Fic - Ended Up Like Your Last Visit

[samecgh]

Title: Ended Up Like Your Last Visit
Fandom: X Men Movies
Rating: PG
Warnings: One swear word?
Summary: The package smelled like ash.
Author's note: More picking on Bobby and Shawn Ashmore characters.


The package smelled like ash.

Logan turned his nose up at the box he passed by and saw who it was supposed to receive it. Looks like Allerdyce is deciding to rub his face into leaving. Its intended recipient walked by, intent on walking outside. “Drake,” he called out, “Box. Possibly from Allerdyce.”

Bobby nodded, his face betraying his mood. “Thanks.” He took the package and walked it upstairs to his bedroom. His current roommates were outside, so he was alone while he checked it out. The first indicator that it wasn't from John was the letter that had been beneath. It was labeled from home.

Why would Mom and Dad send something? Not my birthday and no holidays. He opened up the letter and pulled out a thick pad of papers. Unfolding them, the first thing he saw were the words 'Mutant Freak, Burn in Hell.' That hurt. He forced his first instinct down, not wanting to act like a child again. Probably Ronnie. Still hates me. Flipping the paper over, he placed it on the desk before looking at the next ones. His parents' letter wasn't much better. He read the barely covered hate and disdain while processing what they were saying. Not allowed home? He threw their letter on the desk to find a small stack of legal papers. Bobby didn't know a lot of legal jargon. Several of the intentions went over his head, but he recognized one of the words.

Emancipation.

His parents disowned him. His parents kicked him out. They didn't want him anymore. Instead of coming up to do it in person, they sent him a box with paperwork declaring he was no longer their responsibility.

He wanted to know what was in the box. Was it his clothes? Maybe the posters or the trophies he won? He grabbed the pair of scissors and cut the tape sealing it before ripping it open. At first, it was all just black. “What?” he murmured, sticking his hand in.

It was ash. Why did they send him ash? Why... He hit something inside the pile. Grabbing a hold, he pulled out a twisted chunk of metal. He wondered what it used to be until he saw the tiny football that would have been on the end of an arm. “My trophies?”

He found more. Pieces of his other trophies, his posters. It was the last thing he found that hurt. He pulled up a half-burned photo, one of the last ones he was able to get with his grandparents and the rest of the family. The fragment dropped to the ground as he followed it.

Why would they burn my things? Why did they throw me out? Why would they do this? He had started silently crying over the discovery of the picture, but now the thoughts in his head were making it worse. Bent over, he was clutching at one of the only remaining pieces of past relatives while sobbing hard.

Caught up in himself, he didn't register someone kneeling down next to him. He did notice someone kneeling down next to him to check on him. It wasn't the attention of the other person, but Bobby buried his head in a conveniently positioned chest.

Ororo saw the stack of papers sitting on the desk and sighed when she saw what the Drakes had done. “I'll go alert the professor,” she whispered, resigned.

“Get Rogue, would ya?” Logan muttered, unsure what to do with the crying teen. She nodded and rushed out. He looked back down and hesitantly lowered his hand onto Bobby's back, rubbing slightly.

“I got it, Logan,” a voice from the door said. Rogue walked in and carefully pulled him up with help to set him on the bed. Logan walked out, frowning at the wet shirt he now sported and looked back. Bobby had now wrapped around Rogue, talking and crying into her shoulder about losing his family and John. He kept going.