Title: I Alone
Author: Askani'daughter / Eruntalince (newloverboys@yahoo.com)
Rating: R (for language and subject matter, NOT sex)
Pairing/main characters: Cyclops/Havok
Series/Sequel: complete
Summary: Havok enters an alternate reality where Cyclops and he don't know they're brothers and have become lovers. What will Havok do? Angst, Drama, M/M Slash, Profanity, AU, Incest (non-graphic), and Mental Disorders.
Disclaimer: The X-Men belong to Marvel, not me. Marvel would NEVER put this story out. Better chance of them producing Wolverine/Sabretooth slash.
Date: Nov 2001
Archive/distribution: If you really want it. But I don't see that happening. But ask anyways, okies? I *have* to know who's brave enough to post this up.
Warning: Warning!! No, wait, WARNING!!!! Okay, this is a X-Men slash songfic starring Cyclops and Havok. This should be your first clue, especially if you actually *read* the comic, you'd know that Cyclops and Havok are BROTHERS!! Which means that this story features incest! Not just male homosexuality in all it's glory, but INCEST! However, this is rated R, which means there will be NO *graphic* sex scenes. Which means you shouldn't be complaining. But wait, don't run away yet! This is NOT an incest smut piece. This a very realistic story, featuring the "what if's?" of an Alternate Universe. I am presenting this fic to deal with issues that are not entirely impossible, not to glorify incest, or bash it. Take the story for what it is. Obviously if male homosexuality and/or incest bothers you, you should already be gone. I'm not kidding. Flames will *not* be tolerated.
Notes: If Alex seems off to you guys, well, read X-Factor. He was off to begin with. Kid had some problems. Like Pax said, he's got the personality of the month syndrome. So I actually bred a plot bunny from that. BTW, this is the evil plot bunny I threatened Cyclops with. Told ya it was evil. He got out of the cage, and I couldn't stop him. But at least Cyclops is behaving himself now. He gave me back my bear, and agrees that yes, he and Warren would make such a lovely couple....
Nexus of Realities Challenge Fic: This fic is in response to Paxnirvana's "Nexus of Realities Challenge" alternate universe shared-world idea. The premise is that Alexander Summers, in Mutant X, does the whole Quantum Leap thing. Alex Summers, who has technically died, spirit travels from dimension to dimension, to reality to reality, and takes over the life of the "other" Alex Summers, however temporarily. It's a glimpse into another world, through the eyes of Marvel canon Havok. Dun blame Pax. It's my evil plot bunny, not hers.
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I Alone
By Askani'daughter
"I remember... dying. But mostly... I remember... living..."
I fade in.
My head is cloudy, and everything is hazy. It's like I'm half-in, half-out of consciousness, like being drugged, but I'm not. It's like taking an extremely long to wake up. It's like being in between dreams. Am I entering a new reality now?
I get a distant sense. Pleasure. Ecstasy. I don't know where it's coming from, and I don't know why, but who am I to argue with orgasmic bliss?
I get a slight taste. Of flesh, of salty sweat, and other naughty things. I'm having sex with someone, or rather, the other me was having sex with someone, and I just happened to interrupt. Everything is so vague, and even though my body is being played like a string, I can distantly assess what's going on.
I finally get a vague perception of sight. It's dark, but for a candle or two by the bedside, that barely illuminate anything. Worthless, other than to add to a romantic atmosphere. Everything is blurry, and on top of me, making love to me, is a barely perceptible human form.
I smell the undeniable scent of sex. A strong, heedy scent, but it doesn't smell quite right to me. There's something far more earthy, far more intense to this smell than I've ever smelled before during sex. I smell the sweat, and it just doesn't smell right...
I get a sensation of touching. Someone is touching me, gently, tenderly. Kissing me. I reach up, barely able to move in the fog my mind is trapped in, and touch my lover's body. It's not right... The flesh is harder than it should be, firmer, more confident. There's strength to this body that shouldn't be. What I'm touching is a man.... A man?!?!
And finally, I can hear. It comes in slowly, like a bad radio channel, distant and soft. Even though there are lips pressed against my ear. I recognize the voice. Oh god, I recognize the voice!
"God Alex, you're so beautiful... I love you so much," comes the husky whisper of my brother.
