Chapter Text
Scott is teaching geometry, when it happens.
A silent, mental summoning- which is, to be fair, a commonality in his life. It’s more a feeling, in the back of his mind, than a series of words. He’s not worried.
He dismisses his class- it’s nearing the end of the period, anyway- thinking nothing of it. Years of experience as an X-Man have molded him to be relatively unshakable, especially by something as simple as a mental summons. He meets Jean, Hank, and Ororo as he walks- their classes all along the way- and, under the (reasonable, Scott may add) assumption they are being sent on a mission, he and Hank lightly discuss the state of the Blackbird and its fuel tank (their last mission had ended… somewhat poorly, and they had forgotten to refuel upon their return. Scott and Hank both attempt to remind the other of this fact. Ororo and Jean spend the rest of the walk laughing at them both).
When they reach the Prof’s room, something in Scott’s mind flashes bright red- in the metaphorical sense (he wouldn’t really notice otherwise)- screaming a warning that has him crossing his arms and coming to stand by Charles, who nods at him in welcome. He is tense, but a quick scan of the room tells Scott nothing is yet out of the ordinary.
Logan, watching him check the room from where he’s just entered the doorway (he doesn’t have a class this period, and Scott is willing to bet he was smoking in one of the designated teacher’s lounges upstairs, despite the Professor’s admonishings), scoffs- something about a stick and an ass (and, really, he is one to talk)- but Scott simply glowers and waits for further information from the Professor. Jean shakes her head at Logan as he settles himself firmly in the doorway, but she’s smiling. Scott notes that while Logan’s not yet scowling, he is almost certainly preparing his face to be in the best position to scowl as quickly as possible once the meeting begins.
Jubilee, clearly fresh from the Danger Room, is the last to file into the room, following closely behind Kurt (also clearly fresh from the danger room), tail between his legs as she tries in vain to reach and clean a cut on his shoulder. They sheepishly shuffle into the back of the room, where the younger members of the team have gathered.
With a nod towards the two of them, Professor Xavier mentally closes the door to his office, and smiles. He holds the odd group in suspense for a moment, before announcing with a sly smile, “I have decided that you all are long overdue for a vacation.”
Scott feels a wave of nausea roll through him at the very word. He knew he was right to be wary. A gasp rolls through the room (and, if he were not so stressed himself, he would laugh at how shocked the younger members of the team are, as if he and the Prof run them ragged- as if their days aren’t filled with basketball games and their nights filled with movies. As it stands, however, he barely suppresses a gasp himself, out of fear, rather than elation, and therefore is in no position to judge his dramatic team).
To elaborate; ‘Vacation’ and ‘the X-Men’ are two things that do not end well together.
Scott could look all the way back to the beginning, when it had just been him, and Jean and Bobby and Warren and Hank, and still count on one hand the number of times ‘vacations’ had not ended within three hours, accompanied by a mental warning from the Professor of a new danger. In fact- and he can tell Jean and Hank feel the same from the apprehension clear on their faces (Bobby and Warren are facing away from him, but he assumes they are similarly wary)- Scott has come to associate the mere word with danger and is currently feeling the inscrutable urge to suit up.
Thinking back, Scott’s not sure he has ever even successfully made it further than the city outside of missions- not that, in his formative teenage years, he had anywhere past Westchester to go.
In all honesty, as soon as the fear sinks back in, his first assumption is that Cain Marko or someone of the like has recently escaped wherever they are now, and this is the Prof soft-launching their next fight. He stands up a bit straighter and tries to make a mental list of their villains who could possibly be currently on the loose.
“And this time,” the Professor says, smirking in Scott’s direction (he’s unsure if his glasses had dimmed with his distrust or if he had simply projected his thoughts too loudly), “I have contacted the Fantastic Four. Should something go wrong within the X-Men’s patrol perimeter, or should one of our specific foes resurface, we have Sue Storm’s word it will be handled without our concern.”
Scott sees Jubilee pump her fist from the back of the room.
“In exchange for what, exactly?” questions Jean, eyebrow raised (she too has learned the hard way to be wary of a promised vacation).
