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The thought of having a routine has always comforted the X-men’s field commander Scott Summers. Despite their hectic lives, Scott finds a way to keep his routine no matter what. From the moment he wakes at 5 am, Scott is checking off his to-do list one by one throughout the day, checking it twice by nightfall to make sure his eyes don’t deceive him like they tend to do.
Even after a rough mission like today, Scott was mentally checking that everything was in order and everyone was being tended to. Jubilee was getting her arm fixed up by Hank while Rogue was being comforted by Gambit, who was just a little bit away from the group.
“Cyclops, are you sure I can’t interest you in a small standard exam once we get back? That was a relatively large blast yet you seemingly came out unscathed.” Hank offered, after closing up his kit and letting Jubilee free from his torment (help.)
“I’m fin-“ Before Scott could even finish his sentence he was interrupted.
“He’ll take the exam, Hank,” Logan said gruffly.
Scott shot him a silent look that said ‘What are you doing I’m fine.’
Logan couldn’t see his eyes and his visor covered his eyebrows but he knew Scott’s facial tics. The slight way his nose would flare for a second signaling he’s glaring or his cheeks rising slightly from him squinting his eyes when he was deep I thought.
Logan gave him an equal glare that said ‘You’re getting the damn checkup stop acting like a child.’
Scott saw Logan’s look and sighed. He couldn’t find it in himself to care to argue. He was too tired and his head hurt. He just wanted a nice bath with his lavender petals and candles.
The Blackbird once again fell back into quiet silence as Cyclops focused on getting them back home smoothly.
Scott thought back to the mission and was already finding ways where he messed up, ways the mission could’ve been compromised by him. Scott was field commander for a reason; Professor Xavier trusted him to lead the team for a reason, and yet, Scott couldn’t see it.
Scott wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even Xavier (although he’s sure he’s aware), but since Scott could remember, he’s longed for a sense of normalcy and belonging. The X-men are his family, no doubt, but even family can seem like strangers. Scott glanced around the uncharacteristically quiet Blackbird and couldn’t help but sense something was off. Maybe they need a team-building exercise at some later date.
Shaking the constant doubt from his mind, Scott landed the Blackbird with a slight bump before the team started to leave to meet back in the war room for a debrief.
“You call that a landing?” Logan asked with a teasing tone.
“Okay well next time, you do it,” Scott stated plainly.
Wolverine helped Jubilee down before offering his hand to Scott, “need help, Slim?” he joked with a wolfish grin.
Cyclops grunted, rolling his eyes as he hopped down, “from you? Doubtful,” Scott shot back with the faintest of smiles.
“Oh gag…” Jubilee muttered with a roll of her eyes, “Now come on! Last one to the war room is a rotten egg!” she exclaimed before taking off.
Wolverine, the softie that he is, indulged her by chasing after her. Scott? He lingered behind as usual, preferring to take his time and catch his breath although, this time he couldn’t seem to. His vision started to blur together, his mind growing hazy, and the world dull around him. While Scott was no stranger to these feelings, they were never this debilitating. It felt as though his skull was being crushed and his brain juiced. The generally calm and collected leader was currently holding himself up against the wall, sweating profusely, trying to will the world to stand still for just a moment. Scott managed to look up to see a short blurred figure running over worriedly while his panicked shouts were quite muffled.
Scott glanced from the spot he was to down the hall, realizing…oh he didn’t get as far as he thought before losing balance and falling against the wall.
-
Logan was only slightly ahead of Scott when they started so imagine his surprise when they were in the war room waiting for their beloved leader for him not to show. Logan grumbled to himself about Scott taking his sweet ass time as he walked out to find him holding himself up, sweating and mumbling senselessly to himself.
“Hank!” Logan called.
Then he fell, and Logan's never run quicker in his life. Immediately catching Scott, making sure that stupidly beautiful head of his didn’t get smashed.
Logan found himself resting against the wall, holding Scott’s head carefully on his lap when Hank came running out along with the others.
“Oh dear, there’s not a moment to spare. We must hurry. Logan, carry him to the infirmary, Jean, Professor, if you’d be so kind to follow. A psychic could prove to be useful in this instance.” Beast directed.
Logan carried Scott to Hank’s lab before setting him gently down on the cot.
-
“You call that a landing?” Logan bit harshly.
