Wrapping the towel around his neck, Scott took a deep breath as he looked up to the entrance of the mansion, a light sheen of sweat coating his body. He then turned, looking out over the many acres that surrounded the mansion, a peaceful air permeating throughout as birds chirped and a light breeze rustled the trees.
It was calm and peaceful.
Yet before his thoughts could devolve into anything deeper, as they had a tendency to do so, the door opened. "Do you often run like that?" Hank wondered, coming out onto the steps, sitting down and soaking in the sun.
Scott nodded his head, looking back. "I do." He replied, moving to sit down a little further down on the steps, the two boys once again gazing upon the picturesque scenery before them. "Why?"
"It looked like you were running from something."
"My mind, most likely." Scott answered humourlessly.
"Does it scare you?"
"At times." He tapped his head. "There's a lot of things that go on up here. A lot of thoughts and ideas, many of which I know should never see the light of day."
Hank rose a brow, his curiosity growing. "Like what?"
"Like destroying the established order of the world and rebuilding a new one that does not prosecute Mutants." Scott answered, his tone gradually becoming more serious, shifting from the light humourful one he began with. "A preemptive strike so devastating, so destructive and so damaging that it leaves a mark upon the human psyche that they will never forget."
There was a pause.
A long one.
Neither said anything as they let those words sink in, but whereas Hank was more than a little shocked and horrified by those words. Scott on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, a small part of his mind considering that a valid move for the future.
"...I can see why you run the way you do." Hank eventually said, once more breaking Scott from his thoughts. "But can I ask, do you really believe that such a move is necessary for the future? Humans, they're not all bad, there were plenty of people in Dunfee that loved me, more so than those that despised me anyway. Is it not possible that this Mutant hatred is just a temporary wave that will come and go?"
"Unlikely." Scott did not doubt for a second that Mutant hate would continue to spread like a disease until eventually, they were in the exact same position as they were in Cyclops' world.
However, Scott had no intention of letting that happen in this world.
"Mutant hate is spreading and whereas originally it had been a small, but loud minority. That minority is growing in number and it is only a matter of time until a Mutant uses their powers for their own means." Scott answered. "One need look no further than what happened in New York and the attack on Oscorp."
"What you did, you mean." Hank cut in, not judging him or accusing him, but making it clear that he knew. It hadn't been that difficult to figure out either, just a few dots needed to be connected, a trail of clues that had been easy to fit together to form a complete picture.
"Yes." But Scott was not surprised that Hank knew, he knew better than the man himself as to how intelligent Hank was. "One need look no further than that incident to see what effects that has had upon the public opinion of Mutants. Incidents like that will keep happening, one after another as Mutant powers are developed in those with unsavoury goals and vices leading to mass panic and fear."
"And when that happens, the number of outspoken people against Mutants will grow until it will be impossible to coexist." Hank correctly summarised what would happen in the future and Scott nodded his head.
He leaned back, resting his arms against the cold stone as he looked up to the sky. "When that happens, fighting will be our only option. It will be a war with our survival on the line and if we are not prepared, it will be a war we will not win." Scott's response left Hank without a reply. "But that does not mean we have to let it get to that point."
"The X-Men?"
Scott smiled. "I see the Professor has already asked you."
"After my parents left."
"Not surprised." Scott said, looking to Hank over his shoulder. "And what was your answer?"
Hank went silent, hands clasped together and head bowing low, which was all the answer Scott needed, but he waited. "...I couldn't say yes." He eventually answered, Scott nodded his head. "But I couldn't disagree with the idea either."
"Then there's something holding you back."
Hank nodded. "The X-Men, the idea of fighting to prove that Mutants could be a force of good, is a great one. As you said, with Mutants eventually using their powers for their own personal means, a force of Mutants that stops them and proves not all are bad, just as not all humans are bad is indeed, what the world needs to see."
"But?" Scott pressed.
Hank's hands shook. "I-I, I don't think I could fight as you do." His answer was by no means surprising. "What I did to Conquistador...I-I can still see my hands covered in his blood and what I did to him."
