They all stood around the grave. Moira, Alex, Sean, Raven, Hank, and Erik. They were back at the mansion and it was raining, ironically. No one was smiling and why should they? You could find more cheer in a morgue and the tension could be cut with a knife. The beach seemed years ago, even though it just happened the other day, and Erik looked around at everyone else.
He felt like a traitor and maybe he was. No. He WAS. He is. Erik looked over to Alex, who stood near Hank, and noticed he wasn't crying, but he knew Alex still felt terrible. Hank seemed to retreat back a little, obviously still self-conscious, but there was a glint in his eyes. Sean looked ill. Like he was about to throw up. Moira and Raven were sobbing openly, Raven in disguise. She was trying to hide. Moira probably felt the worst of all of them, besides Erik of course.
It was his fault. And he knew it. Moira and Raven looked over in his direction and shook their heads scornfully, wondering why they had let Erik come here in the first place. Erik didn't care what they thought of him. After all, Moira didn't have to shoot at him. Charles didn't have to die. Not like this.
Erik wasn't crying, but he wanted to. He loved Charles. He was like a brother to him, well, a brother that he often kissed and touched affectionately. But they only ever kissed, even though they both wanted more. It just didn't seem right.
"Why not?" Charles pouted.
Erik stared up at where Charles straddled his waist, pinning him to the ground in the courtyard. Charles was grinning slyly and his hands clutched around Erik's wrists.
"I like the way we are now," Erik lied.
"Are you afraid?"
"I've never been afraid of anything in my life."
"You're a terrible liar, Erik. I don't need to be psychic to know that." Charles bent down and pecked Erik on the lips. It was sweet and warm. Charles really wish he would reconsider. He wanted Erik. "We could go places, you and I."
"No. You just want to fuck me," Erik scoffed.
"Well, there's that too I guess," Charles admitted. He climbed off of Erik and dusted himself off. Charles lent a hand and Erik reached for it. They walked hand in hand towards the mansion and Charles couldn't be happier.
"You know I love you, right?" Erik asked.
Charles made a quaint little smile and giggled heartily to himself. Erik loved seeing Charles smile and hearing that laugh.
"I love you more than you know, my friend."
Those words were sincere. It was everything Charles was and that was all the recognition Erik needed.
They lowered his casket into the ground. The same spot in the courtyard where him and Charles had spent most of their time. Talking, playing, kissing.
One by one they drop their roses into the hole, onto Charles' coffin. Erik was the last to do so and he lingered momentarily, frozen in place. He wasn't believing his eyes, or at least didn't want to. Charles was dead.
The boys decided to head back inside. They were wet, exhausted, and drained of all emotion. Raven followed suit, but Moira stayed behind. Erik stared at her, trying to figure out what to say, if he should say anything at all.
"You loved him, didn't you?" Moira asked quietly.
Erik blinked past the water droplets that had collected on his eye lashes. Moira gazed at him with a mix of sorrow and something that resembled hope. She seemed to lighten up on her mood a little. For the sake of herself, Erik supposed.
"I did," he stated plainly, then corrected himself. "I do."
Moira nodded and looked down into the six foot hole. She sighed heavily and for a split second, she almost forgot where she was. Forgot what had happened. Moira never got closer to Erik, nor did she move a muscle.
"So did I. But, I knew I never had a chance. Especially against you."
The delivery of the admission almost stung Erik. He bit back a sob and tears dared to tip over his eyes. Moira saw him fighting an unwinnable battle with himself and walked over to put a hand on his shoulder.
"Crying doesn't make you weak, Erik. It makes us stronger." And with that, she walked away and out of the rain. Trudging through the soggy grass, she looked back one last time. At Erik and Charles.
Erik stood there and when he was finally alone, he cried. He dropped to his knees and didn't care if he got dirty; he was already soaked. He could still remember the beach.
He remembered seeing Charles arch his back in pain and crumple to the ground. His boding hitting the sand with a thud. Everyone's face distorted into shock and Erik didn't realize what had happened at first, but when he tip toed over to Charles' prone body and bent down, it was clear.
The stray bullet had ricocheted and pierced through Charles' back and out of his chest. Erik scooped Charles' lifeless body into his arms. His eyes were open. Those big blue irises blank, but still undoubtedly beautiful.
Erik shook Charles a few times, wanting to believe he was still alive, but it was no use. Charles was dead and Erik had killed him. After that, no one was the same and Erik thought that maybe nothing would ever be the same.
Erik could lie and say it was a sacrifice for all mutant kind, for the greater good. But it wasn't and Erik banished all thoughts of a revolution out of his mind. He was no better than the humans. And this war would never end. Without Charles, the thought of uniting in peace was absurd and far fetched.
He stared down at Charles' headstone one last time. Charles was dead, but Erik thought that maybe, just maybe, he was still alive. Not physically, of course, but mentally. Erik could feel Charles all around him.
