Hello all! Been reading quite a bit in this fandom lately, and with such great characters and themes and the like it was only inevitable that I'd eventually try my hand at it myself. This is something of an introspective piece inspired obviously by certain scenes from the First Class film, but also by the upcoming 2015 adaptation of Frankenstein, which has James McAvoy in the role. Couldn't resist, really. Enjoy!

Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock

Frankenstein

It was deceptively warm for a day early in December when Hank came to him with the news. Lee Harvey Oswald hadn't been the only one implicated in the assassination. The Pentagon was holding someone entirely different responsible for the tragedy, and was now holding him prisoner: Erik

His fate was to be an entirely different one as well. It was not death that had its hold on Erik Lehnsherr now, but cold hard plastic and concrete. A special prison made available for perhaps the most special of prisoners. With no metal around him, it was unlikely the other mutant would ever be causing trouble again.

Charles should have felt relief, like the waves of it that practically rolled off Hank for days after they'd gotten word of this development. With Erik put away, the nightmare was over. Magneto's Brotherhood would crumble in its infancy, and the larger world need never know of his old friend's radical and violent ambitions.

Instead he felt chilled. Oh, he of course knew the other man was a killer of ruthless efficiency; he'd experienced it practically firsthand via his hold on Shaw's mind, and the memory of that coin drilling into his skull and slicing through his very brain had him shuddering and reaching for the glass of scotch he'd had Hank fetch for him. But this was the first kill that could be attributed to his fellow mutant since Cuba, since he'd put on a helmet and declared their separation, dashing all of Charles' hopes for him to pieces while leaving him bleeding and broken.

Shaw had been different. Killing Shaw had always been Erik's plan, Erik's personal goal, for no other reason than that Erik wanted the man dead for killing his mother, whether either of them were a mutant or not. President John F. Kennedy's assassination, however, had been Magneto's work, part of his plan to strike back against humanity. Both cases had their basis in vengeance, but there was a difference.

Erik had always been self-contained before that fateful night Charles had jumped off the ship to save his life and spoken the words, "You're not alone." And brought with him all he knew about mutants and evolution and his ideas for the future. He'd told Erik that they had a chance to be part of something bigger than themselves. And the part that Erik had chosen was Magneto.

Dubious as the origins for the name was, it was a mutant name, representing clearly the transition his friend had made from a lone man on a quest to a leader with a cause. Perhaps Charles should have been proud; after all, it was solely due to him that this transformation had come about.

His fault.

Ignorance was bliss, and Charles, a telepath with all the knowledge in the world at the touch of his fingertips to his temple, knew this to be true. Erik had always seen himself as a freak of nature, a monster, like every mutant he had ever met. But the man had simply categorized his ability to manipulate metal as a useful skill to be used for his mission. And then Charles had had to go and throw that very isolated worldview out the window, instead telling him of mutants—identification—and what they could do, how they could change the world.

All would have been well, perhaps, if Charles had been able to convince his friend of his own worldview. But he'd never really been in control, of any of it, he realized quite bitterly now. He'd planted the seeds of ideas that in Erik had grown into Magneto. And when he had proven unwilling to accept the other mutant's philosophies in return, Magneto had struck with the terrible power that Charles himself had shown him the way to, never dreaming that he'd given life to something that should never have been discovered, that even Herr Doktor Schmidt had been wary of awakening.

And just because everything truly was so very personal with the metal bender, he'd stolen his dear Raven and taken her for his own: Mystique, the right-hand woman of Magneto. And even now, she was lost to him. He'd let them both go, his failures, on that beach, with the knowledge that he could not and would not stop them even if it meant he unleashed something frightful on the world.

Because a single, angry man with a vendetta could only do so much, and Erik had known that even before Shaw's body had hit the floor of the submarine. But it was Charles who had given him the opportunity, the reasons, the ability to carry on with a new goal, this one with targets in the billions. Their debates over chess had firmly set the man's beliefs for the new world he envisioned for mutantkind and their training of the team provided the blueprint for his own organization. Everything about Magneto spoke of Charles' influence, even as the man had crowned himself with his original mentor's helmet and professed himself free of it. Because the first thing a student, or creation, did was defy the creator.

Sebastian Shaw may have created Erik Lehnsherr but Charles Xavier had created Magneto, and it was becoming clear which was the worse crime. Truly the one thing that separated them was that Shaw was dead and Charles crippled. He was left increasingly alone to run the school, a task he was beginning to feel impossible even with the reminder of his greatest failing—his monster—locked away, and left to wonder which was the worse fate.

So yeah. A fairly angsty first stab at this fandom. I'd love to hear thoughts, so thanks so much for reading and please review!