Hello all! Welcome to my first X-Men story. I was inspired to write this after seeing First Class for the first time. The relationship between Erik and Charles was so interesting to me and I wanted to explore that relationship. So I created this rather angsty alternate ending.

I hope you read, enjoy, and review. I appreciate any and all constructive criticism.

Thanks,

Grey

As gunshots and explosions rang around them, the only sound Erik could hear was a scream. A scream of pure, unadulterated agony.

His eyes lit with terror as he turned to see Charles, his best friend in the world, his brother, straining upward against the bullet tearing into his chest. His breath stopping in his lungs, he sprinted to him and dropped to his knees, catching the smaller man in his arms and pulling him onto his lap.

"No," he hissed, tears pricking at his eyes as he watched warm blood gush out of the wound and onto the white sand.

He held his hand over the hole, trying to pull the metal out, to do anything to save him. Charles screamed, his back arching in pain and his eyes rolling back into his head. Erik dropped his hand to the younger man's chest, pressing the wound closed, willing it to close.

"Charles, Charles," he stuttered. "I'm sorry."

He couldn't lose him too. Not like this. Not now.

He looked up, searching for the source of the bullet. His eyes narrowed when he saw that woman, that human, standing there with her gun pointed at them, her eyes widened in shock. Well, he thought, he would make them bulged even more.

"You," he growled, his eyes focusing on the metal wrapped around her neck, "you did this."

He pulled her dog tags tight around her neck, so tight that she was pulled up on her tiptoes. He watched in sick satisfaction as she gasped for air, the blood draining from her face. If she were to take the only person he still cared about, he would end her.

"Erik," Charles coughed, blood filling his mouth, "Erik, don't hurt her."

Erik looked down into his glossy blue eyes, disbelief playing over his face. "But she did this. She's killed you."

"No, my friend," he wheezed, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and dropping onto the arm supporting his head, "no, Erik, you did this. You've killed me."

The roaring in Erik's ears intensified as he dropped the woman, her unconscious form falling in a heap. He squeezed his eyes shut, just as he had in the camps, to block out the horror around him. But just like then, the horror wouldn't stop.

The pain was slowly leaving Charles' chest and numbness was taking over. His heart was already growing sluggish. He knew that in a matter of moments, his life would trickle away from him. And with it, all of his dreams of peace. But he was resigned to that. His dreams meant little.

Looking up at the tortured man who held him, though, he realized just what his death meant. And what he wasn't resigned to. Seeing those clear blue eyes that used to be so hard now filled with tears, he wasn't resigned to leaving Erik. He wasn't resigned to leaving his brother.

His breath hitched in his throat as another wave of searing pain coursed through him, leaving his face even paler. He may not be resigned to it, but Charles knew, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that his death was coming. No matter how he struggled, death would win.

Realizing this, he wanted nothing more than to spend his last moments with those he loved. He tried to control the fluttering of his eyes long enough to fix his gaze on Raven, who stood a few feet off, her hands clasped over her mouth to silence her sobs.

"Ra—Raven," he breathed. She began to run to him, her tears flowing freely.

"No, get back!" Erik roared, sending her flying back.

"Erik, stop," Charles tried to say firmly, but his voice faltered. "I need to see Raven."

She quickly found her way to him, dropping to her knees and clasping one of his hands in hers. "No, Charles, you can't die!" she cried, before pressing a kiss to his palm. "You can't leave me."

"You'll be fine, darling," he whispered, finding he could no longer speak any louder. "You are stronger than you know."

"No, no, Charles, you can't!"

He lifted his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "You've always been beautiful, especially like this. Don't ever think any differently. Remember, mutant and proud."

Raven let out a breathy laugh. "Right, mutant and proud."

"I love you, Raven."

"I love you, Charles," she sobbed, leaning down to kiss him lightly on the forehead.

Charles turned his attention back to Erik, who was still looking down at him with broken eyes, silent tears dripping down his cheeks. He opened his mouth to talk, drew in a shaky breath, but a violent cough wracked his body. Blood sprayed from his mouth, spattering over Erik's face. Erik startled at this, lifting a hand up to touch to warm, crimson liquid on his cheek.