Scott was taken aback by Logan’s tone. Not only did this feel old, like deja vu, but it was just mean. There was no teasing tone or wolfish grin, it was simply bitter and cold. Scott felt his chest tighten and his jaw clench.
“I don’t see you doing any better.” He retorted as the rest of their team flooded out of the Blackbird as quickly as possible, Logan following along. There was no fire back, no argument, Scott gave him a great opening and he didn’t take it?
As the others walked to the war room, Scott couldn’t help but feel as though they were judging him, even more than usual. Scott sat in his normal seat, staring at his normal spot at the center of the table. His perfect routine. After the meeting, he’d go back to his room and shower before listening to a podcast and tidying up.
Scott heard Xavier speaking but he found himself unable to focus on what was being said.
“Cyclops. Are you listening?” Xavier’s voice boomed.
Scott’s eyes jumped to look at the professor, “Yes sir, sorry. I seem to be distracted…”
“Your distractions are detrimental to the team. If you had focused on Muir Island then maybe Jean would still be alive.” Xavier said harshly.
Scott’s eyes widened, “what?” he asked panicked, “what do you mean she’s dead? How?” Scott asked, standing up.
“You don’t remember Scott? You killed her.”
Scott suddenly couldn’t breathe. He felt the judgment of his fellow X-men, side-eyeing him, whispering, he could’ve sworn he heard Rogue call him a monster. He felt his whole world turn, it felt as if his lungs were being crushed, and there was no way out of it
-
Beep beep beep beep beep beep
“What’s that? What's goin' on?” Logan demanded, looking towards the monitors.
“Hank? Hank, what’s happening?” Jean asked worriedly, she was about to try and probe Scott’s mind before his activity started to shift.
“His brain activity is off the charts. I’m not sure but it seems as if he’s fighting something.” Hank elaborated while he listened to Scott’s unintelligible mumbles.
“So then we go in and take whoever it is out,” Logan said, his claws extending with a soft zhing.
“Unfortunately, that very well could kill Scott as well. Professor-”
“Already on it Hank,” Charles said as he rested his hands near Scott’s head trying to get a read before being thrown back by an invisible force. Logan managed to help him back into his chair before looking to the table where Scott started to seize, staring in shock.
“Hank! Do something!” Jean begged, eyes wide, terrified for her husband.
Hank quickly administered a sedative and soon, Scott’s seizing came to a slow.
“Something is not right…Scott is fighting someone but he’s fighting himself.”
“What does that mean Professor?” Jean asked quietly.
“It means Scott is fighting himself.”
“So how do we get him back?” Wolverine asked immediately.
“Unfortunately…only time will tell, but Hank and I will continue searching for an answer down here.”
“Now that’s a whole lotta bullshit.” Logan seethed, unleashing his claws before Jean pulled him away.
“Logan!” She said, “Not here. Not now.” She said softly, “Please.” She said cupping his cheek gently.
Logan’s jaw clenched, “Sorry, Jeannie.” He said, resting his hand over hers. He didn’t have to elaborate. He was worried about Scott. They all were.
The professor cleared his throat, “I think it’s best the two of you go get washed up. Hank and I shall need time alone to work but if there’s any change we will let you know,” he said.
Normally, Logan would’ve refused but he looked next to him and saw how…sad Jean looked, how scared, and if he couldn’t help Slim, he sure as hell could help her.
“Come on Jean, let’s let them work,” he mumbled, holding her arm and walking out with her in near shambles.
-
Scott had lost track of time. He was currently hunched over in the tub, shivering slightly as the cold breeze hit his wet skin and his cold water. He had cried so much that he was convinced a good part of this bath water was actually his tears.
Once he realized he had no tears left, Scott managed to pull himself up and out of the tub. His limbs felt heavy like they were covered in lead or adamantium. It made him wonder if Logan felt this way daily.
Scott managed to make it to his bed and fell onto it, his vision blurring and unfocused. Suddenly an aggressive knock startled him out of his thoughts. Scott stood up and sulked to the door, a bit hopeful as he knew Logan’s knock.
Scott opened the door and Logan’s face was one of pure hatred and bitterness.
“You left your book in my room.” He said, simply tossing it at him and turning to leave.
“Logan, wait,” he said, cursing himself for how weak his voice sounded but Logan interrupted.