"Scott!!" I cry, recovering my voice, and I start struggling.
Scott tenses and pauses above me, and I push against his body, making him fall back on the bed, away from me. Oh god, thankfully away from me, oh god.
Sweet Jesus, please tell me I wasn't just having sex with my own brother!!!
"Alex?!?" Scott asks, his eyes widening in the dim light of the candles. Eyes? No shades? No optic beams?
"You fucking bastard!!" I cry, enraged. He must have been trying to rape me!! How could this happen?!?!
"What's wrong? What did I do wrong?" Scott asks me, sounding concerned. And he touches me, on my arm, sitting up and reaching over, looking confused. Oh god, he's touching me again! Oh my God!!
"Get the fuck away from me, you sick bastard!!" I scream and hold my hands to his chest, and try to direct my power through my hands. I don't care if I kill him, because he fucking deserves to die!!
Nothing happens.
Scott stares at me, and then looks down to my hands, pressed against his naked chest. My eyes widen when I realize that I am powerless. And so is he. We're not mutants.
"Alex, are you alright? Did you forget to take your medication again?" Scott asks me seriously, looking up to meet my eyes as he turns on the light. Blue. I'd forgotten that Scott and I shared the same eyes. Our mother's eyes.
"How could you, you asshole? I'm your brother. Do you hate me that much?" I ask him quietly, the violence in me draining as quickly as it came.
"Brother?" Scott asks in surprise and then slowly, he smiles, leaning over me again, his lips against my ear. "Is this one of your kinky little acts, 'Lex?"
"Acts?? Get... OFF ME!!" I scream and push him so hard, he falls off the bed with a loud thump. I want to curl up and cry. This is too horrible. What is going on??
Scott stands up, with both grace and dignity. I stare at him. I'm terrified, disgusted, horrified, confused, and disbelieving. Scott is my big brother. My perfect brother. My perfect brother who hates me.
Right?
"Jesus, Alex, are you ever going to grow up? This is about Jean, right? How many times do I have to tell you that Jean and I are just friends?? You are really insecure, you know that? You should know by now how much I love you, and only you," he says angrily, and stalks from the bedroom.
Leaving me more confused than ever.
I run to the bathroom off to the right, dive into the shower. I have to wash him off me! Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god! I was having sex with my own brother!!!
I grab the soap, scrubbing hard into my flesh, causing angry red patches of abused skin to appear all over my body. I pay special attention to certain areas. And when I'm sure I have every trace of Scott and of sex off me, I sink down in the shower, under the hot water, frightened and confused and angry.
Homosexuality doesn’t bother me. Never particularly interested me, but it never bothered me. I considered it a few times in my adolescence, but it's not something I've really bothered to form an opinion of one way or another. I'm not disgusted by the sexual acts. If I had just faded in during sex with any other guy, I wouldn't freak out. I'd deal. Shit, I wouldn't even deny I might like it. But having sex with your own brother is on entirely different level.
Oh god.
I hang my head under the shower stream. Is this my punishment? For what I did? For the people I killed, the people I hurt? So I wake up in a reality where I'm some sick incestuous faggot???
He wasn't raping me. I can't lie and pretend. There was no pain, no force. There was desire, and acceptance. The other Alex willingly got into a bed with his own brother.
Oh my fucking God.
I have to get away. I have to get out and away. I have to leave, before Scott tries to touch me again. I have to.
I get out of the shower, and head into the bedroom cautiously, making sure that Scott didn't come back. The smell of sex is still in the room, and I try not to think of it. I find a dresser full of clothes, and I wonder whether it's mine or his. I pull out a t-shirt, a familiar t-shirt. It's the Pink Floyd t-shirt I bought Scott for his birthday one year.
My hands start to shake, and I put the shirt back and try another drawer. The clothes are more my size and speed, but one of the shirts makes my hands shake even more. It's a Tears For Fears concert shirt Scott had bought me for my birthday. What the fuck is going on??
I grab a simple gray t-shirt, and a pair of dark blue cargo pants. I fumble around on the dresser, trying to find a wallet, money, anything. I grab a wallet, flipping it open and seeing my blonde mug. And I pause.
