Title: Side-Blinded Date: 07/21/03
Author: Water-Soter
Main Characters/Pairings: Scott/Jean (sort of), Professor Xavier, Ororo, Logan, Hank, Kurt, Kitty, Evan.
Series: From One End To Another Part 2
Author's Notes: I want to thank my beta, Kris for her magical betaing powers, :-P, she's a lifesaver. This story is dedicated to Nadja. My light in the deepest darkness. This story takes place after "Under Lock and Key" in the X-Men: Evolution cartoon. If you haven't read "Between the Light and Darkness" then I suggest you do so or else you won't understand what's happening. Basic info on the X-Men: Evolution series is in part 1 of this story for those of you who have never seen the cartoon. I want to thank all the people that reviewed my story and I hope you continue to do so.
Feedback: Absolutely! I'm new at this, so please don't burn me at the stake. Nevertheless I will appreciate any comments or suggestions you have on this story J. Feed me! Please write to me at www.Water_Soter@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Marvel comics and the almighty Stan Lee. It's free so please don't take the shirt of my back, J.
Warning: this story is pretty mild only a little blood L but future chapters might not be J, so if you're easily offended please don't read, otherwise, be afraid be very afraid . . . hee! ha ha ha ha (diabolical laugh!).
Squishy thoughts "Yummy" spoken Whoopee telepathy
The sub-basement at the institute was always quiet and eerie at this time of night. Metal covered halls seemed bright and the echo of footsteps too loud if you were the sole person prowling about. Corridors seemed endless with very little to break the repetitiveness of the underground design. A true maze for those who were unfamiliar with the area.
The eerie feeling of it made most of the school's residents cringe at the thought of coming down here by themselves, but not all, especially when one of their own was holed up in the Med-Lab.
The single figure walked almost soundlessly, his natural stealth quieting the forceful clunking of army boots on the metallic surface. The grim expression on the stubble covered face a true indicator of how upset he was with the current state of one of the resident 'kids'. Logan thought of about all of them as such, despite how they'd proven otherwise, their pain was his and this was one of the reasons this situation had him so on edge.
Scott Summers was by no means a child, but to Logan, he was the closest thing to a little brother he had. A very stubborn one at that, who's refusal to open up to them had him in the med-lad, covered in blankets to prevent shock, an IV line to replace lost fluids with Dr. McCoy running every test known to man on him, and Logan was not happy with any of it.
It had been a long day. Most of the kids had either been insisting on visiting the teen, or pestering him and any adult that came their way about Scott's status. Nevertheless, he had managed to keep his cool and now he hoped to be able to convince a certain redhead to leave the boy's side and get some rest.
Nearing the Med-Lab, he could make out the beeping sound of the heart monitor along with Jean's light snoring and Scott's weak breathing. What the hell is the kid playing at? Damn, stupid, stubborn brat! He thought, exasperated as he saw the pale figure lying on the bed. The boy looked like shit.
At the bedside, Jean sat, head on the bed, red long hair cascading along Scott's elbow, her small hand gripping tightly the youth's muscular arm. She looked as tense and worn-out as he felt.
Not having the heart to wake her, he walked to the other side, noting the slight shadow of light creeping in from the Lab, no doubt McCoy working nonstop to find what was wrong with the kid.
"Mmmm . . . Logan?" The redhead youth mumbled sleepily, while dislodging herself from the bed and rubbing her eyes.
"Hey, Red, how're you holding up?" He asked, noting the dark circles under her eyes.
"Fine, I guess." She sighed, looking worriedly at the still figure lying on the bed. "What are you doing here?"
"Came to replace ya." He said, managing a small grin, and at her doubtful expression, he added, "Charles thought you needed to get some rest, still got school tomorrow."
"Hmp! I'm fine!"
Raising an eyebrow at her, he spoke softly, "Yeah? That's what the kid's been saying for two weeks, and look where it's gotten him."
Jean turned sharply, giving him a hard look, before sighing, "Fine! But you better stay here with him in case . . ." She let the sentence hang in the air, she didn't say it, didn't need to.
"Don't worry, darling, I ain't going nowhere."
