Title: Kinda I Want To
Author: Askani'daughter / Eruntalince (newloverboys@yahoo.com)
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Kinda I Want To 8 - Through Charles' Eyes
By Askani'daughter
Excerpt from Charles' Xavier's journal, dated May 5th:
I have come to a conclusion.
And my conclusion is...
...that I need some damn sleep.
I love my X-Men like my own children. I really do. But everything that happens in their lives winds up a part of mine. And for the past two months, it seems the entire team has run to me with their conclusions on Warren and Scott's rather rocky relationship. Night after night, their mental observations fill my head. Sleep has become rather difficult, as you might imagine.
What exactly do they think I am supposed to do about this?
Knock Scott and Warren's heads together? Tie them to each other and lock them in the bathroom for a few days? Sit them down and say "Can the two of you just vent your sexual frustrations on each other and get it over with, please??" Telepathically force them to work things out?
It's *their* relationship. I will *not* interfere with their lives like that. I have resisted the temptation before, and I'll do it again. *They* needed to work their problems out.
But, with that said, I really wish I *could* have become involved. I've never met a more stubborn man than Scott Summers. Not even Logan can compare with Scott's bull-headed views on life. And Warren, well Warren was far too scared of Scott to do what he needed to do if he wanted Scott to be with him.
Warren needed to corner the stubborn child.
It's funny, how life works out. Just when Warren gave up hope, and Scott was content to close himself off from the world in hopes of maintaining his sanity, something happened to change their whole world.
We were all sitting together for a dinner that Rogue and Remy had cooked. It had been a week since Scott came out of his coma. The same night, Scott had told Remy how Rogue felt, and told him to go do something about it. I don't really approve of that method of interference, but...
...it worked.
They're friends now, at least. As for the romance, well Rogue has many reservations about that, not the least of which is her mutant power to absorb anyone she touches. But at least they have grown close again, and are talking. It makes them both very happy, which in turn makes *me* very happy.
The dinner was rather eclectic, a combination of Remy's Cajun cuisine, and Rogue's down-home Southern cooking. Shrimp gumbo and collard greens. Crawfish and mashed potatoes. Chili and fried chicken. Somehow, they made it all work.
They both insisted everyone eat, and they wanted it to be an X-Men family affair. It was Remy who forced Warren to come, and Rogue who literally picked Scott up and carried him downstairs to eat. It was as if Rogue and Remy *wanted* Scott and Warren to work things out, just as they had. Both knew of their teammate's attraction, so I knew it wasn't coincidence.
Scott had almost completely withdrawn since he came out of his coma. He spent a few hours a day in the Danger Room, but demanded to be alone while he did so. The rest of the time, he hid in his room, where the chaos of his empathic perception was a little dimmed. He handed the reins of leadership to Rogue, since Storm had declined. I am most impressed with his choice, because Rogue is working out wonderfully, and has even appeased everyone's disquiet about Scott's situation.
Warren has taken up one of his old pastimes: brooding. And when he's not brooding, he's womanizing. Well, allow me to amend that. He's not limiting himself to one gender. Almost every night he winds up in bed with a different partner. It's as if he's trying to drown himself in lust to forget about love.
Rogue and Remy even arranged the seating. I sat at the head of the table, wheeled in by a grinning Remy. Seeing a grin on Remy's face was rather nice. And here I thought everyone was sinking into the depths of depression. To my left sat Rogue, and to my right sat Remy. Next to Rogue, Scott was seated, or rather, dumped into his chair. Beside Remy was where Warren was forced to take a seat.
Even sitting across from each other, both men refused to even look at each other. Rogue and Remy cheerfully served everyone, and when Scott insisted he was not hungry and wanted to leave, Rogue gave him a double helping and amicably told him to eat it or wear it. Scott wisely chose to eat it, noting the glint in Rogue's emerald green eyes.
Warren complained loudly about missing a golden opportunity to get both drunk and laid, when Remy cheerfully hit him on the head with a large spoon. Warren ruefully rubbed his head, glaring at Remy hatefully. All in all the dinner was a success, but for Scott and Warren.
They both sulked while everyone else ate. Warren would look off to the right, and Scott to the left. And if by chance their gazes met, both pairs of eyes would wind up staring at their barely touched plates. Everyone else ate their food with gusto, complimenting the chefs profusely.
