AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter, Scott does a bit of blasting, in the corridors of the sub-levels. I'm not sure exactly how strong his eyebeams are, so I made'em really powerful, but uncontrollable, like in Stuff of Heroes. Another note, he hasn't received his visor yet.
Jean's powers, on the contrary, start off weak. In the beginning of the series, she could barely lift things heavier than what she could actually lift with her hands. This is a couple of years before that, so I made her TK weak, or.... non-existent (sheepish look). The link between the two also hasn't been established yet, not until 'Power Surge.'
If anyone is into that military jargon or whatever, you'll know that the DEFCON system operates in several levels. From Evolution, I figured the highest was 4, where there are metal plating over windows and stuff. DEFCON 1 is peacetime. I guessed that DEFCON 2 will be on 'Alert' status (probably when someone infiltrates the upper levels or the Institute grounds itself), where the guns and missiles are armed but not actively engaging. In this chapter, DEFCON 3 is activated (because someone, I won't say who, trips the system in the sub-levels, where all the secret stuff is), and this is a partial activation of the weapons systems.
Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. Takes place in the same timeline as Ruby Quartz.
Pairing (s): Scott/Jean
Rating for this Chapter: PG-13
Chapter 4
Later that day, Scott trudged up the stairs after a gruelling session in the Danger Room. His whole body ached with pain from a thorough thrashing. He had been distracted; there was just so much going on in his head at the time: his powers, his family, his dreams, the girl, Jean.... To say the lesson was a disaster would be an understatement.
~Those arachnoids are serious~ Scott thought. ~They're fast enough to dodge my optic blasts, and have more than enough firepower to take me out. If Wolverine and Storm hadn't been there....~
"Hey," an overly perky voice snapped the young boy from his thoughts. Knowing who it was, Scott groaned inwardly; the teen wasn't in the mood for cheeriness - or red hair, for that matter.
"What?" he asked, impassive. The young teen didn't really feel like putting up with Jean right now, especially after getting whipped so badly. Thus, his patience was already running low. Not sparing her a glance, Scott hoped Jean'll leave him alone as he marched on.
The redhead didn't get the hint, or chose to ignore it. "Tough day at work?" she asked lightly, taking in Scott's tired form.
Scott just shrugged in reply. ~What does she want?~
"I was looking for you," Jean continued, overlooking his usual socially intolerable self. "You just disappeared."
Scott just shrugged again. It's not like he could tell her, a temporary student, that below the school was a huge room full of guns, lasers and rockets, not to mention the fastest military jet in the world along with other usefully destructive stuff. By the way, did he mention the X-men?
The idea was laughable.
Turning a corner, Scott walked to his room. The redhead followed him. ~Christ, take a hint! Get lost!~
He didn't realized that he projected that thought out loud. Jean's eyes instantly glazed over, as if she had been struck. Her breath caught in her throat and she abruptly stopped walking, prompting him to do so likewise. "Is something wrong?" he asked, one eyebrow arched.
"Why do you hate me?" she asked softly, words laced with sadness. The redhead thought that Scott would be more compassionate, unlike her 'friends' from school, being a mutant himself. She was even hoping to become friends....
"What gave you that idea?" Scott asked, surprised. ~I didn't do anything....~
"Yes you did. You told me to get lost."
"But I never said...." His eyes widened behind his glasses as realization dawned on him, ".....that." Jean was poking around in his mind! Suddenly, his fury exploded as a wave of anger swept over him. Scott treasured his privacy; it was one the few remaining things he had left, and she is trying to take it away!
"Were you just in my head?!" he demanded, struggling to get the words out through his rage.
"S-Scott-" Jean stammered, terrified, as she backed away. She wasn't expecting such a violent reaction, especially from someone who was usually so controlled.
"Answer my question!" Scott shouted.
"Y-Yes. It was an accident, I swear. You were pro-" Jean started to explain, but Scott cut her off.
"There are only two rules in this mansion. Rule Number One: don't ever mess with my head! Ever!" Scott hissed menacingly. His voice was unnaturally calm and level, despite the anger boiling in his veins, making his words even more intimidating than if he had shouted them. "Rule Number Two: Stay out of my mind! Think you can handle that?" Jean was taken aback by his vicious lashing, before her eyes narrowed and her own temper flared, in defense.
