And I Burn

A/N: I haven't written for years! Total exaggeration but it has been a while. So I plan for this fic to be the remedy to get me back into things. It actually wasn't that hard to write, so I was happily surprised when my fingers kind of automatically produced this! BUT...I could totally use the CC though so if you have any to give, I WILL TAKE IT!

Just to let you know, I have fallen madly in love with the Pyro/Kitty pairing and I need a vent for my self-pity. So I give you a warning! If you and drama do not mix that means you may be in the wrong place. But if you do, relax and enjoy! Oh, and review. Because I love reviews and all reviewers and I'd love to know what you think!

It follows movie-verse near the end of X3 and is rated for mild language!

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. Obviously, because I would be proclaiming it to the world if I did.

Chapter One

He wasn't sure why he did it. He didn't even have a clue why he'd want to go back. After several months of freedom it seemed to go against all his reasoning. But either way, he was sitting in the corner of the jet, a jet that was speedily making its way back to Xavier's Institute. And all he seemed to be able to do was stare at the floor in front of him, his eyes blank and his arms crossed over his numb body.

Pyro clenched his jaw hard as the reality of his actions slowly caught up with him. He was there on his way back to a place where he knew he still wouldn't be able to reach his full potential. They would just hold him back like they did the months before he joined the Brotherhood. At least Magneto had given him that much. He was treated as an adult by them and was never told to control his anger and manage his powers. Magneto had even prompted him to use his abilities to their fullness and feed off of his hate for the Homo sapiens. But above everything else, there he had been Pyro.

Not John Allerdyce. Just Pyro.

But now things wouldn't be the same. The Brotherhood was gone and the war was ended.

Uhhhhhhhhh!

Pyro let out a long groan and let his body slump forward so that his head was between his knees. He shut his eyes tightly against stinging tears and wrapped his arms over his head.

So many thoughts were going through his brain he wanted to scream. Part of him wished he could go back to a stable life but the other part was beginning to shout at him that he was being a coward. He opened his eyes suddenly and frantically searched the ground in front of him as if it somehow had the answers.

What was he doing? How could he just go back? But how could he not when his only other option was to die on that forsaken island with the rest of the scum?

"Fuck!" Pyro muttered to himself, as he sat up again and leant his head against the metal seat behind him. By now he was probably getting several stares from the others in the jet. But what did he care?

He looked across the jet with a heated glare, eyes flicking from person to person. Four others were sitting close to him, their bodies slumped in their seats and obviously exhausted. Pyro's gaze was quickly pulled to the weary face of Bobby Drake. He was leaning back with his arms loosely wrapped around himself. Pyro had been "best friends" with him once but he wasn't sure if they ever really were friends. Especially after having left to join the Brotherhood and then fighting the X-Men at Alcatraz, Pyro and Bobby seemed to be nothing but enemies now. Suddenly Bobby's eyes caught his and peered at him accusingly. But the look was gone just as fast as it had come and Bobby returned his gaze to the spot he had been staring at before.

Pyro gave a quiet humourless laugh and smirked slightly at himself.

I guess things haven't changed that much, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest in a defiant way. It just had to be Bobby that gave him that convicting look when he did something questionable. He looked at him as if he was always wrong. And the one thing that pained Pyro, was that Bobby was the closest thing to a brother he had ever had. However, as soon as that idea came to his train of thought, his brow knit in exasperation. He definitely didn't want to mull over that on top of everything else.

Pyro looked at the others in the jet. Up near the front Storm, Wolverine, and that huge blue hairy guy sat discussing something in hushed tones. They were probably talking about him but he didn't give a rat's ass. The worse thing they could do was to shove him back on the streets and there he could fend for himself. He scoffed at them and turned his attention elsewhere.

The only other people there were Peter Rasputin, the boy he assumed had been used for the cure, and Kitty Pryde.

Kitty Pryde.

Pyro's wandering gaze stopped on her rigid features and he awkwardly moved to sit up in his seat. Her head was bowed down and loose hairs were falling onto her flushed cheeks. Her lips were deep red from the exertion and although she looked faint her body remained stiff. Despite the obvious strain in her face there was a welcoming softness in it. He would even go as far as to call her pretty. His eyes started to travel down her body and he noticed her very slim waist. The X-Suit she was wearing seemed to hug her in all the right places but it probably didn't do her enough justice.

