Victor Morgan wheeled Xavier through the large double doors that led to the morgue. Jean Grey was with them, dressed in a simple black pantsuit and with her red hair pulled up. On closer inspection one might notice the bruises and cuts on her face, and the bits of dried blood and broken glass in her hair. Morgan had only had time to run a comb through his hair. His suit was wrinkled and his walk was like that of someone who has run three simultaneous marathons.
They had been summoned by the Medical Examiner to help identify some of the dead. Xavier was certain that none of his students were among them, but it was for Victor Morgan that they were really here. He had lost the kid he was chasing in the confusion of Creed's attack. Xavier knew that Morgan needed this closure, to know that he had done his job right.
Dr. Lawrence Hanoi met them in his office. He was a thin man of Japanese decent, barely forty and with a pleasant, calm demeanor. "Professor Xavier, it is a pleasure. I've read almost every paper you've published on the advances of genetic research on mutation. Fascinating. I'd love to meet you for lunch sometimes to discuss your theories."
Xavier shook the man's hand and smiled. "Of course. Take my card and call the school. I would enjoy that very much."
Hanoi pocketed the card and turned to Jean with a broad smile. "Dr. Grey. It is good to see you again. The last time I think I laid eyes on you was when you were on ER roster. Our paths crossed quite a lot back then."
Jean accepted his hug warmly and couldn't help but smile. She was flattered he even remembered her. Hanoi squinted at her face. It was clear he noticed the bruises and scrapes. "Awful business with your school, professor. I am sorry. I could only imagine what it was like."
"We pulled through, Dr. Hanoi. The school is in bad shape but it can be rebuilt. I am glad none of my students were seriously hurt or killed."
Hanoi picked up a manila folder and tucked it under his arm. "Well, that is what we are here to establish. None of Creed's followers who have surfaced yet are willing to give us positive Ids. We have been able to identify quite a few of them through fingerprints. Dental records are taking longer but we have had some hits so far. There are a few that have never been arrested prior to this and seem to have no records at all. As I understand it, Detective Morgan here is willing to give us what knowledge he has in this regard."
"As much as I'm able," Morgan said, lifting his head for the first time since he entered Hanoi's office. "Those that I can't identify, I'm going to do my damndest to find something on them."
Hanoi seemed heartened by this but his eyes spoke of his understanding. Some of them will slip through the cracks, and they would never find their parents, their loved ones. They would be buried in an unmarked grave and filed away like a bit of paperwork always is, and it will become one of millions of loose ends that police will never tie up. He opened the door and held out an inviting hand. "Follow me."
They took an elevator into the second sub level. The elevator doors slid open onto a large cement room with stainless steel sinks on almost every wall. Moveable gurneys were placed evenly over the smooth cement floor. There were about ten on the floor at this moment, all occupied by sheet-covered corpses. Hanoi greeted the morgue assistants who all seemed to be in a constant state of motion. One of them took the manila folder from Hanoi and escorted them over to the nearest trolley. He peeled the sheet back and Morgan leaned in to get a better look. The kid was handsome, blonde and looked like he was sleeping. His skin was almost grey. Morgan shook his head no. "If you could get me a photo of these kids, I'll run them through whatever channels I can."
Hanoi nodded. "Of course."
They repeated this process three more times, Morgan's heart sinking a little more each time, not only because they weren't Jeremiah, but because they were all so young, and they all looked like sleeping children. Some has suffered severe burns before they died. Others had died of smoke inhalation. Creed had led them to their deaths and he was not around to pay for it.
Then, the morgue assistant pulled back the sheet on the fourth victim. It hit him like a baseball bat to the face. Jeremiah Blacksmith. Jean put her hand on Morgan's shoulder as he moved closer, trying to will the kid alive again. Hanoi stayed at a respectful distance and looked to Xavier. Xavier cleared his throat. "This boy," He said softly. "His name is Jeremiah Blacksmith. He was one of the young men who invaded the mansion."
