And now I finally stood outside the house of my mother, who I hadn’t seen since I was fourteen and who could quite probably fear me, revile me, hate me and maybe even want to kill me. But I had to know for myself and talk to her. And to tell her what all happened. Stepping up to the door, I raised my hand and knocked on the door.

***

Two days ago:

Detective Derek O’Malley was not a happy man. Three days of trying to find a trace of Charity Arlington AKA Charity Thomas, had left him with a bunch of old history and a headache. His partner felt much the same.

"So basically, the FBI have no trace on her for the last six months or so. One of her cohorts, a Jason Haringer died about the same time she disappeared. At the time it was thought to be drug related. After that, nothing."

"Hey Karst, what about her mother. There’s all this talk about her father, but what about the mother. Maybe she could tell us something." Shinniofski had decided he wanted to help on this case and was devoting some of his off hours to help. Karst started digging under a pizza box looking for some papers.

"Her mother testified against George A. at the drug trial and was handed over to Witness protection. Beyond that, we’d have to go begging to the Feds for more info. Besides, Charity was fourteen when her mom made the break and could have gone with her if she wanted. I don’t think her mother wants anything to do with her. Where’d that paper go." Karst started to dig some more into the pile of papers. "However, there was a missing persons filed for Charity and her mother in ’87 by Mary Doyle’s parents. That would put it just around the time that her father started heavily recruiting. Maybe we could get someone to start tracking them down."

Derek reached forward and snagged a piece of the now cold pizza. "What did we get back from the credit card people?"

Shinniofski spoke up "Not much, it’s a new card, no recent charges after the motel, nobody’s paid the bills yet, and the holding name is Thomas. May be…"

"What?"

"If I started to do some digging around on the application itself, I might find some more info. That driver’s ended up being an existing record that had been modified and then added to the system under a different name. Maybe the credit card is the same."

"Well, then go check into that." The younger man got up and headed over to a laptop that was set up on a desk across the room. Picking up a dirty sock, he flung it over at O’Malley.

"Don’t you ever clean up this dump O’Malley?"

"Just wait until you don’t have your mommy to clean up after you and then you can criticize my housekeeping techniques."

"Tease me all you like, I don’t have to eat my own cooking and I don’t have to pay rent. I’m trying to save up for a house, not some shrimpy apartment." By this time, the man had sat down and his fingers started to fly over the keyboard.

"So Daren, what else we got?"

"Not a whole lot, the blood analysis came back finally, I hate having to send it off. Anyway, here’s a strange thing though, the genetic scan showed no know genetic anomalies."

"None?"

"None. Other than that it was clean and normal. As for the clothes in the washer, they where all off-the-shelf brand names available just about anywhere. The book we got is second hand and had a store name stamped in the cover. It’s for a little shop in Westchester. Which goes with you seeing her there in that bar. What was the name of that place again?

"The Gambit, why?"

"Just thought I’d do a media search and see if that escapade you told me about hit any of the papers, after I hear back from some contacts of mine. What are you gonna do?"

"I’m gonna look into those Grandparent’s of hers, see if there’s anything more on that missing persons."

***

Present:

George Arlington sat in the high backed chair, leaning back and looked out at the people in the hall over steepled fingers. Deep in though he idly watched the figures running back and forth, little cogs in a much bigger picture. Some cogs more important than others.

Charity should have been dead. That traitorous bastard Jason swore she had died. They’d tried to save her, but she’d already dying and had finally passed on after a few days in a coma. Beaten to a pulp, his lips still whispered her name and the accusation of her murder. When they’d left him dying from the slash on his throat, he was still trying to call out. Perhaps for her, or at his mother, who’d slit her son’s throat and left him to die a traitor’s death.

But then she’s found alive. And a mutant. Jason was a very clever man. He stuck to the story they wanted to hear, that they had murdered Charity. But the traitor was dead and there was still a mutant out there who knew all together too much about Humanity’s Chance. That little abomination was just as bad as the bitch who whelped her. Well both of those problems would soon be rectified.

***

The knock sounded hollow to my ears. Waiting a few seconds, I started to loose my nerve and turned to leave. The door opened and a young Hispanic woman poked her head out.

