Summary: After the events of "Operation: Rebirth" (season two), Magneto recharges at the Xavier mansion, in more ways than one. Implied Erik/Charles. Title is from Marilyn Manson's "The Last Day on Earth."
I Know They Want Me Dead
The entrance to the underground level of the Xavier mansion is already unlocked when Magneto arrives. Weakened considerably, he nearly breaks a sweat sliding the door open with his powers, and has to lean against the wall for support. He takes several deep breaths, and is grateful for the room's dim lighting, and for the comforting presence of the man in the wheelchair whose worried face greets him.
"Careful," he says by way of greeting. "Slowly, easy does it. I've got it warmed up for you already," Charles tells him, and Magneto can ascertain that he must look terrible by the way Charles' gaze flickers on him and then how he tactfully looks away.
"That bad, is it?" he jokes, but his voice comes out as a wheeze; he sounds, he thinks with disgust, like an old man. He is an old man; but, he knows, he won't be for long. At least, he won't look, or feel, like one anymore.
Charles' face is placid. "This first, and then you may resume having a terrible sense of humor," he says, and Erik laughs, but obediently steps into the machine. Charles waits until he is fully prepared, and then there's a low rumbling sound overhead, signifying that it's on and working.
The process takes several minutes. While the machine whirs and Charles moves quietly around the room in his chair, allowing Erik his privacy and dignity, Erik's thoughts on the events of the recent past run their course. It had angered him that the government had been so hellbent on the complete disbandment of Operation: Rebirth, particularly when he suspected that it had several other, even less ethical tricks up its long, mysterious sleeve, but it did not surprise him. As he well knew, large bodies of power did not like for others to learn their secrets, and not only had Erik done just that, but he'd attempted to harvest the power of the Rebirth machine as his own. The presence of Wolverine had thrown a further wrench into his plans; but, he supposed, that was to be expected, as well.
The machine finally whirs to a stop, and with the absence of its radiation treatment, which he has come to rely on with increased regularity since his own dapplings in genetic experimentation on Asteroid M., comes Magneto's newfound strength. The door to the chamber opens smoothly at his whim, and he floats out, landing easily on the floor like a cat. Flexing his muscles experimentally, he nods at Charles: "Thank you," he says sincerely.
Charles' eyes are mirthful. "Thank you for not killing any of my students today," he replies, and Magneto's gaze darkens.
"They did not understand what they did," he frowns. "Their deaths would have been considerable, justifiable revenge. However, I owed it to Wolverine to allow them to go free." He does not need to explain; Charles already knows. Even if he didn't, a glance at Erik's surface thoughts, dancing with memories of a rainy night at an internment camp long ago, and a bright, red, white, and blue shield, would have easily filled in any blanks.
Charles just nods. "We do not always realize the consequences of our actions. Rogue and the others did not see what they were doing wrong by destroying the machine. They were just doing as the government had asked."
"Foolish," Magneto spats bitterly, and Charles inclines his head, intent on keeping the peace.
"I know," he says firmly. He gestures at the recently-used chamber. "And that is why they will never know about the previous machines' triplet. Its existence is on a need-to-know basis; and, as far as I anticipate, that need will only ever belong to you and I."
Erik nods. He looks up, suddenly, and Charles' gaze follows. "Must you get back to your students?" he asks. "I'm sure you have several other, more important matters that require your attention."
Charles shrugs. "They can get by for an evening. If you'd like to stay, I would appreciate your company." He wheels over to a low-slung table, upon which sits a chess set, the pieces unmoved for several weeks, now. "Well?" he asks, and Magneto's smile is bright even in the soft lamp light.
"Sure," the caped man says, slipping into the chair opposite Charles'. He nods at the other man. "Your move."