Bottled Up, a x-men: evolution fanfic

My friend just recently got me hooked on the X-men evolution series, I collect just regular x-men comic books of all kinds. She lent me the entire series on dvd and for the past week you could find me infront of the television watching and re-watching the shows. Finally I decided to challenge myself, I picked cyclops or Scott Summers to write a story about. I've always enjoyed this character, especially in thr movies,but inx-men evolution he was so dry and boring, really one sided with a stick up his ass. So I decided to make this depressing.I have no idea how the ending came about.

Disclamer: x-men evolution and all it's characters are ownedby Marvel, I'm just a depressing writer out to make the world a darker place(laughs)

Warnings: mentions of rape, some language, hints of suicide, self-injury, just some very depressing stuff.

Please R and R

Sitting on the counter in the kitchen, Scott took another bit of his green apple, letting the bitter yet sweet taste to overwhelm his senses. His shaggy brown hair had grown out of its normal clean cut over the course of the summer, but it really didn't matter.

School was finally over and the summer break was in full swing, pick up games of soccer and football were running wild, Mutant ball was a favorite. None of this appealed to Scott, even the girls out by the pool in their swimsuits, even Jean in a bikini didn't excite him.

The bulky visor, usually used for missions, now took the place of Scott's normal sunglasses. Ever since the beginning of summer break, where he almost killed that little girl when some random stranger had knocked off his glasses, he had changed, and not for the better. He completely refused to take off the visor, even to shower or sleep. He rarely slept though, so it didn't matter much.

Flashback

"Wahoo!" Kurt yelled, "School's officially over!"

Scott laughed at the antics of his friend, he smiled at Jean, "In celebration of this day, I'll buy ice cream!" heading towards his car, Kurt jumped up front, Jean, Kitty, and Rogue sat in the back. Scott wished Jean was up front with him so he could see her hair flying in the wind since the car was a convertible.

When they reached the outdoor ice cream stand, Kurt jumped happily out of the door, "I'm first!" He yelled, his accent making the whole effect even funnier.

Scott shook his head and got out, the girls piled out of the back of the car, all windblown, but still smiling. Even Rogue looked happy for once. Who could feel sad on the last day of school?

After ordering his chocolate ice cream, Scott snagged a picnic table away from most of the other tables. After a few minutes of contented licks and 'yums,' Kitty somehow managed to drop some ice cream onto Kurt's shoes, somehow Scott knew it wasn't an accident.

With a sigh, he got up from his spot next to Jean and went up to grab some napkins, he wasn't over-cautious, and he wasn't ready for the mad with two ice cream cones, one in each hand, to turn quickly, knocking Scott's ruby quartz glasses off his face with his elbow. Immediately a beam flew from Scott's open eyes before he could squeeze them tightly shut.

A little girl, who was waiting for her father, who was the man with the two ice cream cones, to bring her icy treat, was sitting on a picnic table, all of a sudden she saw a butterfly about three feet away from her current position, and even though her daddy told her not to move, she left the table. A move that saved her life. Scott's stray beam hit the table, causing it to splinter and crack.

Scott fell to the ground, hands clamped tightly over his eyes, he could hear the pandemonium going on around him. A little girl was crying, people yelling, 'Mutant scum,' screaming from smaller children. Madness. The first foot hit him, he wasn't ready for it, but he somehow kept his eyes closed. Another foot kicked him; he was ready for the impact. Another, another, another, with each blow that hit him, a bruise was beginning. Scott felt a rib crack under an extremely hard kick, probably from the angry father. It was five whole minutes until the other x-men could rescue Scott from the angry mob, five whole minutes of hell.

End Flashback

Sighing with the memory, Scott shook his head to clear it, it had been two weeks and the bruises had begun to fade, but scars in his mind still remained fresh. Painful scars. He shared this with no one, not even the professor. He couldn't show weakness, he was stone, strong, emotionless, and unmoving.

His wardrobe had changed, in some people's opinions, for the better. Instead of preppy turtlenecks, he now wore a lot of dark colored t-shirts and sleeveless tops. Baggy jeans of black or blue were a daily thing now. He was a different teenager than he had been during school, just a minute of weakness, of not paying attention, of not being careful. He wasn't Scott anymore, he was someone totally different and people were starting to notice.

His normally rather pale skin had paled even more from the lack of sleep and from not going outside. Most of the time he hid away in his room, reading a thick novel or textbook, which helped take his mind off his misery. He knew it wasn't healthy, and that he wouldn't be in good shape when the Danger room sessions started up again tomorrow, but he didn't care. He was just……just so very tired.

Sliding to the edge of the counter, he dropped skillfully to the floor and threw out his apple core. Reaching into the fridge, he grabbed a bottle of water and began to retreat back to his room. 'Time to go back into hiding,' he thought bitterly.

He had begun to hide the fact that he didn't eat much any more by putting on a big show when he did, when he did this, his body usually rejected it when he made it back upstairs. No one knew how much weight he had truly lost since he was wearing such baggy clothing.

Scott sighed, entering his room he laid down on his bed but he couldn't fall asleep. Maybe he just wasn't tired, though he was in dire need of sleep. The fact that no one could see his eyes, because of the visor he wore, hid the fact that he had large dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He was on the verge of collapsing and he knew it, but he also knew he had too much pride than to ask for help. No one could see him when he was weak.