“Listen, Scott, I don’t know what sick little fantasy you have in your head but I sure as hell ain’t gonna be a part of it. There is no you and me. I tolerated your worthless, annoying, high-strung, useless self so Jean would have me and now you killed her. We are nothing. You? You’re nothing” Logan snarled before leaving Scott there.
Scott was speechless, hurt, and angry but he didn’t get a chance to express any of those emotions as he felt his chest tighten and the world start spinning again. The ground slowly disappeared, the world crumbling around him until Scott Summers was falling into the abyss of his mind.
–
The leader soon woke up from cold water being dumped over his head or was he submerged? His brain was fuzzy and he felt strange, off balance in some way. Scott shot up, gasping for air and hacking away.
“What was that…?” Scott sputtered and hit his chest, glancing around.
It didn’t take a genius to know where Scott was. He looked into the distance, seeing the smoke billow, hearing the loud crash before looking down where Alex should’ve been only to find nobody there.
“Alex?” Scott called out worriedly, “Alex! Come on, this isn’t funny!” Scott panicked before digging through plants and bushes, trying to find the only family he had left. As Scott searched the area, he felt strange. This was wrong, Alex was with him, and he knew he was with him. He sang to him as they fell, this is wrong .
“Listen, I don’t know who you are or what tricks you’re playing but get out of my mind!” said a much younger Scott as he stood up, looking around.
“This isn’t real,” Scott murmured as if to reassure himself that he was completely fine. “This isn’t real…” he repeated, willing himself to believe it.
The thought dawned on him, if this wasn’t real then maybe the previous memories weren’t real either.
“Jean…” Scott breathed out softly, feeling some sort of hope for the first time since finding out.
–
‘Jean…Jean…’
Jean glanced up from her chair immediately feeling the psychic rapport she shared with Scott. She looked over at him resting. It’s been two days and Jean was a wreck. Logan was angry but refused to talk about it as if speaking about his own pain would overshadow Jeans. No, instead, he found refuge in the Chapel in town, head bowed in the pew, sitting quietly, alone with his thoughts.
The other X-men came and went but Jean and Logan refused to leave Scott alone for even a minute. One of them was always with him, waiting for him to come back to them.
Jean quietly made her way over to Scott, focusing once more on gently probing his mind. While Jean was able to see into his mind, there was a barrier preventing her from reaching out to him. She was only able to observe and what she saw was pure pain and confusion, as if his own personal hell. Jean kept trying to reach out for Scott, calling for him to wake up but he was merely running away from whatever was chasing him. Eventually, Jean was forced back out again, Scott pleading for the world to just leave him alone.
Jean tried once more to try and take some strain off of Scott but instead, she saw Scott’s worst fear. A fear, that in his head, had come true.
Logan came in, holding tea for Jean and some whiskey for him before dropping both as Jean was levitating, eyes glowing, power pulsating from here.
“Not you too,” Logan grunted, as he grabbed Jean and pulled her back into his chest, “down girl,” he murmured into her hair as Jean cried gently, wrapping her head around the mess that was Scott’s mind.
“It’s bad Logan…” She said her voice barely above a whisper.
“Whaddya see Jeannie?” Logan asked as he rubbed her hand gently.
“He’s hidden so much from me…” Jean said sadly. “There’s so much doubt and self-hatred…” she said quietly as she held Scott’s hand, rubbing it gently.
Logan glanced at Scott and back at Jean. He needed Scott to be okay. It was only two days and Logan missed the senseless arguments and banter. He missed the secret closet rendezvous post-meeting makeout sessions. He missed Scott. They needed him back, all of them.
–
Scott was currently wandering mumbling to himself, trying to find some sense of what was happening and where he even was before he collapsed, listening to the voices floating around him.
“You’re nothing.”
“You’re pathetic”
“You’re a freak.”
“Weak child,”
“Alien,”
Scott kept trying to get the voices out of his head, he pulled his hair and clawed at his suit, trying to get the suffocating spandex off his overstimulated body.
As Scott listened to the voices, he felt two sides fighting against each other. On one hand, he agreed with them. Since he was a kid, Scott had been trying to find a place to belong. He’s adapted to survive and belong, never looking someone directly in the eyes, never taking his glasses off even if his powers were gone, he’s always been safe.
