20207/The Scene of the Escape

The Scene of the Escape
Date of Scene:	09 March 2025
Location:	Cable's Supple Leather Accented man Cave
Synopsis:	After an uncomfortably long time at Xavier's without checking in with Cable again, Madelyne finally goes in search of 'her son' from another time again, and the two catch up over some routine weapons maintenance.
Cast of Characters:	Madelyne Pryor, Cable

---

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
It's been days since Cable returned from Genosha with his mother -- after a fashion -- in tow.

On the bright side of things, the school is still standing.

Other than that, however, Madelyne Pryor has failed pretty spectacularly both in keeping out sight of the MLF (and about 2.5 million others who watched the video on social media) and in 'playing nice' with her gracious hosts.

Well... in truth, she's playing particularly nice with one fuzzy blue host, but that isn't likely to be a subject that Cable wants to spend a tremendous amount of time dwelling on.

The other thing Madelyne has been -- as far as Nathan has been concerned -- is absent. The woman hasn't even stopped back by in days. She somehow found time to make her way in to Manhattan -- and nearly killed three people in the process -- but not stop by to see him.

It's supposed to be the kids who avoid seeing their parents. Not the other way around.

So, it's with that in mind that Madelyne returns to the scene of the crime -- or, rather, the escape from the crime.

She slows in front of the door in the stables she'd stepped out of a few days ago -- a journey that had carried her out to the frozen lake on the grounds of the school and into the unexpected arms of the man she's spent the last few days with. She presses her hand to the biometric scanner, goes through the prompts, and even says her name, all the while expecting to set off some sort of alarm.

It doesn't.

Instead, the door opens for her, and the red-haired woman blinks in surprise.

"Unexpected..."

It's just a murmur of a word, a small smile curling her lips.

"Nathan?" she calls through the door before stepping through it. "Are you... dressed?"

Cable has posed:
One can never be exactly sure whether or not Cable is around at any given time.

While the fact that he has access to bodyslide technology -- even in a diminished capacity -- certainly plays a part in that. So to however is that he continually seems to have some sort of objective in mind. He continually seems to have the 'next mission' to preoccupy him.

It is true that occasionally the next step in his plan might require him to lay low for a time, might very well require him to demonstrate some measure of patience, more often then not his 'next step' involves blowing something up. Loudly and with extreme prejudice.

His suggestion that she stick close to the manner was exactly that. A suggestion. It was rooted in the fact that it is unlikely that the MLF has given up in their desire to lay their hands on her, to try and bend her troubled mind to supporting their ends. And if the Mutant Liberation Front could easily pierce the defenses of the Xavier Institute, if they were willing to go up against the X-Men, it wouldn't be to claim her. It would be to simply rescue their leader, Stryfe.

Nor was his offer to allow her to stay in his secret quarters beneath the stables a demand. It came with no expectations.

Which is probably a good thing. Since she disappeared for quite some time and got up to all manner of trouble while out of his direct supervision.

It's probably also good that he isn't from this timeline, that reality can absorb certain bumps, certain changes.

Because from what Cable understands if that wasn't the case there's a good chance that he would be blue and hairy right about now, instead of sporting the Summer's chiseled chin.

When Maddie finds that she has access to his underground quarters, she will also find that there doesn't seem to be any difficulty locating her not exactly son is not hard to find. Indeed, he sits at one of those work benches, idly cleaning and maintaining some of that advanced arsenal he has access to.

When she comes down those steps, his gaze lifts her way, his features that impassive mask once more. "Madelyne," he says quietly. "Good to see you," he adds, almost politely.

Then, "You'll find that I'm generally dressed," he assures her drily. "I hear that you have been busy," he adds.

Which could be a reference to almost anything. The confrontation in New York comes to mind, but it might be referring to her and a certain fuzzy blue elf. Or anything inbetween.

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
Thank god for small favors.

