Hope you enjoy this!
Margaret stared out the window of the small CIA jet they had boarded not long after they had docked the Coast Guard ship. Raven was waiting patiently on the docks, beyond surprised to see Charles dripping wet and Margaret fuming. She had since calmed down from the event, but was finding it hard to sleep as they travelled back to Virginia, to the covert CIA facility.
"Are you alright, Margaret?" She turned her head to see the telepath sliding into the seat beside her. She sighed softly and nodded her head, not pulling away when his hand found hers. "I didn't mean to frighten you, love." She rested her head against the back of her seat as she continued to look at him.
"I know," she said, patting the top of his hand with her opposite one. "I know. I'm sorry for losing my mind so quickly, this whole situation has me on edge. I feel like I could lose you at any moment." Charles furrowed his brow slightly and she shut her eyes at her phrasing. "You or Raven. I don't think I could handle that."
"I told you I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe," Charles said, a serious and righteous look on his face. She couldn't help but smile, releasing a light laugh.
"You can't promise that, love," she replied, shaking her head softly. "As much as you'd like to, if something happens it will happen anyway. So, we shall continue with this top secret mission of ours and stop Sebastian Shaw once and for all." She leaned forward and glanced at the sleeping Erik Lehnsherr. "Let's hope we can give that man some closure, if it is revenge he wants on this man."
"How do you know he wants revenge, then?" Charles asked, smiling at her as she sat back and watched her.
"I mean, it is quite obvious. You don't try to stop a hundred tonne submarine just to have a cup of tea with the bloke on board." Charles agreed with a laugh, nodding his head. She had forgotten about her hand that was still holding his, but her thumb brushed over his knuckles softly as she chuckled beside him. "Do you know why he wants this revenge, though? Surely you had a poke around his mind." Charles nodded softly but didn't answer her. "The sort of tale that should be told from the horse's mouth, I reckon?" Another nod answered her question. "Then I will respect his privacy. Not that I am not bloody curious."
"Perhaps you could ask him," Charles suggested. Margaret shook her head quickly, her softly curled hair bouncing on her shoulders.
"Oh, no," she replied. "I don't think he and I would get along. We both seem far too stubborn."
"Well that is true," he laughed. She rolled her eyes but let out a laugh of her own as she settled into her seat, resting her head on his shoulder.
"But since you were apologising for your attempted suicide," she sighed, fixing her head on his shoulder so she could get a comfortable angle to rest her head. "You can act as my personal pillow for the remainder of this flight. Moira never gave my poor mind a chance to have a rest, so you all owe me this." Charles chuckled softly, causing his shoulder to shake lightly and she glared up at him. "Stop moving, telepath."
"Goodnight, love," he said, placing a kiss on the top of her head before resting his cheek on her hair, shutting his eyes to get some much needed rest as well.
….
"Welcome to my facility." Margret squinted as she looked up at the modern and grey building. The M.I.B seemed rather proud and pleased as he led the mutant team into the entrance of the state-of-the-art facility. "My mission has been to find the application of paranormal powers in military defence."
"Or offence," Erik added, watching the M.I.B behind a pair of dark sunglasses. Margaret glanced between him and the M.I.B trying to gauge his reaction but the agent ignored him.
"This guy, Shaw? Schmidt? Whatever you want to call him, he's working with the Russians," the M.I.B informed. Margaret couldn't help the roll of her eyes.
Of course he is, she thought. Charles glanced back at her and she merely shrugged her shoulders.
"We might need your help to stop him," the M.I.B finished, looking at each mutant directly.
"So are we to be the CIA's new mutant division, then?" Charles asked.
"Something like that."
The M.I.B led the small group into a large airplane hangar that was sectioned off. A lab was squared off and a large scale-model of an intricate and powerful looking jet hung from the ceiling. Margaret circled the creation with wide and curious eyes, moving her hand to touch the wing.
"It's supersonic," a voice said behind her. She pulled her hand away and was greeted with a very young looking man in a lab coat walking towards them. "The most advanced plane ever built. You should see it in real life, it's incredible."
