The Boy With The Red Sunglasses

Evelyn James is just an average teenage girl - clever, relatively popular, friendly. But after the unbelievable events of her prom night, she manages to fall into more and more trouble, and there is only one person who understands - the boy with the red sunglasses. *Basically, an X-Men fanfic set in present day, explaining Scott's first experiences with his mutation and the X-Men. I've been told it makes total sense even if you don't know anything about X-Men! So, please check it out. :)*


69. The Dream

"Evelyn." A figure breaks through the darkness, but I cannot see its face. The way the male voice says my name it's like a command.
"Who are you?" My voice is quiet, I try everything to mask my fear and apprehension but, for some reason, nothing keeps the telling tone from my voice.
"Evelyn." The figure says stepping closer, allowing me a glimpse of blonde hair.
"John?" My voice is calmer now.
"Evelyn." I hear my name sound more panicked now.
"What's happe-"
"Evelyn!" Now it's a loud beg that cuts off my sentence.
"John, stop!" I say strongly.
"Evelyn!" His pleas get louder each time. I feel him all around me, my name echoing from every angle. It's suffocating.
"Stop!" I shout.
"Evelyn!" It's deafening now. No! Go away!

"Argh!" My scream wakes me from my dream. I sigh. Dream. That's all it was. I'm sweating so much, that Scott's shirt I wear is damp all over. I am sat bolt upright, with the duvet bunched up around my waist.
"What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?" Scott, who is now sat up beside me, takes my shoulders and directs me to face him; I can see in his expression that I have panicked him. He turns back quickly and switches on his bedside lamp. "You've been crying!"
I touch my face with my shaking fingers - my cheek is wet. I only now notice the catch in my throat as I breathe.
"N-Nothing." I stutter. "Just a bad dream."
"Evelyn, please? What are you hiding?" I shudder at the sound of my voice.
"Nothing." I repeat, stronger now. He strokes his fingers through my hair and leans forwards.
"You know you can tell me anything." He whispers. I nod.
"Just a dream." I smile.
"Evelyn." He says my name in a warning tone. I resent the way he can see through me so well at the most irritating points. Like now.
"It was just a-"
"Sure, 'just a dream'." He cuts me off. "Maybe it was. But you can't deny that you've been distant since your meet up with that Pyro guy. What did he do to you that day?"
"Are you forgetting that that was the same day I almost killed Warren? It's only logical I've changed after that." I feel that this is a pretty strong argument, but of course, Scott finds a way around it.
"No." He states strongly. "If it was about Warren, you would've shown signs. You would've acted differently at the mere mention of his name. But you don't, not for Warren at least, but this Pyro, you're edgy every time he's brought up. So I'll ask again, what did he do?"
"Nothing. He didn't do anything!" I feel my defensive personality bursting out, but why? What reason do I have to protect this mutant? Especially against my own boyfriend.
"Why are you acting like this?!" He hisses. We try to keep are charged conversation relatively hushed to avoid waking the others.
"Like what, Scott?" I pull back from him slightly.
"Like you're not one of us... Like you don't want to be one of us." The hurt is noticeable in his tone.
"I'm not one of you completely!"
"No, but you fight with us. You fight for our cause. Why do I get the feeling you are straying from that cause now?" He fiddles with his glasses repeatedly. Possibly an angry habit?
"I don't fight for any cause. I fight for-" I stop, the realization of my words hitting me, and my voice dropping to a whisper. "I fight for you."
"I don't fight for the X-Men. I don't fight to show that not all mutants are goddamn terrorists. I don't fight for mutant equality." I sigh. "I fight for you. I have no idea what I should believe in here, I'm lost. But you do, and I trust you. Hell, I owe you my life. So, I decided that I should fight with you, whatever you choose."
"No buts." I cut him off. "I love you, and that's worth fighting for more than any dream of equality."
"Then, there's one question I need to ask." His voice is low and he looks down at the bed.
"Anything." I whisper, placing my hand on his cheek and rubbing my thumb lovingly across his cheek.
"Why do you say his name?" Well, that was random. What is he talking about?
"Scott, I have no idea-"
"I hear you. Nearly every night you talk in your sleep. Most of it is unintelligible mumbles, but there's always one word that is clear as day - one word every single time. His name."
"Who? What's going-"

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