Shaking his head he sat up and grabbed his latest read, a Stephen King novel. The morbidness appealed to him. Flipping the page, he felt bile beginning to rise in his throat; he shouldn't have eaten that apple earlier. Dropping his book, he rushed into the bathroom and threw up all the contents of his stomach, which really wasn't much.

Wiping his mouth on his arm, Scott found himself leaning heavily against the wall, waiting for his shivering to go away. This happened every time, the hot and cold flashes, he knew there was something wrong with him. "Shit," he muttered, after a few minutes he shakily got to his feet and went over to the sink, splashing some cold water on his face almost made him feel normal. Almost.

Slumping tiredly onto his bed, Scott slipped into an uneasy light slumber. He couldn't keep up this facade forever, he knew, but for now it was all he had to hold onto. The next thing he knew, someone was knocking on his door, "Scott," It was Jean, "The Professor sent me to tell you its dinnertime."

Shaking his head to rid it of the fuzziness of sleep, he stumbled over to his shirt pile and pulled a clean long sleeved baggy black shirt on. Leaving his feet shoeless, he opened the door to see that Jean had already headed downstairs, he was disappointed. Walking down the stairs, he paused momentarily in front of the big mirror and tried to get some of his wild hair to lie flat, it was no use. He looked like a wreck.

Stalking into the kitchen, he noticed it silent, 'oh great,' he thought, 'more talk about me.' Pulling up a chair at the end of the table which rewarded him with some strange looks since he always sat next to Jean or the Professor at the front of the table, he sipped a glass of water. Eventually the conversation picked up again, but Jean and the Professor seemed deeply in thought-conversation. Not very polite.

After a few minutes of not looking at anyone, he cleared his plate, on which he didn't have anything to start with, and grabbed a bottle of water. He supposed it was all the water he had been drinking which was keeping him functioning. Quiet footsteps followed him into the kitchen, he whirled around, oh, it was just Jean.

"Hey Scott," she said with a small smile, a sad smile, "are you okay, you've been acting rather strange lately."

Scott felt terrible; he made this wonderful red haired angel sad, he didn't deserve her to even speak to him. Lying just made him feel worse, but it's what he did. "I'm just tired, haven't been sleeping too well." It wasn't totally a lie, but it wasn't even close to the full truth.

"Oh, well I have some over the counter sleep meds if you want them," Jean replied, smiling her delicate smile, her angelic smile.

"Sure," Scott replied without hesitation, though he knew he wasn't going to use them.

Jean nodded, "I'll bring them by your room later, okay?"

Scott nodded this time, and then with a half smile he headed back to his room, his lonely solitary confinement. While Scott did this, Jean cursed his mental shields, she couldn't read his thoughts. He was very careful, too careful. Too secretive, it was just not Scott-like to do such a thing.

A dizzy spell hit Scott halfway up the stairs, he grabbed onto the banister for support, hoping no one would pass by until he could move again. He lucked out, everyone was still eating dinner, and he slumped down to sit on one of the steps and closed his eyes. After a minute or so, the dizziness stopped, this was the longest spell so far. "Damn, this isn't good."

Getting to his feet, Scott walked slowly up the rest of the steps. Staggering to his room, he collapsed in a heap on his bed, not moving. The voice in his head began taunting him again, 'you loser, you screwed up again. Couldn't you have tried something better for a cover-up than "oh I'm not sleeping well," how pathetic, just like you. You'll never be close to her level, she's a goddess, and you're just some screwball orphan kid who can't even look a girl in the eyes without blowing her head off.'

Scott curled up in a ball, the voice becoming louder and louder, clearer until it was only what he heard. 'You're a useless waste of flesh; you should just end it now and save everyone else the trouble. I don't even understand why Xavier took you in; he must have felt bad for you. You can't do anything right, just like you saw two weeks ago at the ice cream place, you can't even get some napkins without almost killing someone. Just wait, eventually you will kill someone, you really should just kill yourself before it happens, because you know it will. You'll slip up. Maybe it'll be Jean, or the Professor, or Kurt, or Kitty, or Rogue, or any of the younger kids. It could be a total stranger, a small child, an elderly man bringing flowers home to his ailing wife.'

Scott pushed his hands against his ears, but the voice wouldn't leave. 'Do it Scott, do it. You have the means, do it! DO IT YOU FOOL!' Scott glanced over at his dresser, at his sock drawer, where he kept it. He kept a razor. The one the voice told him he should keep it on him at all times, the one the voice was telling him to use to end his life, his misery. He was nothing but a freak of nature, no one could love him. But now wasn't the time. Maybe another day, but now he just couldn't even bring himself to look at the shiny metal. He was afraid the voice would take over and go through with it.

Getting up, he began to pace the length of his room, he had to do something, get out of there. He was going mad. He was mad, he was crazy, and he was a danger to everyone. He pushed back the voice; he pushed back all the rash plans that sprung up in his mind. He had to stay, it was his duty. He plopped violently to the floor, letting his head snap back against the bed. After a few seconds of thought, he reached under his bed and pulled out a box filled with CD's, Rogue gave him some of her 'alternative' music for his birthday, he liked it, but he knew it didn't fit his image. Now he wanted to listen to it, let it fill him up inside.