"I'd say so. It's lovely," Margaret mumbled, a small smile on her face. The young scientist smiled as she moved away from the model to get a better look at the model. "My dad was a plane mechanic, he would've loved to see this."
"During the war?" Margaret nodded at the scientists questions.
"He trained there and loved it so much he carried on with it," she told him, glancing at the scientist with a smile. "You built it?" The scientist nodded softly, almost shyly. Margaret smiled brightly at him before shaking her head. "Incredible work, truly incredible."
"Margaret here had a keen interest in mechanics before she went to university," Raven smiled, rolling her eyes jokingly. "Once you get her going, you'll never get her to stop." Margaret sent the girl a mock glare but she only replied with a proud smile.
"This is Hank McCoy," the M.I.B said, before turning to the small group of mutants beside him. "These, Hank, are the special new recruits I was telling you about. Hank here is one of our most talented, young researchers."
"How wonderful!" Charles grinned, walking towards the boy beside Margaret with an outstretched hand. Hank took it gratefully. "Another mutant already here, why didn't you say?" The silence that fell upon the group had the pieces click together in Margaret's mind and all she could do as shake her head.
"Oh, Charles." The M.I.B looked at Charles confusedly, a "what" falling from his mouth ignorantly. Charles finally realised his mistake when he turned back to look at Hank.
"I am so, so very sorry," he said sincerely. Hank looked worried now that his secret was finally out but the M.I.B just looked confused.
"Hank? Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, moving towards his researcher. The young scientist merely shrugged his shoulders.
"You never asked, so I never said," Hank mumbled, looking anywhere but his superior. Margaret patted the young man's shoulder and he sent her a thankful look.
"So, what? Your mutation is that you're super smart?" Raven asked, moving towards the small group surrounding Hank. Margaret looked between the two, a small smirk appearing on her face as she seen the smile on Raven's and the one on Hank's.
"I'll say, I graduated Harvard at the age of fifteen," Hank said, a proud look on his face. Margaret was still obsessing over the obvious attraction between the two young adults. Raven was very particular about the men she chose to like, so this look was a very rare and welcome thing for Margaret to see. "I wish that's all it was."
"You're among friends now, Hank," Charles said. "You can show off." Hank looked reluctant as he pondered his options. He seemed to fight with his conscience but after a brief and heavy pause, he moved away from the group and crouched down to untie his shoes.
The group gathered together to watch as he kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, revealing two large and animal-like feet. Margaret eyed the feet curiously, while Charles beside her did the same as he tilted his head slightly to the side to get a look at them. Raven just seemed impressed. Both agents however were shocked their colleague had hidden this for so long.
"Splendid," Charles laughed. Margaret glanced at him with a half-smile when Hank began to walk towards the hanging jet. He looked at the group and by his command they all took a step backwards.
In one quick motion, he had flipped himself into the air and clutched onto the small jet with his feet, hanging freely and swinging slightly from the scale. The whole group laughed impressively at his display, Margaret giving him an impressed applause.
Raven moved over to where he was dangling, Margaret watching them both with a brilliant and happy smile.
"You're amazing," Raven told him, earning a blush and a shy smile from the intelligent mutant.
Margaret nudged Charles and shot him a knowing glance, trying and failing to withhold her excitement about Raven's attraction. Charles tried his hardest to ignore his younger sister flirting with the smart scientist.
….
Margaret had changed and unpacked her bag after being led to her personal room. The small bed was far from comfortable but it was usable in Margaret's eyes. She had a full length mirror on the back of the door into her room, where she checked herself. She had pulled on some black cigarette pants and a plain black sweater. She felt very agent-like, if she did say so herself. She pulled on some short-heeled leather pumps before leaving her room, travelling down the hall as she searched for the kitchen.
She was in desperate need of a cup of tea.
After finding the kitchen, she settled down atop the barstools at the high counter and slowly nursed a cup of tea she had made.
"I'm sorry I haven't gotten a chance to speak with you yet, Miss. York." Margaret turned in her seat, looking towards the door where Moira McTaggert stood. Her short hair was pulled into a ponytail, her bangs sweeping just above her eyes. She was in some sweats, so she must be like Margaret and finding it hard to sleep.