Madelyne has never responded well to demands. Whether that's a genetic trait from Jean, a personality treat from how she was... raised -- or 'programmed' -- or something to do with the more supernatural forces like the fragment of the Phoenix inside her, she doesn't really know.

Suffice it to say, she's never been a fan of authority, though some -- like those who have put their lives on the line to save hers -- would certainly have a better chance than others.

"News always did travel fast around here."

Which could also be a reference to almost anything. Maybe being intentionally vague and mysterious to see how the other responds is a Pryor trait.

She's dressed as she usually is, in slacks and ankle boots -- sleek, feminine, sophisticated, versatile -- though she's wearing a form-fitting sweater and a warmer jacket today.

Apparently she's done some shopping, too.

"Don't tell me you sleep in your clothes," she muses, a wry curl of her lips as she steps off the bottom step, finger slipping easily from the railing.

So she's just not going to talk about being willing to murder three men in cold blood in Times Square, clearly stopped only by the Scarlet Witch.

Rolling her shoulders, she slips out of her coat and folds it in half, then tosses it over the arm of the couch on her way to the workbench.

"I could pick up some pajamas for you next time I'm out. It's the least I could do to say thank you. Are you into... dinosaurs?"

Clear humor brightens her eyes, a blatant attempt to harken back to her not-quite-motherhood. It comes off as a tongue-in-cheek jab at herself and her self-awareness of being 'not-quite-anything' -- much less a mother -- more than trying to tease Cable himself.

It's also clearly an attempt to break down any awkward barriers that might have sprung up in her absence besides testing the ones that are still there.

Cable has posed:
For Cable's part it almost looks like he hasn't changed his clothes since he appeared in front of her in Genosha, aiming to rescue her from Zero, Tempo and whoever else the Mutant Liberation Front sent after her.

He is still dressed in a simply jumpsuit with an excessive number of pockets and pouches, tactical belts and shoulders pads also prominently in evidence.

One presumes that he has changed in the time she has been away, that his wardrobe probably leans heavily into multiple copies of the same thing. But hey, who's to say for sure. Maybe clothes like so much else it seems in Cable's life are ignore before they ultimately don't matter to his end goals.

He can be a little single-minded.

Still it would seem that he is not completely without some semblance of humor as her gambit of suggesting dinosaur PJs draws a look from him, one brow arched. Maybe there is a hint of a smile on those grizzled features. Maybe. Maybe there's a twinkle in his one remaining 'real' eye. Maybe.

"I was always more partial to army men," he counters sardonically. Which, of course he is. He's practically a walking, talking advertisement for the military.

And chances are he is better equipped then a lot of them out there, especially given some of the advanced weaponry he is packing.

His eyes dip back to the work in front of him, to the weapon he is working on, finishing with it and setting it aside before simply reaching for the next item in his personal arsenal.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

There's no lectures, no judgement. But then he has already shown a number of times that his own vision of how to do things is not entirely in line with Xavier and his students.

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
Madelyne tuts at the mention of army men, letting a soft sigh of feigned exasperation pass her lips.

"See? I should have known that. I have so much to learn. This is why it's important for us to spend more time together," she croons playfully, like the notion of them spending time 'bonding' was utterly ridiculous, but there's complicated layers of emotions in those words.

On one hand, it's continuing that light, tongue-in-cheek banter. It's a joke. She's obviously not about to rush out and buy him a set of men's pajamas. She equally must not mean she intends to spend gobs of time with him going forward.

Except...

Except there's something in her expression and the way her voice curls around those words -- the faintest edge of... regret. Longing.

She's been the one to stay away from him these last few days, yet in that moment, it almost seems like she felt like she was doing it for his benefit. Or... maybe that's reading too much into it. Or maybe Madelyne's just being a manipulative bitch like she can sometimes be.

The woman found out she was a clone with part of a cosmic Phoenix living inside her who people randomly decide to try to kidnap or kill. She's learned to survive on her own. She's learned to protect herself -- physically and emotionally. Who knows what she's actually feeling?

