Mutant and Proud
Author: threeninefour
Summary: Dribbles and drabbles between XMFC and DOFP. Featuring Charles, Raven, Hank, and Alex. 'I'm sorry.' 'Is it worth it though?' Charles and Raven. Rated T to be safe.
Disclaimer: I do not own X-men in any way, nor do I own any characters mentioned, used, or written to have anejaculation. The standard disclaimers apply. I own Doctor Faggart, all rights reserved.
A/N: This can be viewed as a sequel to You and Me Against the World, but no prior reading of that is needed for understanding of this fanfiction.
"Erik, you said yourself we're the better men. This is the time to prove it!"
Erik ignores Charles and slowly turns the missiles with his mind, his hand turning in a gesture.
"There are thousands of men on those ships. Good, honest, innocent men. They are only following orders." Charles emphasizes on his point, staring at Erik with pleading eyes.
"I have been at the mercy of those men," Erik glares back, steel emerging in his irises.
"Never again."
He closes his fist and opens his fingers, and the missiles rocketed towards the ships of the Russian and American.
"Erik, NO!"
Charles' back arched with a gasp escaping from him. Hot, blind, scorching pain exploded at the bottom of his spine, and he landed on the sand, facing down.
His world was filled of pain he never felt before, so real and physical, too much for him to register the sand in his mouth.
"Charles!"
"Go with him. I know it's what you want."
"You promised me you'd never read my mind."
And I didn't need to.
"I made a lot of promises, Raven."
Go, my sister.
And when she left, disappearing into thin air, he could have tracked down Azazel's mind, or Angel's, or even hers, but he didn't.
And his heart broke a little more.
Moira was trying to carry him up, but pain flashed down his spine again, and he could not help but cry out. Hank quickly told them to not move him, as that may worsen his injury.
He was all but controlling himself to hug Hank back.
When he tried to move his legs, they didn't nudge an inch. They didn't move at all.
And he could not feel them at all.
"I...I can't...I can't feel my legs."
"I can't feel my legs."
"Mr. Xavier," the doctor-in-charge started.
"Doctor Xavier," Charles cut in, looking pointedly at the man in the white coat and a clipboard in his arms.
"My apologies. Are you a medical doctor, or...?"
"I have a doctorate in genetics, biophysics, psychology, and anthropology, as well as an M.D. in psychiatry."
The doctor – Dr. Faggart, which Charles read off from his nametag - tried not to openly gape in response. Charles was also holding his laughter, amused at both his name and his expression – which looked like a dying fish.
"Ah, yes then. Doctor Xavier, the bullet entered your spine, and almost completely severed it, at the second last vertebra of the lumbar spine. We have inserted metal pins to hold the spine together, after removing the bullet."
Charles looked impassive.
"What material are the pins of?"
"Titanium, Doctor Xavier."
Seeing Charles' nod at his answer, Doctor Faggart continued, "The nerves were almost fully severed too, I'm afraid there is...a very small chance of recovery of the bottom half of your body."
The doctor looked a touch uncomfortable, but most probably because of Charles' nonchalant expression.
"We will have to run more tests when your wound is healed to fully determine the diagnosis, for the mean time, please try to relax and do not strain yourself."
Charles then nodded. "Doctor Faggart, in the case of paralysis and loss of sensation of the lower part of the body, what about the groin area?"
The doctor looked surprised at the question. Normally others would wait until the full diagnosis was out before asking, or not even daring to ask it.
"If that is the case, you'll still be able to feel the need to relieve yourself, but you'll have to use a catheter. You will still be able to feel during sexual intercourse, but there is a high chance of anejaculation."
Charles nodded again. "Thank you, Doctor."
The doctor smiled thinly and pushed his spectacles up his nose bridge. "Normally, there will be sessions with the hospital psychiatrist who deals with trauma from externally inflicted injuries such as wounds from firearms and life altering injuries, but this also depends on the agreement of the patient. Seeing as you are a psychiatrist yourself..." He trailed off.
"I'll not be requiring these sessions, thank you."
"Yes, very well. I'll take my leave now, please rest well, Doctor Xavier."
It was either that the fact that he could not move his legs again still refuses to dawn on him or that he already knew it from the moment the bullet entered his spine, that he sat there on the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling in silence.
"Hank...could you please help me up the stairs?"
"Oh. Sure, Charles."
"I think it is time I change a bedroom after two decades of occupying the same one."
"Of course, Charles."
"And installing of an elevator."
"Ramps too, my friend. They are in need."
Please! Don't do this, Maria!
You whore! Get out, get OUT, before I do something I regret!
Mother? Mother! No, oh my god, Mom?!
Charles grasped at his hair, trying to tame the extreme amount of thoughts in his brain.
Go! Run!
I love you so much, my darling boy.
Dad? Please? Can we?
God, switch off that infuriating radio!
