So patientalien and I have been gradually working our way through the "X-Men: Evolution" series together, and found ourselves thoroughly more entertained than we expected by the Magneto/Wanda/Pietro stuff: Magneto being kind of a sad sack when it comes to his kids; Charles seeming to Know Things in a way that suggests he and Magneto are in cahoots; Wanda giving herself a "Girl, Interrupted" haircut; Pietro's flamboyant gayness. Anywho, it may have inspired some pretty gnarly plot bunnies. Exhibit A.
Summary: Magneto seeks out an old friend after putting Wanda away. Spoilers for season two of "Evolution." Title is from Gnarles Barkley's "Crazy."
I Remember When I Lost My Mind
Fittingly, it was a dark and stormy night when the other man arrived, drenched in rain, wrapped in a damp, dark-colored trench coat, rather than his usual regalia. Charles watched as Magneto used slightly more force than was usually required to shut the window again. He was alone, his face tugged into a severe frown.
"It is done, Charles." His voice is low, pained. He's come here, regardless of whether he'll admit it or not, for comfort, supplication, and Charles tries to be appropriately solemn.
"It is the best option we have, Erik."
"Is it, Charles? Is it really?" The other man's voice is vaguely accusatory, and Charles sighs. He knows what Magneto is thinking, even without skimming the surface of his mind for confirmation: If Charles is rumored to be the most powerful telepath in the world, why, then, can't he help Wanda to calm her mind? Why must they resort to sticking her in a mental institution instead of allowing her to lead a relatively normal, healthy childhood?
But of course, Magneto knows the answer to these questions, though Charles dutifully voices them for him once more: "My sessions with Wanda throughout the years have not shown any improvement. Anything I have accomplished with her has been temporary; as soon as she's left to her own devices again, it dissipates. Even here, around other mutant children, she would be a horrible liability." His words are not without guilt; Magneto seems to pick up on this, because he gives Charles a conciliatory nod, though he remains hulking in the corner of Charles' study, his arms tightly pressed to his person.
"It was terrible, Charles. You ... if you'd seen, heard her ..." Magneto is stammering a bit, and Charles opens his mind in a show of compassion.
"Show me."
Magneto does. From his mind, Charles retrieves his most shallow, recent memory, brimming like an open wound at the forefront of Magneto's thoughts. "Daddy, Daddy no, please!" Wanda screams, her voice shrill and scared. Charles dutifully lets the scene play out; it's an endless loop of pain and confusion and hurt, for both father and daughter, but Charles watches it all, owing that much to Magneto, at least.
When it's over, Charles removes his fingers from his temple and sighs deeply. "I'm so sorry, Erik," he offers sincerely, taking in the slump in the other man's broad shoulders; Charles suspects that this night will haunt Magneto for years to come. A thought comes to mind, and he voices it: "And what of the boy ... ?"
"Pietro is fine," Magneto says shortly. A tendril of memory floats into Charles' mind, this time of a young boy, sleeping fitfully in spite of all of the recent trauma within his family. Erik's hand curls over the lad's forehead before he turns to leave. Charles nods. Then, slowly, like wrangling a stray animal that has learned not to rely on the kindness of humans, he moves his chair slowly towards Magneto, still looming in the shadows.
"Are you all right, Erik?"
He's close enough now that he can see Magneto's eyes close and then open again wearily. "I will be," he says hoarsely. He glances down for a long moment, and then seems to find new resolve from somewhere. "You're sure, Charles ... you can't just ... even if you cannot replace the old memories with better ones, it's not possible to ..."
"Erik. No." Charles' voice is soft, yet firm, as it is every time this strain of conversation is broached between them. "It is a terribly unethical notion, my friend. Also, I'm not even sure that I could do it, not without some awful consequences for Wanda." Magneto looks away, and Charles can see that he's struggling not to lash out in anger and frustration. "I will continue working with her, of course," he promises. "I'll visit her every week at the institution, and ..."
"Of course." Magneto's voice is swift now, and he eyes Charles with well-practiced coolness, his usual demeanor back in place, his mask perfectly drawn up. "As always, Charles, thank you for your advice. I never fail to take it into consideration." He leaves then, the same way that he had come, and Charles watches him go, his own need for comfort hampered as he mires himself in his old friend's agony. Only after several hours does he finally sleep; not fitfully, rather, bent over a pile of papers across his desk, still in his chair, the fire in the fireplace dying to embers behind him as Jean gently shakes him awake, inquiring about breakfast.