Jean noticed it before I did, whispering in my mind to look into Scott's. I did as I was told, peering into my first student's head. He was thinking of Warren, and only Warren. Of how much Warren meant to him, and yet how much he wanted his feelings for Warren to just disappear. It was the first truly lucid thought Scott had in a week. The chaos and confusion in his mind receded in the face of his concentration on Warren.
He didn't even realize what he was doing. He was just thinking of the might-have-beens and the almost-weres. Scott was reflecting on his past, and his own torn, crazy emotions. Scott had mental eyes only for Warren. He was thinking that he wished, sometimes, that he and Warren could have been lovers.
He was focusing.
I can't believe it was coincidence, but then again, to consider any other possibility opens the doors into fate, kismet, and other such nonsense. But regardless of what it was, it was Rogue who unknowingly became the catalyst for Scott and Warren.
"Now Ah *know* Ah told ya to eat yo' food, or ya was gonna wear it. Ah thought ya liked mah mashed potatoes, Scott?" Rogue asked, giving him a stern motherly gaze.
"I do, I do," Scott sighed, adjusting his new glasses, prescribed for his recent myopia. It was almost peaceful in his head for a moment. "I was just...waiting for the salt," he said quickly, noting that Rogue was very close to upending his plate on his head.
"Then ask Warren for the salt, and eat yo' food, Scott," Rogue said sternly. Scott had not been eating well the past week, and she was bound and determined to make sure he got fed well today.
Scott sighed again and reluctantly turned his gaze on Warren. "Please pass the salt, Warren," he asked darkly.
"Sure thing, Scott. Maybe if you sprinkle it on Rogue, she'll go away. Oh wait. That's *witches* who are afraid of salt, not *bitches*," Warren retorted, glaring at Rogue for instigating their interaction. The fact that Rogue had made up with Remy, while he had drifted even farther from Scott, only egged on his jealousy and irritation.
Rogue looked like she was about to stand up and let Warren have it when Warren stretched out his blue-skinned hand to Scott, holding the salt for Scott to take. Scott smirked at Warren's remark and reached out and took the salt, just as Rogue opened her mouth to retort and Remy turned to Warren to defend Rogue.
Scott's fingers brushed Warren's.
And all hell broke loose.
The first wave of psychic energy sent the entire dinner table sprawling, knocking over my wheelchair and skidding me several feet away. Rogue, who was right next to Scott, wound up becoming very intimate with the wall behind her.
"The fuck???" someone screamed. I think it was Logan, but my own psychic perceptions were twisted and warped by the pulses of energy Scott was sending out.
Both Scott and Warren had come to their feet, their bodies twitching and trembling. White arcs of psychic electricity passed between them. Their fingers still touched, and both men were unable to pull away from the touch. The salt fell to the table, and shattered on impact.
I tried to sit up, but another psychic shockwave sent me sprawling again. I could only imagine how some of the other X-Men were faring, since my telepathy was jumbled and being focused into Scott and Warren like wind into a tornado.
//Professor!! Help me!! Please, Professor!! I can't make it stop!!//
Scott was screaming at me mentally, but I couldn't get my mental bearings in time. I felt like a shipwrecked man lost in a stormy sea. I was lucky if I could keep my head above water.
//Professor??? What's going on???//
Warren's cries joined Scott, both men frantic. Their minds, emotions, memories, their very souls were melding, then un-melding, their consciousness becoming one, and then separating. It was utter confusion and chaos.
The room was being ripped apart. The dinner table was cracked in half and the X-Men were struggling not to be thrown into the cracking walls. It was like being in the middle of one of Ororo's wildest storms. I felt Jean's consciousness being swept past me, and into the psychic funnel Scott had accidentally created, but I grabbed her astral form, preventing her from becoming lost in them. Somehow, I got the feeling that her presence would only interfere and complicate matters.
//Jean!! Stay here with the X-Men!! I'll go in, and see if I can't calm the situation!! It is best you do not go in their minds!! I'll take care of it!!// I telepathically shouted at her. Jean withdrew back into her own body, as I started to let my astral form un-anchor itself from my body.
//Professor, what is this?? My bond with Scott was never this...wild!!// Jean asked me.
//Ah, but Scott was only a latent empath at the time. And you two never possessed the tension that Warren and Scott do. They're both resisting the mental bonding process.// I explained as best I could from my outward perceptions.
