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extremities( because she asked for headcanon. Rolling with the comics origins and no he's not a hooker )
It had been a month since Scott came to the Xavier Institute, not that anyone was there, except for some staff and the Professor himself, but the Professor kept calling it that and so Scott did too. Of course, the Professor also told him to call it home, but the word had so many connotations to it that whenever the Professor brought it up, Scott just looked sulkily at the floor. He could do that much, blindfold or not.
It was around then that Mr. Lehnsherr showed up. Scott looked up from the noise - footsteps. The Professor and himself had been working on some puzzles, while the Professor showed him the news from his eyes. Scott liked to multi-task and whenever he could keep up, the Professor beamed at him. Sort of. Some things about the Professor, he could just sense. Scott liked to think it was because of who the Professor was, rather than the what.
A point of view, Scott realized much later, when he was older, that Mr. Lehnsherr didn't welcome.
The footsteps stopped in front of him and Scott resisted the urge to twitch. The whirl of the Professor's wheelchair was also in front of him, so Scott calmed himself down. He could do that much at least.
"You're blinding him?"
"He can't control it, Erik. And we can talk about it later," Code for adult: Not in front of Scott. Well, Scott knew how to sneak around. He straightened his back and waited, "Scott, this is Mr. Lehnsherr, an old friend of mine. He's very busy most of the time, but as long as you stay here, you'll be seeing him a lot."
Code: You can stay here as long as you want.
The man, Mr. Lehnsherr, didn't say anything, but Scott heard a sharp sound (breath, incorrectly drawn in. He was blind, not dumb). He simply said, "Nice to meet you--," and then Mr. Lehnsherr's hands were on his blindfold.
No.
Scott pushed him away, hearing the man fall back. He didn't care, because he screamed at them, "Don't touch that!"
"Scott--" That was the Professor, and he was reaching for him, but now Scott couldn't stop screaming, don't touch it, don't make me kill you, don't come near me again until his voice was hoarse and he shook with fear.
Then he heard Mr. Lehnsherr say quietly, "Don't let it control you."
Scott ran away. It didn't matter if he ran into a wall.
Two years later, Jean came to the Institute. Her parents dropped her off, and there were many teary hugs and smiles to this gangly girl with too much hair. Scott could tell she never really brushed it properly, but that didn't matter because everyone loved Jean. She could move things with her mind, she knew how to smile without scowling (something Scott has yet to learn), she could twist a lock of her hair cutely when she was stuck on something. Jean was perfect. The first telekinetic. The Professor and Mr Lehnsherr (as much as Mr. Lehnsherr pretended to care) liked her.
And Scott hated her. He hated that she always tried to talk to him, hated her when she tried to understand what it was like to see everything in reds, hated her when she tried to take his hand when the adults weren't looking. She was so bothersome, but the Professor gave him his long-suffering looks and Scott just bit his lip and let her get away with it.
So when he joined her outside one night, it surprised them both. Jean was lying on the grass (something the Professor always told her off for, and something Scott will enjoy tattling about), her long weird-red hair splayed over the grass. She was staring at the stars with such a wide look of stupidity that even Scott had to lie down next to her.
"What are you looking at?"
"Stars."
"Why?"
She looked at him, and for the first time, his breath catches.
"Can your power reach that?"
"Maybe." Scott doesn't know, never tested that out. He was too worried that he'll ruin everything for miles on end. Mr. Lehnsherr told him he was being stupid, but better stupid than being a murderer. Whenever he had these talks with him, the Professor gave him extra candy anyway.
"Can you try?"
Scott hesitated, before pushing up his glasses. The beam hit the clouds, making them crackle. Jean giggled. Scott, miffed, pushed them back down, "There. Well?"
"I think you reached the Heavens."
Baloney, Scott thought, but the clouds parted to reveal an illuminated sky, and Scott didn't say anything at all.
They went back inside, with the Professor and Mr. Lehnsherr looking stern and annoyed.
"Scott, what were you doing out there?" The Professor said calmly.
"Just talking."
"About what?"
"That's it's okay being a mutant."
Jean lit up, the Professor was taken aback, and Mr. Lehnsherr's lip curled.
Scott didn't care anymore though. He went back to sleep, wiping off Jean's cheek kiss and the Professor's warm thoughts at the back of his mind.
Scott liked the Danger Room.
Sometimes, when he needed to think and vent at the same time, he came here, programmed a scenario and threw himself into it. It wasn't the fact that more and more students were coming in (it was), the Professor was busy and Scott was the one taking them around school, reassuring them and helping out (it was), or the fact that Mr. Lehnsherr hadn't left in weeks (it was). Jean told him to relax and cool off whenever his teeth started grinding and so he did.
So, he was working through another scenario when his visor went flying and a piece of metal wrapped around his eyes instead. Panic, blind and furious bled into him, but he couldn't open his eyes. Scott simply clenched his fists and said, "Mr. Lenhsherr."
