Chapter 11:

Earlier the previous night:

The sound of the doorbell jerked Moira out of her thoughts as she paced back and forth in the front room of her home. Normally, this wouldn't have been odd; however, it was, after all, the middle of the night. No one would visit at this hour, unless...

"Frankie?!" she thought hopefully, as she eagerly threw open the door, "Oh…"

"Me again, but try not to look so disappointed." her visitor chuckled weakly.

"Charles, do you want to come in and tell me what's really going on here?" she huffed in frustration, "First, Frankie running away, and now...now I've seen you multiple times already. And...are you walking?"

"Yes, I can see there are a few questions that need answering, aren't there…" he noted, "For starters, I would love to be here for this conversation, but I'm not actually here at all. What you're seeing is a telepathic projection."

"A wh-"

"Before you ask," he continued, "I'm showing up like this, because of a question that simply can't wait any longer."

"We'll talk inside." Moira said, closing the door and walking to her kitchen to find the image of Charles waiting there for her.

"I know what an intrusion this must be, but I needed to-"

"Ask a question?" Moira questioned, finishing the statement, "You mentioned that, but I have questions too, you know."

She crossed her arms nervously, as she unknowingly began pacing again.

"You have questions about your daughter, as you should, but…" He began, "I'm afraid I don't have the answers about Frankie. You know more the most important answer in any of this. Only you."

"And what answer is that?" Moira scoffed, only becoming more stressed with the cryptic situation.

"Who is that girl's father, Moira?" he asked sternly.

"I already told you that it wasn't important. He was as average as they come, and he's out of the picture," she answered.

"I know that's what you told me, and I know that you're lying." he sighed, "Has it yet occurred to you that if you're seeing me, I'm already in your head? Now, I know from my telepathic communication with Francesca that her powers came when she was nine."

"It's possible, I suppose…"

"Not if her father was human. Very rarely has any first generation mutation ever developed before the individual was a teenager or nearing that age. To become so powerful a telepath, beginning at such a young age, is something I have only ever seen once."

"So, this has happened before? Who was it?" Moira wondered.

"Well, to put it simply: me." Charles answered, "Now, I can find this answer myself, but I would prefer not to do that, so...are you going to tell me?"

In a split second, Moira froze, telepathically stilled until Charles could decipher the answer for himself.

"You don't remember who her father was..." he mumbled to himself as he discovered it.

A sudden pang of guilt hit him harder than anything he had felt in a long time.

"Because your memories were taken away," he sighed in realization, "I'm the reason you don't know."

"Moira," Charles asked, knowing that she couldn't hear or answer him right now, as serious as ever, putting emphasis between every word, "Is she mine?"

He searched into the suppressed memories that he had hidden from her for her own safety.

"Yes?" he said, as though still processing the answer, "My daughter…"

His face read a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"I have a daughter, but...you couldn't tell me about her. You didn't even know," he sighed, "This is all my fault."

Moira continued her movement and thoughts, completely unaware of Charles's discovery.

"Moira?" Charles asked, "Did you have reason to suspect that she was, in fact, a mutant. Before now, I mean."

"I had my suspicions. She always seemed to know what everyone was feeling and...and when people lied to her. I never wanted to keep that hidden. I just...I only wanted what was best for her! I only wanted to give her her best chance!"

"You wanted her to have the best chance at a normal life…" Charles realized, "You wanted her life to be normal, because you didn't want to believe that she wasn't."

"I just wanted her to be happy, so I tried to build this whole life around her." Moira replied, speaking mostly to herself at this point, "And that's what pushed her away. Isn't it?"

"Not if we can still help her." Charles said hopefully, "She hasn't been pushed away. Not yet. She's only scared."

"I find that hard to believe," she sighed, "Frankie's always been the strong one in this family. She's never been afraid of anything. I was always the one who was scared for her."

"She's good; I'll giver her that." Charles noted, "Even so, I've felt the fear that she's hiding. The idea of a normal life was lost to her years ago."

"Oh, this is all my fault!"

"We can still fix this, but this time we'll have to work together. She needs you, but she also needs those who can help you to understand her. I have the distinct advantage of knowing how she feels. Moira, all she wants is to not feel alone."

"She's never been alone," Moira defended, "I've always tried to be here for her, but she kept this from me and isolated herself. I must have done something or…"

Charles put a reassuring hand on her shoulder -even if it was only in her head- as her voice trailed off.

"You want what's best for her, and I can help, so let me help her," he offered again.

"I don't know about this…" she pondered, "If she's already scared and confused, how is throwing strangers into the mix going to help her feel better?"

"Because she'll know the truth about herself and about who and what she is." he encouraged, "She'll know why she is the way that she is. I can help her through this and teach her how to manage this."

