August 29, 1974
"Congratulations. You've just blown up the whole damn plane," Alex said.
Warren winced and bit the inside of his cheek. He knew that the rest of his teammates were watching him, waiting for their turn on the Blackbird simulation.
"I thought that would turn on the thrusters," Warren said.
"It was the wrong button," Alex said, "Pressing that along with the fuel light makes the fuel dump into the combustion engines. Hence you blowing up the plane, yourself, and probably half the Institute."
Warren winced again, wishing that Sean were there. He was never as demanding as Alex was, and he would act as a kind of filter to Alex's comments. However, he knew that he was out with his daughter. Warren wanted to begrudge him that, but he'd been the one who carried the frightened little girl to Sean. They needed time together. It was plain to see.
At the same time, he didn't know why Alex getting on his back about flying the Blackbird. He had become harder on him in the past few days when it came to the simulations. Warren wasn't sure why he bothered: he already had Jean trained to the point where she could fly if there was an emergency.
Still, he knew that he wasn't allowed to question his orders.
"Try the one on the left," Alex said.
Warren pressed the button on the lift and the simulator shook. He looked up at Alex, who nodded in approval.
"Now take her out," he said.
Taking a deep breath Warren pulled the controls back. He felt the simulator rumble and, for a moment, he wondered if he was going to crash again. However, the rumbling went away. The simulator smoothed out and, a minute later, he saw an image of the sky light up on the simulator screen. Warren grinned.
"You've mastered take-off," Alex said, "As long as you don't blow the thing up in five minutes."
Fighter jets appeared on the side of the plane. Warren moved to open communication channels, but he saw that one of them fired. He gripped the controls instead and moved to avoid them. It made a screeching noise, but he managed to get away without the missile making contact. He opened the communication channels.
"This is a civilian aircraft-" he said.
They fired again. Warren turned the plane to the side.
"Engage or run?" Alex asked.
Warren looked at the fighter jets. He switched on the thrusters.
"Run," he said.
He pushed the controls further. To his relief and joy he felt the simulator move forward smoothly. A few minutes later the planes disappeared from the radar.
"Good choice," Alex said, "We can't have the military after us because we blew up their planes."
He clapped a hand on Warren's shoulder.
"Good job," he said, "I think I'll let you fly it next time."
Warren looked up at him, surprised.
"Not for very long," he said, "But still."
Warren grinned.
"Thank you sir," he said.
Alex grinned back and jerked his head backwards. Warren unbuckled and got out of the seat. Ororo gave him a thumbs-up as she got into the pilot's seat. He sat back in one of the passenger's seats and buckled up. Ororo began to flip on the switches under Alex's watchful eye. She was just about to do the last one before the door opened and Moira walked into the room.
"Alex, do you have a minute?"
"In the middle of something," Alex said.
"It's important," Moira said, "And it's kind of for the whole team."
He sighed and looked at Ororo.
"You can restart the sequence in a minute," he said.
Ororo frowned and pressed the 'off' button. She exchanged a frustrated look with Warren before they turned to Moira.
"At the end of last year a couple of you applied for the conference on Mutant Rights in New York City," Moira said, "Which is in a few days."
Warren felt a lump in his throat. Why did this have to be now? He'd been feeling good, and now that was about to be ruined.
"And you know that they only accept two delegates," Moira said, "And there were three applicants. They couldn't take everyone, and I'm sorry about that. I think all of you deserved to go."
He bit the inside of his cheek. It appeared that some deserved it more than others.
"The conference came back to us today," she said, "It accepted Jean and Warren."
Warren blinked. He heard someone congratulate Jean, saw Ororo flash him another thumbs-up. He felt his muscles tense as his head shot up.
"What?" he asked.
"They asked for Jean Grey and Warren Worthington II," Moira said.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Moira smiled gently and nodded.
"I'm sure," she said.
Warren bit his lip to keep from crying. For once in his life someone, somewhere, had seen him as better than Scott. He couldn't believe it. He knew that his grades were a little better than Scott's, but still, he knew that Scott led more teams than he did. Perhaps the 'Genetics Club,' as the X-men sometimes called themselves, didn't amount to much in the eyes of the conference selection committee.
He felt a hand clap on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Alex standing there.
"Why, does it strike you as sounding strange?" he asked.
Warren managed a smile.
"No sir," he said.
"Good," Alex said.
He turned to the rest of the group. Warren noticed that Scott's smile looked a little forced. He knew that it shouldn't, but it filled him with a deep satisfaction.