Hanoi nodded and scribbled something on his notepad. He took a clipboard from the morgue assistant and bridged the gap between him and Morgan. "The boy died from internal injuries suffered when a section of a wall gave way. They recovered him at the scene. His vitals were very low and he did not regain consciousness on the way to the hospital." Hanoi's voice was soft, respectful. "We can run a check on his name and track down the parents…"
Morgan leaned heavily on the trolley bearing the boy's body. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and shook his head. He was in another place, his eyes glazed over and his voice was broken when he spoke. "No, that won't be necessary, thank you. I know where they are."
Hanoi nodded. "Any of the others?" He asked. "Do you recognize them at all?"
Morgan shook his head slowly. Jean Grey was still right beside him. "No. No I don't. But most of them will have sheets as long as your arm, I'll bet. If you could get those photos to me, I will run them through and hopefully get some positive ID's."
Xavier thanked Hanoi and Jean led Morgan to the elevator, her hand on his back, guiding him back to the land of the living. They weaved their way through the maze-like expanse of the hospital, Morgan looking like a man who had lost what he was looking for. He was upset with himself for feeling the way he did. He didn't know the kid. He was investigating a case and he was a suspect. When Morgan did find the boy, he had his gun drawn with every intention of blowing him away. The boy would have killed himself anyway, so why did this hurt so much?
Because, Morgan told himself I lost the case. This case led to the events at Xavier's, and he could have seen the signs. He should have. But it all happened, and now people are dead. The weight of responsibility sunk his shoulder as they descended the stairs into the sunshine. He squinted up at the sun, and looked at Jean Grey with a weak smile. "So, what now?" He asked softly.
"You found your victim alive. You were able to piece together what happened, and you charged into the school with guns blazing, when you didn't have to. Now, you just walk into the sunset and be content with your involvement here. Let us settle the rest."
"I have to tell the kid's parents…"
Xavier nodded his understanding. "Do what you feel you need to. Mrs. Blacksmith is a strong woman whose secrets have perhaps been the undoing of her family. She has lost her son now. Detective Morgan, it is not your place to take responsibility for that. Creed is to blame and no one else."
Morgan nodded and stared into the middle distance. He looked pale against the blue sky and stark white clouds. "So it's true. You can read minds," He said lightly.
Xavier said nothing. The sun was chasing away the remnants of the rain from the night before and mist was rising from the pavements. Morgan shoved his hands into his pockets and started off down the steps.
"Would you like a ride, detective Morgan?" Jean Grey asked.
He turned back and shook his head slowly. He was smiling slightly. "No, I think the walk will do me good." He said.
The carpet underneath Logan's boots squished as he walked. The whole place was waterlogged from the danger room flooding, the fire containment and the rain. Sunlight shone through the bare rafters where the rooftop used to be. The place looked like it was going to need a new coat of paint or three. He kicked some debris aside with one boot and shoved his hands into his pockets. He did a full three sixty-degree turn to take in all the destruction. Wet squelching behind him heralded Storm's approach. She had cleaned up a little, but he could tell she was still weak from her ordeal. Her eyes were full of surprise and despair.
"The professor has returned," she said. "He wants to speak to us all."
Logan nodded. He squinted up at the sun. "He has some explaining to do. He owes us that much."
She sighed and took his arm. They were walking towards Xavier's office. "Are you being a little hard on the professor, Logan?"
Logan inclined his head. His eyes were clouded with something, and Storm could not place it. It took him some time to answer. "I don't think it's unreasonable to want answers, 'Ro." He said slowly. "I think there have been some questionable actions taken over the past few days, and it's not like Charley to take risks like he has."
Ororo couldn't help but agree with Logan's assessment of the situation. Charles had gone to great lengths to protect his students before, but never had he used his powers in such a way for that purpose. It went against everything the man taught them, and everything he believed in. Taking over Earl Landers' mind was the first of two bold moves he made. The second was freeing Magneto, which Ororo could not comprehend. She was puzzled why Magneto had been so intent on saving a school he had tried to destroy before.
