Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.
Crash and Burn
By Skye Dragon
Skye's rambling spot: Hi! Me agian. Heh, I wrote another fic about Scott and his parents. Acutally, his parents aren't in too very much of this. Er, anyway, This fic is an AU in which no ones knows that Alex is still alive . . . not yet anyway. Reviews are most welcome, even bad ones. My only request is if you tell me you hate this story, then I ask that you tell me WHY you hate the story. If you tell me why, then I can be sure to not repeat whatever mistake I made that made you hate my fic. Get it? Okay, good. Now, enough with me. Enjoy the story!
* * * * *
"So do you want to go to Jessica's party, Friday?"
Scott looked over at the person in the passenger seat of his car. "Not particularly, why? Do you?"
Jean smiled. "Maybe."
Scott raised an eyebrow at her, still keeping his eyes trained on the road as he drove. "That's not an answer." He commented dryly. He put on the brakes as they approached a red light
Jean's smile grew and she leaned back into her seat, the seat-belt tightening and then loosing across her chest. After a brief pause, she said, "Yea, I think I would like to. It'll probably be more fun than Mathew's party was." A sudden glint of light caused her to turn to look at Scott.
Scott had his face turned toward her, and it was the sun glinting red off his glasses that had caught her attention. She couldn't tell what his reaction was due to the sun-glasses, and she abruptly wished he didn't have to wear them. It was annoying that she couldn't read his emotions in his eyes, the window to the soul, as some people call it. It was a fleeting notion, though, and as often as she had it, Jean never dwelled on the thought. It would probably never happen. Not any time soon anyway. Besides, she could usually tell how he was feeling by the way he moved or held his body. And if she couldn't find out that way, well, she WAS a telepath . . .
The horn blaring on the car behind them jolted both teenagers. The light had changed. Startled, Scott jammed his foot down on the gas and took off . . . right into the side of a truck that was running it's own red light . . .
The last thing Jean thought was that some people could be so impatient . . . then all went back.
* * * * *
Disembodied voices flowed through her head, interrupting her sleep.
". . . It was an accident . . ."
". . . Nothing Scott could have done to avoid it . . ."
". . . Coma . . .Broken arm. . ."
". . . Other person's fault . . ."
Jean moaned, trying in vain to block the voices out. Why wouldn't they go away? They were so loud! And she was so tired . . .
"Jean? Jean!" One of the voices attempted to wake her. "Jean! Wake up!" She moaned again, and a hand griped her shoulder and began to shake her. "Come on! Wake up!"
". . . Stop . . ." She croaked, feebly trying to bat the hand away.
There was an irritated growl from the person and then another voice sounded: "Here, let me try . . ." Quite suddenly, something very cold and very WET was splashed all over her face.
"GAH!!!" The trip back to reality wasn't fun. Jean sat up and rubbed furiously at the water all over her face. "What the?!? What's going on!?!" She demanded, still very much befuddled by her rude awakening. She blinked confusedly up at the people standing around her bed.
"It's about time! Are you, like, okay?" Jean blinked several times to bring the speaker into focus. When this was accomplished, she found herself looking into the concerned face of Kitty. Behind her were Kurt, Evan, Rouge, and Ororo. All looked at her anxiously.
"Huh?" Jean found herself lacking the ability to say anything intelligent.
"Does anything hurt?" Ororo asked, her voice gentle, yet firm.
"Ah . . . my arm feels like Blob sat on it." She managed to respond.
Ororo smiled a little at the comment. "That's to be expected. You broke it."
"I broke my arm?" Jean looked down and only now realized that she was laying in a bed in the medical ward at the institute. Her left arm was in a thick cast. "But . . .how . . . ?"
"You don't remember?" Evan asked. "You and Scott had a car wreck. Some idiot ran into you!"
"Evan!" Ororo's tone was demanding that time. The mutant fell silent, the light of anger still flickering in his eyes.
Jean stared at Evan for a moment more, before all the memories came rushing back. The jerk on the car as Scott slammed on his brakes, the squeal of tires, the crunching of metal as they hit the massive truck head on, the shattering of glass as the windshield shattered, Scott's yelling. All this hit Jean at once and she gasped, every muscle in her body tensing, her eyes went out of focus.
