September 4, 1974
Warren had to strain his eyes to see the gentle rising and falling of Moira's chest, her breath fading. Warren watched as the Professor's grip tightened on her hand, his eyes squeezing shut even further. Most of the X-men were looking away, as were the Brotherhood. Even Lance had the decency to turn his back.
Alex and Sean hadn't turned back though. Warren knew that they had known her since they were fifteen. She'd been married to the Professor for years. He'd always seen her a fixture of the school. Moira had been the first one to greet him at Westchester, to show him to his room. She'd been a force in the background, but a powerful one.
Now she was dying. Warren could only stare. Death hadn't really seemed like an option for any of them. They had all been in dangerous situations, but they had come out alright. Sean had been mangled months ago and come out alright, jumping back into the fray. Warren had never seen Moira as fragile: she'd been the one to give the first X-men their basic training. They had built off it, but Warren had always known that she could take care of herself.
At the same time, she wasn't a combatant. She was a member of their support group. Moira wasn't supposed to be in danger, let alone be injured. Warren knew that it was a possibility, had even accepted her being in the conference center when Sinister invaded, but death was something entirely different.
It appeared that there wasn't any sort of defense against the virus that was running through her. There wasn't any cure for it, no way to heal her. Warren stared, his mind sparking and fuses burning. It was like a firework show was going off in his head as he watched Moira and the Professor.
He moved of his own accord, pushing Alex and Sean out of the way.
"Archangel," Alex said, his voice threatening.
Warren knelt by the Professor and Moira, his mind still exploding in fireworks. He waved his hands for a minute.
"Anyone have anything sharp?" he asked.
Warren received blank looks in return, except for Alex, who was furious. Boom-Boom blinked at him and turned to Magnetrix, her expression fervent.
"Give him one of your knives," she said.
Warren looked at her gratefully.
"What?" Magnetrix asked.
"Trust me," Boom-Boom pleaded.
Frowning Magnetrix drew one of her knives. She tossed it over to Warren, who caught it. He looked back at Charles and Moira as he pushed up his uniform sleeve. He was uncertain, but he needed to make sure. There was no way that he could live his life wondering what would have happened if he'd tried.
"Archangel, what the hell are you doing?" Alex demanded.
"One minute," Warren said.
He looked at Moira uncertainly. It had been so much more obvious with Boom-Boom. He'd have to take a chance with her.
"Archangel!"
Warren put his arm over Moira's face and cut open one of his veins. He winced, part of him wishing he'd chosen a smaller vein, but the blood trickled from his arm into Moira's mouth. He saw her splutter, her throat weakly swallowing. He was relieved: he'd worried that she'd be too weak to swallow.
"The hell!" Alex yelled.
He heard Alex move forward. Warren turned just in time to see Boom-Boom put her hand out and grab Alex's arm. He glared at her, but Boom-Boom stood firm.
"He knows what he's doing," she said.
Warren hoped he did.
The music was barely a whisper now. Tears streamed down Charles's cheeks as Moira's eyes closed slightly. They were still open, but he knew that they weren't going to remain that way for much longer. He could already feel the pain from her impending death begin to seep into his mind. He had promised to stay there until the end though. Charles wasn't going to break his promise for the world.
He wanted to close his eyes, but he kept them open. He was going to see her for her final moments. After everything that she had given him, he owed her this. More than that, it was all he was going to have in the years to come, years that should have been spent together, loving each other and watching their son grow up.
It was why he noticed the slight lightening of the room. Charles blinked. All around them he could see the sun start to stream in through the windows. The music grew a little stronger. Signs of life were appearing outside the windows, and the dimmed lights seemed to be turning back on.
Charles gaped. He could feel her body strengthening through their bond. He tried to figure out what was happening. It was certainly nothing that he was doing. Charles might have had the ability to keep her mind moving for a little while, but he couldn't heal her body, to stop it from being ravaged by the virus.
He briefly looked outside of Moira's mind. It hurt and he was loathe to leave her when he didn't know if everything was going to be alright, but he had to know. A peek outside showed Warren kneeling by them, a knife in one hand and his blood dripping into Moira's throat. He was shocked, but a quick look at Moira showed that she was getting better. Already there seemed to be more color in her skin.
Charles had no idea what was happening, but he wasn't about to question it. He pulled himself fully into Moira's mind. The light was getting stronger. He let out a laugh of relief. Charles could pull her back to consciousness now. She wasn't going to die. Everything was going to be alright.
"Moira, you're never going to believe this," he said.
He looked down, eager to see he eyes shining back up at him with the promise of life. However, Moira still remained slumped in his arms, her breath coming slowly. She was barely on her feet and her hands were limply on his chest. He stared, unsure of what was happening. She should be fine.
