WARNING: SPOILERS FOR FIRST CLASS, DOFP AND APOCALYPSE.

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own X-men. All characters and rights belong to Marvel.

Brief introduction:

I am a first-time fanfiction writer, and was inspired to write this after Apocalypse. I enjoy the character dynamics, and feel that the latest three films have helped create interesting opportunities for character development. I appreciate any feedback to help me improve my writing, and do intend to update this when I can.

Kyarei x

"At the end of the day, all you need is hope and strength. Hope that it will get better; the strength to hold on until it does."

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters – Entrance

A glorious summer's day was underway as Moira McTaggart made her way up to the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters; and as she passed the gates she felt a weight lift of her mind. The events of the past few months felt like they were a distant nightmare and the plague that had devastated the rest of the world, appeared to have not tampered with the institute before her. Her eyes flickered to the large grounds as she heard the laughter and giggles of children playing sports, chatting, frolicking, enjoying the day. The stark comparison of the external structures, towns, homes, lives around the world that were struggling to return to normality struck her. The actions of Apocalypse and his horseman had certainly been detrimental to the progress of human/mutant relations. The hope and inspiration that Raven had given both species after she prevented the assassination of the President; felt more like a fairy tale. Now, the anger and desire for revenge has fuelled both riots on a public and political level; with demands for mutant registration being a daily occurrence.

As she drew closer to the front doors of the institute, she tried to shake off the morbid thoughts of what had happened, and focus on the serious purpose of her visit. Upon knocking on the grand oak doors, she barely had time to blink before the doors were opened before her revealing Peter Magnus looking in a bag, whipping out a folder and flicking through it faster than she could keep up with.

Startled and disbelieving, Moira spluttered out: "Peter? What're you-? Hey that's my bag, and that file is classified!"

The young man before her chuckled, handing her things back and retorting: " I knew hanging about here would keep things interesting. Nice to see you, the Professor is in his study doing his professoryness stuff I guess. Suppose I better try and beat my high score in Pacman before things get serious."

She blinked and he was gone. Sighing she made her way through her way through the school. She passed room after room filled with students; some silent as they completed their work, some captivated in debate, some being scolded for chatting away. She marvelled in the innocent nature of children, unaware of the chaos outside of these walls. As she ended the hallway, she approached double oak doors as a welcome voice echoed within her head: "Come in Moira."

She entered the warm room, lined with books from the owner's long career in education as both a student and now as a mentor himself. In the corner were leather brown couches, surrounding a coffee table which was littered with books and loose sheets of paper. A heartfelt chuckle came from behind the office desk before her. "Yes, my apologies for the mess; I have been busy of late. It is lovely to see you again; how have you been?"

Following Charles reveal after they had finally stopped Apocalypse, Moira found she was incapable of looking at him without feeling butterflies in her stomach and a very obvious blush coating her cheeks. Flashbacks of returned memories came to mind again as she saw him for the first time since that day in Cairo. Sun, sea, sand, ships, missiles, shouting, screaming, blood, a kiss. She found herself staring at the man that she once felt a great attraction towards. She appreciated how much he had changed since Cuba; his head once covered in long locks now completely bald after his encounter with Apocalypse. His once more casual attire, now replaced by the style suiting a professor; a blue suit, white shirt and silver tie. A welcoming smile a prominent feature of his face; but eyes darker and heavier than they should be for a man of his age betrayed his real feelings. The smile did not last long as she noticed a look of concern overcome him. These thoughts were interrupted by Charles reminding her that she was not alone.

"Moira, are you alright? Would you like to sit down?" he asked with concern.

"Sorry Charles, I'm fine. I've got news about the facility in Canada where Raven, Hank, Peter and I were held captive," Moira adopted a serious tone to distract her from the thoughts of Cuba.

Moira removed the file from her bag and placed it on Charles' desk for him to view. There were images of the facilities corridors that were blood speckled, but without the sources of said blood. Other images littered the desk of what appeared to be a cage coated in groups of knife marks; that looked more like the work of a beast than man. More images of a metal container filled with whatever; hanging above this were tubing and wires with syringes and attachments coming from them.

"Upon return to the CIA after Cairo, I informed them about the facility after my concerns over what may have been happening there. However, I think we were betrayed and they had a chance to clean over the site before we arrived."

"Any leads as to whom? Or what the true intention of the site was?" enquired Charles, looking as troubled as Moira.

"We don't know who is behind it I'm afraid. As for the facility's purpose, we're unsure. We found tools of torture, chemical and biological laboratories…." She trailed off slightly "But even more concerning than this; we found a suspicious looking X-ray of an arm which to our specialists looked like there had been a metallic graft placed upon the bones, labelled 'Weapon X'."

Charles eyes widened in shock "Sounds like an intense procedure – wonder if the unlucky individual survived…"

"We don't know Charles, but we will look into it and I'll get back to you," concluded Moira as she gathered the file and placed it back into her bag, straightened her suit jacket back out in preparation to leave. Charles struggled to hide the disappointment from his face as she made to leave so soon, but elected to respect her decision. His guilt at invading her mind, taking her memories before and judging her best interests for her still hurt him and he swore never to influence her again. "You're weak Charles…" hissed a familiar raspy voice; Charles mentally berated himself for not controlling his powers better and shook his head slightly.

Moira sighed before leaving, with one last glance at Charles and a slight smile. She struggled to verbalise her forgiveness or feelings for him; but after her brief visit she felt perhaps her feelings were unreciprocated.

Charles wheeled himself over to the window to watch her drive away; thoughts of what he should have said or should've done tortured him. Moira had more than disappeared off in the distance, when the school bell rang and shocked Charles out of his thoughts.

"X-men, can I see you all in my office please," Charles telepathically sent out to his team; he thought it best to keep them informed. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips to try and ease the headache which had been plaguing him more and more often lately. He could not allow himself to be weak; his team needed him. The world was in chaos, humans vs mutants. People needed mutants to be strong for each other; set a good example and demonstrate to the world that mutants have morally just and reprehensible people just like humans.

He needed to be strong; he had failed his friends too many times. Erik. Moira. Darwin. Sean. Angel. Raven. Hank. Alex. Jean. Scott.

Never again.