Getting up again, he pushed the CD into the mouth of the CD player, it was all set, he turned it up to medium level of sound, no use of someone telling him to shut it off because it was so loud. Music began blaring from the speakers, his angry music. The music which yelled to the world what was wrong with him.

And I've begun my misery

I celebrate my death annually

And with no control

I watch my grave grow deeper

(What is wrong with me...)

And while walking towards it

I trip and fall

I sit awake to prevent from falling

And while lying awake I see a door being shut

I begin to suffocate as I gasp for breath

And as I look over my lifeless body

I think to myself

Is this how it ends?

A life composed of misery, a life that trapped me

(The life that killed me)

(The Birth of Catastrophe by: With Broken Wings)

Meanwhile……….

Sitting in the Professor's office, Jean curled her long pale legs up under her, feeling the warm leather sticking to her skin. She had chosen her chair, the most comfortable one in the room, it was brown and worn, if she didn't like it so much, she was sure the Professor would have gotten rid of it ages ago. It was her sanctuary. She only came here when something was bothering her and she had to think it out. That problem she was so deep in thought about was a Mr. Scott Summers.

You see, Scott had always been a mystery to her, eluding her probing mind, her questions about his past, and what he was feeling. She just didn't understand him at all and that bothered her. A bead of sweat rolled down her nose, she idly rubbed it off. Something was wrong with Scott, and that she was sure of. She knew he didn't like Duncan, her latest flame, but that couldn't be it. Maybe it was…..No. Could it be…….No once again. Running her hand through her thick red hair, she growled in frustration, it was so like Scott to be so…….unpredictable.

He had lost weight, but she didn't know how much, even the Professor was concerned about that, unfortunately Hank was out of town for the week, so he couldn't check to see if Scott was suffering from an illness. He had stopped hanging around his friends here, was it something they did? Did Kurt play an awry prank? No, Scott would never get mad over something as silly as that, anyways, Kurt was like a little brother to him. There had to be something. She came up blank, nothing. Oh well, she'd find out soon, she just knew it. The Professor wouldn't break through Scott's tight mind shields, even though he easily could. Scott was like a son to him and he refused to intrude on his privacy. If Scott needed help, he'd have to ask for it.

A knock resounded from the door, and Kitty popped her head in. "Hey Jean, Kurt said I'd like find you in here. We wanted to know if you wanted to go swimming and then to the movies, like that new flick, Summer Breeze with that like totally dreamy actor whatshisface is in it and I've been sooooo dieing to see it." Kitty said all of this in one breath.

Jean stared at her interesting friend for a moment, "Eh……Sure."

"Okey dokey then, we'll meet out by the pool in like ten minutes, I'm so wearing that cute little pink two piece that I bought like last week at the mall." Kitty yelled, skipping out of the room, Jean just shook her head and got out of her comfy chair, there was fun to be had.

Meanwhile……

"Logan, I am worried about Scott," the Professor sighed, "He's been acting odd lately."

"I know what you mean Chuck, but he's probably fine, probably just miss' in school or somethin' Scooterish, ya know what I mean. A goody two shoes like him had ta have a good reason for behavin' like he has been." Logan replied, "Always a bit strange."

Charles sighed again, rubbing his head with his hands, he knew something was wrong, and he was tempted to just tear down his blockers and read his mind, but he wouldn't. It was up to Scott to come to him when he had a problem, or he had to sort it out on his own,. He had raised the boy since he was eleven, and even when he was blind before he received his ruby quartz glasses, he had always been independent and self-sufficient. He guessed it was from being tossed around from foster home to foster home when he was younger.

There was most something wrong with Scott Summers, if only he knew what it was.

Meanwhile…..

When Kurt knocked on Scott's door, he wondered if it was actually Rogue's room with the creepy heavy-metal music playing, but he was in the boy's wing, so it couldn't be. "Helloooo Cyke, you in here?"

"Huh, Kurt?" Scott muttered, sitting up from where he was slumped next to his bed.

"What are you doing down there mien friend, the bed is up there", Kurt pointed towards Scott's unmade bed; making a face, the furry blue mutant noted that Scott's room was messier than his.

"Just looking for something under my bed," Scott answered quickly, like he was covering something up. Like he was lying.

"Oh I see," Kurt paused, "Kitty and Jean wanted to know if you wanted to go out and swim and then go to the movies, there's some dumb chick flick they want to see."

"I'd love to, but I think I'm going to go work out, you know our first Danger Room session is tomorrow, and I've been slacking off." Scott said with a hint of a smile, a cold smile.

Kurt shivered, why did Scott's look scare him so much? His fur stood on end slightly, like he was cold. "Okay, but don't work too hard Oh Fearless Leader," Kurt joked. Scott didn't laugh. "See ya around," Kurt quickly stammered, and then teleported away. Scott sighed, crawling onto his bed he found himself engrossed in thought, bad thought.