"What the hell is wrong with you? I was just trying to be nice!" Her words caught him by surprise, obviously not expecting to be back-talked. Retreating a step, Scott's anger returned full force.
"What's wrong with me?" he asked, incredulous. "I'm not the one screwin' around in other people's heads!"
"It isn't my fault!" she protested angrily.
"I'm sure." With a sarcastic nod of understanding, Scott continued. "Why can't you respect the privacy of others, like other people?"
"What've you got to hide under that thick skull of yours anyway?!?"
"That's none of your goddamn business!" Scott roared. "Nothing that you, a normal person, would understand!" His dark glasses seemed to glow briefly before Scott stormed away, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists. Jean watched his retreating figure, before her body slumped to the floor, crying uncontrollably.
***
"Damnit!" Scott cursed, slapping a hand against his bedroom wall. Slamming his door shut, he sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with his hands in a frantic thinking method. He can't believe he just lost it like that.
~I overreacted....She was just trying to be friendly~ he thought sadly. ~but still, it doesn't change the fact that she was reading my mind~
Scott ran a shaky hand through his thick, brown hair. It has become sort of a habit of his during times of frustration. The young boy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At the bottom of it, he knew he was wrong. He shouldn't have snapped at Jean.
~You're just scared, Summers~ an extremely irritatingly rational voice observed in his head. ~You're scared that if Jean found out about you, she won't want to be your friend anymore. Although, by the way you're acting, you won't need any help anyway~
"Shut up," he silenced the nagging voice, but knew that it was right. Scott was scared. They were so different - from opposite worlds, really. Jean's an upper-middle class girl that comes from a wealthy, loving family. He was the son of an Air Force pilot, an orphan and a homeless kid prior to enrolling in the Institute. Scott mused bitterly for a few moments at the stark contrast. His peer was way out of his league, and he simply didn't know what to do anymore.
How would Jean react if she found out about his past? Would she be appalled? Frightened?
Trust. It kept coming back to that one word. Who did he trust? Did he trust himself, even? Scott already knew the answer to that one - No, he didn't trust himself. Due to the brain injury he suffered several years ago that prevented him from controlling his powers, even the smallest slip could have catastrophic consequences. At that point, his brooding was interrupted by the telepathic voice of Xavier.
//Scott, what is the matter? You seem upset\\ the Professor asked kindly.
//It's nothing. Jean and I just had a little chat\\ Pausing briefly to collect his thoughts, he settled on a vague summarization. //She was poking around in my head, and I told her to stop\\
//I see\\ There was a moment of silence, before Charles finally answered. //You do realize that Jean is unable to control her telepathy\\
//Sir, don't be ridiculous\\ Scott scoffed. //You didn't have any trouble with your manifestation, why would Jean? You're both telepaths\\
//True, we are both telepaths, but Jean is a very different type of telepath\\ the Professor pointed out. At this, Scott felt his heart drop. He had assumed that they were all the same.
~Was Jean telling the truth?~
//It's hard to explain: whereas I have to go into a person's mind to read their thoughts, Jean's telepathy works the other way. She has to work at keeping her mind out of others. Do you understand?\\
//So it's not her fault if she just happens to pick up passing thoughts?\\ Already, the young teen was running out of his room into the halls. An apology was in order.
//No Scott. That's just the nature of her powers\\
***
Jean sat by herself in the hallway, tears rolling down her cheeks every once in a while. Her sobbing has long since ceased, and the only noise she made was the occasional sniffle. Scott's words had hurt her, and badly. Whoever came up with the phrase, 'stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,' is a complete idiot.
At once, she sensed someone approaching. The young girl didn't want anyone to see her like this. Getting up, Jean ran down the hall and took the first turn to the right. She found herself facing a familiar elevator - the one that led to the basement, if she remembered correctly.
The footsteps were getting louder. Desperate, Jean pushed the button, Scott be damned. He could go to hell for all she cared. As metal doors slid open, Jean slipped quietly inside, unnoticed. She exhaled deeply as she sensed Ms. Monroe walk by. Suddenly, the doors closed behind her and the elevator started moving.
***
Scott was closing in on where he had left Jean when he saw 'Ro turn a corner down the hall. The redheaded girl was nowhere in sight. As he walked by the elevator, his sensitive hearing picked up the low hum of the elevator as it proceeded down the elevator shaft.