The Professor merely grins at her, “The next time the Four are assigned patrol in Daredevil’s section of Hell’s Kitchen, I gave promise of a replacement. After the Human Torch’s last encounter with the Devil, we all thought it best if this was the exchange.”
His comment is met with groans from most of his students and staff, but Logan leans forward from his position against the door with a grin aimed right at Scott. “Well, that’ll be nothin’ to our Fearless Leader, ain’t that right, Slim?”
Scott rolls his eyes, fruitless as the action may be, and opens his mouth to respond. But, before he can, he feels Jean in the back of his mind, and happily welcomes her in. To him alone, she says, The Professor is so much lighter than usual. That grin on his face-!? I haven’t seen him like this since- I don’t even know when. When we graduated, maybe.
When we found out Lehnsherr was alive?
He closes his mouth to let her speak (think?), and, long tortured by the two’s silent methods of communication, the team fondly but quietly complain as they await Scott’s response.
Which time? she laughs, and Logan rolls his eyes (he may not be able to hear them, but, well-versed in the both of them after so many years fighting and living alongside each other, Scott is willing to bet he knows exactly what they’re talking about. He honestly doesn’t know why Jean hasn’t let him in yet, today. They spend most missions mentally connected, the three of them, and it’s become such a habit they do it in their everyday life too. Logan is probably annoying Jean- something he knows much better than to do. If one person could match him line for line of stubbornness, it would be her).
With a small smile, Scott replies, Odds this announcement has something to do with him?
Kitty starts a quiet line of ‘not it!s’ from the younger group in the back, finger to her nose. Kurt curses when, only slightly familiar with the game, he is the last to touch his face.
“Hey, at least you can just zap out of the way if he tries to beat you! What am I gonna do to the Devil, throw sparkles in his face?” Jubilee whispers.
Oh, without a doubt, Jean replies to him.
"I can handle the Devil,” Scott says out loud, in response to Logan’s jibe and the students’ consequent joking. “It’s the vacation I’m worried about.”
Scott feels Jean slip slightly out of his mind, before she’s back again, joined this time by another, familiar, if not irritating, presence. Finally, he thinks. Logan laughs- his real, wheezy laugh- and Scott realizes he must have projected the thought accidentally.
He’s been mentally yelling at me to let him in since we got here, Jean smiles.
Should’ve made him wait longer, he replies, ignoring the flush on his face from the slip-up.
Stick, meet ass, Logan thinks at him. Oh! I see you’re already well acquainted.
How long have you been holding that line in, Logan?
As long as that stick’s been up there, Jeannie.
Eat ass, Wolverine. Scott turns back to the Professor, pretending to ignore the two of them.
Logan winks at him, Jean fondly rolls her eyes, and both presences recede almost completely out of his mind, leaving him only with emotions in the back of his head. Logan may not express it (because he is a stubborn bitch), but he can feel two similar tinges of fondness at his grin.
“Luckily for you, Mr. Summers,” Scott starts, slightly at his name, it's hard to track two (three, if you count the eye he’s keeping on the kids in the back) conversations like this- Jean has always been better at it than he has- “The most you’ll have to do is fly the Blackbird. And maybe a bit of swimming, if you’re up for it. I have arranged for the team to stay at the newly finished Genoshan hotel.“ He pauses, slightly. “Erik has promised peace and security, as well as an opportunity to be ‘immersed in the future of humanity.’”
Scott looks over to Jean to see her already hiding a smile in his direction.
“Yeah,” Rogue says with a smirk, “I ain’t buyin’ it. Erik is just gonna let us stay? Us? Do we have to sit through a forty minute lecture about enterin’ ‘the land of our brethren’ first? Are we going to be watched for recruitment schemes? Make sure we don’t sneak anyone all the way back to Westchester?”
Remy’s arm tightens around her shoulder, but he’s smiling, the prospect of a vacation too enticing to deny. The poor fool.
“Do not fear, Rogue. While, of course, Genosha is the only mutant sanctuary on the planet, I did contact Erik to ensure we, specifically, would be well received. He has assured me there are no tourists he would rather grace his new hotel.”
Bobby turns and gives the Professor an incredulous look, and he relents with a small sigh.