"Magneto."
Scott wasn't going to call him that. He knows the Professor hates that word, "Can I ask what you're doing to me Mr. Lehnsherr?"
"Training."
"I'm blind."
"I know. You'll fight against me."
This wasn't fair and Scott felt the bubble of panic rise up again, "Did you clear this with the Professor."
"No." and a large piece of metal sends him flying into the wall. At that moment, Scott snapped. He leaped, he dodged, kicked away any large scraps of metal that came his way. He tried to listen, but the blurring sound of metal made it difficult to concentrate. His knee had tiny slivers embedded in it and the wraparound piece of metal around his eyes got tighter and tighter.
But finally, he got a punch in, with years of hatred and anger behind it. Immediately after that, the metal dropped and his visor re-attached itself to his face. But Scott didn't care, wanted to tear the Danger Room apart, wanted to tear Magneto apart, but he settled for saying tightly, "Why?"
"I'm leaving."
"You always leave."
"Not like this."
Scott didn't know what else to say. And like that, Magneto left.
Scott knew his way around cards. The Professor never liked it, preferring chess over poker and black jack, but Scott loved using cards. It was one of the skills he appreciated and honed when he had time, cheating out of errands and duties. After that came the philosophical debates with the Professor, which were equally enjoyable.
He always got away with it too.
Scott had never played cards with Mr. Lehnsherr and it was out of whim that he brought his deck with him into the prison. Mr Lehnsherr, no Magneto just arched an eyebrow at him and gestured with a just-deal-the-cards.
Scott lost miserably. He didn't know why but he did and it smarted. Magneto just chuckled, and said, "We should do it again."
"Maybe," Scott said, because what else could he say? He had the chance to kill him and didn't. He should have, he wanted to, and everyone knew it. Still, they pretended otherwise. Scott knew why Jean does it (out of love), Storm (out of hard realities and better choices). But the Professor would never understand.
Which is why, Scott thought to himself, he's here playing cards with the man who tried to kill one of his students, the same student who wakes up screaming to Erik's memories.
The hate continues to burn blackly in his heart. Scott didn't care.
Scott wrapped his arms around Jean, in the night, thinking about his visor (made for his birthday, presented in an untidy package, bore no mark, but so finely made with metal that no one needed to know), about his time in college ("Prove them wrong, Scott, prove them all wrong"), thinking about the changes in his life and the things he saw (the father he chose and the father he wanted) and thinking about the things that never needed change (The Xavier Institute)
Jean kissed him and they look to the stars.
It had been a month since Scott came to the Xavier Institute, not that anyone was there, except for some staff and the Professor himself, but the Professor kept calling it that and so Scott did too. Of course, the Professor also told him to call it home, but the word had so many connotations to it that whenever the Professor brought it up, Scott just looked sulkily at the floor. He could do that much, blindfold or not.
It was around then that Mr. Lehnsherr showed up. Scott looked up from the noise - footsteps. The Professor and himself had been working on some puzzles, while the Professor showed him the news from his eyes. Scott liked to multi-task and whenever he could keep up, the Professor beamed at him. Sort of. Some things about the Professor, he could just sense. Scott liked to think it was because of who the Professor was, rather than the what.
A point of view, Scott realized much later, when he was older, that Mr. Lehnsherr didn't welcome.
The footsteps stopped in front of him and Scott resisted the urge to twitch. The whirl of the Professor's wheelchair was also in front of him, so Scott calmed himself down. He could do that much at least.
"You're blinding him?"
"He can't control it, Erik. And we can talk about it later," Code for adult: Not in front of Scott. Well, Scott knew how to sneak around. He straightened his back and waited, "Scott, this is Mr. Lehnsherr, an old friend of mine. He's very busy most of the time, but as long as you stay here, you'll be seeing him a lot."
Code: You can stay here as long as you want.
The man, Mr. Lehnsherr, didn't say anything, but Scott heard a sharp sound (breath, incorrectly drawn in. He was blind, not dumb). He simply said, "Nice to meet you--," and then Mr. Lehnsherr's hands were on his blindfold.
No.
Scott pushed him away, hearing the man fall back. He didn't care, because he screamed at them, "Don't touch that!"
"Scott--" That was the Professor, and he was reaching for him, but now Scott couldn't stop screaming, don't touch it, don't make me kill you, don't come near me again until his voice was hoarse and he shook with fear.
Then he heard Mr. Lehnsherr say quietly, "Don't let it control you."
Scott ran away. It didn't matter if he ran into a wall.
Two years later, Jean came to the Institute. Her parents dropped her off, and there were many teary hugs and smiles to this gangly girl with too much hair. Scott could tell she never really brushed it properly, but that didn't matter because everyone loved Jean. She could move things with her mind, she knew how to smile without scowling (something Scott has yet to learn), she could twist a lock of her hair cutely when she was stuck on something. Jean was perfect. The first telekinetic. The Professor and Mr Lehnsherr (as much as Mr. Lehnsherr pretended to care) liked her.
