alexander-havok-summers:
Alexander considered the time he and his brother were locked away like prisoners within the Brotherhood. On the cusp of an entire decade, the two practically grew up fighting for their survival on a daily basis. Many thoughts by the thousands consumed every inch of his waking hours, whether he could have prevented the capture, whether he could have protected Scotty better or intentionally made himself out to be less interesting to subdue Camille’s growing obsession. Yet, he continued winning the fights, he earned his nickname, and it was all over from there. Hell…it was over the second the Summers boys stepped through the doors of that compound. Siblings were rare for the organization and to undoubtedly own two brothers fiercely co-dependent on each other had been deemed a weakness easily exposed.
“Camille!” His voice boomed, searching gaze darting between the many apartment complexes lining their neighborhood. Cami and her brother were quite similar in their tactics, slip away without detection and ambush once the opportunity arose. He learned quickly from the Brotherhood that you fought your opponent face-to-face and not metaphorically throwing away your shot or the consequences would be devastating, the loss of your own life execution-style by cowardice. “You don’t have your brother protecting you now, Cammy, it’s just you and me.” Alex turned in the direction of the empty warehouse on the end of the street behind him, wondering if that’s where his brother and Camille’s ended up just by feeling the vibrations from here, “Isn’t that what you wanted? Just us?” His attention shifted as Camille appeared from behind one of the complexes, the injury sustained from the previous blast through a house leaving a grotesque scarlet streak along her features.
“I would have given you everything, Alexander. I gave you everything.” Despite the superficial injuries, Camille garnered enough strength to travel the length of the street with the usual saunter she possessed from the moment they met. “Why do you constantly have to make me jump through hoops and prove to you I am the one you have always desired, pet? That your home will never be with anyone but me?” He absolutely detested the way she looked at him, like a piece of meat ready to devour or property she owned that she could use and abuse at her will. “Alex, you know that you had it all with us. Think about how fortunate you were, how spoiled.” Camille easily closed their distance, yards away, feet away, inches away until they practically met in the middle. It may have been true Alexander was offered certain luxuries the others did not obtain, that’s what happens when two of the highest among the Brotherhood’s ranks shared mutual interest, “You never realized we were meant to be together forever. My Alexander.”
Alex stood stoic, resilient, fuming at the seams watching the woman who destroyed his life enter his orbit with such casual carelessness. “No more games.” He growled as she reached out a hand, placing her palm along the left side of his chest and smirking as she felt the racing hum, “Show me the rage if you must, darling, but you know that your heart belongs to me.” Their gazes locked for an impregnated pause and Camille almost believed she had him hook line and sinker, “I’ve watched you slaughter only for you to come crawling between my sheets at the end of the night. Don’t forget I made you, Alexander. It doesn’t matter where you are, baby,” Alex wrapped his fingers around Cammy’s wrist and shoved away her arm as she continued, “You’re my monster.”
Alex hadn’t protested to the notion, he might have been a monster in many ways, and Camille knew this as she began slowly walking backwards, her voice adopting a melodic seductive tone that implemented the use of her ability, “Alexander, listen carefully, you are going to leave this humdrum hopeless fantasy of freedom behind. You will come with me, travel back to the Brotherhood, and we are picking up where we left off. My chamber of toys, fighting and fucking, and you are going to do so without the reward of your brother.” She could see how desperate he was resisting, his fists clenched at his sides and it was clear his mind fought a battle to keep his feet right where they were at, “You will erase any trace of emotion you have for Scott, you’ll feel nothing for him, and you’re going to thank me for that mercy. Do you know why, Alexander?” A pause, “You’re going to rip him apart. Decimate him until he no longer exists.” Jack’s fascination with the boy didn’t matter. She needed the twit gone.
The man focused his eyes elsewhere, imagining a wall as he always did when Camille displayed the persuasion as a method to resist every command. It was rare she used it on him when he fell powerless to her sexual appetite, but the ringing in Alexander’s ears reached a deafening pitch the minute Scott’s name dared touch her tongue. She dare demand he kill Scotty? His brother, his little brother, the sole reason he murdered dozens of his own kind, became the slave to a Winters’ every whim just to have two minutes alone with him, the one purpose for every protective measure. He committed many acts for Camille, because of Camille, but this? It was pouring gasoline on the simmering fire within his veins, lightning crashing, a moment of pure clarity. “No.” Alexander swiveled, sending the built up blast of energy hurdling towards the Winters woman, slamming her in the abdomen and sending her flying halfway down the street. He watched Camille land with a harsh thud along the concrete, although it would take more than that to kill her, before he stalked over in her direction.
