A/N: Again, this is a reminder that you're entering spoiler territory of Dark Phoenix. If you have not yet watched the movie but are planning to, go ahead and bookmark/save this for later and read it after you have watched/know the story. You have been warned.

The setting takes event after the ending of the movie, probably after a couple of days where events are still fresh from their minds. What I'm hoping for here is to tackle that scenario. The worst things you'll probably experience in your life, especially to someone you care about, and then living out their moments days just after it happened.

Our friendly neighborhood Scott Summers would be my focal point this time around, so he's going to star in this. Expect probably some broodiness, a sob story, and probably a blossoming friendship towards the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or Marvel, I do own my OC though, and probably Tye Sheridan, but I might be given a restraining order because of that...

ANYWAY! Let's get on with the show!

These Days Were The Darkest

It was dark and raining outside the mansion, very typical recently as Scott thought about the recent events that happened to him the past couple of days. He peered through the window of his room, looking at the gentle drops plopping on the already forming puddles on the open garden. He didn't know why he wasn't able to sleep, the rain wasn't at all harsh— it was actually very peaceful and soothing. "Best way to end a day," Kurt Wagner would typically say to him when they end their classes.

He agreed. Scott would enjoy the rest of the day, or night at this point, sipping a hot cocoa in the kitchen, watching as some kids would pass by occasionally, grabbing a glass of water, or taking a bag of chips, just making a couple of small talks here and there to pass by time. He considered himself an older-brother figure among the people in the Institute, sometimes trying to console a problem or giving out advices whenever they asked for it, and he would gladly do so if it's needed. Sometimes it was just silence amidst the hum of the wind and raindrops. Entirely his ministrations would take a couple of hours, just a way to pass by the drizzle on a cold midnight until he would tire himself out and call it back to sleep.

This was not one of his days however. To be fair, he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while now, often contemplating if he would ask Charles to help him with his insomnia. He thought it was justified however. Living in the aftermath of it all led him to believe that these days were his darkest. It was hard for him not to anyway, stopping his thoughts from going back. It was like a film on red that was reeling the scenes over and over. The moment that Jean, the one who promised to come back to him, looked at him with sad eyes, as if she was utterly apologizing of the promise she had once kept, and then ascended into the boundless heavens like he regretfully wished so for her. After that it was like a snap, and then she was gone.

Scott loved Jean Grey, he really did. If there was a way to bring her back…

No. Of course it was impossible. Even if there were godlike mutants that could save the world from a planet invasion, there's literally no one in the world who could do such a feat like that. But that's when it slowly consumed him. Day by day he thought of recounting his steps, wanting to know if there was something that he did that could've changed what had happened. He wished he could've persuaded her not to go into the spaceship, or convinced her to come right back when they were at her father's house. There were times when he had this feeling that there was something wrong with her, but he shrugged it off like it was nothing when he could've asked her if she was alright. These small things are what kept him awake all this time.

It was like this never-ending itch on his back that was creeping along his spine, and somewhere he couldn't reach. This gnawing feeling of guilt and remorse and everyone in his subconscious all pointing at him that it was his fault. These were the thoughts that no teenager would ever want to have, but it infected him, and he feared that he wouldn't be able get out of it.

And so, like most rainy nights he spends, he was off his room in an instant and headed towards the side kitchen of the old mansion.

Opening up a pack of hot cocoa powder, he noticed on the edge of his sight bags of tea leaves that were placed collectively on a porcelain cup. And unlike many of his nights, he tried to do something different this time.

It was aromatic, not the typical ones he had been accustomed of, had a weird zesty taste that burned in a good way to his throat whenever he took sip. Still, he detests things bitter, yet he pushed through it. Some say it calmed the nerves and relaxes you, but so far it wasn't doing him any favors. This led him to wonder why Charles had always preferred tea, maybe because it's the Englishman in him... He took a few more sips until it was probably a half cup left.

It was maybe an hour looking at the clock that he noticed he wasn't visited by any night owls that were scouring about. Usually he would be greeted by a person once or twice by now. He assumed maybe the rainy night was just too good to sleep in and they wouldn't bother trekking the many halls of the school.

Until around the half-minute mark that he was glad someone had popped up.

It was a girl, maybe around the same age group as he was, wasn't familiar. Had blonde hair, freckled cheeks, heart-shaped face. She was wearing a dark sweatshirt and gym shorts. She waved 'hi' to him and he nodded with a small grin, continuing with getting a glass of water on the fridge.

It was quiet, the ambience was very soothing although he was still perturbed by his thoughts, this was the most relaxed he could get at this point, and he was satisfied with it.

"Uhm, you okay there?" She said so with a half-smile.

"No, I'm fine." He convincingly assured her, this time showing a little of his teeth. "Thanks for asking."

