Scott walked down the hallway toward Charles Xavier's office, feeling the weight of the choices ahead pressing down on him. He replayed recent events in his mind—the relentless clashes, close calls, and, most of all, the confrontation with Logan. The bitterness in his brother's angry words echoed in his thoughts too, accusing him of keeping him out of the fight. But Scott reminded himself: every choice had been driven by his need to protect those he cared about, even if that desire sometimes seemed like a cage holding him back.
Arriving at Charles's office, he took a moment to steel himself. The path Charles was offering him was clear—a chance to lead, to have a purpose he couldn't find elsewhere—but Scott was far from certain it was the right one for him. Even if his mind acknowledged the potential of such a role, a part of him still balked at the responsibility.
He knocked, hesitating for a heartbeat.
"Come in, Scott," Charles's voice called from within.
Scott stepped inside to find both Charles and Amelia waiting for him, seated across from each other, their postures welcoming yet serious. Charles gestured to the empty chair between them. As Scott sat, he could feel the intensity of their attention, their expectation mingling with something else—an understanding, a support that he hadn't felt in a long time.
It struck him how their perspectives varied so vastly from his own: Charles's wise patience, Amelia's quiet but unwavering concern, and his own fierce drive for autonomy and action. Charles was offering him a leadership position, a purpose, but Scott's feelings toward the X-Men were tangled, complicated by memories and emotions that weren't fully his own. The events Cyclops had gone through—the brotherhood, the friendships, the sacrifices—lingered like shadows he couldn't escape.
As he sat down, Charles broke the silence, his voice as warm as it was serious. "Thank you for joining us, Scott. As we discussed before, you've shown a remarkable instinct for leadership, a strength of purpose that many strive to attain. However, I understand you may still feel torn about this path."
Scott nodded, feeling the knot of uncertainty tighten in his chest. "It's… a lot to take in. I want to make a difference, Professor, but I've been doing things my way. Out there, in the field, I can act without waiting for approval, without… second-guessing. Here at the mansion, I feel like there's always going to be a barrier—a voice holding me back from doing what I think needs to be done."
As Charles listened, Scott could see genuine concern in his mentor's gaze. The professor's steady patience was comforting, but it also reminded Scott of the expectations that came with the X-Men—expectations that, at times, felt overwhelming. Part of him was uncertain whether it was truly his desire to lead or if that was only the influence of Cyclops's memories, urging him toward a path he didn't feel ready to follow.
Charles's voice drew him back. "It's natural to feel that way, especially after everything you've been through. But, Scott, you won't lose the autonomy you're seeking if you stay here. I want you to lead, to make decisions as you see fit. This isn't about restricting you; it's about preparing you for the responsibilities you'll carry—knowing that whatever you decide, there will be consequences, not just for you, but for all of us."
Scott looked down, taking in the weight of Charles's words. He knew what the X-Men represented, the legacy they upheld. But he could feel a hesitance clinging to him, a fear of the responsibility they were asking him to take on. Cyclops had been forged by his experiences with the X-Men, molded by the bonds and the traumas that had marked his life. And now, with those memories crowding his mind, Scott struggled to separate what he wanted from what Cyclops would do.
He glanced back up at Charles. "I appreciate that, Charles, but I don't want to be tied down to a role that means I have to balance everyone else's ideals with mine. I need to know that I'm doing what I think is right, not what others think is best for me."
Charles's gaze was unwavering, filled with a gentle understanding. "What I'm offering isn't about controlling your actions, Scott. On the field, you will have full autonomy, free to make the calls you deem necessary. Where we can balance each other is in handling the fallout of those decisions—learning how to prepare for what comes next, together."
Scott nodded, though uncertainty lingered. His memories—a strange blend of his own and Cyclops's—were already full of consequences and losses that weighed heavily on him. He thought back to the fleeting connections Cyclops had forged, the friendships that had ended, the sacrifices he'd made. Part of him ached for those bonds, for the closeness of a team, but another part recoiled, afraid that stepping into that role would drown him in responsibilities he wasn't prepared to face.
As if sensing his hesitation, Amelia leaned forward, her eyes filled with concern. "Scott, I know the independence you want, and it's admirable. But in a world like ours, even the most decisive leaders benefit from guidance, from sharing the weight. Autonomy doesn't mean you have to shoulder everything alone."
Scott looked at her, gratitude flickering in his gaze, though his chest still felt tight. He'd confided in her before about his struggles, his worries that he was failing to live up to the standard Cyclops had set. But the thought of staying, of grounding himself here, was difficult. "Maybe. But the only reason I'm even considering staying here is to train under Logan. The minute I can prove I can beat him, the minute I know I'm ready to face Sabretooth—I'm gone. I need to follow my own path, and right now, it's not here."
Charles's expression softened, his voice filled with quiet care. "Scott, I understand your goal, and I respect it. But there's a future for you here that goes beyond simply preparing for a fight. If you choose to lead the X-Men, you'll have the freedom to set your own course, to shape missions and tactics as you see fit."
Scott sat back, Charles's words settling over him like a mantle. This was more than just the chance to lead. Charles was extending a trust, a mentorship that went deeper than simply being teammates. The idea of having autonomy in the field gave him a taste of what he wanted, but he still felt conflicted. Cyclops's memories reminded him of the losses, the fractured connections, yet there was also a pull, a desire to be part of something meaningful, to experience the closeness Cyclops had shared with his team.
Amelia placed a gentle hand on his arm, her expression filled with a mixture of sadness and strength. "Scott, this isn't just about defeating Logan or preparing for Sabretooth. You have a unique gift—not just in your abilities, but in how you lead. This team, these people—they need you. They need someone willing to push boundaries but who understands responsibility. If you leave now, you're taking that from them."
Scott looked away, her words resonating deeply. He'd watched the memories Cyclops carried with him, the victories and the sacrifices, and he feared stepping into that role himself. The weight of those memories already felt heavy, and he wasn't sure if he could handle the added responsibility. But part of him yearned for the trust, the friendship, the bonds Cyclops had formed, even as he feared what it would cost him.
After a long pause, he spoke, his voice low but determined. "I'll stay," he said quietly. "But only until I can prove myself. Whether that's tomorrow, a week, or a month from now—when I know I'm ready to face Sabretooth, I'm leaving. And that's non-negotiable."
Charles nodded, his expression one of quiet understanding. "Then we'll prepare you to the best of our ability. Whatever path you choose, Scott, know that you'll have my support."
Amelia offered a small, bittersweet smile, her sadness clear as she realized that his commitment was temporary. But she respected his choice, standing by him even as she worried for the toll it would take.
In the silence that followed, Scott felt a flicker of peace amidst his turmoil. Charles's mentorship and Amelia's steadfast care surrounded him, anchoring him in the present even as he prepared himself for whatever lay ahead. For now, that would be enough.