Chapter Text
The food they offered him as snacks was probably worth more than any of the apartments he had stayed in for the last year. Perhaps more than all of them combined. He couldn´t be sure how much that specific brand and year of champagne was worth, but based on the circumstances he wouldn't be surprised if it could have fed him for an entire year. The food that came with it almost looked foreign. It was only an old, unutilised part of his brain that whispered their names to him: cannapés, caviar, cold meats, brie.
Not that he was complaining. He would never. It was food after all and he couldn't quite remember when he´d last been allowed to eat so much. He knew he shouldn't overdo it, they would think he was greedy and throw him right back where they found him. Plus his stomach was weak, if he puked in the leather of the expensive seats he was sitting on they would never want him. Not that he understood why they did now. Surely it was to boost their image, or maybe they were afraid of someone else finding the truth and they were finding another way to get rid of him. There was no way they actually cared enough to welcome him back.
Not with what he'd become.
The woman they had sent to get him kept staring at him from atop her ipad. It looked pretty new. He could probably get a good price for it in a pawn shop. An even better one if he managed to blend into a better part of town and convince a second hand store he was the original owner. He looked at what he was wearing. They had gotten him new clothes, designer clothes. He could probably manage. If anyone asked why they hung off him so much he could blame a growth sprout instead of the five years of constant malnutrition and abuse. If he found something to change into, he could probably also sell the clothes for a good price. Eat for a while and buy a couple of bus tickets to get away.
He’d keep that in mind.
The woman was still staring. She was trying to be discreet, she just wasn’t. He could understand her curiosity but that didn’t make this any less uncomfortable. He thought of eating something else to keep his mind occupied, his hands busy. No. He’d eaten three things already. He wouldn’t be rude, no matter how much his mouth watered and how he hated knowing that most of this would be thrown away either way. It didn’t matter. He could be good. He would remain good.
He looked out the window. The police escort surrounding the limousine kept traffic away as they went through the highway. If it’d been him behind the wheel, he’d be going faster. He liked speed, it calmed the voices in his head. Not that he should know how to drive to begin with. He was only fifteen, but Jack had gotten tired of always driving him around and he had to pull his weight. It was only fair, really. And even with his foster father controlling every part of the route, something about being behind a multiple ton vehicle that could kill people if he messed up ever so slightly felt liberating. He could do it right or wrong but it was his choice, not the result of a flimsy pair of glasses that could never leave his face.
Not if he wanted to stop living as a weapon.
And oh, how he wanted that. Not that he deserved it. It was what he was born to be, all he could ever help others with. And yet, he hoped… No. Hope only got him crushed. He pushed the pathetic feeling deep into himself. He had to be smart, practical. Useful. His heart was constantly breaking, constantly bringing pain. He would not be ruled by his weaknesses. He was dumb and gullible. Jack had made sure to remind him of that often enough but it wasn’t as bad as listening to his emotions. He just had to be better. Always better.
The woman cleared her throat, getting him to look at her fully for the first time since entering the car. Of course, he kept his head low enough that it was clear he wasn’t making eye contact even with his glasses on. He didn’t know the rules yet and would prefer not to get hit on his first day, thank you very much. She seemed uncomfortable with his eyes on her but hadn’t told him he could look away so he stayed as he was.
“Your Highness, we should be arriving at the palace in twenty minutes.” she declared. It was still strange to hear people referring to him by title. How had it once been so familiar that he’d thought it was his given name? He guessed that was the innocence of a child. Or of someone who’d grown up with a silver spoon up their butt. Had it truly only been five years since he’d left? A part of him felt like he’d never even lived there. How could a prince, the heir of a kingdom, have stooped so low? But she was still talking and he didn’t want to be punished for not listening. “There will be some press coverage of your arrival, but your father has made sure no reporter will be able to come close or ask for comment. It is merely so your people feel connected to your return.”
Press, of course. He was a public figure. The idea sent shivers down his spine but he kept himself still, in the same position as before. He'd spent the last two years of his life avoiding any kind of camera, terrified of what would happen if he got caught. Turned out the answer was receive a royal pardon for almost blowing up a nuclear plant and murder, sit in a SHIELD office for a couple of days, be treated in the best hospital in the country, and then be sent back to his parents. It should be a dream come true but all he could think about was that he would have to deal with it without Jack, that he didn’t know the rules and that surely if it was that simple they could have found him sooner and saved him from so much pain.