"Agent McTaggert," she greeted, a smile on her face as she pulled out a stool for the agent. "Call me Margaret, please."
"Only if you call me Moira," the agent smiled and Margaret nodded with her own smile. Margaret offered her a cup of tea but Moira asked for coffee instead, so Margaret set to work making her beverage for her. "I'm sorry I was so short with you at the C.I.A, Margaret. My bosses manage to stress me out so much I can become mean."
Margaret waved a dismissive hand as she stirred the agent's coffee, before placing the mug in front of her. "Don't worry about that, Moira. I know exactly how that feels. Trying to work among men who think they're better than you simply for having a penis is quite a pain," Margaret laughed. Moira stared at her wide eyed for a moment, almost choking on her coffee. Margaret grinned at her and raised a brow as she sipped from her tea.
"I would have thought you British would be more-"
"Classy?" Margaret smiled. Moira shrugged. "Well, Charles may be a lot classier than I, but I wasn't raised in a wealthy family. I lived in a very middle class family in Essex when I was younger. My grandparents were well off though, so I managed to get into Oxford through them. I learned some etiquette among the fancier students there, but not much from the looks of things," Margaret smiled softly as she recalled her past.
"Do you speak to your family regularly? Since before all this even started I've always found it hard to keep in touch with my own family," Moira confessed. Margaret shrugged her shoulders and downed the last of her tea.
"My dad passed away in fifty-seven, so it's just my mum and siblings, but yes, I do speak to my family often. As often as I can now, anyway," Margaret sighed, Moira catching a sadness swim in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, that must have been hard for you," Moira offered. Margaret smiled gratefully but shrugged her shoulders again, brushing it aside.
"It was, my siblings weren't as old as me so I was comforting them more than anything at the time," Margaret replied. "He was a terrific man, though. And I do have the memories of him anyway, those I can be grateful for."
A short and heavy silence fell over them, the only sound breaking it occasionally would be Moira sipping her coffee. Margaret went about cleaning her mug and putting it away, cleaning the counters she had been using too to keep herself busy.
"When did you meet Charles and Raven?" Moira asked suddenly.
"Just before Christmas in 1956," Margaret smiled. "I met Raven the February after that because I was terrified of meeting Charles' family." Moira smiled softly as she listened as Margaret recalled her first meeting with Charles, and her brief and awkward one with Raven. "It took Raven and I a while to get used to one another, but by April we were practically sisters. I love that girl."
"You all seem very close," Moira agreed. Margaret nodded. "You and Charles particularly."
"Are we gossiping now, Agent McTaggert?" Margaret said, an amused smirk playing on her lips.
"I thought I'd test the gossip waters," Moira laughed. She had finished her coffee at this stage, and Margaret took it to clean that too. "You don't have to do that you know, there are cleaners."
"It keeps me busy," Margaret smiled. "But yes, Charles and I are very close. We have been since I went back to college after that Christmas, he's my closest friend." Moira furrowed her brow at her for a moment, something clicking in her head.
"Wait, so you two aren't together?" Margaret stared at her for a long moment before laughing suddenly.
"What? Of course not!" Margaret laughed, shaking her head. "What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you two are just very… Never mind," Moira laughed. Margaret raised her brow, urging her to carry on. "The way you act around one another, I just thought you two were closer than friends. I'm sorry for making assumptions."
"Don't be sorry, I suppose we only have ourselves to blame." Margaret lifted her arm up and she glanced at the watch on her wrist, reading the time. "It's getting late and I am exhausted after these last two days. Goodnight, Moira. I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Margaret."
If Margaret was being honest with herself she wanted to get out of there because she was embarrassed. If Moira had made that assumption, then who else had? It wasn't a secret to Margaret herself that she fancied Charles, but she thought it was just childish behaviour on her part. She was comfortable around him, very comfortable, and the way they acted was how they acted forever. But….