On the other hand, Scott denies every useless thought that plagues his mind. He’s not pathetic, he’s not weak. He is Scott Summers, leader of the X-men, he is paving the way for mutant and human coexistence and he is not weak. He is the one who always has a backup plan for his backup plan. He is not weak or pathetic. He is a fighter and while he’s stubborn as a mule, people love him.
“They talk to you because they have to, not because they want to,”
Scott grits his teeth.
“Your name is Scott Summers, codename Cyclops. You are an X-man. You’re married to Jean Grey and boyfriend to Logan Howlett. Your name is Scott Summers…” Scott mumbled repeatedly, trying to ground himself.
At some point, Scott had collapsed once again, laying on the rocky ground, heaving and whispering. He pushed himself up and groaned,
“Stay down,” the voice said, as if stepping on Scott to keep him down. “They don’t need you. They don’t care for you, just give up.”
Scott wanted to give up so badly. He wanted nothing more than to just lie there and let this sick illusion swallow him whole but he couldn’t do that. He had people waiting for him, they don’t have to care for him but he sure as hell cares for them.
Cyclops who was struggling to form words at this point, managed to focus enough energy to shoot an optic blast into the ground, propelling him and whatever invisible force crushing him into the astral plane. Scott panicked for a second, thinking he had messed up before he was being yanked back faster than the speed of light.
–
It’s been five days since Scott first fell and throughout those days, his room was never empty.
Jean and Logan stayed the most, Hank moved the spare cot closer so Jean could sleep next to Scott while Logan sat up all night, watching the monitors, willing them to change for the better or at least stay the same. Neither of them were sleeping and Storm often came to coax them both into joining them for a meal (and a shower in Logan’s case).
Hank also found himself losing sleep over his teammate and friend, working overtime trying to figure out what could biologically be wrong but it seemed to be all psychological which wasn’t exactly his forte. For once, Hank had no idea what to do and that scared him.
Jubilee often spent time with Wolverine, she didn’t want to be alone and she didn’t want him alone either. She was worried he was one argument with Jean away from leaving them again.
Currently, the X-men were all crowded around Scott’s bed. Rogue was sitting in Gambit’s lap with Logan anxiously pacing behind. The team had fallen asleep in the infirmary the night before, Xavier suggesting they all take some time together, as a family.
Scott slowly felt his consciousness return yet kept his eyes closed, instead opting to start waving his hand around in search of his glasses. The entire team glanced over, murmuring while Hank adjusted his pillows and helped him sit up.
“His glasses, he can’t see without his glasses,” Logan said firmly looking for them, seeing they had fallen onto the floor. Logan picked them up and gently placed them on his face, “Good to have you back, Slim.” Logan said.
Scott didn’t open his eyes. He waved his hand around, Logan’s there, so where’s Jean?
“Jean?” He asked. He couldn’t risk it if he opened his eyes and she wasn’t there…
But thankfully, Scott felt Jean grasp his hand, “I’m right here, darling,” she said, kissing his hand gently.
Already feeling pathetic, Scott gripped Jean’s hand, as if to make sure she was real; trying to hold himself together despite falling apart at the seams. Scott couldn’t stop the choked-up feeling before the wave of anguish fell and he started to weep, not sob, but the softest most broken cry they had ever heard from their seemingly perfect field commander. He was just so confused as to what was real anymore.
“Emotions are high, perhaps we shall leave the blossoming trio alone,” Hank said, clearing his throat, quickly clearing the infirmary as they looked back worriedly at the puddle that was Scott Summers on the metal table.
“You’re not real, this isn’t real, I’m not where I’m supposed to be, this isn’t right, someone make it stop,” Scott said through broken sobs struggling uselessly against Logan’s grip.
“Scott! Scott, listen to me, you’re okay, you’re safe in the infirmary in the mansion.” Jean said softly, attempting to use her powers to soothe him which seemed to set him off more.
“No.” Scott said, kicking and fighting Logan, “Stay out of my head, stay out!” He said, “You’re not real, you can’t be,” Scott said.
Jean stumbled back with a cry, holding her head. Scott’s thoughts were so…messy, lacking the usual order and filing system he had perfected, it was just a mess of swirling thoughts and memories.
“Oh my love,” Jean said softly, reaching out for him as Logan gently subdued Scott by using a pressure point.
“F’give me, Scott,” Logan murmured, kissing his cheek as he fell limply into his arms.
Scott laid there, although not peacefully. His brows were furrowed and he still seemed to be fighting something.
