A/N:

So, I love "The Gifted" and I really needed to write a fanfiction about it. Since I am going to use a character who first showed up in X-men First Class: Alex Summers, I am warning that time lines and years don't matter here. I don't intend to figure out in what year does the show take place or how old Alex would be at that time, because he would be very old. For all the Eclaris fans... this is definitely not for you. So, no hate, you are warned. The story takes place after episode 10 of "The Gifted" So, enjoy!


Alex Summers was many things. A soldier, a leader, an X-man, but it didn't matter anymore. His friends and family were gone and he was alone in a dark world. His little brother was gone too and it was his fault. He couldn't protect him, couldn't help him. It was his responsibility and he had failed once more, like so many years ago in a plane crash that Alex believed Scott had died in along with his parents.

"Take your brother's hand. You have to help him open his parachute and then open your own. Take care of him, take care of each other. We love you both so much"

He opened his eyes looking out of the window of the bus. The memory of the burning plane, his mother's face right before it blew up, Scott flying next to him. The burning parachute. It was so fresh in his mind and it happened so many years ago. Alex wanted to scream every time he thought about it.

Three years had passed and the situation hasn't changed, quite the opposite in fact. It has gotten worse. Scott had died without seeing their dream achieved. Actually most of the X-men had died that way. Legends often died without witnessing their goal reached. It wasn't fair, but life rarely was. Alex had found Scott one time and it had been a miracle. Now he lost his little brother again and Alex had lost a second chance. The universe never gives a third one. So many names flew in his head. Charles, Hank, Sean, Jean, Ororo and so much more. They were all gone or he knew that much. There was still hope that they might be alive.

Alex wanted to laugh. Charles really had gotten under his skin with his constant talk about hope and a better future. He wasn't going to doubt his mentor's lessons right now though, even if darker thoughts had crossed his mind on some occasions. Only the hope was keeping him from snapping. He was aware that he was screwed up for three years now. Time didn't heal all wounds, it just helped numb the pain, bury it, but it was always there like a hellish reminder.

His whole life Alex fought for the better future that Charles had talked about. The dream of peaceful coexistence was never accomplished and the feeling was crushing him. The Mutant Underground was his last chance to fight for his kind. Maybe even see Charles's dream come true, if indeed his mentor was dead, Alex could at least continue his legacy. He owned him that much after all he had done for him.

Moving from place to place was awfully hard, but Alex was used to it by now. He traveled light with a small bad with only a couple of stuff he could take. Hiding his mutation wasn't that hard either. Yes, they were days when he had just wanted to send a blast at some asshole, but he had always restrained himself in time.

After the 7/15 everything had gone to hell. He hadn't seen all of the bodies of his friends. Alex hadn't been even sure whose body he saw. It had been just too damn confusing. Gun shots and raging powers everywhere. He had been sure for one thing. One body that he had seen, one person that he had been sure was gone, one ghost that would chase him for the rest of his life: Scott. A Purifier had shot him right through the brain. His brother didn't even see where it had come from. A part of Alex's soul had flickered away that day, a big part that he couldn't take back anymore. Something dark took its place. Havok had almost killed that Purifier. He couldn't stop himself, the rage and pain overwhelming him. Memories of his time with his little brother flew through his mind and he didn't even know what doing, but a presence in his head stopped him.

"Scott wouldn't have want that. This isn't you"

"No, he wouldn't, but I do.

Jean didn't let him do it, her telepathy too strong to resist. Alex had told her to let him go, but she had refused. He had been both grateful to Jean and hated that she had stopped him. He had just wanted to kill that monster, but with a part of himself he knew she was right. Jean had reminded him of who he was that moment, when he felt only pure rage flow thought his blood. Scott wouldn't have wanted that. His little brother who had looked up to him. He wasn't going to fail him, to fail anyone of the lost X-men, or Charles. On the other hand, he had wished Jean had let him do it.

Alex had killed before. Yes, there was no other choice, but to do it for the sake of his teammate. He had talked to Charles about it, told him that he would do it again to save his friends and to get back to Scott. Even if that made him a monster.

Still there was part of him that was on the edge to just give up, wanting to die too, like the others. He felt weak and ashamed. There was also another part, that was dark and violent the part that wanted to kill that Purifier. It took him everything to keep his mind together, to continue, to find the Mutant Underground and help them. 7/15 was a day he would always remember. Not just because of the people he had lost, but also because of the scars on his face, that would always remind him of his failure. How can you forget the day that took away everything from you? Simple answer for a simple question. You can't. It will hunt you, wake you up in the middle of the night, trying to break you until you give in.

The bus stopped and he got out carrying his bag over his shoulder. He pulled the scrubby paper out of his pocket. Now he only needed to contact them.