Title: Confinement
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: Gen
Length: ~400
Content notes: Trying to figure out character backstory...
Author notes: Secondary character POV
Thanks to professorofeljay for the quick beta help.
We’ll count this towards the following badges: beta boss and governor of gendom
Summary: There was a moment that defined the rest of his life. The one day when he knew he could count on only himself. It was better that way.


The first time he set a room on fire he was ten, alone in his foster parents’ home while they were taking Scotty off to a doctor’s appointment. He had no clue how it started, but one minute he was sitting in the living room with a book and the next minute the book’s pages were burning in front of him. His chest had glowed just before he watched as the book went up. He would have complained to someone, but he was sure no one would believe him.

He ran from the building as the flames caused the windows to shatter, afraid for his life. He had no idea of their reactions, but he knew it would not be good. He would have been whipped for destroying the house, for sure. He would have been kicked out. He would have been sent to the police.

He could not stay with them--sure that they would send him back to Child Protective Services--he could not stay with anyone now.

But he had a choice. He could do something. He could go somewhere. Just not with anyone.

Alone. That’s what he was now. At least now if he wanted to keep himself from causing another fire.

He spent years that way. Wandering from town to town, looking for odd jobs--mostly as a farmhand. But then he got so angry at one farmer, the one who said he had not worked as many hours as he had, and soon the crops were gone within a twenty foot radius.

-

That day--the one with the crops--landed him in jail. He knew that it would come one day, he could not be so lucky to avoid his temper and his “gift” not acting up.

But jail presented new problems. No one seemed to think that a guy who had burned a field should not have a bunkmate, though after the third time that his anger had set off red sparks from his chest, he found himself in solitary.

No one to argue with; no one to fight with; no one to talk to. It made sense.

He liked it.

No one visited and he liked it that way.

At least until the day when a guard said that two guys were looking for him.

They talked to him about learning how to harness his power. They promised he could be safe. They said there were others.

He wasn’t going to be alone anymore.