Fic: How to reintegrate into society in about forty weeks (6/6)

[mayachain]

Title: How to reintegrate into society in about forty weeks (part 6/6)
Pairing: Bobby/St John
Rating: R
Summary: Twelve months ago, St John Allerdyce escaped from his prison in the Xavier Mansion's cellar. He is one happy former prisoner.
Notes: Timestamp to How to escape from prison in 210 days.
Thanks to evilsincarnate for looking it over for me!

Epilogue: One Year There's a soft flame hovering above the bed, melting away a thin sheen of ice. There's lukewarm water trickling down two blissed-out bodies. There are this day's grime, traces of semen and streaks of perspiration gently being washed off their skin. 98% - they've experimented - drips into a bucket. “That's so neat,” Bobby murmurs. “It'd take less energy to get up, you know,” St John grumbles, but he still only allows the barest of spaces to open between them, doesn't make any further attempt to move. “Mm,” Bobby agrees, or disagrees, as the mattress dries underneath him. They drowse for a few minutes, St John a heavy weight on Bobby's chest. Eventually, Bobby summons up the strength to roll them over twice until they land in about the same position on the clean side of their newish bed. “That'd definitely take less energy,” St John comments, sounding a bit more awake now, propping himself up by crossing his arms above Bobby's breastbone. “Mm,” Bobby says again, although St John is right and the tiny adrenaline surge is thwarting his attempt to go to sleep. Flashes from this morning's minute of silence start creeping into his mind, making him cringe. He blinks his eyes open to look up at St John, tries to keep the prevalent exhaustion out of his voice. “The system's flawed. Maybe we should go again?” “Ugh,” St John groans. “If you actually meant that – ” Nothing short of an attack or a cry for help from the children will make either of them move another muscle this evening. “Read for me then,” Bobby demands. “Do you see a book in reach, Iceman?” St John scoffs. “As if you need one,” Bobby counters. “And it'll put me right to sleep. Come on.” “Ignorant,” St John mutters, but allows himself to snuggle a bit closer into Bobby's only slightly cooler body. “All right,” he gruffs, and sifts through all the poems he will never be able to forget again. Neither of them have acknowledged what else happened a year ago, but he settles for the one he used to cover with the next page as soon as his eyes skimmed over it, protecting himself from the words that still managed to hook themselves into his mind. “And don't you dare say 'I'm not that old.' By Robert Browning:” Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith, “A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!” * * * This is it. The last poem is “Grow Old Along With Me” by Robert Browning. All poems used in this series were copied from either "Immortal Poems of the English Language (An Anthology Edited by Oscar Williams) or "Six Centuries of Great Poetry (edited by Robert Penn Warren and Albert Erskine).

Comments

[tyhyin.livejournal.com]

I do like the poems in this
This whole thing
Not necessarily the poems themselves, not all the time anyway but the fact that they're in it.
I am still left wondering about Logans reintegration and the general life of the people of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children but that's just cos I have a hard time letting things end.
End where they began, together in the Mansion :D

[nexusofcrisis.livejournal.com]

Wow. There are a lot of futurefics written for this community. This has always been one of my favorites. Just wish there was more of it. Beautiful to see it again.