Thanks to hippichick2112, ellie, and feathered moon wings (several times!) for reviewing! To answer a few questions: correct about Ruth's past, Alex really didn't hurl his plate, and my story didn't have character tags because-ahem-I kindasortamaybe forgot. Thanks for the reminder ;)

As July marched on and the heat continued, Ororo found herself missing Africa. She missed the dry heat. It was muggy here and sometimes the humidity was so bad it plopped down in heavy raindrops.

"Hey Matty."

By now, she was used to that at least. And she had to admit, for all this business with his biological family, Scott had been a good brother to her. He stood up for her usually—and she had frozen when the school was attacked a few months ago, and he made sure she made it to the shelter.

So when she found him in the kitchen, she grabbed a Coke and joined him at the table.

"Hey Blondie."

"I finished Dracula."

"Did you ever like it?"

"I liked being finished," Ororo said.

Scott chuckled. "I fully apologize for the recommendation," he said.

Ororo believed him. As lightly as he offered the apology, he had made her suffer through a really annoying, really boring book. He knew that.

"How are you doing?"

Scott sighed and his shoulders drooped. She couldn't help but notice that she, at least, got to wear dresses. She had a little airflow. His jeans had to be stifling.

"It's really hard, Ororo. With—you know—him."

"You could just tell the truth."

"Not the secret," he said. "Having him here. I wish he would just… leave! He was gone for twenty years. Alex was back on track, everything would be okay, and now… now… I wish he had stayed dead."

She stared. Had she heard correctly? "What?" she spluttered.

"I'm not proud of it," Scott said, "but it's the truth. He never should have come back and having him here is… it sucks."

For a moment more, she watched him. People said eyes were the windows to the soul. Even without Scott's eyes, Ororo saw that he meant it. This was a weight on him. It ached throughout him.

She grabbed the front of his shirt. "What the hell!" she shouted.

Ororo swore, but not that word. Usually.

She did not raise her voice.

"Ororo, what—"

She shoved him hard, making him fall out of his chair.

Scott scrambled to his feet, but Ororo was there, ready. She only had the one good arm. Now she used it to swing at Scott's jaw. He avoided by grabbing her arm and spinning her away with her own momentum.

Ororo hit the table. It scraped back a few inches, knocking over a chair and sending a soda bottle to the floor. She bounced toward Scott.

She tried again and again he deflected.

"At least have the balls to fight me, you stupid girl!"

"Stop."

"What is this?" demanded a surprising voice. Usually, it was Ruth who caught them at this sort of thing. Today it was Professor Xavier.

"Nothing," Scott said. He looked from Ororo, still furious, to the chair on the floor and the puddle of Coke. "We're just playing, Professor, nothing serious."

The string of obscenities coming out of Ororo's mouth were her favorites from Arabic and English, what she had picked up in Maa, and even a few of Ruth's Hebrew cusses. A small voice in her head said this was a really bad idea, but she couldn't stop.

Nothing serious? This was nothing serious to him?

Tears sprang to her eyes and it wasn't from the pain in her hand as it connected with his cheek.

"Don't do this."

"At! Least! Fight! Back!"

She shoved him with each word. Scott let her.

"Ororo," Charles said.

By now the rest of the house was here: Alex, Hank, Ruth, and Chris, all waiting for Charles to give a directive.

Ororo went to knee Scott where boys really hurt. She felt him shift, but her knee connected with his thigh hard enough to destabilize him.

She just had enough time to punch him in the gut before an arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her back.

"Why won't you fight back!" Ororo demanded, struggling pointlessly. She knew Ruth held her. That wasn't a hold she could break.

But this time Scott answered. "Because," he said, "you're my sister."

"Your si—" Ororo looked from Scott to Chris.

"Don't—" Charles tried, seeing what she meant.

Ororo wasn't having it.

"He's your son!"

She looked into Chris's eyes as she said it.

Ruth carried her out of the room, Ororo kicking and screaming the whole way—mostly screaming to Chris. "Scott Matthew Summers, he's your son!"

Then Ruth had her down the next hallway and into the classroom there. She slammed the door behind them and shoved Ororo into one of the chairs.

"There will be repercussions," Ruth warned. Then, seeing that Ororo did not understand this word, "Consequences. This is a big thing you have done. Ororo." She switched to Arabic as she asked, "What happened?"

Ororo shrugged.

"Bati…"

She shook her head.

"I know you're hurt."

Again she shook her head. "He didn't fight back."

"No, but you would not have done this if you were not hurt."

"He just… he said some really dumb stuff."

"What did he say?"

"Just dumb stuff."

"Men say dumb stuff all the time, they are men."

Ororo couldn't answer that. She just sat, trying to look angry but increasingly unable to keep her lip from trembling.

Ruth crouched and wrapped her arms around Ororo. Earlier, when she was beating up Scott, Ruth held her to restrain her—and she was effective at this. Of course she was. But this was different. It was comforting. Being held like that made her feel warm, soft, and safe.

Ororo hated her for that.

"He's your son! Scott Matthew Summers, he's your son!"