Scott found himself drifting off, so he slipped into slumber, a restless one at the best. He didn't hear when Logan knocked at the door because he was reliving the incident, the one which occurred two weeks ago, it was happening the same, but differently in his dream.

Dream Mode

"Wahoo!" Kurt yelled, "School's officially over!"

When they reached the outdoor ice cream stand, Kurt jumped happily out of the door, "I'm first!" He yelled, his accent making the whole effect even funnier.

Scott shook his head and got out, the girls piled out of the back of the car, all windblown, but still smiling. Even Rogue looked happy for once. Who could feel sad on the last day of school?

The little girl standing a few feet in front of him looked forlornly at him as the beam seemed to move in slow motion, "Why Mister? Why me? I didn't do anything to you.'

Her blonde curls radiated red as the beam got closer, her eyes seemed to shrink back in her head, making her look more like a skeleton more than a little girl, "WHY WHY DID YOU KILL ME SCOTT MATHEW SUMMERS, YOU KILLED ME NOW I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. I HATE YOU, JUST GO DIE!"

Scott looked at the girl, shaken, he could see her even though his eyes were firmly shut. The beam hit her dead on and she screamed. She seemed to explode, her little arm went to the left, her foot to the right, and her head landed right in front of him. Her eyes staring vacantly at him, her mouth opened, instead of a little girl voice, he heard The Voice.

"I told you Scottie, I told you to kill yourself when you had the chance, but you wouldn't listen. You were afraid, and now look, she's dead and it's all your fault. You killed her, you killed her, YOU KILLEN AN INNOCIENT LITTLE GIRL THAT NEVER DID A THING TO YOU! YOU MONSTER! YOU ABOMINATION! YOU SHOULD BURN IN HELL! KILL YOURSELF, SAVE OTHERS THE TROUBLE, YOU AREN'T NORMAL, YOU'RE A FREAK, A DANGEROUS DEADLY COLD CRAZY LITTLE FREAK. YOU ARE A KILLER, YOU KILLED HER, YOU KILLED ME YOU WILL KILL US ALL! WE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING, YOU WANT TO KILL EVERYONE YOU LOVE, EVERYONE WHO IS INNOCIENT, UNLIKE YOU, DON'T YOU? YOU FAILED AT LIFE, YOU'RE NOT A HERO, YOU'RE A ZERO. JUST GIVE IT UP AND DIE ALLREADY."

End Dream Mode

"I'm sorry," Scott sobbed, "I'm sorry." Sobbing harder he kept whispering, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

Then a shaking knocked him out of his dream-state, a gruff voice quietly said, "Scooter, wake up, it's only a nightmare. CYKE, wake the hell up!" It was Logan.

"Wha," Scott said, sitting up. He saw the fuzzy image of the ill-tempered Canadian sitting beside him. Attempting to stop shaking, he sat up, and was hit by a wave of dizziness.

This was one time he was happy he couldn't actually cry, when his mutation developed, he found his tears were simply smashed into nothingness, "Oh it's just you Logan," Scott said after a few seconds after his head stopped spinning, "shit sorry."

"You okay kid, it seemed like you were havin' one heck of a bad dream there," Logan said gruffly, not letting on the fact that he was concerned.

"Yeah, I don't really remember it," Scott lied through his teeth; Logan fought back the need to growl. "I'm fine now, thanks."

"You sure. Ya know I bet Chuck could just……." Logan was cut violently off by Scott.

"NO! I'm fine, I'm just tired, haven't been sleeping well." Another lie upon Scott's behalf.

"Okay then, ya know, you might want to tell chuck you're fine, he's worried about you," Logan grinned slightly, getting up, he ruffled the boy's messy brown hair, "get some sleep, would ya, I'm gonna work you pansies hard tomorrow." And with that he left.

Scott sighed, ready for another sleepless night.

Meanwhile…….

"That was like such a good movie," Kitty chirped happily, still munching away on her popcorn in the back of Jean's hard topped jeep.

"Ja, it was," Kurt agreed. It was rather romantic, and the lead actress reminded him of Amanda, he just imagined it was him in the place of the leading male actor.

Jean didn't really pay attention to the movie; her thoughts were in a darker place than the movie plot. "It was okay," she remarked finally.

"Is something on your mind?" Kurt blurted out suddenly.

After a few seconds of consideration, Jean asked, "has Scott been acting kind of weird lately?"

Kitty thought back on the last few weeks, as did Kurt, "Ja, not that I think about it, he has." Kurt said quietly.

Kitty nodded slowly, "yeah, he's been like a whole different person."

"At least it wasn't only me who noticed," Jean said thoughtfully, "What do you think is wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Kurt replied truthfully, "could he be sick, like the flu or something?"

"I don't think so Kurt, personally, I think he's totally depressed about something." Kitty stated, "It's so weird, he's so……..unlike Scott now."

"I know exactly what you mean!" Jean exclaimed. "He's been so cold and distant, almost like he's afraid to be around us."

"Yeah!" Kitty and Kurt agreed at the same time.

"We must find out what's wrong with him, I miss zee old Scott," Kurt said sadly. "He used to be so fun to joke around with and now….."

"I know Kurt, I know," Jean assured quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to flow out of control.

