"It was a good ceremony."

Charles looked over at Levine. Levine was standing, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring out the window at the lawn. He wished that he'd been able to refuse his request to see him. All he'd wanted to do after the funeral was go back to his room and lock the door, blot out as much of the world as possible.

He poured his own glass of whiskey. Charles could see his reflection in the silver tray. He hadn't shaved in days, and his hair was growing in a bit more. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, and somehow his face seemed sunken in.

He looked like hell. It was certainly what he felt like. Every corner held whispers of the woman he'd loved. Her forms were still on his desk, wedding plans were in his room. Even when he woke up he sometimes thought that he could feel her lips on his cheek, kissing him awake.

"I'm glad you held it here, that you're burying her here too," Levine said, "I get the feeling that that's what she would've wanted."

Charles put the whiskey decanter down and swallowed the drink. It burned his throat, but didn't provide any clarity.

"Perhaps," he said.

Levine cleared his throat.

"Charles, I know that you and I don't know each other very well," he said, "The only thing that we really had in common was Moira and...well..."

Charles turned his wheelchair so he could face Levine fully. Levine sloshed the whiskey in his glass around.

"I know that it might be none of my business," he said, "But I need to ask about your plans for Rahne."

Charles gave him a long look.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Levine looked up, his face troubled.

"I think you know what I mean," he said, "Rahne's just lost her primary guardian."

His heart constricted. Rahne. Of course. He blinked a few times, trying to remember Moira's daughter. It was more difficult than he'd like to admit. He'd been living moment by moment since Moira's death, struggling to think about the next day.

"Charles, I know what Moira would have wanted," Levine said, "Or at least I think I do. I haven't seen her will. However, considering your status as her fiancé, it's safe to assume that she would've wanted you to take custody of Rahne."

Charles took a deep breath.

"Of course," he said, "She will always have a home here."

"Will she have a father though?" Levine asked.

His tone was pointed, more so than Charles would've liked. Charles narrowed his eyes and Levine put a hand up defensively.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but you're a mess. Moira's death...it hasn't hit any of us easy, but one look at you..." Levine said, "Just..."

He shook his head.

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately," Levine said, "Ever since one of your students called me instead of you."

"I-" Charles began, his voice angry.

"Charles, I'm not attacking you," Levine said, his voice tired, "But you're not exactly in the best shape. Do you honestly think that you can be a father to a child who's just lost her whole world?"

Charles fell silent. He didn't know how to answer.

"Right," Levine said.

He took another gulp of whiskey.

"I'm willing to assume responsibility for Rahne," Levine said, "I don't intend to keep her away from the Institute forever. In a few years she'll come back: it is the best place for mutants that I can think of. But a change of scenery might do her good."

He sighed.

"I don't pretend to be a better guardian than you," Levine said, "But you need to know..."

Levine set down his glass of whiskey on Charles's table. Charles looked down, feeling a pit opening at his feet, hearing a voice whisper that he should jump into it. He hadn't thought of Rahne once since he'd told her that Moira was dead. What kind of a person would do that, especially when that person had told her that he wanted to be her father?

"I loved Moira," Levine said, "Not like you did. But...she was family Charles. And I want to do right by her daughter."

He scratched the back of his neck.

"Charles, the choice is yours," he said, "If you think that you can be her father, then don't hesitate in telling me to pack dust. It might be best if she stays here after all."

Levine's face hardened.

"But if don't think you can handle this, then send Rahne to Virginia with me," he said.

His voice softened fractionally.

"You'll see her again: I promise."

Charles looked up at Levine, his own emotions churning inside of him.

"I just want what's best for Rhane," Levine said.

"So do I," Charles said.


Rahne looked ahead of her, staring at her mother's coffin. The ceremony had gone by in a blur. She couldn't even remember the eulogy. She could vaguely remember Levine and a couple of the other students talking to her afterwards, saying that they felt sorry for her.

She didn't want their pity though. She wanted her mother. Rahne wanted to wake up, but she had the feeling that that wasn't going to happen. How many times had she gone to sleep over the past few weeks, praying that when she woke up it would all be different?

It appeared that God had given her her allotment of miracles. She shouldn't have selfishly expected any more. Rahne knew that not many children were as fortunate as she'd been. Many had never had someone to rescue them from death and a miserable existence. Not many of them had been given a mother who loved them, even if that mother had been given to her only to be taken away a few short years later.

