The Hog of Hedges: glazing over is good! That's what we aim for….incomprehensible stuff that sounds like it might know what it's talking about. Editing is a bitch, but I'm glad I did it. Sort of. Now I have to resist the urge to keep tweaking… Hahaha… I wouldn't know about heroin either, but thank you!
Iblis well… all will be revealed about Kevin in this chapter. Sort of, anyway. I hope I can get Jono out of it too… even I'm still not sure if he'll co-operate…. sighs
AnonGirl88: great name! And about the whole updating thing… umm… yeah… ooops. (Running and hiding now).
Pixie stix addict: hahahaha… yeah, gotta love Brian. He's the sensible type. Hmm… jailbreak… there's an idea. You'll have to wait and see. And you're so right about Excalibur.. they're dirty old extortionists too. Freedom fighters, maybe.
Uncanny R-Man: you hate him? Yay! Someone getting into my characters! That is so cool. And as for Wisdom… yeah, I got plans for him. Give me… two or three chapters though. Rahne totally rules! Yes!
Atomic midnight: it made sense? Awesome! Rahne bite Carson? I kinda like that idea. I'll have to keep it in mind. And you are once again completely correct. Proteus it is.
Episodic: and a damn good purpose it is too! Random factoids are brilliant. And sorry to hear about your headphones!
MatureImmaturity thank you! I try to make everything fit in – pointlessly sometimes, like in this chapter here. But the science was supposed to be confusing, so that's all good. And I'm glad you like Carson – I have way way way too much fun writing him. Seriously, I'm sure it's unhealthy.
Ivan Alias: yay, another genetics fan! There should be so many more of us. sighs I'm not completely sure about the globalness of the definition of death, but I'm certain it applies in Britain, NZ and the States. Fairly certain, anyway. Yay for more rabbie! I'd put a Scottish quote back for you, but the only ones I can think of come from Trainspotting… oh well! Thanks for the review and the quote!
I heart the Distillers: totally with you on the Carsons… they shall be strangled well and good! Or I hope they will. Okay… consider me threatened! I'll try not to kill Jono… although he might have other ideas…
Taishoku Kurayami: letting it flow over your head is probably a good thing. It's not meant to make huge amounts of sense! Thanks for the review!
Beaubier ha! I'm talking to you on AIM while I'm writing this! Crazy cool! Anyway… yeah… research. I'm addicted to it… it's so sad. But if I managed to make you interested… hehehe.. my evil biochem work is done… And yeah… gotta love Brian. He's so my village idiot at the moment. But it makes him feel important!
HybridMutant oh man, I love you so much! You make me feel all cool and stuff! Seriously, thank you. And I'm glad you're enjoying it! And I'm glad that it seems like this story is turning into my own, because that's totally what I'm aiming for! Yay!
Chaotic Boredom: wow… you understood? Dammit, I was going for incomprehensibility! And yeah, you've gotta love Gen X. Paige and Jono always cracked me up too! Totally Proteus! And he is a jackass… but more on that later…
And as always, or so it seems these days, many many apologies for the delay. Everything and its dogs seemed to want to get between me and writing this chapter – assignments, illnesses, various other lots of x-men crap, uncooperative characters, editing, holidays… no seriously! Silly I know… and I'm sorry. Anyway, in more positive news, this should hopefully be a double update! I've finished editing the earlier parts of this story – not quite to my utmost satisfaction, but never mind – and there's also a new chapter which fits between chapters five and six (providing ffnet allows me to do it – fingers crossed). So if you wanted to read more about the Reverend and his daughter… check it out. It's not crucial to the story in any way, but it might be fun. And if you were wondering why you got two update alert notice thingies, that's why too.
Huge thanks go to the wonderful Beaubier for reading this chapter and being amazingly (overly) positive about it, since I was kind of worried. You are fabulously shinyhair as always.
Anyway… finally…
What just happened? The confusion was clearly painted across the faces of Teresa and Neal at least, and Rahne knew she must be wearing a matching expression. Betsy and Sean had twin stony-faced glares, and Moira…. Somehow, the current of the discussion had shifted, with Carson gaining the upper hand, and Rahne had no idea why.
"You can't just smirk around and threaten people and expect them to…" Teresa began indignantly, but she was cut off by Moira's simultaneous, "You wouldn't…" The scientist's face, though controlled, was paler than usual and her voice and scent carried just a note of panic, mixed in with guilt. Old guilt.
Carson looked back levelly, still smiling the smile that never touched his eyes. "All for the greater good," he said, and even with her nose, Rahne couldn't tell whether the lawyer was serious or not. He broke the gaze for a moment, eyes flicking over the companions, lingering with amused interest on the puzzled features of Neal and Teresa. "I see some of your young charges look confused – do they not know about your son, Moira? Your mutant son, whom you ordered to be killed?" Francis lay a restraining hand on his brother's arm, sending the lawyer an urgent look, but withdrew it quickly when Carson rounded on him sharply. He settled back in his chair, his scent unhappy but obviously unwilling to challenge his brother further.
