Hey everyone!
First off, before you read this, IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE "X-MEN: FIRST CLASS", PLEASE DON'T READ ANY FURTHER!
This story has spoilers (and the way I write assumes that you know who characters are), so if you read, read at your own risk, and don't say I didn't warn you!
Also, I'm leaving tomorrow (I've got a job in Colorado that'll keep me from my computer until early August) so I just wanted to get this little tidbit out to give you guys a taste of what the story'll be like.
If you like it, and want more, or have some constructive critisisms...
PLEASE REVIEW!
Thanks, and I hope to be back to updating in August!
X-Men: Unpredictable Evils
a X-Men: First Class fanfic by:
Sapphire-Raindrop
Chapter 1: Forgotten Wisdom
Charles watched in horror as Erik – a cool and cruel Erik, not the man Charles knew and cared for – lifted his arms, his eyes narrowing to nudge the missiles back toward the waiting naval ships. Their white and grey bodies were like birds, soaring effortlessly across the sky. One might say that it looked rather impressive, to see so many missiles of different size arcing gracefully across the heavens. But all Charles saw was the destructive power locked within the metal bodies; all he felt were the confused and terrified minds of the innocent men aboard the missiles' targets.
"Erik, stop them! Stop them now!" Charles shrieked, his blue eyes snapping to his best friend. Erik's eyes were narrowed and greedy, watching his masterpiece with pleasure. He didn't respond to Charles's plea, and the telepath's horrified blue eyes locked back onto the missiles. The young man gritted his teeth as the thoughts came pouring in, and although the languages were different, the underlying emotion of desperation and fear were the same.
How are the missiles…oh shit! – Что, черт возьми? – Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in Heaven – О пожалуйста Бог, ой, пожалуйста, пожалуйста, пожалуйста –
Charles felt the stabbing pain as even more thoughts gushed into his brain, and with a scream of desperate anguish he threw himself at the metal-wielding mutant. The two bodies collided jarringly, and Erik fell heavily, a gust of air leaving both of them as they hit the rocky sand that made up the beach. Coughing from the sand, Charles struggled to keep a hold on Erik, ignoring the fact that his friend was twisting his arm at a painful angle.
"Stop it, Erik!" Charles practically sobbed, his emotions running high from his own fear and the overwhelming hysteria of the terrified soldiers aboard the ships.
"Don't make me hurt you, Charles!" Erik snarled roughly, and when Charles refused to budge, sent his fist smashing into Charles's face, sending the young man's head snapping back with such force that he saw stars. The yells of the other mutants behind them faded into the background and Charles's eyes squeezed tightly as his vision wavered. Erik righted himself, and the missiles resumed their unwavering flight toward the naval fleet.
The pain was sharp and intense, and yet something kept Charles fighting, and Erik stumbled as Charles tackled him, sending a punch to Erik's jaw as he did so. The feeling of using physical violence to communicate with Erik after all they had been through was strangely exhilarating to the telepath – who had spent a majority of his life quietly observing the world through people's minds, safe in the background.
Charles had never been forced to fight for something he wanted, because information was something that he could just swipe from an unaware mind. He had money – thanks to a rather large and loveless inheritance left by his parents when they died in that fateful car crash – he had moderately good looks, so getting girls wasn't impossible. The telepath knew that no matter how difficult he and Raven's relationship may be at times, he had a steady friend and confidant in her, so there was no risk of anything going wrong in that part of his life.
And now, quite suddenly, Charles was being forced to fight for something precious to him. Forced to give every single ounce of power and hope into avoiding Erik's fall from moral goodness. He needed Erik, his friendship had opened so many windows in his former way of observing the world, and he believed that he had a similar impact on Erik. They balanced each other out, they could bring change to the world.
When looking for that little memory of serenity earlier that month – in order to help Erik with his metal manipulation – Charles had also come upon another memory. By the dimness of it, he suspected that Erik had forgotten that it even existed. Charles hadn't mentioned it to Erik, seeing as it was unrelated and it seemed much too cruel to have Erik relive it. But now, he saw the memory as a final stand, a final stab to try and convince Erik of the good in him and in mankind.
But first, Charles had to remove that telepathy-blocking helmet.
Erik's fist suddenly appeared before his eyes and Charles grunted as another powerful blow was delivered to his cheek, resulting in raw coppery blood welling up in his mouth. Erik rose once more, and his face was stony as the few remaining missiles – most of them had veered toward the ocean in those moments in which Charles forced Erik focus away from directing the weapons.