Margaret had been lost in her thoughts as she wound her way around corners and straight into the chest of a man. With a loud "Ooff!" from her, she looked up to stare at him. It was Erik, leather jacket on and briefcase in hand. Margaret eyed the briefcase oddly.
"Erik! I'm sorry, I didn't uh, hear you coming," Margaret laughed, pulling her eyes from the briefcase. He was glaring at her almost, for reasons unknown to Margaret but she wouldn't let the intense stare from his bluish-grey eyes. "Where are you going, Erik?" Her tone was serious, but her eyes were emotionless as she watched the metal-bending mutant.
"I've gotten what I needed," Erik began. Margaret narrowed her eyes at him, before briefly looking down at the briefcase and then back again. "I don't need to be here." He sidestepped around her, surprised he didn't hear any arguments from her.
"I won't stop you, Erik," he heard as he came towards the end of the hallway. "But Charles will. I know him well enough to know how persuasive he can be."
Erik paused in his steps before glancing over his shoulder, only catching a glimpse of her figure as she turned down the hallway and disappeared around the corner again.
Even with the limited amount of communication between the two mutants, Margaret always managed to get on Erik Lehnsherr's nerves.
Oxford University, 1957.
Margaret typed furiously at her second-hand typewriter, sliding the platen across again when it dinged, before she continued typing again. Her mind was focused solely on finishing her assignment, after leaving it to the last minute as usual. She sighed as she slid the platen across again, sitting back in her chair for a rest.
A knock came from her door and she called for whoever was out there to come in. She let her head fall back and she stared with a smile at the upside-down figure at her door. Shirley walked in, hesitantly it seemed and she leaned against the doorframe lazily.
"Phone for you, Mags," she said. Margaret noted her quiet voice and sad eyes, and she shot out of her chair and brushed past her in the space of a few milliseconds. Something had happened, and her heart ached at the assumptions her mind was making up.
She found her way to the hall's shared telephone, staring at the dangling receiver before she found the courage to finally lift it up. She took a deep breath and held the phone to her ear, squeezing her eyes shut before she spoke.
"Hello?"
A whimper sounded from the other end of the line and she knew her assumptions were correct.
"Peggy, love?" Her mother was crying, her voice strained as she spoke on the other end of the call. Margaret shook her head softly, trying to force down the lump in her throat before she spoke again.
"Yeah, mum, it's me," she replied. She could hear her mother wipe her nose from where she stood and she inhaled deeply for the news she was about to hear.
"Peggy, darling, your dad isn't getting any better," her mother began, still crying. Margaret presumed it was the first time she had allowed herself to cry with someone else to witness it. Margaret's heart broke as she listened to her mother's strained words. "The doctor said that he might last the next two days. So, I said I'd get you down here as soon as possible."
She knew it was inevitable, but hearing it for the first time properly, had her heart breaking into a million pieces. Her father won't be around after the weekend was over? How would she function after Monday, how would she go back to college knowing her dad wasn't there to egg her on at the end of every week during their weekly phone calls?
"I'll be there, mum," Margaret promised. She felt the first tear slip down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly before anyone noticed. "I'll get the first train down. Don't you worry, I'll be there."
"Good girl," her mother whispered. "Good girl. Your dad promised he won't be going anywhere until he sees you. Just like him, aye?" Margaret smiled but that didn't stop the tears from spilling. She leaned her forehead against the wall as she listened to her mother sniffle from the other side of the call. "You just make sure you get down here safely, okay love? I'll see you soon."
"I'll see you, mum. I love you," Margaret said, feeling the first sob escape from her lips. Her shoulder shook as she cried against the wall, hearing her mother's own "I love you" come through the line before she bid her farewell and hung up the phone.
She stayed there for a brief moment, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed silently in the empty hallway. But she took a few deep breaths, wiped her face and stood up straight. She knew that the coming days would be tough for her, but she had to get there in one piece. So she inhaled in last time and exhaled softly before turning on her heel and making her way to her room to pack her things.
