xp_logs | Haller and Scott: The Truth Will Out (backdated)

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Haller and Scott run into one another in the hall and get into an argument about Professor Xavier and the direction of the school.

Scott wandered down the corridor deep in thought. Most people would have missed it, but if you really knew him you could tell that he was fuming. In fact he was so consumed by his thoughts that he didn't even notice Haller walking in front of him until he collided with the younger man leaving them both tangled in an undignified pile on the ground.

Jim got himself to his knees and winced when he realized who he'd crashed into. "Scott -- I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention . . ." Dammit, this is why you don't walk and read, he thought, disconsolately regarding the exploded file they were now sitting amidst. At least Hope was new enough it hadn't been large.

Scott had been avoiding Jim recently, he had been having trouble reconciling the fact that the telepath was Charles' biological son and no-one had even thought to tell him. "My fault", he disagreed as he bent down to help pick up the paperwork, "I wasn't looking where I was going." As he picked up the file the name of the student caught his eye, Hope Abbott. "This is one of the new students right?" he asked handing the paperwork back to Jim.

"Thanks -- and yes." The counselor tucked the paperwork back into the folder. He really needed to go digital. Folder in hand, Jim straightened and swiped a hand through his hair. "The professor and I were talking about her issues with involuntary projection. Jean's my next stop." He gave the older man a crooked smile. "Seems like it's New Student Season."

Scott shook his head in confusion, traces of anger present in his voice as he spoke. "I honestly don't know what Charles is thinking bringing in more students now." he confided. "We aren't even able to protect the students we already have and he wants to bring more kids into the school. That's just asking for trouble."

At Scott's tone, Jim frowned. "I know what you mean, but . . . what else should we do, just leave them to figure it out? Jessie's powers interfere with her life enough she can't legally have a driver's license, Hope's still afraid that one day she won't be able to get back to her body, and when Tandy manifested she put herself and others in the hospital. Maybe Sue could have managed, but control wasn't really the primary issue. So while I get your concerns, I also don't see an alternative."

"Jessie can live without a license if she had to," Scott pointed out. "It might be a fate worse than death but at least you'd still be alive. We hardly have a good track record of keeping kids out of the hospital ourselves, look at how often Layla ends up in there. And as for interfering with their lives, students here have been kidnapped, tortured and made the victim of horrible hate crimes. Besides, it makes sense that you'd agree with your father."

Jim gave the other man an odd look. "Not about everything," he replied with a deepening frown. "But about this? Yeah, I do. I wasn't enrolled in Xavier's when I saw someone die for the first time. Or the first time I accidentally killed someone. And if I had been, maybe the damage to my mind wouldn't have been as severe because it wouldn't have had three years to scar over. So we can argue about how safe the school is or isn't, but there's no guarantee life without it is any better."

"And if I hadn't been found by the professor then I don't know where I would be," Scott replied. "I didn't dare open my eyes, the system was completely failing me. I'd probably have ended up doing something really stupid and getting myself into more trouble, you know something like taking on an entire country." Scott flashed a smile at his friend. "I can understand the good that we do at the school more than anyone, but being able to help doesn't give us the right to put children in an even more dangerous situation."

"'More dangerous' is relative. For you and me the 'more dangerous' place would've been wherever we were, just because of what we can do. And even for people whose powers aren't as dangerous . . . that didn't help the mutants in Genosha." The telepath spread his free hand. "I don't like it either sometimes, my main priority's the school. But what are we supposed to do when people come asking for help? Ignore it?" Jim shook his head. "People staying out of other people's business was one of the things that made the Holocaust possible. And the cost in human life aside, that's how the world ended up with Magneto."

"Maybe Magneto is right," Scott admitted softly. "Not about terrorism or declaring ourselves overlords of the earth" he clarified, "but Charles' dream seems just that. A dream, humanity is still scared of us instead of accepting; and the times we aren't called out to deal with humans attacking mutants it's mutants attacking humans. Neither side seems willing to compromise or even try to talk it out. Perhaps instead of trying to peacefully co-exist we should just settle for a you leave us alone and we'll leave you alone détente." The older man shook his head, "We can never turn away a student who really needs us. But to keep accepting students like nothing ever happened, that's verging on the irresponsible."

"What can we do, lock them up? Even that won't work. We've been hit in our own home before. The Reavers attack, and -- last summer," Jim quickly amended, trying not to reopen the wound in Scott and Jean's life that Matthews still represented. "It doesn't matter where we are or what we are or aren't doing. Any time there's enough of us together in one place, we become a target."

Jim looked at the folder he held. The girl's name was inked in his careless handwriting. "I don't know if there's ever going to be a time where no one's afraid, either," he said, "but I think you have it wrong." The younger man raised his eyes to meet Scott's. The normally two-colored eyes were both blue. "How many times have we run into mutants attacking other mutants, or humans attacking other humans? Or someone from one group helping the other? You can call them exceptions to the rule, but that's not right. Just because you're part of a group doesn't mean you think the same thoughts. There are no sides. There's just people. And saying that all humans hate mutants and that it's never going to change is the same as humans saying all mutants are like Magneto and the Brotherhood."