Charles heard dimly the yells of Moira, and heard several gunshots. The sound made him realize that Erik was effectively distracted. The telepath jumped to his feet, and jumped at Erik, feeling a blindingly painful pain imbed itself into his hip as he did so. A stray bullet. As he fell, Charles managed to pull the metal helmet from Erik's head, and without further ado invaded the metal manipulator's mind, forcing him to remain still.
Please, Erik. Listen to me, Charles soothed with his mind, pushing aside his own pain. The telepath recoiled at the angry boil of Erik's thoughts. They were erratic and violent, and Charles had trouble keeping the man motionless.
Get the hell out of my head!
Charles sighed – both mentally and physically – and went on. There is good in you, Erik.
That has–
But Charles gave him no time to argue, instead reaching into Erik's mind and yanking forward the memory.
Ten-year-old Erik sat in the dark corner with his mother and father, all of them shivering as they stared around at all of the other occupants of the small apartment. The Nazis had ordered them into these uncomfortable living quarters earlier that week, and Erik didn't like the place, not one bit. He missed the sweet smell of lavender and mint – both grew in his mother's vegetable garden – that always pervaded the air in their home. He missed riding on his bicycle to and from school, and he missed going to the ice-cream parlor with his friends.
Erik's fingers tugged at the Star of David that was clumsily sewn in plain sight on his jacket, and he looked up at his parents, who were quietly talking to each other in the dim light. His mother's eyes were shiny and frightened in the darkness, and his father held her close, his own expression only slightly more composed than hers. Erik scowled, and moved closer to his mother, looking up into her thin face.
"Mama, why are we here?"
Erik's father responded, in a hoarse whisper. "Because the Nazis believe that we of Jewish heritage are…bad people."
Erik frowned. "But isn't that wrong? I mean, we're not bad, right?"
His father nodded. "No, we're not bad, Erik. But the Nazis seem to think so. They view us as less than human, and there have been several cases in which some of our people have been killed for merely making eye contact with a soldier. They will–"
Eric's eyes widened as he spoke, and continued to widen until Erik's mother sharply interrupted. "Bartek! Enough!"
Erik's father turned to his wife with a sad smile on his face. "Halina, he will learn of the Nazi cruelty soon enough, it is shameful to try and shield him from it!" The young boy looked from his father to his mother, unsure of whom to side with. He hated fighting, but it didn't seem like they were fighting, not this time anyway.
His mother put her arms around little Erik, and the boy let his worries lessen slightly as he felt her hands rub slowly on the back of his neck, a familiar gesture that reminded the boy of happier days spent listening to stories by a crackling fire.
"There will always be evil in the world, my Erik. Sometimes, it will seem as if every human being is against you, sometimes it will seem as if there is nothing left to hope for. But in a world where there is unspeakable evil, there is also remarkable kindness. God put every one of us here for a reason. It is our responsibility to discover that reason, and come to terms with it. No matter what happens, my love, do not give in to the evil. For your light will shine the way for others who feel just as alone and afraid. Do you understand?"
Erik nodded, his eyes closing as he leaned into his mother's comforting embrace.
With a yell, Charles pulled out of Erik's mind, the pain erupting in his hip as he tried to put weight on his leg, sending gray spots before his eyes. The sand rose to meet him, and he gripped the grainy substance as the fire burned under his skin. There was so much pain, and a keen filled the air as he struggled to control the agony raging in his body.
Suddenly the bullet was being pulled out rather tenderly, and two strong arms were supporting him, propping up his head. Charles's eyes snapped open to meet two gray-blue ones. Erik bent his head over Charles's body, his voice soft and weak as tears ran down his face.
"I didn't remember…I couldn't remember…"
Charles's heart softened as he reached up to place a hand on his friend's shoulder, blinking rapidly to dispel his own rising tears. "I know, Erik. I know."
Erik's eyes lifted to gaze at the collection of mutants that, until this moment, had seemed to be apart of another world. Now, as the fight subsided, the two were sucked back into reality, back into the noisy, painful senses that had been dulled by their reckless wrestling. Charles let his eyes flicker to the group, and a choked feeling rose as a result. His friends, his fighters, were so young, and yet they were standing tall and proud as if they hadn't just saved the world from nuclear destruction.
Raven and Hank were standing close together, watching the two combating mutants with freakishly similar expressions of nervous anxiety, their golden eyes darting to meet the other's gaze before moving back to their original focus. Alex was supporting Sean, both looking battered and tired, but still determined. Angel and Azazel were standing somewhat off to the side beside an unconscious Riptide, looking uneasy and out of place. It seemed that Shaw had had more of an influence on their views than Charles had suspected. Moira was staring at Charles with her gun still raised, her pretty brown eyes so wide that Charles wanted to go comfort her and kiss her worry away.
