Title: "Black eyes/Blue eyes"

Author: Loki (that's me J )

Feedback: "You can kiss my furry little butt!" (Frank-M.I.B.)

World: Movie

Rating: Nc-17 ( 'cuz I am one sick puppy...)

Archiving: Green light given, just tell me where it's goin'

Pairings: Scott/Jean, Xavier/Magneto, Logan/Ororo

Summary: Scott meets an old nightmare that won't fade away

Notes: Warning! Some may find the following story disturbing. Dark, sad fiction ahead. Cnsider yourselves warned.

Thanks to Sorciere for great beta. hugs Thank you, lovely!

Black eyes/Blue eyes

The plane-ride was excelent so far. The two young boys never got tired of gazing out the window to the world below. The simple thought of spending a whole vacation with their loving mother and wonderful father turned their little mouths in wide smiles, that just rayed happiness.

They had not seen their father in a long time. The news that he had returned and he was taking them away was as unexpected as it was welcomed. They never did understand why their father spent so much time away from home.

Scott and Alex often asked their mother when he would return. And they always got the same answer: 'He'll be home very soon.'

Major Christopher Summers was a very busy man. His job was taking a heavy toll on his leisure time. But he knew it was worth it. If this was the way he'd give his son's the secure and good future he hoped for, then anything was worth it.

It was night, and the plain was flying high above a dark forest.

"Scott, Alex, it's late, you should get some sleep before we arrive..." the voice of their mother called to them.

"But mommy," Alex insisted "we're watching the pretty light."

Scott, who was standing on his feet in his chair, turned his blue eyes to his mother.

"Yeah mom, look how bright it is..."

"What are you two..." Katherine's words were cut short by the sound of a blow, and a very violent shake of the plane. She had to keep a firm grip on the back of the nearest chair in order to not stumble down.

Scott was immediately knocked to the ground.

Right then their father stepped out of the pilot's cabin and cried at them to gather around him as fast as they could. He had to yell as loud as he could to be able to make himself heard over the loud noise that was coming from the destroyed engine.

Scott was too dazed to get up. He saw Alex bend over him and could see his lips move, but no sound reached his ears. He looked up to the ceiling and saw it spinning, when he looked back at his brother's face, he saw his features slowly turned. His round, red cheeks turned slim and pale, his blonde, long hair turned brown and short, his face turned hard, he became...Scott. Except for his eyes. All of Alex's features turned into Scott's, and as Scott felt he was looking into a mirror he saw that the new Scott's eyes were black.

In reality, Alex had already ran to his parent's side, but the new Scott remained in front of the old one staring him with his burning black eyes.

And Scott knew this double of his well, too well.

"What are you waiting for! Get up and get them out of here! They are your responsability, you are the older one. Go to them and do what we always knew we'd have to do. Now!"

"Yes, Andrew, yes, I'm...I'm going." Scott said and he stood up.

He yelled for his brother but his cry was covered by the roaring sound of the plane's engine.

He found himself lifted by his father and took before the open hatch.

"Scott, take the parachute, " his father started as he was strapping the parachute securely on his back

"Take good care of Alex my son."

Scott burst into tears and nodded at his father.

"Remember, I love you." Then he turned his gaze towards Alex and he hugged them

"I love you both."

Scott only had time to see his mother crying and to see Andrew, sitting quiet and angry behind his parents. His fists were clenched and his lips formed the word: "Failure"

Then his father pushed both him and Alex out the open hatch.

Scott flew through the air, keeping a tight grip on his younger brother. At least he would not fail him. His grip tightened around his younger brother. Alex was crying loudly in Scott's ear.

The earth was drawing near...

He counted to five

...and nearer

And pulled the string that was to release the parachute , but nothing happened!

...and even nearer

And as the parachute did not open, and his brother continually wept in his arms,Andrew's voice was ringing over and over in Scott's head:

"Failure... failure... failure..."

And his black eyes stared through him more and more intense,

And the ground was so close now...

"Scott, I'm sorry to wake you but... the priest will be here any minute..." Jean woke him in a doubtful tone.

Scott got up from the armchair that he had fell asleep in and felt like rubbing his eyes. He was so tired. But then again, they were all tired. He couldn't belive he had allowed himself to sleep right then.

