Everything is Charles' Fault
Summary: Everything is Charles' fault. From his injury to the helmet and everything in between. It's all his fault. Erik's POV, EL/CX but sort of one-sided. Warning for spoilers and ANGST.
Author: Scarlet Rapsody
Beta: Bookspazz
Notes: You see that FFVII fic? Yeah consider it abandoned. Because I had no plot or anything really going for me with that. I'm sorta out of that fandom anyway, but X-men ate me. So here you go. Just in case this wasn't obvious, this has homosexual themes. Happy reading!
Erik's thoughts.
((Erik's memories.))
It was Charles' own fault that he couldn't walk anymore.
(("Erik," Raven-no, it was Mystique now- spoke quietly. She was the only mutant allowed to call him by his given name, though she rarely took the privilege. "The bullet paralyzed his lower body. He's in a wheelchair now."))
Really, it was. He had been in the way. It wouldn't have happened at all if he hadn't pushed me to the ground, tried to stop me from completing my mission. Tried to save all the stupid humans that were about to kill each other anyway, after they had destroyed us, of course.
((Charles in my arms, ohgodwhathaveIdone?, bleeding out on the sand, betrayal on his face. His fantastic/beautiful/breathtaking eyes speak of unimaginable pain. "This is your fault."))
No matter what Charles said, I was not the cause of his… disability. It was the FBI woman's fault; after all she had been the one holding the gun. But then again, that too was Charles' fault. He asked her if she wanted to come, and she immediately agreed. Of course. Because she was completely smitten with him, and allowed it to cloud her dull human judgment further. If Charles wasn't so charming/perfect/adorable, she wouldn't want to follow him into a fucking battleground that wasn't her business in the first place. It was Charles and I against the world, backed up by a few half-trained teenagers. A human like her had no place with us.
(("May I?" Charles asked, hand already half-way to his temple. I was afraid. Afraid of what Charles will see in my mind. Shaw, torture, the killings, oh god, the killings. Afraid of what Charles will think. I nod anyway, because deep down, I trust this man. Charles closes his amazing/perfect/wonderful eyes, and I can feel him in my mind. Speeding through memories so fast it makes me gasp. Then brightness. Candles. Hanukkah with my mother. I feel him watch it with me, like a film, but it's all around us. The memory fades, and Charles is gone from my mind. I'm alone again. But now, I don't want to be alone. For the first time in my life.
"I didn't know I still had that." There are tears on my face. I can't remember the last time I cried in front of someone else. I quickly wipe them away.
Charles smiles his heart-stopping/gorgeous/sad smile. He has tears on his face too. I have an urge to wipe the tears off his face with my thumb. I push it down with an effort.))
Everything is Charles' fault. The reason why we split. He couldn't see that humans will never change. If they can't even get over the prejudices in their own species, then how will they ever accept mutants like us as equals? The truth is that they won't. They will hunt us down until each and every one of us is gone. There are two choices: Run and hide for the rest of our lives, or show ourselves and destroy all that oppose us. Mutants are, after all, the next step in human evolution. Charles said that himself. We are the superior race. We shouldn't spend our lives in hiding. Mutants with abilities like Charles or mine can hide easily. But what about Azazel , Mystique and Beast? They can't hide their true selves, can't camouflage themselves. They should be free. Charles just can't see what I see. We want the same thing, but he can't understand how his way is so flawed.
((I had spent my whole life tracking down Shaw. There was no fucking way I was letting him get away now. I latched on to his submarine and desperately tried to lift it out of the water, but it was too heavy. It dragged me like I was attached to it with cables. Don'tyoufuckingdaregetawayfromme! I couldn't let go. It didn't matter that I was seeing black spots from lack of oxygen, he couldn't get away damnit! Someone was on my back, an arm around my neck, a face close to mine, a voice in my mind ohgodthatvoice saying "You can't! You'll drown! You have to let go. I know what this means to you, but you are going to die. Please, Erik. Calm your mind." And I let go.
I broke through the surface of the water, taking a huge breath of air. My lungs ached, what had I been thinking? The other person was still on my back, pinning my limbs , bringing unwanted memories to the surface of my mind. Off, I wanted them off. He let go almost immediately, treading water.
"We're here!" the man shouted, calling up to the giant ship.
"Who are you?" I asked, desperately keeping my head afloat. My mind was racing, despite his request.
"The name's Charles Xavier." I was vaguely surprised. I really wasn't expecting him to answer that.
"You were in my head," I stated, sort of in awe. "How did you do that?"
"You have your tricks, I have mine, I'm like you just Calm. Your mind!"
What? Like me? A freak of nature, created only to destroy? I doubted that he was such a monster. "I thought I was alone."
He smiled knowingly. "No, Erik, you're not alone."))
It's Charles' fault that I can't be just Erik anymore. I have to be Magneto. I have to be strong, I can't show sympathy. The Erik that he knew is gone. It disappeared/stayed with Charles on that day at the beach. This helmet and cape define me now. Memories of satellite dishes and menorah candles, moonlit rescues, early morning breakfasts of coffee and eggs before a run with my closest/best/only friend, and blown up mannequins are pushed far to the back of my mind. I can't dwell on the past.
I have a future to create.
As Magneto.
((I couldn't take the helmet off for any reason. Emma's abilities worried me. But I was more worried about Charles reaching me, even though Cerebro had been destroyed. I doubt he knew what power he held over me. It was almost embarrassing what a few words from the incredible/comforting/amazing mind of Charles Xavier could do to me. It was few months after the Beach, when I finally took off the helmet for one night.
I didn't feel Charles' mind against mine.
And for some reason, that hurt me more than anything.))