Disclaimer: "Help me search to find the words That keep you up at night"

(An: Ok, I'm warning you. This is NOT a happy fic. Lots of angst, lots of swearing, all of that. And John comes off as kind of a jerk in quite a bit of this. This didn't get an angst genre, though, because the Kiotr and Romy is rather insane. This was also partially inspired by the amazing author Ariesque, because of the Remy/Rogue/John triangle. Go read her stuff. We're imagining that A) Wanda got her memory back, B) Remy and Rogue had a relationship, and C) Kitty and Lance aren't together. Changes of POV are marked with the person's name in parentheses, and flashbacks are in italics.)

(Wanda)

Most stories begin at the beginning. Except, I don't really know where the beginning is. Was it with my best friend falling in love? Or with a pact between two other best friends?

All I know is how it started for me- standing on the Acolyte's doorstep in the drizzle, my right hand curled into a fist.

Just as I'd planned, Remy LeBeau answered the door. It took him a moment to recognize me. He squinted. I supposed the black eye he was sporting was impairing his vision. "...Wanda?"

"Who else?" I replied, before punching him squarely in the jaw.

This caught him off guard and he stumbled back a few feet, massaging the offended spot. "Ow... Miss Maximoff, you have one hell of a right hook." He frowned, inspecting me. "This is 'bout Rogue, isn't it?"

"Smart boy."

Remy frowned, and then gestured for me to follow him. A little suspiciously, I followed him into a small, dim room that I assumed was the kitchen. He sat on the counter and gestured for me to do the same on the lone chair. He propped his chin on his fist and inspected me. "Have you ever, Miss Maximoff, have you ever had to choose between your best friend and someone who might be the love of your life?"

I blinked. Then I slowly shook my head, waiting for him to explain this odd question.

"I have," Remy replied.

I frowned. "How so?"

"If I tell you this, will you promise not to make any judgements? On anyone involved?"

Again, this struck me as odd, but I nodded. "All right..."

Remy leaned back, closed his eyes, and started talking.

(Remy)

You know how I met Rogue. She ran into me at the warehouse on the docks, and I nearly blew her hand off. But I don't think you know how she met John.

I'm not too sure why Rogue picked our door to come to. I think she was lost. John never told me. But from the minute John set eyes on her, he was done for.

Exactly what he did for her that night, I'm not too sure. Again, John never told me. But she went away his friend and my enemy.

When he told me about this, we both agreed that that girl was trouble with legs. We were housemates. If we both pursued the same femme, there was bound to be trouble.

So we made a promise. Neither of us would have anything to do with Rogue. Even though it made us both a little more miserable, we agreed. You don't do that in a friendship. You just don't.

(Wanda)

The story, for me, was kind of hard to fathom, but it made sense... except for the reason I was here. "So then how did you end up with Rogue?" I asked.

Remy sighed. "Remember when I said not to judge people? This is where that starts."

(Remy)

I honestly never intended to end up with Rogue. There were other girls in the world that would probably be less work to end up with, anyway. I kept telling myself this, but her eyes kept haunting my dreams. I liked her a lot, sure, but I'd been friends with John for over a year before I met her, and when you have as few friends as I do, a possible love interest means a lot less than one good person who'll listen when you talk.

I was already hers when I ran into Rogue, dripping wet, months after I kidnapped her, in the middle of Bayville Park. She'd been crying, and I knew I was doomed if I went anywhere near her. I told myself this, and yet I still walked over to her. So I guess that part was my fault.

But I blame her, totally and completely, for what happened after that night. She kissed me, not the other way around, after all.

I guess I must have seemed rather upset by this, because she apologized, claiming depression and confusion for doing that, but I told her not to. I just asked for an explanation of why her kiss didn't result in the same disastrous results as when she'd been possesed by Mesmero.

She did. And that was that. I was lost. Head over heels for that girl.

(Wanda)

"Ok," said Wanda. "So. Let me see if I've got this. You claim to be in love with a girl... and then only a week after you start going together, you dump her!"

