Fruitloops, Nutcases And Prophets: Part Three

by Diamonde

Scott wandered around the boathouse he'd been banished to. He was bored, and he knew that everyone else was still discussing him. Both were aggravating feelings, making him less than impressed with his new gift of seeing non-existent objects. However, since he was crazy nobody would make fun of him for talking to himself.

"I finally get a break when I'm actually feeling pretty good, and why? Because I've gone nuts, apparently. I know those things were there, it's not my fault nobody else can see them. We're supposed to be mutant superheroes, you'd think they'd be a little more accepting. Hah! Racial diversity's fine, but once you start seeing things a little differently from everyone else… and I'm still bored!" He sat down with a sigh. "I'm always doing X-Men stuff during the day, so now I have no idea how to amuse myself otherwise. How sad."

"You grow accustomed to it. Play cards. I have a Japanese puzzle that I do sometimes."

Scott looked around at the unfamiliar voice. The older man he'd seen before was standing in his living room, looking quite real and rather conversational. "It's you again. Who are you anyway?"

"My name is Jacob. I feel that you and I have similar difficulties, although you are obviously unused to it."

"You mean seeing things that aren't there? No, I'm not used to it. I only started doing it today."

"I have been… 'seeing things that aren't there' for several months now." Jacob looked at him kindly. "Your family does not understand that you are still fully rational, do they?"

"No. Can't say I really blame them, it is pretty strange. By the way, I'm Scott."

"Well, Scott, I am considered somewhat of a family embarrassment. I don't mind - I see many more interesting things than they do. However, this is the first time I have ever seen one that could also see _me_, let alone speak with me." He gave a perplexed smile. "Even if you do speak a little strangely. Not as strangely as you dress, though."

"Me? I'm perfectly normal. Okay, the clothes would look a bit weird…" He looked down at his blue and gold uniform with its little underwear-as-outerwear and communicator extras. "But there's a perfectly good explanation."

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm a superhero. It's what we all wear. Don't ask me why, I think it's probably something to do with ease of movement and being able to hide it under your normal clothes. Besides, you look just as strange as me."

Jacob looked offended. "I do not. I am dressed as any gentleman should be."

"Yeah, if it's 1910."

"I was not under the impression that fashion had changed much in the last two years."

Scott frowned. "The last _two_ years? Try the last eighty-five."

Jacob sighed. "Oh dear. Perhaps I misjudged you. I was so excited that someone could see me that I overlooked the possibility that you might really be insane. Or perhaps a vision has simply confused you. Dear boy, it is 1912. You must try to keep track of where you really are, it makes things much easier."

"I do know where I really am. I'm in my house and 1996, thank you very much."

"I am… well, I am on the edge of the lake, but I am _seeing_ your house. And it is 1912."

"Maybe you're in 1912 and I'm in 1996. We could just be seeing into different time periods," Scott said soothingly.

"A ridiculous explanation, but far preferable to the one I am currently offered, which is that I am… as nutty as a fruitcake." He smiled happily, obviously delighted with his new phrase. "I learnt that from your wife just now."

Scott decided to ignore that last part for the moment. "It could happen. I have a time-traveler living in the mansion, and my son is older than I am."

"Then he isn't really your son. If I were you I would ask my wife a few questions."

"Oh no, he is mine. Not entirely hers, but that's a bit hard to explain. He was born several years ago, then he had to be raised in the future. He came back a little while ago, and he's older than me." Scott looked at Jacob's confused face, much like everyone else he tried to explain it to. "It's complicated, and nobody except him really understands it. Try not to think about it too much, it gives you a headache."

Jacob looked thoughtful. "Different times. That would explain a lot."

"It would." This was so reasonable, but Scott still wasn't quite convinced. He'd pretend though, since Jacob was obviously confused and in need of an explanation. This one was as good as any. "Everything I've seen could have been in the past."

"Now I begin to understand what I have been seeing." Jacob smiled, then looked curious. "In… when you are, people can really travel through time?"

"Well, not usually. Most of the time-travelers around actually come from the future."

"I… _think_ I understand."

