psinex@yahoo.com Talk by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: They're Marvel's. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. CONTINUITY: Alternate Earth; just after Starting Block Chapter 8. I'll explain the rest along the way. ------------------------------------------------------- 10/7/00: X-Mansion Hangar: 08:20 hrs EDT: ------------------------------------------------------- "Dad ? I beat the crap outta Bill Shade." #Nate ?# Scott Summers thought, clambering down quickly from the Blackbird, leaving a spray of parts across the wing as he all but bolted down the ladder. The X-Men's Blue Team field leader found his son standing before him at the bottom, still in his red and yellow Generation X v. 1.0 traning uniform. Nate's eyes were big, blue, and positively terrified as they met his father's crimson gaze. "Nate, what happened ?" Scott asked the 11-year-old, seeing the brown mop of hair dip as the boy looked at his feet. "He - he was teasin' me - bad, not little stuff, 'bout how I'm hairless an' a baby an' - well, he - I - I POUNDED on him, Dad, with my teke, an' he went into the Danger Room FLOOR, an' - an' I brain-fried him," Nate rambled, concluding the tale with a swallow that left Scott's stomach churning. #Oh Lord,# Scott thought, motioning the boy over to the nearest bench. #Not like I'm any stranger to being the outsider ...# "Uncle Hank says Bill'll be OK - as OK as he ever is - but I feel awful," Nate mumbled, wiping his eyes. "I didn't mean t'mind-fry him. It just ... happened. And you said -" "'Power accidents never just happen,'" Scott replied tonelessly, the rote coming back to him. He looked at Nate with as much sincerity as he could from behind his ruby quartz lenses and said, "He kept pushing you ?" "For weeks !" Nate exclaimed tearfully. "I tried not t'let it get to me - to be tough - but - I'm not as big as the other guys, but none of THEM ever tease me - not bad, anyway, they're just playin' - but Bill's different. Mean." "Lehnsherr genes," Scott muttered icily. "How the hell they skipped a generation ...come to think of it, Wanda CAN be a bitch on wheels when she's angry ..." He met Nate's gaze again and sighed. "Come here. Are you OK physically ? Did Hank check you over ?" Scott asked, slipping an arm around Nate's shoulders. The boy nodded, mumbling another apology as Scott looked at him. "Good. OK. First, I know I told you not to fight unless you had to. But some people need to get a swift kick in the ass once in a while," Scott said. "And if you're going to deliver an ass-whupping to someone, do it well." "Really !?" Nate exclaimed, his eyes wide with astonishment instead of fear. "But you - you NEVER say 'ass-whupping' !" "Well, it's you and me, here. Dad and son time," Scott said with a small smile. "Now, what's this 'hairless' garbage ? If that punk was ogling you in the locker room, I'll -" "No ! Nothin' like that," Nate said, blushing. "But i don't have a hairy chest. An' I'm the smallest - I've been working out with Joe and the other guys, but ... I'm still just 11." "And growth takes time. I know that one," Scott said, removing his arm from around Nate's shoulder. "When I was 12, I was scrawny. Smaller than you, for a time - came from eating from garbage cans after running from Sinister's orphanage. Then I met Jack Winters ..." "The Living Diamond," Nate said, unable to keep a tone of awed fear out of his voice as he turned his gaze to look at Scott. "The Living Moron," Scott grumbled. "A perfect example of a 'waste of a mutant gene,' like Frenzy told your Uncle Bobby years ago. He wasn't even that smart of a criminal, really - a bully with superpowers. But I, being 12 and scared and wearing glasses and fatherless and missing your Uncle Alex and your grandparents terribly, needed someone. And Winters was there for me in the wrong ways." He paused, taking a deep breath, and said, "His was the first death I ever saw. It was a strange death - a man shattering like glass - but it was death. It ... changes you. You know what mortality is." Scott looked at Nate and said, "It's a scary place, Nate. You know that you can END. END. Not just fall-asleep-and-wake-up-eight-hours-later, but END. And I'm betting you were afraid you'd killed Bill." Nate hung his head and whispered, "Yeah. I don't wanna kill ANYONE, Dad. Ever. But I got so mad ... and I lost control ..." "But you know you did it. And you didn't lose it totally," Scott said. "Even with the mindshock, you didn't kill. Should you have fought Bill ? Hard to say. Am I angry ? No. Boys fight - even with superpowers, boys fight - and they learn limits." "What about girls ?" Nate asked. "They don't ever seem to fight - I mean, with each other." Scott grinned and said, "Oh, they fight. With words, glances, and a hundred other subtle little ways. Women are far, far deadlier than men, Nate. They're not evil - most aren't, anyhow - but they're MUCH deadlier. Men beat their problems over the head with that same old club we've had since the microbe days. Women ... women vivisect theirs, and make them suffer for existing. That's how they learn limits." "Yikes," Nate breathed. "That's why Ray can scare all us guys, huh ?" Scott stifled a laugh - #That'll scar,# he thought, feeling blood come from his bit cheek - and said, "Your sister has learned the arts of female warfare from a MISTRESS. Never, NEVER anger a Grey woman, Nate - they excel at two things: love in all its forms, and revenge." "Yeah," Nate said amicably, relaxing at last. "Mom kicks serious butt, and Ray does too. But Ray still gets all mushy over Frank." Scott sighed and said, "Yes, she does, doesn't she ?" He saw Nate looking at him with a growing smile and added, "He's not a bad sort ... Olympic medalist, and he's a good kid ... and rich ... and he loves your sister, I'm sure ..." "But you still worry 'bout her," Nate smiled. "I do too, even if it's Frank. But if we tell Mom or Ray -" "That's one of the hard parts of being a guy," Scott chuckled. "How to protect our female relatives without smothering them. Same rule applies as in combat - we overreact easily to problems. Women examine them, THEN tear them apart." "But you think things through," Nate insisted. "I just ... went off on Bill." "Men can learn to thinkthings through," Scott said. "It just takes time - I wasn't the anal-retentive 'One-Eye' fearless leader I am today overnight." Nate hugged him and said, "You're a kewl dad, though. I won't tell anyone you said 'ass-whupping.' Thanks - y'know - for bein' here." "You're welcome. Now, if Shade keeps bugging you, tell someone," Scott said as Nate stood. "Sometimes, it takes a bigger - and different kind - of club to pound sense into a guy." "I think I understand," Nate agreed, breaking into a run. "See ya at lunch !" "See ya," Scott said, smiling as he swallowed hard. #God, he's growing up so fast ...# He stood, returning to work on the Blackbird, and felt a gentle tapping at the base of his mind. ~Guy talk over ?~ ~Thanks for letting me handle that,~ Scott thought, smiling at the rosy red glow in his mind. ~Some things -~ ~'Need a different type of club,'~ Jean sent warmly. ~How old were we when you gave me that line ?~ ~Old enough to know better,~ Scott thought, turning red at the images Jean sent him. ~Ye gods, woman, turn down that thermostat !~ ~Oh, but Scott, it's such a delicious memory ... you and the disco ball and that polyester ... and what came afterwards ...~ Scott winced and thought, ~I was right. You're ENJOYING this.~ ~Hey, Grey women excel at two things, stud,~ Jean laughed, easing off the rapport. #Thank God for both of them,# Scott thought, allowing himself a wicked grin as he turned back to the Blackbird. ------------------------------------------------------ end ;) This Nate's adventures continue in the Academia series, ongoing. ------------------------------------------------------ __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Send instant messages with Yahoo! Messenger. http://im.yahoo.com/ ________________________________________________________________________ Start an Email List For Free at Topica. http://www.topica.com/register