"That how you see it, Miss Maximoff?" When I nodded, a corner of Remy's mouth went up in a sad smile. "Well, I s'pose that's how it looks. I ain't done yet, though."

(Remy)

One week.

One fucking week.

That was how long I had.

Better than nothing, but far, far less than enough.

Then John found out. Maybe if I'd just come clean and told him the story, it would've been all right... but I doubt that. I really do. John is a very... passionate person, and when he thinks he's been wronged, he gets a little crazy.

Don't give me that look. I told you not to judge him. John's a good guy. He just has a firm sense of what's right and what's wrong, and expects everyone else to follow the same credo when dealing with him. It's one of the reasons I like him, actually. He never backs down and he never goes back on his word.

Besides, seeing your best friend kissing someone you're in love with is about the most horrible feeling in the world, I'd think.

I'd warned Rogue about the whole thing. She said she didn't care. It was me she was in love with, not John, and he could go fuck himself for all she cared. Good sentiment, but she was missing the point.

And it wasn't my fault when I answered the door (with John RIGHT BEHIND ME, no less) and she just leaned forward and kissed me.

But it was enough to upset John, because I wasn't exactly protesting.

So that's why I broke it off (reluctantly, I might add) and then slammed the door in Rogue's face.

John was willing to let me explain, and he understood. He wasn't too happy about it, but he understood. Still decked me a good one, though.

Wishing to avoid a scene, I called Rogue up and asked her not to see me again. I tell myself there are some things you have to give up in friendships and plenty of merde happens when you're in love, but that doesn't make me feel any better.

(Wanda)

"So... what you're saying is it's John's fault that Rogue's currently sobbing her eyes out in her bedroom?"

Remy blinked. "Inadvertently, yes... Please don't do anything stupid, Miss Maximoff. John's really a good guy."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I demanded.

Remy chuckled. "Because, frankly, I'm afraid you'll punch me again."

I rolled my eyes at him and walked into the hallway that held the Acolyte's rooms. I walked up to each door, listening behind them. Behind two were the sounds of heavy breathing. I assumed that Jason and Victor lived behind them. A third was silent. I figured that was Remy's. From the fourth came soft, sad-sounding classical music. I guessed it was Piotr's. The fifth I knew was my father's study. So I knocked on the sixth door I came to.

As I'd expected, John leaned out of it, his hair tousled and his eyes sleepy. He frowned, squinted, and focused on me. I figured he had a hangover or something. "...The fuck are you doing here?"

"Kiss your mother with that mouth?" I returned, crossing my arms and fixing him with my worst glare.

He returned it, looking equally irascable. "My mum's dead."

"How sad for you, so's mine."

"Do you have a point in being here, or are you just out to annoy me?"

"Actually, I do." And then I punched him. A lot harder than I had Remy. Remy had the bonus of being sort-of my friend. John was, as far as I could tell from the few interactions I'd had with him, a crazy bastard.

He stumbled and almost fell. He caught himself, though, and stared me down. "You talked with Remy, huh."

"As a matter of fact," I replied, crossing my arms again, "I did."

John frowned at me, rubbing the developing bruise on his jaw. "So you've heard his side of it. And let me guess- you think you understand."

I frowned and raised an eyebrow.

John crossed his arms and leaned against the doorpost. "You don't, sheila. You just don't. To me, Remy's just another one in a string of betrayals, let-downs, and people who've given up on me."

I blinked and a little shudder went down my spine as I thought of Pietro and my father. "But... I do understand."

John frowned himself and studied me. "Maybe you do. Still doesn't mean you have the right to deck me."

"It's a free country," I replied.

He shook his head. "Not here, it isn't."

"Why do you work for my father if you're obviously so unhappy with doing so?" I demanded.

"This is one of those things," said John, "that I could tell you. But you wouldn't understand. Not here." He touched his chest. "You wouldn't know, not like I do."

"Do you ever say anything that makes sense?"

John's response was a "See what I mean?" shrug.

