The human body always had limits.
It didn't matter how much one trained their bodies, or how hard they pushed themselves, eventually, they would reach that wall they could not surpass. They could have come across all sorts of obstacles that had stood in their path and overcome each one of them. No matter how hard or high they were, they had overcome those challenges and soared to new heights.
It was what made humanity such a dominant species.
It was why they had stood at the top of the food chain for so long.
They continually strove to surpass their limits until eventually, they could not go any higher.
That was until mutants came around.
They were humanity's next step in evolution, the result of humanity overcoming that last hurdle that stood in their way and once more, soared to even higher heights. But naturally, even mutants had their limits.
Scott had known that better than most, all thanks to the memories of Cyclops, an older and more battle-hardened version of himself. His Optic Blasts were powerful abilities, often equated to nukes in his head by long-time friend and rival, Wolverine. But that was all his mutant ability was, everything else was something he had worked hard to achieve, just like an ordinary human.
His combat skills and situational awareness, all something he gained through hard work and dedication. His understanding of trigonometry and aim, something he gained through constant training and an unwillingness to quit. His tactical and strategical know-how, all things gained from decades of constant battles and defeats. Cyclops had not become the man he was instantly, no, Cyclops had worked hard, consistently pushing himself harder and harder, constantly working upon improving his weaknesses until he became a more well-rounded fighter and leader.
It was that dedication and determination, that willingness to work hard and learn from his mistakes that had allowed Cyclops to survive where everyone else had perished. Even though that to many it would be a curse rather than a blessing, Scott had come to know that even in defeat, lay victory.
Cyclops had died so that he could live.
Cyclops had failed so that he could succeed.
Cyclops sacrificed everything so that he might finally achieve the dream that he had strived toward.
But Scott realised at that moment that what he thought would be his greatest asset did not come without its drawbacks. He may possess the powers and instincts that Cyclops had been born with and honed over decades of constant battle and warfare, but he did not possess his mental or physical fortitude. Scott's breathing was erratic, his heart pounding irregularly and his mind jumping from one thing to the next.
The high-stress environment he was in was overwhelming Scott and the only thing that kept him going was his brother and the instincts that controlled his actions. But even then, he also did not possess Cyclops' mental or physical endurance.
He was tired.
His lungs burned with every laboured breath.
His legs screamed with every step he took.
All the while his eyes were growing heavy, Scott struggling to fight against the exhaustion gripping his body. His mind was working overtime, taking note of every street for future reference, creating an internal map of the city as he and Alex ran from the police. Every movement was logged instantly, wary that it may prove to be the undoing of their escape.
Scott was pushing himself beyond his limits and he was flagging. His mind and body were working above and beyond what it was used to and prepared for. Now they were failing on him, Scott in worse shape than Alex as they rounded another corner onto a small alleyway.
The police sirens that filled the small town weighed heavily upon him, thundering in his ears. Even now, after two hours of fighting and running, the police were still hot on their tails. Scott on the other hand was struggling to keep going, struggling to keep fighting as he had done. But he knew deep down, that if he didn't keep pushing forwards, that tiny ray of hope, of escape that shined down before him, would grow smaller and move further away until it was gone.
He possessed Cyclops' instincts, but not everything else that he had trained.
Scott had rested on his laurels, believing in those instincts and memories to guide him perfectly. However, there was one problem with that; himself. He was not strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough to use them to their utmost potential. In order to be better, Scott had to train himself, to hone his skills and his body into a fine-tuned machine. Above all else, he had to train his mind into his greatest weapon, just like Cyclops had.
That was the only way to make sure he did not make a mistake like this again.
Yet, despite realising this error, Scott was helpless to change it at this point in time.
He saw it first, but he was unable to do anything about it.
The large, rotund figure of the police officer, was sweating and flushed in the cheeks. No doubt this was the most exercise the man had done in some time, but he charged forwards all the same. Scott turned, having seen the man rushing them from the corner of his eye, but just as his eyes glowed, preparing to fire his Optic Blasts and throw the police officer back, he was tackled to the ground.
The beams of energy cut through the building behind him, firing upwards as Scott and Alex were tackled to the ground, the beams blasting through stone and glass as the top half o the building was cut in half vertically. Scott tried resisting, a few more Optic Blasts firing into the air, but the grip upon his cheek by the fat man was crushing, the pain of his fingers digging into his jaw like an iron vice making it feel like his jaw was on the verge of snapping. Yet Scott let out no cry of pain, just glaring rebelliously up into the air, the pain of the experiments Mr Milbury conducted on him far worse than the pain he felt now.