“The court will be present to welcome you back but you are not expected to interact with anyone but your royal parents and brothers, at least not publicly.” Continued the woman, oblivious to the conflict inside of him. “You will be given the rest of the day to get settled and tomorrow a feast will be held in your honor. Do you have any questions?” she was finished. He shook his head quietly and went back to staring at his hands.
So much to think about. So much to decide. So much to feel. No. No feelings. He wouldn’t ruin this for himself or others. They were welcoming him back publicly. They wanted the popularity that a heartwarming family moment would give them. He would perform accordingly. He would be what they wanted from him in exchange for shelter and food. Just like before, just like always.
The car crossed huge metallic gates that were embedded in the distorted memories of the Before. Here they were, it was time to see his childhood again. Did he remember right or had everything been changed by his damaged brain? Would he recognize them? Would they recognize him? Of course they would. SHIELD probably gave them all of his case files. They knew what he looked like. He was getting emotional. Couldn’t afford it. Breathe. Hold. Straight spine. He was ready.
Just as the car stopped and a valet came to open the door, the woman spoke again.
“Your Highness, wearing sunglasses on such an occasion might be considered rude. All the etiquette you learned as a child is still quite applicable.” An order, hidden in a warning. Take them off. Except he couldn´t. He´d be blind and didn't remember the layout well enough to navigate it. Not to mention it would be more rude to have his eyes closed. All of that to show an important thing: they had no idea he was a mutant. At least that was what Dr. Essex called him. That explained why they were still willing to give him a chance. They could never know. And so, he needed an excuse. Fast.
“I have a medical condition. Can’t take them off.” He said, and the memories started to trickle over. Memories of the Before. Of the ruby tinted world he knew so well. That was true. He started wearing them before. “My parents know.” The nail in the coffin. She could say whatever she wanted against him, why shouldn’t she? but his parents were the King and Queen. Her King and Queen. She couldn’t contradict them. And so she nodded.
The valet opened the door next to him and the noise hit him as though it was one of Jack’s fists. Chatter, cameras, steps, gravel moving under people. So much. He wanted to hide. Run. He had to be good. He stood up and put on his more convincing smile, hoping it didn’t come off like the grimace it felt like. The voices stopped but the shutters of cameras intensified. Using the cover of his glasses he looked around. The palace was a gigantic structure, he never bothered to learn the material it was made of but he was sure it was expensive especially as it was kept in pristine conditions. The gardens around him were trimmed to perfection. Not a leaf was out of place. Behind him was the main gate. Easiest escape in theory but it was heavily guarded. Still, tearing it down by taking off his glasses and making a run for it was probably a better idea than a wild goose chase through the gardens. To his left more guards kept the photographers at bay. He had the good sense to look at them and give a small wave. They wanted people to feel connected, right? In front of him, perfectly organized by order of importance stood the court. And atop the flight of stairs that led to the hall were his parents and brothers.
If he wanted to run before, now he wanted to scream, to break something. They looked so happy, so relieved. So unbroken. He had dragged himself back from hell to be here. No one had been there to help him, except for Jack, and even that could be a debate. And here they were. The perfect family. No pain, no scars. He hated them. He loved them. He wanted them gone and yet he wanted them to never let him go. His brothers had grown up so much without him, they looked at him the way you do a family friend you have heard of but never actually met. They were strangers. His precious brothers. His anchor. Gone. And yet so close. His parents were smiling invitingly. Like they couldn’t wait for him to be close enough to hug. But they couldn’t bother to talk to him before right now, not even over the phone. It could have been one of them in the hospital, in the car with him instead of the woman. But he would never come before their duty, their image. It was the price of royalty. He knew it. Why did it hurt? He couldn’t help but wonder if Jack would’ve been in the car. Probably, but he would have been beaten and maybe even raped on the way there. Was that better?
It didn’t matter. He was gone and all of those were feelings. Feelings had no place in his life. He kept the smile on his face and kept walking. He’d be good. Food and shelter. It was all that mattered. As he walked between them, the nobles parted for him and bowed deeply, murmuring his title. He was going to be sick. He shouldn’t have eaten. He was too weak for this. One foot then another. He couldn’t mess up his chance at stable meals and a bed. Too soon he stood before his family. He bowed slightly to his father and mother and then waited.
And waited.
They hated him. They had to. He was a disappointment and they were seeing it. Pathetic, weak, good for nothing but the streets. No one would blame them, they would applaud them getting rid of the freak he was. Maybe, they’d be kind enough to kill him. To stop the pain. Not that he deserved it.