She stood there blankly, fridge open and a glass on hand, as if she was reading his mind. Oh no, not this again. He thought to himself. Soon as he did though, it was as if on cue that she gained back her senses, closed the fridge door and sat on the other end of the long table.

She was fiddling with her thumbs, biting her lip, hesitatingly wanting to open up a conversation, hopefully over a topic of her problems, and then he'd get on with it.

As time passed by she spoke.

"I… heard about what happened a few days ago." She said carefully. "I know you and Jean were close… I'm very sorry for your loss."

His smile faded. Scott tried to regain it for the composure, he really did. "Thank you. She… I mean, I hope she's in a better place."

He didn't think himself a holy person, it was just an automated response he'd been saying to everyone for the past couple of days.

"I…" She paused. "I'm going on a limb here, and I know we haven't really met, but it looked like you needed someone to talk to."

"What, you realized because you have empathy powers?" Scott said so deflectively. It was a good thing she didn't react negatively to it.

She even formed a grin, looking at her glass and tapping it with her fingers. "No. Nothing like that. No mind-reading either, I promise."

Oh, that took some relief off his chest.

"It would be fun though, right? Reading people's minds? Like Mr. Charles Xavier." She then said.

Jean Grey could read minds too he thought.

"Kinda intrusive, but it has its uses, I guess." Scott then answered. "So, uhh, how can you tell if I'm okay or not?"

She shrugged. "It's just a feeling." Her finger circled along the rim of the glass she was holding, contemplating. "I mean, I'm sorry if this would reopen any wounds, but you just lost someone very dear to you. And when someone's like that, I think I shouldn't allow that person to be alone, especially if he looked like he could use a little pick-me-up."

Scott didn't answer to that. Only ducked his head and was thankful she wasn't able to see the expression his eyes were hiding behind his glasses. She may already well be regretting her offer.

"… Do you want to be alone?" She said.

"I don't think so."

He reminisced the times that Jean would also arrive at the kitchen, grabbing whatever she could pull from the fridge, but she would stay and talk to him to kill the hours. He would almost always enjoy company. He had seemingly grown used to it.

And now, since she was gone…

Scott looked at his guest again, having a slightly cheerful disposition in a somber environment. She was trying hard too, he mused, and that made him curious.

"So, heat vison, right?" She wondered. It was usually one of the conversation starters with mutants. Something to break the ice. "Red beams, glowy eyes… that must've been something cool."

"Yeah, and you?" This was wonderful distraction he needed anyway, so he ventured.

"Nothing really grand, I tell ya." She wrapped her hands on the glass, as if trying to concentrate. As seconds pass, he was starting to notice that the transparent glass was starting to get misty, and then steam was coming out of it. When she was done she presented the glass, now warm and moist that hadn't look like it came from the fridge.

"I could simply regulate temperature over the things I touch," She grabbed the glass again, didn't mind if it was hot, but mist started to form again as moments passed by again and presented it to him. The water was now cold.

"Nice," Was really all he could comment. He was used seeing Storm, Beast, sometimes even Kurt on his day-to-day routine. In retrospect, he sometimes would even think that his powers pale in comparison to what they could do.

"Yeah, I know, some people just got it good." She commented. She wasn't at all hinting that she was jealous, she was even looking a little melancholic for some reason. It might have been a mutant thing, everyone in the Institute have powers or had something of their own quirk, so everyone was used to it. Some of the people flexed their powers a little more than they should've, but nothing really harmful comes out of it.

"It's a risk. Those 'cool' powers you think so highly of, a lot of it are sometimes even hard to control by others." Jean thought him that. Even once, he thought himself that.

"It's not so easy, is it? Being an X-Man." She said. "They think the whole world regards you as these heroes, but some of you are just kids like me and you, or teachers like Mr. Hank."

He chuckled lightly at the thought. "You got that right."

"But the amount of what you went through, just to save someone close to you…"

He again didn't answer that. What could he say? He just went through one of the most traumatic things he had ever encountered in his life… there is to say that there would be more, far worse things that's going to happen, and he dreaded the day it would come.

Noticing that Scott wouldn't reply, she adjusted her seat and positioned herself in a very relaxed kind of way.

"I used to have a boyfriend a couple of years ago," She started reminiscing. "Just got his driver's license. He wanted to celebrate and see if he could borrow his dad's Mustang for a joyride and take me somewhere along the West Coast. It was the end of summer that time, and soon we'll be going to college. I haven't decided yet where I was going, and he was sure he wanted to go here in the Institute. You see, he was a mutant too, was able to control electricity."