But Charles knew that that particular desire would never – could never – be satisfied. He and Moira had no chance for romance, because he couldn't ask her to leave the life she had always known for a more mysterious and dangerous one. No matter how selfish Charles may be, he knew that he wasn't that selfish. He wasn't that cruel.
Erik was still crying, and Charles knew that he had to speak.
"Erik," he whispered, and Erik looked up at the sound of his name. "I know that it may seem impossible – the idea that humans will one day accept us. I've had my doubts too, but I refuse to believe that mankind is inferior. It's like your mother said; God has a reason for the existence of human beings, and that includes us mutants. We mutants have found our purpose: to help mankind understand that that which they do not understand is not indefinitely evil. I need to help the rest of the world find their purpose. But I can't do it alone. Please, Erik, you're my best friend. Help me, help me find the other mutants and teach them. The mutants out there need you, they need us."
Erik's eyes were wide, and Charles didn't dare enter his mind, wanting to let the man make his own decision. He watched the emotions flicker across Erik's face, and the metal-manipulator's head jerked in Moira's direction. Moira rushed over, and Charles never let his eyes leave Erik's. The woman accidentally bumped Charles's hip, and a yelp left him as his vision faded into whiteness.
When Charles opened his eyes, he was in a hospital room, staring up at the pale green tile ceiling and blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright artificial lights. The pain in his hip was gone, and he reached down automatically to feel the thick bandages wrapped around his waist.
"Don't worry, there's no permanent damage," a familiar voice drawled from his right, and Charles turned, almost afraid to see who it was that had spoken. Blue eyes met blue-gray ones, and Erik stood with a small smile. "Surprised to see me, friend?"
Charles could do nothing more than nod. Erik sighed, leaning against the bedpost, his powerful arms crossing as he scowled at the floor. His face was clean-shaven and free of grime, and his clothes had been changed since the battle at the beach. How long have I been unconscious? Charles wondered, and Erik finally looked back up at the telepath.
"It's what my mother would have wanted. She was always so accepting of everyone…despite their peculiarities…" his voice trailed off, emotion making it impossible to continue. Charles nodded, knowing exactly what Erik was feeling. He had felt it and seen it, within Erik's memories, and the experience had nearly broken Charles's heart. The telepath wished that he was able to move, and settled for smiling at Erik instead.
"Thank you, Erik."
Erik shrugged, and nodded to the doorway, where Charles could sense several familiar mind signatures bustling anxiously. "The rest of them are anxiously awaiting to see if their oh-so-powerful leader is awake; are you ready?"
Charles laughed quietly, and nodded. He couldn't help but smile as Erik poked his head out of the door, saying something in a low voice before coming back inside and retreating back into the chair beside Charles's hospital bed. In a barrage of voices and more feminine shrieks, the entire mutant team burst into the room, Moira close behind.
The telepath noticed with a small pang of guilt that Raven had resorted to hiding her appearance once more, adopting her favorite blonde-haired appearance. He had been so cruel, to make a fuss about whether she looked "normal" in her blue skin or in her false appearances. Erik was right: she was beautiful because she was Raven, and the beauty was present in her blue form as prominently as it was in her blonde one. Raven caught Charles staring, because she immediately smiled wickedly, shifting back into her natural form.
"It's just to keep the nurses from asking questions. So you all better get used to this, cuz I don't plan to be "normal" unless necessary," she said loudly, and her golden eyes smiled at Charles happily.
Hank was wearing a thick leather jacket, hood up to cover his furry head, along with big gloves. He looked uncomfortable in the hospital room, and relaxed only slightly when Raven took his hand. Erik looked at the two with a strange expression, but the expression relaxed when Charles looked over at him inquisitively.
"Azazel and the wind-user disappeared after you fell unconscious, and that Angel girl is hoping to rejoin our ranks. I have her back at the facility, you can talk to her once you're able to leave the hospital," Erik murmured, and Charles nodded, pursing his lips as he mused over the new information.
Charles didn't really believe that Azazel and Riptide would be a real threat – their drive lay mostly with Shaw, and with their leader gone, there was nothing to stand on. They had no way of executing their plan with Shaw gone. He pushed aside the idea of Angel, too tired to contemplate her loyalty at present.
Alex and Sean stood on either side of Hank and Raven. Alex holding a cup of coffee, while Sean munched on a frosted cinnamon roll. Raven caught sight of the gooey treat, and her eyes narrowed in appreciation. Slyly, her hand reached over to snag a piece, but Sean was too quick for her.
