"...it [is] no longer a matter of opening others to reason, but of opening ourselves to the reason of others."
--Alain Finkielkraut, The Defeat of the Mind
August, six years earlier
Scott took a few minutes to observe from the garage door as Logan ran Jubilee through her review before her shop final. Why on earth she'd chosen the class was probably traceable back to Logan, who, after one single driving lesson, had flatly refused to let her behind the wheel of a car again until she understood the principle behind the concept of an internal-combustion engine and the basics of car repair. Having seen the wrecker that brought the unfortunate car into the driveway, Scott hadn't demurred, either--if she was going to drive like that, she'd better know how to fix any vehicle she drove. God knew, she'd need it.
He hid a smile when Jubilee stuck out her tongue and Logan applied his foot to the board, spinning her back under the car and leaning over the engine again.
"Wolvie, I don't see--"
"Any way you could *stop* calling me Wolvie?"
Scott knew Jubilee's face was wearing a smug grin. She knew her feral mutant pretty well.
"Nope, hombre. And I--"
"Get to it. You and Kit want dinner out tonight, you're gonna finish this right." Logan was leaning against the car and Scott *could* see the smile on Logan's face. Sometimes, Scott thought the only reason Logan was still around was because of Jubilee and Co--and Scott admitted to himself, at least, that it was good for the kids to have what amounted to a father stalking campus. He didn't scare them at all--but they did have a healthy respect for his temper and his common sense, and knew they couldn't get away with much around him. Certainly not when he could smell out contraband and usually figure out where they'd been after curfew by scent alone.
"You want something, Cyke?"
Scott didn't even bother to bristle--in Loganesque, the term could almost be an endearment.
"Just wanted to talk, when you have time." He'd put it off for two days, wanting the kids to have a little more grace time, but it couldn't be for much longer. Logan needed to know first--and maybe he put it off for Logan too, who had achieved what amounted to be stability of temperament with his nearly-permanent residence at the Mansion. That was about to end--and he hated the fact that it had to.
But a year's grace was more than either Scott or the Professor had expected. Far less, however, than they'd needed.
Logan turned, looking back at him--probably checking his scent over the conflicting odors of grease and brake fluid, to see how necessary the interruption was. Then growled something, before crossing to the side of the car, getting a foot on the board, and rolling Jubilee out.
"Can you finish up without me bein' here nagging you?" he asked. Jubilee looked up, a little surprised, eyes wide, then glanced quickly at Scott before nodding.
"Sure, Wolvie." A pause, then she raised herself on her elbows. "If you're busy, Kit and I--"
"Never mind that. I'll come get you at six, 'kay? Just be ready." Grabbing a rag off the car, Scott watched Logan wipe a smear of oil from Jubilee's face, then brush a quick kiss across her forehead. Logan was one of those happy rare souls who didn't have much of a problem with personal space or public displays of affection, at least with the kids. Or Jean, for that matter, but at this point, that thought just made Scott grin. "Get done and cleaned up, kid. I'll lock up later." With that, he stood up, pushing the board back under, then wiped his hands clean before facing Scott.
He had a strange feeling Logan knew exactly what he was about to tell him, and leaned against the door, waiting as the older man grabbed his overshirt off the car and pulling it on.
"Well?"
Scott motioned him to follow and they walked in companionable silence toward the grassy soccer field, while Scott tried to decide how to break the news--just straight out, he supposed. Logan preferred things unvarnished. So did Scott, truth be told.
"The revisions to the MRA are going to pass." Scott watched Logan closely, caught the flicker of the hazel eyes--yes, he'd been ready for this. Logan had listened to the back-up plans if the lobbying failed.
"You know the revised provisions?"
Scott almost spat as he thought of them.
"Required genetic testing for school admission, jobs, and any federally funded program. Passport revocation for mutants, ID for cross-state moves, and licensing for living in non-mutant-designated areas." Ghettos was a word for it. If he was being generous.
"Property rights dissolved?"
"We're not staying to find out." Scott came to a stop, fixing his gaze on the copse of trees in the distance. "Bobby and St. John already have their registration complete at NYU--the semester starts in two weeks, and they've been cleared as fully human. They should be fine. Piotr, Ororo, and you are exempt under foreign citizenship status, but there's a good chance you will get your visas revoked as soon as the revisions are passed. Dani and Proudstar are going to ground in the reservations--we received the confirmation yesterday."
Logan snorted softly--Scott had never noted Logan was particularly sensitive to issues of law.
"Who do you want me to take?"
"Hank, Kurt, Fred Dukes, and Rasputin for now. Kitty's not MRA registered, but we don't have the contacts at MIT to get her clear of the gene tests, so we can't risk her starting college this fall. Jubilee wasn't going anyway--"
Logan snorted something and Scott forced down the smile. That had been a point of contention between Logan and Jubilee since her announcement just before graduation.
"--and Remy's got his guild watching him--in its way." Scott thought about what he was going to say. "'Ro's staying to help shut down the school--we are going keeping it in operation until the last minute, so we won't arouse any suspicion. By the time they figure out what we're doing, it'll be too late."
