Months passed. The simple month this job would take was turning into almost four months at this point. It irritated Moira to no end, she missed him more than words could say and he couldn't seem to give her a date as to when he'd return. But he called and wrote regularly, which at least assuaged her worry. He was ok, even if he was far away. And while she couldn't have him there, she was happy that where he was he was ok.

Kurt clearly noticed his absence. In the first few weeks of being away, Kurt had mastered 'Dada', which thrilled Azazel to no end when he first heard him over the phone. Of course, it had taken a lot of coaching on Moira's part, but she was happy to let Azazel think Kurt had come to it on his own.

But over time, Kurt's interest in his father seemed to wane. For such a young child, out of sight-out of mind was a fact of life. While he still enjoyed talking to Azazel when he called, he didn't show the interest he had. It broke Moira's heart and she just wished that Azazel would make it home soon, so they could go back to the family they were.

Then one day, almost five months into the mission, the phone calls stopped. Moira didn't think much of it at first, Azazel had been clear that things were getting wiry and that he may not be able to call as often. She knew that he was determined to protect them over everything, and attributed that to the lapse in calls. But then the letters stopped as well. All forms of contact were broken. While she tried to be patient, knowing jumping too fast to conclusions would do no one any good, she couldn't help but feel something was horribly wrong.

As they approached another month, and Kurt's second birthday, she was sure she'd hear from him. There was no way he'd miss his son's birthday, she knew he wouldn't. And yet, that day came and went with not a word. She was growing desperate with worry, yet she had no idea what she could do. Who could she contact, how would they be able to track him down? Yet in these questions, she had one answer.

She'd sworn to Azazel that she'd keep their relationship a secret, to protect them from anyone who was out to harm him. In this situation, however, she saw no way to keep that promise. She made a phone call to the CIA, and the next day was on a plane with her son back to the United States, to Westchester County and the only person who could possibly help her.

~&Q~

The mansion was exactly as she remembered it. She held Kurt's hand as she walked with him to the large doors. He seemed to get distracted by everything, but was mostly angry at the coat she was making him wear. She finally lifted him into her arms as they came to the steps, taking each one carefully. She was about to knock when the door opened, Charles on the other side.

"Moira," he gave her a small smile.

"Charles," she smiled back. "It's good to see you."

Kurt pulled on his coat, still angry his mother wanted him to be warm, it seemed. Charles' eyes traveled to the boy. "My, he's gotten big."

Moira nodded, feeling impatient. There wasn't time for small talk, and she wasn't here for it. Charles sensed this and his face grew serious. "Come in," he maneuvered his wheelchair aside and allowed them inside. She noticed him put his fingers to his temple and a few moments later a redheaded teen bounded down the stairs.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked, taking in the guests.

"Jean, this is Moira and Kurt," he introduced. Moira smiled at the girl and Kurt just squiggled until she put him down, still pissy over the coat. "I believe we have cookies in the kitchen. Why don't you take Kurt for a snack? His mother and I need to have a word."

"Sure," Jean said, looking to Moira. She leaned down and took the offending piece of clothing off her son and gave him a kiss.

"Be good for Jean, sweetie," she told him as the teenager took his small, odd hand and guided him to the other room. He made no fuss, simply followed happily. Sometimes she thought he was just happy to be away from his mother.

"He'll be happier to explore," Charles said, guiding Moira to his study. "Jean is fantastic, she'll take good care of him."

"Good," Moira took a seat in the study, letting out a nervous breath.

"So," Charles settled behind, steepling his fingers. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need you to help me find someone," she blurted out, her nerves taking hold. "Please, Charles, it's important."

He studied her. "I can't find just anyone, Moira. My only resource is Cerebro and it's only capable of tracking down mutants."

"He is a mutant," she told him. "Please, I know it's not easy to do, but Charles I am begging you. Please help me." Her eyes began to fill, tears threatening to spill.

His eyebrow raised as Moira sat in front of him, knitting her fingers and trying to hold in tears. "Who would I be looking for?"

She took a shuddering breath. "Azazel."

Both brows shot up this time. "Azazel?" he was speechless. That she'd had any contact with this man shocked him. "Why do you need Azazel?"

Moira hated the way Charles was making her feel in the moment, but knew his reaction came from his limited experience with the red man. "He's Kurt's father, Charles. He's been helping me raise him." She wasn't sure why she couldn't bring herself to mention their relationship, but a part of her felt that Charles wasn't entitled to that information. "He left a few months ago, on a job. He was calling and writing but I haven't heard from him in nearly two months. I know something must have happened."

"What if he simply doesn't want to be found?" Charles asked her. "He's been known to disappear. Perhaps that's what he's done."

"No," her eyes slid to his fiercely. "He wouldn't do that."

"Moira, how can you be sure?" Charles started.

She stood, standing over his desk. "You don't know him, Charles. He wouldn't do that. He'd never-" She collapsed backward into the chair, burying her head in her hands. "Please, Charles. I don't have any other options."

Charles sighed, turning to look out his window. "I'll do what I can," he said. "I can't make any promises. But I'll do my best."