They entered the hollow shell of Xavier's office to find Cyclops and Jean sitting on overturned pieces of furniture. Xavier was talking in hushed tones to Hank, who stood beside his wheelchair. Jean smiled at them as the passed, and Logan noted that she was holding Cyclops' hand.
Hank stepped forward and hugged Ororo. Logan shook his hand and pulled him into a bear hug. Hank almost lifted Logan off the ground. "It's good to see you both again!" Hank exclaimed. "It feels like it's been so long!"
"It has been," Logan said. "But we all forgive you."
Xavier cleared his throat and motioned for Ororo, Logan and Hank to take a seat. They searched around for anything solid and perched upon it. When everyone was settled, Xavier spoke. "Thank God you all survived this," He began. There was genuine emotion in his voice as he spoke. His eyes glistened as he looked at each mutant in turn. "You have all shown great courage during this time. You fought to save this school." He took a long breath and looked to Logan. "I know you all have questions for me."
Logan nodded, arms crossed over his chest. "First thing's first: why did you take control of Earl Landers' mind? Why stoop to something so cowardly?"
Xavier held Logan's hard gaze as he spoke. "I did what I thought was necessary. Earl Landers was brainwashed by Creed to make the allegations against the school in the first place. The committee was going to shut down the school, and I could not let that happen on the basis of such lies. I know what I did is contrary to everything I've taught my pupils, and I know I exposed the school to more scrutiny if my gambit had been revealed. But I had to calculate the risks and take that chance. While I know that none of you agree with my decision, you all need to understand that I did not make it lightly."
Silence followed in the destroyed office. Ororo glanced at Jean, who was shaking her head with her eyes downcast. Clearly Jean was struggling with the justification. As a telepath, the temptation to make people think and feel whatever you want is enormous. Jean had always denied the urge to use her powers in such a way because Charles had set such a high example for her. Now Charles had fallen, had given in to temptation, her ideals were being questioned by the very man who helped shape them.
Hank spoke next. "Obviously the decision was not an easy one. Charles discussed the possibility with me while the committee was still investigating. I could offer no viable alternative to what he had planned. Sometimes a situation can force us to act contrary to every ideal, every rule, and every belief that we hold dear. Charles did the very thing he despised because it would save his school. The end justified the means."
Jean looked up and met Charles' eyes, but she spoke to hank. "Perhaps the X-men should not follow such dogmatic rules about the use of mutant powers," She stood up and gazed through the hole in Xavier's wall. "Because what you're essentially saying Hank is that during a battle, acting like our enemies is all right, as long as we prevail."
"Jean." Xavier said quietly. "We have to sometimes make decisions that will lead to nothing but self hatred. And we question those decisions until the day we die. I will certainly not forgive myself for carrying out this act, but I will not be made to feel guilty for saving my school from one threat…"
"…While we fought to save it from another?"
Xavier inclined his head. "We all did what we had to at the time. And we now have to deal with the repercussions."
Cyclops spread his hands as he stood up, obviously ready to take centre stage. "Look, why are we even having this conversation? We're blaming each other. Look at us! We did not place ourselves in these situations. They way you are all talking is like we had to expect it and roll with the punches!" He took a breath, looked at Jean, and smiled. His voice was softer when he continued. "We almost lost the whole thing. The committee started what Creed attempted to finish. Charles found himself in a corner and he had the option of giving up, letting them win, or taking any steps necessary to prevail. You all have to see each other standing here to know what he did was right. Think of how much worse it could have been."
Silence settled amongst the small group of mutants and their teacher. Logan crossed the debris-strewn floor and put a large hand on Xavier's shoulder. Xavier patted his hand and gazed at the floor. There were no words needed. Xavier knew this was about as much understanding as he would get from Logan, and he was grateful for it. "We have so much work to do, my X-Men," He said softly. "The children we teach deserve that much. We all deserve it."