She's still moving closer to the workbench, but it's a slow thing, like one cat tentatively approaching the other. Not sensual or suggestive. Not even necessarily afraid. Just... careful. Respectful of existing in his space and intruding on his time.

You okay?

The question makes her lips curl into a soft, warm smile as she slips past him, crossing behind him, to end up at his other side.

It puts her back to the wall rather than the door when she faces him and gives her an empty-ish spot at the workbench to lean one hip as she folds her arms over her stomach.

"Always."

She says the word with such warm, absolute conviction, even though it's not even close to being true. In fact, she was close to being very not okay before he stepped in on Genosha.

Yet, here she stands. So... maybe it is true, on some level.

"Anything I can help with?"

She holds her hands up and wiggles her long, elegant fingers eagerly.

"Futuristic artillery weapons aren't exactly my specialty, but I'm a quick study if you need another pair of hands."

Cable has posed:
Certainly Cable doesn't give off a whole lot of playful vibes. That doesn't really seem to be the sort of level that he exists on, though judging from his retort about the pajamas, he is not incapable of dropping the serious future soldier bit from time to time when it feel appropriate.

There is probably not going to be play time in their future. There is probably not going to be snuggling on the couch. He's not going to be looking for her to make him a sack lunch while he goes off to play war. Those ships have sailed.

Still, it's hard not to take not of those little clues in her expression. The fact that while she isn't exactly serious, that there is a degree of regret there.

While he might have assured her that there is virtually no chance that she is his actual mother, some part of her still wishes for that sort of connection. Maybe she still wonders if her real life was somehow stolen from her. Maybe the idea of having a child, some part of her out there, just awoke something inside of her.

So at her offer, he lifts his gaze and considers her for a moment, looking her over thoughtfully. Then he motions to the stool on the other side of the workbench as he crisply finishes off another of those weapons, getting everything squared away and setting the weapon aside.

"Watch this one. I'll take it slow," the white haired soldier says quietly, starting through that process of checking, cleaning and changing the power core on that weapon, but doing so more slowly this time, sometimes twisting the weapon in his hand so she can see.

Does he actually need the help? Probably not. Chances are he could be finished before she does more then one or two to help things along. But she is showing an interest, reaching out in a way. And apparently Cable is willing to take that for what it is.

Still, he does eye her askance when she insists that she's fine, everything's fine, now and always. He is probably well aware of the events in New York as well but he doesn't push it.

It is the contrast between himself, between X-Force, and Charles Xavier and the X-Men. The Dream versus the War. The open hand versus the closed fist.

Unlike that man who's name he shares in part, he doesn't believe that approaching everyone with the intent to be their friend, to be open and honest and accepting is always enough. Sometimes you have to be willing to strike back.

Sometimes you have to be willing to strike first when you know they're going to lash out.

But just as the open palm can be used to slap, the closed fist can be used to shelter as well. To protect.

There are very few absolutes in life. To be sure, the evil that is Apocalypse would seem to qualify in Cable's eyes. But not much else.

Apparently, he also remains open to the possibility that the woman who would have been his mother in this reality if things had been different might not turn out the same way as she did in his own timeline.

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
The look Nathan gets in response to her insistence that she's fine is something between a question and a taunt.

'What?' it seems to ask. 'Would you rather I elaborate on every nuance of my feelings? Or would you rather clean guns?'

She is okay -- as okay as she ever is.

She's more okay than when Lorna Dane found her and whisked her away to Genosha, leaving those dead men on the sidewalk.

She's more okay than when Nathan helped her out of that psychic prison of raging fire in the tunnels after their escape.

She's even more okay than when they had that very awkward conversation about who exactly she was to him and she subsequently said she needed some space, got up, and walked out -- not to be seen again until this very moment.

Of course, compared to most other people on the planet, she's probably not all that 'okay.' There's that constant undercurrent of anger that wants to boil over to rage, that wants to be given an excuse to be let out. That thirst for power, to push herself, to do more, be more, take more.