She nodded once, leaning over the bed and tenderly kissed Scott on the forehead, moving a few strands of hair from his clammy face. "I'll check on you before I leave for school, okay?" She whispered to him, then left the room without another word.
Taking a deep breath, Logan stared at the retreating figure until she was out of sight, before going for her discarded chair, and taking the seat, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, sending a few reassuring thoughts her way, Don't worry Red, I'll take care of your boy.
"The abolishment of slavery didn't halt the Southern states from putting pressure on the newly forming government of the 'New South', as many referred to it, to keep the African-American people from taking their rightful place in both politics as well as society."
The teacher's voice echoed throughout the room in a disembodied tone, adding to the surreal feeling of the class. It had a dim, light 'glow' to it, distorted, out of place. Even as he sat there – front, second row from the door, his usual place – nothing seemed to stick, not the lecture, not the quiet chatter of the students around him. Everything seemed to have a lightweight, fuzzy touch to it. He felt out of place.
"Whatever plans Abraham Lincoln had for the Southern states after the Civil War, his assassination guaranteed that none would be fulfilled, and perhaps ensured that it would take another hundred years before the Black citizens obtained rights that should've been guaranteed by the Bill of Rights."
Scott sighed, his head had started to ache again, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down in a nice, dark, quiet room and forget all about Magneto, Apocalypse, and especially the dreams. He tried to ignore them, pretend that everything was 'fine', but for some reason, he just couldn't keep his mind on anything else. Not only were his grades beginning to suffer because of it, but he'd been committing rookie mistakes in the training sessions. It was sheer luck he hadn't gotten himself or any of the others hurt.
His mind continued going back to those dreams, spacing him out to the point that he didn't hear the school bell, or notice that the room had already emptied. It took him a moment to realize that he was the sole student left as his gaze wondered about until it moved forward to the front of the room, and saw the teacher looking at him expectantly. Arms crossed, the man's beady eyes reflecting his distaste for the youth, the same look many of the students and teachers gave the mutant teens since they were 'outed' a few months ago.
Sighing once again and biting back a groan as he felt his brain shift as he rose from the desk, Scott made his way wearily to the hall. His pace deliberately slow, reluctant to go where, no doubt, at least a dozen students would whisper behind his back about one thing or another, but to his surprise, when he crossed the threshold, the only thing he saw was an empty hallway. Not a student in sight.
Frowning, he made his way up and down the unusually silent corridors, searching everyplace he could think of, but finding nothing, not a soul. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, unnervingly calm. It made his hairs stand on end.
Where the hell is everyone? He thought exasperated as he rounded the same corner for the eleventh time. There wasn't even a whisper in the air, the eerie feel of the place getting to him as much as the sudden disappearance of the school population, this whole situation was nerve wrecking.
"Jean?" He called out, both mentally and verbally, but no response came. An intense fear creeping into his heart, he called out again, desperation edging into his tone, "JEAN, KURT, KITTY . . . ANYBODY!"
Silence.
Taking a shaky breath, he made his way toward the main doors, hoping that the student body were merely outside, but once he tried to open them, the doors wouldn't budge. Try and try again, they didn't move an inch. His anxiety levels rising, he did the one thing he had left, his last resort, he used his concussive energy.
The blast was powerful, enough to knock down a building, the amount of force one he wouldn't normally use, but served to show the young man's frame of mind. The loud 'boom' seemed like thunder striking the earth from the heavens, shattering the quiet. A few minutes, and exhaustion forced him to stop, breathing heavily.
Gaining some composure, he looked at where he had just blasted and stared transfixed at the sight before him. There wasn't a dent, not a scratch to indicate his recent endeavor. He stood there, facing the exit for what seemed like an eternity, too awestruck to move.
How . . . it-it's impossible! He thought incredulous, mind racing as reality struck him full force . . . he was trapped, alone, with no way out.
"No!" A breathless whisper escaped his lips. It came out half pleading, half denying what was happening. Coming forward, he touched the doors as though trying to confirm what his eyes where telling him. "No!"