His astral form floating infinitely between time and space for an eternity.
Charles is dead, but he's not. He's lost and has been here before, but this time it's different. There's no vessel to return to. Charles is trapped in this world between the living and the dead. And for once in his life, he's afraid.
Death. It's like waking up for the first time. Like being born. It happens so fast you get dizzy and you're confused about your surroundings. Things that should be old news and familiar suddenly become foreign. You don't recognize anything and it's as if you have amnesia.
But for Charles it was different. It wasn't so much as confusion, but shock. One minute he's on the beach, pleading for Erik to stop and the next thing he knows, he's floating. High above everyone. At first he thought he might've accidentally projected in the heat of the moment, but he was wrong. He watched as his own body arched and fell to the ground.
He saw Erik cradle his body in his arms, gently trying to shake him awake and knowing it was no use. Charles looked around and his eyes focused on the others. Everyone was radiating with color. They were more vibrant then they were when he was alive. It was beautiful.
Charles didn't realize where he was until the funeral a few days later. He knew he was dead, but there was something familiar about were he was know. He knew he wasn't in the great beyond, but somewhere in between the living and dead. Judging by his ability to leave his body while he was alive, he knew he wasn't a ghost.
It was clear that he was astral projected into a purgatory he liked to call The Neutral. In this place you weren't dead and you weren't alive. You just simply were. You existed and floated around the living without them knowing it and if you were a strong enough 'being' you could even affect the living world.
Charles knew a lot about this place and he knew what he could and couldn't do. He knew he was capable of almost everything, but even here certain rules applied and, being the nice guy he was, he didn't mess with the living and he didn't possess anyone's body for his own sick pleasure. He didn't want to stay in The Neutral forever. So he waited.
Over a span of two months, Charles patiently watched and observed who was left at the mansion. It seems Alex had stuck around, along with Sean and Raven. And of course Hank stayed too. Angel was gone, which wasn't a big shock. What was a big shock, though, was Erik. Erik stayed.
After awhile, Charles could see how everyone was growing.
It seemed Hank was finally adjusting in his new skin, and hair, but he was still self conscious and locked himself in his lab most of the time. He wasn't working too hard on coming up with a serum to reverse his condition, but learning his own strength.
Raven was hiding herself again. It seemed she became a hypocrite of her own motto. She changed the most. She didn't go after Hank or Erik anymore, she just wanted to be left alone. Charles thought as he drifted around her, that maybe she'd leave eventually.
Sean was still awkward and happy-go-lucky. He hung around Alex a lot, usually to give him a hard time and because there weren't many options. He flew a lot and, on several occasions, broke a few windows. He seemed very talented at hiding his true feelings.
Alex was still quiet and crass. He was afraid of letting go of his control. He spent most times in the bomb-shelter-turned-blasting-range, trying to learn control. He'd swing around the lab and poke jokes at Hank while he worked and Hank would blush and growl whenever Alex would pet his fur.
Erik walked idly around the mansion most days. He'd stand in the courtyard and look down on Charles' grave and Charles would be there right behind him. Erik would kneel down and murmur 'I'm sorry' everytime. At night, Erik would leave his room after everyone else had went to bed and he'd crawl into Charles' bed. Erik would take a pillow and curl his body around it, trying to recreate the presence of warmth and serenity. Charles would watch this every night. He'd watch Erik sob into the pillow, mumbling choked out words that resembled 'sorry', 'Charles', and 'love'. Charles would watch him sleep and the radiance of color would shine so bright and Erik would look so beautiful.
"Do you know what I like most about you?" Charles said against Erik's bare chest.
Erik chuckled heartily. "I'm afraid to ask," he said as he rubbed his hand up and down Charles' arm affectionately.
They were in Erik's room cuddling to eachother. It was the night before the beach and they couldn't sleep. They just laid there and talked while Charles would kiss Erik's chest. This was refreshing and affectionate and uncomplicated. Without the sex, they could say what was on their mind without the other thinking it was just in the spur of the moment.
"Everything," Charles breathed heavily. "There's not one thing I hate about you."
"You must be thinking of someone else," Erik remarked jokingly.
"Am not! I'm being sincere."
They went silent after they giggled a little and Erik looked down at the man in his arms. He wished he could stay like this forever. Erik brushed hair out of Charles' face and stroked his cheek, wanting to portray every feeling into one motion.
"I'm nervous," Charles whispered. Listening to Erik's heart beat./p
"What of?"
"Tomorrow."
That one word sent a shiver down both of their spines and would define everything about them from here on in. Neither of them wanted tomorrow to happen, but it was virtually unavoidable.
"So am I," Erik admitted.
"You?" Charles questioned. "The man who tried lifting a submarine?"
Erik pinched Charles' arm and Charles yelped in shock. "Don't be cheeky. I mean it. Everyone is scared about tomorrow. What would make me any different?"
