A/N: This started off as random drabbles I was attacked (yes, attacked) with in the middle of four different nights. I wrote them down and they made little sense till I put them together. Just to be difficult I put them going backwards in time.
Summary: You can't always get that fairy-tale ending. It doesn't stop him from trying. (Snippets from Scott's life)
Warnings: Swearing.
Please don't flame if you dislike the way I've portrayed Scott (or the rescuee).
Changing the Story
Present time: 2066
The stairs go on forever, spiralling upwards steeply. His breathing is coming in harsh, ragged pants. He doesn't dare stop. I don't care how good the re-enactments are. I'm never coming here again! He uses the narrow walls for supports, practically trying to claw his way upwards. The spreading flames below are slowly disappearing from view and when he finally, finally reaches the top he can see the bright blue sky (fluffy clouds and all), out the stone arch way. He thinks, for a moment, that he's literally ascended from hell.
He bends over double, gasping desperately, gripping his knees. His head is swimming. He glances up and his heart pretty much stops when a dark shadow falls over his heaven backdrop. This is it. This is the end. That is, until a man descends into view. A man dressed in blue. Blue jumpsuit, blue sash, blue hat, blue…eyes.
"Hello, I'm here to rescue you," is all Mr Blue says before he reaches out to him. He's escaped hell, he's staring salvation in the face and all he can think is:
Damn he's cute.
xxx
Childhood : Wednesday
His brother had come to him in the middle of the night, calling him 'Scotty' and asking to 'sleep here tonight' and he had grudgingly shuffled over to make room. Grudgingly, because he wanted to be alone right now. Because he felt miserable and wished he had a big brother to go to when he felt scared and hurt and lost. But he was a good big brother and his little brother needed him.
And that's why they were snuggling close. And if his head was resting on his brother's shoulder it was because the younger boy needed anchoring to reality. The fingers running through his hair were because his brother need to know he was there. (And if that hand had wiped away any tears on its way up, it had been by accident.) The soft mutterings of 'It's okay' was to reassure himself. And the arm wrapped around him tightly was because his brother needed comfort. And if, right now, that hold was the only thing keeping him together, well, that was an accident too.
xxx
Tuesday
His heart was pounding. His palms were sweaty. His mind was racing.
And there was Ben. Looking right at him. Concern in his bright blue eyes.
"Are you alright?"
He licks dry lips. Then nods weekly. They're close.
He can't hear a damn thing. No birds in the trees. No kids yelling. Not even his thumping heart.
So close. And he can feel his breath.
Smell his deodorant.
Touch his sweater.
Taste his lips.
"The fuck you doing?"
He's falling back. Hard.
He tastes blood in his mouth, touches his check and smells the grass he's landed on.
He feels dead inside.
xxx
Monday
"I think he's asleep," he whispers. They're on either side of the now slumbering red-head. Scott, who receives no reply, smiles softly at his two peaceful brothers, spread out on their father's bed. Their father who is away on business. Japan? Britain? Outer Mongolia? He'd lost track.
"Why?"
Apparently Virgil's not as asleep as he looks.
"Because he's tired and I read him a story," he replies, bewildered at the question.
"Why's it a Princess?" Virgil elaborates.
"What?"
"In the story, why's it a Princess? Why's it a girl?"
"Well what self-respecting parent calls their son, Rapunzel?" He snorts at the idea.
Virgil lifts his head up from his pillow long enough to give him a hard look: 'That's not what I mean and you know it'
Scott sighs. "It's just a story, Virg."
"One of thousands." He says nothing, looking down at the worn book in his lap. His brother presses him, "Why does the Knight always fall for the chick?"
"That's just how the story goes, Virg." He's hopping for light-hearted. He doesn't achieve it.
"Maybe you should change it."
It sounds like a challenge and Scott Tracy doesn't back down from a challenge.
"Yea. Maybe I will."
Thank you for reading. This is my first try so please point out anything I've missed. I based the date off of 'Action Alert' by Joan Marie Verba.