Disclaimer:  All characters here belong to Marvel, obviously.  Except of course for 
any that I make up which still really belong to Marvel because I’ve based them on 
their universe.  I’d be thrilled if they took them anyway.  I’m not making any 
money so nobody sue me.  This is all just for fun.

This is my first attempt at fan fiction so I would like to know what everyone 
thinks.  Please e-mail me with comments, suggestions, what you like and don’t like, 
etc. at cvotulle@vt.edu.  Also, if you notice any problems with continuity please 
try to ignore them.  I’m not too concerned with continuity right now, just the 
story.  It takes place some time after Onslaught and I promise that it will be several 
chapters long (several meaning considerably more than twenty).  I would 
appreciate it if anyone wishing to archive it would contact me first.  Thanks

Quick Reference:	“This is when someone is speaking aloud.”
		
		#This is when someone is speaking telepathically.#


Revelations: Prologue
Chris Votulle, April 1997

     Scott Summers and Jean Grey walked along the quiet New York city streets -- 
hands entwined -- after a romantic night on the town.  It was getting late, but they 
were hesitant to go back to the mansion -- cherishing this time alone together.  
They have been married for about a year now, but they seldom had the 
opportunity to go out on dates like this with the responsibilities of running 
Xavier’s school and leading the X-Men.  That’s what had made this night extra 
special.  It had started out with dinner, then a Broadway show, then just sitting 
together and talking in a local coffee shop.  They left when the shop closed and 
that’s where they were now -- walking together in comfortable silence, just happy 
to be in each other’s presence.  They had had their typical marriage problems of 
late, but deep down they loved each other; *truly* loved each other.  It was a love 
so strong and so pure that their very souls were as one.  They knew what each 
other thought and felt to the point where one didn’t feel complete without the 
other.

     Jean leaned her head on Scott’s chest and sighed, listening to the comforting 
rhythm of his heart beat.  It was at times like this that she wished that she wasn’t a 
mutant -- that she and Scott could live a “normal” life together -- but she knew that 
to be a futile dream.  She couldn’t help having the powers that she was born with.  
All she could do was use them as best as she could for the benefit of society so 
that hopefully, one day, Xavier's dream would become a reality.  The reality of a 
world where both humans and mutants could live together in peace.  She believed in 
the dream, but at times it seemed hopeless.  How can all humans and mutants get 
along with each other when they can’t even agree amongst themselves?  Why is the 
world filled with so much hate?

     Scott gently stroked her long red hair.  #Jean, don’t worry like this.  There’s 
only so much we can do.#  He spoke to her through the psychic link that they 
shared.

     She flinched.  Jean hadn’t realized that she was projecting.  #I know Scott, but 
sometimes I just feel so helpless to stop all of the pain that is going on around us.  
I mean, just look at this place!#

     She had a point.  They had inadvertently wandered to a rather bad part of town. 
 The streets were filthy and poorly clad people, who were equally as filthy, 
littered the sidewalks.  Jean’s attention wavered as she noticed a boy quietly sneak 
out of a side alley some distance away from her.  He looked about fourteen years 
old.  He was wearing clothes that were at least four sizes too big for him that made 
his small frame look pathetically smaller.  He was also wearing a large pair of 
glasses and a Yankee’s ballcap that was pulled down low, concealing most of his 
face.  He was noticeably shivering as he hunched down next to a stoop that was 
protruding from one of the many condemned buildings.  Jean’s heart went out to 
him.  He looked so cold a miserable and *young*.  How could someone so young 
possibly be expected to survive out here on their own?  As it is he was already 
suffering from some serious exposure.  Jean wanted to help him, so she did it by 
the only way she knew how.  She reached out to him telepathically, hoping to 
establish some sort of communication -- possibly finding out how he ended up here 
and convincing him to allow her to help him.  She extended her mind and it seemed 
to go right through him.   she said to herself.  It was as if the boy 
wasn’t there.  She tried again, being more observant this time.  She then realized 
that the previous time her mind did not go through the boy, but was instead 
deflected around him by some kind of kinetically charged field.  Now that she was 
aware of the field she approached it head on.  It was like hitting a brick wall.  For 
some reason this boy was totally unreadable, which had the effect of increasing her 
curiosity.

     “Scott, we have to help that boy.  He looks so cold and miserable.”

     “What boy?”  Scott looked around confusedly.  The boy was well hidden and 
quite a distance away.  Jean wondered what had made her notice him in the first 
place.  No matter -- now that she had she was strangely drawn to him.

     Jean pointed the boy out to Scott who surprised her by saying, “I don’t know 
Jean, it looks like he can handle himself.”  A slight smile crept around the edges of 
his mouth as he pointed to the boy.

     Jean was shocked to see the boy collect a pile of old newspapers and extend his 
finger to it.  Suddenly, a spark emitted from seemingly nowhere and the pile 
erupted in a blaze of warmth as the boy relaxed against the wall of his stoop.  
“He’s a mutant!” she whispered in disbelief.

* * * * *

     “I saw that you freak!!!”  An old, haggard bum standing across the street from 
the boy pointed and screamed.  “I saw what you did!!  I know what you are!  
You’re here to take over this place from us, huh?  You think that you’ve got the 
right?  Just because you have some ‘power’?  I don’t want any muties hanging 
around here.  You scum of the earth!  Hear that people??  MUTIE!!!”  He 
screamed the word drenched in hatred.  He didn’t know anything about the boy 
and didn’t want to -- he just knew that he hated mutants and he wasn’t going to 
tolerate any around here.

     The boy bolted upright, ready to run, but not knowing where to run to.  

