Disclaimer: Scott Summers and the X-Men belong to Marvel Comics and are being used without permsision. I am making no money from this story so please do not sue.
Authors note: I would like to thank Galaxia Alpha and Skyflare for beta reading this story. I wrote this story after Cyclops death, because I realized that I missed the big guy! Funny…I never liked him much before…I guess you only realize how much you actually like a character after he's gone J .
Anyway, on to the story…
Hero
By Faile
Finally, the fire was out. The once raging buildings sat in smolder, smoke still rising into the gentle rain. Scott sighed, half relieved, half frustrated. He wasn't really surprised when nobody helped, they usually didn't. What he couldn't believe was the hate he saw in their eyes. His shoulder still ached from the thrown rock.
The firefighters had started to attack the fire, yet when the X-Men had arrived, they pulled back. Scott had contemplated leaving and letting them deal with it, but the fire was large, consuming everything around it. If not for Storm's rain… and people were still inside. The X-Men couldn't leave them to die.
Besides, this is our town, Scott thought fiercely. We have spent too much time here, and at Harry's to let Salem Center burn down. He looked over to the restaurant, glad to find it untouched by the flames.
With the fire out, the crowd grew more brazen, flinging out curses, where they once were silent. The other X-Men gathered around Scott, awaiting the fight they felt was coming. The crowd watched the mutants gather, shifting in fear, even as they yelled louder. Scott snorted with disgust.
Sometimes I wonder why we keep fighting. Is there a point to it all? No matter how much good we do, there will always be people who want to stop us. I think things may be getting worse, not better. Why should we keep fighting, why should we bother when there will always be bigots to block our path? Why?
A disturbance in the crowd distracted Scott from his thoughts. A young girl, not even Jubilee's age, was pushing her way through the crowd, toward Scott.
"Cyclops, sir!" she called out. "Don't leave yet, sir!" She made her way through, finally stopping in front the X-Man. "Sir," she said, staring up at him awe in her eyes. "Thank you. I…umm…I wanted to give you this." She pressed a piece of cloth into his hand. She half-turned to leave, then turned back, quickly giving him a brief hug. "Thank you," she whispered again. Before Scott could respond, she had pulled away and disappeared into the crowd.
As the X-Men walked back to the Blackbird, Scott looked at the cloth, startled to find words sewn onto the scrap. He read them, disbelieving what he saw. Then he smiled. Why, Scott? he thought, that's why. He traced the words with his finger.
He read the cloth on more time: #1 Hero. Cyclops of the X-Men.