not it at all.

It is for them. And it is real.


As I cry for you
Yes, I'll die for you
The pain in my heart, it is real
And I'll take everything
As it comes my way
Feel in my heart, it's for you
And I'll lie for you as I die for you
The pain in my heart, it is real
And I'll tell you now
How I feel inside
Fuck you
It's for you.


-You, Candlebox


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