Disclaimer: Not mine. I just decided to borrow them for a
while. Really, I didn't even get them dirty!
Summary: In character thoughts from the movie. Erik and
Charles search for hope in the past they shared.
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Rating: PG-13 (slash)
Warnings/Spoilers: As for warnings, there's some mild
angst. As for spoilers... none, really. This builds on a
scene from the movie, but nothing that you won't see after
watching the first twenty minutes.
Acknowledgements/Dedications: Alex, I love you, you're
the bestest Beta in the whole world! (I'll get chewed for
that one). This story doesn't really have a dedication, but it
is the first of its fandom that I've written, so it's kind of
special in that right. It's pathetically short but oh well. . .
win some lose some. While writing this I should have been
studying for my social final, but it wasn;t happening and I
aced the test anyway. The moral of the story: write slash
instead of studying and you'll get good marks. Wait a
minute. . .
_______
The Hope of Memories
By Christy Robbins
_______
"Erik!"
He had been spotted.
Of course he had been spotted. The idiocy was his for
thinking it would be otherwise. Charles was, after all, one
of the world's most powerful psychics. Moreover, the two
of them had been too close for him NOT to have sensed
Erik close by.
Turning slightly, Erik regarded the crippled man that sat in
the chair down the hall. How the sight pained him. He did
remember a time when Charles had not seemed so weak, so
old. That was before the war. Before the differences in
ideologies had sent them to opposing sides of the same
battlefield. He remembered what it was like to share the
same dream with the man who he had loved. . . to share the
same bed. He remembered the way that Charles tucked his
own body into the curve of Erik's, the way the goose
bumps rose on his skin when his lover did so. He
remembered Charles' smell - like old musk and ivory. He
remembered the reverence that had taken hold of his gaze
whenever he beheld Charles' body.
That had been before the School, before the War. Before
Scott and Jean and the X-men. It had been back when it
was only Erik and Charles, sharing what they thought was
forever. It had been the moments that had lasted into
eternity yet ended much too quickly.
"Please give them a chance. Consider what we're trying to
accomplish here."
Accomplish? There could be no accomplishments. For
centuries - millennia - mankind had feared what they did
not know. History was rife with examples of petty human
hatred and bigotry, the closest example to his heart being
World War II and the Holocaust. He had been given a
serial number and categorized because of the differences in
his heritage. There were countless more examples: the
burnings in Salem, Massachusetts, the Ku Klux Klan, the
homophobic masses. . .
Another subject so close to his heart.
He shuddered.
"You have to give the humans time. Don't give up on
them, mankind has evolved."
No, they had not. Mankind would never evolve from the
prejudiced mob that they had begun as. It was as it always
had been. Even disregarding the Holocaust, he would have
sentenced them to the same thing. He remembered Charles
and he making their way down the street of a crowded city
street - Erik pushing Charles along - and being bumped
into. He remembered what it was like to hear the words
'damn faggots' come from the mouth of one who could
never understand and how the pained expression had
crossed Charles face. He remembered how he had wanted
to hurt the man for causing that pain and how Charles was
the only thing to come between Erik and his vengeance.
Not this time.
He felt a brush of presence through his head and winced a
bit under the strain of the suddenly flashback. Holding
Charles in his arms, nuzzling at the curve of his neck,
worshipping his body as they made love.
How dare he!
"Are you trying to sneak around in my head Charles?
What are you trying to find?" he demanded quietly. No, he
would not allow himself to show weakness before this man.
"Hope." Scowling, Erik turned on his heel and disappeared
down the hall.
~
Hope. Hope and something more.
What had Charles been looking for, really? A sign that the
man he had loved - still loved - was still there, buried deep
under the hate and anger that had welled up. A sign that,
perhaps, things could be the way they used to be before
Erik had let his hate devour him.
Turning his chair, Xavier went to meet with Jean. After her
impassioned speech, she would be seeking the normal
answers that drove her onwards. Why did mankind seek to
persecute what they could no accept? Why had they not
yet truly evolved, as Charles suggested? Why couldn't
they let go of their anger?
Yes, why?
If Charles knew all the answers - all the true, unabridged
answers - he would be able to find a way to bring back
Erik from the swelling hatred that had consumed him.
Then they could work together instead of opposing each
other. A sweet dream, one that was infinitely preferable to
reality. Yet the truth remained: Erik had been destroyed
because of his hatred and the man Charles loved was gone
forever.
*I still love him.* The thought was not his own and
Charles started when it entered his head. The sound of
Erik's mind in his was startlingly alien yet admittedly
familiar. Looking out the near window, he spotted Erik
standing on the pavement below, looking up at the building
with an expression that echoed the sadness in Charles' own
heart. Yet, as Erik turned and made his way down the
street, Charles felt a stirring within him. Erik still loved
him.
Perhaps there was still some of Erik left yet.
