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Chapter 1


Written by K-Nice
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 1

The night air was cool, a soft breeze running fingers through Scott's hair. He loosened his tie and undid his top button. Resting his arms on railing, he looked out onto the Chesapeake Bayr.

Alex walked up behind him. "Thanks for coming, Scott." His white dress uniform seemed to gleam in the moonlight, still fresh from the graduation ceremony that afternoon.

Dismissing the thanks as unnecessary with a wave of his hand, Scott leaned forward on his hands. "So, the Navy, huh?"

Alex smiled slowly. "Yeah, the Navy. You don't mind?" It was an odd question, especially from Alex, who rarely seemed to care what Scott thought. That was before Scott left for college and never came back. Much like the day his Mom left for the store, and never returned. To Alex, approval from Scott was like approval from Mom.

'No, of course not. Why would I mind?"

"No reason. Hey, how's Jean?" Alex grinned as his older brother's eyes went gooey.

Scott was a twenty-four year old workaholic. He'd meet Jean Grey all over again when he started work on his Masters Degree in Political Science. They got in grand debates about the effects of politics on education, which was Jean's major.

"Fine, she fine."

"Yeah, I bet she is!" Remy's lanky frame appeared out of nowhere. The twenty year old pushed long brown hair out of his eyes.

"Ewww! Gross! Remy take those creepy contacts out this instant!" Rachel glared at her brother and his demonic red and black eyes, with her hands on her hips. He smirked at her and swept his hand over his face. When it moved, his eyes were brown again.

"Leave him alone Rach." Alex grabbed his little sister around the waist.

"Yeah. He's a musician." They all laughed at the way Scott said it. He hadn't lost his sense of humor, even in the fast pace of Columbia University.

His roommate, a Russian art student named Piotr Rasputin, always said he could be a real fun guy, if he would get a few beers in him. Pete Wisdom from down the hall practically lived in a bar. Both Petes suggested a little liquor might help him forget his worries.

Scott smiled at his brothers and sister as they talked in the moonlight on quiet bridge. His father was still at the dinner-party down the way but Scott had felt comfortable speaking with him for the first time in 12 years.

Even though there were scars on his heart, they made him feel whole.

He had all the needed to help him remember, without wanting to forget the mother he loved, the mother he had lost.


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