“Christofer, it is good to have you home.” His father’s voice was as warm as it’d been when he was ten. He hated it. And even more he hated what he called him. He hadn’t been called by his middle name in a long time. Both Essex and Jack had preferred to use his first name and somehow, through the pain he’d grown to love it. Christofer Summers Jr. was dead. He’d died at ten years old. In his place stood Scott Summers and he did not want to go back. He didn’t know how to.
A hand in his shoulder startled him back to the present. Even with everything in him telling him to move, to get out, he stayed put. His previous guardian had trained him properly. It was his mother. Her eyes were watery and before he could react he was being pulled into her arms. He forced himself to return the gesture, picturing the warmth he could get during the winter months and trying to remember the feeling of a full stomach. He hoped it’d be worth the way his heart seemed to be screaming. It lasted agonizing seconds but he kept a smile on him when he was released.
“I hope the journey was good.” Pleasantries. They hadn’t seen him in five years and that was all they had? How could this be the same woman that had given birth to him?
“Yeah. It was alright.” he answered. The smiles on his parents' faces strained for a fraction of a second. Enough time to understand his mistake. That wasn’t how a prince was supposed to talk. He knew better. Stupid. They were going to punish him as soon as they were away from the cameras. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
He fought to keep his expression controlled and breathing even. How far would they go? They had an entire dungeon and people specialized in torture in their staff. Would they use that on him? Could he take it? Should he run now? No, he’d earned it. He would pay for his mistake however they decided and maybe they would still give him some scrap of food. They had been kind when he was a kid, if he begged enough he might be able to convince them to let him sleep in one of the garden sheds. But to do that he had to take his punishment. Be good.
“Brother, we are honored to have you return.” Alex’s voice had changed. It had lost the sounds of early childhood and the joy of innocence. Scott was hit with the thought that no ten year old should sound so formal or stand so straight in clothes worth that much money. He should be running in the garden, covered in dirt as he pushed his friends. Friends that cared about him and not his crown. Alex was supposed to have that. He was supposed to give him all of that, to free him from the burden of being first-born and heir. He had failed him. He had… No. No feelings. He couldn’t afford more mistakes. Couldn’t risk his chances at some semblance of security.
“Thank you, brother, I am most happy to see you all again.” The posh accent and way of speaking felt ridiculous. He half expected everyone around him to burst out laughing, maybe hit him for sounding so pretentious. Instead, he received several nods of approval. Somehow that made him feel just as dirty as when Jack would take him to bed.
Only Gabriel was still silent. He was looking at him like he couldn’t piece him together. When he was taken, Gabe had only been two. Too young to remember anything about Scott. Even now he was only seven and kept stealing glances at his governess as if asking to be rescued. This interaction would have to be started by the oldest.
Taking a step towards the youngest prince, the teenager crouched down to get to his height. He didn’t know if this was okay, if it was proper. He hadn’t been trained on how to interact with children when he no longer was one but it eased the wariness in the eyes of his brother and that was enough.
“Nice to meet you again, Gabriel.” he stated and offered his hand. The young boy looked confused for a second but then smiled a toothy grin that was missing just enough teeth to melt his heart. He felt a small hand in his and shook it just a little too exaggeratedly, earning a giggle. The chubby face got really serious a moment later and Scott got ready for what must be an important question to the kid.
“Are you really my brother?” It sounded so innocent but felt so loaded. He didn’t feel like he was. He felt like an intruder, an imposter but knew that if they took a DNA test it would say he was. Unless being a mutant changed that too. He looked in the eyes of the youngling. He knew the answer was yes but couldn’t make himself say it. So he went with the only alternative he could see.
“If you accept me as one.” The answer seemed good enough for the kid as his smile came back and he nodded emphatically. Returning the gesture hurt but he managed before standing back up and looking at the four strangers who had once been his whole world. Waiting for further instruction, for a guide, for any of the real warmth he had craved for the past five years.
His King took a step towards him and put a hand on his shoulder to guide him inside. Scott thought he was saying something but he had trouble paying attention. He should, he knew he should, but all he could think about was how the entrance gate was getting further away and with it everything he’d known in the past years. He was entering the palace and that meant privacy. Privacy meant punishment. What would that look like here? What would they want from him here? He wanted to run, to throw up, to scream. His face showed nothing but a pleasant smile. Too many eyes were still on him. He couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail. Not more than he already had.
