June 2, 1957
The fact of the matter was that it shouldn't have hurt. Charles had known Moira for two weeks, if that. It wasn't enough time to form a bond that would hurt this badly once it was gone. Admittedly she had been a wonderful person; witty, intelligent, beautiful, and understanding. If things were different he was sure he could see himself in hot pursuit. Still, it had been such a short time.
So why did it hurt? Why did he feel like he was losing something the day she left? Charles tried to rationalize it. He'd been feeling somewhat lost in the new political game he was playing. Too many people just shake thier heads when he argued that humans would accept them. Perhaps it was natural for him to cleave to someone he had met who shared his views, who wanted to make things better.
That was what he kept telling himself when he thought about it in any case, and he thought about it quite a bit. He began to wonder what she was doing about her and her daughter. He'd seen their first encounter through her eyes, been confirmed in the belief that people weren't forced into fight or flight. He wondered how she was doing in a world where people in her position, an understanding single woman with a mutant daughter, might not find the world as accepting as he would have it.
Charles shook his thoughts away and rubbed his temples. Whatever the reason, he knew that Moira was going to stay in his thoughts. There were, of course, other reasons why he should be thinking about her. These thoughts weren't as painful, weren't as puzzling, so he tended to dwell on them more, if he could help it.
For one, they had handed them a list with ten names on it. Most of the mutants on the island were European, so they had very few relatives that they believed could be found in America. Those that had had written down the names and sent a sealed letter to tell thier loved ones where they were.
Bringing them back was going to be a difficult task for the CIA. It was a sign of goodwill though, something to back up the assertion that the MRD wasn't a government creation. If they would willingly hand over mutants, and the relatives of mutants, then they would have some proof.
The organization in Russia hadn't been with the government, so it was likely that the MRD wasn't. Charles was puzzled how people could have both the hate and the resources required to do a private capture of mutants. It seemed to have too many factors to have been an overnight operation. Someone had been planning it for years before it was implemented.
Azazel had given a full report once he returned from Russia. He'd listed the fact that, although the organization seemed to be getting money from a few government officials to use Genosha as their dumping ground, it wasn't affiliated. They were finding out people through their own means, and using them for the same reasons.
When Charles had brought up the organization behind it, he had mentioned that the people involved would have had to have power as well as resources. Many people could be bought off, but power gave them the means to intimidate. An enormous amount of power would have to be used to silence the families of the mutants taken was also a factor, and it just added to the mystery.
Across from him Emma had started laughing. He'd given her a hard look and she'd smiled the smile that alerted him that she'd reached her breaking point. Azazel had given her a worried glance as she got up. Her face still lit up by the smile she had said;
"I was ratted out by my own damn father. He had me, my brother, and my sister, hunted down like animals for years," she said, "When they found us, they put a shotgun blast through my brother's head."
Emma made a motion with her hand. Caught unaware he image of blood flying onto him was briefly forced into his mind. He blinked and Emma smiled, despite the shocked looks around the room. He wasn't the only one who'd seen it.
"I don't think they needed any power to silence them," she said.
She'd cocked her head and swiveled her blue eyes to Raven. The meeting was almost over and Raven had come to meet Charles. She wasn't on the cabinet. Despite her protests she was very young, and unlike Emma her powers weren't conducive to combat.
"And I know your stepfather sold you out," said Emma, "Like I said; sapien parents aren't as loyal to their children as you think."
Raven had gotten up.
"You had no right to go into my mind," she snapped, "None at all-"
"Get off your high-horse," snorted Emma.
Azazel had put his hand on Emma's shoulder. Emma had turned to him, her lips contorted into a snarl.
"Calm down Emma."
Her eyes shut down and she'd remained quiet for the rest of the meeting. Charles had to rub his temples. At times Emma was completely lucid and cooperative. At other times she seemed to be running in her own little world. Although they had been together for years she had never spoken of what had happened to her, and the glimpse was the only thing he'd heard about the fate of her family.
At least the rest of the meeting had gone smoothly. The idea to do more research had been brought up and Charles had gotten down to work. The list was important in more ways than one. Most ostentatiously it was a show that Genosha was a safe enough place to reunite families, to live in security.
As the compiler of the list Charles knew what each name meant to each person. He hadn't put down who they were related to or who was looking for them. He'd simply put down their relation in general terms; sister, brother, cousin, father, husband. That way Moira and Levine could reassure the families in general terms who was looking for them. He figured that they would know the rest.
The only two titles he'd faltered at were when he was assigning the relation to two names. Susanna and Lorna Dane. He'd typed 'husband' and 'father' in unsteadily. He hoped that it hadn't showed. Erik didn't trust anyone to know his real relationship to them until they were safely on Genosha. Charles didn't blame him. It was dangerous enough for the other mutants. For Erik though, it would probably mean death.
Letters were written to each family member, all envelopes securely sealed. Some of the families may be suspicious, and it would be good for them to have proof. There were progress reports to be made, culminating in Moira and Levine delivering the family members to Genosha in two months' time. It was, of course, entirely a political move. Having the same agents they had originally met come again showed a level of trust. It showed that there was rapport building up between them and the agency.
Guiltily he was aware of how happy he was that his political agenda meshed so perfectly with his personal one. It would, of course, be good to see Moira again. However, she had made it clear that that door between them was closed. Charles knew she was right. It would be highly improper and risk quite a bit. He knew this.
