Freedom

He had always wondered why.

Why did his instincts tell him to be wary of those around him?

Why did they try to guide him to do certain things?

Why were they even there in the first place?

But now, Scott was beginning to understand why; beginning to piece together the puzzle. His visions, were not perfect, not whole. They showed key moments and bits of information, but they did not show every second of Cyclops's life, only the most important parts of it. They provided him with the information that was best to guide him down a different path and so, his instincts existed.

Though he could not see every moment, could not see every part of Cyclops's life, the instincts that possessed him helped to fill in the gaps.

'I should have listened to them.' Scott thought to himself, looking out from the window, down onto the grounds below. The children of the orphanage were once again running around, wrapped up in their coats and smiling happily as they were being herded towards Robyn Hanover. It had rained the night before, the ground slick with mud and filled with puddles that they were being held back from jumping into by the workers.

They were going out on a walk.

But he had not been invited.

That was the fourth time in the past week.

It was just like his instincts told him, Robyn could not be trusted and he should have listened to them. She got close to him and opened up the barriers he put up to protect himself and then, just when he felt safe and secure, she left. Robyn ignored his existence and when she couldn't, treated him coldly and harshly.

He had been played and he had fallen for it like a fool; a desperate one.

"Scott." Mr Milbury spoke, entering the room, two workers by his side. "It's time for a checkup."

Saying nothing, Scott silently rose to his feet and followed them, guided down the corridors by the workers as Mr Milbury walked ahead of them. He had been a fool to rely on someone else, a fool to believe that he would be able to ask for help from someone else. The only one he could rely upon was himself, it was just a foolish hope of a child to count upon adults to help him, the last vestige of an innocent child who had believed in the kindness of others.

Clenching his fist tightly, Scott moved silently across the room they entered, climbing onto the operating table and laying down, the workers strapping the leather restraints around his wrists, ankles, waist and neck, holding him down tightly. Mr Milbury meanwhile moved towards a cupboard, opening it up and pulling out a small syringe, one filled with a murky, grey substance.

"It's unfortunate, what happened to the Bogarts; Richard and his wife, Tricia." Mr Milbury spoke, Scott giving no response to his words, just remaining silent. "They were so excited about adopting you, shame that their plane crashed mere days before the process was finalised."

Mr Milbury then walked towards him with a smile, Scott kept his gaze firmly upon the ceiling of the room. "However, their untimely and unfortunate fate does allow us both to continue working together." He spoke, smiling largely, as he pierced the skin of his arm with a needle, slowly pushing down and injecting the substance into his veins and Scott writhed heavily, gritting his teeth as he felt an uncomfortable burning sensation cross over his body, trying not to release any sounds of pain or discomfort. "I keep to get testing and you, get the fruits of my labour. This is something I have been working upon for some time now, I hope you enjoy it."

He jerked violently, straining against the restraints as his body convulsed uncontrollably, veins bulging and pulsing disgustingly, threatening to burst out from his skin. Blood seeped from his lips as he bit down upon his tongue in an effort to quell his cries of pain, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, piercing the skin.

Finally, it all became too much, Scott letting out a gagged cry, body arching off the table before collapsing, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head as unconsciousness claimed him.

-X- Line Break -X-

When Scott awoke, it was not in his room as usual.

No.

It was back where he had fallen unconscious, strapped to the operating table. He had not been moved or returned to his room, still trapped and restrained to the table, unable to move. 'So, he no longer intends to keep up the facade of medical checkups anymore.' He thought, managing to use some of the slack upon the neck restraint to look around the room.

There was no clock, and he was not able to tell how much time had passed since he had fallen unconscious, no window in sight to allow him to see the outdoors. He was surrounded by stone walls on all four sides, a single glaring light, emitting just enough light to illuminate him, but leave the corners of the room engulfed in shadows. Medical apparatus lined the room, tidily placed in easy-to-reach places for the one not restrained, tools that Scott had become intimately familiar with during his time in this room.

But the fact that the room was empty meant that it had been a few hours had passed at the minimum, long enough for the monitoring period to end.

No doubt records of him were being erased.

Some sort of accident about to be arranged that would explain his disappearance, probably a fake death. Then he would be at the mercy of Mr Milbury for the rest of his life, experimented upon until he had satisfied all of his sick curiosity. When he had, he would probably turn his attention towards his brother.

The thought made Scott's fists clench once more, pulling against the restraints that held him firmly in place. 'I can't stay here.' Scott told himself. 'Not anymore." He had stayed, trying to find his brother's location, but had been unable to get close thanks to the workers that moved like machines when night fell. His attempts to rely upon Robyn had failed, triggering a change in her character that left him alone once more.

The only one he could rely upon was himself.

The only one who could save his brother was him and him alone.

