November 2, 1973
The pain in Charles's head was slowly but surely going away. He'd felt a bit like he'd been hit like a truck after the surgery, but like the truck had only hit his head. Being able to lie down and watch the world go soft had been a blessing.
When the drugs had worn off and the pain was all but gone, he began to worry. He hadn't seen Moira since he'd woken up. That was natural enough, since he had just gotten out of surgery. However, when Hank came in, he'd realized that they were giving him visitors and that Moira hadn't been among them
Hank had been enthusiastic, telling him that the surgeon thought that he'd gotten all of it and that things were going to be alright. He also told him about a rather touching scene he'd run into while trying to stop what he'd thought was a crazy woman dragging her son.
The last story made Charles smile. Rahne hadn't just gotten his books that day: she'd gotten her friend back too. He was glad that things were working out for her, but he couldn't help but inquire about Moira.
Hank looked a little uncomfortable when the topic came up.
"You did give her the letter, didn't you?" Charles asked.
"Yes, of course I did," said Hank, "And uh, she read it."
From the expression on Hank's face he could see that, whatever her reaction had been, it hadn't been positive.
"And?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Hank sighed.
"She got up and hurried off," he said, "I think she was crying."
Charles closed his eyes. That could mean any number of things, but he didn't think that they were good things.
"Charles."
He opened his eyes reluctantly. Hank was looking at him with sympathy.
"Sometimes you have to let things go, you know?" he asked.
"I know that Hank," Charles said, not quite managing to keep the irritation out of his voice, "I was just hoping that I wouldn't have to let go of her too."
Hank fell silent and looked down. Charles gritted his teeth.
"I'm sorry," he said.
His friend didn't say anything, and Charles forced himself to exhale slowly.
"I am sorry," he said, "Really."
"So am I," said Hank, "I...just, I'm sorry that things worked out this way."
Charles nodded, holding his hands on his lap. Where was he supposed to go from here? He wasn't ready to concede defeat. Not yet. Not until he'd heard a firm rejection from her lips, and even then, he knew that he'd still hold onto some hope that they could still be friends. Any sort of tie to her was one to be coveted, as pathetic as that was.
Getting anything done would be difficult as long as he was bedridden though. Perhaps he should try to find her, to talk things out. He had the feeling that his doctor would take a rather dim view of him travelling, even in a wheelchair.
He was about to ask Hank if he could smuggle him out when there was a knock on the door. Charles's heart leapt into his throat. Hank gave a look at Charles, and then walked over to the door and opened it.
Moira was standing there, just like Charles had hoped she would be. Her face looked a little blotchy, and Charles wondered just how hard she had cried after she'd seen his letter. He hadn't meant to make her cry.
"You look good for having just had brain surgery," Moira said.
"I try," Charles said, his throat feeling dry.
She smiled, but he could see that there was something nervous about it.
"Sorry I'm late," she said, "I ran into an old friend in the hallway."
The word 'friend' was tinged with disgust. He figured that she could only mean Doug's mother.
"But it means that I have a new student," she said.
"I'm happy for you," Charles said.
"Same here," she said, her eyes roaming the line of stitches around the left side of his head.
The room fell silent. Hank glanced at the two of them and ducked his head.
"I'll um, give you two a moment," he said.
Moira watched as he all but fled from the room. Even after the door closed, Moira continued to stare in his direction.
"He's not very subtle, is he?" she asked.
"No," Charles said, "But he has a good heart. Probably the best man I know."
Moira continued to stare at the door. He saw her shoulders tense as she turned to face him. Charles tried to figure out what she was thinking from her face, but she wasn't giving anything away. He considered going into her mind for a second before brushing the idea away. After the last time he doubted he was welcome there.
"I read your letter," she said.
Charles nodded.
"I...I thought I was going to live," he said, "But...a friend showed me that life can change in the blink of an eye."
It was yet another thing that Charles wanted to thank Logan for when they finally did meet.
"I didn't want to leave anything unsaid," he said.
"And this?" she asked, gesturing to the room, "Did you plan for the afterward where we had to talk about it?"
"No," Charles said.
"Why not?"
"Because I had no idea what you would say," Charles said, "I still don't."
Moira folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes never left his, and Charles began to feel slightly unnerved.
"You might as well have written a letter with the words 'I love you' scribbled on it in highlighter," Moira said.
"Yes, but I couldn't find a highlighter," said Charles.
The words were a little desperate, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Her stance softened a little, but her arms remained firmly tucked across her chest. Charles could feel the barrier between them, the distance, as though it were a tangible thing stabbing into him.
"You're not denying it?" she asked.
