Erik...
The all too familiar voice echoed in his mind. It tormented him whether he was awake or asleep. And now it pulled him inexorably forward, driving him on though he did not know what he would find.
He marched on through the night. His polished shoes clicked against the rough pavement of the country road. Darkness curled around him like a cold blanket. Even the sky was a flat expanse of shadowy clouds that concealed the pinprick light of the stars and dulled the glow of the moon. Time seemed to vanish entirely. He did not tire in any sense, as if a strange spell had overcome him.
To the passing cars, few and far between as they were, he must have been a strange sight indeed, were they able to glimpse him in the headlights as they sped by. And yet, though he could feel them pass, they seemed not to exist on the same plane. To each other, they could have been mere shadows, real enough to see, but not to touch.
Eventually he saw the hospital in the distance, a beacon of harsh light like a searchlight against the dark sky.
This. This was his destination.
He waded into the bright light, shielding his eyes from its sting until finally they adjusted. No one questioned his presence as he strode through the hospital's whitewashed halls with a certainty he did not feel. But the pull was much stronger here, as though he would be drawn to the heart of the labyrinth whether he willed it or not. For his part, he did not resist.
He stopped at one of many doors in one of many hallways.
Here. Here he would have his answer, satisfying or otherwise.
He hesitated for only an instant before knocking.
There was a moment of hesitation on the other side before a familiar voice answered, "Come in," as though he had knocked at the mahogany door of an office many miles away.
It could not have been real, but he did as he was bid.
Inside lay Charles Xavier.
Even buried under layers of tubes and wires that connected him to a variety of noisy machines, Charles was unmistakable. And alive.
Charles watched him with an indecipherable expression that clearly indicated some judgement was being made, but not which way it would turn - in his favor or against him. Though Erik may have seemed the stronger to some outside observer, he was starkly aware that he was the one at a disadvantage here, and a steep one at that. However, Charles did not press his advantage, for the little Erik could have done to stop him; for the moment, at least, Erik's mind appeared to be his alone.
At last, Charles's face broke into a small smile and he spoke warmly as though they were meeting under entirely unremarkable circumstances, "Welcome. Do take a seat, we have much to discuss."
Note: This is the final draft of a story I first wrote years and years ago, after watching the third X-Men movie. The movie seemed to go out of its way to give Magneto and Professor X a happy ending with the two post-credit scenes - Magneto still having his powers and Professor X waking up in a hospital. So, I decided to take it to it's logical conclusion.
This was originally posted on my tumblr, vtsuion dot tumblr dot com, where I am posting shorts like this one, answering questions, and accepting writing prompts, so check it out!