Author's Note: I have a new toy, and I want my darling readers to play with me!

I have a new Live Journal account; it's a pseudo message board type thing. I'll post info about story status, etc, etc, and you can post comments, questions, opinions, requests, etc – and I can reply directly to your comments on the board. Just choose the "comment on this" link, and you can use the "anonymous" option if you don't have a LJ account – just please sign your name so I can reply to you by name. It's fun – come try it out! The link to my Live Journal is on my bio page (www.livejournal.com/~jen1703).

Just keep in mind that I still want to see the number of reviews goin' up on this story, so the LJ is not an alternative to reviewing! ; )

Chapter 2

Scott Summers loved to fly.

In his 10 years he'd spent more time in planes than most people ever would, and he cherished every minute of it. He'd been born for it; it was in his blood. The hum of the engines, the speed, the adrenaline rush that came with turbulence, being able to look down on the world – he loved it all. His favorite moments were when his father, decorated air force pilot Christopher "Corsair" Summers, would call Scott up to the cockpit of the family plane and have the boy take over as co-pilot. And occasionally, when they were at cruising altitude, Scott would be allowed to take the controls. The pride he felt at those moments was almost overwhelming.

On this particular day, the Summers family was returning from a holiday in Alaska; they'd had a wonderful two weeks camping in the beautifully stark wilderness, but were eager to get home and back into their normal routine. It was a beautiful afternoon for flying; the sky was clear, and the white noise of the engines had lulled Scott and his little brother Alex to sleep shortly after take-off.

Suddenly the plane lurched and an explosion rattled the aircraft, startling the two boys awake. Christopher was shouting instructions to Katherine, his wife, as he fought to regain control. The plane banked sharply to the right, throwing Scott and Alex against the wall. Alex cried out in pain, and Scott's shoulder was throbbing from the impact; but Scott was older and knew that he had to be the strong one, so he bit his lip and ignored the ache.

"It's ok, Alex. You'll be fine," he said, trying to calm his brother. "Dad'll get us flying right in no time."

Scott looked towards the front of the plane and began to doubt his own words. Lt. Colonel Summers wasn't afraid of anything, and it terrified Scott to see his father's face tight with fear. He turned and barked an order at his wife, and she looked horrified.

"We can't! We're too high!" she cried back.

"I'll take her down as low as I can – we're losing altitude, I'll just try to steady her. Get them ready to go!"

"Chris –"

"There's no other way, Kate! Just do it!"

Katherine continued staring at him for a moment, then turned to the boys and struggled against the bucking plane to make her way back to them. She paused halfway, opened the storage hatch, and picked out what looked like two knapsacks.

No, Scott thought in horror, realizing what they were. And there were only two of them. Oh, no no no!

"Boys, I need you to put these on, ok?" she said to her sons, trying to smile through the tears that had filled her eyes.

"Mom, no," Scott protested, pushing the parachute pack away. "We're not going without you and Dad."

Kate inhaled a shuddering breath. "Scott, honey, you have to. You and Alex need to take the parachutes and jump. Your Dad and I will be fine."

"If you're so sure you're gonna be fine, why can't we stay?" Scott argued in a panic. His mother grabbed him and held him tightly, desperately.

"Sweetie, please, you have to," she whispered hoarsely. "You have to take care of Alex. Ok? Promise me you'll take care of your brother."

Scott hugged her back, tears finally seeping from his own eyes. "I don't want you to leave us, Mom!" he whispered back.

"I'll never leave you," she assured him, pulling back to stare deeply into Scott's eyes, eyes so like his father's. "Scott, I promise you, no matter what, I will always be with you."

Scott swallowed hard, fighting to regain his composure. He had to be strong. He had to be brave. He had to take care of little Alex.

Reaching out, Scott picked up one of the parachutes and passed it to Alex, and Kate let out a relieved breath. She helped her younger son attach the straps, while Scott struggled with his own harness.

"Kate! It has to be now!" Christopher called.

Their mother whimpered and hugged her boys tightly. "I will always love you," she rasped. "Never forget how much we love you."

Scott took a final look at his father, who was looking over his shoulder at his family. Tears shone in his eyes, and he smiled at Scott. "Make me proud, son."

Scott nodded silently, and turned back to his mother and hugged her one last time. "I love you," he told her in a choked voice, closing his eyes tightly.

"I love you too – both of you. Don't forget, take care of Alex," she told him. Then she pulled herself away from her sons and yanked open the cargo door. Wind exploded into the plane, knocking the boys back several steps. The contents of the aircraft whipped around, some flying out through the opening.

Scott reached out and grabbed Alex's hand and squeezed it with false confidence. "We'll be ok, Alex." The little boy looked up at his older brother with trusting eyes, and squeezed back.

"On the count of three," Kate told them, now crying freely. "One." Scott made sure he had a strong hold on Alex's small hand. "Two." They stepped to the edge of the door. "Three," Kate cried, tortured, and pushed her babies from the plane. She clung to the door, sobbing as she watched their small forms drop below the airplane and out of sight.

The air stung as it whipped over Scott's face. They counted to 10, as their mother had instructed, and pulled the rip cords. The drag created by the opening chutes jerked them up, and threatened to tear them apart, but they clung to each other desperately. Scott looked up to find the plane, but all he could see was a smattering of fiery debris falling towards them. Looking directly up, he watched in horror as the white nylon of his parachute started to char at the top, and then to glow. With a whoosh, the chute ignited, and Scott found himself wrenched away from Alex, hands torn apart by Scott's accelerating descent.

"Scott!" Alex screamed, reaching down towards his brother. Both boys knew it was a fruitless effort.

Scott tore his gaze away from his little brother, watching instead as the ground sped towards him, growing closer and closer, faster and faster. He realized suddenly that he was going to die.

I'm sorry, Mom, he thought sadly, knowing that he would not be able to look after Alex as he'd promised. He clenched his eyes shut, and waited for the impact. It came so suddenly he never felt it.

*****

The memories roared through his head as Scott gradually regained consciousness.

His mother's arms wrapped tightly around him. Her voice begging him to take care of Alex. His father smiling sadly from the cockpit.  Being pushed out of the plane. His hand yanked out of Alex's. His parachute burning. Falling faster, out of control. He was going to die.

He heard only snippets of conversations in that took place around him, and his foggy mind tried to piece everything together.

…plane crash a month ago...

…only survivor…

…no living relatives…

…coma...

…indeterminate brain damage…have to wait and see...

…difficult to place with an adoptive family…

...options…

...foster care…

Scott may have been confused, but he understood enough. I'm sorry, Mom, he thought, his heart aching, hoping somehow she'd be able to hear him. I tried to take care of Alex, I really did. I'm sorry.

~~

*Jen starts to chant in a sing-song voice* One, two, Logan's coming for you! Three, four, you better lock the door! *Jen flashes an evil grin* If you send feedback, I'll call him off.