"Thank you Jean, I'll be right there."

Jean pulled Scott in a tight embrace, and held back her tears.

"Since you turned it down, we chose Ororo to speak the eulogy..."

Scott hugged her back.

"Okay honey...okay..."

He held her hand and they walked to the room in which Charles Xavier, founder of the X-men, long time mentor and parental figure for Scott, was laying lifeless in his wooden coffin, on the low cedar table.

It sank his heart and made him weak in the knees to see his beloved Professor dead. His once beautiful lips, that not long ago held one of the most compassionate smiles any could offer, were now thin and blue, and perhaps most painful of all, they no longer showed the expressiveness he had become so used to.

Scott suddenly heard a faint voice echo in his head:

"Cut it out you failure! At least be strong for them now!"

Scott's features turned to shock. He looked immediately at Jean. She was the only telepath in the room, yet she did not show signs of having said something. Nor that she had heard anything through their link.

They headed towards the two empty chairs across the room and just as they sat down the priest entered the room.

After a short speech by the priest Storm got up and started the eulogy.

Her words were cut by short whimpers and soft cries, tears running down her cheeks. Scott only absentmindedly follwed her speach. His mind was trailing off to when he had first met the closest thing to a father he had since his real parents had died.

He remembered how, with his soft smile and gentle touch Xavier had slowly turned the young, shy, nervous and impulsive boy into the man he was today. Into Cyclops. Leader of the X-men.

As his looks went across the room he caught the other's expressions. Jean was crying on his shoulder, and Rogue was whimpering softly in Logan's arms. Everywhere he looked he saw tears, so he bowed his head and felt the need to do the same. But instead of tears burning in his eyes images flooded in his mind, remembering him of the day Xavier died.

Magneto had escaped from prison. With the help of their newest member, a mysterious man only known as Gambit, the Brotherhood had managed to quickly release their leader.

A week had barely passed since his escape and Magneto shocked the world with a bombing atempt on the french Eiffel Tower. He was about to take out the whole Paris. This would have shown people around the world what mutants are capable of. Magneto had the bomb prepared and was about to flee.

However an instant after everything was set the french police, a small army force, and specially trained units to deal with mutant threaths had encircled him.

Magneto was surprised but he was not prepared to give in without a fight. What he did not know was that the police had developed a special mutant recruitement program, and had infiltrated an undercover agent into the Brotherhood itself. He was the one that alerted the police, and because of him the Brotherhood was now cornered.

That same evening Xavier got an anonymous phone call telling him to come to Paris if he valued Magneto's life. Using the Blackbird Xavier got to Paris just as Magneto was prepared to fight his way out of the trap.

Xavier had tried to convince Magneto to give in without a fight. He was the only one who could have.

But as they were talking Gambit, the double agent, crept silently to them, and aimed a small, easy to conceal weapon at Xavier. He was the one that telephoned Xavier, luring

him here with the purpose of disposing of him. The french police would use Gambit to take out two birds with one stone: they would kill one of the most proeminant mutant rights activist, and dispoze of the most dangerous terrorist alive.

From the shadows he struck at Xavier, killing him instantly. He then aimed at Magneto but he was too slow as the other mutant was quick to react and simly pulled the weapon away from Gambit, giving him the same fate as he had given Xavier.

Magneto's rage was imense, and many died at his hands that day. But even he, enraged as he was, could not do anything more than perform a violent and lucky flee.

Scott saw the awe and pain in Magneto's eyes in the moment that Xavier was shot. He saw and understood that pain. It was the pain at loosing a loved one. And not just A loved one, but THE loved one. It was then Scott understood that Magneto loved Xavier, not just as a simple friend, but as only a lover could.

Out of reflex he squeezed Jeans hand in his own, like he was just making sure she was still next to her.

His red gaze then moved past all of the X-Men and he continued looking around the spacious room.

And his gaze stopped right on the tall man sitting in a far away corner. The man was dressed in a trench coat, and his eyes were shielded by a pair of glasses.

Scott held his breath in disbelief. It couldn't be!

He was just a nightmare now! Nothing more!

Scott stood up, gaining the other's attention. He shut his eyes tight and then opened them again to find that the man was gone. None of the others showed any signs of seing the strange man.