"Think you could explain it to me?" Scott laughed. "Let's not talk about it anymore. And I know what I can do." He walked across the room and wrenched open the cupboard that always stuck. "There's a jigsaw puzzle in here somewhere that I never got around to doing. Would you like to help? I don't know if you can really pick up the pieces, but tell me where you think they go and I'll do it."

Jacob, it turned out, had quite a good eye. Scott had finished the edge and was working on the lowest boat when his companion disappeared. Around ten minutes after that Jean, Bobby and Warren came in, with wall to wall tolerant smiles. The diagnosis was in, and it looked bad. _Well, the good news is that your legs haven't fallen off…_

"How are you feeling, Scott?" Jean asked.

"Bobby, tell my wife that I'm not speaking to her right now." He was feeling confused and rather insulted, which meant he didn't care if he was acting juvenile.

With a grin, Bobby obediently turned and repeated the message. "Scott says…"

"I heard."

With an exaggerated sigh he turned back. "Hey Scottie, how are you feeling?" he said in a sing-song voice.

"Fine. Did you all come just to ask me that?"

"No, I want to see if your head spins around," Bobby said with a laugh. Jean gave him an evil glare.

"It doesn't. My neck hurts though, so ask Jean if she can come over here and rub my shoulders."

"I thought you weren't speaking to her."

"I'm not, and therefore she should start trying to suck up."

"Bobby, ask Scott why he isn't talking to me."

"Scott, why aren't you talking to Jean?"

Scott sighed. "Gee Bobby, the little purple man told me to and I really thought it sounded like a good idea. She _knows_ why I'm not speaking to her, or at least she should."

Bobby looked at Jean's face. "Uh, no, I don't think she does. But she looks a bit annoyed."

"She said that I was, and I quote, 'as nutty as a fruitcake'." He gave Jean one final glare and turned his back.

"OOOH, now I _see_." He grinned. "Jean, he says that it's because you-"

"I HEARD."

"So are you gonna go rub his shoulders? I think you should."

"I'll do a lot more than that if he's not careful."

"Jean!" Bobby clapped a hand over Angel's eyes. "Not while Warren's in the room, he's too young!" He looked thoughtful. "Although, that would certainly encourage _me_ to talk to you again."

Warren reached up and removed the hand. "Yes, but not all of us have that particular sexual habit, Bobby."

"Cute."

"I know I am, but it's nice of you to mention it."

"Scott? I didn't say-"

"Yes you did. I know that you did, don't try to deny it."

"Okay, she said it, but she didn't really _mean_ it." Bobby agreed with her sentiments a little, but Scott was really much more fun this way.

"I don't care. I'm not insane."

"How did you know that she said it anyway?"

Scott considered lying, but decided that Jean would probably notice. "Jacob told me."

"Who's Jacob?"

"A friend."

"What sort of friend, Scott?" Jean turned him around telekinetically.

Scott looked innocently at the ceiling, but knew he wasn't fooling anyone. "The guy I saw in the professor's office this morning. He's very nice, but a total fruitloop. He's convinced it's 1912."

"Let me get this straight. Scott has an _imaginary friend_?"

It didn't get much better after that. They told him that he was not only suspended from active duty but from leaving the grounds, and he wasn't allowed to do anything that might be dangerous while on them. Everyone was still hoping that it would all go away, but that didn't mean they weren't taking precautions. A specialist would be in to see him on Monday.

"Well, I have to pee. Who wants to come and make sure I don't accidentally drown myself in the toilet bowl?"

Jean sighed again. She was doing a lot of that, her husband was going out of his way to be difficult. He obviously wasn't happy. "Scott, you can still go to the bathroom by yourself."

"Oh _thank_ you. I can still perform bodily functions all by myself, goody goody. Oh gee, maybe if I promise to be real good they'll even let me eat with a fork."

"We don't want to restrict your freedom, but we also don't want anything to happen to you. And you can still eat with a fork."

"Really?" He looked suspicious.

She squirmed. "It has to be plastic, but it's still a fork."

It really was amazing, Bobby decided. Scott could glare through a visor and still make you sweat.

"Plastic cutlery? We'd better be having another strike on doing the dishes!"

"Um, no… when you thought you saw a dinosaur you nearly put Bishop's eye out with your knife…"

"He's a soldier from the future, he should know when to duck by now."

"You're seeing ducks again?"

[next part]

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