She'd looked around the gathering and seen the Professor. His eyes had seemed empty and distant. His hair had grown in a bit: he hadn't been shaving. Her heart had begun to hurt anew. He'd said that he was going to be her father, that he wanted to be her father. Scott had told her to have faith in him.

Rahne wanted to go and talk to him. She wanted to speak to someone else who had cared deeply about her mother. If he'd wanted to talk to her though, then he would have already done it. She couldn't think ill of him for not saying anything, but it only cemented what she knew deep inside her heart. Once more, she was alone.

Well, not quite. Lorna was waiting for her in the back of the room, her constant guardian. Scott, Warren, Ororo, and Clarice were waiting for her too. At least she had them. It hadn't been what she'd been promised by her mother and the Professor, a mother, father, and perhaps siblings, but it was more than she'd had four years ago. She would have to be grateful for that.

She closed her eyes for a moment and whispered a quick prayer. There would be no more miracles, she knew that, but perhaps He could help her carry herself through it. He was going to be there for her. He'd done it before.

"Lorna?" Rahne said, opening her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Can I have a few minutes?" she asked, "I'll go right up to my room after this."

Lorna hesitated. Rahne knew she was worried about her, but she couldn't be with someone just then.

"Please?" she asked.

Lorna sighed and then nodded. She leaned down and kissed Rahne on her forehead.

"I'll be there when you're ready," she said.

Rahne waited until Lorna was gone to get closer to the coffin. She placed on of her hands on the smooth wood. The reverend who officiated had said that her mother died in a car crash. Rahne had been told what really happened though. She'd died fighting for other people, murdered by two members of an unfeeling group of people called The Brotherhood. Mystique and Magneto. It pained her that the world was never going to know of her mother's sacrifice, could never know. Perhaps that's what made it a true sacrifice.

She bit her lip, looking at the flowers that decorated the room, wanting so badly to be able to say something worthy of the occasion. Rahne had been pouring through her Bible lately, searching for something to say in this moment, something that would comfort her and let her mother know, from her place in Heaven, that Rahne was going to be alright.

In the end, she settled on words that she had said before. Her mother had given her life to the Institute, a worthy cause. Rahne could do the same.

"Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried," Rahne whispered, "The Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me."

Feeling tears in her eyes, Rahne leaned forward and kissed the wood of the coffin.

"I'll see you again mom," she said, "I'm sure of it."

She pulled herself away, forcing each step. Rahne walked out into the hallway, looking at the staircase that led to her room. She knew what she'd promised Lorna but, for some reason, she couldn't quite do it. She couldn't go up there.

Instead Rahne walked out onto the front porch of the Institute, leaving the door open behind her. She sat on the steps there, letting the cool air wash around her. Rahne bowed her head and let her braids fall over her shoulders as she stared at her black dress.

Time passed. Rahne didn't know just how much did, just that Lorna would be looking at her soon. It was time to go back into the Institute, but the idea of doing so seemed too difficult. Why did she have to go back? Why did she have to do anything at all?

Her mother wouldn't have wanted her to think that way though. She still had people, she wasn't that little girl who'd run away from home with nothing but the clothes on her back. Rahne hadn't gotten very far that way.

Chewing on her tongue, Rahne prepared herself to go inside. She had no idea what future awaited her, but she knew there was one. One without her mother, but one where Rahne was alive. It was more than she had thought possible four years ago.

A strange smell came on the chilly breeze. She cocked her head and looked up, her nostrils flaring. Rahne could see the people approaching the Institute. They were unfamiliar and she stared at them, trying to figure out what to do.

They stopped a few feet away from her. The man in front of them was dressed strangely, they all were really, but he was the only one wearing a helmet, and he was giving her an odd look. Rahne gave him an odd look straight back. What were they doing there?

The man turned away, obviously dismissing her.

"Mystique, memory fails me. Is there a doorbell we should ring?"

Warning bells went off in Rahne's head. She knew that name. Lorna had told her that name, told her what it meant. Strange emotions ran through her, ones she knew were wrong and cruel, and others that made her want to run inside.

With so many conflicted emotions churning inside of her, caught between fight and flight, Rahne did the only thing she could think of. She screamed.