Scott nodded, acknowledging Jim's point, "You're right, people do help one another whether they're mutants or not. But I think you're drawing the wrong message from that. Individuals help one out, even small groups might. But larger groups or governments, that's where we start seeing problems. Let's face it, most governments see mutants mainly as resources or problems."

Scott sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, "Can you honestly say that any government apart from Attilan has truly accepted mutants into the fold? And even Attilan isn't safe, look what happened to Sooraya while she was studying there. And that was another mutant who was responsible for that. But for every example like that how many more examples do we have of humans and mutants fighting. You're right, in the end it's all just people, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. People can still attack other groups of people. We see it all the time."

"So what do you suggest we do?" The words came out sharper than Jim had intended. Genosha had left his moods unstable, and he was acutely aware the damage hadn't yet healed. And more, he realized this wasn't a conversation he wanted to be having. He had just about recovered to the point he could wrap his head around dealing with the problems he saw in front of him, and even on his best days troubleshooting the bigger picture had never been his strong suit.

The irritation born of mental fatigue took this opening to spill more words from his mouth. "The world is shitty. People are afraid. Any institution not trying to exploit us is trying to persecute us. Fine. What do you suggest I tell her?" Jim pointed to the file in his hand. "'Sorry, Hope, I think your mother may be a bigot, but that's fine, it'll be good practice for later in life'? What's your solution?"

Scott's eyes narrowed and he dropped the papers he'd gathered into Jim's hands as he stood up. "Why not?" he asked slightly louder than he had meant to. "It's the truth and will it be any better for her if we sugar coat it for her? 'Your mom loves you really but she just doesn't understand what you're going through.' How are we really helping her if we let her believe that? Her life isn't going to be any better we're only setting her up for more disappointment later. Let's face it, parents and authority lie and hide the truth 'for our own good', or at least that's how they justify it to themselves."

Although he was in no state to recognize it Scott was no longer just speaking about Hope. "You want to know what I'd do? I'd take every mutant who I could and just leave. I'd take them somewhere they could be safe. Without the specter of our own government and neighbors trying to persecute and exploit us. The grand dream failed Jim and I don't want to sacrifice anyone else's blood or tears to a dead ideal. We've all already sacrificed more than enough."

"Where is this safe place?" The folder in Jim's hand began to crumple in his grip as his blood pressure rose. "The Morlocks tried separation. An entire society away from humanity, keeping to themselves. And what happened? Artie, Callisto, Sarah -- them and a handful of others, that's all that's left. Stryker kidnapped Kurt because he had the bad luck to get publicity in Boston. Mistra pulled Kyle out of juvenile hall right after he manifested. Sue just got snatched off the street in midtown!"

The younger man hurled the folder away and took a step into Scott. The movement brought a subtle pulse of pressure with it, like the push of a wave -- telekinesis. Jim had entirely left the conversation. Now Jack was out, and Jack was always ready for a fight.

"You don't think it's safe here," the alter hissed, "you already said Attilan wasn't. Last I checked most of the world was occupied. You think Xavier's dream is a joke? What's your destination, fucking Narnia?"

Scott frowned and pushed forward till he was staring directly at Jim's eyes, or maybe Jack's. "The Morlocks," he said slowly, "tried to be peaceful, all they wanted was to be left alone; it was peacefulness taken to an extreme. We don't have that problem."

The older man gestured angrily out of the window, "There is a whole world out there, we could find an uninhabited island somewhere I'm sure. We find somewhere and draw a line in the sand. This is our home, where here to stay so leave us alone. We don't need to hide in cities and hope that we'll be left alone. Make it a nation of our own and treat it as such. This our home and we'll defend ourselves against any aggressor. We'll be kind to our friends but don't cross us."

"And who builds the buildings? Grows the food? Us? All mutants working together?" Jack sneered. "Genosha had a council to protect mutant interests, and how'd that work for them? Power isn't useful to society? We can fix that. Got a power that could help, but other things in mind? Fuck your free will, the majority need you. And as for your kindness-to-friends-fuck-you-to-enemies policy -- they had that, too."

The taller man swung back a fisted hand, as if backhanding the wall. It made no physical contact, but the wood paneling splintered behind him. "You think integration is a pipedream," Jack continued, fist still clenched, "but if you think things would be 'better' just because it's only mutants doing it, you're got even less grip on reality than the gimp. He says stay and fight because he knows people will drag shit wherever they go. But you -- you think all the problems disappear if you just run away."

Scott's fists clenched and he had to actively restrain himself from taking a swing at Haller. "Who said anything about running away? Running away is ignoring your problems or hoping they won't do anything. I never said that it should be all mutant. We can do a lot but we can't do everything and no-one should have to do something they don't want to. Open borders is fine. I like that about Attilan. But protecting your own borders isn't enough, it's not nearly enough. If the Genoshans had been treating normal humans like that what do you think would have happened? There would have been an international task-force and they would have invaded the country to save them. What did we get? They wrung their hands and had discussions! It's not good enough!"