“And, Mr. Lehnsherr and I seem to have…” his lips flatten, “Come to an agreement, regarding our political ideologies, and consequent methods.”
Scott can feel Jean’s mirth tickling the back of his mind.
“If all goes well, as I suspect it will,” the Professor continues, “this trip will be the first of many.”
“Who will watch the children? Surely we’re not taking every student to Genosha.”
“No, Ororo, we are not. I will be monitoring the school mentally our entire trip, of course, but Piotr has offered to run the school while we are away.”
Scott tries not to frown. He could have done a perfectly fine job running the school while the professor and the team were away. He has before. Why hadn’t the Prof come to him, first?
“And, of course, the goal, long term, is to bridge the gap between our two groups so that one day it will be possible to take the students on a field trip to Erik’s sanctuary, so they can see what we are all working towards.”
“What,” Logan asks sarcastically, and only slightly joking, “Segregation?”
“On the contrary, Logan. Freedom. Inclusion. Peace.”
Scott looks to the floor, conflicted.
The ethics of both the Professor and Magneto are long discussed between the older members of the X-Men, especially between Scott, Logan, and Jean. They have yet to come to a full agreement beyond the stretches of “genocide is bad,” and “that goes both ways.” Jean is still working on getting Logan to even agree that murder is also bad. Scott has given up.
“Things are changing, Logan,” Jean says gently, “for the better. It’s hard to let go of the time we spent fighting his cause. But Magneto has a point. We can’t ignore that forever. The Professor trusts him and his dedication.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “And I do too.”
Logan scowls at her, but it’s half-hearted.
“If it makes you feel any better, Logan,” Scott smirks, arms crossed, “one magnetically altered adamantium pinky bone and I promise to carry your stiff body all the way back to the jet.”
Logan growls playfully, and Jean smacks his shoulder, then uses her T.K. to smack Scott’s as well. He pouts at her, and pointedly ignores Kitty and Jubilee's teasing grimaces.
“Yes, yes,” the Professor smiles. “As it is- I will not force anyone to accompany us on this trip. The choice is yours. If you do choose to remain, I urge you to at least take a moment to relax. I’ve locked the Danger Room for the next two weeks. If you’re planning on traveling, please begin packing- we will leave in the morning, and stay for two full weeks.” He is met with nods, and- from the newer members- smiles in his direction. “You’re all dismissed.”
The second the words are out, the room fills with noise. Ororo pulls Jean aside, and Scott hears them beginning to discuss the merits of bringing their costumes (and, subsequently, the incredibly high chance they will come to need them, at some point on this ‘vacation’) along as they exit.
Bobby and Warren spare one glance at each other and race out the door, presumably to finish whatever competition the Professor’s summonings had interrupted- and, while they’re at it, work off the budding anxiety from the prospect of a vacation.
He watches Jubilee make mischievous eye contact with Kitty, then touches his fingers to the bridge of his glasses as Kitty takes the hint, jumping to grab Kurt by the shoulders and force him down as they walk out, allowing Jubilee to dress the cut in his shoulder as he half-heartedly complains, though his tail is flicking.
Logan flicks Jubilee playfully on the shoulder on her way out, and then grunts as Remy throws the arm not on Rogue around Logan’s shoulder- dangerous game- and asks if anyone is up for lunch.
This, Scott thinks fondly, is his family.
He looks to the professor, ring finger absentmindedly- well, as absentmindedly as the Professor can get- tapping a letter on his desk, and Scott knows, without snooping further, exactly who it's from. He has to work to suppress a grin at the yearning look on Charles' wrinkled face.
As everyone else files out, Charles says, flatly but not unkindly, “Your amusement rings loudly, Scott.”
“Can you blame me, Professor?” he gives in and grins. “We’ve come a long way from when we first met the Brotherhood.”
Charles looks somewhere far away, with a grin Scott knows is not for himself. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, indeed we have.”
Scott smiles gently at the sight, and goes to close the door behind him, but before he can, he hears, “Please do try to take a moment to yourself, Scott. This break is for you as much as it is for the rest of the team- try not to forget that.”
He nods, and leaves Charles to ponder both the future and the past.
