August 18, 1992
Amanda had no idea what was going on. She couldn't believe the direction that everything had taken. One moment she had been sitting in a restaurant, getting ready to say goodbye to her boyfriend, exchanging friendly chitchat on a double date, and then they had been running for their lives.
On some level, she could have dealt with that. Bad situations cropped up all the time, like when Kurt's father had taken ill. However, having David stop a plane crash was strange, and it was made stranger still by the fact that he recognized the plane. By the time the people walked out and she realized that Kurt and David knew them, she felt disconnected.
The soldiers and the furry woman were the icing on the cake. She swallowed her own feelings of being lost. Amanda recognized that the next few minutes would likely determine whether or not she was going to live or die.
"Sorry to interrupt your flight," the woman said, "But we couldn't have you getting back to your day care center."
The red-haired woman detached herself from the man with goggles. Amanda had seen enough movies to know they were getting into attack position. David was tensing, and so was Sharon. Even Kurt looked like he was figuring out the best way to launch himself at the soldiers.
The woman moved, her eyes glinting. It was like a careful ballet.
"Rocket launchers are pretty useful," the furry woman said.
"No kidding."
The man in black and red had taken his own gun out and his eyes were narrowed at the woman. She laughed and traced one of her claws across the side of her face. David shot a look at the man with the goggles, who just shook his head.
"Don't make me rip your throat out too," the woman said.
A shot ripped through the air, hitting her in the arm. The man with the goggles glared at the man with the gun.
"She was asking for it!" he snapped.
A second later the rest of the soldiers began firing. Amanda dropped to the ground, trying to get out of the way of the bullets. She covered her head, breathing hard. A few bullets hit the plan and ricocheted onto the cobblestones.
She could feel a familiar terror inside of her, like the time she'd been little and fallen off the trapeze. She had just fallen short of grabbing her next rope. Amanda could still remember looking up at the ceiling, at the way it had fallen further and further away from her. The net had been there to catch her, but for a moment she had forgotten all about it.
A bruising grip grabbed her arms, and she saw a soldier. Amanda lashed out, putting all of her strength into it. She aimed at the soldier's throat, knowing that it would hurt. He staggered back and another one began firing wildly.
She heard something whiz past her ear. A warm trickle of liquid dripped down her neck. Amanda put a hand to her ear and realized that the bullet had skimmed her. She swallowed and pulled back, looking at the scene.
The man with the goggles, as well as the red-haired woman and another woman with white hair, were in full-out combat. Lasers came out of the eyes of the man with goggles and the red-haired woman was forcing soldiers back with some unseen force. She saw the woman with white hair roundhouse kick a soldier before a lightning bolt struck him.
The man who'd begun the shooting was fighting the furred woman. Anytime someone tried to interfere he shot them, the motion casual and uncaring. David was locked in combat, swaying on his feet as though weak. Sharon stayed close to him, white fur covering her body and looking more like a cat then Amanda had ever seen.
The chaos seemed all around her. Amanda had no experience that could prepare her for this. She was a performer, not a soldier. Her eyes sought out Kurt, wanting something to ground her, something familiar.
After a few seconds she saw him. He teleported onto one of the soldier's shoulder's, kicking them and forcing them to the ground. He twisted and kicked another one in the chest. He teleported again to avoid several bullets and reappeared behind the soldier shooting at him. A quick punch to the head brought him down.
Amanda stared. There was a strange hardness in Kurt's eyes, a clinical look that she had never seen before. He'd told her once that he was a pacifist. If so, where had he learned to fight? Where had any of them learned to fight?
Something hard hit Amanda in the back of the head. She fell to the ground as a soldier stood above her. Amanda rolled to avoid his attacks, trying to figure out where to punch, where would be vulnerable.
His hand shot out again, grabbing her arm. A second later Kurt teleported next to them. He slammed his fist into the man's face. Blood spurted out of his nose and a second kick forced him to the ground.
Kurt grabbed her hand. Without any warning he teleported to the other side of the square. His hands ran over her arms, his expression concerned.
"Are you okay?" he asked, "Amanda, are you okay?"
Feeling as though she had lost her tongue she nodded. Kurt looked at her, his expression losing any detachment. Instead it was just desperate.
"Amanda..." he began.
Something blasted the wall behind them. Amanda saw that someone had knocked the man with the goggles near them. He sent off a blast from his eyes and then turned to Kurt and Amanda, his face covered with grime and sweat.
"Kurt, we need to call your father," he said.
He tossed him a phone, which Kurt caught.
"Call him, and get back in here," the man with the goggles said, "We're outnumbered."
"She's a civilian," Kurt said.