Logan snorted something that could have been an obscenity, already reaching for a cigar--or two, as the case might be. Scott took the other without demur--a strange sort of Logan-bonding ritual, and he'd grown to tolerate Cuban blacks, even if he had no desire to find out who Logan's supplier was.
"You and Jeannie need to run and fast." Logan bit the tip, lighting the cigar, then tossing the lighter to Scott.
Scott looked down at the Cuban. They'd had this argument before, and more than once. Sometimes at the top of their voices, and every time Scott walked out, he was conscious of a sick uncertainty--Logan was remembering the times he'd gone as Jean's bodyguard to the conferences she was more and more shunned at, the lobbying in Congress where she was threatened outside the building--the single shot that had missed her by inches in Detroit, the last time she'd been allowed off-campus. Logan took his security duties seriously---one reason the FBI was finding it impossible to watch them as closely as they wanted to. Xavier had given Logan access to nearly-unlimited funds and to some of the most state-of-the-art black-market technology that could be found--and Logan hadn't wasted a second utilizing it.
"Jean's too visible. If she disappears now, there will be notice." He knew Logan didn't like that--and Scott hated it himself. Hated being afraid for Jean, hated that he'd had to restrict her to campus, and the nightmare that was his life with a fiancée who would barely speak to him. He didn't even try to convince her to leave, for all the reasons he told Logan--but also because he knew he had to compromise with her somewhere and this was where it had to happen. She'd stay as long as he did.
"Australia then?"
Scott nodded slowly, thinking through the plan again, examining it from every angle. "Yes. None of the kids who got registered are going to be in the country when the provisions go into full effect. We can get them out of Canada easier than out of the United States."
"How long?" The timetable wasn't written in stone, and Scott had made alterations to it as soon as he'd heard the news.
"Two months to get all the kids repapered and across the border. I can't chance notice. Even in Canada, we're not completely safe."
Logan was nodding slowly, but Scott watched his eyes slide back to the garage and watched with him as Jubilee emerged, wiping her hands off on her jeans before running for the doors of the Mansion.
"I want to take the girls out." Logan's voice was low. Scott had known that was coming too.
"They'll be fine, Logan. They weren't registered the first time around." It hadn't been hard to avoid it--the attempts were half-hearted at best. Obvious mutants, especially the physically altered, had been the real targets, along with the high-profile ones--he and Jean, for example. Xavier's powers had kept him and as many of the kids as they could safely hide free from registration. Kurt's German citizenship hadn't helped him, though. Germany had passed the same restrictions and the irony of that hadn't really escaped anyone. "We're getting out the registered first. They're the most vulnerable. We can't do a complete move or it will be noticed."
And he knew Logan understood that too--they couldn't afford even a hint of what they were planning to get out, or the borders would be shut down completely, and though Logan could find a way across alone, chancing it with several passengers--no. Thinking carefully, Scott ran through the timetables again, adding various permutations, discarding them as unlikely. They had their two months easy. Not suspicious, not at all.
"Okay. Your way, Cyke--for now. If there's even a hint--"
"I'll put them on the Blackbird and send them to Canada personally." The government knew about their plane, though as yet, they hadn't been approached about it. That still made Scott uneasy. His instincts were all on the side of just packing everyone up and running--pack them into the plane like sardines if necessary--but it just wasn't possible, not and get their assets out as well, buy the passports and IDs and places for their kids to survive.
Logan was still watching the garage and Scott wondered why--then checked the fix of the hazel eyes, following them until he found what Logan was really looking at, and drew in a breath. Knew that mentioning it would just piss Logan off, but--
"We're taking down her stone before we leave, Logan. They won't--they're not going to do anything to her grave." He didn't think they'd disinter Rogue just because she was a mutant--though there were uncomfortable rumors, rumors that Scott simply couldn't afford to even consider right now, about experiments, about legally registered mutants that had been arrested and then "escaped" from custody to vanish off the face of the earth, of non-registered disappearing completely.
The set face didn't register any change.
"I'll take it down before I leave," Logan said finally, then glanced at Scott, and he found himself unable to read the still face. "Just in case."
Scott let out a breath and forced a smile.
"I'll help you." Then decided to change the subject. "Your group will be ready on Sunday. That give you enough time?" To set up security for his absence, to brief Remy on what to do and give him access to the passcodes--to explain to Jubilee and Kitty and St. John that'd he be leaving and to take down the stone that marked where Rogue was buried.
And to pack the sketches up and send them ahead. But Scott didn't think about those.
"I'm taking the girls to dinner in New York--should be safe enough there." He gave Scott a sideways glance. It was a special treat for the kids to get off the school grounds, and Logan did it as often as it was safe to do so. "See ya later, Cyke."
Scott nodded shortly. He had a lot he should be doing, but nothing else seemed quite as important as standing here, taking in the day.
Smoking the Cuban and trying not to wince at the rich, harsh smoke in his lungs, Scott looked over the Mansion grounds, the school, committing the perfect day to memory. Somehow, he knew he'd need it.
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