He expected to be let go of pretty quickly, instead he was taken through the maze that was his childhood home with the unnerving and ever present grip on his shoulder reminding him he had no real escape. It was fine. He’d be good. Anything for warmth and food. Even if it shattered the golden memories of the Before he used to hide in when everything became too much. He would break as many times as it was necessary if it kept him alive. Or if it made him die sooner. Either worked.
They finally stopped in front of what had once been his bedroom door. He could faintly hear someone say it had been cleaned and renewed for him to stay there once again. He didn’t want to. He never wanted to see those walls again. But he nodded. If they wanted him there, he would accept it. He had to. Choices weren’t made for freaks like him. The two men standing by the doors opened them and he was guided inside.
The furniture was different, so was the color of the walls. He couldn’t tell what hue it was with his glasses but it was definitely darker than before. The toys had been replaced with video game consoles, a flat screen TV and a laptop. The couches were real leather with velvet decorative throw pillows. The bed was large enough to hold an orgy and the bedding looked like silk. In short, the room was so expensive it made him dizzy. Or maybe he was dizzy because no matter the change in decor, everywhere he looked he thought he saw Nate hiding in the shadows, ready to take him again. He had always told him if he dared come back he would do just that, and take Alex and Gabe as well to punish him for his insolence. He had been far for long enough that he had begun to doubt that it was a real threat but he couldn’t ever be sure. This was still Dr. Essex. He shouldn’t be underestimated.
He was led to one of the couches and made to sit down. When he looked up he saw his brothers were gone but his parents were sitting on either side of him. Trapping him. Breathe. Hold. He forced himself to tune back to the present.
“Christofer, we are really happy that you’re back. We’re just concerned. We know very little of what happened while you were gone. And what we know isn’t news we ever expected to get regarding you. So, we ask that you explain how you came to be in such a situation.” his father. Should he even be thinking of him that way? Probably not. His King. They wanted to know how he had ended up breaking into a nuclear plant with a petty criminal who was never seen getting out after the part they were in exploded.
He didn’t know what to say. They were angry. Of course they were. They had every right to be. He was a criminal. A murderer. He should be on trial for it, not sitting on a couch that was worth more than his life. But what could he tell them? Really? ‘Oh, a crazy scientist that is obsessed with the fact that I can be the father of the perfect version of a race you don’t even know exists kidnapped me to experiment on me. And I didn’t fight him as hard as I should have because he had been messing with my mind for months making me see a child version of him that created an abusive friendship with me. But don’t worry I did manage to run away from him! Except that he convinced me if I ever came to you or the police he would do to my brothers what he did to me so I prefered to stay on the streets. But it’s okay because an absolute creep that could also mess with minds felt the fact that I was also part of this race took me in! He just made me pay him back by hitting me, and rapping me, and whoring me out to his associates, and forcing me to commit crimes in his name. But he can’t bother me anymore because I killed him after he took me to a nuclear plant to try and become an even more powerful mutant. Oh also, I got brain damage during the experimentation and have deadly rays coming out of my eyes at all times and I can never stop them! How about a hug?’ Yeah, he didn’t think so. So he just stayed quiet, looking at his hands.
The silence stretched on for a long time. It became clear he wouldn’t speak, it was just too painful.
“It’s okay, take your time. We’ll be here when you’re ready.” His Queen’s voice startled him. It was kind. Much too kind for what he deserved. He stared at her, not understanding one bit. How could she be kind after what she knew? He had disregarded a direct order. She should be angry, beating him to pieces, screaming at the very least. Instead she stood up and kissed his forehead. “Get some rest, we’ll call you for lunch.”
“But-” he started. He didn't understand. Where was the punishment? Where was the pain that followed disobedience? He flinched when the word left his mouth. He couldn’t question them. He wasn’t on the same level as them. He was just scum. His reaction seemed to give them pause. Perhaps they had realized how pathetic he truly was.
“Son, no one here is going to hurt you. Especially not us. We understand this is hard for you. Take as much time as you need. We just want the best for you.” The man said with love in his eyes and voice. He squeezed Scott’s shoulder again and left with his wife. Their son watched them go unsure what to say, what to think.
It took him a long time to stand up and when he did it was only so he could curl into a ball on the floor. It was more familiar, more comforting. He stayed there not thinking of anything.
He stayed there knowing he was completely alone.