I propped my hand on my hip, leaning my weight on my left foot. "So you think," I said, "that since you've been through something- whatever it is- that it gives you the right to be a jerk to everyone else?"

"You don't know me," he hissed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"So why don't you tell me? I'll probably come to the same conclusion- that you're insane."

"Takes a crazy to know a crazy, gal," he replied. And then he slammed the door in my face, disgusted.

For a minute, I just stood there. Nothing else he could have said would have affected me like that, and I could tell he'd known. "I'm not crazy," I whispered. I sat down, covering my head with my arms and shaking a little. "I'm not."

And then I started to cry.

(John)

Why in hell did I go and say that? I thought as soon as I'd closed the door. I'd been a complete bastard to a girl I'd only ran into twice- the daughter of my boss, no less. She hadn't deserved that. She was just trying to do right by her friend.

I pressed my palms against my eyes. Lately, it seemed like I flew off the handle at everyone. I had my reasons- having your best friend go back on his word is a pretty big deal for anyone- but Wanda had had a point. Just because I was upset didn't give me the right to be such a bastard.

Hearing Wanda cry is what tore it. I can't stand it when a girl cries. That's why I let Rogue in that night- she was sobbing.

I sighed, muttered a curse, and stepped out of my room.

(Wanda)

I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to notice when John sat down beside me, but it's a lot harder to miss someone putting an arm around you. I looked up, startled.

I think that's what doomed me. I found myself looking at him far more intently than I had before. I liked what I saw, far too much. He had blue eyes- more the shade of a summer night than my own icy ones. He had a sweet, somewhat sheepish smile on his face. His hair, I noted as well, wasn't really a bleached red, as I'd thought, but a funny shade of strawberry blond that only looked orange. Altogether, he looked far more like he belonged on the cover of a magazine than sitting in the hallway with me. Although he did have his arm around me, I don't think he noticed that my pulse sped up.

"I'm sorry about what I said," he murmured, his eyes meeting mine.

I wiped at my own eyes angrily, willing to do anything to not have to keep staring into those. I was scared of what I would do if I did. I barely knew him, after all! "You don't say things like that," I replied, my tone equally as angry as my actions. "You just don't."

"I know," he responded.

"How would you?"

"Do you know what firebug is slang for down under?" he asked me.

I blinked. This was a seemingly random question. "No..." I said slowly.

"Scum," he answered. "You set fires in Australia, with all that brush, that's an instant lifer- either in jail... or in the asylum. I was too young for the first."

I sucked in my breath. "They-"

He nodded, still looking at me. "Yeah. They figure if you're crazy enough to commit arson out there, you're prime material for the looney bin."

A shiver ran down my spine. I did not want to empathize with this boy. He'd hurt my best friend. For me, that was a crime worthy of death. But I did. I could tell he was telling the truth. I could see it in those eyes, those damned eyes that wouldn't let me look away for more than a second.

I said it's what doomed me.

(John)

"I am sorry, sheila," I said.

She looked happy to have something to be annoyed with me about. "It's Wanda."

"Do I look like I care?"

She sniffled and looked like she wanted to punch me again.

I held up the hand that wasn't draped on her shoulder in surrender.

(Wanda)

For the first time since he'd sat beside me, he looked away. "Do me a favor, huh?" he said. "I know you hate me, but could you please explain this all to Rogue? She deserves to know."

"You're still a bastard for what you did- making Remy choose you over Rogue."

John sighed. "You just don't get it, sheila. I wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't said anything to Remy. But we swore we wouldn't have anything to do with Rogue. And you can call me overreactive, but I do not take it lightly when someone I trust goes back on their word. It comes from that happening far, far too much in one lifetime, and not having too many people you trust."

I fiddled with a wayward strand of my hair. I sighed. "I will."

John smiled at me. It was a beautiful thing. "Thank you." He gave me a one-armed hug and then got up. "You should really go home, you know. It's gonna start raining again soon."

(There were a couple of cryptic statements in this chapter, I know, but it all gets explained. Eventually. Don't worry, you won't have that long to wait.)