Rage and Serenity

A miracle, by definition, is an extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all human or natural powers and is attributed to a supernatural cause. A wonder. A marvel. Miracles were such a rarity that it wasn't unlikely for one not to believe in their existence at all. Pessimism was a prominent character trait in Erik Lensherr; he considered nothing in his twenty-four years of life to be a miracle, or remotely associated to one. If not for his mutant abilities, he had no doubt that he would be dead. His powers are what kept him alive, but as a guinea pig for all of Schmidt's torturous experiments. But now, Erik was beginning to doubt his own assumptions. His assumption that he was unlikely to be the subject of a miracle, had proven to be false.

He knew such a miracle would not have been possible if not for the guidance of Charles Xavier, a man he had just met days prior. Erik, or "Magneto", as he was nicknamed by Raven, had successfully moved the largest transmitter on Charles mansion grounds, using his abilities: abilities that he had thought had reached their full potential. Abilities that had originally been triggered by anger were this time prompted by peaceful meditation. Peace: another thing Erik concluded was impossible to achieve. But he had done it. Charles helped him to do it.

Why he had so much trust in this man after just a few days, he did not know. There was something about him that drew Erik in like a moth to a flame. Could it be his compassion towards individuals that shared his same nature? Could it be his knowledge of things that even he was far from understanding? It not those, then what?

Erik collapsed against the stone railing of the courtyard, a broad grin spread across his handsome face. He had broken into a short fit of hysterics as he stared out at the transmitter that he'd just relocated. The satisfaction he felt was indescribable. Charles stood at his side, sharing in his delight of such a wondrous accomplishment. Erik felt a warm hand clasp on his shoulder, and instantly he turned his attention to the British professor, only to be faced with a genuine, friendly smile.

"You've done it, Erik."

Normalcy, by definition, is the state of being within certain limits that define the range of normal functioning. It was a state that most human beings gravitated toward and clung to; the delicate balance between peace and chaos that allowed some semblance of happiness. Normalcy meant ease of mind, a state that he had never quite achieved because Charles Xavier had never been considered normal. He was well aware of this from a young age; though his mutation was hidden, it was omnipresent within his own being.

There were things in this world that were never meant to be explained - though he pored over textbooks and yearned for a constant pursuit of knowledge, he knew that there were simply things that were not meant to be clarified. He experienced them every day firsthand, had experienced them for every day of his life for the past twenty-four years. Nothing in his own research had ever so much as hinted at the type of genetic mutation he possessed, or the type any of them possessed for that matter; in his years of study, he'd never once come across an explanation for Raven's blue skin and yellow eyes, nor had he found clear justification for his ability to read and control the minds of those around him. They were well-kept secrets if anything; mere rumors that circulated amongst the government and general public on a whim, when things were uncertain or treading dangerous ground. Mutation was not something that was freely discussed or remotely accepted, and because of it, their very existence did not warrant an explanation.

But just because they were not normal or meant to be explained did not subvert the actuality of their presence. Charles himself had witnessed more miracles in the past week than most people did in their entire lives; he was witnessing one now, standing next to a young man he'd only met days prior. As the satellite across the grounds slowly turned to face them, he felt a smile turn the corners of his lips upward - Erik had done it, though he'd believed that he could not.

Laughter burst forth from the back of his throat; he could feel the relief and triumph radiating from the other man's body as he collapsed against the stone railing. He stood there a moment to observe him; now that he knew the catalyst needed for accessing Erik's full potential, there were no limits to what could be accomplished. They'd already traveled leaps and bounds in just an afternoon's time, he could only imagine what could be done in another week.

"You've done it, Erik." He clasped a hand onto his shoulder without thinking, another broad grin on his face. His gaze wandered again to the satellite across the grounds before flickering back to the other man's face. "You've done it."

Once Erik's hysterics considerably lessened, he stared in absolute wonder at Charles. He felt something that he has never felt before. Compassion. Granted, Charles showed this to the rest of his recruits, but with him it was different. He could see it. When Charles looked at him, Erik felt like he was staring straight into his soul. If Charles wanted to, in an instant he could know all of his innermost wants and desires. He could know what makes him angry, what makes him sad, and he could access all of his childhood memories-the ones he stored away in the deepest and darkest recesses of his mind. Truth be told, they were memories that Erik forgot he even had. Because his past was so hard, he preferred to keep it locked away, so it could never rear its ugly head again.

The time he spent in the concentration camp, when he saw his mother get shot, being poked and prodded more times than he can count in Schmidt's ruthless experimentation, all of it, was non-existent. He was a stronger person now, he proved that today. He knew that so long as he had a purpose, that nothing could stand in his way. Charles made a point explaining to him that killing Sebastian Shaw would gain him nothing, but in reality, he would gain everything. That man's death would result in millions of saved lives, and the mission to avenge his mother's death would finally be complete.

"Yeah," Erik started, expression proving him to still be awestruck at what had just occurred. "I, uh…" He allowed himself a brief pause to clear his throat and regain his composure. This-what he was about to say, wasn't normal. He never had to do this. He had always depended on himself. He was independent. He needed no one. At least, that is what he thought. "Thank you."