No? A mocking voice from behind caused him to turn sharply, his heart caught in his throat at what stood before him. The shadow, the woman was standing before him, hovering in mid-air like she had so many times in his dreams.
Too shocked at what he saw, dizziness overtook the young man. Everything was spinning, his legs felt like jelly and suddenly couldn't hold him up any longer forcing him to slump to the unmercifully cold floor. It took him a moment to note for the first time how the temperature in the room had seemed to drop. He could see his breath in the air, and his tall frame began to shiver convulsively.
Too much, everything was becoming too much for him to handle. "WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHO ARE YOU?" He shouted as loudly as his lungs allowed him too. Cradling his head in his hands, trying to block out the image of the woman as well as the all too familiar pain.
"What do you want from me?" He whispered, almost brokenly. The stress of the past few weeks was finally catching up to him.
You! The proximity of the voice startled him. Looking up rapidly, he saw the shadow merely inches from his face. A ghostly hand reaching to caress his cheek, more cold than anything he had ever felt before, You!
"NO!"
"NO!" His voice rang out throughout the med-lab, startling Logan from his light slumber.
"What the . . ." Logan began as he took stock of his surroundings before his eyes fixed on the thrashing form on the bed, and the rapid beeping of the countless devices attached to the young man. One look told him all he needed to know, and he quickly moved forward, taking hold of the youth in order to prevent him from tearing the IV out. "McCoy!"
The slid of a door, the added light to the room and quickening of steps told him the doctor would be with them in a few moments.
"What happened?" A perturbed voice inquired from the other side of the bed, blue hands aiding the gruff man in restraining the youth.
"Don't know. The kid was fine a few minutes ago."
Even before he finished the sentence, Scott went limp, save for the shivering wracking his body.
"Evan?" The brunet's weak voice brought both men's attention to the boy's face, seeing his head turned toward the corridor.
Logan turned, but only saw the empty space Scott was staring at. "There's no one there, kid." He spoke softly, trying to keep the concern and confusion out of his tone.
"But, I . . . I saw . . . hi-him." The croakiness in Scott's voice would have made it difficult for anyone else to pick up, but Logan's sharp senses allowed him to hear the boy perfectly. The look the youth gave him was unguarded, as if asking for reassurance that he wasn't going crazy.
"Scott, Evan Daniels is not at the institute. You know that." McCoy said as gently as possible, as though he were talking to a confused child, but Logan could hear the deep rooted concern.
"But . . ."
"He is not here, Scott." A new voice added. Charles was in the doorway; apparently overhearing their little conversation. "I assure you, Cerebro has not detected his presence in the school, nor have Jean, Logan or I."
The room went quiet, only the sound of rubber on steel could be heard as Charles motored himself to the bedside. Logan seeing the man's intent, made room for the him, letting Charles take his place as the wheelchair bound man gripped Scott's hand in his to reassure the boy.
"I don't unders. . . Why . . .?"
"I am uncertain as to the reason for your apparent hallucinations, Scott, but we cannot come to any understanding of your situation if you continue to keep us in the dark." He said with a calm but firm tone that Logan knew meant that Charles was reaching the end of his rope. The man loved all his students, would give his life for each and everyone of them, hell, Logan would too, but Scott was more to the man than just another pupil, he was the son Charles might never have and in the boy rested all his hopes for the future, and now that person, child to them, was suffering and the wheelchair bound man was utterly helpless to do anything in the matter. "Please, son, let us help you."
"I . . ."
Just then an alarm coming from Cerebro cut into the conversation. Logan fidgeted, hesitating as much as Charles to leave things like this, but with Magneto seeking new recruits and the threat of an unknown ancient mutant looming heavily over them, they couldn't risk delaying their response.
"Henry?"
"I will ensure that he remains here, Charles." There was no doubt to whom the good doctor was referring, the youth had a tendency of being a very bull-headed patient.
"Very well, Logan?"
Logan turned to the other man, nodding before following him toward Cerebro, but not before throwing one last comment to the youth, "Don't even think about moving, kid."