"I can say it out loud if that's what you want," Charles said, "I love you Moira. I loved you at Westchester, when I was too scared to keep you. And I still love you now that I'm a braver man."
This time Moira did look away, and Charles felt his heart beat faster.
"I'm not the woman you knew all those years ago," she said, "I've changed Charles."
"I know that," Charles said.
"Do you?" said Moira, "I...I understand that you're impressed with Muir Island. But I've been doing more than that. I've been organizing people, raising a daughter-"
"Breaking people's noses?" Charles supplied.
Moira looked back at him, surprised. Charles couldn't help but laughing.
"Rahne told me," he said, "She said that you were defending her."
His lips turned up into a smile. Charles could imagine her now in all of her righteous fury.
"Moira, I never told you why I fell in love with you in the first place, did I?" he asked.
Moira shook her head. She still looked confused, but her eyes were back on him. Good. If nothing else, he wanted to remember exactly what she looked like that day.
"I fell in love with you because you were strong, brave, resourceful," he said, "You were compassionate and smart, willing to sacrifice yourself for what you believed in. You personified every good quality that I saw in humanity."
Her eyes softened and he wished that he was able to get up and touch her cheek, to pull her close as he spoke.
"All you've done in the years since we last saw was amplify those qualities," he said, "If anything, I think I might be more in love with you now than I was all those years ago."
Moira took a step closer to the bed. Her arms were still across his chest, but if she came a little closer he might be able to reach out and touch her hand.
"I love you Moira," he said, "And I mean it. If you could love me back, then I would want nothing more than your love in return."
"And Rahne?" Moira asked quietly.
Charles smiled. Finally, she was asking easy questions.
"The other day I was thinking that, if I'd had children, a daughter, then I would have liked her to be like Rahne," he said, "And I mean that. She's a wonderful child Moira."
She nodded, but didn't say anything. In the ensuing silence, he could feel worry begin to grow. He had to give her everything, leave nothing out. Something inside him was telling him that, if he lost her today, then there wouldn't be a second chance.
He had to try more.
"Moira, you were the most precious thing in my life at the time," he said, "I'm not sure if I realized it consciously, which is why I had such a hard time realizing why I had sent you away. But all I knew was that I couldn't let them harm you. And I just ended up hurting you in return. If I could take it back-"
"No."
Charles stopped in mid-sentence. Moira was looking at him now, a strange expression in her eyes.
"What?" he whispered.
"No," she said, "You can't change what happened, and neither can I. What you did wasn't fair and it wasn't right. But if you had let me stay, the CIA might have come after us. Even if it didn't..."
She let out a deep breath.
"Even if it didn't, if I had stayed with you then I probably wouldn't have gone to Scotland," she said, "I...I might have never met Rahne."
She put a hand on the wall for support, her eyes meeting his again.
"Your decision was wrong Charles," she said, "But...sometimes I wonder if there's a bigger design at play."
"Maybe," Charles said, "But...if that's true...then..."
He swallowed.
"If that's true then it also brought us back together again," he said.
Moira didn't say anything. Charles swallowed, wishing once again that he could reach out and hold her, let her see what he was feeling.
"When we parted ways, all those years ago, sent me away, you were right about one thing," Moira said, "I was ready to die for you. You and everyone else."
His heart broke. He couldn't believe that she had loved him just as much as he had loved him.
"And meeting you again, that hurt," Moira said, "And seeing how you were...how optimistic you are about everything...how you still see the world like a big chance, and this new bravery you have when you talk about the future...what you said about Rahne..."
Her arms fell to her side.
"I think I'm ready to live for you," she said.
Charles's eyes widened. Before he could speak she had crossed the room and cupped his face in her hands. Her lips pressed down on his and he closed his eyes. His hands reached up and buried themselves in her hair, pulling her as close as he dared.
One of his hands moved down her back, making sure that this was real, that she was really in his arms. He pulled his lips away so that he could scatter kisses over her face, taste her skin and feel her warmth.
Finally he just held her close, his hands caressing the side of her face as memories of love flooded back to him. However, when she leaned her head into the crook of his neck, he decided that the present was much better. It was the only time when he had a future where she had a place.
"I love you," he said, "I love you so much. You'll never know-"
Moira lifted her head and silenced him with a light kiss. When she pulled away she touched her forehead to his, her hands on his shoulders.
"You're right," she said, "I don't know."
One of her hands moved from his shoulder onto his heart.
"And you'll never know how much I love you," she said.
Moira smiled.
"Let's find out," she said, "Together."
Charles closed his eyes.
"There's nothing I look forward to more."