“You want me to be the monster, don’t you?” Alex nearly screamed, watching as Camille made any attempt to rise to her feet before opting to crawl along the pavement, which only did to piss him off. Alexander’s wrath was uncontrollable, his temper fierce, and that was clearly evident by his lack of direction. “You did this!” Another long blast protruding from his torso, the beam slicing through several floors of the few apartment buildings lining the street. Shattered glass reached his ears, but the consequences of unleashing fury did not cross his thoughts. “You needed me to let go. Stop resisting. Get fucking angry, well, congratulations, you got it.” Finally reaching the woman’s crawling form, Alex grabbed the collar of Camille’s jacket and flipped her over, sending a loud groan from her lips followed by a purring chuckle, “This is dark for you, Alexander. I’d even find it hot.” He slammed her into the ground for a second time and growled harshly, “Shut up.” Camille chuckled again, “You and I both know you can’t kill me, Alex. You don’t have the balls for it.”
“Don’t I?” A calming expression suddenly masked his features, the wrath still remained, but the darkness he pretended never existed emerged fully formed. This is what he had to be for himself, for Scott. “No, Camille, I’m going to erase any trace I have of you. I’m going to rip you apart.” He quoted the woman’s own threats back to her with amusement dripping from his mouth, “But here’s the thing, Cami my love,” Alexander balled his fingers into a tight fist and placed it to Cami’s abdomen, “I’m not going to feel nothing decimating your existence. I’ll feel pure, unadulterated ecstasy.” The elder Summers man focused every drop of cosmic energy absorbed within him to his fist, sending a brilliant continuous blast through Camille’s body. She screamed, oh she screamed, but Alex did not stop until he knew she was absolutely dead.
Once the energy subsided and the wrath slowed to a simmer, he finally noticed the gruesome gaping hole burned into her flesh, finding his fist drenched in sticky liquid he realized too late was blood. Slowly rising to a standing position, Alexander glanced at the mangled remains of Camille. Fuck…Andi wouldn’t like this. This is what he wanted, right, it’s what he had to do. It was done, but it wasn’t over. Jack. Scott.
Scotty spit out the crimson liquid that had pooled in his mouth from every punch he took from Jack, shakily pushing himself back up to his feet. If Jack had cornered him when they had escaped from the Brotherhood, the beating would have worked; would have forced Scotty to succumb just to avoid the pain, but now? Knowing what it was like to be free for the first time in years.
They had stolen everything from them.
His childhood, his life. He could feel the anger building in his body like a white-hot poker as he stood, listening for Jack coming for him. “You used to hit harder,” Scott replied, the back of his hand wiping his mouth; holding back a wince at the bruise that was forming under the skin.
He listened for the small movement again, dodging in time to feel the air move as Jack’s fist swung just past Scott’s face. “Now you’re just pissing me off, Scotty,” Jack snarled as he lunged for the boy, tackling him down to the ground as Scott tried to avoid; pinning him by the throat. Jack had raised his fist as if to hit Scotty again, but hit faltered – the whispered name of his sister barely reaching Scott’s ears, but it was full of rage. Something that the boy hadn’t heard in a long time.
The fist connected with Scott’s face, his nose instantly gushing blood and then again before he could catch a breath. “I used to like the whole trope of brotherly love, but it’s gone too far,” Jack growled, “I’m going to beat you into submission and then I’m going to make you watch me rip your brother to shreds. That’s where the torment is going to begin for you—I tried to be nice.” Each statement emphasized by the impacts of Jack’s fist.
Scott screamed in defiance, opening his eyes finally; letting the concussive force hit Jack—using the leverage to push against the man’s diamond body. If there was one thing a person could never threaten a Summers boy with, is the death of the other brother. It would drive any of them into a blinding rage that could topple mountains. It was the twin’s own hubris that brought their own demise; thinking they could use the brothers against each other.
