Voices. The deafening sounds of many painful cries and pleas echoed in his mind, shooting back and forth from one side of his brain to the other. The noise was torturous, almost unbearable. It felt like the whole world, screaming out in terror, was trapped inside his head.
I am cursed, Charles Xavier thought, barely able to hear his own thoughts above the roar of everyone else's. I am cursed to listen to these voices day and night. Cursed with this awful mutation!
Though is mobility was limited, Charles managed to roll over in his bed and reach for the small, cylinder-shaped vial that contained the serum Hank had created. It was sitting on the wooden bedside table. He had become so reliant on the fluorescent orange substance. Not just for walking, but to settle the voices in his head. He had completely lost control of the powerful mutation he'd once treasured. It had become a horrible burden, a form of never-ending mental torture.
Charles carefully injected the sharp needle into his skin. The slight prick of pain was followed by a wave of tranquillity. The awful numbness in his legs began to fade away, and the roaring voices in his head were silenced.
Peace at last, Charles thought, finally able to relax. Now maybe I will get some sleep.
As he reached over to put the vial back where it belonged, his eyes fell upon a photograph. Charles wiped the dust off the photograph with his finger, revealing the memorable image. The picture showed him and Raven, the day he graduated from Oxford University. Vivid memories of the day came flooding into his mind…
"Congratulations, mutated nerd," teased Raven, nudging him in the side playfully.
"I think you mean gifted, intelligent University graduate," Charles said wittily. "Could you take some photos of me please, Raven? This is quite a memorable occasion, and I'm looking rather good today."
Raven rolled her eyes and began snapping photographs, as Charles posed proudly in his graduation robe. After countless pictures had been taken, Charles noticed another graduate walk past and pulled him aside. "Do you mind taking a photo of my sister and I?" he asked, handing the young man the camera.
"Why do you want me in the photo?" asked Raven, getting herself into position next to Charles.
"Because you look beautiful and I look intelligent. This is a special day, Raven. Now, smile."
Overcome with feelings of sadness and nostalgia, tears began to slowly fall from Charles' eyes. Ever since the day Raven left, his heart had remained broken in two. He longed to see her smiling face again. Even with Hank around to keep him company, Charles still found to mansion uncomfortably empty and lonely without his darling Raven. She'd somehow always managed to keep the place alive and full of joy. Without her, Charles had become a broken man. He loathed Erik for snatching her away, like a piece of metal subject to his controlling powers.
Charles spent the remainder of the early hours of the morning sitting by the window, clutching a bottle of alcohol in his hands. He watched the black, starry sky fade into a flood of bright colours. Warm, bright shades of red, orange and pink were splashed across the sky like paint, creating a beautiful picture. With every mouthful of alcohol, Charles felt more of his tears dry up. He slowly started to forget why he'd even been sobbing in the first place.
oOo
"How many times have I told you, Professor? Drowning your sorrows in alcohol will not solve your problems," said the voice that woke Charles Xavier later that morning. He opened his eyes, and was blinded by the bright beams of sunlight piercing through the window. Squinting, he looked up to see Hank standing beside his bed, shooting him a disapproving glance.
"I needed something to help me sleep," groaned Charles, his head pounding with pain.
Hank sighed. "Sleep? One of these days, if you're not careful, you'll drink yourself to death."
Would that really matter? Charles thought, but said nothing. He didn't want to cause drama and worry.
"Look Charles, I know things aren't great at the moment, but maybe they'll get better if you give them a chance," Hank said hopefully.
"I used to be successful, happy, maybe even slightly sexy. Now look at me. I'm a hairy, depressed alcoholic recluse," Charles spoke, his voice dripping with self-pity. "I've lost everything, Hank."
"Professor, you can't live in a mansion and claim you've lost everything," Hank replied, a slight smile breaking out across his face.
"Well, the things that meant the most to me." Charles sat up slowly and forced himself out of bed. The increasing, dull ache in his lower back was reminding him that the effects of the serum had nearly worn off. "Can you pass me the serum please, Hank?"
"I swear you're becoming addicted to this stuff. Remember, I have no evidence to prove that it has no negative long term effects," Hank reminded Charles as he begrudgingly handed him the serum. A brief, uncomfortable silence fell over them while Charles injected himself with the serum. "I miss her too, you know," Hank said at last, adjusting his glasses nervously. "Raven is by far the most amazing girl I've ever met. It kills me to think that she's out there, alone, getting herself into all sorts of danger."
Charles handed the cylinder-shaped container and needle back to Hank. "Oh, I have faith in her ability to take care of herself. I just wish she was here… this place doesn't really feel like home without her." Charles began pacing anxiously back and forth across the room. Anger was beginning to spread infectiously inside him, pressure building up like a volcano almost ready to erupt. He bent down to pick up the empty glass bottle lying on the floor. "I guess I had to let her go sooner or later. If she wants to run off with a manipulative imbecile whose idiotic mistakes now have him held under the frickin' Pentagon, well, that's fine by me!" In an explosive fit of rage, Charles threw the bottle forcefully so it collided with the bedroom wall and shattered into thousands of tiny glass fragments.
Hank stood beside him watching, speechless, his mouth open in shock. "Would you like to be left alone, Professor?" he asked finally, after a seemingly long four minute period.
Charles turned his to face the young scientist. His eyes were burning with anger and drowning in sadness. "I just want things to go back to the way they were."