Charles hand lingered on Erik's shoulder a moment longer than it should have, and he hastily removed it as soon as the realization struck him. There was something different about the young man that he couldn't quite place; a hint of mystery in his eyes that drew him in and made him want to know more. Perhaps it was his rather persistent sense of curiosity, the need to figure out every aspect of his life and other's - he'd only met Erik days ago, after all. There should not have been any deeper attachment than a budding friendship if that, but there certainly was.

Though he showed compassion toward all of the young men and women living at the mansion - especially Raven, though she had been with him for too many years to count - it was Erik who truly drew him in.

"You're welcome." Charles said, smiling again. "I knew you were capable of something like that - you're more than you give yourself credit for, Erik. Anger isn't the only way to access your power...there's a balance, as I've said, between rage and serenity. You only have to find it."

He was speaking too much, off on another tangent that Raven would undoubtedly roll her eyes at had she been there with them, but he was still smiling like a complete fool. So much progress in such little time still completely awed him; even he had not been able to do something quite so spectacular.

Erik opened his mouth to say something, but his brain could not process a single coherent thought. Rather than just shutting it, he chuckled lightly, shaking his head and turning back to face the transmitter. What Charles was saying actually made sense, but part of him was afraid to admit that he didn't find such a balance on his own. His whole life, he had been overwhelmed with the need and want for revenge. So much so that he never took the time to explore other avenues of his powers. Charles was leading him down the right path: the path that would do more good than it would harm. "Up until now," Erik started up again, hands clenching reflexively, eyes still focused out in the distance. "I thought ever finding such a thing was a lost cause." That is all he ever knew to be.

Angry. Depressed. Vengeful. Schmidt reaffirmed numerous times that anger was the trigger to his abilities, and all this time he believed him. Erik was beyond grateful in Charles efforts to prove him otherwise. He had a purpose, and Charles merely showed him the way.

Erik turned back to face Charles moments after he'd felt the others presence come nearer. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. A real smile. One that he had never given anyone else before. "But I have found it." Thanks to you.

Even as Erik looked away from him, Charles found himself studying the other's face. He'd always been able to at least make some sort of guess at what the people around him were thinking even without the use of his abilities, but things were different with Erik. There were too many emotions drifting across his face in such brief instances he could barely catch them all, much less process them.

A lost cause. Charles had never believed in such things, personally. He'd seen too much to believe that things could just simply be lost. "Of course it isn't, Erik." he said, moving closer without thinking about doing so. He was still staring off in the distance, his eyes trained on the satellite he had only recently moved. The expression on his face had calmed, a countenance that smoothed his features and suited him nicely. It was as if he was a completely different person when it was only the two of them - here, he didn't have to play the part of hardened and vengeful mutant.

The smile on Erik's face pinned him to the spot as soon as he turned. For a moment, his mind emptied - something that was remarkably unsettling for a telepath, even in the briefest of instances - and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was again moving closer to the other man. His words knocked some sort of sense back into him, and Charles shook his head slightly, his gaze still searching Erik's face. The smile was real, more real than he had ever given anyone in recent years, and Charles found himself smiling in return.

"You found it on your own. I only provided you with the push in the right direction."

Erik swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat, clenching his jaw as he attempted to keep whatever semblance of control he assumed to have left. There was something in that smile that sent him almost literally over the edge. He watched intently as Charles moved even closer than he already had been, not knowing for sure if it was done unconsciously, or if it was completely intentional. Now, only a mere foot separated them. "But I never would have found it without your help," Erik trailed off, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort on Charles face. There was none. "In some way." Those last three words came out as a whisper; breath hot over the other man's lower lip.

Erik saw Charles swallow heavily. The anticipation was figuratively killing him. He couldn't stand it any longer. Now, he knew his purpose. He knew what he wanted to do. Hell, Charles could have read his mind and saw that he had wanted this. But if Charles didn't want it as well, he wouldn't look as if he was willing to go through with it. Charles stood for a lot of things, and he never did anything that he did not want to do. He was noble like that. Such nobility was quite admirable.

"I have the utmost faith in you." Charles replied, another gorgeous smile gracing his lips. Erik returned it wholeheartedly before leaning down a fraction, lips a scant couple inches from Charles' own before...

"Charles! The President is about to give his address!"

Erik could have scowled when Moira poked her head out the window and made said declaration. His eyes shifted in her direction, and her lips were now pressed tightly into a thin line. Had she come seconds later, Erik bet she would have witnessed something particularly horrifying. A blind man could see that Moira had some sort of feelings for the Professor, even if she didn't state it outright. Charles closed his eyes momentarily, then sighing lightly, sensing Erik's disappointment through the link he'd created upon first accessing his memories. "I'm sorry," He whispered in his usual, British accent. "Tonight, perhaps?"

Erik offered the man a smile as he ran off to meet Moira.

Tonight.

-END-