“We should lay him back down and go get Hank,” Jean said softly, resting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.
Logan grunted, “he’s been cooped up in here for five days. He should at least be in his own damn room,” he argued against Jean, looking down at Cyclops’ strong yet soft features.
Jean bit the inside of her cheek, “Fine, I’ll go talk to Hank and see about setting some monitors up in his room. You get him settled,” she said, leaning down to kiss both Logan and Scott’s cheeks.
Logan carried Scott to his room and set him down gently, moving the covers to get into bed with Scott, he placed them back over them both just the way Scott liked, covering his legs but his torso was “exposed for optimal warmth and airflow” he defended to which Logan snorted and threw a pillow at him. Now he missed those times, the light-hearted banter followed by an endeared laugh. Logan would kill to hear Scott’s laugh.
Closing an eye, Logan wrapped his arms around Scott protectively, as if to make sure nothing could touch him while also staying on alert for anyone who might disturb Scott resting. Unfortunately, Logan was lacking due to the lack of sleep and just general emotional turmoil of the week and he dozed off.
Scott found himself waking up, listening to a deep rumbling snore, he jostled Logan who shot up, claws out, barely missing Scott’s neck, cutting a wire. The color drained from his face.
“Did I?”
“No, just woke up,” Scott mumbled, rubbing his eyes making some distance between himself and Logan.
Logan’s face shifted as he finished cutting up the rest of the monitors to get the beeping to cease, “why’re you actin’ weird Scott?” Logan muttered.
Scott let out a bitter laugh, “weird.” He repeated, feeling how the word sounded on his own tongue. “That’s me,” he said, “why’re you still here Logan?” He asked coldly.
“Because I care,” Logan said which never came easy to him but it seemed like Scott forgot.
Scott looked at Logan, his face cold and Logan could feel the energy building behind his lenses.
“Are you only with me to get to Jean?” Scott asked coldly. This wasn’t his Logan and that wasn’t his Jean.
Logan’s brows furrowed before he growled, “Now what the fuck kind of question is that?” He snapped, “Now here I thought we were makin’ progress but it seems to me you just think I’m some lowlife two-timing dirtbag.” Logan spat angrily, hurt that Scott could even imagine such a thing. “You and Jean asked me to join your little relationship. I said yes because I care about both of yous. Do you get that Scott Summers? It was never just about Jean,” He said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, as if pleading for Scott to hear him. “I love you Scott Summers. I love both you and Jean and don’t you dare doubt that for a second.” He said.
Scott felt tears well up again, goddamn how much could one grown ass man cry in one day?
“But I saw-”
“You were in a coma for five days,” Logan said sharply, grabbing Scott’s shoulder, not aggressively but to make him listen, to make him hear him. “You were in a coma,” he said softer, looking into the red lenses, “you lookin' at me?” Logan asked firmly.
Scott nodded, glancing up at Logan through a soft red haze.
“You were in a coma. This is real life. This is your life. Jean’s alive, I’m right here. None of us are going anywhere. You have two of the best psychics in the world and they can help you.” Logan said, moving to hold Scott in his arms instead, “you just gotta let them help you Scott…” he murmured into his hair. “Please, let them help you,” he said, rubbing his arm gently.
Scott sighed softly, leaning into Logan’s warmth. “I don’t want them in my mind…” he said.
“Then we find you some other way,” Logan said as if it were simple.
Jean knocked gently before letting herself in, carrying three mugs on a tray.
“You don’t have to be treated by a psychic,” she said gently, hearing the conversation from outside, sitting on the bed and reaching for Scott’s hand. “There’s different types of therapy, human therapy, no probing,” she said, rubbing his hand gently.
“Yeah, maybe,” Scott said, taking a sip of the soothing tea made to perfection with one spoonful of honey steeped for 10 minutes. He set the mug aside and rolled over, making room for Jean on the other side which she squeezed into, leaning her head against Logan’s shoulder and allowing Scott to simply touch her, to reassure himself they were real and he was out of that twisted mind prison.
Since Scott woke up, his mind had been a hazy mess of memories flickering in and out but lying with Jean and Logan, he felt a sense of calm fall over his mind, a hazy comfort that left him feeling safe to let his guard down for a moment of peace. Whatever happened tomorrow, Scott and his team would handle it but for now, he wanted to just exist with the two people he cared the most about.