Note: Thank yah kindly for the reviews!
Chapter 4: The Ghost of a Good Thing
10:41 pm
Moira's Bedroom
Apartment in NYC
"Moira…"
She snapped her eyes open, hearing his call again. It'd been four months since she'd last freshly heard the sound of Charles' voice. But it'd haunted her dreams every night since then. The ex-wife of Charles Xavier, the great telepath, always knew her love was beyond marvelous. Too great for his own good, some would say. But to transfer his mutant abilities into a hospitalized human? It was simply impossible.
Or was it?
Moira reached for her glasses, which rested on the bedside table to her right. After slipping them on she read the digital clock on the same table. 10:42 PM, it flashed. It was quite early for her to retire for the evening. Usually she'd be doing extra medical work late into the night, but the exhaustion of such a task caught up to her.
Through the window a moderate breeze blew into the room, ruffling the baby strands of hair that circled Moira's face. The light pink colored night dress she wore to bed hung loosely from her shoulders as she stood from her bed and stretched. She shuffled her bare feet into the conjoining bathroom and flicked on the light.
Her home was silent, not a whisper anywhere. When Moira had first moved into the apartment the noiseless residence gave her an eerie feeling and she slept with the TV on for the first two months until she got used to Charles no longer lying beside her to protect her.
Charles. She missed him deeply. Their marriage ending was the last strand she had. Divorce was never something Moira wanted to result in, neither had Charles. But it had to be done. They were too busy with their work and so Moira moved into her apartment, and Charles into the Xavier Mansion.
Yet despite their distance and indifferences, they never ran out of love.
Moira turned the faucet in the bathroom on and filled her cupped hands with the warm liquid of water. She smiled small to herself at the remembrance of Charles in the early morning, waking her with his daily shower. She looked up to take a look at her aging self.
And gasped.
More than one person was gazing back at her.
11:13 pm
Courtyard
Striking a match, Logan lit another cigar that rested between his lips. The night was young and the tiredness he'd come accustomed to feeling was being pushed away. His mind had a million questions running through, all of which could never be answered thanks to the death of Charles Xavier.
What exactly was 'The Cure'? How long could it damage someone of his kind? Were there more out there? Could he get one? What would happen if he were to actually take 'The Cure'? Would his mutant ability merely disperse the substance from his system and remain mutant forever? Or would he become human, and finally be able to age regularly and not have to watch the friends around him parish? Like Jean.
Jean...
If what ol' Chuck said was true, then what Logan saw was the real Jean Grey. Evil. Pure evil, and manipulative. She wasn't what he thought she was. Had he fallen for the true Jean Grey? Or was he in love with the image Xavier had created of her?
Logan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck while kicking the grass below him. His four months away had left him with the same repeated questions and unknown answers. He wanted more then anything to move on and help Ororo and Hank with the kids. 'Ro was right; they needed him more then ever. He had to push Jean and her death to the back of his mind…
…But he still couldn't let her go.
A/N: Bit of a cliffhanger with Moira, am I right!