"His dad was okay with his powers. He was a good kid, I used to think so too. He was one of my neighbors, and one time back when we were children, I saw Mr. Xavier himself visiting him. His dad was there, loved him so much and not even for a second, rethink Charles' offer."

"What made him return to the decision before college?"

She ducked her head, smiling at some thought. "When he saw you in the news beating that villain back in Egypt, he once told me that he wanted to be just like you guys."

If someone with powers of electricity was in the school, he would've already caught whiff of it. That power was too good to pass up as an X-Men.

He assumed things weren't going to end well.

"It took a couple of days before we decided to stop by in Modesto to grab a bite to eat. It was some shabby diner in a shifty place, but it was cheap. We stayed there for a while, sometime past dinner. After that, things got worse. We were about to head off back to the car when we saw an old man getting mugged."

"He was a kind person. He wanted to help others. And so he jumped into the fray. He couldn't use his powers because of the hostage, and he really wanted to calm things down with the thug holding the man at gunpoint. Things got heated… and it escalated pretty badly. Knowing I was with him, the thug… he felt intimidated and pointed a gun at me and shot."

"What happened?" Scott was more worried than curious at this point.

"I was able to duck in time, hiding behind our car, but that distracted my boyfriend— he turned towards me, not knowing the thug aimed the gun at him and pulled another trigger, hitting him in the shoulder. The first time I saw him look at my face in horror and confusion. And then I heard another shot being fired. The second bullet knocked him off his feet."

"Shit… I— I'm so sorry…" He consoled.

"Mugger got away with a wallet but was caught a few hours after. It wasn't a big deal." Her lips formed a ghost of a grin, but you can clearly see the sorrow in her eyes. "This story wasn't much of a picker-upper, and I don't know why I'm telling you this…"

He also didn't know why either, but he understood the message. It was like the same situation with Jean's. He thought maybe, she also blamed herself because she was there. She wasn't able to do anything, just like he did, and wanted some kind of redemption for what had happened.

"He… didn't make it to the hospital. The day after, his dad arrived at Modesto."

He was just there, intently listening. His eyes were covered by his glasses and he appeared to be focusing on something else, but he was truly there, truly understanding and empathizing.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this, I—"

"No, it's okay." He stopped her from standing up, assuring her. This time, he really meant it. "I understand. You and I, what we've been through, it's not much different, and… thanks, for sharing it to me."

"Y—you do?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I— I'm…" He paused for a second, breathed out a sigh. "I can't help it either, thinking about her. It's just… the moment still feels fresh for me."

"That… This moment right now, this is the part where it's hardest." She contemplated it for a second, but then decided to reach out to Scott and held his hand as a sign of comfort. "But once that it's all over, when you take the last breath of burden and fully realized you allowed yourself to move on, it'll feel like you're brand new again." And then she smiled.

"Can't wait for that day to happen." he chided jokingly, and they both laughed.

One of the many burdens that lifted off his chest, not being able to laugh, and smile again. He's starting anew, and Scott felt like he was ready to pick up the pieces of himself again. Perhaps one day at a time. He let go of her hand, but he still retained the lilt of brightness in his face.

After a moment of light-headedness, he picked up that piece of his old self again, the one that was able to ask the true questions during his many nightly escapades. "What happened, after? And how did you decide to go to the Institute?"

"It was just a lot of time coping, days where I needed the distraction so I could let go the sadness that I felt. I chose to go here as part of my healing process. To be a bit more independent, to learn new stuff, and discover things about my powers. I think that's what he would've wanted. My parents were okay with it too, so I decided to go."

"And here you are now."

Her eyes focused back on the cup she was holding again. "And here I am now."

Funny how fate sometimes play with people. It was the perfect time, the perfect place for two unlikely persons that experienced the same issues in life came together. He was thankful that someone brought him who could understand what he was going through. Even at least, for a little while.

Healing process, huh…

She leaned over, reaching for the cup of tea that was left unsupervised for many a time now, and she reheated it with her hands, steam billowing over it as if it was just freshly made.

"It's a bit late already, maybe I should go back to bed now."

He looked at the time, and it was already way past midnight, the rain had already stopped and he didn't even notice. The frogs were starting to croak and the insects were starting to hum their tune again.

"Yeah, me too. Uh, hey wait!" He stopped her as she looked his way, almost leaving by the door. "I forgot to ask, what's your name?"

She gave him the first of many of her fullest smiles.

Abigail Autumn.

He had a lot to think about this, but for the first time ever, he felt satisfied. Sure it would take baby steps for him to move on, but he was hopeful. Especially after the talk that he just had.

Scott took a sip of his tea— warm, re-energized, still full of life after it was way past its use. Still a bit bitter, but he could allow himself to change it the next time he tries.

One thing's for sure is that he can guarantee he would have a himself a good night's rest this time around.

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