Chapter 2
One Week Prior
A quiet sigh escaped past slender lips before Hank Mccoy swallowed nervously, eyes darting over every section of the small cafe. His foot tapped at the leg of the booth as he worked desperately to control his need to flee. They had kept him waiting twenty minutes past time and he was starting to worry himself into a tizzy. The brilliant young mind of his had already thought up thirty things that could potentially have gone wrong and he was still working on more.
With every minute that ticked by too loudly on the huge clock in the back his nerves wound a little more tightly. His horn rim glasses slipped down his nose as they typically did and he pushed them back into place with one finger.
Being Charles and Moira’s only contact with the outside world was about as stressful as it came. What if he gave them away? What if he did something wrong and revealed them, or more particularly, Charles? His serum worked very well, for both of them, but there could always be a flaw.
The first few tries had not been the greatest of all, he would admit. The first left Charles and himself … stoned, for lack of better term. The next went perfectly fine for him other than a few minor glitches, but it somehow stole the telepathic powers from his mentor even though it did restore his legs. The recovery of those powers all at once were less than pleasing to poor Charles: first he had nearly had a panic attack when there had been utter and total silence in his mind for the entire length that the serum lasted, then he was overcome with the pain of all the voices returning and his legs giving out at once. That had not gone well at all and the scientist still felt rather guilty about it.
After that Hank had reconfigured his equation to adjust for the flaws. It was a success, for the most part. There were still flaws but they were minor. Charles could walk and use his powers at the same time.
However, if a new, unforeseen flaw occurred while he and Moira were in that place he could not even begin to think what might happen. Well, he could, and did at nearly every moment of every day, but that was beside the point.
In a word, Hank was stressed, very stressed. His head tipped back and he looked to the cheap, water damages tiles above in exasperation. Good Lord, he was stressed.
To compound his fears he now found himself looking after a great many more people than he started with. Alex was the enforcer of the house, the intimidation card for a few of the rebellious boys. Darwin, frankly, was the mother hen and big brother rolled into one. Sean was somehow the younger sibling of everyone regardless of age as well as typical cohort in crime unless it was something he knew the Professor would not care for, then he showed restraint; he had been getting better about playing leader as time passed but he was still half a child himself. Hank himself, he did not know exactly what role he played beyond being the “responsible” one. He played Charles while the other man was away even though he fell utterly short.
“Sorry I’m late, Hank.” The silky, feminine voice eased over him to do quite the opposite of startling him the way sudden arrivals when he was beside himself normally would have. “We had a delay.”
“Where is Ch-Patrick?” Hank inquired equally as quiet.
“In the car.” She slipped into a chair jointed to the table next to his boot. “We picked someone up.”
“A student?” He knew the answer but asked anyway.
“Yes, she is. She is in no danger of being drafted but she had been discovered and would have been picked up by another school,” that was their covert word for the laboratories or weaponized re education, “so we snatched her up first.”
Hank nodded mutely, fingers working the edge of the table but he did have questions, “How has he been handling everything?”
“Well enough. He doesn’t sleep much but none of us do. And he is charming as ever ㄧ has half the office in love with him and the other half wishing they were him.”
Hank had to fight back a laugh, “Sounds about right.” But again, with the man in question not in the room, he needed more, “Is he drinking again?”
“No, not really. One or two with the other agents, but he is careful.”
His shoulders relaxed, eased by the news, “So he really is coping better.”
Moira seemed to hesitate before nodding, “Yes, he is.” Silence fell over her and he waited, tensing every second as he watched the stony look on her face, “But there are rumors. They say a scientist has developed something that can detect if a gifted person is in the area.”
“That isn’t new, that has been circulating for a while.”
“It was confirmed, supposedly.”
Hank nearly forgot to breathe, fighting the urge to stare at her in more than fleeting glances that could be passed off as a man admiring a woman.
“In light of that, I think you should give him extra medication. He only has two of the older formula and that might not be enough. Even if it isn’t pleasant, it would work in a pinch. You need to give him more of both.” She downed half her cup of coffee in one swallow, “You leave first. He is parked around the corner.”
Obediently, he stood and walked to the door even though he had so many more questions. No matter how many times they met, every two weeks was not enough. He worried endlessly between weeks and too short meetings.
Around the corner, as promised, was Charles huddled in the back seat with someone Hank could really not see under the hood of a coat. He moved closer until Charles looked up and smiled, speaking to the little creature beside him before opening the door and sliding out.
Hank’s breath nearly caught when he saw her stand, so very small and frail beside the Professor, black eyes haunting and despondent as she peeked at him from under her hood. He could not miss the white hair framing her face now even with the covering. There was no way she was over twelve. She was clinging onto the telepath’s cuff like a lifeline even as Charles assured her Hank was one of them.
The beast within seemed to rumble in anger and a surge of protectiveness for he knew what this rescue meant. The only way Moira and Charles would have so easily found her records and equally deemed one so young to be in need of the school was if the government had been after her. And the humans called them monsters? When had they ever even considered harming a child? When had they played these death games against the human race? Just because they looked different they somehow ended up being the scary shadow in the closet! How could those bastards have even considered going after such aㄧ
“Hank, I want to introduce Miss Ororo. She is interested in attending the school.” Charles crooned, a soothing, melodic voice laced with what the other mutant knew was a hint of telepathic suggestion of calm.