On top of the dresser are pictures. Pictures. Pictures of me and Scott. Pictures of me and Scott kissing. Pictures of me and Scott at Disney World. Pictures of me and Scott in front of a car. Pictures of me and Scott at the beach. Pictures of me and Scott holding hands, with a bunch of other people around us.
I pick up the photo, studying those that surround us. Next to me is Jean Grey, her arm resting comfortably on my shoulder. Standing beside her, his arm around Jean's waist, is the incredibly handsome Warren Worthington III. Next to Scott is a goofy looking Bobby Drake, who's holding an Ice of all things. Beside him is a buff, glasses-sporting Henry McCoy.
No wings on Warren. The bestial cast to Hank's features is gone. Scott's wearing normal sunglasses, and a grin. I'm just holding hands with my brother, like any normal gay couple.
I set the photo down, and start rummaging. This is wrong, all wrong. Too weird. But I have to know. It drives me. I find more pictures.
I still would have run away. I still would have left, if I hadn't found the childhood photos. Nothing before six for me, ten for Scott. I found one of Scott, sitting with a bunch of other kids, in an orphanage.
The first childhood picture is of me and Jean holding hands. I'm about seven, and she's about nine or ten. Behind us is Jean's parents. I swallow, wondering what the fuck this means. I turn the picture over, and read the writing on the back.
"Jean and her new little brother, Alex."
The picture flutters to the floor, and I stare at it, hands shaking, eyes wide. I flip open my wallet, and study my driver's license. It said Alexander Grey.
Alexander Grey? My name is Alexander Summers!!
I was Jean's brother? How could I be Jean's brother? And what was with all this gay shit?
My brother needs to answer a few questions.
I storm out of the bedroom, and down the hallway, blindly finding my way to a living room. Scott was sitting on a couch, sulking. He wore a pair of pajama bottoms, and smelled clean. Must be another bathroom somewhere.
I slap some pictures down on the coffee table before him. He looks up at me, his scowl deepening. "What now, Alex?" he growls.
"These. How can Jean be my sister?" I ask him bluntly. Something was very fishy here.
Scott blinked, looking irritated. He was always irritated with me about something. "Very simple, 'Lex. Jean's parents wanted a son, so they adopted you, because Jean's mom was in a car accident, and couldn't have any more children after Jean. Are you suffering from amnesia now?" he said sarcastically.
I blink. "Adopted me," I said evenly.
"The concept has to be familiar to you. You're an orphan, same as me, only you were lucky enough to get adopted. I was too old," Scott said bitterly.
"We were at the same orphanage?" I asked.
"I don't really remember my early childhood very well, neither of us do. But yes, Alex, we were at the same orphanage together. Why are you asking me questions you already know? What the fuck is wrong? Are you testing me, or something?" Scott sighed wearily.
"Testing you. Something like that. So you're not my brother?" I ask him.
Scott looked at me like I had grown a second head. "Brother? What's with this brother bullshit, Alex? We don't even look alike," he said, sounding exasperated.
I blinked. It was true. We don't look alike. I look like our mother, and he looks like our father. But maybe in this reality we're not related, maybe what was going on wasn't as bad as it seemed.
I sink to the chair and stare at him silently. He stares at me back. It's odd, to see his eyes like that. There's no judgment in them, no hate, no scorn. A little confusion, and some irritation and frustration, but other than that, Scott just looks at me differently, if I can be any judge of how he looked at me before. But there's definitely something different about the set of his jaw, the lines of his mouth when he looks at me.
"Alex, I swear I'm not interested in your sister. You know I love you. Why do you have to be so jealous just because Jean and I are good friends?" Scott sighs, reaching over and touching my hand.
"Don't touch me!" I cry. I can't let him touch me. I can't.
He sighs and turns his face, looking hurt. He leans back, staring darkly at the television. "I thought we had already worked it out. I guess I was wrong," he said, as darkly as his glare.
The looks on his face were so familiar. And then it dawned on me, as I sat and stared at my brother. He was looking at me the way he looked at Jean back in my own reality. And now he had the same look he had when he fought with Jean. Hurt. Angry.
"You... really... do love me?" I finally spoke after a long silence, wondering why that, of all questions popped out of my mouth.
Scott turned back to me, his blue eyes glittering. "Would I put up with your neurotic ass if I didn't?" he snorted.
