AU on how the X-men came to be. Major Jott and Kurtty. Scott, Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Evan, and Rogue have all had horrible lives. See how they ban together and become the future X-men with the help of ...
Chapter 1: Scott Summers
Through the halls of a run-down apartment in the city of Bayville, New York a small boy ran. He ran and he ran with rivers of tears flowing in his eyes. His head was throbbing, his eyes were burning, and the world around him was spinning. He could feel nothing but pain...Pure, unabated pain.
"YOU LITTLE BASTARD! WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU! NOW GET BACK HERE! YOU HERE ME SCOTT! GET BACK HERE!"
The boy's name was Scott Summers. He ran in to his small, dingy bedroom as he tried to get away from the source of that booming voice that was overflowing with anger. The source of that voice was none other then his foster dad, Jack Hellstrom. To say he wasn't the best father would be the understatement of the millenium. He was a violent former convict and had numerous problems with alcohol in the past. For the last three years, the 10-year-old boy had been living under a constant state of fear because of this man. He suffered almost every day he was forced to stay there. He was beaten horribly, abused both verbally and physically, and forced to live a truly miserable existence. And it didn't stop there. He was a small, young, pretty boy who was nothing but a pet to this man and was used in many sick ways. Both he and other violent associates of Jack's had beaten and raped this young boy on numerous occasions. It was so hard to think about...It was so hard to deal with...But there was nothing Scott could do about it. This is where he was sent after...It happened.
Suddenly, Scott's door began to shake violently. He then heard loud pounding against it and saw the rusted hinges holding it up begin to come loose under the strain.
"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME OUT SCOTT! I WILL GET YOU! NOW OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR YOU LITTLE BRAT AND GET WHAT'S COMING TO YOU!"
The blistering sound of his foster dad's voice blared incessantly in his mind. He quickly got as far away from the door as he could until he was back against the wall. He sank to his knees in the corner of his small room as the door continued to shake. The pain in his head only got worse as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to make it all go away. But it wouldn't stop; it just kept getting worse. Finally, the hinges on the door gave way and the door fell forward. Scott watched in terror as he saw a very angry Jack step in to his room.
"You little bastard...I knew you were worthless, but now I know you're also just a FREAK! You think I'm gonna forget what you just did?!" bellowed Jack.
Scott knew what he was talking about. He didn't know how, but he did do something very wrong. Earlier that day after Scott had returned from school, and Jack had yelled with great anger at him for being home so late. He demanded an explanation, but when Scott said he needed some help with his homework Jack didn't buy it. And in reality it was kind of a lie. The real reason Scott had stayed at school many hours afterwards was because he didn't want to go home. He knew that the second he walked in the door, the whole cycle of torment would start all over again. Unfortunately, he had been right. Jack went ballistic when he got home and wouldn't stop yelling at the young boy for no other reason than to vent his fiery temper on somebody.
However, today something happened...Something totally unexplained. When Jack began to yell at him he felt something strange. He didn't know what it was, but it was very strong. Scott remembered Jack yelling at him, then he remembered an intense headache, and finally a great pressure that seemed to come from his eyes. The last thing he remembered was seeing his vision turn a bright shade of red and feeling a massive surge of energy shoot from his eyes. The blast was strong; it went through several more walls before it shot out of the building. In the process it had almost hit Jack and that was what sent him over the edge.
Scott watched the angry middle-aged man approach him. He also saw something in his hand. He gasped when he saw that it was a large kitchen knife. The young boy's mind began to race with a surge of anxiety and fear. Was this it? Was this how it was going to end?
"I...I....I'm sorry," said Scott who began to choke on his own sobs. "I didn't mean to..."
"You didn't mean to what?! I saw what happened!" said Jack as he cut Scott off. "You did that on purpose and I know it! Now you have to pay the price!"
Scott felt it again. He felt the intense pain and pressure he felt earlier coming from his head. Only this time it was many times stronger and the pain didn't just stay in his head, it went throughout his entire body. Jack was getting closer, the pain only got worse. Then, Jack let out a loud yell as he lunged forth at the boy.
"NO!" yelled Scott as he looked straight at the oncoming man.
He saw Jack's body fly back as if a truck had hit him head on. His vision had again become engulfed in a bright red haze. A blast had erupted from his eyes and as his vision drifted off to the side he saw it destroy anything he looked at. Finally he closed his eyes and collapsed on the dirty, dusty floor beside him.
He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, trying to stop the intense pressure in his head that just wouldn't stop. He tried and he tried, until finally he suppressed it. The intense headache was still there, but he forced himself to manage it. Slowly, he rose to his feet and looked at what he had just done. It wasn't long before he felt tears in his eyes once again as a mixture of sadness, anxiety, and fear gripped the young boy.