He had denied his instincts not just because he was unsure of what they meant or signified. He had denied them because he was afraid of what they told him to do, would make him do. But now he embraced them and suddenly, in this moment of need, everything became clear as he studied the room, gaze landing upon a single mirror, a mouth mirror. It was tucked away inside a narrow area, but it was positioned at just the right angle, even if it would be an impossible shot for most people.

But he was not most people.

Eyes flashing red, he looked towards the mirror and fired, the beams reflecting and striking against the metal clip that held him in place. Now able to move more freely, Scott lifted his neck and fired again, hitting the restraints on his wrists, around his waist and then his ankles.

He did not know what Mr Milbury had injected him with, nor what the other experiments had accomplished, but he did not care at this moment in time. Scott was free of his restraints, hidden away from the world and his powers were not affected in any way. It was now time to let his instincts take over, to trust them and rely upon them as he should have done in the beginning.

Cyclops was a part of him, a possible future of who he might become.

These instincts were his and he could only rely upon himself.

-X- Line Break -X-

Firing his Optic Blasts at the door, Scott marched through the doorway, stepping onto the broken remains of the wooden frame that had once been a door. He took a look around, seeing Mr Milbury's office empty and then moved towards the filing cabinet.

Working his way down, Scott opened it up drawer by drawer until he finally got to the S-section, flicking through the numerous files till he found his brothers. He paused, momentarily to see his own file there and picked it up, seeing that it was stamped with the words, deceased. The sight made him chuckle humourlessly, his thoughts having been proven correct.

Mr Milbury had abandoned all pretexts of being a carer and was keeping him purely for experimental purposes. He had no intention of letting him roam freely and open the possibility of letting another family like the Bogarts adopt him, taking Scott away from him.

'He was probably the one that also had the Bogarts killed.' The thought made Scott angry, an emotion that only grew when workers rushed down the corridor, at the head of them being Robyn Hanover.

Stepping out of the office, Scott turned, and they too come to a stop as they looked upon him. But before they could say or do anything, Scott's eyes glowed red, energy beams blasting out with a concussive force that threw them all back down the way they came, the windows along the corridor shattering into tiny fragments that glittered in the moonlight like stardust. Each of them cried out in pain, smashing into the walls before his beams subsided.

As they collapsed to the ground, some conscious enough to look at him, but little else. Their bodies were a mess of broken bones and torn muscles that left only a few with enough strength to look upon him through bloody gazes, Scott looking upon them dismissively as he turned away, making his way down the stairs and into the courtyard.

Though Mr Milbury had not been at his office, he had been nearby and now stood in front of the gateway, the only exit out of the orphanage. More workers stood behind him, held back as if they were on a leash, but chomping at the bit to be unleashed upon him like rabid animals.

It was a sight Scott recognised from the visions he had seen many times. 'Telepathy?' Scott thought, clutching the piece of paper in his hands tightly as he continued walking towards Mr Milbury and the workers.

He now had his answer.

The reason the workers were like machines was when night fell.

The reason Robyn had changed so suddenly.

It was all Milbury.

"Is this really what you want, Scott?" The head of the State Home for Foundlings asked, his face showing neither displeasure nor joy at his rebellious actions. "You leave these walls and you'll find out just how dangerous the world is for children like you. It is already bad enough for a human, a normal child to be out there alone. But a child with abilities like yours? You will be hunted down forever."

Scott said nothing, just resolutely moving forwards.

Mr Milbury showed the first sign of emotion at his silence and determination, frowning in displeasure. "Here, you are safe and secure, without fear of being hunted. I have been looking after you, protecting you, you will realise that very soon."

"Shut up," Scott muttered finally.

"Scott..."

His eyes glowed brightly, Mr Milbury's own widening in shock. "I said," Scott then unleashed it all, Optic Blasts firing out with such force and power that the wind blew the water and mud around him that had gathered on the ground, splattering against the trees and the walls of the orphanage. It carried down the street, taking off the lights of the lamposts that lined the streets, shattering the glass of the cars and house windows, and car alarms filled the air and engulfed the small street in a blinding light that could be seen for miles around.

A beautiful beam of brilliant red light that shone like a beacon in the night sky.

A beam that slowly subsided, decreasing in size and width to a small line that slowly disappeared, Scott now stood alone. Mr Milbury and the workers are nowhere to be seen, the entrance open to him and none in his path. "Be quiet."

He stood there for a moment, looking back at the orphanage, children having heard the commotion and looking out to see what had happened. They whispered to their roommates, all ducking down out of sight when they saw him looking their way. Scott then lifted the paper which showed his brothers and the Blanding's address, he had what he had come for, there was nothing here for him, no reason to stay.

He then started working forwards, stumbling slightly as the exhaustion of using his powers in such a way caught up with him. Yet Scott caught his footing and kept marching forwards, raising himself up through sheer determination as he fought the exhaustion and fatigue that gripped his body, the pain of the experiment still felt but ignored through force of will as he pressed on.

Just like the man in his visions.

He resolutely put one foot in front of the other without so much as a glance back.

Always moving forwards and never stopping.