He allowed sobs to take over his body then, as he finally felt the full weight of what he had done. He doubled over, drawing Charles closer to him, shaking with the force of his anguish. "I'm so sorry," he breathed into the younger man's ear.

Charles lifted his hand up, as if to touch Erik's face, but instead he tried to grip the helmet. Erik's hand shot up to grab his wrist, caution returning to his eyes.

"Please," Charles gasped, before another cough overtook him, adding another fine red mist to the air.

Watching his brother struggle to breathe below him, Erik knew what he was asking. One final connection. One final silent conversation since he no longer had the strength to speak.

Careful with how his movements shifted Charles, Erik removed the helmet, throwing it down on the sand next to him.

"Erik," Charles' voice whispered over his mind.

"Charles," Erik struggled to reply.

"I'm sorry, Erik."

Erik looked down at Charles in disbelief. "What?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you more. Couldn't help you find peace."

"You did help me, Charles. You saved me. You made me realize I wasn't alone. You gave me something to live for."

"But you still killed Shaw. And you were going to kill the humans, Moira."

"There are some things even you can't change, Charles."

"I suppose you're right."

Erik watched Charles' eyes flutter and gripped him closer, not willing to let him go yet. "Charles!" He yelled inwardly, trying to keep the young man with him.

"Promise—" Charles began, but even his brain was beginning to falter. "Promise me you will take care of them. Take care of Raven."

"I will, I promise."

"Make our school, Erik. Help other mutants. Show others they're not alone either."

Erik could only nod; he didn't trust his voice now, even the one in his head.

"Erik," Charles used the last of his strength to reach his hand up to the older mutant's cheek. "Will you make me one last promise?"

"Anything," Erik answered, covering Charles' hand with his own.

"Try to find peace, Erik. Try to find peace for the both of us."

Erik squeezed his eyes shut at those words, more tears spilling forth.

"Promise me, Erik. Promise me you will find peace."

"I promise."

That was the last thing Charles needed to hear before he would allow the last of his strength to leave him. His hand fell away from Erik's face, landing with a thud on the sand. His head lolled to the side, his breathing slowed.

Erik watched in horror as the light drained from the face of the man he loved more than he thought was possible. "No, Charles," he screamed, "no, you can't leave me!" The island reverberated with his cries.

"You—won't—be—alone, Erik," Charles barely managed to whisper in his mind. It sounded to Erik like he was already miles away.

"Please," Erik sobbed. "Please, don't leave me."

"I—love you, my brother."

With that final brushing of his mind, Charles' body went limp in Erik's arms.

Erik stared down in disbelief, praying, pleading, that Charles would wake up. That he could take it all back.

But Charles wasn't coming back.

With that crushing realization, Erik howled in grief. He clutched at the limp, lifeless body of his friend, pulling him as close as possible.

The weight of his guilt crashed over Erik soon after the first wave of grief. This was his fault. Charles had even said so. If he hadn't been so blinded by his hatred, so opposed to any suggestion of peace Charles made, he would not be holding the body of the man he loved. They would be together, perhaps recruiting more mutants. Or back at the school, enjoying a glass of scotch and a game of chess.

Never again. And it was all his fault.

Erik hated himself. Hated his willingness to sacrifice Charles to reach his self-serving goal. He still felt justified in killing Shaw, but now he knew it wasn't worth the price he'd had to pay. It had cost him his sanity and his savior, the only person left in the world he cared about. Now, he wondered if anything would keep him from drowning in the sea of his pain and rage.

A blood-splattered beach in Cuba was the last place that he expected memories of his mother's nightly readings from the Torah to resurface. But kneeling there, with Charles' blood on his hands, all he could think of was the story of Cain and Abel. Two brothers, one good, one evil. The good brother dies at the hands of the evil brother.

He couldn't help but be struck by the similarities as he cried over Charles' body.

They were best friends.

They were brothers.

They were Cain and Abel.

And looking into Charles' lifeless eyes, Erik knew that, just like Cain, he would burn for all eternity.