"Can I help you?"

"Is Samantha Kelly in?" My voice trembled a bit and my knees would be knocking if I hadn’t locked them into place. Absently, my hand started to rub the scar hidden by my long sleeves.

"I’m sorry, she’s at work right now, maybe I can help you?" She had a kind face, but my knees started to weaken even more and my nails scratched harder at the raised streak of scar tissue.

"Um, that’s okay. I uh, was just wondering if she was okay?" Tears started to well up in my eyes, I guess I was more of a wreck than I thought. Too much stress, not enough sleep and altogether too much caffeine in my system, trying to stay awake.

"Here, come in and sit down, you look wasted." The woman gently grasped my arm and guided me into the living room. It was sparsely furnished, but everything had the well worn look of a house that was lived in and loved. Sitting me down on the couch, the lady handed me a box of Kleenex and waited for me to calm down.

"I’m sorry," I started "I’ve been on the road a while and haven’t really had enough sleep."

"That’s okay. My name is Maria Gonzalas. And you are?" She had soft brown eyes, that looked at me with concern and kindness in them.

"Charity, Charity Thomas." I wasn’t going to claim any relation to that bastard who fathered me. Wiping the last of the tears out of my eyes, I started to get up. "I should really get going, I just wanted to see if M-, Samantha was okay, that’s all, I’m just passing through." I picked up my back pack from where it had slipped of my shoulder.

"Please stay. Sammy will be back in about half an hour and we rarely have company. I have some cookies that she made in the cupboard." Still not certain about whether I should stay or not Maria continued. "Why don’t you wait and have something to eat. I bet you’d like some real food for a change." Considering breakfast was a package of Twinkies from a 7-11, I figured I might take her up on the hospitality.

Five minutes later, I was in the kitchen, with a plate and a spread of various cheeses, sliced meats, a loaf of fairly fresh bread and a strong abomination to eat.

***

Two days ago:

"Hey you guys, come look at this!" A holler came from the general direction of the lap top about twenty minutes after Gary Shinniofski had gone over there. Pushing the pile of papers that had spread themselves over Derek, he followed Daren, who had just hung up the phone, 00to look over the shoulder of the young man.

"I was slamming into a brick wall until I checked the actual application itself. The credit card is genuine accept for the bogus name. Take a look at the address here for place of residence."

Derek read it out loud "The Xaviar Institute for Higher Learning. How the hell did they get involved?"

Karst looked a little lost over that. "What’s a fancy private school got to do with this."

"Charles Xaviar is one of the foremost leaders in the fight for mutant rights."

"I know that Derek," Daren gave Derek a dirty look and then turned back to the screen. "But what does that have to do with the girl?"

"There have been all sorts of rumors flying around about Xaviar and that school of his. Everything from illegal genetic manipulation to the school being the headquarters of Magneto and his followers." Gary hit a few more keys and pointed at the picture that flew up on the screen. "It’s an old photo the police have on Magneto. Take a look at the man in the back ground."

Daren squinted at the screen and then his eye’s registered the face. It was a young Xaviar, still recognizable by the bald head and distinct eyebrows. "What, she was recruited by Xaviar to join in the fight for mutant rights with Magneto?"

"No, I don’t think so. Eric Magnus has a distinct disliking for anyone who treads on the lives of mutants. And Charity has definitely done that. But it’s still a very interesting connection. Did those contacts of your's find anything Daren?"

"Not much. You?"

"Well, all the paper work I’ve got here ended up dead. I did dig up an old address for the grandparents though. We could check it out later." Derek paused for a second thinking. "Do you two want to get started on the media search? I have my computer in my room if you don’t want to wait until work on Monday. It’s hooked up to the police server and that has connections to almost every paper out there."

"There’s an idea. What you gonna do in the meantime?"

"Well, I’m gonna get some food. You guys are eating me out of house and home. Any requests?"

"Yea, shelled sunflower seeds and some Gatorade if you can. Anything but the orange kind!" Gary yelled over his shoulder, eyes still trained on the screen fingers flying over the keys.

The two older men looked at each other and just shook their heads. "What about you?"

"Lot’s of coffee and some pig skins if you can find them."

