A/N: Thanks to Har33m and Missy the Least for beta-ing! Without them this story would have made no sense whatsoever. Har33m, the inclusion of Wolverine's XFC cameo is for you :-)
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, yada yada yada…
Logan shifts in his seat. In spite of the cushy armchair he's currently perched on, he feels uncomfortable, awkward. The silence in the Professor's study -no, it's Storm's study now, he reminds himself- seems endless. It's not that Logan particularly enjoys noise and crowds. On the contrary, he finds his own company perfectly agreeable; his solitary life before joining the X-Men is testament to that. Today, however, there is an almost tangible sense of icy unease pervading the silence between him and Ororo, broken only by the soft rustling of the sheets of paper they are scrutinizing.
Of course, Logan knows the reason for Ororo's discomfiture. Going through other people's belongings isn't a task she would enjoy at the best of times; she's far too conscientious for that. However, recent unfortunate events have gifted her with the monumental task of clearing out Professor Xavier's, Scott's and Jean's remaining personal belongings, which is what brings her and Logan here, to the Professor's cluttered study, on yet another lovely Saturday afternoon.
Logan is doing his best to assist, but it seems he's less than qualified for the job. His only contribution so far has been to lift heavy objects and fill the room with a thick cloud of cigar smoke. Despite the fact that smoking indoors is a strict no-no, Ororo's glare towards him is only halfhearted, which in itself is enough to get Logan worried.
"You alright?" he asks a little gruffly.
"Of course I am all right!" Ororo snaps. "I just have more important things to think about than your steady descent towards lung cancer, that's all!"
Logan can't help grinning although he knows it will just provoke her. He hasn't seen this fiery side of her for some time, and he's missed it. Sure enough, she scowls at him. "Stop smirking and start making yourself useful, Logan! You can start by helping me carry this."
"Alright, alright, calm down," says Logan, getting to his feet. He crosses the room in a couple of strides and, relieving her of a tall stack of papers, places them on the Professor's desk nearby. As he turns back to help her, his sleeve catches on the edge of the stack and pulls it, causing the entire pile to scatter all across the plush Oriental carpet flooring. "Dammit!"
He gets down on his hands and knees and sets about retrieving the documents. Some have disappeared under the couch, and he spies a couple under the Professor's desk itself. As he crawls under the desk to get them, a flash of something in his peripheral vision catches his attention. He squints at it. It turns out only to be a clear plastic folder taped to the underside of the desk, the gleam of the plastic against the dark wood being the reason it caught his eye. Curious, he squirms in closer within the tight space. Twisting his body, he reaches towards the folder and attempts to pry it open. He succeeds after a few fiddly moments, easily drawing out a single sheet. He scoots out from underneath the table and dusts himself off before holding it up to the light for a better look.
Only to nearly drop the photograph, which is what it turns out to be. It's a black-and-white shot of a young man, his long lean body stretched out on a cheap-looking bed in a dingy room, probably a motel room of some sort. His dark hair is tightly slicked back into an immaculate style, one that's strangely at odds with his casual attitude, lying on his side with his head propped on one arm. He's laughing into the camera, revealing two rows of perfect, white teeth.
He's also completely naked.
"Fuck!" yelps Logan, flipping the photo over at once. On the back of the photo there's a short message written in a red felt-tip pen. "To Charles, you will always belong to me, as I will to you. Love, Erik. June 1962."
He shakes his head in disbelief. "Bloody hell, I did not sign up for this."
"What's the matter?" asks Ororo, coming over to him. "Is everything okay?"
He waves the photograph in her face, then, flipping it over, points out the message at the back. She pales, instinctively reaching out to grasp the desk for support. "What- what is that? Where did you get that?"
Logan explains briefly, but she only looks more confused. "This was taped under the Professor's desk? It belonged to him?"
"Yeah," Logan confirms. "Looks like the Professor's a f-" Ororo's glare cuts him off, and he corrects himself at once. "Sorry. I meant, so it looks like the Professor is gay." That explains a lot, he supposes. The lack of women in the Professor's life, his apparent celibacy, his devotion to the school and the mutant cause… Now that he thinks about it, it sure as hell makes sense. But why would the Professor want to hide something like this from them? And who is this Erik guy, anyway? He says as much to Ororo, who looks equally bewildered.
