CHINA, 2023

"Whenever the Sentinels attack, Warpath spots them," Kitty began to explain, once they were all settled inside the temple. "Then I send Bishop back to warn us of the attack before it happens. Blink scouts the exit site - and then we leave before they ever know we were there."

"Because we never were," the long haired boy pointed out. Wanda wrinkled her nose in confusion and she opened her mouth to question his statement, but Wolverine beat her to it.

"What do you mean you were never there?"

Charles leaned forward in his wheelchair. "She projects Bishop back in time a few days to warn the others - of the coming attack." Wolverine raised his eyebrow, questioning further, "So she sends Bishop back in time?"

"No," Charles quickly corrected, "Just his consciousness, into his younger self. His younger body."

Pietro let out a low whistle of amazement, just as their father spoke up, his comment directed towards the man beside him. "This might just work, Charles."

"What might work?" Wanda asked in confusion, before Charles began.

"The Sentinel program was originally conceived by Doctor Bolivar Trask. In the early '70's, he was one of the world's leading weapons designers. But, correctly, he had begun experimenting on mutants, using their gifts to fuel his own research. This is extraordinary. There was one mutant who has discovered what he was doing."

Magneto added in a neutral tone, "A mutant with the ability to transform herself into anyone."

"Mystique," Colossus concluded, and the two old men could only shake their heads. Mystique. Wanda could still remember her mother's pain over that topic. Her mother had called her by another name, had called her a sweet girl, but Wanda only knew her as the cold hearted Mystique that had tried two different times to kill her.

"I knew her as Raven," Wanda could hear the pain in Charles' voice as he continued, "We met when we were children, grew up together. She was like a sister to me. I tried to help her - but only succeeded in driving her away. She haunted Trask across the world. And at the Paris Peace Accords in 1973, after the Vietnam War, she found Trask - and killed him. It was the first she killed."

"It wasn't her last," Wolverine added gruffly, but Charles paid no mind. "But killing Trask did not have the outcome expected. It only persuaded the government of the need of hid program. They captured her that day - tortured her, experimented on her. In her DNA, they discovered the secrets to her power. It gave them the key they needed to create weapons that could adapt to any mutant power. And in less than 50 years, the machines that have destroyed so many of our kind were created. But that started that day in 1973 - the day she first killed. The day truly became Mystique."

Understanding what Charles was meaning, Wanda crossed her arms. "You want to go back in time."

"If I can get to her, stop the assassination," Charles added, sounding almost desperate, "Keep her out of their hands - then we can stop the Sentinels from ever being born."

"And end this war before it ever begins," Magneto pointed out, before Kitty squirmed awkwardly next to Bobby. "Uh, I can send someone back a couple weeks. Maybe a month. But you're talking about going back decades. You have the most powerful brain in the world, Professor - but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would you rip apart." At that, Charles' shoulders sagged, as he glanced down, a discouraging look on his face. Seeing this, Kitty sighed and continued, "I'm sorry. No one could survive that trip."

There was a pause, before Wolverine spoke up. "What if someone's mind has a way of snapping back? What if someone can heal as fast as they're ripped apart?"

Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Glancing around the room, she noticed that everyone was thinking about what was said and those that understood seemed to be agreeing. "Wait," Wanda raised her voice, all eyes in the room drifting over to her, "What if something goes wrong? What if - sorry - he ends up messing the future up more?"

"Well, sis," Pietro started, "Unless you have another plan, I say that this one is worth the try." Wanda silenced at that, knowing that he was right - it was their only chance - but the worry stayed securely in her gut.

USA, 1969

"You know, there's some great houses down here in DC."

Heather sighed, leaning against the wall, her fingers twisting the phone cord. "Joey, I - I can't move down there. The twins just started school, they have friends and - they're comfortable here. I can't take them away from this."

"What's more important, their comfort or their safety?" Heather's shoulders sagged, before Joey continued, "Look, I'll send you some newpaper ads, okay? Just - look through them, please?"

