/-New York, 1985-/

"Are you nervous? You look nervous."

"I'm not nervous, Wade."

"Really, because you look-"

"Wade." Stryker cut in, "if she says she's not nervous, then she's not nervous."

A smirk sprung to the mercenary's lips, "I'm just trying to help the little lady in her hour of need, boss."

"And I'm sure she appreciates your efforts-" Amy shot the older man a look that implied she felt the exact opposite of that statement, but he dismissed it with a small smile. "but I'm sure she and Zero would like the concentrate on the task at hand."

The mentioned pair glanced at each other. The task at hand this time being to play nice while Stryker chatted up some government stiffs.

"Your right," Wade's smirk widened, "besides, maybe I'm just gauging her expression wrong. Kinda hard to tell what it is under all that gunk." He gestured towards her made up face.

She didn't take the bait. She never took the bait. Instead, she smiled demurely. "Don't be jealous, Wade."

His face flushed slightly as Zero stifled a chuckle. "I'm not jealous, Allerdyce."

"Yes you are." She told him, and he was. Not that he didn't hate himself for it.

-/New York, 2002/-

John shuffled awkwardly outside the professor's door.

"Don't be nervous," Bobby told him.

The other boy rolled his eyes, "I'm not nervous."

"Then why haven't you opened the door?"

"F-"

"John?" Xavier called, "You can come in now."

The fire starter glared at his smirking friend before opening the door. He clicked his lighter rhythmically as he looked around the office. The Professor eyed him with patience. "Something you wanted, son?"

It snapped closed in his slightly shaking hand. John kept his back to the old man as he spoke. "I want to know about my parents."

"What about them?"

"How about who they are?"

The Professor sighed, "I've told you before John, when you're older perhaps-"

"I'm fourteen! I think I'm old enough to wrap my head around whatever they did that make them some kind of-"

"John."

The teen quieted instantly. The Professor stared at him. John Allerdyce had never been the most stable of his students. But he was considerably more stable then his mother had been at his age. She had been…well, calling her a difficult case would be putting it lightly. Amy hadn't had the emotional troubles –or rather, not the same types of emotional troubles- as her son did. Didn't have the angst perhaps, but she had the same self loathing. John had it for his so called lack of mutation, Amy had it for the extremity of the same thing.

The Professor agreed, "you're right, you are old enough. But not for the whole story."

"But-"

"But," The elderly man went on, clasping his hands together, "I'll let you ask one question."

Annoyance flickered in Pyro's eyes, "just one?"

"Just one. But, I suppose on top of that, it's time I give you their names." Xavier wheeled over to a filing cabinet. Opening it with an ease that irked the younger man, he slowly shifted around until he found what ever it was he was looking for. "Ah," He pulled a very thin file out, "here it is." He passed it to John, who quickly flipped it open. "Your mother, Amy Allerdyce."

Pyro's eyes widened slightly at the newspaper clippings inside, each proclaiming some kind of hell fire had been raining down in a small town in Kansas. A small girl, maybe eleven, maybe a little younger, was featured in most of them; the black and white of the camera hinting to her pale skin and dark hair. Sad eyes looked gloomily back and him and he swallowed.

He had her eyes. Those eyes flickered back to the Professor who was watching him with interest, "she was a student here?"

"Briefly," He sighed, wheeling back to his desk. "I always thought she had such potential."

"Why?" John flipped over to the medical files, glancing down at her 'abilities' he read aloud: "The subject displays class pyrokinetic abilities with a lack of control that boarder lines obdurate. It is unknown whether or not this is of her own will. This combined with her anti-social behavior, it is recommended the subject should be isolated at all times."

The Professor leaned back in his chair, "that was one suggestion we didn't follow."

"She was a fire starter?"

A smirk rose on Xavier's lips, "she didn't like that term."

"Why didn't you tell me?" John asked, "Who wanted to keep her isolated?"

"The psychiatric facility she had been enrolled in when we found her." The Professor told him that was his one question before continuing, "your father's name was Wade Wilson."

"Don't I get his file?"

"He doesn't have a file. Well, not a school file."

Pyro tilted his head, "what kind of file does he have?"

"Military."

/-Three Mile Island, Military Base, 1985-/

"How was your date?"

Amy rolled her eyes, unclasping the necklace that was roped around her throat. "The banquet was fine."

"Have fun?" Wade sauntered up behind her, undoing the back of her dress for her, "Zero get lucky?"

"Not tonight," She smiled as he kissed the back of her neck gently, "how was your night?"

"Oh, you know, killed some people, ordered a pizza, same old same old." The mercenary slid his hand inside her dress.

The woman shuddered, but pulled away regardless. "I'm gonna go wash this gunk off." Sliding the dress from her hips, she left it in a pile on the floor.

"You're just gonna leave me hangin'?" The man called. A soft laugh was heard and he promptly chased her in to the bathroom.

A/N: Whenever the dates are split, and in the same chapter, it's implied that they are in conjunction. This is just a test on whether or not people will respond to it, and is completely AU. Don't get mad at me.