It brought him back to the question that he shouldn't be in such pain because of it, but he had to shake it off. As things were, they were going to have a tentative dance where they ignored their mutual attraction. If only it were just an attraction, then he felt he would have had a much simpler time getting over it.
The door opened and Erik walked in. He adjusted his suit, looking anxious. The progress report was coming in soon, their phones linked. Charles vaguely wondered who would be calling. Even if it was Moira, it wasn't like he could comment on it. To start with Erik was there. That was only one of the things holding him back though.
The phone rang and Charles picked it up, putting it over the intercom.
"Agent MacTaggert."
He swallowed.
"It's nice to hear from you," he said, "This is Charles Xavier and-"
"Magnus," Erik said bluntly, "Agent MacTaggert, you have our word we're the only two people in the room."
"And you have mine that it's just me," she said, "Levine is currently on a cross country trip looking for a few members on the list."
Erik nodded, drumming his fingers on the table.
"We would like the report."
The tone was sharp and sounded irritated. He winced. Although Charles understood the reasons behind it, he wondered what it must sound like. Still, Moira was too much of a professional to let something like that throw her off her game. It was one of the things he admired about her.
Charles heard the rustling of papers.
"The good news is that we found the Szardos family," said Moira, "We're lucky that they were putting on a performance on the West Coast. They've agreed to come. They're excited to see their cousin again."
The Szardos family. Charles smiled to himself. Azazel wasn't really the Szardos' cousin. He bore no relation to the couple or thier young son. It was simply the way he'd introduced himself for years when he travelled with them. They'd hid him as a boy before he'd left the country, believing the MRD to be tailing him. He hadn't done so well when he'd returned to his homeland of Genosha.
However, he'd been hopeful that he could establish some sort of contact with them. At least that was one wish that they could grant.
"However," Moira said, "their case hasn't been universal. Carter Blaire said he didn't want anything to do with his daughter. Katherine Blaire has agreed to come for a visit, but she says she won't be staying."
Erik clenched his hand in a fist. Allison was going to be disappointed, but she'd admitted that she didn't think her father would want to get back into contact with her. Apparently they hadn't parted on good terms. It was still a disappointment. He remembered how Emma's eyes had flashed when she'd spoken of her father. Although she herself had come from America, she hadn't contributed any names to the list.
"Everyone else has a positive response," she said, "It appears that a few parents, and some siblings, had spent a great deal of money trying to find their lost family members. A few we haven't contacted yet, but it seems to be working."
"You're also ahead of schedule," Charles said, "Perhaps we should push the day up."
"Unlikely," Moira laughed, "as much as I'd love to there's too much security around this to just move the date forward."
She paused.
"There are, however, some complications," Moira said, "There are some people we're having trouble finding."
Charles took a deep breath. He couldn't imagine the disappointment of the family in question. How did someone break the news of that? He would have to break the news himself, gently if possible. Still, he was going to have to think on it for a long time to find a proper way to soften the blow.
"But we have plenty of time," Moira continued, "so I'm confident that we'll find them before the agreed-upon date. We're getting the full cooperation of our agency."
"I see," Erik said, "Can I ask the name of the people you're having difficulties with? We'll want to inform their family personally."
Charles looked over at Erik and he nodded. Internally he let out a deep sigh. He was glad that they were going to do this together. It was something that leaders did, helping bear the burdens of their people. The two of them shared the responsibility of a whole country together, and the concerns of their people had to be theirs. The fact that they had managed to step up to the challenge still amazed him sometimes.
Moira hesitated and he heard the shuffling of papers again.
"Susanna and Lorna Dane," Moira read.
Erik's eyes widened and his face collapsed. He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling and forcing his tears back in.
"And when I say trouble, it's like all of their records were wiped," continued Moira, ignorant of the pain her words were causing, "We just can't seem to find them anywhere."
A flash of fury crossed his friend's face, mingling with grief into something terrible. They both knew, from stories and personal experiences, that wiping records was a standard MRD procedure.
That doesn't mean anything Erik.
Not answering Erik got up, shoving his seat back.
"This meeting is over," he said, "I expect you to do a better job in future."
Without another word he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. Charles cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"Thank you for the update Moira," he said, "I'm sorry…but…we have to deliver some bad news."
"I understand," she said, "It must be very difficult for you all over there."
Charles nodded and hung up the phone. He hurried after his friend, all but running. When he finally reached him he was panting.
"Erik, please! Slow down!"
Erik stopped and whirled around. A metal table near him crunched loudly, crumpling in on itself. Charles winced.
"I know you're upset and…and you have every right to be," he said, "And I know this wasn't what you were expecting, but Erik-"
"But what?" Erik thundered, "I have spent years Charles, years, sweating and bleeding so that I could have my family back again. And now I find out that they can't be found? You know what that means in our world!"
"It doesn't mean-" began Charles.
"Don't you dare molly-coddle me!" Erik shouted, "We both know that it means my wife is probably dead and my daughter's being experimented on in some damn camp!"
"Erik, files get mixed up all the time," pleaded Charles, "They could be fine. Lorna couldn't have manifested that early unless her mutation was physical and then-"
"What if it was?" Erik snapped, "I don't know. I don't know a damn thing because I wasn't there!"
He turned and looked at the table, his voice bitter.
"If htey're hurt Charles," Erik said, his voice low and broken, "If either of them are gone, if they have Lorna, then it's my fault. And nothing I can do will ever make that better."