I worked my jaw and stood up. I was beyond confused. The horror, shock, and fear I had felt earlier was already fading way into numbness. Was I so jaded that even the thought of homosexual incest with my own brother didn't phase me for long?
I felt tired. My God, I'm a moody little bastard.
Scott looked at me, his face touched by concern. Part of me was pleased. Scott never looked so concerned about me before. Was that it? The key to Scott's heart was to become his new fuck toy?
I wanted to laugh, and I started to. This was absurd.
"Alex. Please take your medicine. I told you that you shouldn't have gone off it," Scott said quietly, standing up and grabbing my arm.
I slapped him.
Scott took a step back. "It's in the medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink, Alex. Please. Take your medicine. Manic depression and borderline personality disorders don't just go away. And you need to go back to the doctor. You know what he said. Without professional help, you become a danger to yourself and everyone around you. Please, Alex. I don't want to have to visit you in the goddam loony bin again. Please don't be so fucking stubborn," Scott pleaded.
I blinked. Scott was begging me. He acted like he cared. Cared about how I felt. Cared about what I did. Cared about me. He never did before.
"Why couldn't you be like this before?" I asked him softly. I felt a loss, a pang for the loving brother I never got before.
Scott blinked. "I'm going to call Dr. Xavier tomorrow morning, Alex. You need to go back to him. Please. For me," he said gently, taking my hand into his, gently.
I let him, for about three seconds, before I yanked my hand away, and punched him in the face. "Fucking bastard. Don't you ever touch me again! I am not your bitch! I am not your fucking little faggot sex toy, either," I growled. I was angry again.
Scott held his jaw, looking hurt. "Alex, I love you. I don't care if we have sex or not. I just want to be around you. Don't you remember how long we went without ever touching each other? You're my best friend. But I don't want be with you when you act like this," he said, looking hurt again.
The anger left me, quickly as it came. "You love me?" I asked him, feeling desperate.
Scott grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me close to him. This time I let him. "Alex, don't you get it? Of course I love you. It's what I've been trying to tell you all night. I'll do anything to keep you around," he whispered into my hair. He was so intense, so passionate. I never knew my brother could act like this towards me.
"If I go to Xavier, if I do as you say, will you stay just like this? No sex? Just love?" I asked him, knowing I sounded like a child, and not caring.
A slight pause, a resigned sigh. "If that's what you want, Alex. I'll never touch you again, if that's what you want. Just get better. Just stay with me," he said softly.
I let him pull me into a hug, an embrace where he held my body close to his. I felt his hot breath on the top of my head, rustling my hair. I forgot about the sex scene I interrupted, and I just closed my eyes, soaking up the hug. His love. My brother finally loved me. He finally hugged me. He finally gave me the affection I always so desperately wanted from him.
"Why did you have to be such a cold bastard before? Why couldn't you love me before? What was wrong with me, that you hated me before? Why did you always have to be better? Why couldn't you just let me shine, just once? Why couldn't you let me be you, just for a little while? Why, Scott?" I demanded my face pressed against his chest, smelling his aftershave. Old Spice.
"You're not making any sense, Alex. I've always loved you. Ever since we met in Dr. Xavier's office," Scott whispered.
I closed my eyes, and I just stood there for a long time, in my brothers arms, soaking up the brotherly love I never got before. Things were so different here. I was Jean's brother, not Scott's. Xavier was a psychologist, I'm guessing. I was gay. I was gay with Scott. I was a fucking nutcase.
No wait, that didn't change. I've always been a nutcase.
At least I'm honest about it.
Time passed and Scott led me back to the bedroom. He didn't do or say anything funny, he just pulled me in with him. We lay together, as brothers should, holding each other. I felt a little better, a little more stable. My big brother was taking care of me.
I suddenly remembered a half-formed memory, of being very little, and carrying a teddy bear, running in fear from my room. Into Scott's I went, crying about monsters in my closet and underneath my bed. I remember my big brother reaching out to me, pulling me into bed with him, comforting me. Protecting me from the monsters.
