Everyone (well, most people) likes to ridicule Cyclops, including me. It's just so easy, not to mention fun. But I feel the need to express my flexibility and write a story where Scott's the good guy and I make fun of other people. (Except Gambit, because this is ME we're talking about.) I really wanted to see if I could write a likeable Scott, and it wasn't as hard as I though it would be. Try it, it's FUN! Write a story about your least favourite character, see if you like it. Hmm, maybe that should be a challenge...
By the way, this is pre-Onslaught and Wolverine is a functional human being. I don't think it actually fits anywhere, but let's pretend that it does.
Oh yeah, and none of these people belong to me except Edith, the delivery guy and the duck. Gambit's cousin-in-law, or what remains of him, belongs to the Thieves Guild and Jacob belongs to himself. He doesn't really exist anyway, so it doesn't matter.
Fruitloops, Nutcases And Prophets: Part One
by Diamonde
CYCLOPS: (noun)
1. _Gr. Mythol._ One of a race of one eyed giants.
2. Insane (esp. delusional or hallucinating) mutant.
Cyclops, aka. Scott Summers, was looking for his wife. He knew he'd left her around here somewhere. He eventually found her with the professor in his office. "Jean? Could y- oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise we had company." He looked at the other person with interest.
Jean gave Scott a worried look. "We don't."
Scott frowned. "Then who-" He looked back at the spot where he'd seen the other man and changed what he was about to say. "I'm sure I saw another person over there. Then he just disappeared."
"There was nobody there, Scott." Professor Xavier frowned in concern. "I'm sure we would have noticed, even if it was only an astral projection. What did this person look like?"
Scott thought hard. "He didn't look like an astral projection. I suppose he might have been an illusion. He had brown hair and a beard, wasn't very tall, and looked about forty or fifty. He was wearing a white shirt and dark trousers, but they were old. No, they were just old-fashioned. They were in good condition, and he looked... important. Self-confident, like he was used to eveyone running around for him." It was a good description. You didn't get to be the leader of the X-Men by not noticing small details.
"Strange." The professor sat back thoughfully. "What was he doing?"
"Just standing there. He was watching the two of you when I came in, then he looked at me. He was very surprised to see me come in, and when I mentioned him he jumped."
"So he didn't expect anyone to be able to see him." Professor Xavier sighed. "I don't know what to think. It was possibly an illusion, or a telepathic projection that didn't take you into account. I find it hard to believe that neither Jean or I wouldn't notice, though."
"Professor... Scott and I are so close mentally, I know he was sure he saw someone. But I didn't feel _anything_. It was just empty space."
"You're right. He does believe it." He looked at his protegé kindly. "Perhaps it's just stress, Scott. You have been working very hard recently."
Scott wasn't convinced, but it wasn't worth pursuing at this point. "Maybe it is."
Jean came over and hugged him. "You have to stop working yourself so hard, honey. Maybe you should take a few days off and relax."
"If I keep seeing strange old men where they shouldn't be, I promise I will."
"Good. Now what did you want?"
"We're all waiting for you in the Danger Room. We had an exercise scheduled for fifteen minutes ago, and I couldn't reach you through our link."
She looked up, wide-eyed. "That's now? I thought you said it was tomorrow. I'm sorry, the professor and I were working on something."
"I did say it was tomorrow. Yesterday. You know, we went to sleep and when we woke up it was light again? That means it's tomorrow."
"Ha ha. At least I'm not seeing people who aren't there."
* * *
"So y' finally found her." Gambit yawned and reluctantly pushed away from the wall. "About time, even Remy not take fashionably late dis far." That was true. There was a little post-it stuck in the control booth that said 'If I'm more than ten minutes late I ain't coming at all, so let me sleep. Gambit.' Scott liked to wait until the ninth minute then go wake him up again.
"Let's just get started, okay?" Scott tried to put the old man that he _knew_ had been there out of his mind, it was dangerous to be distracted in a classic Danger Room session (nostalgic, but more dangerous). A opening in the wall fired a series of disc shaped missiles at him, forcing him to dive and roll away. As soon as he was back on his knees he blasted the motion sensor and moved again. Turning around as he heard Gambit swear, Scott gasped and repeated the words in English before stopping the program.
The tentacles holding Gambit went limp and dropped heavily to the floor, taking him with them. "What de hell did you do dat for?!"
"Scott? What's wrong?" Jean hurried over. "Darling, stop hitting your head against the wall. Why did you stop the session?"
"I saw her! I know it sounds stupid, but I saw Shadowcat in here. But she wasn't really Shadowcat, she was Sprite. She was wearing the old costume and she was smaller..." He looked around at the incredulous faces. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"Honestly, Cyke? No." Wolverine looked at him dubiously. "Y'know, there's words for people who see things that ain't there."
"Scott, now I'm really worried. That's the second time in half an hour you claim to have seen people that weren't there."
"She was, you just weren't looking," Scott grumbled.
"Mon ami, if someone come in den de Danger Room shut off automatically, non? Dat got put in _because_ people like her walk in wit'out knockin'." Gambit knew how to deal with this problem, he'd seen it before. Being reasonable and non-acusatory was the best way to go.
"I know. But she _was_ there."
"Hon, if it was Kitty then it wasn't an astral projection. I know that nobody influenced your mind from outside, and if it was a hologram of some kind we all would have seen it."
"And it wasn't the real Kitty, because I spoke to her last night. Still in Scotland." Wolverine shook his head. "It's you."
"Is not," said Scott unreasonably.
Wolverine frowned. "Yes it is."
"Not."
"It is!"
"Is not!"
"Shut up. Wolverine, y' ain't gonna convince him. He's nuts or he really saw somet'ing, and whichever it is he believe he saw it."
"Is," mumbled Wolverine as he left.
"Not," Scott finished.
Jean and Gambit looked at each other. "We should take him to see the professor," Jena said. Remy nodded.
"I am still here, you know. There's nothing wrong with my ears, just _your_ eyes."
"Course dere's not'ing wrong wit' you. Humour us."
"Okay, but only this once. Well, this Irishman walks into a bar and-"
"That's not what he meant, Scott."
"I know, but _I_ could sure use a laugh."
* * *
Professor Xavier had been prepared for a hallucinating, irrational Scott by Jean's telepathic message, what he got was quite different. Gambit and Scott were trading jokes (many of them in highly questionable taste), and laughing happily.
"Okay, heh heh, dere's an American, an Irishman an' a blonde..."
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