…
"Where's my little Pegs?" She heard her father say. Margaret pushed past the nurse and doctor crowding the doorway and threw her arms around her very frail-looking father. He let out a hearty laugh, running a hand over her hair and leaving a kiss on her cheek before she pulled away, displaying her tear-streaked face. "Oh, come on now, Peggy. None of that. You know I don't like seeing you cry."
"Sorry, dad," she smiled, wiping her face with the tissue she pulled from her pocket. "I was just so upset."
"I'm sorry, love," he said, wrapping a hand around hers. She chewed on her bottom lip as she sniffled and continued to wipe the tears from her face. "I never meant for this to happen."
"I know, dad. Don't blame yourself," she replied, squeezing his hand. Margaret moved to sit on the edge of his bed, noting his bald head and patting his head lightly. "You looked better with hair, dad. We should've gotten you a wig." Her father laughed loudly at her, shaking his shining head with an amused smile.
"I've never looked more handsome," her father retorted, earning a laugh from his eldest daughter. He was happy to see her, but he was happier to see she was still laughing even with the sadness he was bringing into his family's life at this time. "Did you come down here on your own?"
"Yeah, I came straight from the station. Maybe I should have rang mum, but I wanted to see you alone for a minute before the cavalry comes charging," she smiled. Her father nodded softly, his smile never leaving his face as he watched his daughter.
They continued to talk for the next few minutes, about college and about her social life. She managed to slip past the subject of Charles, since her father always had a soft spot for him and always had to wish that Margaret and him would get together. Margaret had always thought it was because her dad was aware of how wealthy Charles actually was, but her father had seen how the two acted around one another.
"Your mum is on her way up," her father said suddenly. Margaret furrowed her brow, looking at him oddly.
"And how could you possibly know that?" she asked, an amused smile now playing on her lips as she ate. She had robbed the sandwich her father didn't want to eat, and since she hadn't eaten her better judgment was overthrown by the need for food.
"I've noticed that the nurses all get this frightened look on their faces whenever she steps foot in the hospital," he said, laughing loudly as he seen her coming down the hospital corridor with his four other kids in tow. "The British are coming! The British are coming!"
"You're very lucky she didn't hear that," Margaret laughed, turning her eyes to the door when she seen her mother enter.
"Margaret! When did you get here? I thought you were coming to the house first," her mother said in a hurry. Margaret glanced at her father and they both shared an amused smile before Margaret turned again to her mother.
"I wanted to see dad alone first," she said, getting up off the bed and crossing her way over to the door where she hugged her mother tightly and kissed her cheek. "Hi, mum."
"Hello, love," her mother smiled, cupping her cheek before her mother moved to speak to her father.
"Hey, Pegs," her younger brother, Tommy, greeted. Margaret seen the look on his face. He was the only boy, so him and their father were especially close. They were even beginning to work together, Tommy becoming an apprentice to their father. But that came to an end when he got sicker.
"Hey, Tom," she smiled. She pulled her brother into a tight and long embrace, pressing a kiss to his cheek. They were close, Margaret and Tommy, but as he got older Margaret was finding it hard to keep up with her little brother.
Margaret's second youngest sister, Grace, moved straight to giving Margaret a hug. The thirteen year-old hadn't said a word to her, but she didn't need to. Grace had been sobbing since she had found out the news and Margaret could see it on her face when she finally pulled away. The younger girl looked up at Margaret, her round face red and her brown eyes red from crying. Margaret ran a hand over her face, ridding them of any extra tears before Grace moved away wordlessly.
Almost as if on cue, Margaret's youngest sister, Jane, leapt from the bed she was sitting on and crashed into Margaret's midsection.
"I missed you, Peggy," she mumbled into Margaret's skirt. Margaret glanced at her mother, where Jane had been sitting, as she gave her a knowing look. Her mother, Mary, managed a smile as she watched her youngest finally get to embrace her eldest.
"I missed you too, Janey," Margaret replied, bending down to become eye-level with the nine year-old. "I won't be going for a while, now, okay?"
"Okay," the young girl replied. The youngest York child looked exactly as Margaret did when she was her age, what with her large and brown eyes and thick lashes, button nose and high cheekbones. Even their lips had the same small upper-lip and fuller bottom one. Her siblings were very alike, but Margaret and Jane were a lot more alike than the others.