"I know a sales pitch when I hear it, but a mutant school isn't for her, Charles. All I want is for her to come home safe," Moira decided, "If you can make that happen, great. If not, I'll try and fix this alone. Now, you're reaching my mind here, while in New York, so I assume you can find her however you're doing this?"

"Yes."

"Then find her, and I'll go to her and try again."

"Moira, if this doesn't work, I do wish you would consider letting me help. At least, tell her the truth...or you should," he pleaded, resigning to her request, "She's right outside of Washington D.C. in the house we visited previously."

"Good, I'll go and-"

"Be careful." he warned, "She'll be with Peter. He's a good boy overall, but he's also known to be reckless and impulsive, and he's not humanity's biggest fan. Also, he's a complete pain in the-"

"I get it."

With that he vanished, and Moira was left alone again as she resumed her pacing. There wasn't much that could be done until tomorrow, but at least she knew Frankie was safe inside somewhere with "friends".

Peter stirred awake a few hours after convincing Frankie to go back to sleep. It took him a second to remember why he was back in his own bed, but the sight of Frankie fast asleep reminded him. She was curled up snugly against his side, face hidden behind a veil of messy, slept-on waves of hair. He grinned thinking that it was probably the cutest thing he'd ever seen. One part of him was more than a little disappointed that she was still asleep; after all, what would he do until she woke up? The other part of him knew that she probably appreciated the sleep and he should leave her alone to sleep as long as she needed.

For the following half an hour, he sat on the edge of the bed trying to decide what to do until she was awake and they could do stuff. He couldn't leave the house, because what if she woke up and he wasn't there? Would she be mad? Scared? Lonely? No, leaving the house wasn't an option. She was also in his room, so the TV, Ping Pong table, and just about everything else down there would be too loud and wake her. Bugging Wanda was out of the question. It was Saturday, and no one was brave enough to wake her on a Saturday. Maybe he would just go for a run.

"Yeah, that'll work!" he thought victoriously to himself, "I'll run laps around the neighborhood or something. If she needs me, I'd be back in no time!"

He looked at the clock.

"10:03." he noted to himself, "I'll come back and check on her at 10:45."

With that thought, he grabbed his shoes, headphones, and goggles, and took one last look over his shoulder at Frankie before taking off. He launched himself out the front door and sped down the street. Music blared through his headphones as he enjoyed the feeling of freedom that he always got when he could just simply run. After the first few laps around the neighborhood, he slowed down a bit to take in certain details. One of his neighbors was out watering plants, but at peter's speed the water didn't look like it was moving at all.

"Boring." he thought, moving on to the next thing, and then the next, and the next, "Arguing neighbors. Boring. Cute Dog. Boring. A bunch of normal slow people. Really boring!"

He finally elected to just keep running. It felt as though he just let time and reality get away from him, and he loved the feeling. Often on days like this, running was just time to think. Unlike other times, however, he wasn't thinking about his family or what he wanted to do that day or what trouble he was going to get into. All he could think about was Frankie. This wasn't shocking to him, because she had been the only thing on his mind for days now. since this all started, she was all he wanted to think about.

"Oh, this is bad!" he scolded himself, realizing the extent of the massive crush he had on this girl, "We're friends. She's your friend. Don't be creepy! Acting creepy makes you weird, and weird pushes people away."

He found himself stuck on that thought.

"I guess that's what I'm good at anyway: being weird and pushing people away. But…if she was gonna leave like everyone else, wouldn't she have done it by now? She stayed anyway. Holy crap! She actually stayed!"

He felt a huge smile grow on his face, but he didn't care about stopping it.

"Do not screw this up for anything!" he thought, almost begging himself, "Please! Just. Don't. Be. Weird. How hard could that be?"

His thoughts we derailed by something he had missed before now. Out on the sidewalk, there was a couple walking together. He slowed down to see them, smile fading as he watched. There was no way that he was more than wind to them, but they didn't seem to have cared anyway. They were nearly frozen there, hand in hand, smiling and happy...together. For some reason, it made him sad. He'd never given any real thought to couples like that. Mutants were scarce and humans were boring, so he never had something like that. After all, he had family. So, why did it make him feel so lonely now? He shook his head and shrugged it off. It didn't matter. He didn't need anyone like that. No one would ever really understand him or keep up with him anyway.

Knowing that he had already lost track of the laps he'd taken and the time,he figured it was probably time to head back. He skidded to a halt at his door, looking back proudly at the trail of dust kicked up from the driveway. Once inside, he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, immediately emptied it, and crept quietly downstairs. Frankie was still asleep, so he didn't miss anything. He was sure she'd wake up soon enough now. He took another quick look at the clock.

"SERIOUSLY?!" he screamed internally.

10:05.

It was going to be a long morning!