Rogue turned her watery eyes away from her mom over to him. “I tried,” she admitted, “the cure didn’t work.” It had only been a temporary solution rather than the permanent fix they had said it would be. “I’m so sorry.” Whether that was aimed at him, her mother, or Logan and Laura she couldn’t say.
She made a small sound of protest when she felt him stick her with another needle and her eyes fluttered open to glance at him, brows furrowed. “Help,” she said, her words coming out a little slurred and confused. Her gaze stayed on him but her eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before regaining focus and her face suddenly hardened with disdain.
“Help with what, asshole,” he instinctively snapped.
John blinked, more than a little confused, he hadn’t meant to take control of Rogue but he’d felt something was up and his fucking curiosity got the better of him. He was lucid for a second there but then the hallucinogen hit him like a god damn mac truck. He grimaced when he took a better look at the fucked up mask staring right at him and pulled against the restraints holding him down trying to get away from the damn thing.
“If you don’t fucking untie me,” he threatened through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna burn this place to the-”
Not if you don’t have your lighter, John.
His head snapped straightforward and his eyes widened then narrowed. His dad was standing right in front of him but he wasn’t alone, oh no, standing right behind him was an angry mob of humans.
His dad made a small tsking sound and held up his favored metal lighter with a smug grin. Son of a bitch. I’ll give you that you’re one scary freak when you have this in your hand but without it, you’re just like the rest of us.
“Fuck you,” he spat, feeling his blood boil at being compared to a human, “I’m better, special. When will you get through your head, old man? I’m not a weak, pathetic, human like you.”
The grin on his father’s face faded and was replaced by a far nastier look. I get that, John, but you’re forgetting one thing. We’re not the ones tied down.
His jaw tightened in frustration and hatred. “If you think I give a shit-” he cut himself off with a yell of agonized pain when his dad and the others surrounded him. He was taking in gasping breaths as he looked down, his face contorting with surprise and fear when he saw the handle of a knife sticking out from between his ribs.