Heather closed her eyes, pausing, before letting out another sigh. "Okay. I will."


The ads came a week later, and Joey wasn't wrong. The houses were all beautiful and very, very expensive - not that money was an issue; her grandparents had been millionares and had left her with a rather large inheritance, as well as her parents' life insurances policies - something she had been reclucant to even touch.

With the twins being read to by Hank and Charles being god knows where, Heather finally had the chance to sit down with the ads and the phone.

"My favorite one is the on East Court," Joey claimed, and Heather skimmed through the pictures before finding the one Joey was talking about. The house was beautiful, rather modern looking but large and - "Six bedrooms?" Heather asked with a surprise laugh, "Joey, I don't need that many rooms."

"Hey, the kids would get a playroom to themselves."

"No, Joey," Heather laughed, using her marker to take an X through the picture of the house. "Fine," Joey grumbled and Heather couldn't help but laugh once more, the sound of his voice reminding her of a mad toddler.

The next one had four bedrooms - something Heather could handle - but the blue siding threw the two off. Joey pointed out another one, but the yard was tiny and there was just too much space inside of the house for Heather's taste.

The third one from the top, however, caught her eye.

It was two stories tall, simple tan siding and even a small porch up in the front. It was listed with five bedrooms and three bathrooms, and even if Heather disliked so much unused space, she figured it wouldn't hurt to look through the house. "What about North Court Street one?"

"North Cour - Oh, it's nice, I guess. Kind of plain looking in my opinion."

"Joey, I'm not planning on buying a mansion."

"Come on, Feather, let me live through you, its - "

Heather interrupted him, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, as she scribbled down the number near the ad, "I think I'm going to call them and schedule a visit." A sigh sounded through the phone, before Joey responded, "I guess I can deal with it. Go on, give 'em a call."


A tour through the house proved that it was everything they needed - by the end, both twins were running through the smaller bedrooms, claiming one before finding another they liked better. Their excitement over the new houses calmed Heather's nerves about uprooting them and made her decision a little easier.

With both twins bundled up at her side, she signed the paperwork and shook hands with the older man. Over the next week, she traveled back and forth between New York and Washington, trying to pack and make appearances at meetings with her attorney, as well as shop for new furniture. After all, the furniture she and the twins had been using was Charles and his family's - and she wasn't petty, she wasn't taking any of it.

The lawyers came to an agreement on October 15, 1969 and the house was finally Heather's.

The next day, she loaded the last of the kids' clothes into the back of her car and watched as the twins said their goodbyes.

A now human looking Hank grabbed his arms around Pietro, before opening them a little wider for a sobbing Wanda. Charles sat up on the porch, his eyes watching the scene before him with no emotion - just emptiness. Not that it surprised Heather, he had become distant following the night Heather had caught him drunk. He barely spoke to Hank but chose to ignore Heather and the twins - and that was the rare days when he decided to leave his room.

Heather picked up her bawling twins, with each cry they let out tugging at her heartstrings. Placing them in the back seat of the car, she closed the door and made her way back over to Hank.

The two hugged tightly, no words being exchanged at first, before Heather finally broke the silence. "You're always welcome at our house. The twins - they'd love to see you."

"I don't know if I should leave him alone."

"Just - take care of yourself, Hank." Heather could feel her throat closing up with emotion, her eyes beginning to blur with tears. Hank responded to that by holding her tighter and after a moment, the two let go of each other.

"Goodbye, Hank."

"Goodbye, Heather."

As Heather made her way back to her car, she turned to look back and caught Charles' gaze. The two stared wordlessly at each other and for a second, Heather considered saying something - anything. But the man on the porch wasn't the Charles she knew. The man that had made her feel like she belonged, that stood by her side - was gone, only a shell remained. Her words would mean nothing to him.

So she turned away.


A/N: Not the best, but I wanted to get it over with (this chapter has kind of been a thorn in my side for a while). Things are going to start picking up in the next few chapters.