"What...What have I done? What's happening to me?" choked Scott as he walked over to Jack's unconscious body.
He was still breathing. It both relieved and terrified Scott to no end. When Jack woke up and remembered what happened, he would be beyond furious. Scott ran back in to his room as fast as he could; he knew he couldn't stay. If he did, he would only suffer...And die. As quick as he could, Scott grabbed a medium sized bag and stuffed it with whatever he could. He was only able to get a couple changes of cloths and a small stash of food. He then scurried down the stairs of the fire escape and stepped in to the alley. Then he ran in to the stormy night. He ran and he never looked back. Young Scott Summers had left the hell that was his foster home and was now just a 10-year-old boy drifting in the streets.
His body soon gave in to fatigue and he stopped running. The streets of downtown Bayville were unusually quiet. Only the lights from the windows in the buildings above could be seen. Scott soon heard thunder in the air and soon bolts of lightning began to flash. This was the inner city, he had to find shelter and he had to find it soon. For what seemed like hours Scott wandered the darkened streets of Bayville with no destination in mind. He just wanted to get away from all the suffering he had faced in his short life.
Rain began to fall and the thunder began to get louder. Once again he felt intense pressure in his head again. His eyes began to burn again and his vision started to get blurry. He suddenly felt dizzy and disoriented.
"Somebody...Please help me..." said Scott in a weak voice, but nobody was there. Nobody was listening.
He soon stumbled in to an alley near an old abandon apartment building. Through his blurred vision he saw an old, rusty door. He grabbed the knob and found it was open, for the lock had rusted away. Slowly, he made his way in to the rickety building and made his way to the basement. For brief instances he saw his vision clear up only to become blurred again, however he was able to make out numerous crates, boxes, and garbage bags littering the room. He moved over on top of a large cluster of bags and felt his knees collapse beneath him. Behind him there was an old dirty mirror that looked like it had many cracks in it. It was hard to tell with Scott's worsening vision. With his hands he cleared away some of the dust and looked in the mirror.
His eyes...They were glowing. They were a ruby red color and they flickered like florescent lights. Soon, he felt a large burst of energy in his eyes, but this time he quickly slammed them shut. He tried to open them again, but burst was still there waiting to be released. Gradually, he felt his headache waver, but the pressure in his eyes became a constant. Fearing for his life he reached in to his bag, grabbed a shirt, and wrapped it around his eyes like a bandana as tight as he could. When he felt they were tight enough, he collapsed on the ground in a fit of exhaustion. He tried to calm down and stop this strange energy that wouldn't go away. However, he just couldn't. Before they had just flickered, but now they just wouldn't cease.
As the pain began to wane he wondered what has going to happen now. He couldn't go back to Jack Hellstrom; that would mean certain death. He couldn't go to school, for they would simply send him back to Jack or stick him in an orphanage. Jack had special ties with social services and there is no doubt that if they ever found him he would be sent straight back. His foster dad had no use for him other than for child support money and a scapegoat to suffer his heinous temper. Nobody would want him now; nobody could ever take care of a freak. He had nobody to turn to anymore...Nobody.
With all his strength he tried to forget the events of the night, but he couldn't. He tried to forget the events of the last three years, but he couldn't. He just...Couldn't. Soon, he felt the whole nightmare start again before the blackness in his eyes. It was the nightmare that had haunted him since that one fateful day in the skies over Alaska.
"Mommy, what's burning?" asked a seven-year-old Scott Summers as he sat in a seat on his father's plane.
"Oh my God. Honey, get Alex quick!" replied his mother as her face became full of grave concern.
Scott quickly found his younger brother and saw he father rushing out of the cockpit with two strange-looking backpacks in hand. The smell of something burning began to get stronger.
"Quickly," said his father with a face full growing concern, "Put these on."
As fast as they could, Christopher and Katherine Summers strapped the parachutes on to Scott and his little brother Alex. Soon, the two young boys began to feel their parents' anxiety. Then they saw flames out the windows on the engines, and suddenly a terrible sense of understanding came over them.
"Now listen Scott, you too Alex. I'm going to need you both to be very brave and jump. Then pull these chords to open your parachutes," explained their father.
"No...No daddy I can't," said Scott as he became very scared by what his father was saying.
"You have to. Please, you have to do this. You need to look after Alex," said Scott's father as he watched his son grow more frightened.
"But what about you and mommy?" said Alex as he too was beginning to comprehend the severity of the situation.
"We'll be fine," said Katherine, "But you need to go now!"
Then, the door to the plane was forced open by Christopher Summers. The scared young boys then felt the cold Alaskan air engulf them.
"Mommy, Daddy please don't make us go. We want to stay with you," cried Scott as they looked out the door.