"I don’t know which is worse, the Gatorade or the pork rinds." Derek muttered to himself as he grabbed his car keys and left the apartment.

***

"What is it Bishop?" Scott Summers walked into the room

"A couple of my watchdog programs have been triggered. I haven’t had a chance to look at what exactly it was, since I was with Charles at the conference, but it appears that someone has done a fair amount of digging into Charity’s history."

"How bad?" Scott pulled up a chair and plunked down next to Bishop, looking at the computer screen.

"Somebody pulled her prints and started looking into the FBI files on the HC, a run of all the police files related to her, including a missing persons from a little over ten years ago and worst of all, someone’s been searching for information about the school."

"How is the Massachusetts school involved with this?" Scott hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night and was still a bit out of it. Bishop just looked at him.

"This school."

"Oh." pause "Oh!" The importance of this connection took a few seconds to filter through. If a connection was ever made between Xaviar and the X-Men, there where some dangerous consequences.

"I’ve been doing some digging and it’s all coming from the police at Cedar Rapids, in Iowa. I found a report involving Charity in a shooting incident. The police seem to feel that the HC is involved."

"That’s not good."

"I also took the liberty of sending Storm out to see if Charity had reached her mother. So far, she hasn’t."

"Oh shit."

***

Present:

Maria had been plying me with food for the last twenty minutes, before she let me go so she could tidy up the kitchen. Wandering around the living room I looked at everything. There was a side board that displayed a collection of birthday cards for Maria and in the corner was a flower arrangement, kind of amateurish but still nice.

"Sammy made that for me." I jumped a little at the sound of Maria’s voice. "For my birthday. She should be back any minute now."

Not really knowing what to say, but feeling the need to fill the silence that followed, blurted out "Who are you anyway?" How to win friends and influence people didn’t make it onto my reading list. "I’m sorry, I’m just nervous."

"That’s okay, I gather it’s been a while since you saw her?"

"Yea." Turning away, I looked at some pictures on the wall. They lined a hallway leading into the back of the house. One was my mom, older than I remember her but she looked much more happy than I ever remember as well. She was laughing as an older man had his arms around her, lifting her up off of her feet.

"Do you know Alex?"

"The man in the picture? No." There was a graduation portrait of Maria, one of my Mom and then a few photos further down I couldn’t really see.

"They’ve been officially dating for a few months now. He makes her very happy. To answer your question earlier, Sammy and I went to school together. She was starting a new life, and I was trying to grow up enough to pass my courses. When we graduated, we got a house together.

" What about you? Not to be nosy or anything but how did you meet Sammy?"
"I don’t really …" I stopped speaking as I heard the sound of keys in the door.

***

Two days ago:

Derek called out as he got back, his arms full of various forms of junk food and other types of essentials for the researching spree they where having this evening. Hearing no reply he stepped in, dumped the bags on the floor and headed into the bedroom where there seemed to be a few chuckles emanating, Reaching the door, he looked at Gary hunched over Daren’s shoulder pointing at the screen of the computer, almost giggling.

"What’d you find?"

Gary jumped back, tripped over a pile of laundry and fell over; Daren quickly moved the mouse and minimized what ever it was they’d been looking at. "Oh nothing much." Gary was trying to detangle himself from the pile he’d tripped over as he answered.

"Daren, I though you were going to look at the newspapers. Why are you acting like a kid caught with a handful of stolen candy?"

"Oh, hell."

"I always wondered where that bruise on you jaw came from." And then Daren lost it, great honking laughs coming interspersed with gasps for breath. Looking at the picture on the screen, Derek again wished for a clearer memory of what exactly had happened that night.

***

Present:

He had another chance to get the bitch. She’d gotten away the first time, but he’d found out some things about her since then. He knew how to track her now and how to find her when he’d tracked her down. He had a few more people with him this time. People he’d picked because they’d also trained with her and knew how she’d fought. The fact that if Mike didn’t get her this time he would become the next target was a fact he understood well. Two strikes, you’re out. But he was already well motivated to catch her and eventually eliminate her. She was an abomination. As simple as that.