The alarm's annoying buzz came too soon for Scott, who had just fallen asleep at 4:00 a.m. With a yawn, looking at the clock, he saw it read, 6:00, 'Great,' he thought bitterly, 'I've averaged three hours of sleep within two days.' Groaning with the effort, he rolled off the bed and landed with a thud on the cold hard floor which woke him up.

Staggering to his feet, he had to sit down on his bed again as a wave of dizziness passed over him once again. It was getting worse.' Why must the world always screw me over?' He thought angrily.

Throwing on his uniform, he shook his head as he looked in the mirror, he was a wreck. With a shrug he stumbled out of his room and down the stairs. He reached the elevator at the same time as Rogue, he cursed his luck.

"Hey Rogue," he simply stated, getting onto the elevator, he leaned his head against the cool metal.

"Ya all right there Cyke? Yer lookin a bit sick." Rogue asked in a rare moment of concern for her leader. Everyone knew she had a thing for him, but they didn't know she still wasn't over him completely, though her feelings towards him were more sisterly than romantic. A Cajun with red and black eyes was higher on her list to get to know.

"Yeah, just tired," Scott sighed, standing up straight; he grimaced at how tight his muscles were from sitting on the hard floor all night to keep him awake so the dreams wouldn't start again.

Rogue nodded as the elevator dinged, signaling that they had reached their destination. Rogue slipped quickly off the elevator and began stretching in preparation to enter the danger Room as soon as the rest of the team showed up.

Scott sat tiredly down on a pile of floor mats, shaking off the feeling that something bad was going to happen today. He simply chalked it up to his new life patterns; you would think having a voice in your head telling you to kill yourself would be refreshing, wouldn't you?

Rogue glanced over at Scott, something wasn't right. She had heard all the rumors, but that's all they were. Rumors. She wanted to know the truth because people were saying things anywhere from him having Cancer to him secretly sneaking out at night with his gay lover. What people think of, though she was rather amused at the thought of Fearless having a gay lover, or him going to rave clubs, or him being brainwashed by aliens. She shook her head, time to focus; she could worry about Scott later.

Meanwhile……

"Chuck, you're right, something's wrong with Scooter, I just don't know…."

"What do you mean Logan?"

"I went to his room last night, around 10:00 to see if he wanted to talk, but he was sleeping, he didn't hear me come in."

"And," The Professor prompted.

"And he was having a terrible nightmare, yelling out in his sleep, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it." Does that make any more sense to you then it does to me?"

"It might……But I'm not sure, I'll have to look into it."

"'K ya pansies, vacation's over, time to get back to work," Wolverine smiled viciously, everyone knew they'd be feeling the wraith of this workout tomorrow.

After a few simple sprints and other calisthenics, they were ready for their simulation battle, everyone was eager, except Cyclops, but he didn't show it.

The simulation was medium level, not too hard, but it had been awhile since they last practiced, so all of them were a bit out of shape. The mission was simple, get through the door of a heavily armed FOH (friends of Humanity, a mutant haters community which recently sprung up) base. The layout consisted of guns mounted on the sides of the driveway, woods surrounding the area covered in security cameras and random motion censored laser guns.

The building was large, but the target they had to get to was the front door, which was also heavily armed. The biggest gun, motion censored, heat seeking, really not a plaything, was sitting in the center of the circle driveway.

Shaking his head to ward off a dizzy spell, he barely dodged a shot from a laser cannon. "I'm too slow!" He mumbled angrily to himself.

"Jean!" Cyclops yelled, motioning towards the cannon, she complied with the gun imploding, 'she has been practicing,' Cyclops noted.

"Shadowcat!" He called, the girl ran over and grabbed his arm and phased him through the wall, Nightcrawler followed with Jean and Rogue. They were safe for now.

"What next Cyke?" Nightcrawler asked, Cyclops was at a loss, his brain too fuzzy to think straight. 'I'm just tired,' he thought viciously, 'nothing's wrong with me. I'll just have to try harder.'

"Jean, Nightcrawler, take the left, Shadowcat, Rogue, take the right. I'll take out the Main Gun." Everyone nodded, except Jean.

"Are you sure…" She started, but Cyclops cut her off.

"I've got it, now MOVE!" He snarled angrily, Jean stepped back, frightened by his outburst.

He ran out of the cover low to the ground, dodged a bolt of virtually harmless electricity, rolled to his feet and kept going. The others were in position, waiting for his orders, when he felt it. It felt like all strength he had slipped away like water, a dizzy spell hit at the same time. His head felt like someone was taking a hammer to it violently; every fiber in his being was shaking. He collapsed ungracefully to the cold metal floor.

"END SIMULATION!" He heard Logan's gruff voice yell over the din of noises. Jean screamed and Kurt ported over to him, Logan reached his prone figure first, just as he began to come back to his senses.

The older man kneeled by him, "Scott, you okay kid?"

Blinking rapidly, Scott noticed his vision had returned to normal, the echo in his head had died down, but a blinding headache remained. The dizziness was almost gone as well, but still present enough to make his head buzz. The shaking was still there, but he pushed past his pain and nodded, pushing himself into a sitting position though his body protested.