//I think I understand. Good luck, Professor! I'll hold the fort!//
My astral form spiraled towards Scott and Warren, drawn into their mental cacophony. I was immediately sucked inside their heads, but their consciousness was almost one. I could not tell where Scott ended and Warren began.
What I saw were their memories, as they relived them, sharing them. Their whole lives combining, every event a singular moment, trapped in psychic bubbles that burst upon impact. If I'm not making sense, that's because it made no sense. It was like a sea of blackness that I floated in, and in the sea floated bubbles of their memories.
I was helpless. My powers meant nothing there. This was Scott's domain. The main difference between telepathy and empathy is that empathy is so much more *primal* than telepathy. Wild and untamed, lacking in finesse and exactitude, a force of raw power.
I tried desperately to flail about, trying to help, trying to make sense of the nonsensical. What I became was a mere bystander, an audience to their mental linking. A memory bubble floated towards me, and I realized I could not escape it. I could hear my own voice speaking from within it as it neared me.
*Pop*."I would like to introduce you to the newest X-Man, and the third student to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. His name is Warren Worthington III, otherwise known as Angel."
Scott Summers' eyes widened behind his glasses at Warren, drinking in the adolescent beauty. At an age where he himself was too thin and gangly, Warren flourished with classic male beauty, his youth making him appear almost feminine.
"Hey, you can fly with those?" Hank McCoy asked, adjusting his glasses.
Warren grinned and lifted himself into the air with ease, smiling down at his new teammates. "What do *you* think, *Beast*?" he asked arrogantly.
Scott gaped up at the beautiful young man, admiring the pure white wings that were as beautiful as the rest of him. Warren landed on the ground easily, posing suggestively, as if he were a statue on display. "So what can you do, then, *Beast*?" Warren asked with a pointed yawn.
Hank bristled at the tone in Warren's voice. He jumped into the air, twisting gracefully, and ended up hanging off the chandelier by his feet. He looked at Warren upside down with a grin. "And I'm super-strong, flyboy. Whatcha think of *that*?" he asked.
"*Bor*-ing. What about you, *Cyclops*? What can you do?" Warren asked with that same infuriating smile. He knew Scott was admiring his beauty and he was enjoying every second of the attention.
Scott took a quarter out of his pocket and flipped it into the air. Very carefully, he lifted his glasses and put a hole through the quarter with his red optic beam. He dropped his glasses back down and caught the quarter and handed it to Warren without even saying a word. Warren stared at the quarter in fascination.
"Cool," he dimpled, eyeing Scott with renewed interest.
Scott shrugged. "Not really. I have to wear these glasses all the time, otherwise I'll destroy everything I see," he spoke for the first time. Warren cocked his head slightly and considered that inhibition carefully.
Beast dropped from the chandelier to the floor, landing on his feet gracefully. "Ol' Slim could put a hole in a mountain if he wanted to," Hank said cheerfully.
Scott shrugged again, blushing slightly under Warren's scrutiny. Warren was so beautiful to him. He looked just like a real angel...
I cut into the conversation, directing the boys to help Warren move into his new room. They did as they were told, Hank carrying most of it, showing off his powers to Warren. To his disappointment, Warren didn't seem interested in him at all.
"So, where are you from, Scott ?" Warren asked, discovering that his deputy leader was rather shy, and quite introverted.
Scott shrugged, intimidated by Warren's good looks and obvious wealth. "I was raised in an orphanage in Nebraska. I don't remember much of anything before my parents died," he said quietly, often staring at his feet, rather than Warren.
"Oh," Warren said simply, wondering what he should say to something like that. "I'm from New York. My father is the owner of Worthington Industries."
Scott gave an appraising glance to Warren's expensive, tailored outfit, and to the many expensive suitcases they were carrying. "Must be nice to be rich," he said bitterly.
"Sometimes," Warren shrugged. "Your father might be dead, but I'll bet you've seen yours more than I have mine."
Scott shrugged again, thinking of the abusive foster family I had rescued him from, and not exactly dripping with compassion for Warren's sorrows at the moment. "Whatever," he said dismissively.
It was odd, Warren often thought later on in his life, that almost fourteen years down the road, it was Scott who had everything, and Warren nothing.
*Pop*."Like what you see?"
Scott gulped, trying not to gape at the naked angel before him and failing.
He and Warren were in the boys' locker room beside the Danger Room, taking a shower after a training exercise. Together. Alone.