***

Sammy Kelly, previously known as Mary Amethyst Doyle-Arlington, stepped through the door and was just glad to be home. It’d been a long week and getting called in on a Saturday made it worse. Letting the attaché case fall to the floor she kicked off her shoes and called out to see if Maria was in. She said she would be, but she might have gone out for some groceries. They were getting low on a few things. "Did you pick up the groceries Maria?" It had taken her a while to get used to Maria’s name being so close to her old name. But that was a different life.

"You have some company Sammy."

Glancing up, Sammy looked around the room and noticed a slim figure in the background. Alex was out of town for the weekend and she didn’t know anybody else in town. Curious, she walked up the steps that led out of the entrance way to the living room and looked at the young woman who stood before her. Short blond hair, the color of her own, high cheekbones inherited from her mother reflected back at her and the girl’s eyes. . . They were just like George’s. Charity had her father’s eyes. And would do anything her father asked of her and her father wanted Sammy dead. Fear filled her as she backed up and started for the door. Blind panic filled her as she looked her past in the face.

"Momma?" It was a timid, begging voice, full of fear, that called out to her. It cut through her panic, bringing her back to the moment when her little Charity had fallen and scraped her knee, barely three and not crying out, but pleading for her momma to take the pain away. Stopping her forward momentum, expecting at any moment to feel a bullet smash through her back, she turned back around and looked at her daughter.

"Why are you here?" She expected proclamations of guilt, and. . .  well, she didn’t know exactly what to expect. Sammy looked at her daughter and finally saw the tears that where building in the girl’s eyes. They started streaming down her face and still no answer, finally Charity turned and ran into the kitchen.

"Sammy, what’s that all about?"

Maria looked thoroughly confused by the whole thing. Sinking down off of her shaky legs, Sammy sat down on the steps; confusion and a mix of other emotions warred on her face. What was going on? How did Charity find her, why was she there, what about her father and that damned cult? What did she do now?

"My past has caught up to me."

***

"Why are you here?" My mother had looked back at me, I could feel tears brimming over my eyes and knew that my worst fears were confirmed. She hated me, she was afraid of me, she didn’t want me. When she’d seen me, absolute terror filled her face and she turned to run. All I could do was cry out for her, like I had in my memories when I was young, when I couldn’t understand the world. She stopped, turned to face me and then asked me that question, her face still white with fear.

I didn’t know what to say to her. Tears started to spill out of my eyes and everything was getting blurry. There was a lump in my throat and I couldn’t seem to force anything beyond it. I just couldn’t take it and ran out of the room.

I was back in the kitchen, I sat down on the chair and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the table, blowing my nose and wiping my eyes off. I asked a question and I had my answer. Picking up my bag, I left by the back door.

***

Two days ago:

"Okay, you’ve all had a good laugh about that, fine. Did you do any real work while I was gone?" This day had gone from not very good to bad rather quickly. But there was something about this case that compelled the three of them to investigate further. The Captain had gladly handed it over to the Feds, but O’Malley couldn’t give it up. There where too many unanswered questions. Karst was in it to screw the Feds over and Derek had no idea why Shinniofski was in it. But without his help, they wouldn’t have the extra info they had now.

Still out of breath from laughing, Daren Karst and Gary Shinniofski both nodded, Daren looking back to the computer and Gary, leaving to go over some stuff he’d been downloading when Daren had called him over. "I just found the one article and I haven’t even had a chance to read it yet. Let me call it up for you." Fiddling around a few seconds and then the headline came over the picture, with an article running down the side. "It’s from a local tabloid. Look at this though." Daren pointed a finger to the head line ‘Rebel Mutant Group X-MEN Caught Brawling in Local Topless Bar’

"Again, a connection to a proactive rebel mutant group. And the X-men no less." Derek paused, scratching the stubble on his chin he hadn’t yet shaved off this morning. "She has to be a mutant, but how would she end up involved with someone like the X-Men? How reliable do you think this is? As far as identifying the mutant’s she’s with?"

