"We can talk about it if you like."
"There's nothing to discuss."
Moira sighed.
"Charles, something happened today-"
"Nothing happened," he replied, rolling his wheelchair into the bathroom, "We signed on two new students. Hank gave your aunt a ride back to Scotland. That's it."
Frustrated she followed him into the bathroom. He gave her a side-look before he began combing his hair.
"I saw your face," she said, "You can't just say that was nothing. And there's no reason to lie about it. I'm here for you when these things happen."
"Again, nothing happened," insisted Charles.
He paused and examined the comb.
"That's twice as much hair as usual in this," he said, "I swear I'm going bald."
Charles gave her another side-look.
"Must be the stress."
"Oh I'm stressful now?" asked Moira.
"Right now, yes you are," Charles said, "A man can't even get ready for bed in peace without being nitpicked over nothing."
"That was not nothing! And don't you use that tone of voice," she said, trying to keep her voice down but failing, "You're in my head figuring out what's wrong with me anytime you like. I don't have that luxury!"
"I only do that during emergencies," snapped Charles.
"I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong," Moira said, "I have to use conventional methods like facial gives, of which you have next to none, and asking. I'm just trying to employ the second!"
"Maybe nothing's wrong so maybe I don't need your help," Charles retorted, "Now if you'd please-"
From the next room David started to cry. Moira glared at Charles before opening the door to the adjoining room and going in. She picked up David and started to rock him gently. He quieted quickly, yawning and going back to sleep. A lump formed in her throat she held him for a little longer.
"Is he alright?"
She tilted her head towards Charles.
"He's fine," she said, her tone clipped, "Just got woken up by the noise."
Moira placed him back in his crib gently. She heard Charles wheel up beside her.
"I think he might have picked up on our emotions. Things were getting rather heated," said Charles, "I…I went into his mind earlier to try to calm him down, and I felt him push back."
Her eyes widened and then she smiled.
"It figures. I always knew he'd take after his father."
Next to her Charles started. He looked at her; puzzled. It was just so comical that she had to laugh.
"And it also tells me how I always know which stuffed animal he wants," she added.
"He's not that advanced yet. I believe that's just you being a mother," Charles answered.
She smiled again and pushed his chair back into his room. On her way out she closed the door in case the emotion overflow woke David up again. Waking up too much was bad for him. Moira knelt down so she was on a more even footing with her husband. Taking a deep breath she looked him in the eye.
"I'm your wife, and I'm here to support you," she said, "But I can't help you if you don't let me in. You've let me love you Charles. I've married you, had your child. But you need to let me in."
He sighed and took her hand.
"Sweetheart…" he started.
Charles brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
"Mutations repeat," he said finally, "As a geneticist I know this. One child in Asia is born with a witch's mark in the middle of their forehead. Another is born in Canada with the same mark. These two are not related, have never met, will never even know the other existed. The same thing is true of the x-gene. I've met many other telepaths besides myself. There are many children who share certain feral traits."
His monologue lapsed into a glum silence. She drew his hand closer to her.
"But it's hard to see one again," he said softly, "hard to see something that's such a clear reminder of someone I've lost. It's just a reminder and one that I didn't expect to see."
Moira looked up and saw the hurt in his eyes. His friend's betrayal had hit him hard. That compounded with their constant struggle was only pouring salt into the wound. Grasping his hand tighter she got up. Being careful she sat in his lap and wound her arms around his neck. He leaned into her touch, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She kissed him just below the temple.
"I'm here," she murmured.
Lorna's new room was nice. The bed was the right size and a large window displayed a beautiful pool. It was also bigger than any other room she'd had thus far. It had been meant for two people, but until her arrival there had been an even number of female students. So she had lucked out and gotten an entire room to herself.
She'd unpacked, taking care to make sure that everything was in its place. There wasn't much; Lorna and her mother always packed light. Her mother had been a nurse and wasn't allowed to have a second job because of certain laws. Her mother had been the sole provider for her and her daughter. They didn't have extra money to spend on luxuries.
Her mother. The familiar ache in her chest started up again. Swallowing she took out her mother's journal which she'd hidden under her pillow. It always helped when she started feeling like this. Her fingers traced the word 'Polaris' on the cover once before she opened it up to her bookmark. Lorna's eyes settled on the text and she began to read.
In 1943 my father got a job as a war hospital doctor. He wanted to do his part but wasn't fit enough for the field because of his asthma. Since no one else could take me in, he had no other family, he took me along with him. We were in a hospital in England for a time before he was transferred over to one in France in 1944.
That was where I started learning how to 'doctor' people. Most of my jobs were fetching things, but I also administered some drugs and applied bandages. A heady responsibility for a thirteen year old, and it made me feel important. At long last I felt like I was really doing something for my country. It wasn't long before I became a sort of mascot for the hospital.
Once a patient was admitted with a bullet in his shoulder named 'Sergeant Barnes'. I didn't think much of it; not until his friends came to visit. You should have seen my face the day the Howling Commandos and Captain America came into the hospital. The word star struck doesn't even begin to cover it.
Lorna shook her head in disbelief. She read on.
Don't believe me? Turn the page.
She did so. There, pasted onto the paper, was a picture of a stunned little girl she assumed was her mother. Next to her were three men. One had a cast on his arm and the other two were in military uniforms. Three names had been signed on it; Bucky Barnes, Nick Fury, and Captain America. It was addressed to Susanna. Lorna was caught between laughing and crying.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She shoved the journal under her pillow and headed to the door. Lorna opened it and sighed.
"Rahne, it's eleven p.m."
"I couldn't sleep," Rahne said, looking at her with big eyes, "This house makes funny noises. Can I sleep in here tonight?"
She sighed and nodded. Rahne scampered past her and onto the bed. Lorna shut the door and got in next to her.
"I miss my mother," Rahne said almost immediately.
Lorna nodded. Dr. MacTaggert had been good to both of them. While Lorna viewed her as a friend Rahne had accepted her as her mother immediately. Rahne had been an orphan, an abused one at that, and had been eager for a connection. Lorna could sympathize, after her own mother died she had been eager to find some sort of blood relation. As it turned out she didn't have any which wasn't the best of situations.
Rahne had grown up knowing that, which is probably why Dr. MacTaggert had meant so much to her. Having a mother figure dropped into her life and then snatched away was a lot for her to handle.
"Don't worry, we'll stay in contact," said Lorna, "The headmaster's wife is her niece after all."
Rahne nodded.
"Do you think this is a good place?" she asked.
"If it wasn't then your mother wouldn't have left us here," replied Lorna, "And besides, they're nice."
She made a face when she remembered the awkward pause in the office after she exhibited her mutation. Like Rahne the headmaster had praised her control, even if she couldn't keep it up for long. He'd outlined several courses and asked a few questions about the size of the objects she could handle. Overall everyone had been very complimentary. That silence was still strange to her though.
"A little weird earlier," she added, "but overall nice."
"I haven't met the other kids though."
"What does that have to do with it?"
She heard Rahne start to chew on her lip.
"Maybe they're not nice."
"I'm sure they're wonderful," Lorna said.
Next to her Rahne shifted. Although she was trying to put on a brave front for the girl next to her Lorna was nervous too.
"Now let's get some sleep," said Lorna, "Big day tomorrow."
"But what if they don't like me?" asked Rahne.
She sighed, trying to bury her own doubts.
"They'll like you."
"Promise?"
Lorna hugged Rahne tightly.
"I promise."
A/N: For any of you who haven't seen the Captain America movie, it was awesome.