A/N: Have I told you all lately how absolutely amazing you all are? I know it's been a month, and I'm terribly sorry for the delay . . . I was battling a bit of writer's block. I thought you all might want to know that this bit of the story is in substitution for "Blind Alley." It was the only way I could think of to not incorporate the world learning about mutants while still keeping up with the direction of the story.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except for any changes to the plot that you don't recognize.
"Normal speaking"
'telepathically speaking'
thoughts
XxX
Buzzing. A dull buzzing filled his throbbing head, the only sound he could hear. Groaning, Scott opened his eyes, grateful for the reprieve of powers bouncing inside his head. He wasn't in his room; that was the first thing he noticed. Next came the thundering pain at the base of his skull, accompanied with the steady dripping of water. He tenderly touched the back of his neck, feeling the bruise swell beneath his fingertips. He groaned again, he was going to have a knot the size of a softball on his head by tomorrow morning. Or perhaps it was already tomorrow morning. Scott couldn't tell, his cell had no windows. Cell? What am I doing in a cell?
He jolted upright into a sitting position as memories of the previous night came flooding back. The soldiers, Kurt grabbing the girl, him telling Jean to get the others back to the van, the dizzy sensation, and then the blinding pain. Scott rose to his feet, survival instincts kicking in. It would be best to observe his surroundings, look for any weaknesses or escape routes. Eyes adjusted to the dim light he began a thorough search of his cell, determined to learn its every corner like the back of his hand. (A/N: I hate that expression. Who knows what the back of their hand looks like?)
XxX
Tears stung Jean's eyes as she exited the Professor's study. She hadn't had the strength to make it to school, none of the mutants had, but it had been far worse for Jean that the others and it was Jean the Professor had pitied. She hadn't wanted to open her eyes, and when Ororo had finally goaded her out of bed she cursed the sun for daring to shine. Scott was gone. He'd simply vanished in the same fashion as the soldiers. The Professor had tried using Cerebro to find him, but Scott had yet to use his powers, and knowing Scott, that would be a last resort saved for a worst case scenario.
It was in the mid of that thought that Jean collided with Rogue. "Oh, sorry," Jean said, "I guess I wasn't paying all that much attention."
"It's awright," the younger mutant muttered, but Jean didn't seem to be listening. Her eyes had a glazed, vacant look, and her face lacked its usual shine. Rogue hesitantly placed a comforting hand on Jean's slightly quivering shoulder, causing the girl to jump. "Hey, we're gonna find him, okay? Don't give up on us or Scott, yet."
"I know," Jean whispered, smiling through her tears. "It's just . . . it took me so long to realize . . . and I never got to tell him. So now he's out there somewhere, and he doesn't know."
Rogue felt her heart rise and plummet within her. "I think he knows, Jean, Scott's always known, he just hasn't believed."
Jean nodded, "he's afraid someone will leave him again." She smiled gratefully at Rogue, wiping tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry I've dumped this all on you. You're probably the last one who wanted to hear it."
Rogue gave her a crooked smile. If only you knew. "Don't worry about it." She caught Jean by the wrist as she began to move away. "Just do me a favor, will ya? When we find Scott, tell him how you really feel. He doesn't deserve to be led on."
"No one does. But don't worry, I'll tell him."
XxX
After 30 minutes, Scott wearily collapsed to the floor, mentally running over what he'd discovered about the cell. It was under seven feet in height; he could lay his palm flat against the ceiling without rising to his toes. A pipe opened from the wall with a steady drip of water, but carried no sounds of the outside world. The bars on his door were rusted, but strong, and the hinges and doorknob were supposedly on the other side. "Nothing much of use," he muttered, eyeing the door. He was tempted to just blast the darn thing, but he didn't have the slightest idea as to what lay on the other side. "Best to know the enemy before you attack."
