John was awaiting execution or as close as it got to the actual event with Storm and Logan's hands on the lever, wondering when the floor would open up underneath him and he'd feel the break as he plummeted or would he be spared that mercy and instead be subjected to suffocating?

*Snap, click, snap, click*

He watched the flame as it danced within the confines of its holder, wondering if he would ever really be able to manufacture them the same way Bobby did with ice or if he'd forever be confined to finding a source.

*Snap, click, snap, click*

It was in the moments alone that John's demons ate at him, the words his father shouted at him echoed in his skull, reminding him of things he'd rather leave forgotten, dead and buried. If only his father was the same way. He breathed through the momentary surge of self hatred and tipped his head back, closing his eyes and willing himself through the familiar dark recesses of his mind.

*Snap, click, snap, click*

He ruffled at his hair and brushed a hand over the bottom of his nose, flinching a little when a sharp pain went shooting up it and instantly rampaged over his right eye and then sunk into his temple. John knew he could be in his room right now, but he wasn't sure he could cope with Bobby's concerned eyes, not wanting to snap at the other boy when he was just worried about him.

*Snap, click, snap, click*

John was sat in one of the quieter corridors, away from prying eyes, curled up on himself with just his trusty lighter for company.