Here's something's I don't own: The X- Men.

Things I do Own: This little story

These events take place after 'Astonishing' 15 before 16. I haven't got my greedy little hands on 16 yet, but I gotta say Kitty's a little bad ass.

Scott wasn't moving. His breath rasped uneasily as he lay limp on the med table. It had been only a few hours since Emma had taken him on the Walk. The walk through the bug room. His bug room. That revealed his biggest failure, his refusal to control his power. A decision he had made as a boy that would haunt him the rest of his life. He had lost himself then. In his mind he relived that moment over and over, the cool blue room, his small eight year old body curled up, hugging his knees. A thin white bandage that covered his eyes was now moist with tears.

I will not control this. I cannot control this.

These words were repeated over and over, like a sick mantra, and the adult Scott stood watching, his chest riddled with pain. It was the first time Scott Summers actively chose to do nothing. He leaned, hunched in the door frame surveying the eight year boy with sadness and distain. He was a failure. As a mutant, as a leader, as a husband…he bit down on his lip as he felt the slight sting of tears. He was so weak, but he hid it so well, from the Professor, from Jean…

Emma. She knew he was a weak and feeble man, and for all his gusto, she had seen right through him. Emma, the woman he loved, the woman that made him see all sides of himself. The only person that made him honest. He finally could admit his failure.

His body shook. His flesh and bone body. It was being rocked to and fro. Scott's consciousness fell further inward toward himself. There was evidently some kind of battle going on around him. Peter, Colossus, his friend was going blow for blow with the Black King of the Hell fire club. Scott wanted to call out to Peter,

" No! Don't! Every punch makes Shaw stronger."

He didn't. He pursed his lips together and continued to drown in his memories. The X Men were under attack, but they didn't need him. Emma was right. He was never the leader he pretended to be. He was always afraid.

Storm had taken the title from him, without her power to harness the weather, the only time he had to defend his role. He had let Jean die. Thunderbird. Banshee. Psylocke. He winced as the list of casualties became longer. Moira, Madelyne, the entire Grey family.

Jean. Where are you?

There were times, at night, in bed with Emma, he swore he could feel her. Jean Grey, Marvel Girl, The Phoenix…He could feel her there. Watching, waiting, the sea of green that were her eyes gazing down at him, asking him…

Why? Why her?

Jean…

He called out to her, begging for help. Please I need you now. I can't do this. I can't do this.

Shaw had won the fight. Colossus was on the floor blood pouring from his nose. Scott could see them now. It was faint, like he was barely awake. Was Peter dead? Shaw's face was swollen purple and black. He was standing over Peter with his distinct arrogant Shaw smirk.

Jean.

Shaw turn lazily to stare at the drooling comatose Cyclops on the table.

" Looks like Emma has broken her little toy." Sebastian's voice was guttural, and laced with blood. He watched Scott's body with some amusement.

Jean…

Shaw raised an eyebrow. " What's this?"

Had he spoken? Scott felt a rush of blood to his face. He was coming out of the coma. He kept his body still, trying his best to prevent any twitching as movement was beginning to return to his limbs. His eyes began to burn. NO! he had to control himself. If his optic blasts fired Shaw would alert the rest of his thugs, that were probably scattered around the mansion. He felt his abdomen tighten.

He had to control this. He could not fail.

Shaw eyed him curiously, but seemed content to believe that Scott was still incapacitated. Cyclops' eyes were burning tot the point of tears beginning to well up in his eyes. The others. What was happening to them? He could only assume that if Peter had been taken out so easily, everyone else could be in great danger. Scott felt his blasts starting to crawl in to his eyes. NO! Not this time! He bit the inside of his mouth to the point of blood creeping out the cracks of his lips. The pain was unbearable.

Dammit Shaw! Leave already!

As if the villain had heard him, the Black King turned and strode out.

Scott took in some long breaths. His head was on fire. He had never held his optic curse at bay for so long, he needed to find his glasses. The med lab was a wreak, sparks were popping out here and there and the Shiar medical equipment was hissing and buzzing protest that it had been crushed, thrown, ripped from the wall… Scott glanced at Peter, squinting as though he were gazing at the sun.

Control. Peter is more important than the ruby quartz glasses right now. You held it in this long, a few minutes longer won't hurt you. I'm gonna feel like shit tomorrow, if I'm alive.

Colossus was still in armored form, and breathing. His concussion was probably so severe that he couldn't be properly looked at until he powered down, but Scott kneeled next to him and fumbled around the large Russian.

" Hey? Pete?" Colossus was down for the count. Scott closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He felt like his head was going to explode. He'd give up his first born for his glasses right now, wait, his second born, already gave up the first. Scott smiled at the incredibly poor taste of his own joke. It removed some of the pressure behind his eyes.

See Red? I got that sense of humor.

I noticed Slim.

The tears returned. He knew that voice better than his own. He stifled a sob, the joy, the guilt, every emotion he ever connected with her came flooding back. The pain in his head was gone. He was back in the hospital room, staring at himself as the eight year old kid. This time it was different. Gone were the cool shades of blue, the chill in the air was gone. The room was warm, colors of orange and yellow laid against every surface. Next to the trembling young Scott sat the woman he had loved for such along time.

Her face was soft, her hair the color of fire. She looked up at him, as she smoothed the boy's hair gently.

You're not really here.

Hmmm…

Jean.

Scott.

I don't think I can do this.

That's always been your problem. You think too much.

The Hell Fire Club's here, Emma she, she…

She betrayed you. I know. Scott, why didn't you ever tell me about the hospital?

I don't know. Shame? I always felt that if you knew what I really was,

I wouldn't love you? Come on…I think we're a bit beyond that now.

Why did Emma bring me here?

Think about it, if some one wants to completely destroy another they go for their weakest moment, when they cant fight back. Emma attacking an eight year old doesn't seem fair, but this boy is your weakness. The moment you shut everyone and everything out of your life, me, the Professor, Alex. That witch bulldozed her way into your memories and gave you the proverbial hit in your physic groin.

Nice talk. She knew this was Achilles heel and exploited it, is that what your saying?

Seems so. Nice girl friend. So, the question is what do you do about it? Is this going to the moment that is going to define you for the rest of your life? Or, do we talk this boy, you , into changing his mind?

Scott stood upright, strong and steady. The pain in his eyes seemed less somehow. She was there with him. She'd never left.

I can't changed what happened then, he thought, but I can change what will happen now. I'm Scott Summers, Cyclops, leader of the X-Men, and I won't go down without a fight. This will be the moment that defines me. With purpose and strength he strode out of the med lab ready for whatever was to happen next.

Jean Grey sat in Scott's mind stoking the hair of the young boy. Little Scott pulled the bandages from his eyes and smiled at her, his brown eyes glowing.

" Things are going to be different now." He said simply. Jean kissed him lightly on the forehead. Yes, she thought, things were definitely going to change.