Logan moved to help him, but he pushed him away with all the force he could muster. Looking around he saw his team looking at him in fear, fear for him. Or was it fear from him? Was there a difference anymore?

'They all are scared of you Scott,' The Voice said evilly in his head, 'they all hate you, they want you dead, as do everyone else in this whole world. Look at all the trouble you are causing them.'

"I'm fine," Scott managed, attempting to stand up, but Logan pushed him back down.

"I think we should call Hank and ask him to come back here," Logan said, Scott saw Jean nod in agreement in the background. Anger flashed before his eyes.

"I'M FINE DANMIT! JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!" Scott yelled, staggering to his feet. He had to get out of here before the Professor could answer Jean's psychic summons he knew she had sent out. The man could stop him easily in his tracks with his mind. 'Then my mind-shields would fail,' Scott thought desperately to himself, 'then he'd know the truth. He'd know how weak and pitiful I really am. That can't happen.' He refused to let the man he looked up to as a father figure to find out how messed up his protégé really was.

Running the best that he could manage, the room spinning madly out of control, Scott sprinted for the fire stairs. The Professor would come down the elevator, by that time Scott would be gone.

"Scott STOP!" He heard Jean yell. "Please stop!" she wouldn't stop him though, in fear of hurting him, in fear of him hurting her or someone else.

"Get back here kid!" Logan yelled, sprinting after him. But he had the better lead, all of a sudden Logan stopped, 'The Professor must have commanded him to let me go,' Scott thought after the heavy pounding footsteps behind him stopped.

Pounding up the stairs, he exited before he reached the main floor. He was in the garage, smiling he reached his car and felt around under the steering wheel for his spare set of keys. They were there; Scott slumped down in his seat, and after some struggling, got the keys in the ignition. He was so tired; he needed a place to rest.

Slamming on the accelerator, he raced out of the automatic censored garage door which opened as soon as the car began moving. Looking from the window, the Professor saw a small red sports car race down the driveway, its strong engine, which the boy he thought of as a son, had installed the previous fall, making quick due of the expanse of driveway. Soon he'd be on the open road.

With a sigh, he turned to see a grim looking Logan and his frightened students. "Logan, take the van, find him. Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Rogue, don't leave the house. I'm not sure I know what's wrong with Scott….But it's probably better that you stay out of it." Jean made to protest, but Xavier held up his hand, this wasn't up for discussion. "I'll call Hank from his conference, and I'll contact Ororo at her relative's house and see if she could cut her trip short."

"Okay Chuck," Logan growled, the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. Something bad was about to happen, he could feel it.

"Oh and Logan," Xavier said quietly, "Please don't hurt him."

Logan nodded, he knew he could never hurt Scott-as annoying and sometimes irrational and stubborn the boy was-he knew deep down that he cared for the boy. He was like the family he never had, or didn't remember that is. Shaking him from his thoughts, Logan strode across The Professor's office, heading down the stairs; he was surprised to run into Jean.

"Logan, I know how much you and Scott don't get along, but…….He needs your help. He isn't the same, so……Well please don't do something stupid, and I pray to God he doesn't do something of the sort." A tear rolled down her face, and Logan knew he was going to help Scott, no matter the cost.

"Okay Jeannie, I'll get Scooter back. You'll see, he'll be fine, you'll see." Logan moved around the redhead, wishing he could do more to console her, it hurt him so to see her cry, but Scott was getting farther and farther away and time was running out.

Meanwhile……

Rushing along the road at a speed of at least twenty or more miles over the speed limit, Scott felt the anger fade away, fear replaced it, as did self-hatred. "I could have asked for help! It was so easy but I was too weak to do it!" After a second he pulled over to the side of the road and pulled the change of clothes he had in his glove compartment out and changed out of his uniform as not to attract any more attention than necessary. As soon as he had his shirt on and jeans zipped up he was speeding along again.

The road signs whizzed by, but Scott paid no attention, a horn blared; he had went through a stoplight. Soon he was on the freeway, zipping between large trucks. More horns blared, but Scott didn't care. Reaching for the button on his CD player, he turned the volume up.

Regrets
I am away I froze, I froze
(So frozen cold)
All Bets
I turned my back
My heat, it closed
(I turn to stone)
Undone
I put my head into my hands
(my broken hands)
Not won
I did not want to understand
Breathe for me
Breathe in me
Breathe
I can
I cannot feel I cannot see
(I cannot see)
I got
This feeling hanging over me
(Hung over me)
I can
I cannot feel you take a breath
(One final breath)
I got
I got feeling, kiss of death
Still I fade, still I fade
Away, away

(Breathe by: Static X)

Scott didn't notice he had gotten off the beltway and onto a deserted stretch of wooded road. He didn't notice anything but the pain he felt. He didn't notice the dizziness creeping up on him, the pounding in his head, the ache and weakness in his muscles. He didn't notice the spots before his eyes, the black spots, not red ones. He didn't notice how his body was shivering though the air was hot and humid, or how his blurred vision didn't allow him to see the road clearly.

Then there was the tree. I don't know how I missed it, I guess my muscles gave out again in one of my, 'fits.' I don't really know what happened, but all I knew next was that there was the sound of tearing metal and the breaking of wood, the screech of my tires and the smell of burning rubber. Then it all went black.