"Charles?"
"Yes...Hank?"
"Are you alright?"
"Yes- No, I'm not, but I think I'll be in a moment."
"Alex's leaving to fight in the Vietnam War."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realise. He made up his mind?"
"Yes, I couldn't persuade him from leaving."
"Alex. I hear that you are leaving for Vietnam?"
"Professor! Hello. Yes, I am. In two more days, in fact."
"I assume there's no way to dissuade you from leaving?"
Alex shook his head and grinned.
"Alright, then. If you are in need of anything, monetary wise or not, don't hesitate to ask me."
"Thanks, Professor."
"Bye, Professor, Hank."
"Good bye, Alex."
Alex was a ten steps away from the front door of the Xavier Mansion when Charles called out.
"Stay safe, Alex. Come back in one piece. Alive and whole."
"I promise!" Alex waved his hand, and slung his duffel back over his shoulders.
"Are you all right, Charles?"
"..."
"Hank?"
"Yes, Charles?"
"No, Hank, I'm not alright."
Raven stood outside a window of the Xavier Mansion. She was wearing a coat and a hat, with her blonde disguise on.
She looked at the stained glass, collecting dust at the corner. It brought back memories of their childhood.
She shook her head, like she was trying to clear those memories out of her head.
Charles was in the kitchen of the mansion, sipping his tea like a good old British would do. Thoughts of a million others were currently flying around in his mind, and it was one of the times he wished to have Erik's helmet. He was sure it could keep thoughts out of his head, if it could keep thoughts in Erik's head.
Even though it looked a little...silly. Okay, he admit, anyone who wears it would look like a bloody wagging duck.
He held his fingers up to his temple, trying to concentrate on blocking out all external thoughts, when he sensed a familiar mind.
The one of a red haired appearance-changing mutant, it would seem.
Raven still stood there, heart aching to enter the mansion and take a look at Charles, but mind resisting the urge. She could not be found; it was a matter of safety, and also of...whether she deserved to do so, after she left him voluntarily.
Charles pushed himself past the window she was standing outside, and stopped at the doorway. He looked straight out at her, and she startled.
Raven wished she could just disappear, but forced herself to look back at him.
Raven?
She stayed silent in her mind, and quickly made a turn and ran out of the driveway, while the grey clouds fall as rain on the muddy grass. Just like the sky was weeping.
You and me against the world, my sister. Mutant and proud.
She could hear the familiar voice of his in her head when she was almost half a kilometre away.
Mutant and proud. She repeated to herself. I'm sorry, Charles. I'm sorry.
She did not know whether the wetness on her face was of tears accumulated for months and months, or of the salty, wet rain.
Charles wiped a tear off his cheekbone, and feebly smiled after his sister received his message.
And the crack in his heart healed a little more.
"Are you sure you want to do this? It's not tested on anyone yet. And if it works..."
"Yes, I'm sure. I can't take the thoughts anymore."
Well, I guessed it worked. Charles could hear Hank's half excited thought when he stood up for the first time after the "incident" at Cuba, and that he confirmed Charles could not hear anyone's thoughts anymore.
Is it worth it, though?
Hank was left in a dilemma he created for himself, and deep at the back of his head, he could hear Raven's voice and smile.
Hank! Mutant and proud.
A/N: Here we have my second X-Men fanfiction. It's a different style compared to the first, You and Me Against the World. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you are one of the four hundred and three Ms/Mrs/Mdm/Mr Faggats out there, and if you're not, I meant no offense with the use of the name Faggat. It just sounds a little bit close to faggot, and I apologise on Charles' behalf for the desire to laugh at the name. I am not a Brtish, so I do not know whether they drink tea more than coffee, and the comment on Charles drinking tea like a 'good old British' was not meant to offend anyone.
Please leave a review; it'd make my day!
(All medical information about Charles' injury is as factual and real as I could write, and they are obtained from medical websites and a certified First Aid Manual, but I am no neurology medical doctor. Metal pins, are inserted in broken bones, including the spine, to keep the bones together and in this case, to prevent distortion of Charles' spine, and further damage to the surrounding area. The nerves of the lumbar spine controls mainly the legs, while those of the sacrum control the groin area and some parts of the legs and feet. And these pins are indeed either made of titanium or another type of metal. Titanium, if you'd recall, is a non-magnetic metal, and Magneto can only control magnetic metals due to his mutation. Thus Charles' question on the material of the pins. Also, Anejaculation is the inability to ejaculate semen despite stimulation of the penis by intercourse or masturbation due to psychological or physical reasons. Most men following complete or incomplete spinal cord injury (SCI) will lose their ability to ejaculate and have an orgasm, and in Charles' case, it's an almost complete SCI, but about 60% of these men continue to have the ability to erect, and Charles too. I trust you know what a catheter does. After all these research, I definitely know more about spines and nerves!)