"Scott, what is the matter?" Jean asked, with concern, and even a hint of fear in her voice.

"I...I am sorry..." Scott was able to bable and sat back down.

Scott, what happened? Jean telepathically asked him.

Just a ghost from the past honey...nothing more Scott replied in a calming tone.

Then they both turned their attention back to Ororo, who, with imense efforts was close to finishing their Professor's eulogy.

After the burial and the return to the mansion most of the X-men went to their rooms, all

of them feeling insecure about what the next day would hold for each of them.

Scott slowly undressed himself and went in the bathroom to take a shower.

As the water flowed down his tensed and tired muscles he slowly began relaxing. He

could finally get some sleep. If only it would come to him.

The loss of his beloved mentor was weighing too heavilly upon him to even be able to sleep.

After he got out of the shower he went to the sink and looked into the miror above it. He looked worse than he felt. He just kept staring when he heard a sharp, steel edged voice behind him.

"That's right! Take a good look at yourself you failure! You make me sick you pathetic, incompetent bastard!"

Scott turned in shock and slipped on the wet floor. He hit his head hard on the sink and slowly felt himself losing his consciousness. As he slipped slowly to the dark he heard the other one saying.

"I'll be seing you later friend. Because I'm finally free, and you can't lock me back up."

"Andrew...no..." Scott managed to gasp out, and then he blacked out.

Scott woke up in the mansion's infirmary.

He got up but the intense headache that followed forced him to lay down again.

"Scott, you're awake!" Jean said as she had just entered the room, and rushed to his side."What happened to you? I felt you blackening out through our link, but I just thought you fell asleep. When I entered the bathroom I found you layin limp next to the sink. You had a nasty cut in the back of your head, and you had lost alot of blood. I was so scared for you!" She pulled him in a hug.

"It's okay Jean, The floor was all wet and I just slipped. I remember hitting myself, but I blacked out almost immediately. Lucky for me you found me..." he responded and hugged her back tightly. He raised his gaze over her shoulder only to see Andrew sitting in the door. An expresion of rage was on his face.

"Lucky!" he asked with irony, "You'd have better never got up!"

Scott suddenly pulled away from Jean in a desperate move, and fell of the bed, his sheet still wrapped around his legs. He tried to get up but he stumbled and fell.

"Scott! What is wrong?" Jean asked not understanding what Scott was trying to run from, or what he was trying to run to.

When he looked to the door again Scott saw that Andrew was gone.

"Jean, did you feel anything in my head a second ago?"

"Scott... no I didn't feel anyhting, what just happened here!"

Scott slowly stood up.

"Nothing. I'm going to go upstairs now Jean."

"Scott, don't walk away from me! Tell me what is wrong!"

Scott's expression turned soft and he went over to Jean and softly brushed his lips against hers.

"When I find out, you'll be the first one to know..."

And he turned away and walked out.

Men Jean thought And they say we women make no sense...

Scott got to his room and shut the door behind him. He bowed his head and took a moment to rub his temples.

How did this happen? It had been since the Professor –his beloved Professor- took him in that Andrew had dissapeared completely. He even forgot Andrew had existed.

Not even the slightest memory of Andrew. Until yesterday that is. Where the hell was he all this time and how did he come back?

"Alone at last."

Scott looked up, knowing who he was about to lay his eyes on.

"Why have you returned? I have no need of you. Come to think of it, I never had!"

Andrew removed his glasses, revealing his deep, black eyes. His mouth spreead in a mysterious grin.

"Returned? My dear self, I have never gone away. Did you not feel me every time you led them out in battle? You think it was Cyclops that led them to all those victories? Did you think your leader aptitude, or leader instinct got you out of the tight spots you were in. No, my dear self. You indeed have that instinct in you. But I make it work. You once knew that. You felt it. You felt me, and accepted me for whom I was, for whom WE were. But then you chose to cage me. To lock me up. And although I was able to help us from my cage, I could do nothing when it really counted. I couldn't stop you from failing when it counted most. I couldn't stop you from ruining your life! Not because I couldn't have, but because you didn't let me... And now you stand here before me, a broken man, with all that he cared for most in his life gone. And who is to blame for this? I'll let you answer that one..."

Scott slowly shook his head.