And Scott hated her. He hated that she always tried to talk to him, hated her when she tried to understand what it was like to see everything in reds, hated her when she tried to take his hand when the adults weren't looking. She was so bothersome, but the Professor gave him his long-suffering looks and Scott just bit his lip and let her get away with it.
So when he joined her outside one night, it surprised them both. Jean was lying on the grass (something the Professor always told her off for, and something Scott will enjoy tattling about), her long weird-red hair splayed over the grass. She was staring at the stars with such a wide look of stupidity that even Scott had to lie down next to her.
"What are you looking at?"
"Stars."
"Why?"
She looked at him, and for the first time, his breath catches.
"Can your power reach that?"
"Maybe." Scott doesn't know, never tested that out. He was too worried that he'll ruin everything for miles on end. Mr. Lehnsherr told him he was being stupid, but better stupid than being a murderer. Whenever he had these talks with him, the Professor gave him extra candy anyway.
"Can you try?"
Scott hesitated, before pushing up his glasses. The beam hit the clouds, making them crackle. Jean giggled. Scott, miffed, pushed them back down, "There. Well?"
"I think you reached the Heavens."
Baloney, Scott thought, but the clouds parted to reveal an illuminated sky, and Scott didn't say anything at all.
They went back inside, with the Professor and Mr. Lehnsherr looking stern and annoyed.
"Scott, what were you doing out there?" The Professor said calmly.
"Just talking."
"About what?"
"That's it's okay being a mutant."
Jean lit up, the Professor was taken aback, and Mr. Lehnsherr's lip curled.
Scott didn't care anymore though. He went back to sleep, wiping off Jean's cheek kiss and the Professor's warm thoughts at the back of his mind.
Scott liked the Danger Room.
Sometimes, when he needed to think and vent at the same time, he came here, programmed a scenario and threw himself into it. It wasn't the fact that more and more students were coming in (it was), the Professor was busy and Scott was the one taking them around school, reassuring them and helping out (it was), or the fact that Mr. Lehnsherr hadn't left in weeks (it was). Jean told him to relax and cool off whenever his teeth started grinding and so he did.
So, he was working through another scenario when his visor went flying and a piece of metal wrapped around his eyes instead. Panic, blind and furious bled into him, but he couldn't open his eyes. Scott simply clenched his fists and said, "Mr. Lenhsherr."
"Magneto."
Scott wasn't going to call him that. He knows the Professor hates that word, "Can I ask what you're doing to me Mr. Lehnsherr?"
"Training."
"I'm blind."
"I know. You'll fight against me."
This wasn't fair and Scott felt the bubble of panic rise up again, "Did you clear this with the Professor."
"No." and a large piece of metal sends him flying into the wall. At that moment, Scott snapped. He leaped, he dodged, kicked away any large scraps of metal that came his way. He tried to listen, but the blurring sound of metal made it difficult to concentrate. His knee had tiny slivers embedded in it and the wraparound piece of metal around his eyes got tighter and tighter.
But finally, he got a punch in, with years of hatred and anger behind it. Immediately after that, the metal dropped and his visor re-attached itself to his face. But Scott didn't care, wanted to tear the Danger Room apart, wanted to tear Magneto apart, but he settled for saying tightly, "Why?"
"I'm leaving."
"You always leave."
"Not like this."
Scott didn't know what else to say. And like that, Magneto left.
Scott knew his way around cards. The Professor never liked it, preferring chess over poker and black jack, but Scott loved using cards. It was one of the skills he appreciated and honed when he had time, cheating out of errands and duties. After that came the philosophical debates with the Professor, which were equally enjoyable.
He always got away with it too.
Scott had never played cards with Mr. Lehnsherr and it was out of whim that he brought his deck with him into the prison. Mr Lehnsherr, no Magneto just arched an eyebrow at him and gestured with a just-deal-the-cards.
Scott lost miserably. He didn't know why but he did and it smarted. Magneto just chuckled, and said, "We should do it again."
"Maybe," Scott said, because what else could he say? He had the chance to kill him and didn't. He should have, he wanted to, and everyone knew it. Still, they pretended otherwise. Scott knew why Jean does it (out of love), Storm (out of hard realities and better choices). But the Professor would never understand.
Which is why, Scott thought to himself, he's here playing cards with the man who tried to kill one of his students, the same student who wakes up screaming to Erik's memories.
The hate continues to burn blackly in his heart. Scott didn't care.
Scott wrapped his arms around Jean, in the night, thinking about his visor (made for his birthday, presented in an untidy package, bore no mark, but so finely made with metal that no one needed to know), about his time in college ("Prove them wrong, Scott, prove them all wrong"), thinking about the changes in his life and the things he saw (the father he chose and the father he wanted) and thinking about the things that never needed change (The Xavier Institute)
Jean kissed him and they look to the stars.