He took a deep breath before continuing in a more normal tone of voice. "And guess what? The professor didn't stand up and make a fuss when he heard what was happening. He kowtowed and said that it was a complicated situation. We could have stood up and stopped it right there, before anyone else got kidnapped or hurt. But the professor wants to co-exist peacefully." Scott shook his head dismissively, "It doesn't really matter what I say, does it? No matter what act you put on you're always going to end up agreeing your dad aren't you. All this time you've been disagreeing with him, it's all been an act hasn't it. He was wrong but you can't admit it can you? Instead you rush to his defense. When it really counts you slipped up just because 'Daddy's dream' is in danger of being tarnished."

Jack suddenly went very still.

"He's David's father. Not mine." The words came out low and dangerous, and the splintered paneling began to vibrate audibly under another tremor of telekinesis. "Jimmy told you why knowing he was David's father meant I'd never trust him. It was part of the Big Share. He warned you the results would not be good if you ever referred to that crippled shitheel as my father to my face." His ice-grey eyes narrowed, and his clothes began to ripple slightly with bleeding power. "He was serious."

Scott shook his head in exasperation, "I have no idea what you're talking about," he informed Haller coldly. "Jim never told me anything about why you would or wouldn't trust Charles. Are you sure you're not imagining things?"

"You mean sitting through an entire night of you and Jimmy braiding each other's hair and baring your souls about your mutual daddy issues? Oh, don't I wish." The alter's weight shifted subtly, the movement reminiscent of a snake poising to strike. "You want to stop on the survival tip, you go right ahead. But don't think you get out of it saying you weren't warned. I see everything he does. Everything."

"Everything? Yipee for you." Scott returned sarcastically. "Perhaps you're starting to see his dreams too because I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." As he spoke Scott unconsciously shifted his own stance to prepare for an attack from Jack. "Let's get a few things clear here, I don't know what you're talking about. I never got your so called survival tip about 'Jim's' dad. If you have a problem with that then maybe you should have got Jim to tell me about it earlier. Withholding that kinda information really is a kinda two-faced thing to do, but I mean what else should I expect. Anything else that you're withholding from me? And anyway, I am slightly worried that you or he dreams about braiding my hair."

Jack had the words It was a decade before Xavier even told Haller the truth, and you're crying because it took Jim a fucking year? chambered and ready to fire, but they never emerged. Something about Scott's tone was setting off Jim's alarm bells. There was too much cold anger in the accusation for the man to simply be pretending ignorance to upset Jack, and the outrage seemed raw -- fresh. Scott hadn't shown any of it when he'd first found out. Something wasn't right.

The psi covered his face with his hands, forcing his breathing to slow. After a few moments the pounding of blood in his head was gone, and Jack with it.

"Didn't . . . didn't do it on purpose." Jim swallowed, and his voice strengthened. "I only held back because I didn't know how to tell you. When you found out your dad was alive -- I'm sorry I waited so long, but it was the first opening I saw."

Jim's obvious sincerity and his struggle to repress Jack caused Scott to take a deep breath and push his anger aside. "You could have just told me Jim," he pointed out, "I'm your friend; you didn't have to wait for someone else to tell me in the prison." As he spoke the older man wracked his memory. "I remember telling you about my father that night, and getting drunk while telling stories about him. But you never told me about the professor Jim, perhaps you wanted to and imagined it?" he asked gently.

"No, we . . ." There was a horrible moment where Scott's frankness actually made him second-guess himself. Scott wasn't a liar, and even if he had been this wasn't something Jim could understand lying about, especially now that the argument had derailed. He wracked his own brain, hurriedly checking not only his own memories, but those held by Jack and Cyndi. They were both largely co-conscious -- if it had happened, they would have corresponding memories.

"No," Jim repeated. "No, it wasn't just that night. We talked about it after that night, too, and more than once." But not lately, whispered his paranoia. How long had it been since the last joke? The last off-hand comment? He couldn't remember.

A horrible thought struck him.

"Wait, the prison?" A hot, tight hand gripped his heart. Jim pressed on. "You found it out from the Genoshans?"

Scott looked at Jim in confusion, "Of course," he replied. "During the interrogations, they knew about it and tried to use it to break me and make me confess to them. What do you mean we talked about it after that night?" Scott was completely lost now, obviously he and Jim had different recollections of the past but he didn't remember ever having talked about this before.

Oh shit. Oh shit. The Genoshans had been trying to divide and conquer. If they'd wanted to drive a wedge between the two of them --between Scott and the professor himself --

They'd had Betsy working for them.

Trying to keep his voice even, Jim gave Scott a tight shake of the head.

"We need Jean."

Scott's eye shot open in alarm, Jean? why would they need her unless...His eye narrowed in suspicion as his mind followed Jim's reasoning to its logical conclusion. Someone had been messing with one of their minds. He nodded at Jim, "We do," he agreed as he pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial.