A/N: In which Tyke decides to write a letter to Cyke.

-0-0-0-

Sincerely, Me

-0-0-0-

Dear Scott Summers,

Hi. It's Scott Summers. Younger-you, I mean.

I don't really know how this time-travel thing works. I don't even know how to start this letter. And, maybe this letter will be pointless. Maybe you'll wake up with the memories from this side-trip.

But when last we spoke, you didn't remember anything, so I just wanted to be sure. Because I'm unsure of a lot of things, currently.

What I do know is you'll come back to life to read this—and gee, the present future has really thrown common sense out the window when the only certainty is life after death. And not in the metaphysical or spiritual sense, either.

Jean—your Jean is back. As in, she's walking around in flesh and bones and in the tightest suit I've ever—you get the picture.

I just wanted to tell you my observations about the present future and, I don't know, offer you advice. I guess.

Sorry, things have just gone crazy. I dread thinking about growing up now. Honest.

Sorry, I'm rambling. I'll just get back to the point.

Sorry—wait, am I saying sorry too much? I apologize. It's—a lot of things have happened, and I feel bad you'll have to put up with all of the… things.

Alright. Here it goes:

1) Dad is doing fine. It's surreal to see him again after—I'm sure it's been much longer for you, but not coming back for us really tore him up, you know. Just wanted to let you know. Maybe you should visit him? I think we're about to have a mother-in-law, too, and she's great.

2) The future is complicated. I don't know what happened, but there's just so much… noise. And not always for the good, either. Not even for the most part. Maybe a 70-30 split, to be frank. I don't know. Maybe we're just in the wrong crowd? More on that later.

3) I'm sorry about the Space Pirate after your life. I broke her heart, but not intentionally. It's all your fault, though. You told me not to go for blondes or redheads. Just, be careful when you go to off-planet, alright? Oh, did I mention Vileena Malafect blames me for killing her father? Sorry.

4) Emma Frost is frightening but she really does love you. Not me or us. You. She went crazy after you died, you know? Her sanity jumped off a cliff. She tried to transplant your memory into my body. I think it's supposed to be romantic, and it probably is if, you know, you're crazy. I don't think she has many friends. Find her, Scott. Find her and save her.

5) Jean Grey is confusing. One moment, she's leaning forward and the next, she pushes back. One moment, she's saying she doesn't want us to get together and the next, she's angry when we're talking to someone else. But then there are those times when she smiles and it's like it's just us two in the world, you know? I don't know how we actually ended up marrying her, but treasure her. I guess we can't avoid redheads no matter how hard we try, right?

6) I made friends outside the X-Men. They're great. And it's refreshing to not have to fight for your survival every other Tuesday. I think we should make more friends. Outside the X-Men, I mean. I don't think the X-Men like us that much. But not the Avengers. They're a bunch of douchebags. Can you believe that Captain America is the head of Hydra?

7) I used up most of the money you've been saving. I bought us a small house in Anchorage. It's good for us—you. I think. It'll also require some work, but the manual labor will do you good. I promise. It's also the best excuse if we need a quick escape to clear our head. And I really do think we need time to clear it.

8) Time-travel sucks. Travel to the past, and you risk creating a paradox. Stay too long in the future, and you realize it's not all it's cracked up to be. Then there's Nathan and Rachel. I don't know how to talk to them. I tried, once, but Nathan mentioned he has an evil clone and an alternate-reality counterpart and I don't think I'm up for this science-fantasy setting anymore. At least Rachel turned out okay.

9) World-ending events occur bi-annually, at best. Don't stress about it. It's a fact of life. It usually starts on a Wednesday so always be prepared. Strangely enough, most end on a Wednesday, too, so you have something to look forward to. I've created a manual detailing what to do during an apocalypse and saved it in our laptop. It's based on all the mission reports in the X-Men's database. I figured, since it's happening so frequently, and we've written nearly all the reports in the database, we might as well put the data to good use. I've highlighted all the important parts and made annotations. I suggest browsing through it and editing it as you see fit.

10) I'm really sorry about your car.

Anyway.

Things have really gotten strange in the present future. There are times when I think about how nice it was when I only had to worry about mutant-hunting robots and the occasional mob outside telling mutants—not just me, specifically—to go to hell.

And I still can't control my optic blast. Isn't that just the nail in the coffin?

But then I look out the window and I see our species flourishing. I see the flashiest game of baseball, ever. And I see Storm bring rain to a drought and I think… wow. No matter how complicated things have become, we're still making a difference, you know?

And I think that's all it boils down to.

So when you read this, I just wanted to remind you.

From me, to you.

"You did alright."

I'm not sure how to end this, so I'll end it at that.

Sincerely,

Me

Ps. Don't let Laura Kinney cut onions. It's absolute torture for someone with heightened senses.

PPs. Also, I think onions are the base compound of her trigger scent. I've never been more frightened for my life.

PPPs. DO NOT LET HER CUT ONIONS EVER AGAIN. You have been warned.


A/N: Loosely inspired by the Dear Evan Hansen song Sincerely, Me. As in, the song was on repeat when I decided to write this piece.