His voice was pleading. Amanda wanted scream at him. She was a civilian? Amanda knew exactly what that meant, knew that he was saying they were in a war zone. Kurt didn't belong in a war zone. She didn't belong in a war zone.
"Then get her to call him," the man said, "But we need you."
Another soldier began shooting. The man turned a dial on his goggles and another beam of red light shot out. Kurt pulled Amanda into a hug. He teleported her into one of the side restaurants, which stood abandoned.
Kurt dialed and pressed the phone into her hands. The phone ringed softly.
"Tell my father that you're a friend of mine, and that it's a code blue," Kurt said, "Do you understand?"
Amanda nodded. Kurt touched her cheek.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Without another word of explanation Kurt teleported away. Amanda knelt down onto the ground, the sounds of the fight in the square filling the air. Her fingers gripped the phone tighter as it continued to ring.
"Charles, you should go to bed," Moira said.
Charles smiled. He finished signing another class swap sheet, allowing a student to transfer from French to Spanish.
"It's hardly what you would call late," he said.
"No," Moira said, "but I know that you haven't been sleeping too well lately."
Charles sighed. It was true. With everything that had been going on he'd found it difficult to sleep. Moira put her hands on his shoulder and looked down at him.
"Everyone had a breaking point," she said, "Even you."
"So you've been trying to tell me," he said.
"For several years," Moira said, "And yet, here we still are."
She kissed his forehead, her hair brushing against his cheeks. It felt soft and sweet. He put one of his hands up and briefly touched her mind. By this point Moira was used to it, and her mind felt as welcome in the mental realm as her presence did in the physical one.
He let her feel the warmth of his thoughts. She sighed against his skin. She was used to him being in her head, always managing to convey what he was feeling but always insisting on keeping her privacy. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it for moments like these.
She sighed again before he withdrew. Moira took her lips off his forehead. She slid down into the seat next to him and looked over at the forms, one of her hands resting on his.
"So, what do we have?" she asked.
"Just the usual," Charles said, "Class changes and such."
"It can wait until tomorrow," Moira said.
She tucked some of her graying hair behind her ear.
"It'll teach them for not choosing their classes with a bit more care."
Charles laughed and Moira squeezed his hand. He rubbed his temples.
"I suppose that I could stop a little early," he said.
He pulled out another form.
"Just one more," he said.
Moira laughed and leaned her head back. Charles picked up his pen and quickly reviewed the request. It was straightforward enough, and Charles had just finished signing it when his phone rang.
His wife groaned and Charles picked it up.
"Hello?" he asked.
There was a crash in the background. Charles frowned.
"Hello?" he asked again.
"Hi," someone said.
The voice was feminine, but it was also reedy and nervous. He straightened, his eyes meeting Moira's.
"You don't um, know me, but I'm a friend of Kurt's and...um...this guy who shoots lasers out of his eyes gave me this phone," the voice said, "And Kurt told me to talk to you and..."
Charles felt his spine stiffen with shock and horror. Kurt couldn't be in Boston. They were dropping Sharon off in Washington. They weren't going anywhere near there. If he'd thought that they would be going there he wouldn't have let them go.
"Kurt said this was a code blue?" she said.
Charles's eyes widened. He pushed away from his desk and pressed the alarm button. Moira looked at him in surprise as the alarm began blaring.
"What's your name?" Charles asked.
"Amanda," the girl said.
"Amanda, did he give you any other details?" Charles asked.
"No, he..."
Her voice trailed off.
"Kurt!" she screamed.
There was the sound of a muffled explosion, and the phone went dead. Charles could feel the ice in his heart, the fear seeping into him. What had happened to his son? Was David with him? Had Amanda just called out in surprise, or was something far worse happening?
"Charles?" Moira said.
Her hand touched his arm. All around him he could hear the alarm going off, accompanied by the sound of running feet. The students knew their evacuation points. They'd had drills, and he knew that the older students would guide the younger ones.
His wife continued to look at him, her face confused and her eyes worried. He swallowed and put down the phone. He could think about his fears later. His sons were in Boston and, though the thought pained him, he couldn't help them now.
"Moira, we have to get everyone out of here," Charles said, "Kurt just sent me a code blue."
Moira's eyes widened at the mention of the color. She'd been the one to help design the color designations decades ago, back when they thought that an actual code blue was an impossibility. It had been before Erik had sent someone into the Institute to poison him.
"Okay Charles," Moira said, "Okay."
She got up. Charles began wheeling himself so he could be next to her. She paused as he moved around his desk.
"Do you hear that?" Moira asked.
He shook his head. Moira jumped forward, shoving herself and his wheelchair to the ground. He hit his head hard, the room spinning. The windows shattered above their heads, the separate pieces of glass flying everywhere. It appeared that, despite Kurt's warning, it was already too late.