"I don't know, Logan," she admits. "I've never heard of anyone named Erik, but he must have meant something to the Professor if he was still keeping his photograph close by after all this time. Maybe we'll find a clue in some of these old letters once we go through them."
They spend the rest of the day poring over the Professor's old correspondence, grabbing only sandwiches for dinner. However, their efforts are futile. The relatively few letters that are not written on the topics of mutant politics or the school's affairs all speak of everyday trivialities. Some of these make Logan and Ororo laugh, especially a large collection of yellowing letters all directed to a young Charles, which include headings such as "Dear Charles", "My dearest brother" and "You overbearing, self-satisfied prig!" These are written in a hand that develops throughout the years from rounded, childish writing to graceful, feminine script, and the Professor has tied them together with a bright blue ribbon. It throws Ororo a little to realize that the Professor had a sister, though. Yet another aspect of his personal life that she knows absolutely nothing about. Just how many more secrets did the Professor have?
When the old grandfather clock in the hallway strikes eleven, they decide to call it a night, albeit reluctantly. Neither of them is fond of nighttime now; sleep is difficult to come by for all the survivors of Alcatraz. Bobby is one of the hardest hit, going to Marie's room every night now just for the comfort of human company. He cannot bear to stay in his room and see John's empty bunk, a constant reminder of what he has lost and cursing him for everything he has done. None of the X-Men know yet whether John is still alive, though Dr McCoy is working on it. Logan feels sorry for the kid but he doesn't know how to help him. Discussing feelings just isn't his thing, whether they're his own or anyone else's, so he leaves it all to Storm.
At two in the morning, Logan is still tossing and turning in his bed. He hates this time of night, when ghosts and haunting images steal into the house and into their minds, filling them with awful suggestions and phantom terror. It is always at this hour that he sees Jean, as warm and beautiful as when he first met her, then swiftly morphing into the striking but terrible beauty of the Phoenix. The Phoenix- her obsidian eyes following him at every turn, thirsting for vengeance, wanting nothing more than to destroy them all. But just when he can't take it anymore and is about to scream out, she morphs back into Jean, her smile one of relief as she falls back into the oblivion of death. It is always at this point that he wakes up in a clammy sweat, shivering. He knows he did the right thing, in fact the only thing he could, but when he silently sneaks out through the shadowy hallways to Jean's room, only to find it deserted and Jean gone, he can't help railing at the injustice of it all.
Ororo finds him there, just standing in the empty room, looking at the untouched belongings. Dust is gathering on the surfaces; they haven't had the time to clear anything yet, and although neither of them says so out loud, they both know they would rather avoid it as long as possible.
He hears her entering, but as he recognizes her scent, he does not speak. It is a long-since familiar routine, a tightly choreographed dance to which they both know the steps. He stays where he is, looking at Jean and Scott's wedding photograph on the dresser; she comes to him, wrapping her arms around his torso from behind, resting her head against his shoulder. He lifts a hand and places it over hers, acknowledging her presence, and they stay as they are.
Eventually the clock strikes three, rousing them from their dreamlike state. Usually it is their signal to go to the kitchen for a hot drink, then return to their separate rooms to catch what sleep they still can before classes start. Today, however, is Sunday morning, and Ororo has a new suggestion. The photograph from earlier is still niggling in her brain. The young man's face is vaguely familiar, and she feels that Erik may be someone they know, but she can't place it. "We should search through the Professor's old photo albums," she tells Logan, who nods.
There are surprisingly few photograph albums in the Professor's study. They consider the possibility that they may be more in his room but leave that hanging; like Jean and Scott's quarters, that's a place they don't want to tackle just yet. Instead they just search through whatever they can find, which isn't much. Most are recent photographs of the X-Men themselves, the other students and their families, and outside friends such as Dr McCoy. As Logan shifts the last of the expensive, leather-bound albums off the built-in oak shelf, he notices an old, stained cardboard box that has previously been hidden by the books. It doesn't appear to be particularly valuable, resembling an old shoebox more than anything else. All the same he reaches for it, drawing it out carefully and laying it on the Professor's desk. He lifts the lid gingerly, a little afraid that the old cardboard or its contents may crumble into dust.