Even then, Scott had never let an ounce of that pain show or be vocalised, always bottling up deep inside of him, depriving Mr Milbury of any ounce of possible pleasure he could get from causing him pain. He would give the officer the same treatment, just forcing down the pain and overwhelming his own senses with rage and anger.
This was nothing in comparison to what he had been through before and Scott continued to resist.
Even though his movements were sluggish, body heavy like lead, Scott forced his body to resist. He did not fire Optic Blasts, which was pointless with no clear target to fire at, but he was prepared to do so at a moment's notice. The moment an opportunity presented itself, Scott would pounce upon it.
But he panicked when Alex was dragged away by another police officer, more and more cars arrived to see the situation being wrapped up. The people of the town, coming out of the holes they'd been hiding in to cheer the police on, shouts of "Mutant scum!" and "Freak!" clearly heard over the roar of the crowd. Yet Scott resisted more heavily and ferociously, trying to dislodge and unbalance the officer holding him down as Alex was taken away from him.
That moment when their hands were ripped apart, that had been a moment Scott would not forget ever again. He could still feel the pain of Alex's nails digging into the palm of his hand, tearing the skin and drawing blood as he resisted being taken away.
Scott would never forget this moment.
They were separating them.
They'd find out that Alex had run away from home and no doubt, the Blandings had spun the tale that he had kidnapped Alex. His brother would be taken back to them, forced to live a life pretending to be something he was not and there was nothing he could do to stop them, eyes flickering around to try and see if there was anything he could use to his advantage.
But the officer had the common sense to keep his head pinned and face pointing to the sky. He could see things out of the corner of his eyes that could be used to his advantage, but he could not turn his head towards them.
Scott refused to let Alex be taken from him, but he was too tired to keep fighting.
He had reached a limit.
Just as Cyclops had time and time again.
His powers were destructive and powerful, but they were limited in so many ways. Cyclops had been the epitome of a glass cannon and had been forced to face the harsh reality that he could never succeed alone time and time again. It was something Scott realised at that moment, listening to Alex over the sound of the crowd, resisting and fighting against the officers as he was taken away to the car.
He ignored the sounds of the officers talking, just focusing on the sound of Alex's voice, focusing in upon it, the entire world around him going silent. The weight upon his shoulders grew heavier as he realised that alone he could nothing to help him. There had been a reason Cyclops had always built a team to lead and that was to make up for his own weaknesses.
Perhaps in the beginning it had been because he wanted to build a new family to love and cherish. But as he grew older, more jaded and pragmatic, Cyclops built a team that could be used to help him come one step closer to his goal.
Scott knew then that he would have to do the same.
If he was to protect Alex, he needed a team, even if he didn't trust them and they didn't trust him, Scott needed someone else to cover for his weaknesses.
He refused to fail a second time.
'I'll find you, Alex.' Scott swore internally, unable to speak the words thanks to the grip upon his jaw. 'No matter how long it takes, I'll come to get you again. Just wait for me.' The resistance in his body began to ebb away, Scott going still as he closed his eyes, ready to be taken to prison and bide his time once more.
This would not be the end of his story nor the end of his journey, but for now, he needed to rest and rethink his options.
Except, at that moment, everything changed.
An explosion erupted outwards, everyone going silent and Scott's eyes shooting open as he looked, the grip upon his cheek coming loose due to the shock. For there, the car that Alex had been forced into was destroyed, flames crackling to life as Alex stepped out and glared at everything in sight.
"Let my brother go!" Alex roared, thrusting his arms forwards and two beams of energy fired out, striking against the officer pinning him to the ground. The shock was still present as Scott looked upon Alex, the weight upon his chest suddenly disappearing not even registering in his mind, yet the instincts took hold once more, forcing his tired body to move as his Optic Blasts fired out rapidly.
In a single moment, Scott marked where every officer stood, their positions and the surroundings that could be used to his advantage. Then he fired, beams of energy lancing out, bouncing off walls and the bodies of cars, the officers dropping rapidly.
All the while, Scott rushed towards Alex tripping and stumbling over nothing as he moved to stand protectively in front of his brother as they stared out at the shocked townspeople. He did not know how Alex's powers had awakened or why now, but Scott did not care at this moment, they were safe and he was ready to fight once more. Even if his body gave out, Scott would not move from this position, he would not let him or Alex get separated, no matter the cost.
Alex was the only family he had left and Scott would not abandon his family.
Not like Cyclops had.
He would not live a life of regrets.
He refused to do so.
Scott would start by doing what Cyclops wished he had done from the beginning; being there for Alex.