After the plane crash, after we were separated, after we met again, and realized who we were, there was nothing between us. It was like Scott's love for me had died with our mother. I could almost feel his judging stare under his visors. Scott hated me. I wasn't good enough to be his brother. He didn't love me anymore. He had everything, and he wouldn't even share with me, his own baby brother. I was barely allowed to be his friend. All his love was for Jean, and none for me.
And when the monsters came to get me, Scott just stood off to the side, and let them come. When I turned into a monster, he just let me. Because he didn't care.
But here, Scott loved me. Scott took care of me. Scott didn't let the monsters get me. I think I cried myself to sleep in his arms.
His love came too late.
***
I woke up slowly, feeling balanced.
I like it when I'm balanced. It happens so rarely. Shame it won't last long.
I was alone in the bed, with only the scent of Scott's aftershave to remind me this all wasn't a dream. I shook the sleep from my head, and stood up, staring at myself in the mirror.
I looked a little different. My hair was cut at an angle, and shaved at the back, long in the front. It was also frosted. I wrinkled my nose at my reflection, noting that at least I wasn't pierced in the face. I walked out of the bedroom, wondering where my brother was.
Now all I have to do is forget about the sex, and everything will be fine.
I neared the end of the hallway, hearing voices in the kitchen, which was off to the right. I stayed hidden, listening in.
"...he doesn't want me to touch him anymore. He begged me to never have sex with him again. After the way he reacted, I felt like a rapist anyways. He's worse than ever, Jeanie. But at least he promised to go back to Dr. X. I already made the appointment."
"Oh, Scotty, you know he loves you. He's just... Well, he's so insecure. I think his parents' death made him feel unsafe. He's been like that ever since Mom adopted him. We tried to make him feel loved, but I think because we weren't his real family, we just couldn't get through to him. It was like he was torn away from someone he loved, and couldn't get back to them. And then high school only made it worse. He really got messed up."
"I know. Shit, Jeanie, you remember me before Dr. X. I was the most repressed, closeted son of a bitch you'd ever meet. Not repressed because I'm gay, but just repressed, ya know? I didn't want to show any feelings, because I was too afraid of getting hurt. Once I let go of that, everything else came out. I just wish Alex could get better. I thought he was, but he slipped back worse than ever last night."
"Just give him some space, Scott. You can be kinda obsessive, you know. Just let him breathe."
I took that opportunity to walk in, staring at Jean. She looked up at me, a grin on her face. Her hair was cut at her shoulders, and she was wearing blue sundress, more revealing than her normal style.
"Hey, bro! Feelin' better this morning?" she asked me brightly. I realized she had an eyebrow ring. Was everything insane in this reality?
"Whatever," I said darkly, feeling peevish all of a sudden.
"Hey, Scott's Squall, you're Seifer. You can't steal Scott's lines now," Jean grinned.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"You know. Final Fantasy VIII. Your favorite videogame. It's a joke," Jean said patiently, blinking a little.
"Videogame? Do you think I'm a child or something?" I asked in annoyance. My irritability levels were out of control.
"Never mind. Here, I made you breakfast," Scott sighed, and put a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me.
Now I was really pissed off. How dare they talk about me behind my back? I'm not a stupid problem child. Why does everyone treat me like a little boy? I shoved away the plate, just to be contrary. Fuckers, they're all back-stabbing fuckers.
Scott looked away, his jaw working. He and Jean exchanged glances. She turned to me, as he walked out.
"Alex. Why do you have to be such an asshole? My God, that man loves you with all his heart, and you're sitting here, treating him like shit," Jean scolded me. Jean never scolded me before. She mostly just watched me a little sadly.
"I'm not some gay little bitch. Fuck off, both of you," I spat. I wanted to go home, where I understood everything and everybody.
"News flash. You are a gay bitch. You are a real bitch. You PMS worse than I do. Stop acting like a jackass, and eat the fucking food he made you. Christ, Alex, he'd carve off his right testicle for you if you asked. Don't treat him like that," Jean said harshly, shoving the plate of food back in my direction.
"You want him. Don't you?" I said, realizing that she looked jealous of me. My eyes widened. The irony of my new situation was fucking hilarious, once you got past the incest thing.
Jean's eyes widened, then narrowed. She worked her jaw for a minute. It was obvious that she wanted Scott, loved him, and I began to understand why she might cause a rift between the other Alex and Scott's relationship.
