Moira looked at the group in the Danger Room. Peter looked like someone had suddenly poured a bucket of ice water on him. It was a severe look of shock, of discomfort, but that wasn't dangerous.
What was dangerous was the fact that Scott was looking furiously after Hank, his fists clenching and unclenching.
"What did he mean?" asked Scott.
Charles didn't answer.
"What did he mean!?" demanded Scott.
Moira swallowed hard and walked behind Charles, one hand on his shoulder. He blinked, as though startled back into the room.
"Charles," she murmured.
He glanced at her, and then looked at Scott, who was seemed torn. Jean came up to him, put a quiet hand on his arm, but he shook her off. Instead, his eyes were riveted on Charles, searching for answers.
Just like everyone had looked to him for answers for the past twenty years, probably longer. Moira blinked at the realization, and met Scott's eyes. That look had been the same way in Alex's eyes years ago, in Raven's at one point, Hank's, Sean's, even Erik's. They had all wanted answers to everything from him.
She had been there too, asking him about mutants, trying to improve her case at the CIA. How many questions did he have weighing on him, ones he couldn't answer? But this wasn't a question he could avoid, and it was one he had an answer to.
It was just unpleasant.
"I had established mental contact with Erik," said Charles, "Nur used that to find us, to come for me."
"And Alex went after him," Raven finished, "It didn't go well."
Scott's fists clenched.
"Then Erik can go to hell," he said.
"He had no idea that would happen," said Charles, "He had no idea Alex would take that shot, that the plane was behind the door, that-"
"So what!" snapped Scott.
Peter got up next to him, his legs looking shaky. The more Moira looked at him, the more worried she became. He was obviously struggling with something, but what? And why? As far as she knew, he hadn't had that much contact with Erik.
He'd all but tip-toed around him when they were in Cairo. Admittedly, he'd had a broken leg, so it was difficult to tip-toe, but he'd always been so nervous around him, and then resigned.
"Dude, you can't blame everyone for everything," Peter muttered.
"Yeah, but he shouldn't have brought him here in the first place!" Scott said.
His voice was reaching the level of a shout, and Kurt was shrinking away. Raven's eyes were on him now, closely examining his reaction. Given his body language, Moira suspected it had more to do with the raised voices than anything he was hearing.
And it didn't look like that was going to end anytime soon.
"He knew...and did I get that right?" asked Scott, "He came here and helped Nur kidnap the Professor? I thought you two were supposed to go way back or something!"
"If you're going to blame him, then you should blame me too!" said Storm.
"Did you know what you were getting into with Nur?" snapped Scott, "Really know?"
Storm hesitated. Moira knew the girl wanted to say yes, to defiantly stake a position. But she had to think, because Moira knew that wasn't a question you answered in haste. She wanted to give it due consideration, to remember if, with every death, she had truly expected it.
And, in other circumstances, that would be a good thing. But, at the moment, it was giving Scott an opening.
"So you didn't," he snapped, "I'll bet everything he did!"
"Scott!" Jean said.
She stepped forward, put her hands on each side of his face. He looked at her hands, then back into her face.
"I know what Alex meant to you," she said, "I know you're hurting but, Scott, not like this."
Scott blinked at her for a minute, then put his hands on her wrists. Moira thought that, maybe, he was calming down, but he just gently took them off his face, looking away so he was looking at Charles.
"You don't get it Jean," he said, "I'm sorry, but you don't."
He let go of her hands and took a step toward Charles.
"You told me Alex was one of the best people you knew," he said, "But you're totally cool with letting someone who helped kill him back in?"
"It's not like that," Charles said, "He didn't kill your brother and, when it came down to it, he risked his life for us. And...Scott, everyone deserves a second chance."
Scott gave him a long look, then shook his head and turned.
"Sorry Professor," he said, "But it sounds like you gave him plenty of second chances, and he only came through once."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Scott stormed out of the room. Jean put her hand out, but he dodged it, ducking his head.
"Scott!" Charles said.
It sounded weaker than the call he'd used to beg Hank to come back, more defeated. Jean started to follow, her eyes wide, but Scott shook his head firmly before speeding up. Jean stopped, pained, and Moria bit her lip as Scott disappeared out of the Danger Room.
She took a deep breath, and then turned. The rest of the team was looking at Charles, all except Raven. There was something sharp in her eyes, as though she expected Moira to join in, tell her brother he was making a mistake, push him down further.
And yes, part of her did. Hank's reservations about Erik were her own, and yet...
She put her hand to her forehead, trying to calm down.
"Everyone," she said, "I think we need to go back to the facts. He's on his way. We're going to be working with him. We are in a tight corner, and we need to recognize that."