Inside the box is the strangest collection of items. On top is a tattered, filthy yellow suit which, after he spreads it out on the floor and can see it clearly, Logan decides is one of the most hideous outfits he's ever seen, worse even than the X-Men's black leather suits. Underneath that is a dog tag, not unlike Logan's own, except that this tag is edged with black and the name's been scratched out. Beside the tag is a single chess piece, a black king. There are several other objects, all of which seem completely random to Logan, but before he notices anything else in particular, he's distracted by a small, jewel-encrusted book within the box that looks suspiciously like a diary, or perhaps an album.
He pulls out the book and opens it. It is completely filled with old photographs and handwriting. Almost immediately, he spots the naked man from the photograph. In this shot, however, he is fully clothed in a long-sleeved turtleneck, sitting in an armchair in the very study Logan himself is in at the moment. "Erik Lehnsherr," reads the handwritten caption.
"I think I've found him!" he calls to Ororo, who joins him at once. They thumb through the next few pages slowly, enjoying the occasional glimpses of the young Professor with a full head of wavy brown hair, standing with various people. On some pages, the Professor has written very long notes in the margins, talking about the day the photograph was taken, so that the album also acts as a journal of sorts. A photograph of a whole group of people carrying axes and saws, surrounding a burnt tree, "The time we had a picnic in the grounds. Alex got into a fight with Sean and ended up torching the old oak. Quite a loss, but he felt so badly already that I didn't like to punish him, so we ended up chopping what we could for firewood." A photograph of Charles, Erik and a sexy brunette at a bar, "The day Erik and I found Angel. We asked her to join us in a private room. She certainly was surprised when Erik showed her his powers; she'd thought that we intended to proposition her!"
"At least we know now that Erik is also a mutant," Ororo muses. "It would have helped if the Professor stated what exactly his powers were, though!"
"He may say so somewhere else if we keep reading," Logan reassures her.
Halfway through the album, they find a rectangular-shaped blank space which looks like it would have been a perfect fit for the photograph under the Professor's desk. In the margins, the Professor has written, "Erik, at the motel where we first consummated our relationship. It's quite peculiar how it happened. This was just another stop on our recruiting trip, to find a mutant who it seems can shoot metal spikes out of his fingers. He was positively rude to us, telling us to "Go fuck yourselves". For that I am eternally indebted to him, because his rudeness prompted us to give up work for the day and go to another bar, where we ended up having quite a bit to drink. It was after that, when we finally returned to the motel, that we discovered we prefer making love to each other than to ourselves."
Ororo looks up at him, startled. "A mutant that can shoot metal spikes out of his fingers... Logan, is it possible…?"
Almost instinctively, Logan's claws shoot out, nearly ripping the album. He would have done so if not for Ororo yanking it out of the way, exclaiming, "Be careful!"
He mutters a brief apology, but it's only half-hearted. His mind is distracted, still whirring with possibilities, trying to calculate the likelihood of this being a coincidence. He grunts in frustration.
"I don't know," he finally grinds out. So much of his past is still a murky haze to him. He can't remember meeting the Professor before coming to the mansion. Then again, he can't even recall his birth name, so who's to say he hasn't met him and just forgotten completely? The thought, as well as the holes in his memory, trouble him though he tries to make light of it. "It sounds like something I would say, don't you think?"
Ororo doesn't laugh. Her eyes are watching him in concern. She seems to understand how he feels without him needing even to speak. "It may have been another mutant with a similar ability," she tries to comfort him. "Don't you remember that mutant we met, Deathstrike? She had retractable claws as well."
He nods, grateful for her words but unwilling to discuss the issue any further. It's something to think about another day, not now. "Let's get on with the album," he says abruptly.
