mayachain: (x-men)
[personal profile] mayachain
Title: God Among Snowflakes
Characters: Bobby Drake
Genre: gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~460
Summary: Bobby Drake is a god among snowflakes.
Notes: This is a revised version of a ficlet I posted a few years ago. Hopefully, it makes a lot more sense now.


God Among Snowflakes


He can’t believe he finally made it.

Taking the last step off the gangway, he can’t say for sure what set this day apart from all others this morning, what has brought him here today instead of yesterday or last month or next week. Nothing but the vague realization that if he doesn’t do it before anything else gets in the way, he may be too late.

God knows I've earned a vacation.

He’s been thinking about this since Storm gave him full jet-using privileges a few weeks ago. Technically, he’s still supposed to leave more than just a cryptic note in the hangar. Right now, though, the Blackbird is not needed for any pending missions.

Now that he's here, he's scared. Nobody back home knows his destination. If he had told Rogue he was going this far north she would have insisted to be his co-pilot, so he couldn’t. For what he came here to do, there's no-one - not even Kitty and especially not John (who is still gone) - that he could have brought with him.

There is something wrong here.

They’re probably looking for him. He’ll call them and assure them he’s fine, first thing when he’s done. Perhaps they’ll even have realized he can take care of himself and deserves a little time, after everything.

The air around him is freezing. Anyone else would probably scream at the biting wind hitting skin, but to Iceman, it compares to what he once knew as a nice summer breeze on a September evening.

Briefly, he believes himself in paradise.

It would be, if he could have brought someone else along, if he didn’t have to do this alone. The sun is shining, but Bobby doesn’t want to spoil this magnificence with sunglasses, even though his eyes hurt facing the fierce light.

Except for the wind, everything is quiet.

Ice. Alone. Peace.

He thinks he could live here, for a while at least, maybe.

Recent events have pretty much obliterated the topic from the news- again - but then Hank mentioned the United Nations meeting in Copenhagen from last December.

Bobby has done research, found out the exact locations of all six current science projects and made sure there are no stray adventurers in the vicinity that might come to harm.

There is something wrong here. At peace with himself, he can feel where it’s wrong.

Empty spaces where there should be ice, water where there should be snow.

For every minute he stands squinting at the sun, the map behind his eyes grows more intricately detailed. He’s no longer nervous, because he knows what to do now. He places his feet firmly to the ground, holds out his hands in a fifty-five degree angle, tilts his head back and concentrates.




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