"What about Scott?" asked Jean, "About Dr. McCoy?"
"We'll...leave that to us," Moira said, "I think we can all agree that this meeting is over."
The teens looked at each other, clearly troubled. Storm averted her gaze before falling in line next to Peter. Again, he wasn't even looking at them. It was like he was locked inside his own thoughts.
Moira watched him go, and then realized Raven was watching Peter too. She raised her eyebrows, and Raven gave a lazy, half-shoulder shrug. It was then that Moira realized that, unlike the rest of the team, she wasn't moving.
"Raven," Moira said.
Raven looked irritated. Was it her use of her first name? Perhaps it was a little presumptuous on her part, but she knew it hurt Charles to see her called Mystique. The two had never really gotten along, but she'd hoped they'd be able to change that, especially with the baby on the way.
But she didn't think it would happen that night.
"Yes?" asked Raven.
"The meeting's over," said Moira.
Raven crossed her arms.
"I need to talk to my brother," she said.
"You could say the same thing for me," said Moira.
"Right," said Raven, "Is it about Erik?"
"Of course it is," said Moira.
Golden eyes regarded her for a minute, and then she snorted.
"Right," she said, "You barely knew him. I don't imagine you're going to be helpful."
Again, she touched her fingertips to her forehead. A headache was starting to throb there.
"Moira?"
She looked over her shoulder. Charles looked up at her, his eyes fixed on her pleadingly. She knew the question even before it came.
"You...you don't think that, do you?" he asked.
In that moment, seeing the pain in his eyes, she wanted to tell him something to soothe that look. She wanted to tell him that he was right, that she didn't have any doubts about Erik. Moira wanted to tell him that he was right in believing what he did, that no part of her thought he was being foolish.
But she wasn't going to lie to him. So, instead, she walked over to him, knelt in front of his chair. Gently, she took one of his hands and put it to her throat. He looked at her questioningly for a moment, and then she guided his fingers so they his traced the path where a necklace might lie.
There was a question on his lips, but she could tell he was trying to figure it out for himself. His eyes suddenly lit up in understanding. It was the same path where dog tags had once almost choked the air out of her lungs, twisted by Erik on a beach where he'd lost his temper.
"I admit," she said, "I find it hard to forget. I...the only thing in my mind was getting to you, to helping, to see how bad you were hurt...and then I couldn't breathe. I didn't know what was happening at first, and then I looked and..."
She shook her head, trying to forget everything that she'd seen that afternoon, everything she'd felt. Her memories of what had happened directly after were hazy, she'd been oxygen deprived, but she remembered the realization that Erik had only let go because Charles had asked. If he hadn't been able to, if the pain had been too much, she would've died.
And they both knew it.
"Moira..." he murmured.
"He didn't even think before he did it," Moira said, "He just, turned, and I saw my death in his eyes."
His fingers traced her neck softer now, weaker. Was he remembering his own fear that day? His own pain. Perhaps it was something that he was afraid of, afraid of drowning in all that had gone wrong.
"But," Moira said.
She reached out and took his hand.
"I let him go in Cairo," she said, "Because...I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure if the man I was looking at was the same one who had nearly strangled me on that beach because he wanted to hurt someone. I didn't know and I...I didn't want to get it wrong."
She squeezed his hand.
"But you knew," she said, "For better or for worse, you knew."
Moira looked down at his fingers, trying to find the words.
"I can say that I'm willing to trust that he isn't coming here with the intent to hurt us, that he won't betray us if he can help it," she said, "And...in a practical sense, we'll probably need him."
She felt his fingertips touch her face, and she managed a smile.
"You never stop loving Charles, never stop caring," Moira said, "And I...well, I know some people might call it naive. But, that was what I always loved about you. No matter what happened, you never stopped. And I can't...I can't get mad at you for the thing that made me fall for you in the first place."
Softly, she kissed the back of his hand. Moira held it for a minute longer before getting up.
"And, while, at the end of the day, I don't trust him," she said, "I do trust you. And so do Hank and Scott. You just need to give them time to think, maybe talk to them."
She was almost fully standing before Charles reached out and gripped her shoulder. She looked at him, surprised, before he pulled her closer and kissed her. Moira gasped softly, but returned the kiss, one of her hands resting on his cheek.
I love you, I love you so much, he said, And...thank you for understanding.
I love you too, she murmured.
He released her again, and she managed another smile.
"I think I have to go put Kevin to bed," she said, "I'll see you soon?"
"Yes, of course," Charles said.
She nodded, and headed for the door. Raven gave her a side look as she went by.
"That was...unexpected," Raven said reluctantly.
Moira didn't slow down.
"You say I barely knew Erik," she said, "I'd argue you barely knew me."