~Hmm, nobody's supposed to be in the basement. I just saw 'Ro and Logan's in the Rec Room, but Jean was....~
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" he muttered as he took off at top speed towards the stairs. Jean was in the elevator!
***
The elevator 'dinged' and its thick chrome doors opened as a vibrant redhead stepped out into the sub-levels of the Institute. She proceeded down the long narrow hallway, taking a few turns, until she stopped before a huge pair of metallic doors with an even more impressive 'X' carved into its surface. Although she didn't know it at the time, Jean was standing in front of the Danger Room.
Unknown to the redhead, her foot tripped one of the many laser sensors that formed the bulk of the security system. She had unwittingly sent the entire defence network at the Institute into DEFCON 3. The first thing that alerted Jean to danger was the whirling of metallic gyros as a small laser turret locked onto her heat signature.
"What the-?" Every instinct in Jean's body told her to move, high time, when the snout of the gun (it is a gun, isn't it?) started glowing blue. She just managed to dive to the ground when a burst of blue energy ripped through the air, right where her head was only moments before. As Jean tried to get up, the turret readjusted its sights and fired again. Instantly, Jean's body convulsed violently as thousands of volts of pure energy struck her chest and rushed through her body, overriding the central nervous system. She was out cold before her body hit the ground.
***
Scott flew down the stairs and burst into the sublevels. Running down the hall, he checked the elevator. As he feared, it was empty.
On impulse, Scott dove to the ground before a bolt of electrical energy even left the barrel of the well-camouflaged taser turret. Turning in mid-air, his hand flew to his glasses and removed them. Opening his eyes just a bit, a small, but highly destructive, blast of solar energy obliterated his mechanical assailant before its' sensors even registered that it missed.
~Damn, DEFCON 3....~ A quick scan of the defense grid showed that all the sub-levels were locked down. Each hallway was sealed off by large, metal doors and were heavily guarded by laser turrets. His mission was clear - he had to find Jean. Sprinting down the metal corridors that led to the Danger Room, the future X-man caught sight of two turrets up ahead. With cannon-like precision, both were reduced to scrap metal as they were obliterated in two crimson flashes.
His run was stopped when the path was barred by a large metal wall. From the looks of it, there was no way Scott could get past. Left with no other choice, his left hand rose nervously to the frames of his glasses. The mutant never did find out how strong his force beams were, as nothing has yet to survive an optic blast at full power. Now seemed as good a time as any to find out, and the thirty-two inches of titanium steel in front of him presented a formidable challenge, even for his optic blasts.
~Well, here goes....~
Scott opened his eyes as far as they can go. Instantly, raw solar energy erupted from his eyes in a freight train of crimson power. It barrelled ruthlessly into the titanium-steel, which screeched in protest as it started yielding away from the tremendous pressure. There were no scorch marks, no molten metal: his powers were strictly concussive and generated no heat whatsoever. After fifteen seconds, it happened - the wall collapsed. The gigantic metal plate exploded in a large Whoosh! as it was blasted off its emplacement, heavily twisted and warped but remarkably still in one piece.
As the remains of the barricade skidded across the metal floor, it attracted the attention of a trio of laser turrets. Probingly, they scanned the inanimate object for any form of life, heat sensors running through its deformed surface. Thus, there was no warning when their plastic structures were torn apart by three staccato blasts of concussive energy. As their carcasses fell to the floor, Scott ran past them, looking for any signs of Jean.
He found her body lying in the middle of the next hallway, sprawled across the floor, red hair covering the ground like a carpet. Quickly dispatching the gun that knocked her out, Scott rushed to her side, holding her into a sitting position. Checking her vitals, he found no indication of any injury beyond her unconscious state. Slowly, her body stirred as she came to.
"Wha-?" Jean moaned as Scott rested her head on his shoulder.
"Hey," he said softly as her eyes fluttered open. "You finally woke up. Had me worried for a moment there.... like you died or something."
"Scott?" she muttered distantly. Suddenly, memories of their argument replayed themselves in her mind and she tried to jerk away, but was too weak to do so. Instead, she winced in pain - the effect of her paralysis has yet to wear off.
"Easy Jean," he ordered softly. His tone was gentle, a far cry from the brutal voice that reprimanded her earlier. Jean complied, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Are you alright? You look like hell."
"I'm fine," she spat, refusing to look at him. "Like you care." If she was able to at the moment, Jean would've stormed off and left him there, but such was her present state that the redhead could do little more than submit to Scott's embrace. Besides, he was so warm, and she felt so safe.... wait, what was she thinking? I'm supposed to be mad at him!