The family sat around together, all of them trying their hardest to ignore the fact that this would probably be the last time they'd be together as a full family ever again. Margaret returned to her cross-legged position at the end of her father's bed, Jane sitting in between her legs. Grace sat beside them, hugging her knees to her chest as she conversed with her father. Her mother sat in the uncomfortable leather chair to the side, and Thomas sat on the edge on their father's left side.
"It's always nice seeing us all together," her father said absentmindedly, after he finished speaking to Grace about her schooling. "It's hard now, what with Margaret away at college. I'm glad you made it down, love."
"You always told me to stay in Oxford and focus on my studies," Margaret replied, smiling softly. Their father chuckled lightly and nodded, looking to his wife.
"I know, I should've asked you to come down more often," her father said. Margaret ignore Jane who fiddled with her fingers, glancing up at her older sister from in between her legs. "But Thomas here, he's been working very hard in the shop. He's even better than you now, Margaret."
Margaret beamed proudly at her little brother, who glanced at her shyly. "Well done, little brother. Although, I wouldn't go that far. No one's as good as me," Margaret said, jutting her chin out with pride. Thomas rolled his eyes at her as their father laughed loudly, her mother sighing amusedly.
The air around them became more casual, and soon they were talking like normal. It was a nice feeling, for the whole family, a small piece of normal before their lives would be changed forever.
…
"Peggy, love." Margaret turned to face her father, reaching to the back of her neck to fix the collar of her coat. Her mother and siblings had left an hour prior but the nurses were putting their foot down, almost forcing Margaret to leave since it was well past visiting hours. "Come here for a minute. I want to tell you something before you go."
"What, dad?" She sat on his left side and rested her hand on his. His hands were still the same as she remembered, big and callous from working on engines. She was surprised to see them so clean, though, since he would usually have splotches of grease or car oil.
"I know what I'm putting you all through is… something I can never apologise enough for," her father began, coughing back the lump in his throat. "But I want you to know that I'm sorry. For everything I put you all through. I left you and your mother to care for the kids when you were young during the war and now I'm doing it all over again, but this time I won't be coming back." Margaret watched him carefully, but didn't interrupt him. "And I'm sorry. I wish I could do something to make this better, but I can't."
"You don't have to apologise to me, Dad. But maybe you should talk to mum, properly, before you go," Margaret managed after a heavy pause. She squeezed his hand before leaning down to hug him tightly, squeezing him before pulling away. "I love you."
"I love you too, love. So much, more than life itself," he said softly, moving forward to press a kiss to her forehead. She filed that feeling to memory, promising herself that she would never forget that feeling for as long as she lived. "Much more than that secret you're hiding too."
Now that caught her off guard.
"What secret?"
"Oh, Pegs, you really think you kept that secret hidden from me and your mother?" he said, a smile on his face. "You're mum was scared, she still is, but I told her not to do anything about it. I knew you could handle it and look at you, you went to university and all while being able to make things float." Margaret couldn't believe this. "Quite the accomplishment, my love."
"You could have said something," Margaret laughed. She couldn't believe what he was saying. He knew! All along! "And here I thought I was being so careful with it."
"We knew something happened when Janey was sent to hospital," her father said. Margaret looked down. "Don't blame yourself for that love, because Jane certainly doesn't. Neither does anyone else." She nodded softly and lifted her head to look at him. "You're friends, Charles and Raven?"
"What about them?" she asked.
"They're the same as you, aren't they?" After a moment of staring blankly at him, Margaret nodded to her father's question. "And did they help you? Control it, I mean?" Again, she nodded in response. "Well, tell them thank you from me. I've nothing to give them for helping my best girl but you tell them I'm eternally grateful for what they've done."
"Of course, dad," Margaret whispered, nodding quickly. "Of course I will." She turned and seen the Nurse at the door, tapping her watch with her pen. Margaret sighed and nodded to her, turning again to face her father. "I'll see you tomorrow, dad."
