"Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."

-Mark Twain

Erik woke in his bed to a harsh screaming at the back of his head. He sat upright immediately, glancing at the clock out of habit. Well after midnight. What could Charles possibly want? After his head cleared, Lehnsherr realized that Charles wasn't intruding, he was projecting. The psychic noise was overwhelming, and Erik could feel it slowly spreading across his mind in waves. Wherever Xavier was, it felt like he was in pain. Alarmed, Lehnsherr jumped out of bed and dashed into the hall.

He found Xavier twisting and turning in his bed, covered in sweat. His every muscle was tense, and he had fisted the sheets with white knuckles. Erik approached his friend slowly. "Charles?" The telepath didn't appear hurt, but he was obviously having a nightmare. An extreme one, considering he had probably woken most of the mansion with his psychic projections. Charles muttered something under his breath, and Lehnsherr came close enough to touch his friend. "Charles? You're going to tear the mansion apart. Wake up." Xavier didn't stir. Erik hit him in the shoulder. "Charles!"

Immersed in his dream, Charles lay useless on the ground, watching the scene before him. He tried again to stand but found his legs numb. Raven was several feet behind him. There was a gash torn in her shoulder, and a gunshot wound through her torso. There was blood on the ground beneath her. Her eyes were fixed in horror over his shoulder. "Raven, run!" he screamed at her, the corners of his eyes stinging. She couldn't hear him and lie still. To his other side was Sebastian Shaw, with a cruel smile painted on his face. He aimed a pistol directly at Raven's head. In a desperate attempt to stop him, Charles lashed out with his telepathy-

And cut a gash into Erik's mind. The telepath was jolted from his dream by a sharp cry of agony. He sat up quickly, the coppery tang of fear already coating his mouth at realizing what he'd just done. He jumped from the bed down to the floor, where Erik was doubled over on the carpet, screaming and gasping. "Erik!" Xavier cried, "I'm so sorry!" He put a hand to his temple and was instantly bombarded with nightmarish visions of sharp metal, the spray of blood, bodies falling to the floor. Charles yanked himself out of Erik's head, eyes wide. No, no. He couldn't have. Trapped in his own fears, Charles had cut into the deepest part of his friend's mind where he had vowed never to go. It was where Erik kept his worst fears. And his darkest thoughts. Horrified, Charles dove in again. He blocked out all those thoughts as best he could and mentally pushed them back as hard as possible. "Erik!' He said again, shaking Lehnsherr. "Can you hear me?"

"Charles!" Erik gasped, pulling in his breath like he'd been underwater for too long. Relieved, Charles released the tension across their minds.

"Hell, Erik, I am so terribly sorry…"

"It's alright, Charles, I shouldn't have woken you in that state." Erik looked like he was about to throw up. He was working hard to control his breathing. Xavier gently touched his arm.

"I'm sorry. Are you alright?" Lehnsherr nodded slowly. Charles helped him stand. Erik moved towards the door. He stopped before the threshold and turned back.

"Thank you."

"If you're thanking me for ravaging your brain, perhaps Hank should check your head." Erik chuckled briefly.

"I meant, thank you for being my friend." Charles was momentarily surprised. That was the closest Erik had ever come to discussing feelings. "I've never really had any. That you were willing to see beyond what I think of myself…I just wanted to tell you that I care. Alright?" Xavier nodded. "Whatever happens tomorrow, promise me you won't forget."

"Of…of course, my friend. You had best get some sleep." Erik disappeared into the hallway after a moment's hesitation. The moment he was gone, Charles sank into his desk chair. Pressing his knuckles into his forehead, Charles finally let the tears spill from his eyes. He cried silently, unwilling to admit to himself what he'd known from the moment he'd slashed into Erik's thoughts. But he knew it was true. He knew it, and it was killing him. As the tears blurred his vision completely, Charles faced the truth:

Tomorrow the team was going to Cuba to stop Shaw. And tomorrow…

Erik wasn't coming back.