At her accusing tone, Scott looked away sadly. "I do care," he whispered softly. For some reason, the boy couldn't stand the thought of Jean being angry at him. With a deep sigh, he continued, "Look, about before-"
"Yes?" Jean interrupted, expectantly.
"I-I...." he swallowed his pride, "I'm sorry. It was my fault - I had a tough Danger Room session in the afternoon. I'm sorry for snapping at you like that, but when you went snooping around in my head, I just lost it."
"I tried to tell you: You were projecting! I didn't want to! I hate my powers, I hate being mutant and I hate my life!" Jean shouted. Suddenly, it was all too much: being a mutant, rejected by Scott, attacked by strange weapons and shocked to oblivion.... she broke down into a river of tears. Scott just held her tight as her crying increased in intensity, her body wracked with heart-wrenching sobs.
"Shh, it's okay," Scott said in his most soothing voice. The truth was, he was just as terrified as Jean was, and the fact that she was crying made him even more insecure. He clumsily traced circles on her back to calm her down, ignoring the growing wet spot on his shirt. "It's okay."
"Everyone hates me, even my parents," Jean wailed, tears flowing down her cheeks in a steady stream. "How can anyone love a freak?"
"That's not true. I don't hate you."
"I'm a telepath, remember? I can hear some of your thoughts. You can't lie to me."
"Well then, they should be telling you now that I don't hate you, and that I want you to stop crying because it hurts me when you do," Scott said, projecting his words and feelings verbally and mentally. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice. Through red, puffy eyes, she squeaked, "Really?"
"Yeah, really." She gave him a weak smile, and snuggled closer into his embrace, differences forgotten. There was a long silence as Jean regained her composure, before she finally spoke up again.
"Why did you get so mad? About before?" she sniffled, hugging him tighter. Jean half expected Scott to run away again, but to her surprise, and much admiration, he didn't. Not really anyway.
"T-There's some things that I don't want you to know. My life hasn't exactly been pretty," he admitted. Jean sat up so that she was level with Scott and pressed her forehead against his.
"Will you show me?" she asked, indicating with her telepathy.
"You won't like what you see."
"Let me decide that. I know who you are now, so I don't care what you were before. I just want to know why." She looked deep into his eyes, or rather, glasses. "You don't have to if you don't want to."
Nodding, Scott swallowed before he closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts. Telepathically, the boy projected some images into Jean's mind.
Flames that shot up and engulfed a couple in their early-thirties.... devastating crimson blasts.... glowing eyes, an impossibly white face and a sinister voice.... Jack, an abusive foster parent....
"Omigod," Jean gasped when Scott severed the mind link, stunned. The pictures weren't overly informative, but they were enough to give a small impression of his tarnished past. She finally understood why he was so afraid of her.
Scott looked away, eyes hidden by his long brown hair and ruby-quartz glasses. "Oh god, Scott, I'm so sorry," Jean whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I should've been more considerate. I'm sorry."
There was another period of silence as the two sat on the floor, holding each other like the other person was their life raft. Slowly, Scott pulled back.
"I'm sorry about before," he began uneasily, breaking the silence. Jean never said if she had forgiven him or not. "I'm sorry for acting like such a jerk. Forgive me?"
"Oh, come here you lughead!" She reached up and locked her arms around his neck, holding him tight. Hugging Scott was like hugging a metal pole, until he relaxed and hugged her back. The redhead couldn't believe that someone so uptight could be so warm....
"I'll take that as a maybe." A smile was tugging the corner of Scott's lips but he suppressed it. Jean wished he didn't.
"You can take that as a yes, Mr. Summers." They maintained the embrace for a long time, until her voice echoed in Scott's head.
//Promise me that you won't hate me? Promise me that you'll always be there, for me, no matter what?\\ Jean was wary of placing her trust into another person. Annie had left her before; she didn't want to repeat that experience. Scott could easily sense her distress through the emotions that were washing off of her in waves.
//That's a promise Red. I assure you, I won't leave you alone\\
//Friends?\\ Her voice was hopeful.
//Best friends\\ Scott confirmed, pulling away to stare into her emerald eyes. Suddenly, both were snapped out of their trance by the distinctive *snickt* of adamentium claws.