There is no chronological sequence to the photographs whatsoever; the Professor appears to have just pasted them into the album at random. On one page there is a photograph of a tall, slim black man, captioned "Darwin, may he rest in peace," but several pages later the same man is shown smiling in a group of people. In this photo, the group is assembled on and around a couch, in a room with white walls. The handwritten entry here is particularly long. "Our team, assembled for the first time at CIA headquarters. The children positively destroyed the place that day, what with Alex, Sean and Angel all showing off their powers! When Erik and I returned, it seemed as though half the building and yard were gone. Erik was so disappointed by their immaturity, he was ready to throw them all out, but they sidetracked him with some new nicknames they'd invented for all of us. Mine is Professor X, but I seem to be an odd man out as everyone else's nickname is based on their mutant ability. Alex is Havok, courtesy of the destructive potential of his plasma beams, while Sean is Banshee because his power all resides in his voice. Angel chose to keep her stage name as it is reasonably fitting. Erik told her she should call herself Dragon because her wings are like a dragonfly's more than an angel's, and she spits acid, but she was not at all inclined towards that name as she felt it was too masculine. Erik himself, because his power is based on controlling magnetic fields, has been christened Magneto."
There is more written after that, but that last sentence has captured Logan and Ororo's attention. A moment of dazed disbelief, then-
"What the fuck!" Logan shouts. Everything clicks into place with an awful certainty. "No,' he snarls, jumping to his feet and pacing the floor. "The Professor would never be with that- that murderer! There's got to be another explanation! Maybe this is a different Erik." He's clutching at straws now and he knows it, but he just can't accept that the Professor, one of the best men he knows, is secretly in love with Magneto of all people. It's fine if he was gay, but why couldn't he have been gay with someone else? Anyone else would do. Hell, Logan himself would volunteer at this point. Maybe. Oh alright, maybe not, but still. Anyone else!
Ororo is no help, her face a picture of incredulity as she repeats the words in a stupefied mantra. "Erik is Magneto. Erik is Magneto. Erik and Magneto are the same person. The Professor is in love with Magneto. Oh God, oh God…"
Outside, it has been steadily getting lighter as dawn comes on. At this precise moment, however, the sky begins to darken, almost as though the cycles of day and night have been reversed. When Logan looks towards the window, he realizes that the gloom is in fact caused by the masses of storm clouds gathering just outside. Even as he watches, flashes of lightning illuminate the room, followed by the roll of thunder as rain begins to patter onto the lawn. "Storm!" he yells. "Snap out of it!"
Her eyes come back into focus. She blinks, and Logan can see her struggling to regain a semblance of her usual calm control. The thunder and rain stop immediately, followed by the clouds beginning to clear. "I think- well, perhaps we should cross-check the Erik in the album with the photo we found this afternoon, just to confirm. Logan, could you please get the photo and take a look?"
Yeah, sure. That's what he's always wanted to do, gawk at a photograph of a naked Magneto. Ororo looks as if she's about to freak out, though, so despite himself he complies. A single quick glance removes any lingering, hopeful doubts he may have had. The strong, square jaw, the deep-set eyes, the high nose… they all look hauntingly familiar. Defeated, Logan drops back into his chair.
"What now?" he asks glumly. There is no running away from the fact. Professor Charles Xavier, lifelong proponent of peaceful coexistence between mutants and humans, had at some point in his life been in love with Magneto, a mutant whose sole purpose in life seems to be to engender mutant-human conflict.
"Do you think they were only together at the time the photographs were taken? Or have they been together ever since?"
Logan shakes his head. "Hang on a second. You're suggesting the Professor and Magneto have been carrying on this whole time. That's like, what, fifty years? And all the while they've been fighting on opposing sides? Am I the only one who finds that completely nuts?"
"I don't know. Let's try to think about it logically. If they've been together since then, they must have stayed in contact. They hardly saw each other, we know that much. So they must have been writing letters or talking on the phone, maybe even texting, or chatting online."
Logan frowns, considering. "We can't get at his phone; it's been destroyed. And we've already read through all the letters in this room. How about we try searching the Professor's computer for his Internet chat history?"