"Alright, congratulations to our representatives!" Alex said.
There was a smattering of applause. He heard Ororo whistle and Warren managed to grin at her.
"It's on September third," Moira said, "So all of you pack up, alright?"
"That's pretty short notice," Jean said.
"It's the conference's first year," Moira said, "I imagine they'll smooth these things out later."
She looked up at Alex.
"Try not to wear them out between now and then," she said.
"I make no promises," Alex said.
He turned back to them.
"Speaking of which," he said, "Ororo, you're up."
"They're going to need a chaperone," Moira said.
Charles nodded. They were standing at opposite ends of the room. David's fever had broken, but it was his nap time. She wished he were there. Charles was always in a better mood whenever she was with David. However, if they were going to have another fight then she would just have to be prepared. David couldn't see that.
"I know," Charles said, "I don't think that Sean or Alex would work though. With Warren and Jean missing, we'll need them here in case the X-men are needed."
"Agreed," she said.
She swallowed. She didn't want to say what she was going to say next, but she knew it needed to be said.
"It should probably be me," Moira said.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"I'm the only one available," Moira said.
"But still," Charles said, "What about David?"
"He can't come with me," Moira said, "There's too much going on there, too many reasons why taking him so far would be bad."
"I wasn't suggesting that," Charles said, sounding snappish.
She sighed.
"I figured that you could take care of him for a few days," Moira said, "The conference is only three days long after all. It'll be one day to travel up there, and one to travel back. I'll be gone for a grand total of five days. You won't even miss me."
Moira turned away.
"Not that you would."
There was a silence.
"Moira…that's unfair."
She looked over her shoulder at Charles, saw that there was some pain there. Good. It meant that he felt something about their situation .She hadn't just imagined it the last time that they had fought. She could use this, work with it. It meant that what she was about to suggest next might have a positive outcome.
"Charles, I've been doing some thinking lately," Moira said, her voice quiet.
She saw Charles tense, his whole body going rigid. The words that she had carefully rehearsed in her head seemed paltry and crude now that she actually had to say them.
"We both know that our marriage...well...it isn't what it was," Moira said, "And I think that it's time that we discussed this."
She turned. Charles gave her a weak smile.
"You sure know how to start an afternoon," he said.
Moira closed her eyes before walking over to his desk. She had to keep the desk between herself and him. If she didn't there would be no buffer, no way for her to shield herself against the emotions that she was feeling. She had to keep her distance. It was the only way that she could force herself to do what needed to be done.
"Things have been bad lately," Moira said, "You know that."
Charles sighed and nodded, steepling his fingers and resting his head down on the perch that they formed.
"David's getting older," she said, "We can't hide our problems from him forever. I don't think that we can even hide them from the boys much longer."
Charles nodded, their unspoken agreement to keep their marital problems quiet finally acknowledged.
"I don't want my son growing up in this kind of environment," she said.
"I understand," Charles said, "My parents..."
He looked away. Moira's heart broke for him. She knew that his parents had argued for years before his father had died. After that his mother had become a distant figure. If it hadn't been for Raven, he would have grown up completely alone. Moira felt angry at putting him through this, but she didn't know what else to do.
"David deserves better," Charles said.
"He does," Moira said, "And...more than that Charles, we deserve better."
He tensed even further, his eyes closed.
"Charles, it doesn't have to be this way," Moira said.
"You said it yourself," he said, "It already is."
She reached out and touched his hand. He looked up at her, his eyes wide.
"When we got married," she whispered, "I said until death do us part. I meant that Charles. I..."
She took a deep breath.
"I still do," she said, "But I need to know that you'll fight for us, for what we are. Because I don't know how this happened. All I know is that I can't fix this alone."
"It's not my fault," he said.
His voice sounded weak. Moira increased her grip on his hand. Words wanted to gush out of her mouth, to rail at him for not spending time with her and David, for putting his work before them. However, now wasn't the time. She had to get him to agree to what she wanted first, had to get things to work.
"I don't think it's anyone's fault Charles," Moira said, "But we need to fix it."
She looked down.
"My going to New York can be a good thing," Moira said, "It will give us time apart to...to think on things."
"Think on things?" Charles asked.
Moira nodded.
"While I'm gone, think about what you want," Moira said, "And when I come back, tell me what you've decided. And…we can figure out what to do from there."
She squeezed his hand.
"Please, think about it," Moira said.
Charles closed his eyes and looked down. Moira let go of his hand and left his office. She didn't look back, didn't cry. She couldn't risk it.