Kitty suddenly moved unnervingly as if she knew he was looking at her. But not once did she turn her head towards him. It was like she was putting all of her energy into avoiding doing that exact thing. Pyro frowned and found that it only made him want her to look at him even more so that he could look into her eyes and just get lost in them…

Whoa!

His cheeks suddenly began to burn as he realized what he was thinking. Kitty? No way. He didn't remember ever looking at her like that before or even thinking about her for that matter. What was this?

Pyro turned away awkwardly so that they wouldn't see the strange look of shock on his face. He needed to distract himself and get move his thoughts in another direction. He looked down at him hands and then at the smashed igniter that was wrapped around the palm of his right hand. He straightened his fingers and brought the device up closer so he could look at it properly. Everything but the metal straps was shattered. It must have been damaged sometime during the fight.

Great, Pyro thought, frowning even deeper. He rolled up his sleeve and undid the clasp that held it to his arm. He let it slid off and placed it on the seat beside him. He sighed and reached into his pocket, his hand closing around the familiar metal of his Zippo lighter. He pulled it out and then flicked the cap off and on.

Off and on. Off and on.

He sunk back into his seat, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander. He needed sleep. And badly.

--)(--

Pyro wasn't sure how much time had passed. It could have been an hour or even just a couple of minutes. But he knew when he woke up with a start that the jet had landed.

He opened his bleary eyes and could vaguely see the ramp descend from the middle of the floor. He stretched his arms wide over his head and took in a big gulp of air as the others got up and walked out of the jet. He waited until they were gone before getting up himself, following them into the underground. He stayed back from the others with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and a nondescript expression of his face.

They reached the elevator up to the mansion before him. It was only likely that they wouldn't wait for him. And he was right. The door closed and left him staring at its metal panels. He smirked as he lazily pushed the button so that it would come back.

Storm, Wolverine, and the other mutant followed down the ramp and caught up with him. Even they looked worn out, though they were doing a much better job at hiding it. Pyro was surprised they weren't already reprimanding him but he could tell by the looks on their faces that they were in no mood to discuss anything with him.

"You'll have to wait a couple days before we decide whether or not you can stay," Storm said to him, her voice quiet but very commanding. He looked up at her and gave a small nod. "I'll show you a spare bedroom for now, seeing as I'm sure neither you nor Mr. Drake are quite inclined to be roommates again." He gave a hollow laugh and looked down at his feet.

'Thanks," Pyro muttered as the elevator doors opened.

Stepping out into the mansion seemed kind of surreal to him. It was so damned complicated but somehow it felt like nothing had happened at all. He numbly followed Storm through the familiar halls almost as if he wasn't really there. But everything had changed. Everything. Not one thing would be the same and he knew it.

Storm stopped at one of the doors and eased it open for him. He recognized it as one of the quest bedrooms. His old one had been just down the hall in the guys' section.

"You can sleep here for the time being," she said flatly, moving to stand beside the doorframe. Pyro stepped into the room, flicked on the light, and let his eyes brush over its standard contents. "We'll talk later about long-term arrangements." She paused. "You look like you could use some sleep." He nodded as she raised her eyebrows at him and walked out of the room, closing the door shut.

Pyro let out a long breath as he threw his jacket and sweater onto a chair in the corner. He pulled his boots off and his jeans quickly followed, revealing blue boxer shorts. He walked over to the closet door where a long mirror hung and looked at his reflection. The last time he had been at Xavier's was a couple months ago and appearance-wise he didn't look too much different. The most obvious change was his hair, which was now streaked with blond and cut a lot shorter. He ran his fingers through it making its messy quills stand up even more. Pyro thought it suited him and it definitely made his eyes stand out.

But he was different in more than just looks. Joining the Brotherhood had given him the chance to really be Pyro and he had grown under their guidance. And that was the problem. He had changed so much so could he go back to being contained and controlled?

Pyro flung himself down on the bed feeling the anger cause his stomach to tighten. He clenched his jaw and he stared furiously at the white ceiling above him. His emotions were so fucking mixed up that he couldn't stand it. He hated this place because he knew it meant restraint. It meant living by the rules and being under control. Pyro didn't want that. He wanted freedom. From everything.

He rolled onto his side and punched one of the pillows on the bed, letting out an angry moan. But soon he began to feel the weariness of his body and his eyes suddenly became very heave. He sunk into the softness of the bed and pulled the bed cover over himself. Sleep took him very fast.