He decides to refuel the Blackbird while the topic is on his mind- he’ll need to fill the tank and bring along extra for the trip to Africa, and he’d rather do it now than force someone else to take the brunt of the work later.
When he reaches the hangar, he finds Piotr, packing up one last gallon of fuel into the back of the jet.
“Colossus,” he says, trying to keep his voice upbeat, “Thank you. But there was no need for that. You’ll have enough on your hands with the children soon enough- I’ll finish prepping the jet.”
“It was nothing,” he booms, grinning down at Scott. “Everything is prepared for your takeoff tomorrow. The basketball field is even cleared and ready.”
The ladder groans under his weight as he makes his way down, smile fading to seriousness.
“Scott, I can take care of this. I promise.”
Scott sighs. “I believe that.”
Piotr claps a metallic hand on Scott’s shoulder, and he has to make an effort not to grunt at the impact. “Charles wishes for you to take some time off, friend. That is why he has not assigned you this task."
"Yes, well, you deserve a break too, Piotr-"
Colossus smiles fondly, and his skin ripples back to- well, skin. "I do take breaks, Scott. I visit my family. I watch the sunrise, smell the salt of the sea, taste the wind of the farms." He squeezes Scott's shoulder. "We see the strain in your shoulders. We see the color under your eyes. Take your break, Summers. I will handle things here.”
Defeated, Scott nods and lets Colossus lead him out of the room.
Despite being a fairly civilian action in his otherwise militant life, Scott has always enjoyed packing. Once his list is written, he can turn off his mind and be at peace for a few minutes- an hour, if he’s lucky.
This is a long trip- his list takes up two pages of legal paper- and Scott (despite his reservations about leaving) is eagerly awaiting the process of packing.
He writes the list in the kitchen with Hank, who is toying with some device or another- classes are over for the day, but they like to be out where the children aren’t shy about asking questions for as long as they can. Once his pen ink is dry, he folds the pages, excuses himself, and makes his way up the stairs to his and Jean’s bedroom. Closing the door with a sigh, he feels his shoulders fall, tension releasing from his entire body. He stretches for a moment, pulls out one of his suitcases- he bought this one while undercover with Jean in Miami, it’s always been his favorite. Jean told him it was blue, and if he squints, he can almost remember what that means. Blue was his favorite color, once, before red was all he could ever see, and its comfoting to him, to know so concretely that this is not that- and, finally, he removes himself from his body, and mindlessly (yet still carefully) begins to fold his casual wear, then his pajamas, then his swimwear, and so on, and so forth. He gets so lost in the execution of his list and the space his brain can go when doing a menial task such as this, he doesn’t hear Jean sneak into the room.
“Your mind went so quiet I was afraid you had found where Bobby and I hid your horseshoes again,” she says with a smile.
“Jean,” he says, startled.
She walks casually into the room and flops over onto their bed, using her T.K. to begin lazily sorting through her own dresser.
“Sorry.” He purses his lips. “I wasn’t sure where you were, or I would have warned you.” Scott tries his very hardest to let Jean know when his mind will be- to put it lightly- something of a clusterfuck. While he would never force her out, or even try, he likes to know that she is prepared. The few times she has looked for him and found him far away- in that place, where his mind is off and his body is a machine- he had been incredibly embarrassed. He’s more used to it now, but he still likes to make sure she’s ready for it.
She frowns at him, then continues to look through her piles of floating clothing, feigning casualness. “You know you don’t have to warn me, Scott. I like your mind. All of it.”
He nods, not really absorbing her words.
“Sorry to interrupt your process- you can ignore me and go back to it. I know you were excited.”
He flushes red at how well she knows him, but nods again and lets the nothingness overtake him, taking the opportunity- scarce as they come- to just be off. Not the Fearless Leader, not Cyclops, not even Scott Summers- just a moment of peace in the haze of his busy life.
When he finally comes back to himself, each item of his list is carefully crossed off, and Jean is gone. She left him a note, though, adding a few things she thinks he may need that were not on his list, and letting him know she would be in the kitchen having dinner with Ororo and Logan.