Meanwhile…….

Pushing the van at a speed higher than it was used to going, Logan cursed how bulky the vehicle was, it couldn't swerve between traffic easily. Wherever Scott was, he was getting a good lead, but no one ever eluded the Wolverine forever. No one.

'Logan' The Professor's voice resounded in his head, he shivered, he never was going to get used to that. 'I have a fixed location on Scott, it seems he stopped, but his mind's too jumbled to…….' The man's voice trailed off.

'What's wrong chuck?' Logan wondered.

After a second, The Professor's voice returned, 'I lost his signal. It could only mean two things.'

Logan filled in the blanks, either he was too hurt to respond, like he was unconscious, or he was…..Well we're not going to think that way.

'Here is the last place he was in.' The Professor sent the image of a gravel road, surrounded in dense trees. It didn't help much, but after a second he recognized the location. It was just outside of the Wolf Tavern about 15 miles out of town, Logan was a frequent visitor. The roads weren't in the best shape. He had to hurry. Applying more speed, he prayed that no cops would see him and drove on.

Meanwhile…….

He couldn't see, but a small light was coming closer, like a swimmer coming from the depths of the ocean to the surface, the light encircled him. The red light, he opened his eyes, and then shut them in agony. After a few minutes he sat up and opened his eyes. 10 feet away lay his beloved red convertible, the front smashed completely in, smoke rising from the engine. He almost wanted to cry. Almost.

Attempting to stand up sounded like a bad idea, but he did it somehow, staggering away from the wreck, he failed to notice the pain in his chest, the blood trickling down his face, how he couldn't move his wrist properly. The rips in his jeans had cuts and gashes under them; he was going to be one huge bruise tomorrow.

He had to get away, rationally it made no sense, but in the jumbled mind of a frightened, injured, slightly deranged, depressed, over-stressed teenager, it was the only thing to do. All his X-Men training screamed at him to stay where he was as not to aggravate any injuries he could have sustained in the crash, but he didn't care. 'Screw it,' Scott thought, 'Logan's coming, I know it.'

About 10 minutes later, Scott found himself unable to move anymore, he had to rest. He sat down and sobbed. He was exhausted, he was sick, he was worthless. That was how Logan found him.

As I pulled up to the road, I swore I'd never seen anything as heart stopping as seeing Scott's car smashed into a tree, it was a miracle if anyone could get out of the front. Without removing the keys or shutting off the engine, I left the van pulled onto the side of the road and ran to the wreck. I smelled blood, but no Scott. He had gotten out. That was one lucky son of a gun.

The Professor's voice was in my head again, 'I got his signal back. He hasn't gone far from his first location.'

I nodded, running through the thick brush, following Scott's scent. He wasn't hard to find. When I found him though, I was angry. That was a mistake.

I had never seen such a pitiful sight, a scrawny, dirty, bleeding teenage boy crying on the ground. I guess I lost it, I guess I was expecting him to fight back. I guess I was expecting the leader I had learned to follow. He wasn't there. Instead I saw a child, a scared teenage boy. I didn't like it.

"Summers!" It was Logan's voice, he had found me already. I hadn't even had enough time to finish the deed. The car didn't kill me, nothing killed me, was I just cursed to live my life out hurting people all the time?

"Just leave me alone!" I yelled, I heard Logan snarl. Not an 'I'm angry snarl,' but an 'I'm totally pissed off and about to chop your head off,' sort of snarl.

"No Summers, NO! I don't care what's wrong with you, I don't care if you're hurt, I don't care what you want! You're a wreck, are you a hero now? NO! You're not a hero, you're a child! This isn't how a leader is supposed to act Summers! Get up!"

I got up. I felt the blood drying on my face, I didn't care, I followed Logan to the van. Like a sheep following it's executioner to the slaughter house. I wanted to bolt, to get out of here, but I couldn't. I had to face the facts, the cold reality about myself.

Sitting in the seat next to Logan, I felt his anger diminish. The tension in the air lessened. The look on the Canadian's face began to switch from anger and contempt to pity. I hated it. I didn't want to be pitied. I'd rather die.

As soon as we reached the front door of the mansion, I opened the door of the van and got out before it even came to a complete stop. I heard Logan curse as I ran to the door, opening it I ran in and slammed it shut. I turned to almost run into Jean, my angel, who looked like she was seeing a ghost. I couldn't face her. Not like this.

The look on Scott's face scared me the most. It wasn't even human it was so twisted in anger. I stepped back from him. I saw him pause, like he was going to say something, but he ran instead. He went upstairs and I heard his door slam shut. I swore silently to myself.

Logan entered, his face a mask of confusion and anger, I saw some concern and fear mixed in there as well.

"Jean, have you seen Scott?" He asked. I nodded and pointed towards the stairs.

"He's hurt." I stated, "You hurt him."

Logan shook his head. "It wasn't me; he crashed his car……"

I nodded dumbly, everything he was saying made me more and more numb. I saw Logan looking at me with concern.

"You okay Red?"

I shook my head negatively, "Scott needs help." And then I ran up the steps, I heard Logan following me.