It was obvious that her body was repairing itself from whatever it was that Warren was doing, but she was still fading.
"Love," he said.
The light from the outside became stronger. Her body was healing, the virus slowly but surely being banished, but the chilling thought that her mind might be too far gone occurred to him. She had only been seconds away from death after all. She could end up comatose if they weren't careful, and he'd lose her anyway.
Charles gripped her tighter. They had come much too far for that.
"Moira, listen to me, listen to my voice," he said, "You have to concentrate. You have to stay awake."
She looked blearily up at him, her eyes unfocused. She began to slide down to the floor, but Charles gripped her waist and kept her on her feet.
"You have to fight this," he said, "Moira, you're going to live, but only if you fight. Do you understand me?"
She didn't respond. Charles could feel her mind slipping away from him.
The black veins around Moira's eyes and throat began to disappear. Her breath became stronger, but the Professor didn't look up. Warren kept his blood trickling, but he was starting to feel a little faint. He knew that he wasn't anywhere near his blood limit, but losing so at once much and seeing it all drain was making him feel queasy.
"What in the world?" Alex asked.
Warren didn't look up, but he closed his eyes. He couldn't see the blood that way.
"Sinister said my blood heals," he said, "He used it on Boom-Boom. I just…I thought that I might be able to do something."
"You're obviously doing something," Alex said, "You're obviously doing quite a bit of something."
He managed to open his eyes, looking away from the stream of blood. They were all looking at him. Warren swallowed.
"I guess," he managed.
"You guess?" Alex said.
Alex knelt beside him and reached into his utility belt. He pulled out a bandage and tied it to Warren's upper arm.
"Good thinking, but we need to be careful with this," he said.
He finished with the makeshift tourniquet and took the knife out of Warren's hand. Barely looking he tossed it back to Magnetrix, who caught it. Alex turned back to Moira, touching the small amount of her forehead that the Professor wasn't pressed against. He nodded as he withdrew his hand, his eyes excited.
"Her temperature's approaching normal," he said.
He frowned.
"She's not waking up though," he said.
Alex looked over at the Professor.
"Charles, she's going to be alright," Alex said.
The Professor didn't move.
"Charles?" Alex said.
The Professor's grip on Moira's hand tightened slightly, but he still didn't respond.
"He should be answering," Alex said.
Sean knelt by the two of them.
"Something's going on, something that we're missing," Sean said.
"What?" Warren asked.
Sean shook his head.
"I have no clue," he said.
Moira continued sliding, her eyelids fluttering. Charles grasped her arms desperately.
"Moira, I told you that things were going to be different," he said, "And I meant it. But I need you to stay concentrated. I need you to fight this, and then we can go back and we can make all of those changes. I can be better."
He could see that Moira was struggling to keep her eyes open. Charles gritted his teeth and poured more of his reserves into rejuvenating her mind. He knew it would leave him exhausted and burned out, but he had to use it. He had to be strong enough to keep her alive and well.
She was still having difficulty though. Charles felt like screaming in frustration, but he couldn't. He kept his arms wrapped around her.
"David's waiting back at Westchester," he said, "You know how distraught he was when you left for a day. Think about him. Please. You can come back now, you can fight this. We can win."
He wasn't sure though. Charles didn't know just how much control Moira had left, if she had the strength to fight what was going on. Moira was the strongest person he knew, but after everything that had happened her mind was burning out. He lent her as much strength as he could, his teeth gritted together.
"Please," he said.
Moira gripped the front of his chest, her fingers bunching the fabric.
"Moira," Charles said, "I told you I would stay with you until the end. But I don't want this to be the end. I want years and years. Moira…"
He swallowed, tears of frustration spilling from his eyes.
"Stay with me," he said.
Charles looked down at her. Moira's eyes were opening, her fingers digging into his skin as she pulled herself up.
"Charles," she whispered.
"I'm here," he said.
Her grip intensified.
"So am I," Moira said.
Charles held her to him.
"Then let's go home," he said.
He pulled her out, feeling his mind slot back into place. He was holding Moira, Warren leaning over them. Warren had withdrawn his hand, the cut still prominent on his arm. He'd begun to apply pressure to it, although Charles could tell that it would need stitches. Alex and Sean were kneeling nearby, looking intently at them. Charles barely noticed them though, his eyes fixed on Moira.
She hadn't opened her eyes. Charles ripped off his mask and held her closer.
"Moira?" he pleaded.
Moira coughed once, sitting up slightly. Her eyes opened and she smiled.
"Charles," she said.
Charles let out a choked breath. He kissed her, burying his hands in her hair. When he pulled back he kept his face close, even as he heard the X-men begin to cheer.
"I'm never letting you go," Charles said, "Never again."
Moira brought her hand up to his face.
"I'd never want you to," she said.
A/N: Two more chapters.