     “MUTIE!!!”  The old man screamed it over and over.  Other people were 
starting to take notice and several joined in making similar remarks of disgust.  The 
boy just stood there, frozen to his spot.  Fear was written all over his face -- at 
least the part of his face that was visible.  A crowd was beginning to form.  A 
crowd that quickly turned into a mob thirsty for mutant blood.  The boy saw 
gleams of light flicking off of knife blades that had suddenly appeared in the hands 
of his assailants.  That’s when he tore off.  He was surprisingly fast, but not so 
fast as to escape a well-aimed knife thrown in his direction.  He gasped as it lodged 
into his calf, but kept on running as if his life depended on it -- because it did.

* * * * *

     Scott watched in horror as people crept out of alleys and shadows.  They were 
all headed towards the boy with clear intentions to do bodily harm.  He knew that 
there was a local chapter of the Friends Of Humanity nearby and these people 
were no doubt influenced by blatant anti-mutant propaganda.  He also knew what 
these people were capable of doing to that boy and he was going to do his best to 
stop it.  He was hesitant to use his mutant powers here -- an optic blast into that 
crowd could seriously, if not fatally, wound innocent bystanders.    Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to hurt all of these people if it could 
be avoided.  He started running towards the boy, Jean close on his heels.  The 
crowd was getting closer and Scott saw the boy bolt.  Unfortunately, it was in the 
opposite direction from him. He disregarded his original intention to not use his 
powers in order to protect the crowd when a blade was thrust towards the boy.  
He pulled down his tinted glasses, exposing his eyes, and let loose an optic blast 
just as the boy dove into a side alley.

     The red beam was directed at a lamppost that was directly over the heart of the 
crowd.  It shattered in a blaze of sparks, having the desired effect of  subduing the 
crowd, if not silencing them.

     Most people initially stood there in shock -- consumed by their hatred and 
wanting to act upon it, but too afraid to jeopardize their own precious life.  Some 
people fled, wanting to get as far away from Scott as possible.  Some people 
rushed at him, directing their anger at a new target.  A few people ran down the 
alley still intent in their pursuit of the boy.  Scott just continued running.

     He ignored the angry people running at him -- it was a good thing that Jean had 
her telekinetic shield up or they would have slowed him down considerably.  His 
only thoughts were of the boy and bringing him to safety.  He came to the alley the 
boy had run into and did a quick scan, but the boy was no where in sight.  
However, at the end of the alley he did see a few of the boy’s assailants talking to 
what appeared to be a scantily clad young woman.

* * * * *

     “Look, I’m not interested in your services.  I’m just looking for a piece of 
mutant scum that came this way.  Did you see him?”

     The girl smiled at the man deviously, exposing a little more of her legs as she 
did.  “Are you sure?  You know, I can show you a really good time.  I'll make you 
forget all about that mutie.  I may even see fit to  give you a discount.”

     He looked tempted, but was adamant in his reply. “I said no!  Just tell me 
where he is.”

     “Hey, it’s your loss buddy.  I haven’t seen anyone come dow-...”

     She stopped as he pulled out a knife and held it to her throat.  Another man, 
who was more to the point, came up next to her and hissed in her ear, “Hand over 
the fuckin’ mutie.”

     “Step away from the girl, NOW!” 

     The four men turned to see a very angry looking man holding a hand up to his 
red-tinted glasses.  They knew first-hand what those eyes were capable of and 
didn’t want to risk it, so they ran -- leaving the trembling girl behind.

* * * * *

     Jean followed Scott as he made his way towards the prostitute.    Jean 
shook her head and let the thought go.   Her main concern was the boy.  He was 
probably alone, scared, and bleeding.  She wanted to be able to comfort him, help 
him, but she had no way of finding him.  She felt very helpless.

     Scott approached the girl, who looked extremely frightened at this point.  She 
was standing behind a fence and looked like she was about to run into the building 
behind her, but fear of Scott must have kept her frozen to her spot.  “Could you 
please help us?  We’re looking for a young boy who came down here.  He was 
wearing a baseball cap and very baggy clothing.  He may be hurt and we can see 
that he gets medical attention.”

     The girl looked at him skeptically.  “I’ve already been through this.  No one’s 
come down this way.  Besides, I don’t see what’s so important about some kid.  
What’s he to you anyway?”  Her voice wavered slightly.

     Jean examined the girl carefully.  She was wearing a lot of makeup, but it looked 
like it had been put on very hastily.  Her black hair was shoulder length - very 
straight, and with no body at all.  Almost as if she had recently been wearing a hat. 
 Her skin was so pale that it was almost white and her eyes were the oddest shade 
of blue.  They were glacier-like in appearance and they were filled with both fear 
and pain.  Jean reached out to touch her mind, but once again she felt nothing there.

     Scott looked like he was about to lose his patience.

     #It’s okay honey.  Let me handle this.#

     Jean approached the girl with her palms held outward.  She spoke in a soothing 
voice and tried to be as calm as possible.  “No one’s going to hurt you here.  We 
know a place where you can get some help, but you’re going to have to trust us 
first.  Please.  If you’d just open your mind to me I could show you.”

     The girl looked hesitant.  She gave a quick glance at Scott then returned her gaze 
back to Jean.  Jean felt a light telepathic scan graze her outer psyche and an 
overwhelming sense of pain that was no doubt coming from the girl.  Her eyes 
filled with relief as she discovered the truth from Jean.  When she resurrected her 
shields the pain was gone from Jean’s mind, but it still lingered on the girls face.  
Thankfully the fear seemed to be dissipating and she looked like she was willing to 
trust them.  She sheepishly pulled her hand out from behind her back and produced 
a small knife, dripping with blood.

     “I . . . I, I think it’s coated with some kind of poison.”  She stammered.  Then 
her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted dead away.

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