"I waited thirty minutes in that stupid line at the café to get this, Raven! Get your own damn cinnamon roll!"
"Aw, c'mon!" Raven's tone was pleading, and Sean shook his head furiously. Raven paused for a moment, and then smirked mischeviously, and in a flurry, there was suddenly a beautiful brunette standing there. Stark naked.
Every male present chocked at the sight, and Raven took the few seconds in which Sean was stuck staring to snag a big piece of his pastry. After doing so, she reverted back into her blue form, happily digging into her prize, and Sean's yell of fury filled the room.
"H-Hey! No fair!"
Alex was blushing furiously, and Hank was rolling his eyes, trying not to laugh. Erik and Charles's eyes met, and Erik shrugged, grinning widely, while Charles ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly embarrassed at the actions of his foster sister.
Moira looked nervous and out of place, and Charles motioned for her to come closer. He knew that he had to do, but he knew that it wasn't something to do in front of the rest of the team. Erik seemed to sense his need for privacy, because he stood and demanded that the rest of the mutants get out. They complained, but consented after a few moments. Erik followed them out, closing the door behind him.
She was so beautiful, Charles mused. Sweet smile, shiny brown hair, tanned skin. Her hands were touching his arm as if afraid that she would break him, and he could tell from her thoughts – he wasn't reading them, but he could sense the tone of her overall mindset when physical contact was made – that she felt responsible for his injury. He shook his head, touching her hand with a smile.
"It isn't your fault."
Moira nodded, sinking into the chair beside his bed. "So what happens now?"
Charles sighed. "Well, using the program Hank invented, we'll begin tracking down mutants and bring them to our facility, where they will learn to control and properly harness their abilities. It will be a school of sorts. A school for the gifted."
"And what about Raven and the rest? They're not really students anymore, are they?"
"No…they'll be the teachers, I suppose. We'll always have things to learn, even after all this."
Moira laughed. "You and your 'X-Men'?" she teased, and Charles laughed with her as he slid both of his hands on top of hers. Her skin was warm and soft, and Charles regretted even more what he soon had to do.
"The main goal will to provide a place where mutants can be safe…where no one can find and hurt them for what they are," he said seriously, staring into her eyes. The intensity was drawing them closer, and her eyes closed as she whispered.
"I'll never tell, Charles."
"I know you wont," Charles murmured sadly as their lips met, and he let himself savor the warmth of her kiss for several timeless seconds before silently putting his free hand to his temple, focusing his power and delving into her memory.
It pained him, but he steeled himself, and wiped her mind clean of every single mutant-related incident that she had ever witnessed. He erased her memory of him, her mutual feelings of romantic attachment, and then moved on to the other mutants. She had never seen any of their faces, and if asked about mutant related incidents, she would only have glimpses of trees and of a deep blue sky.
As one act of selfishness, he left one piece of her memory of their time together intact.
A single, nameless kiss would be all she remembered of Charles Xavier.
Two full weeks passed before Charles was cleared from the hospital. After thanking his nurses and doctor, he was wheeled out of the hospital, where Erik and Raven were waiting with the car. There was a bit of an awkward moment when Charles tried to get into the car without assistance, but finally Erik and Raven understood, and they both supported him and helped him get into the backseat. The wheelchair was folded up and stuffed into the trunk.
The doctor assured the young man that with physical therapy, he would have full use of his legs within six months at the earliest. He was bound to the chair for the first four months, and the two remaining months would be spent undergoing weekly physical therapy as his muscles adjusted to walking after so long.
Charles leaned against the side of the door, sighing as the wind blew against his face as he watched the city pass them by. His house was deep into the countryside, far from civilization, a perfect location for a mutant facility. Students with loud or otherwise destructive powers could learn to control them without fear of attracting the attention of humans.
Raven was happily chatting away, and Charles made an effort to listen.
"You're gonna love it, Charles! Erik and Hank are thinking of expanding the house so they can put Cerebro underground, and build on the house so its big enough for more people. Alex has some ideas about a gym sort of thing so the kids can still play sports and be active, and Sean and me are already planning an outside training course so that they can practice abilities! And who knows, we'll probably have even more ideas as time goes on! Just yesterday-"
Charles smiled to himself, closing his eyes and listening to her ramble on as Erik turned up the music. The music – soft and lilting – clashed with Raven's fast and insistent speech, and Charles let the two meld together into a pleasant middle ground.
There would be time and opportunities to appreciate both, and that made Charles Xavier happier than anything.