John gasped. SHIT! He couldn't breathe. The weight of the creature and the fall had knocked the wind out of his lungs. It's burnt, bubbling face was snapping at his throat, and he used the last of his oxygen to keep his arms straight and strong. He couldn't move his hands well enough to ignite his lines, and he was running out of air. "Back," gasp, "the fuck," heave, "off!" John risked letting the weight of the male fall against him when he jerked his arm down toward the ground and let it fly back up, delivering a punch to the underside of its jaw. It's head jerked back and it's chest parted from his. John wasn't a Wolverine, but he'd at least punched hard enough to allow time to light a flame.
FWOOSH! It's face was burning, and the scream grew louder and more panicked with the body caught and the scraps of clothes the Darkseeker had been wearing began to shrivel and burn into the flesh. John sat up, concentrating the flame long enough to catch his breath and to make sure the thing was dead. He turned and did a 360 where he lay, making sure there were no more coming. The surrounding long range and hand-to-hand fighters were taking care of the estate.
He turned on his side and looked to Iceman, finally seeing the other man's face. He closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds when he saw blood, and knew that whatever had happened, if the guy was still alive, he wouldn't be long if he didn't get indoors. "C'mon, ya prick," John crawled closer and got to his knees, then pulled Bobby upward and into his arms. He should've tossed the bastard over his shoulder, but he scowled as he realized that he cared if something was broken or punctured. No use making it worse. He'd rather hurt Frosty with words. He got to his feet and moved for the entrance. There were still people moving around in the hall and he found the 'infirmary' to be an easy find. "Joe," was all he said when he saw the doctor. It was obvious there was a problem - the biggest sign being the bleeding Snocone in his arms.