Sprinting up the stairs, Scott skidded to a stop in front of his room, opening the door, he quickly slammed it closed. Leaning against the wall, breathing deeply, something finally snapped. Anger flooded his veins, turning with such speed he didn't now he had within him, he punched his mirror with all the force he could muster.

Standing there, still breathing heavily, Scott stared in shock at his bleeding hand, did he really do that?

Looking at the mirror, his reflection was shattered, consorted, like a strange work of modern art. The pain never came. The truth was that on the inside, he knew he was shattered, like his reflection, like a ripple on an unmoving pond, his reflection on the inside, how he saw himself was distorted.

He could admit it now.

Without knocking Jean and Logan entered Scott's room. Jean stared in shock at Scott's bloody hand. Logan pushed past her and stared as well.

"Jean." Scott simply stated. She stepped forward.

"What Scott?" She asked softly. He bowed his head, admitting defeat.

"I need help."

Jean walked over to him as Logan looked on in a sort of stupor as the redhead pulled the visor-wearing teen into an embrace, ignoring the fact that blood was seeping onto her new pink t-shirt, or the fact that the rest of the mansion's inhabitants were watching the scene as well. "I'd do anything for you Slim, all you had to do was ask."

With the use of his childhood nickname, Scott broke down, letting his head fall onto Jean's shoulder, his face encased in her red hair. Breathing in deeply, he wrapped his hands around her, "I'm sorry Red, I'm sorry. I failed you, I failed everyone. I'm weak."

"No you didn't, never say that. You're the one person who I can trust with anything. It's my turn to be strong now." As she said this, there were murmured agreements among the rest of the X-Men. Jean grabbed Scott's un-injured hand and led him from the room, the crowd parting to let them through.

The Aftermath

Scott spent the next two hours in the med-lab, with Hank removing shards of glass from his hand, wrapping and cleaning his wounds, blinding his two cracked ribs, and wrapping Scott's sprained right wrist in an ace-bandage. His right hand merely had deep cuts on it where the glass was, which required eleven stitches in total to close all of them. The mental damage was more severe, as was his eating problems, which hank called an 'eating disorder.'

After that, Jean was allowed to visit him.

"You're lucky Slim. It could have been worse." She said, pushing her best friend, or something more, over to make room in his hospital issue bed. She curled up next to him, and he breathed in the deep clean smell of her hair. She smelled like……Vanilla.

"I know Red," he replied, enjoying her closeness. "I…..I need to tell you something."

"You can tell me anything," She said confidently.

"I'm not perfect." He murmured.

"Of course you're not," she giggled, "you're human, well kind of."

Scott sighed, "I mean, I remember that one time when you asked about my family. What they thought about me being a mutant. The truth is: I don't have a family. They died in a plane crash when I was six years old."

Jean snuggled even closer to Scott for his comfort as well as her own. She stopped as he winced slightly, "sorry," she said sheepishly, "forgot about the ribs."

"I was tossed from foster home to foster home. No one wanted me. They weren't always the nicest people." Scott shuddered, remembering.

"You don't need to tell me this if you don't want to Slim," Jean said quietly, Scott smiled slightly.

"I need to." He simply stated vaguely, "When my mutation developed, people were even worse than before. At first I could control it. They used me for stealing, hurting people. I didn't like it. When I tried to run, they hurt me. Finally, it got out of control one day. My foster father was beating me and it got a bit……..Out of hand. He raped me. I lost control of my mutation, the full switch turned on and I couldn't control it. I killed him." Jean gasped, and Scott stiffened. "I'll understand if you don't want to talk to me again," Scott said sadly, "maybe you should leave."

"No Slim," Jean sat up, "it's not your fault, we don't pick out our lives. We don't pick fate; it was his fault, your foster father's. Not yours. You'd never purposely hurt anyone. I know you; you're like a brother to me." Jean smiled. Scott smiled, and outside the curtain pulled around Scott's bed, Logan smiled.

The Voice was quieted, and after much therapy, which Ororo helped with, The Voice was gone for good. Logan never told anyone that he heard the story of Scott's life, though he though the Professor knew. The man knew everything. The only thing that remained of the ordeal was the scars adorning Scott's right hand. Jean said they made him look rugged. Kurt said it looked like he stuck his hand down the garbage disposal.

The days after the 'breakdown,' were tough. Scott couldn't hold down any food, barely slept, and constantly felt sick, but little by little things improved. He smiled more, tried to get better, spent more time with his friends, especially Jean, and rebuilt most of his car, teaching Jean along the way.

A few weeks after his final therapy session, just four days before school started, Scott asked Jean to be his girlfriend, she accepted. Scott went back to normal, putting some weight back on, his muscles returned after some special physical training sessions with Logan. His attitude turned for the better, instead of being so stoical, he openly expressed his ideas and feelings about things. He was the same Scott, but a different Scott. A changed Scott, a change for the better.

Okay, that's it. Please try to be nice, this really is my first attempt at anything X-men evolution and I know I have to work more on the Danger room scene, but it was the best I could do. I haven't seen much aboutt he Danger Room, so some of it was guesswork. The ending of the story was happy, something, if you read my other fics, dosn't happen. Oh well, it was amusing to write, so please review.