He had been staring at Warren the entire time, his eyes roving the delicate lines and curves of the blond's beautiful body. Not even Scott's glasses could hide his voyeurism.
"I...don't know what you mean," Scott faltered, his voice breaking.
Warren smiled seductively, and boldly sauntered over to Scott's shower head, stopping inches from Scott's own naked body. He posed himself, well aware of the effect his beauty had on people, and rather enjoying its effect on Scott. His wings fluttered under the water, even as Warren leaned in closely to Scott.
The blush that was creeping onto Scott's face deepened with every inch Warren took towards him. His eyes traveled every glorious twist and turn of Warren's nudity, and he licked his lips unconsciously.
"You know exactly what I mean, *Slim*. Parts of you don't seem so slim anymore," Warren grinned, pointedly drifting his ocean blue eyes down to Scott's groin, which was quickly becoming erect.
"I...don't understand..." Scott sputtered, backing away, horrified to discover his arousal. How could he let himself be so aroused by another *boy*? What was *wrong* with him?
Warren approached Scott again. He was no angel, appearances aside. He was fifteen years old, and was already exploring his sexuality. The fact that he seemed to like men as much as women didn't bother him. Why should it? He was a Worthington. He could have *anything* he wanted.
"You want me. You can have me, too. All you have to do is touch me..." Warren breathed impossibly close to Scott now, despite the taller boy's retreat. Within seconds, Scott was pressed against the shower wall, breathing heavily. Behind his glasses, his eyes were open as wide as they could go and his nostrils flared in fear.
"I...I..I'm not..." Scott babbled, terrified, yet his burgeoning sexuality *demanded* he reach a hand out and touch the wanton angel before him. The temptation was too great and he stretched out a hand, resting it gently on Warren's collarbone, soaking up the silky smooth perfection of Warren's skin.
"I've never been with a boy before. This should be fun..." Warren smiled, leaning into the touch, into Scott, demanding more of both. Scott's hand involuntarily stroked down Warren's chest, trembling all the way. Scott hated the fact that he was caressing another boy, but he wanted to *so* bad...
It was the smile that stopped him.
A smile full of arrogance and tease, a smile a cat would give the mouse before it eats it. A knowing smile, an intentionally seductive smile. A smile that sparked the tiniest bit of Scott's latent empathy and he *knew* that he was just another notch in Warren's belt, another conquest to be had, a mere object. They barely knew each other then. Between them lay nothing but sexual desire at that moment. It was the smile that stopped Scott dead in realization, like cold water being splashed on his groin. The gentle caress became a hard shove, an obvious rejection of what Warren offered before Scott turned and fled.
What was funny, was that out of all the possible catalysts that led to Scott's suppression of his homosexual desires, was a simple arrogant smile from the only man he ever truly wanted so bad he could have put aside his fears.
*Pop*."Why don't you keep anything I give you?"
Ever since their encounter in the shower, they seemed to be at odds. Trying to determine who was dominant, who was in charge. Who was going to win.
Scott looked up from the books he was studying on his desk and glared at Warren from behind his ruby quartz glasses. Warren stood in the doorway, cool, nonchalant, his interest in Scott growing everyday.
"I don't want it. I don't want your money. I don't want the shit your money can buy me. I just want you to leave me the fuck alone. I can take care of myself, thank you," Scott said almost angrily. He hated the feelings Warren gave him. The feelings he so desperately wanted to go away. They were so *wrong*.
Warren stepped in, uninvited, unwanted, but that never stopped him before. He placed a hand on Scott's book and leaned into the older boy's face, trying peer through the thick red glasses to see the eyes behind them.
"You don't want me to leave you the fuck alone. You just want me to fuck you," Warren smirked. On the outside, he presented the arrogance he always used. Inside, the doubtful part of himself that insisted that no one liked *him*, just his money, was rejoicing at Scott's rejection of the money and gifts. Scott was different from everyone else.
Scott was silent for a moment, his jaw working. And then he grabbed Warren's hand and shoved the boy away from him. "You got me all wrong, Worthington. I don't want you or your money. And even if I did, trust me when I say that the one being fucked *wouldn't* be *m*e," he hissed, his male pride smarting at Warren's remark.