"I would answer it Andrew, but my answer would condemn me. Leave me be. Leave me alone..." he pleaded.

"You know I won't do that. Not until you realise and accept your fate. Present past and

future."

Andrew slowly pulled a razor from his poket and held it before Scott's eyes.

"I will come again to you, in the night, for that is when you shall be awake. The daylight will become less important, and more hurtful, that is why you shell seek refuge in the night. And sooner or later, it will come to this." and, like a message the sharp razor glittered.

"No! Never!" Scott yelled, but he only cried in vain, because Andrew was already gone.

The days passed, and grew shorter for Scott, because, as Andrew had told him, he became an adept of the nightlife. And, as Andrew had said, the two met every night.

Sometimes even more than once on the same night.

After a week of staying away from sunlight, everyone got used to see Scott's powerless, blue eyes. None of them, not even Jean had ever even thought he had blue eyes. Most of

the time they just saw one big red one. Cyclops's eye.

But his joy at seing colours for the first time in years was cut every night by the appearence of Andrew.

Every night, unseen to any other -even to Jeans psychic eye- the dark-eyed man came to Scott's side. And every time he hurt Scott, and took him back through the most painful and hard moments of his life: from the tragic death of his parents, to the loss of his brother, to the fact that he hadn't been able to take care of him as he had promised, to every mission that he had failed on or on which any of his teammates were injured or hurt, and to the painful loss of his Professor.

And every time Scott was getting closer and closer to using the sharp razor that he now had with him at all times. He had come to a point where he'd press it's sharp edge right next to his veins, feeling them pulsate through the razor's thin steel. He was so close to cutting, so very close.

Only a small part of him called Cyclops now prevented him from doing that. Only Cyclops now prevented Andrew from going through with his self-punishing campaign, and the razor from going through Scott's flesh.

His blue eyes now appeared empty, and he had the expression of a lost, confused man. His gaze always seemed to lose itself somewhere in an indefinable point in front of him, never focusing, never paying attention. The words of his friends now barely even reached his mind, not to mention his heart.

He was now fighting a war against Andrew with every fiber of his body, and every trace of his will and self control. But this war was coming to an end, and Scott knew it. The last bastion of his strenght was almost crippled. And his blue eyes seemed to lose more and more of their focus with every passing day.

It was now the seventh day since the Professor had died, and all the halls of the great mansion were as quiet as a grave, Jean thought as she was heading towards Xavier's study.

No more kids running around, pulling stunts in her lab at night. And no more silent chuckles and attempts of hiding whe she discovered them. No more pillow fights in the student's rooms. All gone now...

But she'd better keep her mind on the present.

As the Professor had instructed her through his will she was to see his records on every stundent and teacher in the school. A strange heritage, but she had been assured that the Professor had added those words in his will for a long time, and he gave them immediate priority. It was going to be a long night.

Maybe I should get on it in the morning... she thought. But then she decided that it had been delayed for long enough. She reached the study and opened the Professor's laptop.

First was Storm.

A picture of the white haired woman appeared on the left of the screen, and on the right, Professor Xavier had wrote his thoughts and experiences about and with Ororo. As she tried to pay attention to her reading Jean's eyes slipped for a moment to the bottom of the page. Next were Bobby, then Scott's files.

Rogue quietly made her way towards Logan's room.

It was a clouded night, no moon, not even a star glowed on the sky. Rogue walked in the dark alongside the walls to find her way through the immensity of the mansion. She thought about how much that man ment to her.

She had fallen for him ever since the adventure in the Statue of Liberty, when he had saved her life. Her love for him had burned with the same intensity even when he had left. She had thought of him for every day since his departure. For many nights she dreamed of him. Dreamed of his protective strong arms folded around her, dreamed and longed for his love. He had helped her so much in these past days. She feared to think what would have happend to her if he hadn't been there for her. If he hadn't been there to easen her pain and respond to her hugs.

She felt the two of them had gotten closer this past week like they had never been before. And what was until now just a dream, she now dared to hope upon. She dared to hope he could love her as she loved him. She dared to hope they could be together.

And she was going to unveil her love before him tonight. Better said, right now, when she met him. She silently prayed he would return her love.

She reached the living room. She had to go through it to get to the stairs that led to the upstairs, the third floor and Logan's room. Rogue stopped right before the door hearing soft moans from inside.

