Trade Mistakes

...

"Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real."

– Dr. Hannibal Lecter, The Red Dragon.

...

Whatever Erik felt, Charles felt it too. Of course, one would think it was due to the telepath's outstanding communicative abilities – but there was much more than that between the two mutants. Charles could feel everything Erik felt because the connection between them was further than any other he had ever experienced. Erik had been scarred, and Charles had been the first person to ever care about him without any purpose other than to support him.

The first time he accessed Erik's memory – with his mutant friend's permission, of course – he had seen something that made him feel both sad and angered. Sad because he had only realized how much his friend had lost over his childhood, and angered because he somehow wanted to make up for it but didn't know how. Only when he opened his eyes he realized that a tear had rolled down his cheek, but what he hadn't noticed was that Erik had cried too. He brushed the tear away after taking a deep breath – unlike his friend, he was not scared of showing his emotions. He had placed a hand on Erik's shoulder ever so gently, rubbing his back comfortingly. And all was well.

Now, however, he didn't know what wasn't well. He had promised to never rummage into Erik's head with his telepathic abilities, but for the first time ever he couldn't tell what was going on inside the mutant's complicated head. He felt how Erik rolled on the bed for the billionth time that night, unable to sleep. All it would take to soothe him down and make him sleep was a gentle touch to Charles's temple – but he couldn't do it. Not to Erik.

Around three in the morning, he decided he had to do something about it. He propped himself up on his elbows to see Erik staring at the number inked to his forearm – 214782. Charles knew about Erik's past – he knew that his friend had been torn away from his parents, pulled into becoming a lab rat by Sebastian Shaw and forced to watch how his mother died for something he still blamed himself for. Erik thought he had become a monster during his time at Auschwitz, but the truth was far from that – of course, he had not become a monster, he had simply been scarred. He had lost all hopes, and all he sought in life now was revenge.

Charles silently wondered how could he approach him to tell him everything would be all right.

He gently rubbed his hand against Erik's arm. The other mutant hardly stirred from his place in bed and simply coughed quietly. Charles, insisting just a little bit more, leaned closer to him and placed a loose arm over Erik's waist.

"What do you want, Charles?" groaned the other man with a hoarse voice.

"I just wanted to know – " he started, but interrupted himself upon hearing Erik's tone. He then tugged on his ribs and tried to make Erik look at him. "Erik, what's wrong? Are you crying?"

The older man turned around. Indeed, his eyes were quite red – but there were no tears on his face. Of course, Erik would never cry in front of someone else. But then again, Charles wasn't someone else. He didn't know what they were, but at least he knew that the man lying next to him was nothing like anyone he had ever met before. He took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Have you ever wondered how your life would have been if you were . . . normal?" he asked quietly.

"You're always the first one to say human life would be far too boring," chuckled Charles softly. "Why'd you say that?"

"Because if I were normal perhaps my mother wouldn't have been murdered," Erik spat. "Because if I were normal I wouldn't have been turned into the bloody monster I am today." He closed his eyes as he placed his forearm against his bare chest. The number was now right on top of his heart. "The moment Shaw took me into his office I stopped being Erik Lehnsherr. I became a monster. An animal."

"God, Erik," said Charles. His brow furrowed when he saw how the other man slowly hitting his knuckles against his forehead, his jaw tightening and his expression depicting sheer anger. Charles placed his fingers around Erik's forearm, sighing quietly. "You're not an animal. You think you are, but you aren't. You're just someone who's been deeply scarred – and you needn't be a telepath to know that."

"Scars get gangrenous," groaned Erik quietly.

"No. Scars only get gangrenous if you don't heal them." Charles slowly brushed his fingers against the number inked onto Erik's forearm and then brought his lips to it, kissing the number ever so tenderly. "Scars heal. Wounds heal. They will always be there, but they needn't hurt, Erik. They really don't."

Erik closed his eyes for a moment and finally did a quiet nod. It was small, almost indistinguishable. But it was enough for Charles. Of course, he knew that Erik would not rest until he killed Sebastian Shaw, until the nazi fulfilled what Erik called his redemption with his own death. He knew that he couldn't insist, but he also knew quite well that he would never, ever leave his side. Or at least, he would try not to – He would stay by Erik's side as long as he could stand on his two feet, he promised to himself.

"Now get some sleep," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss onto Erik's neck. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"As every other," chuckled Erik. He rolled on his back, burying his face into the pillow. Despite the fact that he couldn't see his face, Charles knew that the other mutant was hiding a small smile. "G'night, Charles."

"Good night, Erik."

And so the scars seemed to close. At least for that night.

...

This fanfic was heavily inspired by the song "Trade Mistakes" by Panic! At The Disco and the quote at the beginning of the chapter. Hope you enjoyed it, please review.

-cluelessclown.