It worked. The beast inside him relaxed and the little girl held a little less of a death grip on the sleeve of the jacket Charles was wearing.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ororo.” Hank smiled for her even though she did not offer a returning one.
“He is going to take very good care of you until I come back.” Even though the telepath said it softly it still made the girl tense, eyes wary instantly.
Suddenly Moira was at Hank’s side, smiling sweetly at the little girl. That smile, Ororo returned ever so slightly. He could guess she was the sort to warm to people very slowly, not trusting quickly unless the individual was one Professor X. Charles could win just about anyone over and gather a following without even trying. Probably because they could just sense his heart when they were around him, he knew his beast always did. Not trusting Charles was like not breathing.
Moira strolled forward and crouched down in front of the child, not an easy task in heels, he would assume, “The Professor and I have to go now, but you will be perfectly safe at the school.”
Tiny, stick thin arms reached out and curled around the agent’s neck but she said nothing, not a word. Moira held her, petting her head through the hood for a moment before Charles laid his hand over the crown of the small head and in a blink the little thing fell limp.
The telepth scooped the child up gently and brought her to Hank. For the first time he got a real look at her and he took her, cradling her close to his chest, the beast thrumming inside him again. He knew Charles would put her to sleep simply because most of them could not handle what had to be done to transport them to the mansion. Being awake and in a small space was too much for already skittish individuals so it was common for them to be induced to sleep.
They could not let anyone see them with these children though, so they had to conceal them. It was too dangerous to do otherwise. They had so many to protect they could not risk leading anyone home. Better the children not know exactly where they were either just in case.
“I’ll take care of her, I promise.” Hank muttered.
“I know, and I trust you.” Charles smiled brightly at him, clapping him on the shoulder, “You have done an amazing job so far! I have complete faith in you.”
At least someone did.
“Have a little faith.” The telepath smirked knowingly, being a little too obvious that he heard that last thought.
Hank could not help but grumble mentally, knowing the other man would hear that too. The chuckle was his answer as the female agent and the fake agent turned to leave.
“Is everything still going alright?” Hank could not stop himself, always terrified the moment they started to leave because it could be for the last time. He might also have been clutching the girl to his chest a bit more for his own security. “How close are you?”
“It is going well.” Charles shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, shifting instantly to speak directly from one mind to another, We are a few stops away from destroying the last documents leading to the school. You and the boys are safe with name changes and fully new histories. All the people of the house are well documented. He gestured toward the car they were soon to abandon after Hank sprayed the inside now that they had finished borrowing it from the real owner. “Papers are in the front seat. Hers as well.”
They never stayed long ㄧ they couldn’t. Lingering was dangerous. They stayed long enough to let it be known they were alive, tell him if they needed anything, and give a short update.
“See you around.” Moira smiled for him, sensing his reluctance even if she did not possess Charles’ skill, “I’ll take care of things, don’t worry.”
“Be careful.” Those words held so much more emotion than he was able to convey, so many fears and hopes he could not voice for the force of how deeply he wanted them out of that place.
Blue, tender, soulful eyes turned and Charles was there in an instant, hand cradling the back of Hank’s head, “Everything will be alright, I promise.” His voice actually cracked in such a rare show, probably feeling the swirling emotions radiating from the younger man, so he switched to speaking mentally again. I will never let them touch you, never! No one will lay a finger on you or the others so long as I live.
Hank dropped his eyes to the other man’s chin. That is partly what I’m afraid of. He learned some time ago how to project his words back. Living with a telepath was educational.
“Don’t worry. It will all be over soon. You will see.”
And with that, the Professor slid away and the two of them vanished down one of the many dark streets. It would be two weeks before he would see them again. Two entire weeks of no sleep and pacing the halls as he tried not to think about what could go wrong and what in the world he would do with all those students if Charles never came back.
He knew this had to be done and knew they were the only ones that could pull it off. Moira was his in and with those powers Charles could smudge the memory of every agent that had ever seen their faces and he could legalize any name change simply by suggesting it to people with power in the office. By asking only a question or two, he could find out what every little move the government planned to take would be before they made it. So close to the records, they could falsify everything they needed to. Without a shapeshifter, a telepath was the only other option. Raven could not march in with the skin of some official and get them documents, so they had Charles do it.
They had a strict system of meeting. Every two weeks they would meet at one of four coffee shops. Hank was chosen to be the contact because he was meticulous and would not accidentally arrive at the wrong location and would not forget what they told him. So they met each time under the rules of the system they put together and also dropped off packages at predetermined places.
In two weeks they would either give him another mutant or one would simply show up. In two weeks they would erase more information and replace it with what they wanted it to say. In two weeks they could also be killed and he would not know until he went to the cafe three streets over and sat there for hours without ever seeing them.
For now he needed to move the girl, clear the car of evidence, and leave in his own ㄧ a fast, powerful car with an old exterior to make it fit with all the other cars. He would take her back and play Charles and try to lure the girl from her shell. Not that he could considering he was so deeply into his own shell it was amazing he ever spoke to anyone. He would have to try.