It does begin to seem as though the Madelyne Pryors of the multiverse are on a path that's difficult to turn away from, though -- even when there isn't a baby involved. Maybe there is a universe in which Maddie winds up happy... or at least not a true monster. Maybe it's even this one. Time will tell.

Watch this one...

Some stiffness Maddie didn't even realize she'd been holding in her shoulders seems to bleed away. It wasn't exactly as if she'd served up her heart on a platter, but there was another moment of vulnerability in the question -- a request that went beyond cleaning weapons.

It was, thankfully, a subtlety he seemed to pick up on.

And, as instructed, she watches. She leans ever so slightly to get a better look, and when it seems like she's seen enough, she grabs one for herself to work on.

As predicted, she's no expert on her first one. There's more inspecting than there is cleaning, but it keeps her hands busy. And maybe she only does one herself, but it was never really about that, anyway. She's showing an interest in something that's important to him.

She's trying.

"So..."

Because, let's face it, they weren't going to get through this task in absolute silence. She must have a million questions that range from selfish (wanting to know more about what she was like and who made her) to strategic (questions about the MLF, Stryfe, the people after her) to purely curious about the man beside her.

There's a lot they could talk about.

Maybe some of it they should talk about.

"...Why the stables?"

Or she could avoid anything even remotely important.

"Did they just happen to have this space open and available? Or were you like... I could take one of the rooms in the school, but what I've always wanted is to live under a bunch of horses?"

And yes, there's that humor that lingers, but it's muted. Conversational. A search for something to talk about that isn't so heavy.

Cable has posed:
Again, it feels like Cable is perhaps more willing to cut her some slack then others might be, if only because he knows the way of violence. He might be wary of her outbursts, those shows of rage, of that fire that burns inside of her, the fire he has seen first hand in her mind.

But he is very much a believer in the value of violence. In making sure that enemies do not have the chance to hurt those who are important to him. That turning the other cheek only encourages more of the same while a solid beating is not an inappropriate response when wronged.

Still, he's no sure how 'okay' someone can be when they are raging in front of cameras, no matter how justified. He's not sure how 'okay' someone is when they claim to be the woman they are cloned from.

There is still a certain wariness there, that occasional askance look that is returned in turn by her. But he doesn't seem to feel the need to push her on it either. No doubt she'll hear from others about the dangers of her actions. At provoking people with visceral attacks that are captured on camera. On the hostility it could bring down, not just on her, but the people around her.

"Cleaning guns suits me well enough," the future soldier says simply as he finishes that initial demonstration, as he sets up one of those hulking plasma weapons in front of her to give her a chance to work.

"Just keep in mind that sooner or later someone is going to want to talk about it," Cable points out drily, already starting into his neck weapon, disassembling it with that practiced hand before he goes to work. "They do like their talkity talk around these parts," he points out sardonically. He's a little more into action himself, but hey, whatever floats their boat, right?

Still, she does appear to be a little more composed then the last time he saw her. Understandable perhaps. Despite what happened in New York she's had a few days to digest things, a few days to come to terms with what happened with the Mutant Liberation Front, a few days to come to terms with what he shared with her.

He's not big on putting himself in the shoes of another person. He doesn't want to see things from his enemies' perspective. He wants to kill his enemy before they kill him. And if he really needs to see things through their eyes, well, he is a telepathy too, despite the limitations the techno-organic virus that ravages through him might inflict. But he suspects that given all the recent revelations Madelyne Pryor has been dealing with, she probably is about as okay as can be expected.

He doesn't seem concerned that she takes longer then him to tackle the weapon in front of her. Indeed, he is finishing off his third weapon in the same time she's just wrapping up her first. But then the way he moves, the way he doesn't even need to look at what he is doing suggests he probably could go through this entire processed blindfolded and hardly miss a beat. Muscle memory can be an amazing thing.