"Jean!" Kitty gasped, rushing forward to grasp her good arm. "Shh, it's okay, it's over!" She tried to calm the older girl
"Kurt! Get the nurse!" Ororo yelled. The fuzzy mutant immediately vanished in a puff of smoke.
"No, I'm. . . I'm okay." Jean gasped.
"Shh, lay down, the nurse is coming." Ororo told her.
"What nurse? We don't have a nurse." Jean mumbled even as she allowed Ororo to push her back down into the soft bed.
"She's from the local hospital." Ororo explained, "Her son was a mutant, but he was killed by gang members. She now helps any mutant she can."
Jean was unable to reply as Kurt reappeared just then, his hand wrapped around the arm of a middle aged woman in a crisp, white, nurses uniform. The strange woman hurried forward. "What's wrong? Are you feeling any pain?"
"No . . ."
"Good." The woman nodded. "I gave you a shot of a strong pain-killer earlier. When it wears off, you may feel a slight ache in your arm." She smiled encouragingly at Jean. "All in all, you got off pretty easily. Just a few bruises and a broken arm. You certainly faired a lot better than your friend."
"My friend? You mean Scott? What happened to him?" A growing fear suddenly took sprout inside of Jean.
The nurse frowned slightly. Then, hesitantly she said, "I'm afraid Scott is in a coma."
* * * * *
With a groan, Scott picked himself up off the ground. There was a dull ache in the back of his head. He wearily rubbed at it with his hand. When he pulled it away, there was a blade of grass in his hand.
"Grass?"
Startled, he looked up and for the first time, he realized that he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He was in the middle of a meadow, and he was in his Cyclops outfit minus the visor. He still had his sun-glasses on. Surrounded on all sides by tall, lush grass, Scott could see that a thick forest surrounded the field, and way off in the distance he could see mountains. The air was warm, and the sun was full in the sky. A pleasantly cool wind started up then, caressing his skin and playing with his hair. Scott took a deep breath. He could smell honey-suckle. Then he smelled something else: smoke.
Turning around, Scott saw the source of the smoke. There was a small fire burning in the middle of the meadow. Since he had nothing else to do, Scott walked to it.
It really was a small fire, just a few flames desperately licking at ashes and a few glowing coals. Scott wondered why anyone would start a fire out here, especially when it could have started a forest fire that no one would probably see until it was too big to stop. Shaking his head, he started to stomp it out.
"No! Don't do that!"
"Huh?" Scott halted mid-step and whirled to see who had spoken.
He saw a young couple coming toward him. The man was tall and slim, he had dark brown hair that looked a lot like Scott's. The woman was slightly shorter than the man, and was very slender. Long blonde hair flowed down her back in waves. Of course, Scott didn't see any of the bright colors, but he did recognize the two people.
Scott stepped away from the glowing flames and stared open-mouthed at the couple. They reached him and stopped, both smiling pleasantly. "Hello, Scott." The man greeted him.
"Who . . . Who are you?!" Scott demanded, the last part coming out with anger that steadily grew. Surely these people couldn't be who he thought they were, could they?
"Why, Scott! Don't you recognize us?" The woman exclaimed.
"You, your . . . "
"We're your parents."
Scott continued to stare in shock. "No, No you can't be. My parents are dead!"
The woman nodded sadly. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
Scott finally managed to get past his shock enough to make a realization. "If you're really my parents, then . . . Am I dead?"
"No, you're not dead." Scott's dad laughed lightly. "You're in a coma."
"A coma . . .?" Scott was still having trouble understanding.
"Yes, you see, this is your mind. Your 'mind's eye' if you will." Scott's dad explained.
"So, none of this is real?" Scott questioned.
"Oh, no, this is all very much real." His father assured him.
"Scott, you have to make a decision." Scott's mother informed him. "Your father and I are only here to help guide you a little."
"What decision?"
The father put his hand on his first-born son's shoulder. "That's what I was saying. You're in a coma. locked in the deepest recesses of your mind." He waved his other hand around, indicating the meadow and forest. He turned Scott in the direction of the dyeing fire then, "And that," he pointed at the flames, "Is your life."
"What? My life?"
His father nodded. "Yes. So long as that fire burns, you will live. But once it goes out, . . . well, you won't live. Understand?"
"Not really. I get the fire thing, but, what decision am I to make." Scott asked.
"You have to decide to either feed the fire, or kill it."
