Title: When Worlds Collide
Author: Chris (teufelce@aol.co)
Website: none
Rating: PG-13, language, slash-implications
Pairing / Main characters: Cyclops/Angel
Series/Sequel: unfinished, parts 1-2
Summary: A mix of comicverse and AU. When a teammate's life is turned upside down, Scott finds himself on an unexpected solo mission.
Disclaimer: The characters and universe of X-Men are the property of 20th Century Fox and the Marvel Entertainment Group. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement is intended.
Archive/Distribution: If you want it - please just let me know where.
Date: Jan 2002
Thanks to: Jo - pour tout. Merci, avec tout mon couer. And to pax, for getting me interested in this pairing in the first place - now when can we expect more??? ;)
Notes: /..../ - indicates thoughts
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When Worlds Collide 1
By Chris
Scott Summers, field leader of the X-Men, brilliant tactician and firm believer in the dream of one Charles Xavier, was hiding behind the locked door of his office - a pile of student papers sitting on his desk that he had spent the past two hours staring at but not seeing. They'd argued again that morning, he and Jean, and rather than lose his precious control and raise his voice, he'd left the room in cold silence.
When they'd first become engaged, the topic of children had never come up. They'd known each other ever since arriving at the school at roughly the same time - Jean from a psychiatric institution wherre she'd been convinced the voices she was hearing in her head meant she was going insane, and Scott from a long series of increasingly abusive foster homes, after his mutation manifested and he blew a hole through the second story of a house. Charles Xavier had quickly come to represent both a compassionate father figure and the chance to grow and learn in an environment that didn't condemn them for who or what they were. After overcoming his initial skepticism and shyness, Scott had embraced his mentor's dream and ideals with a fierce determination to never let the man down - to never give him a reason to regret hiss generosity. Jean had played a large part in helping him to emerge as the calm, confident young man he now was, and he'd latched onto that friendship, wrapping it around himself like a shield against the fear and uncertainty that came in the darkness of the night. Within two years of their arrival, their friendship had blossomed into a comfortable romance that further cemented Scott's feelings of finally having found somewhere that he belonged, somewhere that he fit in. He'd proposed to her one evening, over dinner at a restaurant, Jean had happily accepted and in less than a week, they'd moved into a room together. Neither of them had questioned aloud why, after three years of engagement, they had never set a date for the wedding. When the thought had occasionally crossed his mind, Scott had reasoned to himself that they were comfortable, content. That there was no reason to rush things...
Two months ago, Jean had finally broached the topic of children, expressing a desire to start a family. After his initial shock, Scott had calmly replied that he didn't really want children, and the proverbial shit had hit the fan. Jean had blown up in his face, tears trickling down reddened cheeks as she accused him of not loving her, of being a control freak, of having to have things his way at all times. Scott had grown pale, his heart squeezing in his chest with each hurtful word she'd thrown at him. He'd left the mansion that night and gone to a bar, getting drunk for the first time since he was a teenager. He'd returned in the wee hours of the morning, collapsed on the oversized chair in their bedroom rather than disturb a sleeping Jean, and passed out. In the morning, his once again tearful fiancee had apologized and they'd reconciled, their disagreement forgotten for the moment. Until she'd brought it up again this morning.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Scott stared blearily at the pile of English papers he had to correct for Monday's classes. Unwilling to spend a Sunday afternoon in argument with Jean, he'd locked himself in his office with every intention of losing his troubles in his work. And had failed miserably. Sighing loudly, he was about to rise from his chair and make his way to the kitchen for the fifth refill of coffee, when Xavier's rich mental voice sounded in his head.
/Scott, please come to my office./
/Professor, is something wrong?/ he sent back, brows furrowing in concern at the exhausted tone to Xavier's words.
/I would rather explain this face to face, Scott./
/Very well, sir, I'll be there shortly./
/Thank you/, was the final thing he 'heard', before the professor's presence was gone from his mind. Shaking himself and shoving his personal problems to the back of his mind, Scott slipped into full team leader mode as he made his way through the winding corridors to Xavier's private office. Even knowing he was expected, Scott still knocked on the closed door and waited until his mentor's voice beckoned him to enter.
Once inside, he seated himself in one of the chairs across the broad mahogany desk from Charles, and raised an eyebrow in inquiry. The face of the smooth headed man seated in the wheelchair on the other side spoke of sleepless hours and a deep concern that instantly raised Scott's internal alarms. Anything that could unsettle the normally collected man who'd been like a father to him was definitely cause for worry.
"Professor, what's happened?" For a moment, Charles simply regarded him in silence. Finally, he steepled his fingers before him, a look of concentration on his face as he began to speak.