Warren stood up straighter, his blue eyes flashing. Never had anyone stood up to him like that. He would eventually attribute the beginning of his love for Scott the day before, when Scott returned the stereo. But in reality, it was this day, the day Scott stood up to him. The day that someone refused Warren what he wanted.
"If you don't want me, then why act like you do, *Summers*?" he asked arrogantly, arching a golden eyebrow, freezing over. Warren placed his hands on his hips, his wings fluttering, a sign of inner nervousness, despite his cool exterior.
Scott stood up suddenly and grabbed the delicate wrists, pulling Warren forward. Warren's eyes widened, and for a moment, he thought Scott was going to kiss him. But instead, their faces met, their eyes looking into the other's, though Warren could not see anything but a dull red glow. Warren swallowed nervously, his face betraying mild fear at the angry tension lines on Scott's handsome face.
"You are an arrogant bastard, Angel. If you were a little more human, maybe things would be different," Scott pushed Warren away, and back out the door. "Go study, Angel, we have a test tomorrow."
The door to Scott's room was shut in Warren's face. But the door to his love was swung open in his heart, despite the rejection, or perhaps for it.
Warren was always an odd sort of person. Where most would have hated Scott, Warren loved him.
*Pop*.Perhaps it was the intense devotion. The fact that he played hard-to-get rather well. The strategic brilliance. The ability to command. The sense of fair play.
But I think it was the hidden compassion.
"I'm fine," Warren said petulantly.
"You're not fine. Beast was rough-housing too hard with you. Your wings are deceptively strong, Angel, but you need to be very careful with them. Pitting them against a super-strong opponent like Beast is a mistake," I told him, telepathically sensing the pain he was bravely trying to hide.
Warren crossed his arms. Beast hung his head in shame.
"Professor, I'm-"
"No excuses, Beast. Two demerits for horseplay. Cyclops, escort Angel to the medical room and bandage his wing for him. I want it iced, and Angel you are excused from physical training for the next two days. I don't think it's serious, but I don't want it to worsen," I commanded.
Warren's cheeks flamed red at the thought of having to be taken care of by Scott, who seemed very angry with him the past couple weeks. Scott helped him to his feet and silently led him to the medical room.
"I can do it myself," Warren said as they entered the room and Scott silently gathered what he needed.
"Bullshit. Your arms don't flex that well, especially with a hurt wing. Just sit down and shut up," Scott ordered. Warren fell silent.
He expected Scott to be rough. He expected Scott to relish the fact that he could even inflict more pain on Warren if he desired. But to the blond beauty's surprise, Scott's hands were surprisingly gentle on his wings as Scott iced the injured area.
"Soft," Scott muttered, stroking the snow white feathers underneath his hand, despite himself.
Warren sighed, and stared at his hands. "I'm sorry that I've been such a bastard lately. I just...I'm not used to...well...you know..." he said quietly.
"Treating other people with respect? I figured that out already, but you're forgiven anyways. You're not bad, Warren. If you were bad, you wouldn't have become the Avenging Angel. You just need to stop acting like you own the world. Then you wouldn't piss me off so bad," Scott shrugged.
"Do you like me? Even a little?" Warren asked hopefully, from underneath his golden lashes, turning slightly to look at Scott. Being liked by this strong, enigmatic young man was very important to Warren, even though he couldn't identify the strange emotions Scott created in him.
"When you act like you do now, sure. Even if you do act like a little kid," Scott chuckled, proving he did have a sense of humor.
The ice bag fell away and suddenly Warren was very close to Scott. The tall youth stiffened, suddenly uncomfortable.
"We can be friends?" Warren smiled, and he poured every ounce of charm into his smile.
"Friends. Friends is fine, Warren," Scott swallowed, unsure of where to put his hands, and grateful now that the blond couldn't see his eyes.
"Good. I want to be your friend," Warren said honestly. Only with Scott was he ever so blunt.
But he lied. Warren wanted so much more than friendship.
*Pop*.The obvious flirting fell to the wayside, particularly after Bobby arrived. Warren resinged himself to being Scott's friend, and occasionally his rival. Neither boy would allow himself to be bested by the other.
It was easy to pass what happened as nothing, to forget about it. At least for Scott, who was quickly trying to stuff his bisexual tendencies into his already over-crowded mental closet. They were just friends. It had to all be a joke, a mistake. Best to forget anything ever happened at all, especially the fact that he *wanted* to...
But it was so hard when Warren was so beautiful...
And Warren was always there...