"You gave the orders to have his life terminated, Dr MacTaggert," the lawyer continued, hints of a snarl breaking through his composure. "But not before you'd allowed him to remove… now what was the body count? Six? Seven?"
"Five," Moira replied stiffly, anger overwhelming the guilt in her scent and tightening her voice into a tone that seemed more penetrating than any of the Cassidy's sonic lances. "And how dare you insinuate that I would sit back and let lives be taken? I would never, never…"
Sean actually growled, and started to rise out of his chair, fists clenched before Betsy put a restraining hand on his arm. Although she didn't look to happy about it either – Rahne thought she could make out little flares of purple fire flashing around the telepath's knuckles. For herself, the Rahne still wasn't sure that she completely understood what the hawk-faced lawyer was hinting at, but he was definitely threatening her pack, her new mother, and for that she could feel the rage growing, along with a desire to let her fangs grow and rip at the smirking, unprotected throat.
"Really?" the lawyer asked, his composure returning, although he eyed Sean's glare with a flash of nervousness. "And yet now you play the good Kantian, unwilling to allow a measure that could save countless lives because it will cost one boy his meagre, pitiful existence?"
Moira sat silent for nearly a minute after this statement, and following her lead the other members of Excalibur held their tongues as well, although the strain was obviously showing for Teresa and Sean, and even Betsy's scent betrayed frustration, although outwardly she was as composed as ever. For herself, Rahne had no urge to speak, despite the anger at the lawyer's treatment of Moira. For one thing, she still wasn't completely sure that she knew what was going on – she had a feeling of skirting around the shores of a whole sea of complicated troubles, with no sense of any guide through. Moira's son? Why had she never heard anything about him? And what had Carson meant about ordering him to be killed? It was too much to comprehend.
But eventually the scientist did break the silence, quietly this time, her tone shorn of most of the anger, although scraps remained in her scent. "Why are you doing this?"
"Why? Because mutants must be stopped." The lawyer's answer came instantly, not quite flippant, but coming close. "But I suppose if you must have a more personal reason, Dr MacTaggert, I could trace it back to ten years ago, when I heard about the death of my good friend Joseph," he continued, taking on a more serious expression. "You see, I wasn't quite satisfied with the story that they put out about your husband's death, Moira. I did some investigating on my own. And found an interesting cover up by a certain Irish policeman, incidentally, but that's quite beside the point." Sean glared at him, but Carson pretended not to notice. "The important thing I learnt from Joseph's death was that mutants are essentially uncontrollable and extremely dangerous. You really are a menace. And so, you know, I rather like to think of my actions as a tribute to the memory of my dear departed friend."
"That's complete bullshit!" Teresa exploded, unable to hold back any longer. Her father silenced her with a sharp glance, but by that point it was too late anyway. Perhaps it had been two late when the lawyer stepped into the room. In any case, Moira rose abruptly, signalling for the others to start vacating the room.
But not before Betsy had taken one last opportunity to address the lawyer. "You're one sick sick man, aren't you?"
"You know Miss Braddock, coming from someone such as yourself, I believe I'll take that as a compliment."
……
The group that arrived back at Muir Island later that day was subdued to say the least. They'd gone off to vanquish the big bad ogre in his castle, but at the end of the day, he was still sitting there, more secure than ever. Or at least it felt that way to Rahne. And apparently the others felt similarly. Moira had vanished as soon as they'd entered the Research Centre, but the other five Excalibur members found themselves congregating in the common room. None of them quite wanted to be alone right at the moment, Rahne decided, not if they were feeling anything like she was. Even Betsy and Neal had no quips today, no flirting barely disguised under the cover of bickering. Instead they were curled up on one of the couches, Neal with his head on Betsy's lap. If they were talking, it wasn't aloud.
Sean, however, was taking a more active approach to coping. His first move on entering the room had been to make a beeline straight for the cupboards, eventually emerging with a glass and a not quite full bottle of single malt. With all the slow deliberation of an Irishman who means nothing to get between him and his path to an alcoholic blur, he placed bottle and glass reverentially on the table, sat down, and poured himself a shot. A second's pause, a quick flick of an arm, and the glass was back on the table, empty. The sandy-haired Irishman grimaced briefly, then methodically poured himself a second shot.
When he put the bottle down this time, though, another hand snaked out and took it away. Rahne watched, trying very hard not to blink in surprise as Teresa carefully lifted the bottle up and tipped a generous measure into her own glass.
"What do y' think y're doin', cagaran?"
"What does it look like, Da?" Teresa replied with a challenging stare. "I'm having a drink."