He kicked him back, guided by the anger that fueled him to jump on top of the man; dead set on defeating him. “You can’t break through, Scotty,” Jack all but laughed in Scott’s face, causing the boy to place both of his hands on the man’s throat—trying his hardest to keep him from talking.
The only thing he could hear was his own screaming as he let the fury take over, his optic blasts becoming more frenzied than he could control as he attempted to break through Jack’s diamond skin; fractals of his beams bouncing off of the surface and impacting all around him. He couldn’t pay any mind to the noises and explosions around him that came from his beams being bounced around, blocking out the sounds of screams or falling buildings—not for one second could he take his eyes away.
He didn’t care about the destruction, all he cared about was ending the man that laid beneath him. Scott’s hands never left Jack’s neck in the struggle, using all of his strength to keep him pinned as he let loose all of the power he had and more, tapping into the parts of him that he forced to keep hidden as the beams began to chip away at Jack’s diamond skin—shards of diamond falling away, sometimes with enough force to bounce back against Scott, but he kept going.
“Scott,” he could hear Jack pleading, and the sound only spurred him on. It was music to his fucking ears. The man that had abused and tortured him for years had the nerve to be pleading for respite.
“BEG,” Scott screamed at the man while he focused on the hole he was chipping away at the man’s chest, “I want you to beg.”
“Scott, please, stop,” Jack begged.
“No,” Scott said with a devilish smile.
It began to rain cement and debris from the building that they were in as it started to crumble from the force of Scott’s powers; the ground beneath their very bodies shaking from the force as Scott pushed past the last barrier he had put up to stop himself from going over the deep end with his powers.
This was needed, he rationalized. They needed to put an end to the twins, once and for all.
The lights reflecting off of Jack’s diamond skin was blinding until it finally zeroed in- breaking through the last layer. Scott saw red once more, realizing that it was no longer his beams reflecting off of Jack’s skin that he was seeing, but the crimson of Jack’s blood – Scotty had never seen him bleed before. Jack’s choking words reaching Scott’s ears too late to realize that he was stealing Jack’s last breath, but he couldn’t stop.
He let out an anguished scream as his powers ripped through him, finally free and no longer able to be controlled by simply closing his eyes. What has he done? He stood to his feet, his fingers fisting into his hair as he tried to control his powers, but they were past the point of the limited control he even had.
The blood rushing in his ears couldn’t drown out the noise of the building falling around him and the screams from passerby’s—the screams of those trapped in the buildings adjacent to his that he had brought down in the struggle. He looked towards the sky to attempt to tamper his powers, the last of the building’s foundation crumbling and the floors above him coming down in a deafening thunder.
Only the red beam of his optic blast was seen as it came down, a beacon of the crimes he had just committed in the night sky.
Everything that fell in the blast was vaporized as the debris began to build around him, encasing him like a tomb. The last of the walls collapsed, most of them collided with each other or the concussive blast of his beams, but there was too much debris. Scott could only feel the debris hit him like an overwhelming force, forcing him to the ground hard enough to rewire his brain to be able to close his eyes and shut off the relentless optic blast, but it was too late to move.
He didn’t dare open his eyes again, but he could tell he was encapsulated by the building, feeling water from some plumbing pouring over him as he struggled to maintain his breathing. Scotty desperately tried to feel for a way out but the more pieces of the building he pushed to the side, the more that fell to take its place; he no longer knew what was up or down—it was just him in the space he was meant to be.
Alone.
He needed help, both he and Alex needed help. He could only think of Bruce promising to be there for them through anything if they had ever needed him, and it was the first time Scott had thought to use his number, but he felt for the phone that was in his pocket. It was broken but there was still a dial tone as Scott pressed the speed dial that he had for the scientist.
It rang and rang until it reached the man’s voicemail.
Scott let out a sob as the debris continued to crush around him.
“Bruce—pick up, please,” Scott gave pained cry, “they came—we need help, we didn’t mean to.”
His pleads were met with the beeping of his phone dying—he didn’t even know if his message made it through. All he could think of was the fact that he was going to die if he didn’t try to make it out; he didn’t even know if Alex was okay.
He began to push the debris again, his breathing ragged as he attempted to maintain control. Alex’s name fell from Scott’s lips as he pleaded for his brother to appear, finally pushing a hand through to the surface. He could feel the cool air meeting his busted knuckles, using the last bit of his energy to scream his brother’s name.