"What is it, Charles?" The gruff man asked after a few minutes of silence. Charles having been on Cerebro since their arrival. Ororo off to the side while Jean, Kurt, Kitty and Rogue stood impatiently at the doorway. They were all tired, their nerves on edge with all the recent happenings.
Sighing, Charles took off the helmet, turning toward them, "There is an unusual large amount of mutant signatures coming from underneath the suburban area of Bayville."
"The Morlocks! We already know about them!" Jean snapped, her temper getting the better of her.
"I'm afraid a situation has arisen within the area," He said gently, turning to Ororo, their eyes locking before he continued cautiously, "Logan, prepare the Velocity, the rest of you get into your combat gear, we leave immediately."
Logan and the rest of the X-Men left without a second glance, only Ororo stayed behind.
"Charles?" She spoke uncertainly, not in the regular commanding tone of a African goddess.
He eyed the young woman before him, wishing he could spare her the pain of having her only nephew missing, "Ororo, I have managed to touch some of the minds of the people there." He motored to where she stood, taking her hand in his, "It appears that they seemed to be under some sort of attack."
"Evan!" She whispered, all color draining from her face.
"I need you to remain here, Ororo." He added quickly, before she even had time to blink.
"No! Charles, I must find him!"
She tried pulling away to make her way toward the hanger, but Charles' voice stopped her, "Listen to me. In your current emotional state, you are a danger not only to yourself but to the team. We will find Evan and bring him home, but I need you here to take charge of the other students in case something were to occur."
"Henr . . ."
"Henry cannot leave Scott in his current condition." He wheeled himself
to the doorway, leaving a shaky wind-goddess standing in the cold room, reassuring
her mentally, Trust me, Ororo, I will do everything in my power to ensure
Evan's safety.
"Doc-Doctor McCoy?" The young man managed to gasp, clutching his chest tightly as he tried unsuccessfully to sit up on the bed, "Some-something's . . . wro-wrong."
"Scott?"
"Help . . ." Suddenly, a series of images ripped through Scott's mind, making the young man cringe: a dark place, tunnels, small specs of light giving form to the familiar area, movement, bodies moving frantically away from a group of shadows, laser fire spreading all around, spikes flying toward the shadows, Evan, he could see Evan and men trying to shoot him and any others there, blood, lots of it.
"Get those freaks!" A voice shouted from among the group, he felt someone grab him, then he fell in the water, and he couldn't get up, someone was holding him down, then dark, and he barely make out another voice.
"Scott, please calm yourself!"
He could recognize the voice, Doctor McCoy, "I can't! I ca-can't breath!" He said between short breaths.
He could feel an oxygen mask being placed over his mouth and nose, and hear murmuring, "Breath, Scott, breath, in, out, in, out," repeating over and over in a hypnotic rhythm, while the man rubbed his back in a soothing manner until Scott began breathing normally.
It was real! Their killing them! God! He thought frantically, trying to get up from the bed, barely managing to gasp out, "He-he's in tro-trouble."
"Scott, who . . .?"
"Evan, their . . ."
"Scott, Evan's not . . ."
"No! Their . . . Morlocks!" He could barely speak, breathing becoming excruciatingly painful as he tried to removing the oxygen mask with the Doctor stopping him from doing so, "Men . . . guns . . . dark . . ."
End Notes: In the episode "Day of Reckoning" part 1 and 2, the X-Men along side the Brotherhood face a sentinel created by Trask, an anti-mutant scientist, in which their battle gets televised and their identities revealed to the world as well as the existence of mutants. In "Mindbender", the X-Men encounter a powerful telepath named Mesmero, who is looking for the "keys" to release an ancient mutant who later, in "Under Lock and Key" we discover to be En Sah Bur also known as Apocalypse which is who I refer to as the ancient mutant. In the same episode, Mesmero fools Magneto into destroying a creature whose purpose is to destroy Apocalypse opening the second door of three to free Apocalypse, which is one of the events I refer to, another is Rogue's powers going out of control and her being bed-riding in the Med-lab since it happened in the episode "Self-Possess". In X-Treme measures, a group of deformed mutants called the Morlocks that lived in the sewers underneath Bayville.