"I didn't mean it like that, my friend. You're just so strong," Charles grinned and curled up against Erik's body even more, snuggling his head into the spot between shoulder and neck. "So fearless and brave. A good man."
"You're a better man," Erik whispered into Charles' hair. "You'll always be the best of all of us, Charles."
Charles laid there against Erik and considered this. He moved with the rise and fall of each breath Erik took. He didn't want this to be goodbye, because that's what it sounded like. The room was dark with the exception of the moon filtering in through the window and the murmurs of slumber where nagging entry into Charles' consciousness.
"Erik?"
"Hmm?"
"When this is over-"
"It never will be Charles."
"After tomorrow then," Charles clarified. "Can I love you the way I want to?"
"In what way?"
"A more intimate way."
And Charles kissed Erik's neck with damp lips, nipping only slightly at his skin. Erik sighed and tightened his grip a little on Charles, seeming to agree with a hum of amusement. That was enough for Charles to know it meant yes. That Erik would love to love him in an entirely different way from what they've been doing.
Charles fell asleep in Erik's arms shortly after.
Charles never slept. He couldn't if he tried. In The Neutral, no one slept or ate or dreamed. Time passed slower and no one ever got tired. But Charles was. He couldn't stand watching them and not being able to say anything. Not being able to be seen.
You could say Charles was going slightly mad. The once beautiful vibrant colors of everyone's auras were giving him a headache. It's been almost three months now and he's never been in The Neutral that long. He needed to escape this place. He needed to be with the kids and Erik again. Charles couldn't stand this anymore.
His astral body left the mansion and drifted across the planes of his world in search of a way out. Different entities from all time periods floated along around him. They were lost and withered souls who didn't know themselves anymore, with permanent smiles plastered on porcelain faces. Charles wondered if they could even speak. Charles hadn't even tried.
Some of the others in The Neutral often tried to take over living bodies and this made Charles uneasy. They were no different then parasites looking to live again and infect the world higher than their's. And sometimes Charles would see Travelers, people with the ability to astral project.
Charles had come to find that some people's auras aren't vibrant. At first he thought they were merely dead, but in truth they were still alive. But just barely. These people who didn't shine were dying or already dead inside.
The people who were dead inside could be the healthiest people in the world, but their will to live was insignificant at best. Charles was anger and envious of these people who took their life for granted. Dying without a cause. He'd give anything to be alive again.
If people could wither away without disease or death giving them an extra push, then surely one could will themselves to live again. A door had opened in this world and Charles would take it.
"What are we gonna do?" Sean asked aloud at breakfast. "I mean, now that Charles is dead."
It had been eight months since the beach and everyone was starting to loose hope. They forgot why they were staying here.
This was one of the rare times everyone was actually in the same room together. To make it even more rare, Moira had come over to see how things were going and by the looks of it they were bad.
"He's right," Hank added. "We can't just sit around. We have to come up with a plan."
"I'd still be in high school," Alex said absently.
"Exactly! Charles wanted this to be a school for people like us. Who says it can't be that anymore?" Hank had a serious face and was determined to make things better. "Charles would want us to carry on with his dream."
"How will we do that?" Raven asked without looking up or taking a bite of food.
"Well," Moira said. "I'm sure Hank and I could come up with some sort of curriculum."
"And then find suitable mutants to teach and supervise classes," Hank finished.
"Who'd be the principal? You?" Sean asked sarcastically towards Hank.
Hank rolled his eyes and disregarded Sean's gibe. He looked over to where Erik was sitting, quietly eating his cereal, and raised an eyebrow curiously. He wasn't the best of leaders, but it was a shot.
"Why not Mr. Lehnsherr?" Hank shot back toward Sean in all seriousness.
Erik's head snapped up at the mention of his name and became flustered. "Me?"
"It would make sense," Moira thought out loud. "He's the oldest and he's a mutant."
"Don't you think he's a little dangerous after the whole beach thing?" Raven sneered under her breath.
"Raven you're such a hypocrite," Alex scoffed.
Screw you Alex!" She growled back.
"Everyone just chill out," said Sean.
Then everybody burst into heated chatter, arguing and yelling at eachother. Sometimes telling people to calm down and other times defending their good names. Without Charles here, everything was unstable and it couldn't be stopped.
There was a knock at the door that no one except for Erik seemed to hear. He slipped away from the bickering and sped down the hallway to the foyer. He got to the big oak door and paused. When there was another knock he opened it slowly.
A man stood there. He had dark brown hair and was a little short compared to Erik's looming form. He looked young and somehow familiar. And when Erik looked into the young man's bright blue eyes, he knew instantly.
"Can I help you?" Erik asked out of breath.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This man looked so familiar, but a stranger at the same time. The man smiled warmly, his eyes creasing in gleeful slits. The blue in his eyes became glassy and tears brimmed over the bottom lids.
"I came to see an old friend."