Scott's name had never felt so much like an insult. He couldn't look at Chris, or at Alex, or at Charles. He wasn't sure what to do from here. None of them would forgive him and he didn't know what he had done to make his sister and one of his closest friends betray him.

That hurt more than anything else.

Chris learning the truth… he would bear that.

The Professor wanted him to be honest, anyway. He would probably be proud of Ororo for telling the truth, even if Scott couldn't.

Alex…

But Ororo. She had done some mean things before, said mean things, but this was a new level of hate.

Scott sank down to the floor. He just sat and stared. Everything was crumbling and sure, he had a dozen things to do—to address—to… he just didn't…

Why was everything so damned complicated? Most people just had a mom and a dad. Most people who died stayed gone.

Footsteps approached and stopped just in front of him.

"Why is it qualified, why does everything have to be qualified?" Scott asked. He felt the floor under him, but it was spinning so quickly, why was it spinning like that?

He didn't like heights.

Why was he so high up when he didn't like heights?

"Yeah, well." Alex crouched in front of him. "We got a problem there, because I am your amazing, brilliant, unbearably handsome big brother. A little too quality, you understand."

Scott sniffed and tried to smile. He wasn't exactly crying, but that was mostly from the pain. He learned early on not to cry about pain.

Alex turned to their dad, still standing in the doorway. "Give us some time," he said. Then, to Scott, "Dude, you just got neutered by a 12-year-old girl."

Scott shoved him. "She's fourteen and she missed."

"Didn't miss your face," Alex retorted.

He went to straighten up the chairs, then returned and offered his hand. "C'mon, get up. First thing's first, you need to put some ice on that shiner 'fore it swells up and puts you off-balance." He helped Scott to his feet, guided him to a chair, and handed him a bag of peas from the freezer.

"Alex."

Scott didn't say that. Chris did, from the doorway.

Alex glanced between his father and his brother. "Do you want him here?" he asked Scott.

"He can stay."

"You sure?"

Scott thought for a moment. "Mom?"

"Think she's with Ororo right now, man."

"Can you…?"

Alex leaned over and hugged Scott.

"I didn't just do that and if you tell anyone otherwise, I will break your nose."

Scott sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve—which, for him, meant squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his eyelids. "Alex, I'm really sorry." Then he looked to Chris, back to Alex, and asked, "Can we have a minute, please?"

"Me and you or you and Dad?"

"Me and him."

"Yeah, of course. Keep holding this," Alex added, momentarily pressing the peas against Scott's face.

Alex left and Chris took his seat. Although Scott had asked for this, he did not know what to say now that he had a moment with his father. All this time, he tried to hide who he was. He never considered what he would do when the truth came out, instead hoping it never would.

Now he tried to think of a way to say, please don't leave. You don't have to speak to me, just don't go, Alex needs you. He knew his father hated him, but he had never needed to acknowledge it out loud before. Tears pricked at his eyes.

"I knew," Chris said, breaking a too-long silence.

"You did?"

Chris nodded. "For a while now, but I promised to say nothing to you. Before I knew I asked Charles to find you. I agreed to leave you alone if you were with a loving family. I didn't realize at the time he meant himself."

Scott wasn't sure Ororo loved him lately. She was pretty mad, actually—he would need to make it up to her somehow. It was true, though. He had a mom and a dad who loved him; he didn't care that they weren't his biological parents.

"You know about Sean?" he asked.

"I know he was a friend of yours who died."

"Friend of Alex's, really," Scott replied. "Alex was there with him when he died. He took it hard—he's only just coming back. And he's so much better with you here. If you leave, he—I'm not sure he could bear it."

Chris sighed softly. "I don't want to abandon you again—"

"Alex," Scott interrupted.

"I don't want to abandon either of you."

"Alex needs you. You don't have to talk to me, you don't have to have anything to do with me."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Scott was just hoping Chris would understand, while Chris was trying to work through what Scott was actually saying.

"You think I don't want you."

"I know you don't want me."

"Matthew—Scott—you're my son. I love you."

"You love me? Where were you? We were here, your sons, and you left us without knowing who was raising us, if we were cold or hungry at night. You abandoned us for twenty years and you never would've come back if your ship hadn't been damaged. Alex was only a baby! He couldn't take care of himself and I wasn't strong enough to protect him. You didn't come back. You didn't even try. You moved on and you forgot about us—that's not something you do to people you love. You do that to someone you hate. And Alex… Alex was just a baby, so…"

Scott started his speech looking at his father, defiant, but by the end he was staring at the table. Loathing is a heavy thing and despite what he thought, Scott was still in many ways a child. It was too much to know.

Had he looked up, he might have seen the stricken look on Chris's face. "Scott…" He reached out, but Scott flinched back. "Scott—but you weren't cold and hungry. You have opportunities here that—"

Scott's head snapped up. He glared at Chris. Even without seeing his eyes, Chris felt that glare.

"Is that what you think makes someone a good parent? Money?"

"Of course not."

"Alex was adopted into a family that didn't love him. Not really. He needed his dad. He grew up without a father and that's my fault, but you could've come back for him."

Glaring all that blame at Chris, Scott concluded:

"It's your fault, too."