Scott turned and looked at his mother, who had spoken. "You mean decide if I want to live or die?" She nodded. "Well that doesn't seem very hard."
"Maybe not at first," Scott's dad cautioned, "But if you give it some thought, it may not be as easy a decision as you think."
"What do you mean? If I die, I'll be reunited with both of you, right?" At their nods, Scott continued. "Then it's obvious what I'll chose."
"Scott . . ."
"What?" He turned to his father. "Don't you WANT to be with me?"
"Yes, I do, but Scott, We'll be with you no matter what. Everyone dies. We will be reunited sooner or later."
"What's wrong with sooner?"
"Think of what you'll be leaving behind." His mother answered. "Granted you'll never feel pain again, or never have to worry about accidentally hurting someone just by looking at them, but you'll leave all your friends behind too."
"But I'll be reunited with them too, when they die." Scott pointed out.
"Yes, but you'll miss everything they do in their lives. You won't be a part of it." His mother countered his point with her own.
Scott paused, he hadn't thought of that.
"We are very proud of you, Scott. We're proud of what you do as an X-man. You really make a difference in this world. We want you to live. Life has many pains and unpleasant experiences, but it also has more than enough joy and love to make it all worth-while." Scott's father spoke with a passion. He knew what it was to have a life cut short, and he didn't want his son to have any of those regrets he had. "But it's your decision, Scott. We can't force you to chose one way or the other." He turned and went back to stand next to his wife.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Scott was alarmed.
"We can't stay here. We came only to give you a message, and we have done our jobs." His father turned to go, but his mother came forward and embraced him.
"Scott, just promise me one thing." She whispered.
"Anything."
"Please, really think hard about what will happen as a result of your choice. Think about all the results." She begged. "Don't act on impulse. You may regret it the rest of your time." With this, she kissed him lightly on the forehead and then turned to go.
Scott watched as both his parents vanished into thin air. A breeze picked up then, and ever so faintly, Scott heard the words, "We love you, son."
* * * * *
Okay, well's thats the first part. Anyone intrested in more? If not I won't bother to post it. So if you want more than you gotta review. You know how? You click in the little green box below and write your heart out. So why are you still reading this? Write! Please!
Crash and Burn
By Skye Dragon
Skye's rambling spot: Hi! Me agian. Heh, I wrote another fic about Scott and his parents. Acutally, his parents aren't in too very much of this. Er, anyway, This fic is an AU in which no ones knows that Alex is still alive . . . not yet anyway. Reviews are most welcome, even bad ones. My only request is if you tell me you hate this story, then I ask that you tell me WHY you hate the story. If you tell me why, then I can be sure to not repeat whatever mistake I made that made you hate my fic. Get it? Okay, good. Now, enough with me. Enjoy the story!
* * * * *
"So do you want to go to Jessica's party, Friday?"
Scott looked over at the person in the passenger seat of his car. "Not particularly, why? Do you?"
Jean smiled. "Maybe."
Scott raised an eyebrow at her, still keeping his eyes trained on the road as he drove. "That's not an answer." He commented dryly. He put on the brakes as they approached a red light
Jean's smile grew and she leaned back into her seat, the seat-belt tightening and then loosing across her chest. After a brief pause, she said, "Yea, I think I would like to. It'll probably be more fun than Mathew's party was." A sudden glint of light caused her to turn to look at Scott.
Scott had his face turned toward her, and it was the sun glinting red off his glasses that had caught her attention. She couldn't tell what his reaction was due to the sun-glasses, and she abruptly wished he didn't have to wear them. It was annoying that she couldn't read his emotions in his eyes, the window to the soul, as some people call it. It was a fleeting notion, though, and as often as she had it, Jean never dwelled on the thought. It would probably never happen. Not any time soon anyway. Besides, she could usually tell how he was feeling by the way he moved or held his body. And if she couldn't find out that way, well, she WAS a telepath . . .
The horn blaring on the car behind them jolted both teenagers. The light had changed. Startled, Scott jammed his foot down on the gas and took off . . . right into the side of a truck that was running it's own red light . . .
The last thing Jean thought was that some people could be so impatient . . . then all went back.
* * * * *
Disembodied voices flowed through her head, interrupting her sleep.
". . . It was an accident . . ."
". . . Nothing Scott could have done to avoid it . . ."
". . . Coma . . .Broken arm. . ."