Ororo looks taken aback. "That's actually a good idea, Logan!"
"Don't sound so surprised. It's insulting."
She laughs. It's the first time he's heard her laugh in a long time, and somehow the sound of it makes him feel better as well. He doesn't have enough time to consider the reasons for this, however, as they've switched on the Professor's computer and started carrying out a search.
They easily manage to locate and access the chat logs. These are organized on a month-by-month basis, going from the most recent to the oldest. As Logan scrolls down the list, debating which month to start on, he notices a folder titled not with the date, but with the words "Favourite Conversations". Jackpot, he thinks, opening the folder and clicking randomly on a file.
Window opened on 11.01.2005, 21:13:03
MagnetoRulez: Hello, you.
ProfXOXO: Evening, love. Where are you tonight?
MagnetoRulez: You know I can't tell you that. But I can tell you that your hair colour and my pillow are perfectly colour-coordinated.
ProfXOXO: Is that so? Perhaps you'd like to tell me more about what exactly you would do to me if I was lying on that pillow right now.
Logan doesn't wait to read more. Shuddering, he hits the 'Back' key at once then immediately clicks on the next file.
Window opened on 18.12.2004, 18:35:08
MagnetoRulez: Guess what, Charles? I'm going to have sex tonight!
ProfXOXO: You are? Who with? Please don't tell me you're going to a brothel, I know we agreed we could if we wanted to, but they're filled with horrendous diseases! Has anyone ever taught you about sexually transmitted infections? I'm not just talking about mild illnesses either; some of these diseases have very dire prognoses!
MagnetoRulez: Charles, quit blabbering. I am a grown man, for heaven's sake. I know perfectly well what STIs are.
ProfXOXO: Oh. Right. Sorry.
MagnetoRulez: That's all right. Now, as to whom I'll be making love to tonight, that depends. What are you doing around 1am?
ProfXOXO: ?
MagnetoRulez: Did I forget to mention that Azazel's here on a little visit?
"Next," grumbles Logan, hitting the keys furiously as he speaks. "Seriously, what is with these two? Horny oversexed old bastards…"
"I think it's sweet," protests Ororo. "They seem to be the quintessential long-distance couple."
Logan glares at her. "You read the next one if you're enjoying it so much!"
"Fine, I will, you immature idiot!"
Window opened on 26.07.2004, 22:05:17
ProfXOXO: Erik, I have a question for you.
MagnetoRulez: What? Not even a hello? This must be important. Very well, what is it?
ProfXOXO: Have you ever thought about kids? You know, young children. In general, I mean.
MagnetoRulez: Certainly. I run screaming at the sight of the little brats.
ProfXOXO: I'm being serious.
MagnetoRulez: So am I.
ProfXOXO: Erik…
MagnetoRulez: Oh, fine then, no I haven't. Happy?
ProfXOXO: Do you ever feel like you're missing out, not having any of your own?
MagnetoRulez: Not particularly. I have loftier ambitions than filling this already overpopulated planet with my progeny. Besides, if they were humans instead of mutants I'd be hard put not to look like a hypocrite in front of my Brotherhood. May I ask what brought this on?
ProfXOXO: It just hit me the other day that I'll never produce any offspring, at least not with you.
MagnetoRulez: … Are you trying to tell me something here, Charles? You know, if you'd stayed with Moira instead of marrying me, you'd probably have half a dozen grandchildren by now.
ProfXOXO: Don't be ridiculous, Erik. No, I just thought it was ironic that my house is filled with children but I have none of my own.
MagnetoRulez: I'm afraid I can't give you children, Charles. Not unless it turns out that one of us has a secondary mutation that allows for homosexual procreation.
ProfXOXO: Ha. You wish. Besides, I never said outright that I wanted children with you, did I?
MagnetoRulez. Dammit. Well, if you don't want to have children with me, maybe we could just practice…
"They actually got married?" asks Ororo, dumbfounded. "How could they have done? When?"