'A natural thing, being afraid of your own powers.' Scott thought to himself, frowning lightly. "You don't have to fight like me, but Hank, can you really stand by and do nothing? If a Mutant child was being attacked by those that held an irrational hatred and fear of him, could you stand by and do nothing?"
"That's different."
"Is it?" Scott questioned. "Or is it the natural order of things? Think back to what we said before and tell me, could you really watch as the world turns against Mutants and not do something?"
Scott rose to his feet, moving up the stairs and pausing by Hank who had remained sat down.
"The X-Men are fighting for Mutant rights, to show that not all are bad," Scott told him. "But if we have to, we will fight to send a message. That may not be something you can do Hank, but that is no reason to not do anything. Do as much as you feel comfortable and what you feel is right. Good and evil, right and wrong, that's a matter of perspective, so do what you feel is necessary and nothing more or less."
"Fear is a natural thing to feel, especially being a Mutant with strange and dangerous powers." Scott continued. "But that is no reason to simply stand and watch the world turn against those of us who are innocent. Nor to watch those abuse their power for their own means. Fear can be conquered, so conquer yours, that is the only way to survive in this world."
-X-
He didn't like this one bit.
This was meant to be temporary, a quick escape from Canada after things had gotten heated with his old teammates. A reason to leave it all behind and start anew somewhere else, but a new start alone and not with another group.
Yet, Logan owed Charles.
It was strange to owe a man like Charles anything, but Logan found himself owing strange people favours, none more so than Charles. Now those favours were being cashed in and Logan despite being many things, was not one to ignore a favour.
Charles had been a friend in need when he didn't realise he needed one, back when he had been lost and alone without any idea of who he was. As always, memory loss was common throughout his life and Charles happened to find him in that time of need, guiding him and aiding him.
Though it didn't mean Logan had to like what he was been asked to do. The X-Men was something he had been aware of many years ago, it had been something Charles had talked about constantly, trying to recruit him as the first member of his Mutant team. He had refused, but Charles had never given up on it and now he seemed to have found the first members of his team.
There was the rich and young, Warren Worthington III, a Mutant who he had left to speak with earlier today. One whose powers were simply wings, a prideful and no doubt arrogant young man thanks to his upbringing.
Then there was Hank McCoy, an unsure prospect and one frightened by his own powers and what he could do with them. One who was still debating whether to join the X-Men and one Logan doubted would last very long in a world as harsh as this.
Then finally, the young man following him down towards the basement of the Xavier mansion, Scott Summers. A strange and dangerous young man made the hairs on the back of Logan's neck stand on edge. He was hostile towards him, untrusting and suspicious of him, all something he could feel from the boy's gaze that burrowed into his back.
It was Scott who made Logan dislike the favour the most.
He was a boy who didn't make sense, one who had captured Sabretooth's attention. A boy who had experience far beyond his years and ambitions that Logan doubted Charles fully understood.
Scott was a wildcard and one that from recent events, could not be controlled or predicted. He moved according to his own goals and ambitions, everyone else be damned.
In some ways, they were similar and that made Logan hate this even more.
Yet, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
"Through here." Logan said gruffly, the two entered into the elevator that appeared from the side of the wall.
"Where are we going?" Scott asked, the two standing side to side as the elevator moved deeper.
"Someplace to train." Charles had asked him to be a part of the team, to lead it in fact, but Logan had just left a team not so long ago and done so thanks to certain circumstances that he'd rather not remember. Joining another team, especially with three young children was not something he wanted, especially considering the responsibility that would be on his shoulders.
However, he had been roped into becoming their trainer, responsible now to give them all the necessary hand-to-hand and combat experience they would need to survive.
None more so than Scott.
Victor was after his head and Logan was not about to leave him without the necessary skills to survive. He may not like the kid, but he didn't hate him either. Above all else, Logan wasn't about to let a kid like him die at the hands of Sabretooth.
He was many things.
But he was not that type of person.