"I'll see you then, love," her father smiled, kissing her hand before she stood up again and making her way to the door. "And tell that Charles bloke one last thing for me, will you?" Margaret leaned against the door to listen to him, raising a brow at him. "Tell him he's an idiot for not marrying you!"
"Ugh, dad, just because you want to marry him doesn't mean I do," Margaret argued, scoffing as she turned on her heel and began to make her way down the corridor.
"That's a lie! You love him, Margaret Elizabeth York!"
"You're delusional, Patrick Michael York!" She could hear her father's hearty laughter from down the hall, a smile on her face as she skipped down the stairs to the exit.
…
Her father died two days after she arrived, on a Sunday.
Her mother was with him all night, laying with him until she heard his breathing stop. She hasn't stopped crying since.
Margaret's other relatives, mainly cousins and aunts and uncles from both sides made their way to give their condolences to the family but Margaret barely interacted properly with them. The funeral was coming up, and she was feeling numb.
They all gathered outside the church where the Mass was to take place. Margaret climbed out of the black car they rented, staring up at the large bell tower under the grey clouds. It was a bad day for a bad occasion, a fitting situation.
"I'll be in in a minute, mum," Margaret said, leaning against the car. Her mother nodded softly, grabbing Grace's and Jane's hands, while Thomas followed behind them with his head bowed. They looked like a sorry bunch, and Margaret needed a moment to herself.
She smiled at everyone that passed her, thanked those that gave their condolences but she waited a brief and quiet moment after they had all gone in. The Mass wouldn't start for a while, since they had to wait for the reverend to arrive and people to get their seats.
"Margaret?"
She couldn't turn fast enough. She turned away from the car and looked up at the large church doors, seeing none other than her favourite telepath coming down the stone steps.
She hadn't noticed she was holding her breath because when she exhaled, it came out as a sob as she finally broke down. She hadn't cried when she found out her father had died and she hadn't cried when she seen her family cry, she felt she needed to be the stronger one, just like Thomas did. The two siblings were far too similar, and Margaret was still yet to see Thomas cry over their father's passing.
She felt relief when Charles wrapped his arms around her, giving her a chance to break down for a moment before she had to face a crowd of sombre people without crying. Charles squeezed her tightly, rubbing her back while she sobbed onto his shoulder. After a moment, she pulled away and wiped her eyes, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes before looking at him for a long moment.
"What are you doing here? I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going," Margaret mumbled, shrugging her shoulders while she continued to wipe her face.
"Shirley told me. She told everyone, actually," Charles sighed. Margaret rolled her eyes but didn't complain, feeling too exhausted to rant about Shirley and her big mouth. "I couldn't let you go through this alone, Margaret. Neither could Raven, we both got the first train down as soon as we heard."
She pulled him in for another quick and tight embrace, smiling to herself. "Thank you, Charles. For everything."
"Don't thank me, love," he said. She pulled away and he took her hand in his. "I think it's time we head inside though, I seen your mum looking for you when you didn't follow her in after a while."
Margaret looked over his shoulder to stare at the church's doors, sighing softly. She looked at the telepath again and pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling softly when she stared at him again.
"I love you, Charles Xavier," she said softly, squeezing his hand before pulling away and making her way up the steps towards the church. He watched as she left him there, staring as she pulled open the doors and making her way inside.
Even though his curiosity was growing, he didn't look into her mind to see the context behind her sudden declaration. After realising he was still standing there, he made his way back towards the church doors and made his way inside, searching the crowd for the woman he was here for.
Raven caught his eye and he moved to sit next to her a few rows away from where he finally spotted Margaret sitting with her family. He watched silently as the Mass began, unaware of just how much Margaret had meant that "I love you".
