CHAPTER 173— SCOTT LEAVES
The morning after the funeral was too bright. Sunlight pushed through the windows of Xavier's mansion, catching dust motes in the air. It felt wrong, the world carrying on like nothing happened.
The X-Men gathered in the main hall, silent, waiting. Scott Summers stood in front of them, hands clasped behind his back. His posture was military-straight, but his face was pale, drained. The red of his visor gleamed in the light, hiding the eyes no one would see again.
"I'm leaving." His voice carried like a hammer dropped on stone.
A ripple went through the room.
Colossus's brow furrowed. "Leaving? You cannot mean this, comrade." His big hands curled into fists. "We need you. Now more than ever."
Scott shook his head slowly. "No. You need a leader who isn't… broken. Jean was my whole life. Every wall I built, every fight I survived, she was the reason. Without her, I can't breathe in these halls. Every corner is a reminder. Every face…" He stopped, swallowed hard. "I can't stay."
Storm stepped forward, her white hair catching the sunlight. "Scott, pain does not vanish if you run from it. We are family. You would not walk away from family."
Scott's jaw tightened. "Maybe. But right now… I don't have the strength to be family to anyone."
Nightcrawler's tail flicked, his voice soft but steady. "Grief blinds, mein freund. God guides us even in shadow. If you go now, you may regret what you leave behind."
Scott's lips twitched, almost a smile, but bitter. "God didn't save Jean."
The silence that followed cut sharp.
Angel leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His wings flexed with agitation. "So that's it? You just leave us holding the bag while you go brood? That's rich, Summers."
Scott's head snapped up. "You think this is easy for me, Warren?"
Angel's eyes narrowed. "I think you're running. Same as you've always done when things get too real."
Logan had been leaning in the corner, arms crossed, silent, watching. At that, he chuckled low, rough. "Careful, bird-boy. You start flappin' too loud, you'll sound like a rooster again."
Angel shot him a glare. "Shut it, Wolverine."
Logan shrugged, popped a cigar from his jacket, and lit it with a slow drag. The sulfur hit his nose sharp, grounding him. "Don't matter. One man's grief don't need all our claws. If Slim says he's gone, then he's gone. Nothin' we say changes it."
Cyclops turned to him, surprised. "You're not going to try to stop me?"
Logan blew smoke, eyes narrowing. "Would it matter if I did?" He tapped his temple. "I can smell it on you. That kind of pain… it sticks. Ain't no talkin' someone outta it."
Scott hesitated. He looked around the room one last time. Colossus's desperate eyes, Storm's hurt, Nightcrawler's plea, Logan's steady, unflinching stare.
"I'm sorry," Scott whispered. Then louder: "Take care of each other."
He turned and walked out. The heavy doors creaked, then slammed shut. His footsteps faded.
Silence.
Angel broke it first, sighing sharp. "He's gone." He unfolded his arms, wings stretching wide. "Guess that means I'm staying."
Storm's brows arched. "Staying?"
Angel nodded, jaw set. "I've been sitting out too long. Got rusty, useless. I froze up on the moon and almost cost us. I'm not letting that happen again. I'll fight. I owe you all that much."
Colossus gave a small nod. "We welcome your strength, comrade."
Nightcrawler smiled faintly. "A prodigal bird returns, ja?"
Logan smirked around his cigar. "Just don't molt all over the mansion this time, pretty boy."
Angel rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched with the ghost of a smile.
The team stood there, each one heavy with the hole Scott left behind. The hall felt too big now, the silence too loud.
And in Logan's head, a low growl of thought:
'Jeannie gone. Slim gone. And we're still standin' here like deer in headlights. This family's crackin'… but hell, maybe cracks let in light.'