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FIC: Rediscoveries (Scott) G (1/1)

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  • Phoenix Fire
    **IMPT Note: I m a movie fan. I ve been referred to the comic canon on Scott s past, and it still sounds really complicated, and damn near killed my bunnies,
    Message 1 of 1 , Aug 1 3:10 AM
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      **IMPT Note: I'm a movie fan. I've been referred to the
      comic canon on Scott's past, and it still sounds really
      complicated, and damn near killed my bunnies, so I'm
      ignoring it. This fic is based on the movie and the
      novelization (which you *don't* need to read to
      understand this). I am *defying* comic canon.
      You have been warned!**

      Title: Rediscoveries (sequel to Shut Your Eyes)
      Author: Phoenix (lifefromfire@...)
      Teaser: Two months after the events of "Shut Your
      Eyes", Scott meets a man who brings hope.
      Rating: G
      Genre: Drama, I guess. Scott, no pairing.

      Distribution: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit. Feel
      free to forward to other lists, too, as long and you
      forward any feedback to me.

      Disclaimer: Trust me, if they belonged to me, Scott
      would have had much more screen time. They belong to
      Marvel (I think). I make no money.

      Notes: Sequel to "Shut Your Eyes". I got this bunny
      while writing that one. It interrupted the slash bunny I
      was writing, and it was short, so I indulged it. I hope it
      lives up to "Shut Your Eyes". Please let me know.

      Thanks/Dedication: To kaly, who sat up with me until
      insane hours of the morning betaing. Sleep? What sleep?
      Why sleep when we can have hysterical fun devising
      endorsements for raybans! One small step for Scott, one
      giant leap for rayban... Jean wouldn't thank us, but
      Logan might. <g> kaly, you are powerful, to not only
      make me see a character I like, but to make me stay up
      late writing fic for him, complaining about people who
      don't do him justice, and happily betaing for you when
      I've never betaed before! It's all your fault! <laughs>
      (See, told ya I'd respond <g>). Wait...there was supposed
      to be a fic in here? Right. Okay, back to business...

      *Rediscoveries*
      by Phoenix
      lifefromfire@...


      Scott was listening to the TV when the doorbell rang. He
      stood, barely paused to turn off the set and was carefully
      finding his way to the stairs when a familiar set of clicks
      told him the door was being unlocked and opened. He
      cursed under his breath, trying to move faster. He
      couldn't deal with this, not again, not anymore. Couldn't
      they just leave him *alone*?

      Visitors in the past two months hadn't been friendly.
      Reporters that had heard of the 'incident' at the dance
      kept showing up with invasive comments. Parents
      worried for their children watched him constantly - he
      could feel their eyes, even if he couldn't see them
      looking. The kids themselves hurled cruel words at him,
      tempting him to unleash his power on them. Instead he
      shut his eyes tighter, and hunched his shoulders against
      their verbal barbs.

      It was enough to make Scott want to hide from the
      world. He'd shut himself away from it when he closed
      his eyes, but he hadn't realized the harsher parts would
      chase after him. It wasn't *fair*. If he was going to give
      up the world, why couldn't he give up *all* of it? He did
      all he could, and that included making himself scarce
      when his parents answered the door.

      He had his foot on the first step when the dreaded words
      reached his ears. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Summers. My
      name is Charles Xavier. I was hoping I might have a
      word with your son."

      Something stopped Scott from bolting up the stairs. He
      couldn't have said what it was, but his mom must have
      felt it, too, because she didn't respond the way she had to
      everyone else. "Why?" Instead of resentful, or
      protective, she merely sounded curious. Odd...his mother
      had become his gauge on the outside world. Her simple
      question made him willing to hear the response.

      The tone of Xavier's answer was grave, but reassuring.
      "Because he's very alone right now, Mrs. Summers. He's
      been cut off from the world, or the world has abandoned
      him. He needs someone to show him the way back.
      Someone to help him see the future again."

      Maybe it was stupid, but it was that phrase 'see the
      future' that brought Scott back into the living room.
      "Mom?" he asked, a bit uncertainly, not sure she was
      still there. "It's okay. I'll talk to him."

      "If you're sure..." His mother trailed off, but a moment
      later there was the sound of the door shutting. Scott
      frowned. Why couldn't he hear footsteps? He went and
      sat on the couch, letting his visitor come to him, because
      there was nothing to tell him where Xavier was.

      And then somehow he knew where to look, knew to
      offer his hand at waist height, rather than to lift it higher.
      "Scott Summers," he introduced himself.

      His hand was taken in a firm, dry grip. "Charles Xavier.
      It's good to meet you." Scott nodded, not sure how to
      respond to that. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm
      here."

      "Not really." The words slip out before he can stop them,
      but he can't regret that they've been said, no matter how
      rude it was. "Everyone comes for the same reason. They
      heard about what I did, and they're scared. Or they're
      worried. Or they're curious, and they want a demo." The
      words come fast, his tone growing firmer with every
      sentence. "I'm sorry, but I'm not a sideshow freak. I
      don't perform on command. And you don't need to
      worry. I closed my eyes, and it stopped. I'm not going to
      open them again."

      The man that sat before Scott probably didn't deserve to
      hear that outburst. It wasn't aimed at his visitor, but at
      the world that at once rejected Scott and hounded him
      for what he'd become. Now that someone was finally
      *listening* Scott discovered the words needed to say
      what he'd been feeling.

      "Of course you are," Xavier said, sounding almost
      proud, "but not for me. You'll open your eyes because
      you can't see without them. And you're going to need to
      see."

      Scott tilted his head. "Why?"

      There was hardly a pause before he spoke, but somehow
      Scott knew the answer he got wasn't the whole story.
      "I've founded a school. It's in Westchester County, New
      York. I created it for people, for children, who need a
      sanctuary. Children with gifts, like you, and like me."

      The words rang true, but Scott found himself growing
      more and more curious about the further purpose he
      somehow knew was lurking. Sanctuary. A place of
      safety, for children. But children need guardians... The
      idea that was forming in Scott's mind was vague, but it
      fit with Xavier in a way a darker purpose would not
      have. Still, it was so hard to trust blindly...

      "Give me one reason I should believe you can do any of
      that. Give me one reason I should trust you." The words
      were phrased as a challenge, but spoken as a plea. Safety
      had become a dream in the past two months, a dream
      that grew more distant with every day his dad refused to
      speak to him. With every friend that hung up the phone
      on him. With every day he woke, his eyes taped shut
      because he didn't trust himself not to blink when he first
      woke.

      "Come outside with me, and I'll show you the reason." In
      the world of sounds that Scott's life had become, there
      was something about this man's voice that said 'trust me'.
      He reached out, and his fingers found an arm. "Hold
      onto the back of my chair, and I'll take you outside."

      This man was in a wheelchair? As soon as the thought
      surfaced, Scott felt ashamed of it. Personal strength
      wasn't necessarily reflected in physical strength. It was
      something he'd always known but never really
      understood, until now... Maybe it was true.

      They stopped on the sidewalk that bisected Scott's lawn.
      He could see it in his mind's eye, but quickly shoved the
      familiar image aside. Imagination was temptation.

      "I spoke to the doctor that examined you after your gift
      manifested," Xavier began. Scott found himself grinning
      for the first time since the prom. 'After his gift
      manifested', not 'after the incident'. "And I spoke to the
      people that were there. It took me longer than I would
      have liked, but I eventually discovered something I'd
      like you to have." Something brushed against Scott's
      hands. Sunglasses? He frowned. Was this some kind of a
      joke, after all?

      "Trust me, Scott."

      There's power in a name. It was the loss of his name that
      told him the world had rejected him. Maybe, just maybe,
      part of the world was ready to take him back. Scott took
      the sunglasses and slipped them on carefully. They
      hugged his head as if they'd been made for him, and the
      frames traced a path around his eyes, fitting more closely
      than any glasses he'd worn before. Trusting Xavier, but
      not himself, he turned his face towards the sky. He could
      have done this before. It would probably have been safe,
      but if imagination were temptation, then action would be
      damning.

      Opening his eyes was hard. They'd become gummed
      shut, though he did his best to wipe a lot of it away.
      More than that, it was hard to overcome weeks of
      training his eyelids not to so much as flicker. It was hard
      to hope. Most of all, it was hard to face the red beams
      that he knew would emerge. To be forced to
      acknowledge his mutation.

      No. His gift.

      Scott let out a long, nervous breath, and forced his eyes
      open. He almost cried out as the beams lanced out. Just
      in time, he realized that they traveled no farther than the
      glasses he wore. Glasses with red lenses, so that the
      entire world was bathed in ruby light, as if his...gift...had
      escaped after all.

      Scott lowered his head from a red sky to survey the red
      tinted world before him. A man in a wheelchair was
      looking up at him, smiling slightly. At that moment,
      Scott recognized him. He was a dream. He was hope.
      Scott blinked back tears, but found them falling anyway
      when the simple freedom of that action struck him.

      He let out a short, slightly hysterical laugh, and closed
      his eyes briefly so that he could remove the glasses and
      wipe the tears away. Replacing them, somehow not
      ashamed of crying, he held out his hand and introduced
      himself again. "Scott Summers. I'd like to go to
      Westchester with you, Mr. Xavier."

      Xavier's smile broadened. "The school will be glad to
      have you, Scott."

      "I'll be happy to attend it," Scott said, smiling. The
      expression stretched muscles that had grown unused to
      it. He smiled wider. "But that's not why I'm going. I'd
      like to *work* with you."

      Xavier looked started for a moment, then chuckled. "In
      time, Scott. In time."

      **The End**
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