Chapter 1

"Mutant freak!"

Those were the words that Charles heard as he was unceremoniously thrown down the nearest staircase at his school and was sent sprawling. He collided with the stone stairs, and felt his left wrist snap on impact. He screamed out in pain, which only excited more laughter from his bullies. He didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as his head struck the next step. Everything blurred for the continuation of his fall, and he tasted blood in his mouth. The metallic taste in his mouth was incredibly unpleasant, but he chose to focus on that rather than the pain in his arm. He noticed that his wheelchair that he had been pushed down in was overturned and quite far from him. He wouldn't be able to right it with his broken arm and other injuries.
He didn't really have time to dwell on this issue, however, as one of his three bullies picked him up by the front of his shirt and slammed him into a locker. A fist slammed into his already injured head, making spots appear in front of his eyes.

"I-i'm s-sorry! I didn't mean it!" Charles cried out, as fist after fist hit his head. He really hadn't meant to pick up on their thoughts and project the answers to their questions into their minds, but he was half asleep due to a fight between his foster parents the night before, and he was too exhausted to control his powers. He also hadn't intended to reveal that he was a telepath to the bullies, but fear often caused him to lose control, and the three football players were terrifying.

"You know you did, you disgusting piece of shit," growled one of them. Charles couldn't remember his name.

"I didn't! P-please s-stop," Charles screamed out, feeling tears slip down his face. No one would help him. People hated mutants, and it was a miracle he was even admitted into any school. The other kids and even the teachers would rather hear him scream than help him. He was fucked, and the bullies knew it.

Another punch to the forehead left a trail of blood across his face that pooled in Charles' eye, forcing it shut. His other eye was too swollen to see out of, and he was left nearly blind. Blows kept coming, but he couldn't see where they would hit him. Charles whimpered in pain and fear, and they laughed.

Suddenly, Charles heard footsteps. Great, he thought, another tormenter coming to make his life hell. But there was an odd sound as well, clanging. It sounded like the warping of metal. Charles started shaking; the new guy must be extraordinarily strong. What if they killed him? Honestly, Charles wouldn't put it past them. Fear can do funny things to people's minds.

"Put him down, Trask," Hissed the newcomer, his voice threatening. Charles flinched at the tone. Oddly enough, his bullies complied, throwing his battered body to the ground. Perhaps this boy was the leader. Maybe he was going to attack Charles himself. Charles shivered at the thought.

"Another mutant? Today's our lucky day boys." Still reeling from the blows, Charles realised he couldn't possibly have heard Trask correctly. There was no way that the school had accepted two mutants, was there?

Charles heard the clanging of metal overlaid by screaming from Trask and his friends. He took no pleasure in their cries of pain; they were just scared of him, and they displayed their fear with their fists. He didn't blame them, as was the nature of humans and mutants.

He opened his swollen eyes to see his bullies wrapped in metal from lockers. From the grimaces on their faces, their positions had left them pained.

The boy who had rescued Charles walked towards him, and he shrunk back, trying to make himself disappear. He was slightly terrified of the boy; Charles was nowhere near that powerful, not to mention incapacitated.

The other boy bent down, "Are you okay?"

"N-no, not r-really," Charles whispered, "d-do you think you could g-get my wheelchair for me?"

He looked surprised, "Of course." He stretched out his hand and Charles' wheelchair flew towards him.

Charles stared at his chair, contemplating how he would get in it with only one hand. He was paralyzed below the waist, and his mobility in that moment was severely limited. "Do you need some help?" Questioned the boy. He nodded, effectively out of options.

Suddenly, he picked Charles up, bridal style. Charles blushed at the discomfort of being held by the stranger, and the discomfort of being at his mercy.

When Charles was finally back in his chair, he realized that he did not know the boy's name.

"Oh, I am Charles by the way. What's your name?"

"I'm Erik," the other boy stated. "Do you want to go to the nurse?"

Charles glanced at his smashed watch, "No, I would rather just go home. School is nearly over, and the nurse would not treat a mutant patient anyway," He stated with a sad smile, blood still trickling down his face from various wounds.

"Alright. Do you need help moving?" Erik questioned, concern that Charles wasn't used to seeing showing on his face.

"Yes please."

Erik began to push Charles towards the doors, both reveling in the fact that the other was the first mutant they had ever known.