"You’re kidding right?" Karst looked over at his partner, disbelief on his face "This is from a TABLOID! for heaven’s sake. Who ever heard of these things being accurate? I’ll see what I can get, but no guarantees." A few seconds of fiddling around brought up the files of known associates of the group called the X-Men. "Well, I think they were actually right. Look at this woman, alias Rogue, she has the same white streak in her hair, and the short hairy guy looks like this Wolverine character." Clicking another button two more faces popped up on screen. "Yup, there’s the blue guy. Beast. Appropriate. Take a look at this girl. Actually, she’s a woman, all woman."

"Daren, what would your wife say if she heard you say that?"

"Hey, I can look now can’t I? Any way, this is part of a legal investigation." Pause "Quasi-legal investigation. Besides, I love oriental women, although I wonder if that mark is a tattoo, or some sort of make up?"

"You need to get home more Daren, your wife is probably feeling neglected."

"Yea, yea, and your mom wants you to call more often. Ain’t life a bitch."

***

"What’s wrong Scott?" Jean looked over at her agitated husband. He was making a bad attempt to appear calm.

"Who said anything was wrong?"

"Dear, you’re pacing."

"oh." Scott stopped pacing and moved to glance out the bay window.

"So what’s wrong?"

"The police have started to investigate Charity."

"What for? This isn’t about some of the antics she and Gambit have been in is it?" Jean had finally lifted her face from the book she’d been reading before Scott's pacing disturbed her.

"No." Scott resumed his pacing in the boat house. "It looks like the HC have found her."

Jean was speechless for a moment. An earlier conversation came back to haunt her as she thought about this. "Are you going to find her? Didn’t she bring a communicator, you could just call her?"

"Bishop’s still doing some checking around and he hasn’t seen much evidence of her since Cedar Rapids. And she didn’t bring a com badge. She left it in her room."

"When are we leaving then?"

"Are you sure you want to come?"

"Oh please, I’ve been stuck playing Xaviar’s secretary for the past month, let Betsy do that for a change. Besides, I’m a jealous woman. Who else?" She placed her book face down on the couch beside her.

"Logan and Remy. They won’t be left behind. Rogue want’s to come and Bobby too, but we need some people to stay behind. Bishops going to be on the computers trying to fudge the trail for the cops as much as he can."

"Do we know where we’re going?"

"Cedar Rapids."

*****

Present:

She was still sitting on the stairs when she saw a figure vaguely through the frosted glass, leaving the drive way. On pure instinct, Sammy jumped up and threw open the door.

"Charity, wait!" This was still her daughter, still her little girl. And since she wasn’t dead, that mustn’t have been the reason she came, although it was the only reason Sammy could think of.

The girl stopped at the end of the drive way and turned around. She looked so lost, her face pale and her eyes red and puffy from the shed tears. She scratched at her left arm nervously, then smoothing out the material of her sleeve when she realized what she was doing. They stood and just looked at each other. Finally Charity turned to leave again, still unsure.

"Please, come back inside." Emotions still rolled inside of her, but she’d lost her daughter once, she wouldn’t loose her again without at least trying something. The figure near the sidewalk wavered for a moment before heading back to the door. Her face a careful mask hiding anything Sammy might have gleamed from her daughter’s face.

***

I was almost to the street when she called out to me. I stopped, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering what was going to happen; was she going to scream at me, yell at me or call the police on me. I turned around, almost expecting to see her face contorted in rage. Instead I saw a controlled mask of neutrality, hiding anything I might have gleamed. We sat looking at each other, while I was trying to find some hint of what she felt about me in her face. Seeing nothing, I again turned to go, when she asked me inside. I guess I needed to have it said to my face because I went inside. I knew she was afraid of me, of what I was. Of what I had been. How would she react if I told her what I was now.

Stepping back into the entrance way, my mother looked me over and took my bag from my shoulder.

"I-I’m sorry," She said. Why would she say that? "I saw you and thought your father. . . " The sentence trailed off.

"I left mom." As I said that, it felt like a ton had been lifted off my shoulders. Mom’s face searched mine and I guess she found what she was looking for.

"What happened?"

Looking up to her eye’s I saw them glistening. "It’s a long story. But I needed to see if you. . . " I guess it was a day for unfinished sentences. But I wasn’t exactly sure why I had to find my mom. I guess I needed to find a part of my past that didn’t fill me with self-loathing.

"I’m here and I’m fine." Her hand strayed to my shoulder.

***