"As you are aware, Warren has been away from the team now for several months," came the softly spoke words and Scott shrugged in reply.
"He said he needed some time to himself, Professor." Scott had never felt at ease around the privileged heir to Worthington Enterprises, had never been particularly close to him. They'd worked well together on missions, but during down time, had never spent a casual moment together.
"Yes," Xavier's voice interrupted his thoughts. "That's true. However, I attempted to contact Warren last week and was told by his staff that he'd disappeared. No one has seen or heard from him in over a month." Scott's eyebrows shot up from beneath his ruby lensed glasses in surprise.
"A month? It's unlike Warren to abandon his business ventures for so long... Do you suspect foul play?" The professor sighed softly and shook his head.
"I am sorry to say that I have already confirmed it," he said sadly. "I was able to locate him using Cerebro, but... His mind is a mass of turmoil, Scott. His sense of self, the identity of Warren Worthington III no longer seems to exist. In its place is someone else entirely."
"Professor..." Scott's brows had furrowed in heavy concern with each successive word as he waited for the older man to continue.
"It's as if someone entered his mind and erased that identity, replacing it with a false one... I was unable to determine who or why, before very powerful shields forcibly ejected me from his mind," Xavier finally responded to his prompting, his own expression pained. "For whatever reason, an extremely powerful telepath has altered our young friend's knowledge of
himself and left behind dangerous traps that prevent me from helping him from a distance. Traps that, in the brief examination I was able to give before being ejected, are set to be triggered by any further tampering. I am afraid that, unless Warren is brought to me here, at the mansion, I am unable to help him."
"Then we'll have to find him and bring him back, sir," Scott said confidently, beginning to rise from his chair as plans to assemble a team to head to New York began to simmer in his own brain. He was almost fully upright when his mentor's tired voice once again spoke.
"Sit down, Scott. The situation is not as easily resolved as that." Slowly returning to his seat, the leader of the X-Men leaned forward and waited for the explanation he knew would follow. In a rare display of frustration, Charles Xavier rubbed his face with the fingers of one hand.
"The traps, I suspect, would also be triggered by extreme emotions, such as anxiety, stress, fear, or anger. Normally, we could simply ask Warren to return and he would comply. However, there is another problem.... he no longer has any recollection of the mansion, the team, any of us. He firmly believes himself to be a young man who was raised by alcoholic parents, abused by his step-father, and abandoned to a life of hustling and stripping at a rather questionable establishment once his wings emerged." Scott digested the information slowly, his face a blank expression of shock.
"Who would do such a thing, Professor? Why? What do you propose we do? We can't just leave him like that," he finally forced out, his voice sounding strangely tight in his own ears.
"I have no intention of leaving him there, Scott," Charles admonished gently. "Someone needs to go into the city and establish contact with Warren. They will need to remain there as long as necessary to regain his trust, to convince him to come to the mansion and accept our help of his own free will. Someone like you, Scott."
"Me?" Scott responded, surprised. "But I barely knew Warren personally, sir. We were never what you could have called friends. Why me?"
"Because Warren's current 'personality' is rather... abrasive and confrontational, Scott, and there is no one else who possesses the calmness and control necessary to get beneath that defense," the professor said softly, his face now an unreadable mask. "He needs someone who will understand him, Scott, and I believe the best person for this task is you. Will you do it?"
For a long moment, Scott regarded his mentor in silence. An undefined length of time spent away from the school, away from all that he considered home - time spent befriending a man who had always made him feel uneasy. Time spent away from Jean. As the professor had no doubt expected, Scott's own worries fell beneath the weight of the responsibility he felt towards the team and the young man sighed.
"When do I leave and where do I go?" Charles nodded at his words, a slight smile spreading across his features.
"You will be leaving in the morning, Scott. I have already retained an apartment on the Lower East Side and will have a driver take you there," he said, pausing for a beat before continuing. "Thank you, Scott. I know this will not be easy for you, but I also know you will do your best and that is exactly what Warren needs right now."
"Thank me when I convince Warren to return, Professor," Scott answered quietly, rising from his chair and making his way towards the door. "He never really liked me, sir, and I don't think that will have changed with a new identity."
"Give yourself a chance, Scott - I think you might be surprised," came the cryptic reply, as the tall young man closed the door behind him, already thinking ahead to what he needed to pack as he headed towards his room. Their room... God only knew how Jean was going to react to this new development and Scott briefly found himself strangely grateful for the time apart. Time to recenter himself and come to terms with what he needed to do in order to save their relationship. Compromise never came easy to Scott, but a life without Jean frightened him more than he wanted to face and he was willing to do whatever was necessary to ensure that they continued just as they were. Safe and comfortable with each other.