". . . Other person's fault . . ."
Jean moaned, trying in vain to block the voices out. Why wouldn't they go away? They were so loud! And she was so tired . . .
"Jean? Jean!" One of the voices attempted to wake her. "Jean! Wake up!" She moaned again, and a hand griped her shoulder and began to shake her. "Come on! Wake up!"
". . . Stop . . ." She croaked, feebly trying to bat the hand away.
There was an irritated growl from the person and then another voice sounded: "Here, let me try . . ." Quite suddenly, something very cold and very WET was splashed all over her face.
"GAH!!!" The trip back to reality wasn't fun. Jean sat up and rubbed furiously at the water all over her face. "What the?!? What's going on!?!" She demanded, still very much befuddled by her rude awakening. She blinked confusedly up at the people standing around her bed.
"It's about time! Are you, like, okay?" Jean blinked several times to bring the speaker into focus. When this was accomplished, she found herself looking into the concerned face of Kitty. Behind her were Kurt, Evan, Rouge, and Ororo. All looked at her anxiously.
"Huh?" Jean found herself lacking the ability to say anything intelligent.
"Does anything hurt?" Ororo asked, her voice gentle, yet firm.
"Ah . . . my arm feels like Blob sat on it." She managed to respond.
Ororo smiled a little at the comment. "That's to be expected. You broke it."
"I broke my arm?" Jean looked down and only now realized that she was laying in a bed in the medical ward at the institute. Her left arm was in a thick cast. "But . . .how . . . ?"
"You don't remember?" Evan asked. "You and Scott had a car wreck. Some idiot ran into you!"
"Evan!" Ororo's tone was demanding that time. The mutant fell silent, the light of anger still flickering in his eyes.
Jean stared at Evan for a moment more, before all the memories came rushing back. The jerk on the car as Scott slammed on his brakes, the squeal of tires, the crunching of metal as they hit the massive truck head on, the shattering of glass as the windshield shattered, Scott's yelling. All this hit Jean at once and she gasped, every muscle in her body tensing, her eyes went out of focus.
"Jean!" Kitty gasped, rushing forward to grasp her good arm. "Shh, it's okay, it's over!" She tried to calm the older girl
"Kurt! Get the nurse!" Ororo yelled. The fuzzy mutant immediately vanished in a puff of smoke.
"No, I'm. . . I'm okay." Jean gasped.
"Shh, lay down, the nurse is coming." Ororo told her.
"What nurse? We don't have a nurse." Jean mumbled even as she allowed Ororo to push her back down into the soft bed.
"She's from the local hospital." Ororo explained, "Her son was a mutant, but he was killed by gang members. She now helps any mutant she can."
Jean was unable to reply as Kurt reappeared just then, his hand wrapped around the arm of a middle aged woman in a crisp, white, nurses uniform. The strange woman hurried forward. "What's wrong? Are you feeling any pain?"
"No . . ."
"Good." The woman nodded. "I gave you a shot of a strong pain-killer earlier. When it wears off, you may feel a slight ache in your arm." She smiled encouragingly at Jean. "All in all, you got off pretty easily. Just a few bruises and a broken arm. You certainly faired a lot better than your friend."
"My friend? You mean Scott? What happened to him?" A growing fear suddenly took sprout inside of Jean.
The nurse frowned slightly. Then, hesitantly she said, "I'm afraid Scott is in a coma."
* * * * *
With a groan, Scott picked himself up off the ground. There was a dull ache in the back of his head. He wearily rubbed at it with his hand. When he pulled it away, there was a blade of grass in his hand.
"Grass?"
Startled, he looked up and for the first time, he realized that he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He was in the middle of a meadow, and he was in his Cyclops outfit minus the visor. He still had his sun-glasses on. Surrounded on all sides by tall, lush grass, Scott could see that a thick forest surrounded the field, and way off in the distance he could see mountains. The air was warm, and the sun was full in the sky. A pleasantly cool wind started up then, caressing his skin and playing with his hair. Scott took a deep breath. He could smell honey-suckle. Then he smelled something else: smoke.
Turning around, Scott saw the source of the smoke. There was a small fire burning in the middle of the meadow. Since he had nothing else to do, Scott walked to it.