So when she feels the need to break the silence, to find something to discuss, Cable is hardly surprised, and he smiles briefly, a small shrug rippling across those incredibly broad shoulders. "It's what they had available after Greymalkin was destroyed and after the MLF took Madripoor," he admits.

"And I suspect my tendency to attract trouble might have had something to do with it. If someone comes looking for me, better that the stables get blown up then the mansion, right?" he adds pragmatically.

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
I suspect my tendency to attract trouble might have had something to do with it.

"Oh, so you do have Pryor DNA," Madelyne asides flippantly, her smile widening in amusement, eyes briefly cutting towards him.

... better that the stables get blown up then the mansion, right?

There's a beat of silence after that as Madelyne's hands go still and she seems to really dwell on it -- a deep realization that she apparently hadn't even considered.

"... Now I actually feel a little bad about staying in the mansion," she says after that moment, not even looking up from the weapon she holds.

Another beat passes, along with a small shrug.

"But only a little."

There's a tick of a wry grin at the corner of her mouth, those emerald eyes finally cutting over to the man beside her. It's no secret that she doesn't particularly like the mansion, but for better or worse, it has been her 'home' for the last few days.

Plus, it's filled with innocent children.

But what are the chances the MLF would think she's hiding inside Xavier's? And even if they did, what are the chances they would come for her there? It's a suicide mission. Especially when she's apparently given them other opportunities -- like Times Square -- to nab her without having to contend with a school full of teachers and students, most of whom are fully capable of defending themselves.

She finally sets the rifle she was working on down -- not aside, but in front of Cable as he's finishing his third so that he can go back over her work.

"For what it's worth," she begins, her voice softened with sincerity, those emerald eyes trained on Cable's face -- willing to open herself to him, willing to let him see for himself, "I didn't go there to hurt anyone. I was just out getting some air."

A muscle in her jaw tenses as she clenches her teeth, just for a moment.

"I don't know why I seem to be a lightning rod for all the bullshit the universe wants to throw at me. I assume it has something to do with Jean. Something to do with this... Essex. Sinister. Whatever his name is. Something to do with being a mutant. Something to do with whatever the hell a Phoenix Fragment is."

She picks up a rag and wipes her hands with it.

"And now something to do with that woman -- Tempo -- knowing what I can do. I assume she's the one that told all of her little friends about me. And now you see why I leave all the 'good guy' crap to the good guys."

Another beat. A little shake of her head.

"Good guys have friends."

The rag is dropped on the workbench, and Madelyne steps away from it again, ambling toward the array of security screens instead. On the way by, she brushes a hand across Nathan's hair, a carelessly affectionate gesture that doesn't linger.

"I have to find a way to get back to something resembling a normal life," she murmurs. "Not that I've ever had anything like that -- apparently in any reality -- but that's always been the goal, you know? A stable life... a family..."

She leaves her back to Nathan as she surveys the monitors. It's not like she expects to spot an MLF invasion, but like the weapon, it gives her something to focus on.

"I can't hide in this school forever like some..."

She blows out a breath.

"I don't know."

Cable has posed:
Honestly, if he was objective, Cable would probably have to concede that his tendency to find trouble could come from both sides of his heritage.

After all, it is not as if the Summers side of his family is exactly known for living quiet, peaceful lives either.

Still, at her quip the grizzled future soldier offers up a thin smile. "That might have something to do with it," he allows.

As she pauses to reflect on the possibility that staying in the mansion might be wrong, not just because of the discomfort it brings her, but also the possibility that it could endanger the inhabitants, Cable casually begins to survey her work on that futuristic rifle.

"Don't," he offers up quietly. "The chances of anyone going after you there is pretty slight. If the MLF was willing to confront an entire school full of Mutants -- and knew about this place -- they would just go for trying to rescue Stryfe directly," he asserts.

"You might not be comfortable here, but for the moment it is probably about the safest place you can be," he asserts quietly.