What was going on in there?

She thought she heard Logan mumble something.

Raising an eyebrow she slowly opened the door, only to be stunned by the sight before her eyes. Logan and Storm were kissing passionately, and were in quite a hurry to get their clothes off. No wonder Logan didn't hear her earlier, he had his head buried deep in

Storm's chest, apparently undoing her buttons with his mouth.

Rogue put a hand on her mouth and let out a gasp. Logan, hearing her, lifted his head and gazed at her. Storm, embarassed looked at Rogue, and then apparently found someting interesting on the floor and bowed her head, not lifting her gaze.

Tears formed behind Rogue's eyes. All that love that she carried inside herself for him now hurt her so much. She burst out crying and stormed out of the room.

"Kid, wait!" Logan began. But she had already disappeared. "Shit!" he cursed.

Rogue went weeping back to her room. She ran pained through the hallway, when she ran into Scott, who was, as usual, creeping around. He had his shades on, more out of habit than of need now.

His now usually unfocused eyes fixed her as he aked with concern.

"Rogue, are you alright? What happend?"

Through her sobs Rogue got out a low:

"I hate him!" and she continued the walk to her room.

Scott clenched his teeth. What had that irresponsible man done now! He knew what an

influence he had on the poor girl. It was time for a man to man talk with Logan.

Right then he noticed a shadow in the other end of the hallway.

"Andrew?"

The man in the shadows silently nodded, then said as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Let's go have that talk with Logan now."

Storm had already left when Scott entered the room.

"How the fuck could you be THAT careless Logan?" he said in a voice that Logan found a little different from what Scott normally sounded like.

Logan was a bit taken back by his use of daring words, but got back to being his usual go-fuck-yourself charming self in an instant.

"Go fuck yourself 'Cyclops'! It's none of yer damn business what I do."

"Oh but it is my business. It becomes my business when others get hurt by your cursed lack of respect for other people's feelings."

Logan got angry and stalked towards the man in front of him.

"The kid should know to how konck on a door before she enters a room!"

"You know how much Rogue is taken with you Logan. You didn't even tell her about you and Storm."

"Now I have to fill in a report every time I wanna fuck!"

"No, but it would have made things alot easier for her if you had just talked to her about it. You owed her at least that much: honesty! She's just a kid. You have no idea how hurt she must be right now!"

"I don't owe nothing to no one Scottie! Get that? Now get the fuck out of my way before I make you. I want to go to bed."

"Three wrongs in that sentence friend: One, you do owe Rogue." His eyes narrowed behind his shades. "Two, you cannot make me get out of your way." And with that he pounced rapidly at the other man throwing him to the floor, then hitting his head again and again to the floor. Then he pulled Logan's head up by his hair and whispered in his ear. "And three, I'm not Scott!"

Logan growled and sat up throwing the other man off his back, then he mounted on him and punched him in the temple. His glasses flew off and he turned his eyes towards Logan. They were as black as the night itself.

"What the fuck-" Logan's sentence was cut off by Andrew's head that connected with his mouth.

Andrew then engaged in a series of punches and kicks at the other man's head, slowly pushing him towards the window.

When he stopped, a dazed Logan was standing but inches from the window. An evil grin spread across Andrew's demonic figure as he pushed Logan through it. Although it was just second floor Logan took the hit bad and lost his consciousness. Andrew sat at the remains of the window and grinned again. His lips then formed a kiss towards the unconscious Logan.

Jean had just started to read Scott's file, when she heard a 'thump'. She decided to ignore it and went back to reading.

Upstairs Scott sat on the floor, his legs pulled to his stomach and his arms around his legs. He couldn't belive what had just happened. He was shaking, knowing he had just pushed himself over the edge.

Before him sat Andrew, a look of compassion in his eyes. He walked to the window and looked down.

"He's not getting up. I think he is dead."

Scott got out, between gasps, in a trembling voice.

"He...can't...die..."

"Maybe not, but you were just lucky it was him, and not someone else."

"You did it!" Scott acused. "You beat him up! You hurt him! Not me! You hurt him!"