Seeing no way to improve his situation, Scott settled back into a corner, resting his head against the cold wall. He wondered where the other X-men were and if they'd made it back to the mansion. If not, I'd have probably heard from Jean by now. Jean. Some how his thoughts always led back to her. Paul used to tease him about it when they'd been younger, saying that Scott could connect anything at all back to Jean. He sighed, thinking of the time they'd spent together on the soccer field just the day before. Jean had seemed so clueless when Scott talked about his "dream girl." Jean had always been his dream – the one he wished for on shooting stars and birthday cakes – for the past five years. And for once it seemed as though there was actually some chance of something happening between them. Although if I don't get out of this cell, I won't even see her again.
There was a sudden rattle of keys on the other side of the door and the sound of numerous bolts sliding from the locks. Scott warily rose to his feet as the door slowly creaked open, sticking occasionally in the clots of matted dirt, blinding him with sudden light. The silhouette of a tall man blocked the light in the doorway, his square shoulders filling the frame. Scott squinted against the light, trying to grasp some detail of the man's shaded face before he stepped into the shadows, making room for the soldier who followed him in. The first man nodded from his place, hidden in the shadows, and the shoulder grabbed Scott gruffly by the arm, shoving him to the door.
"Hey! What's going on?" He hadn't meant to talk, but fear was starting to overcome Scott. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"
The guard remained silent, dragging the struggling Scott out into a narrow whitewashed hallway. The first man stepped from Scott's cell and walked ahead of Scott and the guard, leading the way down the hall past numerous other cell doors, each one barred in the same fashion as Scott's. Dim lights swung from wires on the ceiling, casting ghostly shadows on the walls and giving the facility a slightly haunted look. Scott could hear the muffled cries of other inmates behind closed doors, each one drowning themselves in their own screams as to not be swallowed by the interminable silence of their cells.
The first man came to a halt outside one of the doors and produced a small key, sliding it into the automatic lock. The door clicked and swung open allowing the guard to shove Scott inside what appeared to be some sort of experimental facility. The kind of facility he'd always imagined when reading stories about Area 51 and Roswell cover-ups. The walls and floor were a steely gray, reflecting the bright lights and white coats of the many official-looking people who shuffled from station to station, clutching clipboards and test tubes.
"There," the first man gestured towards another door, tucked neatly between a computer lab and chemical processing room.
Once inside, the first man turned the lock on the door behind him. The guard pushed Scott towards a steel table that faintly resembled that which doctors would use for operations, but it lacked the comforting trimmings of a hospital. With help from the first man, Scott was flattened onto the table – not without lack of his trying to prevent this – and strapped down.
"What are you doing? Let me go!" Scott struggled against the leather straps, trying to loosen them with constant pulling. He'd fought against the guard the entire walk from his cell to this room, yet the man hadn't budged; he'd merely dragged Scott along as easily as a puppy on a chain.
The first man surveyed Scott carefully, looking him over from the bottom of his yellow boots to his hair peeking out over his carefully adjusted visor. He turned to the guard, not taking his eyes off of Scott as he spoke. "Go get Dr. Foster."
"Are you sure?" The guard glanced meaningfully at Scott.
"I said Go."
"Yessir," the guard inclined his head and slipped from the room, leaving the man alone with Scott.
Since the first time since he'd been dragged from his cell, Scott got a good look at the older man. He had brown hair streaked with gray and shaved back in a buzz, accompanied with a thick brown mustache that curled about his face. His eyes were a dark gray, small, menacing, and filled thick with hatred. When he spoke, his thin lips curled in a sneer, his voice as hard as flint. "Mutant."
XxX
'Jean,' the Professor's voice crept into Jean's head, pulling her out of a pitiful attempt at slumber. 'The girl is awake, we need you in the MedLab.'
Reluctantly, Jean managed to haul herself from her awkward position sprawled across one of the Institute's many couches. She didn't really want to face this girl, she was afraid if she did she may just lose all control and let her bitter rage erupt upon the child. Jean knew it wasn't the girl's fault that Scott was gone, but she couldn't help thinking that if they'd never had to rescue her, Scott might still be here laughing at Jean, smiling his adorable smile and doing his best to make her laugh, to rise her spirits. Of course, if he was here I wouldn't be upset.