It's not an ideal situation for anyone. Not her, not the people playing host to her. But sometimes you just need to make due.

Cable is pretty big on making due.

He doesn't lift his gaze away from checking her work as she asserts that she didn't go looking for trouble. He just nos his head in apparent acceptance of that fact. "Wouldn't imagine you did. The unfortunate truth is that whatever is inside of you is always going to be a danger. To yourself and to the people around you. Finding a way to control it instead of letting it control you might just do you a world of good," he offers up conversationally.

He finally lifts his gaze towards her, giving a little approving nod as he lifts that rifle up in front of him and sets it with the others. It would seem that she's passed the test. Both with that weapon and maybe with Cable himself.

"You might find that you have more friends then you think," he offers up quietly. He doesn't react to her familiar touch, though he doesn't recoil either. Instead he briefly allows a troubled expression to linger on his features.

"I'm not sure that you're going to find it very easy to live a normal life Madelyne," he admits quietly.

She might not be his mother. Not really. But he has a pretty good hunch that somethings are true no matter what dimension they might find themselves in.

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
adelyne smiles a bit at his acquiescence about having her blood -- or at least some version of her blood -- in his veins. She doesn't know anything about the Summers family. Maybe the notion would be less amusing to her if she did.

...but for the moment it is probably about the safest place you can be.

"I'm... finding ways to pass the time."

That's an understatement. Maybe she doesn't even suspect he knows about Kurt. After all, it isn't as if they've spoken, and she and Kurt hadn't really been parading around the grounds together since that moment by the lake.

You might find that you have more friends then you think.

Would that have been true two weeks ago?

She knew people, but were they her friends? Lorna? Magnus? Fabian? They each offered to help her, in their own ways, but could she say she could call on them -- reliably -- if she needed help? Could she talk to them when she was feeling down? Did she really know anything at all about them?

Was there anyone in her life that she could have said that about?

Not really.

But now?

Now there's Cable. And Emma. Longshot. And Kurt...

She's never had anyone like Kurt in her life before. He's not just her friend. He's... more. So much more, in such a short time. He makes her heart flutter every time she so much as thinks about him. And it's not just her heart that ties itself into knots...

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
I'm not sure that you're going to find it very easy to live a normal life Madelyne.

"What do you think about Kurt?"

The words are spilling past her lips before common sense can stop them, blurted out so quickly that they're almost tripping over each other on her tongue.

"Nightcrawler... I mean..."

Her voice is quieter, and she manages to feign more disinterest than the first time. But there's still an edge to the words. Too much interest. Too much curiosity. Too much investment for it just to be a casual question.

She doesn't dare give herself space to dwell on the consequences of that question -- that she's asking her son from some other timeline about a man that isn't his father. But then, Nathan knows better than anyone how well a relationship with Scott worked out for her in the long run.

But maybe she's not asking about him in that way!

Maybe she just wants to know if he likes playing cards... or something...

As if the guilty conscience gets the better of her, she actually turns to glance back over her shoulder.

Cable has posed:
With only a solitary plasma rifle left in front of him, Cable seems to turn his attention to that, just as methodical as before, seemingly not impatient to get done with this less than stimulating but nevertheless essential task.

The rifle practically comes apart like magic -- and to some extent maybe there is some magic involved given how the separated parts float close by, near at hand until they're ready. Not true magic, but his telekinesis might as well qualify to anyone who can't do what they do.

In moments the various pieces are inspected and oiled, they have any little work needed down and the various parts of the rifle are snapping back into place, a quiet hum sounding in the otherwise quiet room as the power pack is fitted back into place, the little glowing indicator light flashing on one side to suggest that a full charge of power is being received.

He's not wrong of course. Xavier's grounds is about the safest place for her. At least for her physical wellbeing. No one is going to come after her here. Not unless they are crazy at least.