"Keep looking," Logan advises her. The next few conversations yield nothing of interest besides more euphemisms for sex, but then they hit upon the one.
Window opened on 31.05.2004, 11:37:42
ProfXOXO: I can't believe we managed it, Erik. We're married. We're legally bonded. We're united in the eyes of the law. We're partnered.
MagnetoRulez: I love you too, you sappy walking thesaurus.
ProfXOXO: I never thought homosexual marriage would be legalized, but here we are, married! 17th May 2004, the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts makes a historical ruling, one that will define modern society. You know, Erik, the advancement society has undergone is truly astounding.
MagnetoRulez: You're not looking to break your marriage vows already, are you, Charles? Remember, we pledged that we would never discuss mutant-human issues or let them affect our relationship in any way.
ProfXOXO: Of course I remember. I could hear the priest's thoughts. He found it very odd but assumed we were a slightly eccentric couple. Well, he would have done that anyway, with that tacky cape you insisted on wearing.
MagnetoRulez: I deem the discussion of my cape's stylishness a mutant-human issue.
ProfXOXO: You big baby. Fine, then. Before we go on, though, I want to make one thing clear. Our relationship does not change our beliefs, nor will it affect what we do in the course of following those beliefs. No matter what the situation between us, I will never let you harm any of my students, or any human if I can help it, as long as it is in my power to stop you. Nor will I hold back if I see a means of achieving the X-Men's goals, even if it means thwarting your plans.
MagnetoRulez: I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Charles.
ProfXOXO: Marvellous.
ProfXOXO: …
MagnetoRulez: What's the matter?
ProfXOXO: I'm just wondering how the X-Men will take this.
MagnetoRulez: Don't tell them. It's no one's business but ours.
ProfXOXO: They're my family, Erik. I want to share this with them if I possibly can, but I don't know if they will be able to accept it. They may never forgive me.
MagnetoRulez: Frankly, Charles, I agree that their understanding is somewhat limited. Particularly that clawed beast you keep around.
ProfXOXO: I would thank you to stay out of this, Erik. This is a delicate enough situation without you sticking your oar in.
MagnetoRulez: Surely you agree that as the cause of this uproar, I have every right to say a few words in my defense? Anyway, as I was saying, I believe that they are a group of extraordinarily intolerant and biased individuals.
ProfXOXO: Erik! That is no help at all! If they ever chance to see this… And besides, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?
MagnetoRulez: Vows, Charles! Oh just relax, will you? Why would they want to read your chat logs? If they do, though, I'd just like to point out that it's Magneto to them! In fact, I'll leave a whole message to them here. My dear X-Men, Charles seems to think you will never understand nor forgive him for this betrayal. Personally, I believe that your narrow-mindedness and bigotry will exceed any affection you may have for Charles himself. If you don't agree, go ahead. Prove me wrong. Yours with no love whatsoever, Magneto.
ProfXOXO: You are useless.
MagnetoRulez: Really? You didn't seem to think so on our wedding night.
ProfXOXO: That's quite enough, Erik! Thank God they never will see this.
MagnetoRulez: Yeah, whatever.
MagnetoRulez: Charles?
ProfXOXO: Yes?
MagnetoRulez: I love you. I hope you realize that. I always have and always will, no matter what happens.
ProfXOXO: No matter what the future holds, I have always been and will always be yours, Erik.
'That's the end,' says Ororo, her voice wavering. Logan feels sorry for her; clearly she's just experienced a life-changing event. It shocked him at first too, if he's honest with himself, but he's seen so many strange things in his life that these things don't hit him as hard anymore. He looks at Magneto's message again, his eyes narrowing at the unmistakable challenge.
'What do you think we should do?' he asks. Should they tell the younger X-Men? Perhaps not, surely it's not necessary and they might find it hard to accept, young as they are. Heck, can he and Ororo even accept it themselves? He looks at her, and as their eyes meet in silent understanding, they find that they already have the answers they need.
After all, when have they ever backed down in the face of a challenge from Magneto?
A/n: Wow… my first time writing non-XMen First Class characters! So, what did you guys think? :)