By the time Jean arrived in the mansion's sublevel, most of the other students had already gathered outside room, eagerly hoping the girl might hold news of Scott's disappearance, but Jean knew better than to hope. Hoping never got you anything other than disappointment. She pushed her way through the throng of students, ignoring their envious groans as she was admitted into the MedLab. I wish one of you were going in as well, you don't know how much I don't want to be here.
"Jean, I'm glad to see you." The Professor smiled warmly at her. "This is Allison," he smiled at the blonde girl, "Allison, I'd like you to meet Jean. She was one of the first students at the Institute."
"Hi," Jean tried her best to smile at the young girl. Allison was clearly frightened. Her eyes darted back and forth between the Professor and Jean, and as Jean spoke to her, she tightened her grasp on her bed sheet, pulling it closer to her. Any feelings of hostility vanished as Jean observed Allison's vulnerable state. She knew exactly how the girl must feel, as Jean had been just as scared and untrusting when she'd first arrived at the Institute. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right," Allison murmured hesitantly. "I-I'm sorry about your friend." Her eyes fell downwards.
Jean gaped at the girl, trying to find something to say. "Yeah, me too."
"Jean," the Professor intervened, "Allison was about to tell me about the events she went through last night." 'She's frightened,' he added with his own telepathic abilities, 'but she acknowledges what you all did for her last night, and she wants to be of any help to find Scott.'
'Are you sure she's up for it? She seems terrified.'
'So were you when you first came,' she could hear the smile in the Professors "voice." 'But, like you, she's a strong and determined girl – not to mention stubborn. When she heard about Scott she said she wanted to help, and despite her appearance, she won't back down.'
Jean nodded. She could understand that. Allison felt guilty. And she should! "Do you think you have any information about my friend?"
Allison glanced at the Professor, who nodded encouragingly at her. "I don't know if anything will help. But I heard some of the soldier's talking, when they first found me. They were talking about some 'experimental facility' for mutants. They were talking about some serum to cancel out a gene or something." Tears pooled in the girl's eyes. "I didn't really stick around to hear more . . . I ran, I was afraid." Her shoulders started shaking. "I'm so-sorry."
"Sh, Allison, please relax." The Professor said soothingly. "You've done all you can. I want you to rest right now. Our medical advisor will be in, in a moment. His appearance may be somewhat . . .alarming. But I don't want you to worry, he's a very gentle man, despite his appearance."
The blonde girl nodded and the Professor wheeled towards the door, beckoning Jean to follow. Before they left, Jean turned to face him. "Professor, what did that all mean?"
The Professor sighed, placing his fingertips together, elbows resting on his knees. "It means that Scott may be in grave danger."
Please Review!
DOJ
A/N: Hey all, I'm a bit hesitant to do review replies, seeing as how one writer had her story pulled off from ffnet and the only reason she can figure is that she replied to reviews at the end of each chapter. I'm going to do replies this chapter – but if you review, let me know if you want me to keep doing replies. If no one does, then I won't bother, but if you like hearing replies, I'll keep it up.
SOLJA: Are you serious? No, I've never seen the video, but if you know where I can find it, please let me know! You've had me frantically trying to come up with ideas for this chapter just so I could respond to you. But yeah, that is just a major coincidence. I've always thought the song fit them rather well though. Anyway, thanks so much for the review! I'm glad you like my story!
GothikStrawberry: I don't think Taryn is all that bad either, if there was no Jean I wouldn't have a problem with her and Scott. It's just the manner in which she threw herself at Scott in "Shadow Dance" and her snide comments about Jean who was "supposedly" her best friend.
Tashafic: blushes Thanks, I'm glad you liked it.
Ingrid: Thanks for the huge compliment I know that Mrs. Jean Grey-Summers has a list of people in her bio who currently write Jott stories, so you may want to check that out.
LanceIsHot: Is she an OC? I honestly don't know. I'm borrowing her character from the X-men Legends video game, though she won't really have much to do with the story other than the fact that I needed some reason for Scott to be kidnapped.
Wen1: Sorry this took so long, I hope it was worth the wait.