"No, you can't. You have to go," said his mother has she hugged her two sons along with their father. "You have to go now."
The two boys made their way to the edge and tightly grabbed each other's hand. However, they wouldn't let go of their parents. Suddenly, the plane began to shake violently and the fires outside the plane grew larger.
"JUMP NOW!" yelled Christopher Summers.
With no other choice, the two young boys finally did what their father ordered and leapt in to the frigid arctic air. Soon, they felt the wind pull them apart as they struggled to open their chutes. Finally, they pulled the ripcord and felt their fall rapidly decelerate. As they looked back up, they watched in horror as the plane carrying their parents exploded in to a fireball. The two boys watched as fire consumed their mother and father. Soon, fiery debris fell towards them and Scott felt himself fall faster once again. He looked up to see his parachute on fire. That's not all he saw, however. Scott then saw a large chunk of the plane then descended upon Alex.
"SCOTT!!!!" yelled Alex as his older brother fell out of sight.
The last thing he remembered before passing out was seeing his little brother consumed by flame.
He was in a coma for two months after that plane crash. When Scott woke up, he learned his parents and brother were dead and he was the only survivor. He kept praying that it was all a bad dream and that he would wake up in his old room. However, this nightmare was real. There was no escaping it, try as he might.
"Why..." said the timid boy aloud. "Why me? What have I done to deserve this...What? I never mean to hurt anybody, I've always been a nice person...Why? Why has everything been taken away from me? Why..."
He soon lost control of his sobs and just cried. He cried and cried, wishing that it would all just go away. He had his family taken away, he had his childhood taken away, and now he was about to have his vision taken away as well. What more could he give? What else was there?
So many times he contemplated suicide, more times than any ten-year-old should ever have to. He even attempted to carry it out after he came out of his coma. He tried to slit his wrists and bleed to death, but he survived. At first he thought it was a cruel act by some higher being, but when he was unconscious, something else happened. He had dream...A dream about an angel, a dream he would never forget. He saw a girl, a beautiful redheaded girl, reach out to him and take his hand. He remembered the warm feeling he got when he held it and then saw her smile warmly at him. She would say to him in a heavenly voice, "Everything is going to be all right."
For a brief moment, Scott Summers felt that dream all over again. He had it many times afterwards. To this day it helps to calm him down. He shifted he body to the side in order to sleep, but he soon felt himself land on something. He picked it up and ran his hands along it. Scott soon determined that this was a guitar.
He gently plucked the strings and heard that it sounded good even though it was dusty. As he dusted it off, he was reminded of his father and how he loved to play the guitar for him. Some of Scott's earliest memories were of the gentle songs his father would play him for hours at a time. When he was four, his dad started to teach him how to play and he learned fast over the years. It became Scott's favorite hobby up until the plane crash. Ever since then he was never able play much because Jack never bought him anything along those lines. He never forgot, however, in spite of all these setbacks. To Scott, the sound of a guitar was like an ode to the family he had lost.
Scott rested the instrument on his knees and even though he couldn't see, he could still play beautifully. He soon found himself playing a haunting tune that his father loved to play all the time. And through the sound of the storm outside, he began to sing and he felt his father's voice sing with him.
They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told to you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew
And I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming
No one's listening anyway...
Your voice is small and fading
And you hide in here unknown
And you mother loves your father
Cause she's got nowhere to go
And she wonders where these dreams go
Cause the world got in her way
What's the point in ever trying
Nothing's changing anyway...
They press their lips against you
And you love the lies they say
And I tried so hard to reach you
But you're falling anyway
And you know I see right through you
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming
You're not listening anyway...
As Scott continued to play the haunting tune in to the stormy night, he felt himself tire and soon he fell asleep. He was living on the streets, he had nobody to turn to, he had nowhere to go. He had no money, he had nothing anymore. Now he had lost his eyes and in the coming days he would have to learn to see again. He was now out for survival and it was unclear how long he could survive. But with the guitar in his hands and the dreams in his mind, there remained a faint beacon of light. Whether or not that light would go out was unclear. There was still a pain in the young boy's head. There were still memories he wished he didn't have. However, there was nothing he could do about it. As Scott Summers drifted off to sleep he wept, but unfortunately there was nobody there to weep with him.
AN: Well, there's Scott's chapter. I know it's depressing. Next is Jean Grey so stay tuned if you want to know how her past will be in this story. By the way, that song that I mentioned was Acoustic #3 by the Goo Goo Dolls. I don't own it they do, so please don't sue. REMEMBER TO REVIEW! PLEASE REVIEW! Post it on fanfiction.net or send them to me at email@example.com. Well, that's it for now, so best wishes to you all and thanks for reading!