"Alex, we've been through this. He chose you. Besides, I'm dating Warren now. But please don't abuse the love he gives you," she finally said, looking a little hurt.
I blinked, and the situation became even funnier to me. My other self was fucking his own brother and neither knew they were related. The other Jean, the other me's big sister, had tried to get Scott, but Scott chose me over her. This was just too funny.
I wanted to laugh, so did. Long and hard. Jean left the kitchen, disgusted with me. I'm such a little prick. I know it, but I can't change it.
I sat there for a while, just laughing. Eventually I stopped laughing, and started to cry.
Why? Why did I have to be his gay fucking lover to get love out of my brother? Why did I have to walk into a sick fucking incestuous relationship? Why did I have to deal with this? What's the point?
Eventually, Scott came in and told me to get ready for the doctor. I told him to fuck off. He said he'd fucking bathe me himself, so I left for a shower. I showered and shaved like a good little boy, and came out of the bathroom, only to discover Scott was waiting for me.
We stared at each other evenly for a while. As always, he won, and I went with him to the doctor.
***
Professor Charles Xavier as a psychiatrist was not exactly a stretch of the imagination. I sat on the chair in his office, staring at him across his mahogany desk darkly. His hands were steepled, and he regarded me coolly, his bald head gleaming in the office light.
"So, Alex, Scott tells me you've slipped back into your old habits?" the other version of the all-powerful, all-wise, all-asshole mutant telepath asked me.
I remained silent.
"And that you've taken yourself off of medication?"
I began to study my fingernails.
"Do you realize how broken-hearted he is?"
I paused and made contact with Charles Xavier's cool blue eyes.
"Do you know that when you act like this, that you hurt your lover so badly he's asking me to up his medication?" Xavier said patiently.
I worked my jaw. Lover. I could never reconcile myself to Scott being my lover. This was sick, this was horrifying, this was-
"Does his love frighten you, Alexander Grey?"
I swallowed. Fuck, even without telepathy, Xavier's still good about reading minds.
"I want you to see me every day, Alex. We need to make you well. I don't want to have to put you back in the hospital either. I'm writing you a prescription, and if Scott tells me you don't take it, or if you don't show up to our sessions, I will Baker-act you. Again."
"Does he really love me?"
Why? Why do I ask that question? Is that what makes me stay, even knowing what Scott and the other me were doing? His love? Why do I want it so bad?
"I never seen anyone love someone as much as Scott loves you, Alex. He'd move heaven and earth for you if he could. It saddens me to see you abuse a relationship with a man who loves you that much."
My brother loves me. He finally loves me.
"It's wrong," I finally say.
Xavier misunderstood me. Of course he would. He's not a telepath here, and he has no clue that Scott is my brother.
"Being gay isn't wrong, Alex. In my eyes, a strong, healthy relationship, with good communication, emotional support, and real love is always right, no matter who it's with."
I wanted to ask him if he'd say the same thing if he knew that I was Scott's baby brother.
I kept my mouth shut, and zoned out during Xavier's lecture about healthy gay relationships. The old man always bored me. He's so fucking self-righteous it makes me want to vomit.
When my hour was up, Xavier called in Scott for a short private chat, and Scott came out with my prescription and boxes of free medicine. Scott looked sad and hurt, not saying much to me as he drove me home.
Why was I still here? Why didn't I just leave? This was wrong, all fucking wrong. But Scott's emotions made me stay. If he acted like he didn't love me so goddam much, I'd be fucking gone.
He made dinner quietly, letting me sulk in front of the television set. He called me in when it was done, and I found steak and potatoes waiting for me, as well as my pills, right next to my plate. Gee, was that a hint?
I took the pills obediently. I remembered all the times Xavier, Lorna, Forge, or some other asshole would try to make me take them. I never would. But somehow, Scott's silent plea made me want to take them. Who knows? Maybe they would help.
The food was good. I had forgotten what a great cook Scott was. I was angry suddenly, and I pushed my plate away. Scott looked up from his dinner, watching me with pain on his face.
Why did he have to always be perfect? Why did he always have to win? Why did he always have to better than me? Why why why why why why????
"Alex, please eat," he begged.