He places his suitcase- packed and ready with Jean’s amendments and a few of his own- carefully next to Jean’s. They are a matching set. He sticks the sticky note from Jean on his own suitcase and gently traces the heart she signed off with before heading to the kitchen.
He can smell Logan’s cigars before he can see any of them, and he’s already smiling by the time he walks into the room. Logan and Ororo are checking the layout of the Genoshan hotel over two bowls of spaghetti- Kitty must have cooked tonight- and Jean is sipping her tea, watching the two of them fondly.
It’s such a domestic sight, he’s reluctant to walk in and disrupt it, but his stomach makes the decision for him, gurgling quietly, but loudly enough to be picked up by Logan. Damned super-senses.
He looks up and smiles at Scott, only slightly predatorily (Scott doesn’t think he knows how to not smile like a predator, honestly), and puts out his cigar (on the ash tray, thankfully. Scott has yelled at him too many times for pointlessly putting it out on his skin or the table).
“Look who’s back. Jeannie tell you we were ‘fraid you’d put those stakes back up?”
“Sorry for being responsible and packing, Wolverine. Do you even own a bag?”
“Nah- but you own plenty, Slim, and that’s all I need.”
Scott tuts at him, but makes an appreciative noise as Logan grabs a bowl and scoops some leftover pasta into it. He passes it over, and Ororo shifts the map so that all four of them can inspect it.
They’re standing against the island, leaning close and staying quiet, trying to memorize the layout.
Scott points to a fire exit on the third floor, one that is blocked by half of a wall and leads out to the very front of the building, and says, “This will probably be our biggest liability. Should we have someone on watch, do you think?”
Logan laughs. “No fuckin’ way you’re sending me on vacation and then shoving me on guard duty. I think the rest of the team will feel the same.” Scott frowns at this, and Logan claps his shoulder, lets his hand move up into a gentle caress towards his cheek, looking up at him. “Lighten up, Scottie, c’mon. This is a break for all of us, ‘n’ that includes you.” He swipes his thumb over Scott's cheekbone, holding eye contact to make sure Scott has really heard him, really listened, then lowers his hand and his eyes with a fond smile.
Ororo nods. “Professor Xavier would not house us here if he had any fear of trouble. I think it will be best to relax for a bit, but be ready to fight if the time comes.”
Jean looks at the three of them with a fondly condescending smile. “It’s not like any of us are going to forget to bring our weapons along to the Genoshan restaurant, or something. We’re always prepared. I think as long as we know the layout and we know our own abilities, we don’t need to prep any more than that.” She looks to Scott, “I know that won’t stop you, but if you’re still worrying once we get there, I’ll put you to sleep myself if I have to.”
Scott smiles.
Ororo is looking back down on the map with a frown. “I highly doubt this is a fully detailed drawing of the true hotel. Trusting the Professor or not, Magneto is not one to give away his advantages. It’s likely the walls are lined with metal of some sort- copper, perhaps- I believe it would be best for me to refrain from summoning lighting inside the building, and that leaves me at a bit of a disadvantage, unfortunately.”
Jean nods. “Refrain from lighting, but, if the need arises, it could come in handy. If I could control the current with my T.K…”
“Didn’t we just say no strategizin’?” Logan grunts, standing up straight. “Vay-cay-tion,” he stresses. “We all need it.”
Scott nods. “I actually agree with Logan.” Logan makes a noise feigning shock. Scott works very hard to keep all thoughts of Logan's hand on his cheek- and its effect on his opinion- away from the ever present thrum of their three-way mental bond. “If we overthink this, the whole experiment will be pointless.”
“I believe the first step to that, Scott, would be to think of it as an experience rather than an experiment.”
“‘Ro’s right. It’ll be nice to unwind, see the kids happy. Imagine what menaces Jubes, Kitty and Kurt will be to the Brotherhood.” Logan gets up to put everyone’s bowls into the dishwasher, and then grabs a beer from a locked cabinet above his head.
“Bobby and Warren alone will give them a run for their money,” Scott laughs.
“See, Scott,” Jean says, smiling brightly up at him. “This is going to be fun. A real vacation. Surrounded by all our favorite people.”
And, for the first time since the word had sent shivers down his spine, Scott almost believes it.