1X04 – Midsummer Night’s Dream – Tag | X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

1X04 – Midsummer Night’s Dream – Tag

1X04 – Midsummer Night’s Dream – Tag

She stood in her greenhouse, clipping away at plants that probably didn’t need a trim but it was something to do.

“Ororo,” Charles said as he came down the aisle. “How did it go today?”

“Forge has nothing to do with Sentinel,” she told him flatly, “but he did give us a name, Colonel Trask. I’ve asked Doug to look into it as Kitty is in Alaska.”

“One lead is better than none,” the man nodded, then after a pause said, “but I notice you still call him Forge.”

“Force of habit, nothing more,” she assured him and clipped a dying leaf from one of the plants.

“You cannot hide the truth, Ororo,” Charles spoke sadly, “outwardly you appear calm, like the eye of a storm, but internally, well, it doesn’t take a telepath to see that you are struggling, wracked with tumultuous emotions.”

“Like all storms, it will pass,” she kept her eyes on her plants. “It is the nature of things.”

“Ororo,” he said with a sigh, “when I told you your emotions directly affected your ability to control the natural elements of weather, I did not intend for you to simply shut them out.”

Pulling down one of the stems she stared into a beautiful purple orchid, “When I am happy, the sun shines and the breeze is cool, when I am sad, storm clouds gather and the winds howl,” she glanced over at the man, “but nature is delicate in her balance, she does not care if I am happy, or sad. I could destroy cities in a biblical flood and not even realize I am doing it,” she went back to her flower, “what is that old saying? A butterfly flaps her wings in Mexico and causes a tornado in Oklahoma… I am that butterfly.”

The Professor was quiet for a moment, “You have a better understanding of your mutation, Ororo, more so than you did then.”

“Yes I do, Charles,” she let the flower go and moved onto the next, “but that does not change the fact that when I get emotional I destroy lives, and Forge… Jonathan… makes me very emotional.”

“Do you really believe you can continue your life like this?” he asked her sadly.

“We shall see, Charles,” she clipped off another dying leaf, “we shall see.”

…

Scott sat in the waiting area of the hanger bay, his head cast downwards, the screaming voice of his brother still in his ears. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t look people in the eye, not after what had happened…

“Today, the Air Force at Hickam Base will be saying goodbye to one of their own,” the news reporter on the TV caught his attention, “Air Force Major Christopher Summers and his wife, Katherine, are being flown with honors to his home of Anchorage, Alaska, where he will be laid to rest. Summers was piloting the small air craft which suffered catastrophic engine failure due to lightening strikes during the massive storm which struck the islands two weeks ago. Summers managed to pilot the plane over a non-populated area before, as the Air Force and NTSB report, one of the engines exploded and sent it down,” that was the story given to the media, it was close enough to the truth, the engine had exploded due to the lightening strike but had Scott not destroyed the other one… then perhaps the plane could have hobbled to a landing..

“Christopher and Katherine were on board when the plane went down,” the reporter continued, “but as a precaution they had their two sons, Scott and Alex, parachute from the plane,” another lie for the media to cover his guilt, “Twelve year old Alex Summers is believed to have landed off the coast. The Coast Guard are still searching for any sign of the boy but he is now considered missing, presumed dead. His older brother Scott Summers made it to landfall safely and is said to be recovering from injuries, a flood of well-wishes have been sent to the young man and our hearts go out to him.”

“Scott,” the Captain called his name from the doorway. “It’s time.”

“Right,” he nodded and picked up his backpack, slinging it on his good shoulder before following the man out into the hanger.

From there he could easily see the cargo plane which would fly his parents back to Alaska. Over a dozen officers stood in dress blues, flanking the two coffins with an American Flag draped over each of them.

“Attend hut,” someone called out as they came to a stop in front of the coffins. The officer’s boots snapped together as they raised their hands in salute. A mournful cadence began to play as the coffins were slowly loaded into the cargo plane.

As he watched them go, Scott fought back tears that threatened to engulf him, holding his head up high, being strong for his father. He wouldn’t let him down again, not ever again.

The roar of engines sounded overhead and he looked up to see fighter planes fly by in the missing man formation. As he stared up into the blue sky, all he saw was red.

“Weather’s coming in,” Scott said as he saw the familiar storm clouds start to settle across the Alaskan skyline as they got off their snowmobiles.

“Too bad we don’t have Storm with us,” Kitty spoke beside him as they headed towards the small cabin which was the last known coordinates of the mutant they were seeking.

“Hey,” Bobby sounded indignant, “if it snows, I’m your man. Honestly, I’m not feeling the love in this group, at all.”

“Let’s just try to get back to civilization before we have to worry about the weather,” Jean suggested and then nearly ran into Logan as he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air.

“Kid ain’t there,” he said, then started to veer off to the left.

JP dashed forward to the cabin and within a few seconds was back, “He’s right, empty, but has signs of someone being in there recently.”

“Logan?” Scott asked the man who had now squatted, fiddling with the ground.

“Kid went this way, followed by two others,” he sniffed again, “the air is thick with fear.”

“Brotherhood?” they had checked, none seemed to have been in the area.

The man shook his head, “I’d say locals.”

“Ah, great, the local lynch mob has arrived,” Bobby said drolly.

“We better find him before they do,” Scott gestured back to the bikes, “JP, scout ahead, Logan, you’re on point.”

Logan gave the other Canadian a general direction and the man disappeared, they all got back onto their snowmobiles and proceeded to follow.

As Scott looked across the snow covered plains and the white topped mountains… all he could see… was red.

On the next episode of X-Men: The (fan fic) Series…

— “Jeanne-Marie!” – Jean-Paul
“Aurora!” – Jeanne-Marie

— “This is a short mission, a couple of days in South America and we’re out again.” – Quicksilver

—“Aurora is a completely distinct and separate personality?” – Scott

—“What does Magneto want with Mengele’s notes?” – Rogue

—“Everyone thinks they know what’s best for Marie, but no one knows her better than me, this is your only warning, leave… us… alone.” – Aurora

—“Jeanne-Marie has Mutation Induced Dissociative Identity Disorder.” – Jean-Paul

Episode 1X05 – Second Star to the Right

1X04 – Midsummer Night’s Dream

Written by JayCee

Based off Marvel Comics’ X-Men created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby,
with Chris Claremont.

Adapted for Television by JayCee

Executive Producer – JayCee
Co-Producer – Chellerbelle
Script Consultant – ginchy

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X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

A series of short stories in a fictional X-Men TV Universe.