"Why do you have to be so fucking perfect, Scott? Even when you don't act normal, you're still perfect. Why can't I ever measure up to you?" I cried, feeling the tears pour down my face, and hating myself for them. I hate it when my moods go out of control, and it happens so often. I hate myself sometimes.
"Do you know... that when I met you, that you intimidated me?" Scott said gently, his hand reaching across the dinner table and touching my hand.
I looked up at him, wiping the tears off my face.
Scott was staring at his half-eaten steak. "You were so fun-loving, so outgoing. One moment you were happy, the next angry. You fascinated me. And you were so beautiful. Do you know that you remind me of my mother? Right down to her swinging moods. I don't remember her very well, but you still remind me of her. I fell in love with you almost at first sight. I always felt there was something between us, like a connection," Scott said, pouring his heart out to me.
I stared at him. A connection? I fascinate him?
"I was afraid of you, because I thought you'd just think I was a stick in the mud, some repressed asshole. I thought you'd think I was boring, that you wouldn't even give me the time of day. Which is why I dated Jean first. But when you warmed up to me, it was all over. I was yours. Your smile breaks my heart. Sometimes, I wish I could be you," he wrapped up.
I was silent for a long time. "Would you love me no matter what?" I asked him.
"No matter what, Alex," he promised.
"I love you, too, Scott," I said honestly.
I do. I love my brother. I hate him, I'm jealous of him, but god, do I love him. He was my first love, a child's first love, back when we were small, and he took care of me. He always took care of me. He taught me to walk, to play games, to live. And losing him broke my heart more than my parents' loss.
Broke my heart. Maybe even broke my mind.
He smiled at me, and I realized how rare Scott smiled, especially at me. It was a beautiful smile, made even more beautiful by its rarity.
Dinner passed, quietly, but not uncomfortably. We sat and watched TV together, and I was struck by how much I had missed a normal life. No mutants. No X-Men. No super-villains. Just me. Just him. Just us. I didn't object when he put his arm around me. I even snuggled back, feeling like I did when I was four, and he was eight, and we would sit, huddled up together, watching cartoons avidly. I missed that so much it makes my heart ache.
But it's not gone. I have it here, if only for a passing moment. My brother's love. Maybe it was the meds kicking in, I don't know. But I felt happier than I ever had before.
When we got up for bed, he walked me to the bedroom we shared, and he left me, quietly heading to the spare bedroom, without complaint. I touched his arm, making him pause. He looked at me in question.
"Does it... does it hurt you that I won't let you sleep with me?" I asked. Why was I asking that. But the thought of hurting him made me want to hurt.
Scott turned his face away. "It's alright, Alex. Dr. X told me how you feel. If it bothers you, please don't-"
"Answer the question, Scott," I said sharply.
He looked at me. His hand came up and stroked my cheek. "Of course it bothers me. Alex, I love you. I want to be able to show you that I love you. But don't worry about it. It's not that important," he smiled sadly.
"Show me then. Show me that you love me," I said dreamily. Why? I'm acting crazy. But aren't I crazy?
He blinked and then smiled, leaning over and taking me into his arms gently. It wasn't a sin for him. He didn't know. I was just another man to him. It wasn't a sin for the other Alex either. They didn't know. They were innocent.
It was a sin for me. A dark, pleasurable sin. A sin I'd never committed before, never even thought of before. A sin I committed in the dark with him. But I had committed so many other sins, what was one more on my list? One more wouldn't make a difference on my record.
Am I gay? Would I sleep with another man? Never. I'm not gay. But for Scott, with Scott, all the rules change. I find myself doing things I wouldn't normally. For his love. For his affection. I was so desperate for his love I'll admit I'd accept any version of it, no matter how warped it might seem.
After it was all over, Scott lay asleep next to me, a sweet smile on his handsome face. I felt guilty. I felt guilty about not feeling dirty. I had just had sex with my brother, and I enjoyed it, wanted it. I felt guilty because I didn't feel guilty. Scott loved me, so I let him love me. I wanted him to love me. I'd do anything for him to love me. I didn't care that he was a man, that he was my brother, any more. He was Scott, my big brother, my protector, my lover. And I desperately wanted his affection and his love.
I was more seriously fucked in the head than I thought.
