Vignette oneshots will be up in about a week. If you want this story to live on for just a little while longer, throw some suggestions at me.

The song that inspired me to write this story came on shuffle right as I was finishing this up. "Dead Hearts" by Stars. It's about moving forward. I'm considering posting the playlist that got me through this story on my profile page. But until then, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and read this story. I owe it all to you.

Charles spent a lot of time in airports, seeing Lee off.

To Lee, it seemed as if she spent more time in airport terminals than she did at the mansion. She talked to cab drivers and flight attendants and strange mutants more than she did with Charles.

Lee's life had turned into some sort of nomadic existence. She lived out of a suitcase. She spent the night in a hotel more nights out of the year than she did at the mansion.

Somewhere, at some point, Lee and Charles had allowed themselves to get swept up in the madness of running a school. They had become too busy for each other. Their lives were no longer their own. Their time was delegated by demanding children and needy mutants.

Charles spent his time cleaning up messes and training young mutants, molding young minds and patiently standing up for mutant rights.

Lee spent her time traveling the country (and eventually the world), spreading the word of Charles Xavier, and sending mutants his way.

There were times that they both missed each other terribly, when phone calls and letters weren't enough. But there was nothing they could do. Their lives weren't their own anymore, a fact that wasn't always so obvious, as they hardly ever had time to reflect.

Their cause was much more important than their relationship.

Over time, their longing to see each other lessened. They had become too busy with their jobs.

But sometimes, Charles liked to wheel himself down to the basement, to Cerebro. He would use the machine that she helped build to find her (the irony wasn't lost on him). He never contacted her, he just wanted to know where she was, what she was doing, if she was doing well. She always remained loyal to him. Even though they didn't speak anymore, she still thought of him, and she still followed him, even from miles and miles away. Apart from his time in Cerebro, the most Charles would see of Lee would be an old photograph of her that he kept in his desk drawer. It was the one of her in the yellow bridesmaids dress at a wedding Charles didn't attend. Lee had left the photos in her old bedroom.

Charles finally found the courage to clean out Raven's old room. Years later, he also eventually found the courage to clean out Lee's old room.

Charles owed everything that the school had become, to her. Lee was responsible for almost all of the students, Cerebro, even the name of the school. She had earned the school several grants, found willing donors, and sent capable teachers to Westchester. She had pulled him from the darkness of betrayal and abandonment, and forced him into action and productivity. She had restored his purpose, and his hope. When he had the time, Charles wondered what his life would have been like if a Swedish woman had never stolen other schools' curriculums, or helped him recruit and train young mutants, had never given him that jump start.

Somewhere along the way, life took hold. Duty took over. Love got pushed to the side for a different time, when they were both a little less busy.

That time never came.