And then Charles found it.
Hope.
while. Really, I didn't even get them dirty!
Summary: In character thoughts from the movie. Erik and
Charles search for hope in the past they shared.
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Rating: PG-13 (slash)
Warnings/Spoilers: As for warnings, there's some mild
angst. As for spoilers... none, really. This builds on a
scene from the movie, but nothing that you won't see after
watching the first twenty minutes.
Acknowledgements/Dedications: Alex, I love you, you're
the bestest Beta in the whole world! (I'll get chewed for
that one). This story doesn't really have a dedication, but it
is the first of its fandom that I've written, so it's kind of
special in that right. It's pathetically short but oh well. . .
win some lose some. While writing this I should have been
studying for my social final, but it wasn;t happening and I
aced the test anyway. The moral of the story: write slash
instead of studying and you'll get good marks. Wait a
minute. . .
_______
The Hope of Memories
By Christy Robbins
_______
"Erik!"
He had been spotted.
Of course he had been spotted. The idiocy was his for
thinking it would be otherwise. Charles was, after all, one
of the world's most powerful psychics. Moreover, the two
of them had been too close for him NOT to have sensed
Erik close by.
Turning slightly, Erik regarded the crippled man that sat in
the chair down the hall. How the sight pained him. He did
remember a time when Charles had not seemed so weak, so
old. That was before the war. Before the differences in
ideologies had sent them to opposing sides of the same
battlefield. He remembered what it was like to share the
same dream with the man who he had loved. . . to share the
same bed. He remembered the way that Charles tucked his
own body into the curve of Erik's, the way the goose
bumps rose on his skin when his lover did so. He
remembered Charles' smell - like old musk and ivory. He
remembered the reverence that had taken hold of his gaze
whenever he beheld Charles' body.
That had been before the School, before the War. Before
Scott and Jean and the X-men. It had been back when it
was only Erik and Charles, sharing what they thought was
forever. It had been the moments that had lasted into
eternity yet ended much too quickly.
"Please give them a chance. Consider what we're trying to
accomplish here."
Accomplish? There could be no accomplishments. For
centuries - millennia - mankind had feared what they did
not know. History was rife with examples of petty human
hatred and bigotry, the closest example to his heart being
World War II and the Holocaust. He had been given a
serial number and categorized because of the differences in
his heritage. There were countless more examples: the
burnings in Salem, Massachusetts, the Ku Klux Klan, the
homophobic masses. . .
Another subject so close to his heart.
He shuddered.
"You have to give the humans time. Don't give up on
them, mankind has evolved."
No, they had not. Mankind would never evolve from the
prejudiced mob that they had begun as. It was as it always
had been. Even disregarding the Holocaust, he would have
sentenced them to the same thing. He remembered Charles
and he making their way down the street of a crowded city
street - Erik pushing Charles along - and being bumped
into. He remembered what it was like to hear the words
'damn faggots' come from the mouth of one who could
never understand and how the pained expression had
crossed Charles face. He remembered how he had wanted
to hurt the man for causing that pain and how Charles was
the only thing to come between Erik and his vengeance.
Not this time.
He felt a brush of presence through his head and winced a
bit under the strain of the suddenly flashback. Holding
Charles in his arms, nuzzling at the curve of his neck,
worshipping his body as they made love.
How dare he!
"Are you trying to sneak around in my head Charles?
What are you trying to find?" he demanded quietly. No, he
would not allow himself to show weakness before this man.
"Hope." Scowling, Erik turned on his heel and disappeared
down the hall.
~
Hope. Hope and something more.
What had Charles been looking for, really? A sign that the
man he had loved - still loved - was still there, buried deep
under the hate and anger that had welled up. A sign that,
perhaps, things could be the way they used to be before
Erik had let his hate devour him.
Turning his chair, Xavier went to meet with Jean. After her
impassioned speech, she would be seeking the normal
answers that drove her onwards. Why did mankind seek to
persecute what they could no accept? Why had they not
yet truly evolved, as Charles suggested? Why couldn't
they let go of their anger?
Yes, why?
If Charles knew all the answers - all the true, unabridged
answers - he would be able to find a way to bring back
Erik from the swelling hatred that had consumed him.
Then they could work together instead of opposing each
other. A sweet dream, one that was infinitely preferable to
reality. Yet the truth remained: Erik had been destroyed
because of his hatred and the man Charles loved was gone
forever.
*I still love him.* The thought was not his own and
Charles started when it entered his head. The sound of
Erik's mind in his was startlingly alien yet admittedly
familiar. Looking out the near window, he spotted Erik
standing on the pavement below, looking up at the building
with an expression that echoed the sadness in Charles' own
heart. Yet, as Erik turned and made his way down the
street, Charles felt a stirring within him. Erik still loved
him.
Perhaps there was still some of Erik left yet.
And then Charles found it.
Hope.