It really was a small fire, just a few flames desperately licking at ashes and a few glowing coals. Scott wondered why anyone would start a fire out here, especially when it could have started a forest fire that no one would probably see until it was too big to stop. Shaking his head, he started to stomp it out.
"No! Don't do that!"
"Huh?" Scott halted mid-step and whirled to see who had spoken.
He saw a young couple coming toward him. The man was tall and slim, he had dark brown hair that looked a lot like Scott's. The woman was slightly shorter than the man, and was very slender. Long blonde hair flowed down her back in waves. Of course, Scott didn't see any of the bright colors, but he did recognize the two people.
Scott stepped away from the glowing flames and stared open-mouthed at the couple. They reached him and stopped, both smiling pleasantly. "Hello, Scott." The man greeted him.
"Who . . . Who are you?!" Scott demanded, the last part coming out with anger that steadily grew. Surely these people couldn't be who he thought they were, could they?
"Why, Scott! Don't you recognize us?" The woman exclaimed.
"You, your . . . "
"We're your parents."
Scott continued to stare in shock. "No, No you can't be. My parents are dead!"
The woman nodded sadly. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
Scott finally managed to get past his shock enough to make a realization. "If you're really my parents, then . . . Am I dead?"
"No, you're not dead." Scott's dad laughed lightly. "You're in a coma."
"A coma . . .?" Scott was still having trouble understanding.
"Yes, you see, this is your mind. Your 'mind's eye' if you will." Scott's dad explained.
"So, none of this is real?" Scott questioned.
"Oh, no, this is all very much real." His father assured him.
"Scott, you have to make a decision." Scott's mother informed him. "Your father and I are only here to help guide you a little."
"What decision?"
The father put his hand on his first-born son's shoulder. "That's what I was saying. You're in a coma. locked in the deepest recesses of your mind." He waved his other hand around, indicating the meadow and forest. He turned Scott in the direction of the dyeing fire then, "And that," he pointed at the flames, "Is your life."
"What? My life?"
His father nodded. "Yes. So long as that fire burns, you will live. But once it goes out, . . . well, you won't live. Understand?"
"Not really. I get the fire thing, but, what decision am I to make." Scott asked.
"You have to decide to either feed the fire, or kill it."
Scott turned and looked at his mother, who had spoken. "You mean decide if I want to live or die?" She nodded. "Well that doesn't seem very hard."
"Maybe not at first," Scott's dad cautioned, "But if you give it some thought, it may not be as easy a decision as you think."
"What do you mean? If I die, I'll be reunited with both of you, right?" At their nods, Scott continued. "Then it's obvious what I'll chose."
"Scott . . ."
"What?" He turned to his father. "Don't you WANT to be with me?"
"Yes, I do, but Scott, We'll be with you no matter what. Everyone dies. We will be reunited sooner or later."
"What's wrong with sooner?"
"Think of what you'll be leaving behind." His mother answered. "Granted you'll never feel pain again, or never have to worry about accidentally hurting someone just by looking at them, but you'll leave all your friends behind too."
"But I'll be reunited with them too, when they die." Scott pointed out.
"Yes, but you'll miss everything they do in their lives. You won't be a part of it." His mother countered his point with her own.
Scott paused, he hadn't thought of that.
"We are very proud of you, Scott. We're proud of what you do as an X-man. You really make a difference in this world. We want you to live. Life has many pains and unpleasant experiences, but it also has more than enough joy and love to make it all worth-while." Scott's father spoke with a passion. He knew what it was to have a life cut short, and he didn't want his son to have any of those regrets he had. "But it's your decision, Scott. We can't force you to chose one way or the other." He turned and went back to stand next to his wife.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Scott was alarmed.
"We can't stay here. We came only to give you a message, and we have done our jobs." His father turned to go, but his mother came forward and embraced him.
"Scott, just promise me one thing." She whispered.
"Anything."
"Please, really think hard about what will happen as a result of your choice. Think about all the results." She begged. "Don't act on impulse. You may regret it the rest of your time." With this, she kissed him lightly on the forehead and then turned to go.
Scott watched as both his parents vanished into thin air. A breeze picked up then, and ever so faintly, Scott heard the words, "We love you, son."
* * * * *
Okay, well's thats the first part. Anyone intrested in more? If not I won't bother to post it. So if you want more than you gotta review. You know how? You click in the little green box below and write your heart out. So why are you still reading this? Write! Please!