But in some ways it isn't physical danger that is the greatest threat to Madelyne Pryor. In many ways Cable knows better then most -- maybe better then anyone -- just how tenuous her mental well being might truly be. Just how easy it would be for things to go wrong. To take a turn that they all might inevitably end up regretting.

It seems safe to say it won't be the same. It seems unlikely that she's destined to become involved with Scott Summers. That his 'father' in this reality will abandon her. He won't exist -- not as a baby at least -- to serve as some sort of prize in the game between Sinister and Apocalypse. The loss of him won't be able to be used against her.

But he has seen the rage in her mind. Some of that might very well come from the fragment of the Phoenix Force that burns inside of her. But Cable suspects only some of it. Some of that fire, some of that rage felt very much like it came from Maddie herself. And unleashed it could be a terribly thing.

But they are in uncharted territory here. So much about what he knows about his Madelyne Pryor just might not apply to her. Warnings that he might give lack context, relevance.

Cable has posed:
More, Cable doesn't know just how much good it would do. She might have too many people already trying to tell her what she is... or what she isn't for that matter.

If he is taken aback by her question about a certain fuzzy blue elf he gives no sign of it, though as he sets that last rifle aside, he does glance her way with a frankly assessing look. There doesn't seem to be any judgement there and it seems unlikely that he actually knows anything -- the X-Men probably wouldn't look favorably on him bugging their private quarters afterall and he seems extremely cautious about using his telepathy.

But that look certainly suggests he understands why she's asking those questions.

"He's helped out a number of times while my team and I have been dealing with Stryfe and his followers," he says frankly. "I don't think he has great appreciation for my methods.," he concedes. "But he's saved a lot of people working with us. That's always going to be his priority. Doing what's right, even when it might not be what serves the big picture as well as doing what's necessary," he adds quietly.

"But he's a good man. Morally good, yes. But loyal and dependable when the chips are down too."

He doesn't say it, but it hangs there in the air for a moment, unspoken.

'You could do worse'.

Madelyne Pryor has posed:
Yeah, fine. Maybe that is why she's asking. But it's not exactly like she's lousy with people she trusts to ask these kinds of questions of.

Of course, it isn't like Maddie didn't dig into Kurt's mind when he allowed it. It wasn't like she was going into their relationship completely blind. But it also isn't like a few isolated moments of hearing Kurt's thoughts or discerning his intentions is enough to build an entire profile of the man.

It helps to hear what he's like around other people, too. And she's not exactly on speaking terms with the other X-Men. She might have thrown Logan into the side of his own truck hard enough to leave a Wolverine-shaped dent in it.

Madelyne nods at the assessment, not taking her eyes off of Nathan while he's speaking. It isn't until the end -- until that last unspoken addition -- that she turns her attention back to the security feeds and gives a little nod that moves her hair around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she offers, and though her back is to him, it's just barely possible to hear the smile that curls her lips. "That's good to know."

She doesn't belabor the point.

In fact, she lets a few beats of silence hang in the air before turning back to him again, her arms folding across her stomach.

"I want to do what I can to help you. I know I mentioned it before.. that with Stryfe's people coming after me, forcing me to hide in this godforsaken school, that I'd want to do what I can. It's apparently my fight, too, now. But, it's more than that..."

There's a little roll of her shoulders.

"I haven't had a lot of direction, up to this point. I've been trying to figure out what my purpose is, and I get that I'm probably not your..."

She makes a little gesture with her hand, like she can't quite bring herself to say it, now. With the time that's passed since they first talked about it, it feels... silly... to even think it might be possible at all.

"I saw what I looked like in your memories. I don't know how I could have gotten to that point. But I feel like I have an opportunity... if not to atone for what that version of me did, at least to do something meaningful now. It seems ridiculous to throw it away."

She takes in a breath and lets it out slowly.

"So, sincerely... if there's anything I can do to help... with Stryfe, with cleaning guns..." A little grin tugs at her lips. "...with doing what's necessary... you know how to find me. Okay?"