Twenty five years after the destruction of Xavier's Institute-
Charles Xavier lay on the floor of the cave where he and the rest of the mutant race had taken refuge. Tossing and turning in his sleep. He was having that strange dream again. The dream where he had a different life. One before the near extinction of the world and everyone in it. Before the loss of his legs, before the Xavier Institute for gifted children...
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He was sitting in a lawn chair reading the latest about long lost tribes and civilizations in National Geographic while he kept a careful eye on a little girl- no- his young daughter, five year old Misty Christopher Gale Xavier, as she ran around in the mid day sun.
Chasing butterflies again?
He asked in a bemused tone, using the mental pathway he reserved only for those closest to him.
She stopped running and turned her head and looked over her little shoulder at him, noting that he was peeking over the top of his magazine at her while trying to act like he wasn't watching her.
Yeah. So? Spying again?
The small child's voice shot back making him smile.
It isn't spying love. It's taking an active interest in what you do. It's called good parenting.
Xavier said as he turned the page of his magazine and let his eyes scan the words on the page before he glanced up again. His eyes once again going to his daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother with her turquoise colored eyes and mid back length black hair. It was March, he thought to himself, meaning it had been just under a year since his wife had died in a car wreck.
Leaving him to raise the child alone.
In all honesty Misty was a most peculiar child. Nothing at all like he had expected from a union between two mutants. For starters his precious little darling was purely human. Yet at times she seemed to know things that even he with his mutant powers didn't know.
Like she had known about her mother-
He thought with a small frown as he watched Misty resume her chase of a pretty black and blue butterfly. Her little arms reaching out as the insect fluttered around in circles trying to evade being caught by the child's tiny little hands as she spun, made a grab for it- missed then growled in irritation and ran faster. Obviously not willing to give up the chase just yet despite the fact that she had been chasing the butterfly for almost two in a half hours without a breather and was starting to wear down.
You're tiring.