Rose Colored Glasses

by Amy

It was nearing midnight in West Chester, New York. Scott Summers would have needed a jacket if he hadn't been over heated from a lively session in the Danger Room. Hank and Logan had really kept him on his toes, and the night air felt good against his damp skin and hair. Dry autumn leaves crunched and crackled under his feet as he walked over the lawn to the guesthouse that was home to him and Jean. He was thinking as he walked that he needed a new uniform design; the one he was wearing now covered too much of his head and got extremely hot underneath. He was eager to get home and shower and climb between warm flannel sheets with his wife. He could sense, through the unique psionic rapport he shared with Jean, that she was already asleep.

Looking up at the night sky, Scott was sure that it was probably full of stars, but couldn't tell through the ruby quartz lenses that covered his eyes twenty four hours a day. Only the brightest of the stars were visible to him when his visor was in place. He hadn't really appreciated such sights as a child, before his mutant gift manifested itself and powerful optic blasts obliterated anything he looked at. Now, he wanted more than anything to see what most other people took for granted every night of their lives.

Half way between the mansion and his home by the lake, he stopped and furtively looked around to be sure no one was watching him. He had checked out this particular area earlier. No one was patrolling the grounds at this time of night, nor could anyone see him from any of the windows of the mansion. There were no video cameras trained on this particular spot (he should know), and the boathouse was not yet in view. He felt almost guilty, hiding from everyone this way, but temptation overwhelmed him. He removed the ruby quartz visor.

Keeping his eyes closed as the perspiration cooled and dried on his cheekbones, he used his fingertips to massage his eyelids before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief when the beams of concentrated force did not emanate from his eyes as usual, and the stars were no longer hidden from him in plain sight. The blackness that stretched overhead was no longer absolute and infinite, but speckled with pinpoints of light in the elaborate patterns that made up constellations. He had been able to vaguely make out Orion's Belt and the Big Dipper on exceptionally clear nights before, when they were at their brightest, but it was nothing like this. One of Beast's many quotes suddenly came to mind. It was by Freeman Dyson: "The universe is infinite in every direction." Seeing the sky as it was tonight, Scott believed it.

"No wonder Remy spends so much time on the roof," Scott said out loud to himself.

He had been practicing holding his power in check without his visor for months, now. Ever since the accident that had given him the ability back. He had lost the ability to control his optic blasts before he even knew he had mutant powers. He had hit his head and injured part of his cerebral cortex that allowed him to live without the ruby quartz once his power became evident. The red tinged glasses had forever changed the way he viewed the world, both literally and figuratively. Now? Now he was seeing the world again for the first time. All thanks to an accident not unlike the one that had damaged his brain in the first place. He had fallen from a steep ledge while in the lair of Ozymandias, while coming to the aid of his friend and teammate, Logan. He had narrowly avoided death, and though he hadn't realized it at the time, been given a new life.

He remembered the day he had first discovered he could hold the blasts in check by sheer force of will. He had been switching from the goggles that he wore while sleeping, to the glasses with ruby quarts lenses he wore during the day. In a moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness, he had knocked both his glasses and goggles to the floor. Without thinking, he looked to see where they had landed, and realized that there was nothing to keep him from burning a hole right through the floor. At first, he had feared that he had lost his powers somehow, and had felt his heart racing at the mere implication. Then he had forced himself into composure and assessed the situation as he had been trained to do in any circumstances. He had concentrated on focusing an optic beam at the bar of soap beside the sink, and prayed that he would not end up putting a cavity to the outside of his house. He could actually feel the power surging behind his eyes, waiting for his command. At his mental demand, he had burnt a small hole through the bar of soap, then shut the power off at will, without even scorching the counter beneath! He had laughed out loud, then remembered that Jean was asleep in the next room.

Jean. He had crept into the bedroom, and with light from the open bathroom door spilling over her, had really seen her for the first time. She had been awash in glorious illumination. Her hair was fiery, her skin peaches and cream. His heart had ached at the sight of her. He had watched her sleep for almost half an hour in the light that everyone else seemed to take for granted. It was then that Scott had realized the full implications to this new facet in his life.

Ordinary people would no longer look like they had spent too long in the sun. Hank would actually be blue instead of violet, Warren would no longer be lavender! He was eager to see everyone and everything through new eyes; nonetheless, he had told no one. He wasn't ready to share his secret just yet. Not even with Jean. He had slipped back into the bathroom when she began to stir, and put on his special glasses. He knew that Jean suspected something was different, and that he was hiding something, but she didn't press the issue. She had asked him if anything was wrong, and had taken him at his word when he insisted that everything was fine.

God, he loved her!

His first reaction, when he found he could control his optic blasts, had been to tell Jean immediately. He didn't know what had given him pause, but he had known that it was something that he wanted to keep it to himself for a while. He wanted to practice. Make sure that he would not lose control again and be forced to revert back to the use of a visor. Every time he removed the visor, he half expected the power to explode from his eyes uncontrollably as before. He was... insecure. Not an emotion he was used to dealing with. He was afraid that his team would loose confidence in him if he had to learn to use his powers all over again. He wanted to make sure that his control was absolute and permanent before revealing it to anyone, but he was almost ready.

He had been secretly practicing releasing the power from his eyes at will, controlling the strength, width and intensity of his blasts with ultimate precision. He had found that he had not only gained control over the release of his blasts, but also had the potential to completely master them. He had spent many hours with the Danger Room on privacy mode, honing his skill. He had discovered that if he concentrated hard enough, he could bore a hole no bigger than the eye of a needle through a piece of steel six inches thick. He could also slice a log ten feet long and three feet in circumference lengthwise without even scathing the wood. He was confident that within a few more days he would not only be able to control his powers as well as he had with the ruby quartz, but better. Then he would tell his wife about the secret he had been keeping. Then he would tell his team.

Sighing, he realized that he was beginning to feel cold. The perspiration from his work had long since evaporated, and it was time to go home. He took one last look at the night sky, and replaced his visor. The stars disappeared from his view once more, and Scott continued on his way home, whistling.

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