"Not in my house, y' ain't." Sean went to grab at the glass holding the offending drink, but his daughter snatched it away from him, downing it in a single swallow. The Irishman glared, although Rahne thought she could smell just a hint of pride in his scent when Terry gave nothing more than a brief shudder at the harsh taste.
"Too slow," she told him, although her voice was possibly not as steady as she would have liked. "And it isn't your house. Anyway, you're doing it, so why shouldn't I?"
"Well for one thing, I'm old enough t' buy the stuff," Sean grumbled, but he made no further move to take the bottle away. "Auch, so I suppose I should just get used to this, naw? Maybe I should even be offering strong spirits to Rahne next?"
"Oh, that's okay, really," she said quickly, before Teresa had a chance to act on the defiant gleam that had come to her eyes. "I… might just go for a walk, or something."
……
Rahne's plan had been to head outside to her favourite spot on the island, where the cliffs faced east and the waves crashing onto the rocks sent little bursts of sea spray up into her face. It was the place she went to think, and today, that was all she felt up to. But instead, she found herself following a scent trail through the research centre, down the corridors past Teresa's room and into a part of the complex which she'd never ventured to before.
She'd tracked it without thinking, so when she came up to an open door and saw Moira sitting silently just inside what looked like a bedroom, she couldn't help but be surprised. Pausing at the door, Rahne tried very hard to keep as silent as possible, so as not to disturb whatever contemplation her foster mother was occupied in. Moira's eyes were dry, but the strain was showing in the tightness of her jaw and the tense wiry note rippling through her scent. Unsure of whether to interrupt the to ask Moira if she was okay, or simply keep on and head outside, leaving the scientist to the privacy of her own thoughts, Rahne peered round door to inspect the room.
It was unmistakeably someone's bedroom, although there were no scents apart from Moira's to suggest that it had been lived in. Not that there was any dust on the nondescript bed or desk, or the bookshelves with their rows of slightly faded but still colourful books, but the room was... devoid of life. Apart from them, the only sign of any personality was an old poster showing the Rangers side from twelve years ago, carefully pinned up so as not to damage any of the corners, and smoothed neatly across the wall. There was a large rip running through the centre of the poster, but the halves had been lovingly taped together, leaving only a small seam through the goal keeper's head.
Moira hadn't moved at all during this time, so Rahne turned to leave, but as she turned, the orange-haired woman finally spoke. "I did love him. Kevin, that is."
Rahne paused at the door, startled by the remark. She wasn't sure if Moira had even noticed she was here – maybe she was just addressing herself? Her tone had sounded more like that of someone trying to convince themselves of something they only half-believed than anything else. The scientist never turned around to look at her, but she spoke again, her voice flat and her scent a jumble of emotions, surging and changing to fast for Rahne to decipher properly. "Despite everything he did – and… everything I did. I know it doesn't seem it, but I did love him. I did."
Abruptly, the scientist rose and walked over to the poster, tracing the line of the carefully patched rip with her hand. The greenish tang of remorse grew stronger in her scent. "I was a rather poor mother, really - too busy with my own life, and I never realised until it was too late." She finally turned to look at Rahne, giving a rueful self-deprecating smile that looked out of place on her normally assured features. Moira was always so composed, so certain in herself. But not now, and that was somehow more disturbing than anything Carson could ever have said. "I suppose I thought that adopting you could help me make up for it. A second chance. It was selfish of me, really. I'm sorry, honey."
"Nay – nay, you don't have to be…" Rahne started quickly, the words spilling out before she even had time to think about what she meant. It felt… wrong, to see the scientist like this, and she wanted to reassure her, as backwards as that seemed. Moira had always been the one to reassure her, to tell her that everything was okay – Rahne wasn't sure that she could do anything to help in return. But nevertheless, she crossed the room and to the older woman, tentatively reaching up and putting her arms around her in a cautious hug. "You…" words failed. Rahne wanted to explain that she was grateful to her foster mother for everything that she'd done, but it was more than that, if she could only think of how to put the feelings into words. So she said nothing more, and just hoped that the hug would go some way to explaining that while she'd never replace her mother, be her mother, Moira was… her mother.
NB: For those of you who aren't familiar with the comics and who are wondering where the hell this talk about Moira's son came from…this is all in reference to Kevin MacTaggert, also known as Proteus, an extremely powerful mutant who possessed the ability to warp reality. His backstory in Ristyverse (the evoverse of my creation) isn't really that important for this story, but it's based on a combination of the 616 and Ultimate Proteus stories. More about that later, since it will be my next project if I can ever manage to finish this.
But for now… in other notes…! I'm reliably informed by the Uncanny R-Man (thanks for the idea, by the way!) that Teresa's drinking problem was canon, and Sean has been known to partake himself… Kant was a famous German philosopher who believed (as an example) that it is wrong to lie, even to save an innocent from certain death. Joseph MacTaggert was obviously Moira's husband (another not very nice man)… and… I think that's about all…
Hope you enjoyed it!