And they had to take showers together sometimes...
Or if they were playing in the pool...
Or rough-housing in the Danger Room...
Or when Warren would look at him just so...
"This place is so *boring*, sometimes!" Warren complained, rubbing suntan lotion into his body by the pool one sunny afternoon, enjoying the way Scott just stared at him while he did it. Two years, and nothing. Nothing but secret glances, and mere friendship.
"I guess. But Professor X is training us to be super heroes. Won't be boring forever," Scott answered, trying to pretend he was reading his text book, and not staring at the lines on newly formed muscles on Warren's back. The slightly feminine cast to Warren's features had already almost faded away to nothing, and oddly, Warren only grew more attractive in Scott's mind.
"If you say so, Slim. But it doesn't make up for the lack of social life we all have," Warren continued, glancing back at Scott. Scott was still too thin, but his gangly appearance was fading away, leaving behind a very handsome youth with burgeoning muscles.
"I hate people. I like it quiet better," Scott shrugged, ignoring Hank and Bobby's antics in the pool.
"Maybe if Professor X would let us out and let us have some fun, I wouldn't mind it. I haven't had sex since our last vacation. I'm going nucking futs," Warren sniggered.
"Is sex all you think about?"
"I'm seventeen, almost eighteen years old. It *should* be all I think about. What's wrong with you, that it's not all you think about?"
"*I* have better things to think about."
"Better than sex? Spoken like a true virgin, Slim."
Scott's cheeks flamed red. Both Hank and Warren seemed so fascinated with sex, and both seemed to have already experienced it. The fact that he, the deputy leader of the X-Men, was still a virgin, bothered him. Yet he was far too shy to approach any girl about it. And the thought of men only brought a sense of guilt and shame, normally outweighing his desire.
"Who says I'm a virgin?" Scott asked testily. He couldn't let Warren win even this battle.
"I do. Are you saying it's not true?" Warren smirked, looking remarkably like a cat with a trapped mouse in its paws.
"I've had sex plenty of times," Scott said, furrowing his eyebrows.
"With who? Yourself doesn't count, though I just can't see you, oh fearless leader, jacking off at all."
"None of your business."
"Liar."
"I am *not* a virgin!"
Hank and Bobby both left the pool and headed inside, sensing a coming argument, and not wanting to be dragged into it like last time. Scott was the bastion of maturity, until Warren started needling him.
"Prove it," Warren said with a casual grin.
"How the hell am I supposed to prove it?" Scott asked, his nostrils flaring in irritation.
"The boathouse. Tomorrow night. With me," Warren grinned and stood up, flexing his wings out.
Scott stared at the sculpted body before him. The part of himself that wasn't quite locked up in the closet yet struggled forward, and he was mesmerized. He *wanted* Warren. He wouldn't admit it, but he wanted to do things with him that he only considered in rare moments of utter privacy, or in his dreams.
"With you...?" he managed to croak out.
"I like you. I like you a lot, Scott. If you've had sex before, then proving it to me shouldn't bother you at all," Warren challenged, creating a easy escape route for Scott's guilt.
Scott stared at him, flushed and embarrassed and filled with desire he wanted to squelch. "How... How would I prove it to you...?" he asked after a few moments, his throat dry.
"Any way you want, Scott," Warren breathed, a finger gently tracing the curves of Scott's chest. Scott sucked in his breath when a finger brushed his sensitive nipples and then withdrew.
"We'll see if you're *man* enough to prove to me that you're not a virgin, Scott. Promise me you'll come," Warren demanded, standing back, posing suggestively.
"I promise," Scott whispered, before he could stop himself, mesmerized by a form that haunted his barely remembered erotic dreams. Horror and elation filled his being upon realization of what he had just said.
"See you tomorrow night, then, *Slim*," Warren purred, sauntering away, the combination of hips, buttocks and wings creating a rather tantalizing show for Scott Summers.
And if Jean Grey hadn't arrived the next day, Scott Summers would have kept his promise.
*Pop*.You see, neither young man had his desires limited to one gender.
Scott walked the lovely redheaded girl to her dormitory door, showing her inside with a courtesy he rarely displayed to anyone. Jean smiled at him and giggled going inside, wondering how she could be so lucky to wind up with such a great guy interested in her. And so handsome, too!