"Yes, I did, but you could have stopped me at any time with just a thought. But you didn't did you? No! You enjoyed watching me beat the shit out of that arrogant bastard. You enjoyed his pain. Fed on it. You liked it. And you were too weak to supress this need for another's pain. You failed. You let your inner beast loose, and failed in stoping it. You failed your last great test."

Andrew then kneeled next to Scott and continued speaking to him. He told him about all the other failed tests throughout his whole life. Condemning him as he had every day for this past week. Unearthing his greatest fears, doubts and pains, and reminding him of his every failure. Just like he always did. Taking his precious time in slowly grinding Scott's heart, soul and sanity to crumbs.

Jean had just reached a paragraph that made her eyes widen as she read:

..."Ever since I first found Scott, he presented double personality tendencies. Since his early childhood, his rich imagination gave birth to Andrew. Andrew grew as Scott grew, and , with time he became a constant presence in Scott's thoughts, finally identifying with him at a very fragile age. Apparently Andrew is obsessed with perfection, responsability and has a strong sense of leadership and duty. Andrew has SUICIDAL tendencies, and sees in every failure a reason of self punishement. The greater the failure, the greater the self punishement he inflicts on Scott, and, of course himself as they are one and the same person. Most of the time Andrew will appear to Scott as an outside presence, but he is only an outer projection of the double personality of his mind and subconscious. When I found Scott I searched through his mind and I saw what Scott had gone through the three months that he spent in a comatose state. He had been locked inside his mind with Andrew the whole time. And Andrew held Scott responsable for his parent's deaths and for his brother's disappeareance. This was probably what Andrew imagined would be the greatest failure, so he tried to push Scott to his death. For three months Scott and Andrew fought over the fate of the small boy. Life fighting death. When Scott was finally stronger and he woke up I found him and quickly locked Andrew away. Andrew was beginning to have too much of an influence on Scott, and the last almost took his own life in several attempts. As Scott grew into Cyclops, so did Andrew grow. Although I locked him away and even made Scott forget he was there, he still influenced Scott on a subconscious level. He took every chance he had to express his cold logic and sense of duty. He helped Scott be the leader he is, he helped creating Cyclops.

I have had and am having weekly sessions with Scott, constantly reinforcing the cage that keeps Andrew at bay. But with every of Scott's failure's –few, but present nonetheless- he would grow stronger and stronger. If he should ever surface he would no doubt be a great danger not only to himself but also to those around him.

Andrew is growing stronger now, and so is his will of self punishement. I myself fear for Scott, knowing that if Andrew was ever to get out, he would surely kill Scott..."

Jean gasped in shock. How come she never sensed this Andrew? Was the professor that good? Scott would never think of suicide...would he?...

It was then that she finally realised that the link was shut off from Scott's end. She desperately sent her thoughts to him, to no success. She got up from behind the desk and ran out the door to her and Scott's room. She had to find Scott right away!

Upstairs Scott was rocking himself slowly, hitting his head to the floor.

Andrew was coming to the end of his long, painful speach.

"...and you see Scott, life is essentially meaningless, and suffering is the natural condition of all living things. There is no hope. There is no more hope for you. You have failed everyone and everything you ever loved or cared for. You have made your own suffering, like all living things sooner or later eventually do. Put a stop to it, Scott. Accept your destiny."

He threw the shaking Scott the sharp razor.

"Do now what you should have done a long time ago!"

Scott turned his blue eyes to the steel razor that was glittering, as if it was winking at him.

"I'm waiting, Scott. All those you have failed are waiting."

Scott took up the razor, watched it's sharp edge with fascination and put it against the veins on his left wrist.

Andrew watched in silence, his eyes narrowing.

In one celan move Scott sliced through skin, veins and flesh, so deep that the blade reached the bone and got stuck there. Scott felt like his wrist was on fire, but bit his lower lip to the blood and cut another deep line, forming a bloodied 'X' on his wrist.

"It took us six long days to shape your faith, Scott, and on the seventh, we can finally rest..."

He dropped the razor and slowly streched on the floor.His gazed remained fixed on the man called Andrew, and as life was slowly leaving his body, he saw Andrew fading too.

But he was fading so much slower than he was dying.

And that proved Scott that what they say it is true: evil does die harder.

A tear left Scott's eye and fell down his cheek, the first one he wept since childhood, and with it left all life from his pained and broken body, and all light left his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes...