Chapter Seventy-Nine:


Sensing a familiar presence approaching, Charles Xavier smiled to himself, minimizing the files he had open on his laptop.

"Come in," he called out, just before his visitor could knock, and he chuckled, picking up on her annoyance.

The door opened and Rogue stepped into his office with a scowl on her face. "Ya get some kinda sick pleasure outta doin' that, don' ya?" she demanded, closing the door behind her.

"Perhaps," Charles conceded with a smile. "How was your breakfast this morning?"

"It was nice," Rogue replied. "Although if Remy keeps tryin' t' feed me like that, Ah'm gonna be the size of a whale by the time this kid is born."

"I highly doubt that," Charles said kindly, remembering from Jean's pregnancy just how insecure pregnant woman could be. "But it is good to see that Remy's excited about fatherhood."

"Excited may be an understatement," Rogue drawled, rolling her eyes. "Ah'm shocked he hasn't gone out an' started buyin' out the toy stores yet."

"It's a father's job to indulge his children," Charles remarked with a sad smile, his thoughts turning towards his own son David, who was in suspended animation until they could figure out a cure for his split personalities and their manifestations. He'd missed out on watching David grow up, and by the time he learned that he had a son, David's mutation had gotten so out of control that he'd never had a chance to spend any real time with his son.

Someday, he thought, determined that such a day would come.

A chime came from his laptop, and he glanced at the screen to find that Moira had just finished sending him the latest update on her research into a cure for the Legacy Virus. She'd been working around the clock the past few months, and she felt certain she was close to a breakthrough, so he continued to send her whatever funds she might need.

He had faith that she would find a way to undo the evil that Boliver Trask and William Stryker had unleashed upon the mutant population.

"Ah can come back if this is a bad time," Rogue offered, eyeing his laptop.

"Not at all," Charles assured her, folding it shut. He would have plenty of time to read through Moira's work later and get back to her with any thoughts he might have on the subject. Right now it was clear that Rogue needed something from him, and considering she'd had to make do without his help for the past four years, he wasn't going to make her wait any longer. "What can I do for you this afternoon, my dear?"

"Ah was actually wonderin' if ya might be able t' tell me what's become of Pietro?" Rogue asked with an unmistakable twinge of hope, a desperate thirst for answers that she'd no doubt when hungering for ever since being separated from the Acolytes during the Sentinel attack on Magneto's island.

"Ah, I was wondering when you might ask after Mr. Maximoff," Charles said with a small smile, folding his hands in front of him.

"Believe me, Ah've been tryin' t' be patient," Rogue replied, scrunching up her nose. "Ah figured that someone would mention him eventually, but it's like no one knows where he is."

"That's because no one does," Charles informed her evenly. "No one but me, that is."

"Why?" Rogue demanded in confusion.

"Because he requested that it be that way," Charles answered. "About two years ago, shortly after we opened this school, Pietro left the Acolytes."

He watched patiently as surprise flashed across Rogue's face, her green eyes widening, and then a flicker of triumphant pride set in across her features. "Ah knew he'd come t' his senses sooner or later," she said, more to herself than to him.

"Indeed," Charles agreed with a serious nod. "I approached him about a place with us, but, as I'm sure you can imagine, he was less than receptive to the idea."

Rogue snorted, rolling her eyes. "Figures," she said with a short laugh.

"Why don't you have a seat," Charles suggested, gesturing to the comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk that Jean had picked out when decorating his office. "And I shall tell you everything I know."

"Okay," Rogue agreed, dropping down into one of the chairs. "Shoot."

"When Pietro became disillusioned with the Acolytes, Erik was less than pleased," Charles began. "But he allowed him to leave freely. I think he was more disappointed than anything, he'd always intended for Pietro to be his heir and successor."

"Yeah, Ah know," Rogue murmured, and Charles truly believed that she did. Her base power of imprinting allowed her a rare insight into not only the thoughts, but the souls, of those she absorbed. It was possible that she knew them better than anyone, including the world's most powerful telepath.

"Shortly after Pietro left the Acolytes, he was contacted by Nick Fury," Charles explained. "S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited him to join a secret governmental team of mutants, led by a man named Steve Rogers." He gave her a speculative look, raising an eyebrow appraisingly. "I believe you know him as Captain America."

Rogue blinked, her lips parting in disbelief. "He woke up?" she asked incredulously. "The last Ah heard o' him, he was in a stasis tube or somethin'."

"Yes, he was woken up by S.H.I.E.L.D." Charles nodded. "They were able to cure him, and then helped finance his team of mutant superheroes, which work with the government to neutralize threats, both mutant and human alike. They call themselves the Avengers."

"The Avengers?" Rogue echoed with a chuckle. "Ain't that a bit dramatic?"

Despite himself, Charles pressed his lips together in amusement. "I suppose it is," he conceded.

"So Pietro's gone an' joined up wit' men in tights, huh?" Rogue mused, shaking her head. "Never thought Ah'd see the day that he admitted he was one o' the good guys."

"He's doing quite well, from what I've heard," Charles informed her evenly, knowing what she was avoiding having to ask. "And the Avengers have even faced off against Magneto one a few occasions, during which Pietro handled himself remarkably well, I might add."

"Ah'm glad," Rogue smiled, and it didn't take a telepath to see that she really was. "Ah always knew he could make somethin' o' himself, if he jus' got out from under his father's shadow."

"Your faith in him was the inspiration to leave the Acolytes, I believe," Charles said with a smile of his own, although his was bittersweet. "He was quite devastated by your apparent death, I think that's what led him to make the decision to leave. He wanted to honor your memory. To do you proud."

"He always has," Rogue murmured.

Despite his personal convictions not to peer into the minds of his students and fellow mutants, it was impossible to avoid picking up on a glimmering of thought and feeling now and then, and at that moment Charles sensed a strong swell of affection for the only son of Erik Lensherr from the young woman in front of him, and he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

It did him proud to see the woman that his former student had become, to see that even after all she had been through, she could still touch people's live the way she had Pietro's.

The way she had his.

When he'd been freed from the prison that had once held his half-brother Marko Cain, the prison that Raven had trapped him in, Charles had been horrified by the grim news that awaited him. His mansion was in ruins, his X-men had been outed as mutants and were on the run from the government and the frightened mobs, and to top it all off, three of their own were missing, captured by Boliver Trask and his Sentinel.

It had been a somber flight to Muir Island, during which he'd allowed the grim reality of the nightmarish turn their lives had taken to really sink in. It had seemed like only yesterday that his biggest concern was whatever trouble the Brotherhood stirred up, but now the Brotherhood and X-men were one and the same, banded together under the desperate situation they'd found themselves in.

Upon arriving at Muir Island, they'd been met by Moira, who had seen enough of the news broadcasts to know why'd come. She had given them shelter, a place to live and train while they tried to formulate the best course of action, a sanctuary from the outside world and the people who were hunting them. She'd even helped provide the materials needed to build a second Cerebro, which Forge had been able to recreate from scratch.

From the moment he'd been informed of his missing X-men, Charles had worked tirelessly to try and locate them, with little success until the newly built Cerebro picked up on Evan using his powers. A wave of triumphant relief had washed over him when he heard Cerebro's alert chimed, but it had faded after arriving at the Acolytes' temporary base.

While Hank and Evan were alive and well, Rogue was gone, probably dead.

It had been a particularly devastating blow to Raven, Logan and Kurt, who had been holding out hope that she would be found, but she never was. Charles had continued to look for her, of course, none of them were willing to give up yet, but as time stretched on, he had come to realize that it might be time to call the search of. The nightmare had lasted long enough, and keeping the search going was too painful for it to go on any longer. It wasn't doing any of them any good, and in their hearts most had already accepted that they were never going to find their missing teammate.

He still didn't know where exactly he'd gotten the idea to hold a memorial service for Rogue, but that decision had proven more therapeutic than anyone could have guessed. It had given them all a chance to say good-bye, to mourn her properly, and to try and move on with their lives.

The students had all spoken, reflecting on fond memories of good times and bad spent with Rogue, and there had been plenty of tears shed all around that day. Kitty and Jean had both gotten so choked up while talking that they had caused everyone else to burst into tears just listening to them, and Bobby had done what he did best, made them laugh as he recalled the down side to playing pranks on Rogue.

Neither Logan nor Raven had chosen to speak, a decision which Charles could understand all too well. Their grief was different from everyone else's, because they weren't mourning a friend or someone who was like family, they were mourning their daughter. No words could have done justice to their pain, and frankly Charles was relieved that they hadn't tried.

He was, however, disappointed that Kurt had not chosen to attend the ceremony. But the young mutant had been in denial at that point, refusing to believe that his sister was dead and angry with everyone else for accepting it.

In time, Kurt had made peace with it all, finding guidance and strength in his faith, and Rogue had become a bittersweet memory. She never completely vanished from their lives, it was hard not to think of her from time to time, especially when little things would constant surface to remind them of her, but for the most part they had allowed her to become something of the past. It was a painful step to take, but a necessary one if they were to ever get past that tragedy.

Only now it seemed there had never been a tragedy at all, save for the fact that they had mourned the death of a girl who was not dead, and that she had in turn mourned a living family that she thought dead.

The irony of it did not escape him, even now.

"Ya said that none o' the ot'ers know where he is," Rogue frowned in confusion. "Don' they know he's wit' the Avengers?"

"They know that much, yes," Charles replied with a slow nod. "But, at his request, I haven't told them anything more than that."

"Not even Wanda?" Rogue asked incredulously.

"Pietro felt it best that way," Charles explained. "He thinks he needs to redeem himself before he has contact with his sister. To make up for his past failures, I suppose."

"Or t' prove he's not his father," Rogue said quietly, something knowing in her tone that Charles decided not to press. Whatever inner demons or secret motivations of Pietro's that she knew, whether by imprinting or by simply talking with the boy, they were none of his business.

"That, too," he conceded. "And I imagine that you've given that subject a good deal of thought over the years."

"About wantin' t' prove Ah ain't like Erik?" Rogue drawled.

"I meant about proving you weren't like Raven," Charles responded smoothly. "Which you knew."

Rogue shrugged, biting her lip gently. "Ah felt like Ah somethin' t' prove at first, t' mahself if no one else, but Ah guess Ah realized at some point that genetics didn' make ya who ya are. It's the choices ya make in life that decide that, an' while Ah've surely made some mistakes along the way, Ah figure ya jus' gotta keep tryin' until ya get it right."

"It would seem that you've made plenty of right choices, then," Charles observed with a small smile. "A husband who adores you, friends who stand by you, a family in New Orleans that took you in and accepted you for who you are... you've led quite the life these past four years, my dear."

"Ah reckon Ah lucked out, huh, Professor?" Rogue smiled contentedly.

"Yes, you certainly did," Charles agreed, looking her over with a touch of fatherly pride. She had been one of his original six students, his X-men, and it was a terribly satisfying thing to see the woman she had become.

She was every bit as breathtaking as he had always known she would grow up to be. Her chin-length hair had grown out well past her shoulders, and she'd even gained an inch or two in height, giving her a tall, slender frame that most women would be envious of, with a glistening tan instead of the pale skin she'd been sporting in Bayville.

But the biggest change had little to do with her appearance.

Gone was the insecurities and the thick layers of clothing, the brooding and moody attitude of a lonely and bitter teenager whose powers had seemed more of a curse than a gift. In their place was a silent strength, an unshakable confidence and the kind of happiness that he'd always prayed she would find.

And her pessimism, so renowned as it was, had given way to a shining optimism that refreshed his faith in mankind.

"Ah don' suppose ya have a way t' get in touch wit' him, do ya?" Rogue asked hopefully, clearly trying not to let on how anxious she was to hear from Quicksilver. It didn't do much good, of course, since she was talking to a telepath, but he saw no reason to point that out.

"I would be happy to send word to him, if you like," Charles offered. "I have little doubt that he'd like to see you."

"Yeah," Rogue agreed with a smile. "Ah really appreciate it, Professor."

"It's my pleasure, Rogue," he assured her. "I should have contacted him sooner, as I'm sure he'll no doubt complain about when I reach him."

Rogue chuckled softly. "He always was a bit o' a spoiled brat, huh?"

"A bit?" Charles echoed wryly.

"Ya know what Ah mean," Rogue said, making a face. She sighed, rising to her feet. "Ah reckon Ah outta let ya get back t' yo' work an' head down t' the kitchen t' try an' get some lunch down b'fo' this li'l guy starts makin' me nauseous."

She patted her stomach, a tender smile touching her lips as her thoughts turned towards the child growing within her, and Charles couldn't help but smile, as well.

"You're going to make a wonderful mother," he told her.

Rogue scrunched up her nose at the compliment. "Ya think so?"

"I know so," Charles replied confidently.

"Thanks, Professor," Rogue said. "Ah hope yo' right."

Professor? Jean's voice filtered into his head. Is Rogue with you?

Yes, Jean, Charles answered. Why?

Kitty and I are going to take Nathan for a walk, and we thought she might like to come along, Jean told him with a mental smile.

"Jeannie?" Rogue asked knowingly.

Charles blinked in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Ah've seen that vacant look on people's face enough over the years when Tess is talkin' in their heads t' know what it means," Rogue replied with a shrug.

"She and Kitty are taking Nathan for a walk," Charles informed her. "They want to know if you'd like to go with them?"

"Sure," Rogue nodded. "A bit o' fresh air would do me good."

Charles relayed that to Jean, then announced to Rogue that the girls were waiting at the front door for her. After giving him a quick, but strong, hug in gratitude, Rogue hurried off to go join them, leaving him to dwell over his thoughts for a bit.

So many times over the years, he had questioned his choices, wondered if he couldn't have done things differently somehow, made things better. These thoughts had almost always centered around Rogue, for she had been his greatest failure, but perhaps things had worked out for the best.

Seeing you happy was worth it, he thought, letting his perceptions sprawl outward to envision the three girls, his former students, laughing as they started down the walking path.

And now that his lost student had come home, whether it was to stay or simply to visit, Charles Xavier found that he was happy, as well.


A/N: Well, I intended to post this on Friday, but I re-sprained my ankle while out rock-climbing (I guess I should have listened when the doctor said to stay off of it for a full month, lol), so today was the best I could do. I have tomorrow off, since I'm not able to drive quite yet, so I will start on the next post then, and try to get it up this Friday.