Scott lingered outside her door for a minute, the smile he had mustered for her fading away. She was so convenient. Beautiful *and* smart. She proved to him that he wasn't gay. There was no room in his mind for bisexual, he only saw things in black and white. His attraction to the gorgeous redhead proved to him that this... *fascination*...with Warren was all a big mistake.
Warren's constant flirting with Jean, from the moment she stepped foot on campus annoyed Scott, for two reasons. He liked Warren. He liked Jean. But he couldn't like Warren. It was all wrong with Warren. It was very wrong with Warren. With Jean, everything was right, everything was as it should be.
So after the tussle with Magneto earlier that day, when Jean asked Scott if he would like to catch a burger, Scott quickly accepted her offer. All he had to do was forget all about Warren and concentrate on Jean, and he would be back to normal in no time...
A pair of angry, jealous blue eyes caught him in the hallway. Scott stared at Warren for a long time before stepping past him and towards his room, ignoring the silent, angry query.
Over the years, Scott was able to forget about his early relationship with Warren. Until today.
*Pop*.Scott Summers, the X-Man known as Cyclops...
I saw it all in an instant.
Scott's love for Jean. The reunion with his long-lost little brother and father. Jean's possession by Phoenix and her eventual "death" as Dark Phoenix. The arrival of Rachel Summers, a hurtful reminder of what Scott could have had with Jean. The convenient discovery of Madelyne Pryor and her empty marriage to Scott. The birth of his son, and Jean's "rebirth". Scott's abandonment of wife and son for Jean. Madelyne's mental instability and eventual descent into corruption as she took on the mantle of the Goblin Queen. Madelyne's attempted murder of her own child, which lead to her own death at Jean's hands. The deadly disease Apocalypse infected Nathan with, which led to Scott having to give up his only child to the Askani order in the future to save his life. The emergence of Stryfe and Cable, and the heart-breaking revelation that Scott's son was now old enough to be his father, and his son's greatest enemy was his son's own clone. His inevitable marriage to Jean, and their honeymoon adventure that soothed much of his heartache as his spirit was taken to the future to raise his son, all taken place in a few minutes in his own time. His relationship with Jean, which grew to be his comfort zone, and Scott was content to let his world revolve around Jean, content to never grow, change, learn, or reach beyond what he had...
Until Jean saw the fact that there was part of Scott that would never be free as long as she was with him. And in an act of true love, she cut him free, so he could grow, and be a man unto himself.
*Pop*.Warren Worthington III, the X-Man known as Angel...
I saw it all in an instant.
The rather quick ousting of Warren from his love triangle with Scott and Jean. The loss of his distant parents and the inheritance of their fortune. The sad, pale shadows of the X-Men he tried to create to comfort himself. Neither Defenders or Champions lasted long. The arrival of Candy Southern, the only woman he ever truly loved. The kidnapping at the hands of Callisto, the first real blow to his confidence. The betrayal of Cameron Hodge and the death of Candy at Cameron's hands. The crippling of his wings by Harpoon, and their eventual amputation. The deep depression over his effective psychic castration, and the attempted suicide. The devil's bargain he struck with Apocalypse. The attack he made on his own friends as the fourth Horseman, Death, his sanity not regained until he thought he killed Bobby. His intense shame, and thorough loss of self-confidence and self-worth. The birth of the brooding Archangel. The marriage between Jean and Scott. The failed relationship with Betsy, more proof of his inability to be worthy of anyone. The growing hunger for Scott and Scott's strength, to be comforted by his first true love...
And the unbearable pain of Scott's rejection.
*Pop*.I felt my astral form being literally slammed back into my body. I arched and writhed with the sudden psychic shock, struggling into an upright position.
The psychokinetic chaos had stopped, much to my relief. X-Men were slowly picking themselves off the walls or the ground, looking both dazed and bewildered. Jean was the first to rise, taking a glance at Scott and Warren.
They were both unconscious, the psychic effort spending both their energies. They were in a heap, their bodies tangled. I gently probed their minds with telepathy, and found them to be heavily shielded. But whatever else had happened, Scott had definitely forged a mental bond with Warren, however unwittingly.
Jean raised her green eyes to meet mine, a frown stretched across her lips. They had both resisted the bonding process, part of the reason for this dramatic release of psychic energy from Scott. And mental link or no, it did not solve any of their problems, and could potentially have made them worse. In her emerald eyes was framed the same question I knew was mirrored in my own.
What now?