Moira nodded. It was all she could ask for. "Thank you."

~&Q~

Charles had given her and Kurt a place to stay in the mansion while he set about locating Azazel. She remained tight lipped about their relationship, simply insisting he'd been helping raise Kurt and that was it. Being bombarded with questions about the situation did bring an interesting question to her thoughts. What was he to her? The term 'boyfriend' seemed childish and the term 'lover' seemed to lack the deep connection they had. She didn't know that there was a term for what they had. A part of her wanted to consider 'husband' but there was far more that would have to go into the relationship for that to be a correct label. Yet, at the same time, it seemed the most fitting. They were raising a child together, they cared for each other. Moira paused in this thought, forcing herself to be honest. She didn't just care for Azazel. She loved him. She loved him more than any other man in her life, and she regretted that she never had the chance to tell him.

Kurt was enjoying his time there, getting so much attention from the other children. Jean especially seemed to be helpful and Kurt had warmed up to her quickly. Some days she had no idea where he was, but she knew he was being taken care of. She was grateful of it, because her mind was only on one thing, and she prayed daily that Azazel was safe.

"I'm sure he's fine," Jean said, rousing Moira's thoughts.

"What?" she turned sharply to the girl, who was sitting on the floor with her son. "What are you talking about?"

"Alek," she replied. "You said-" she trailed off, her eyes growing wide. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry! I'm trying to control, I mean," she buried her face in her hands.

Moira sighed. "You're a telepath."

"I'm so sorry. I can't always control is all," Jean took a breath. "I really didn't mean to. Sometimes though, when thoughts are really strong I can't help it. I really didn't mean to overhear you."

"It's alright," Moira lied. It wasn't alright, but what could she do? She knew Jean didn't mean it. "You just have to promise not to share any of that."

"I swear!" Jean crossed her heart, literally. She silently turned her attention back to Kurt and Moira turned to look out the window. Neither spoke for a few moments, Jean finally breaking it. "Is that Kurt's father? The guy you were thinking of, I mean."

Moira wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't know anything about this girl, except that Charles held her in high regard. On the other end, Moira felt the need to talk to someone, and Jean already knew more than she intended anyone here to know. "Yes," she scrubbed her face.

"You miss him a lot, huh?" she asked.

"I do," Moira clasped her hands together leaning them on her knees. Kurt caught eye of his mother and moved over, climbing into her lap. "Sweetie," Moira smiled and cuddled him close.

"Yeah, I can understand that. I can tell you, uh, feel a lot for him," Jean looked down.

Kurt reached up and put his hand on Moira's cheek. "Happy?" he asked. Moira smiled and kissed him. The boy squiggled in her arms as she showed affection and then jumped back to the floor to go after more toys. She had no response for Jean, nothing she felt comfortable admitting to.

"He's such a good baby," Jean said, indicating Kurt. "I didn't know mutants could be mutants when they're so young."

"There's a lot we're still learning about mutants," Moira told her.

"Yeah," Jean agreed. "He's like, just like a normal kid." She paused. "It was like, I thought I was the only one, you know? I'm so happy the Professor found me. I felt like I was going crazy." She laughed off the last bit, but awkwardly. As if it was truer than she wished to admit.

"How long have you been here, Jean?"

"Just over a year," she told her. "It's been a good one too. I've learned so much about my powers and how to control them. But I still can't control them all the way." Jean blushed a bit, then turned as Kurt presented her with a ball. "Wanna play with the ball?" she asked him, bouncing it to his delight.

Moira turned her attention back to Azazel, wondering again about where he was. She wouldn't entertain her greatest fear that he may not be coming back. Charles' ease of writing him off, 'maybe he doesn't want to be found' ate at her. Charles didn't know him, she reminded herself. Yet at the same time, the worst part of her was telling her maybe he didn't. Maybe he left them. She took a shuddering breath, trying to stop this toxic thought process. She knew Azazel, and knew that nothing within his power would keep him from his family.

"Sorry, I," Jean started. "I'm-" she paused again. "Don't think so bad is all. Sorry, I didn't mean to listen but just don't think so bad. It'll be ok and he'll be back."

Moira looked to her sadly. "I don't know."

Jean watched her a moment. "Are you like, uh, with him?"

"With him?" Moira lifted a brow.

"Yeah well," Jean sat thoughtfully. "Like I mean, do you like him? You know…"

She smirked at the youthful notion of relationships. Looking down at her son, she replied. "I love him. God, I love him and I never told him."

"You'll get to," Jean said with a small smile. She turned back to Kurt. "So, does Kurt get his looks from him? Other than the blue from Mystique I mean."

Moira's expression changed and she sat up straight. "What did you say?"

"Mystique," Jean looked up at her, shrinking back slightly. "Kurt's mother…"

Moira's lip curled angrily. "I am Kurt's mother."

"I know, I meant bio-"

"Who told you this?" Moira demanded. Though she knew who had to have brought it up. Her anger boiled over and her ears rang. She heard nothing else Jean said. She could tell the girl was apologetic but it didn't matter. Moira grabbed her son and left the room.