Sleep refused to allow me to join Scott, so I got up, my arms wrapped around myself. I stood before the dresser, looking at all the happy pictures with me and Scott in them. Correction, with the other me and Scott in them.
And suddenly, the enormity of what I have done crushed my soul. The other Alex was happy. Extraordinarily happy. He didn't know his lover was his big brother. He was a man with problems, but a man who was recovering from his problems. He was a man who deeply loved Scott Summers.
And here was I. I had hurt Scott, caused the other Alex to go backwards in his progress. I had hurt Jean, Alex's sister for all intents and purposes. I had knowingly committed a sin. Oh God, I had just slept with my brother. And this time, I did it because I wanted to. I let my darkest, deepest, most hidden desire, a hidden desire that children have in their innocence together, and I let it out. As a little boy, being in love with your brother was really a sin. As a man, it was wrong, right? It didn't matter how emotionally vulnerable I was.
And everything else crushed me. Everything. Everything I'd ever done wrong. The people I killed. The people I hurt. Alexander Summers is a bad little boy. He deserves to die. He did die.
Now he needs to die again.
I walked into the bathroom, feeling far more clear and lucid than ever before in my life. The hot water I filled the bathtub with felt good on my naked skin when I crawled in. The razor that bit into my wrists was actually satisfying. I deserved it.
Now I wouldn't hurt anyone anymore...
***
I woke up, surprised to be alive.
I sat up, and realized that I was tied to a hospital bed. I struggled a little, but they had me down good. My eyes caught on my bandaged wrists. Right over my railing, I caught a glimpse of Scott, looking pained and drawn, sitting in the chair beside my bed.
He was crying.
"Scott...?" I asked weakly.
"You knew."
His words rang out harshly on my ears and I winced. Why couldn't I just have died?
"You knew we were brothers. Why didn't you tell me?" Scott asked me, his words like whips on my heart. In his eyes was so much pain.
I was silent, and just stared up at him, wishing I could make everything better. My God, I had really ruined everything. For not only myself, but for him and the other Alex as well. Their innocence was no more.
"You lost so much blood, that you needed a transfusion. I offered my own blood, and they took it. And the doctor... The doctor told me I was your brother. Full brother. I saw the DNA scan," Scott said bitterly, standing up and looking down at me. He looked a little angry.
I looked away form the raw pain in his eyes. Bad little Alex made everything worse. Why couldn't I just have died?
"Why, Alex? Why didn't you tell me?" Scott demanded, sounding near hysterical.
I turned back to him, and I know I was crying too. "Because I loved you, and I didn't want you to leave," I choked out.
He stared down at me, and I stared up at him for an eternity.
"I don't care," he finally said.
I blinked. I said nothing. Scott, the perfect boy scout... And he didn't care?
"I don't care if your my brother. I love you, and I'm not going to lose you, Alex. I won't let you leave. I need you," Scott said, his hand closing around my bound one.
"Scott..." I breathed, actually happy. He leaned down, and our lips met in a kiss.
I came as I left. In pleasure. But it was the pleasure of the soul, not of body. And I was happy, even if it was ever so briefly. I had what I so desperately craved for so very long.
I had my brother's love, and no matter how sinful, or how depraved that makes me, it made me happy. Not because I had sex with another man, or my own brother. But because he was my protector, and he loved me.
Because love knows no gender, no body, no sin. Love knows only love. Scott alone had the power to make me feel safe. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.
I love you, Scott. And I'm glad I got a chance to know that you love me back.
I fade out.
"I remember... dying. But mostly... I remember... living..."
END
It's easier not to be wise
And measure these things by your brains
I sank into Eden with you
Alone in the church by and by
I'll read to you here, save your eyes
You'll need them, your boat is at sea
Your anchor is up, you've been swept away
And the greatest of teachers won't hesitate
To leave you there, by yourself
Chained to fateI alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this!It's easier not to be great
And measure these things by your eyes
We long to be here by his resolve
Alone in the church by and by
To cradle the baby in space
And leave you there, by yourself
Chained to fateOh, now, we took it back too far
Only love can save us now
All these riddles that you burn
All come runnin' back to you
All these rhythms that you hide
Only love can save us nowAll the riddles that you burn
Yeah, yeah, yeah- Lyrics to I Alone, by Live.