Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men Evolution, I never have owned X-Men: Evolution, and, unless something drastic happens, I never will own X-men: Evolution. But I can dream.

Author's note: This story is very spur-of-the-moment, meaning I posted it last night right after I wrote it 20 mintues before. It's cute, yet pointless fluff about Scott. It's also very short. But I rather like it. I went back over it after I posted it though, and found some mistakes It's all fixed now though. Rated PG for some angst-type thoughts. Oh, and the song at the end is called "I Am", by Jill Phillips. It's a beautiful song and if you ever get the chance to listen to it, I strongly suggest you do. And please review this. You will never know how much a review means to a writer until you are a writer yourself. Okay, enjoy.



Dream Gift

by Skye Dragon





In a place that is neither far, nor near, a mother and wife embraced her spouse as they looked upon the land of the living. There was a sense of peace and joy radiating from the woman's spirit.

"Darling, look," She called to her husband. The spirit of her husband turned to see what his wife was looking at. She was looking into the land of the living, where it was currently night. A fat, round, full moon was out, and stars sparkled in the dark ocean of the night. In the mist of this beauty was a large house, and in the house, a young man slept. It was their first born son.

"It will be his birthday tomorrow." The mother commented, the trace of a smile on her ghostly lips.

"Yes, so it will." The soul of the father agreed.

"We should give him a gift, don't you think?" The wife went on.

"A gift?" The husband mused, "But what could we give?"

"I know exactly what to give."

~*~*~*~


In his room at 'Xavier's school for the gifted', Scott Summers slept fitfully, tossing and turning. He was caught in the middle of another nightmare. He'd been haveing a rather lot of those lately. Several of them were about being found out for what he was: a mutant, a freak. But the other nightmares were worse. Because they weren't only dreams, they were memories. The scant memories he had left of the plane crash that had left him an orphan.

Those hurt the worst. Mostly because they were real. They didn't fade when he woke up. Sure, maybe he was able to push them out of his mind when he was awake, but at night they haunted his dreams. He kept seeing it over and over again. The look of seer horror on his parent's faces as they told their two sons to take the only parachutes on the plane. The sound of his mother's sobs. The feel of the air rushing past him when he fell. The thundering boom that filled his ears when the plane exploded. The fire that rained down all around him. He felt himself grabbing for Alex's hand, and then it went black, only to replay seconds later, over and over again.

It was in one of these horrible dreams that Scott found himself caught in, when suddenly everything when black. The terrifying noise of the plane explosion was suddenly replaced by the sound of someone humming soothingly. He felt very small, and weak then, and yet, inspite of this, he also felt safe. Whoever this was that was humming, it was someone who cared about him, someone who loved him very much.

Scott felt himself being lifted, felt the warmth of human arms as his small body was picked up and cradled in loving arms. The calming motion of being rocked back and forth gently rolled over him in soft waves. He had to know who this was! Fighting to open tired eyes, Scott was quite taken back when he discovered that he could see colors!

It had been forever since Scott had last seen any color other than red. So long in fact that now even his dreams were in shades of red. It was a wonderful thing, to see all these marvelous colors, and Scott reveled in the joy of them.

It was then that he saw it. A face looming above him. It was the most beautiful face he'd ever seen in his life. And it was one he knew. It was his mother. She smiled at him. "Good morning, my beautiful, baby boy. Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Scott reached out a hand to touch her face, to feel her soft skin. But as soon as his hand was in front of him, Scott stopped. That was his hand? But it was so small! Surely it wasn't his! Yet, it moved when he did and flexed when he did.

Mrs. Summers laughed lightly, apparently amused to see her infant son so intrigued by his own hand. She gently laid him back down in the cradle, and then kissed him softly on his tender forehead. Scott, accompanied by the subtle sent of peppermint and baby power, drifted off then into a sleep too deep to be disturbed by such things as dreams or nightmares.

He awoke the next morning with an unusual feeling of peace and calm. He felt more rested than he had in a long time, at least since before the nightmares. There was also a lingering sensation, the flitting memory of a dream. Yet the harder he tried to place it, the further away it went. Finally he just gave up, and was content to just lay back and listen to the sounds of the other occupants of 'Xavier's school for the gifted' as they woke up.

And somewhere, in another place, the departed spirit of a mother was pleased to know that she had lightened the burden of her first born son.

~*~*~*~



Oh gently lay your head,
Upon my chest,
and I will comfort you, like a mother,
While you rest.
And the tide can change so fast.
But I will stay, the same in the past,
The same today.

Because I am constant.
I am near.
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears.
I am holy.
I am wise.
I am the only one who knows your hearts desires,
Your hearts desires.

Oh weary, tired, and worn,
Let out your sides
And drop that heavy load you pulled, cuz mine is light.
And I know you through and though
There's no need to hide.
I want to show you love that is deep, and high, and wide.

I am constant.
I am near.
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears.
I am holy.
I am wise.
I am the only one who knows your hears desire.
Your hearts desire.

Oh, gently lay your head, upon my chest
And I will comfort you, like a mother, while you rest.


~*~*~*~