…
"My dad was…. He was amazing." Margaret stood at the podium, holding a blank piece of paper in her hand. She was winging it. Her mother would kill her. "He always had something funny to say and he had a knack for making things better. It was a good gift to have, in my opinion. But, if there was one thing he was the best at it was being a father. As cliché as that sounds, he really was. He had so much love for his family, it amazed me because even when him and mum would argue over silly things, he'd always be the one to apologise. He's always be the one to make my mum laugh after an argument or make one of us kids laugh after a nightmare or a tumble. He brought light into the room whenever he walked in and he just made things better. He was incredible, I can't say it enough. I adore him, I will always adore my father. And I'm glad he'll never catch me saying this because he'd hold it against me, but he was always right. Always. About everything. He was right about me, about anything I was thinking about or feeling, he always knew what it is and he always had the right solution to it. But me, being the stubborn girl that I am, I won't follow that solution until the very last second.
"I'll miss my dad so much. And so will my siblings. They asked me to speak on their behalf, each deciding to give me a letter they wrote to say aloud. They're a shy bunch, the younger Yorks." The crowd chuckled softly as Margaret fished into the pocket in her dress and pulled out three, folded up pieces of paper.
"This first one is from Thomas." Margaret cleared her throat before she read aloud. "Dad. It's Thomas. I'm sure you know this already, but I love you. We all do. You just had a way of making people love you, I don't know what it is, but it's like a gift. You managed to make everyone like you no matter what, the same way Jane does. I suppose it skipped a couple of us, because Grace, Peggy and I aren't exactly the easiest to get along with. I think we got that from mum, but don't tell her I said that." Margaret looked up from the page briefly. "Sorry mum." The crowd laughed and their mother smiled, but Margaret continued. "But since Margaret has to read this out, I'll end it with this: I love you, dad. You don't know how grateful I am for everything you've done for us as a family and me, as a man. You got me a job. A career. And you thought me more than I could ever be grateful for, but I'll try to live the same way you did: with a smile on my face and love for my family. Thank you dad, I'll miss you forever. Love always, Thomas."
Margaret folded up Thomas's letter and unfolded the next one, smiling at the scribbling writing of her youngest sister. "This one is Janey's." She took a deep breath before she began reading from the page. "Dear dad, you're gone to heaven now. I don't really understand what happened to you, mum doesn't explain things really well and Peggy doesn't do medicine in school. I just know that I'll miss you when you're in heaven, and I'll see you when I get there too, hopefully when I'm as old as nana. It's weird but whenever anyone talks to me about you, I think about when I was in the hospital not when you were. You stayed with me every night while mum went home to make sure everyone got to school on time. You didn't go to work and we played games every day when I was in hospital. You even kept it a secret from mum when Peggy skipped school to visit me. We would eat sweets she'd buy on the way and play together all day until she had to go home. It was the best time. I wish we could go back to then. I wish you weren't in heaven, but I suppose everything will be okay in the end. That's what you kept saying and you're always right. I love you dad. Say hello to nana and grandad for me. Love, Jane."
Margaret wiped her eyes before she unfolded the last one, sighing when she seen how short Grace's was. "Dad, even though you promised you wouldn't go away again, you did. And even though I know you blame yourself for what happened, we don't. We never will. I don't have much to say in this since I said it to you before you died anyway, so I'll leave it here for now. I love you, dad. We'll see you soon. Love always and forever, your Grace."
Margaret peered out over the crowd and settled on her two friends. Raven struggled to keep herself together, breaking down beside Charles. He watched Margaret carefully, but she was happy to not feel him rooting through her brain. She inhaled deeply before she opened her mouth again to speak. "Thank you for listening to me. Mostly ramble, on my part and cry through those letters. I'm sure my dad would be so amazed to see how many people appreciated him as much as we did, I'm sure since you can't help it around him. But he asked me to give his thanks to someone. My friends, Charles and Raven. He knew in the end how you two helped me, and he was grateful, and he was sorry he couldn't thank you both in person for the amount of help you both gave me. I'll end it here though, I think I've talked enough. But, dad? If you're listening to me, which I hope you are, I'll miss you. More than anyone would ever know. You were my rock and now, I have to be my own. But you taught me so well, I'm sure I'll be okay. We'll all be okay, so don't worry and just have fun up there and get things ready for when we meet you again. I love you, dad. I'll see you."
This ended up being a lot longer than I meant it to be. But sure shit happens and I enjoyed writing the family bits.
Please review this! I'd appreciate it!