Everything except Temptation
"I can resist everything except temptation" – Oscar Wilde
As I said in the summary, this was written before Days of Future Past was released. When I started writing this I only had the trailer to go off, and so the mechanisms of time travel in this fic are inconsistent with those shown in Days of Future Past (and there are a few other inconsistencies as well). In this fic going back in time is a permanent, one-way trip, Logan isn't the only person capable of making it and the Professor and Magneto have been considering the possibility of sending someone back in time for rather longer than was portrayed in Days of Future Past.
I hope, despite the fact it's no longer canon, you enjoy this story. I certainly enjoyed writing it, even though I normally don't like writing OCs. In fact I normally wouldn't write anything like this! But, this fic just dug its teeth in and wouldn't let go until I finished it. So, here we are…
Prologue
It's not her 'dirty little secret', not really.
But some days it feels like it is.
It's not that she's doing anything wrong, per se. But she knows her students won't see it like that. They'll see it as a betrayal. They won't understand why she does it. Quite frankly, she doesn't really understand why she does it either.
It starts one sunny afternoon in early September; the leaves are starting to turn, there's a hint of a chill in the wind that gusts through the trees – a forecast of the months to come – but overall it's still warm enough not to need more than a lightweight jacket over her summer dress. It's one of her favourites; forget-me-not blue, strapless and full skirted. It makes her feel beautiful, like a movie star. It's not just the dress that makes her feel like that; the man walking beside her is as responsible for that feeling as anything else. He makes her feel special, cherished, safe, and that's partly why she can feel herself falling in love with him… that, and the fact that he doesn't care about what she can do with her mind, doesn't care that she's different, doesn't care that she's not human like him… that she's a mutant.
They stroll hand-in-hand through the park and Natalie can feel herself practically humming with happiness, she's so full of it that it's bubbling up and spilling over in gentle waves of joy and contentment. There's a small smile on David's face that lets her know that he's noticed the second-hand emotions that she's projecting – it's one of the perils of dating an empath. But, he doesn't say anything, he's content to just enjoy it, to let her spread a little more joy around.
He's not the only one who notices though.
They're walking past a group of old men playing chess when one of the men looks up at them as they pass. Natalie turns to smile at him, to share her joy at the world, when she recognises the face beneath the wide brimmed hat. The smile freezes on her face, and her happiness evaporates so quickly that David feels it and turns to ask her what's wrong. She shakes her head at him, dismisses it as nothing, leads him away from the man with the hat as fast as she can without it looking suspicious. She goes back to projecting joy and contentment - though this time it's fake - and while she doesn't think she's completely convinced David that she is fine, he at least doesn't ask her what's wrong again. He trusts her to tell him when she's ready.
She's not sure she'll ever be ready.
So she doesn't understand why, the next day, she goes out of her way to walk back through the park. David isn't with her this time. He's at work and she should be too - yes, Ororo said she could handle things for a while, that Natalie should take some time and get away from the seething mass of teenage trauma and hormones that is the Xavier Institute at the moment. But they're so short staffed, Natalie feels guilty about taking more than a day or two off at a time…. So, she really doesn't understand why, instead of heading back to her students, she finds herself slipping into an empty seat in the park.
The man on the other side of the chessboard looks up as she sits down. There's a mixture of amusement and curiosity in his eyes as he recognises her.
"Miss Walker, isn't it?" He asks amiably.
Natalie nods and smiles cordially, she's surprised he remembers her name - they've only actually met once before - but she hides her surprise behind a polite exterior. "Mr Lehnsherr." She says, and then doesn't know what else to say. She looks down at the board instead. He's just laid out the pieces again, after his last game, and Natalie realises she's sat down on the white side of the board. So, she picks up a pawn and moves it across the board. He raises a dignified eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.
They play in silence for the next ten minutes until he beats her. She doesn't say anything, just re-lays the pieces, and they start again. Their fourth game is interrupted by a phone call from a rather stressed Ororo, who apologises profusely for interrupting Natalie's time off, but someone's rather spectacularly blown up the TV and while, no, nobody's actually physically hurt, there's a very upset 12-year old who could do with the help of the school's resident empath. Natalie is standing to leave before the phone call is even over; she nods a farewell to the man across the chessboard, more from an ingrained sense of politeness than anything else. He returns the gesture, but she barely notices as she hurries back to the chaos of Westchester.
XXXXXX
Over the next three weeks there are four more silent chess sessions. Some longer than others, most eventually end with Natalie having to hurry away to some semi-crisis or other – if she'd known 6 months ago, when Ororo first called, just how much stress was involved in teaching a bunch of emotionally traumatised mutants, well, Natalie isn't sure she'd have been quite so quick to drop her PhD and fly across the Atlantic. Some days she thinks the only thing stopping her getting on a plane and flying back to England, back to the mad serenity of Cambridge, is the debt she feels she owes the Professor. Oh, she does love the kids really, wants them to grow and thrive, wants to help them heal, but she's not used to the constant barrage of emotions living with dozens of teenagers entails.
She's not used to the nightmares either.
She knows she's lived a sheltered life. Knows, she's been incredibly lucky compared to most of her students. She discovered her mutation quite late. She was already at University when she realised that the huge emotional mood swings she'd been experiencing for years weren't just down to hormones, that they were due to other people's emotions, not just her own. Thankfully, one of her Professors had understood what she was going through, had contacted an old friend of hers and arranged for Natalie to take a year out of her studies to learn how to control her talents under the tutelage of Professor Charles Xavier.
That was seven years ago. Since then she's finished her undergraduate and Masters' degrees, and is currently half way through a PhD on 'The Genetic Heritage of Homo neanderthalensis in Modern Homo sapiens'. She's spent the last seven years safe in Cambridge's ivory towers, where nobody cares whether you're gay or straight, human or mutant. Black or white or blue, male or female, all anyone really cares about is the quality of your research. Even in the academic bubble of Cambridge, though, she'd been aware of the growing tensions between humans and mutants out in the wider world. But, they'd seemed like distant worries compared to thesis deadlines and lectures and the trials of teaching undergraduates.
Distant, until Ororo Munroe had telephoned to tell her that Professor Xavier was dead, and to ask her if she would be able to take a year's sabbatical to come and teach at the Xavier Institute.
Distant, until she'd spent her first night experiencing the second hand nightmares of several dozen traumatised teenagers.
Those tensions are painfully close now.
Those tensions are looking at her over a chessboard.
The man previously known as Magneto studies her as she studies the board; she can feel his eyes on her but she keeps all her attention on the pieces in front of her. They've played well over a dozen games over the last few weeks and not once has Natalie come even close to winning. She's not really surprised by that though; Chess isn't her strength and she knows Erik Lehnsherr has had decades of experience playing against one of the greatest minds of his generation.
Still, the constant losing is starting to annoy her.
She wonders if that's the reason she keeps coming back. A stubborn desire to persevere against the odds is one of the cornerstones of her personality; stubbornness got her through her degrees, is getting her through her PhD, and if she's being brutally honest is the real reason she hasn't got on a plane back to England yet (that and David). But, she doesn't really think that's the reason she's sat here playing chess with a man who scares the shit out of her.
She wants to say it's a desire to overcome her fears, to conquer the object of so many of her students' nightmares, that causes her to keep coming back to this park, to this man, but she knows that's not the real reason either.
The cynical part of her suggests it's because the school is a deafening chorus of loud voices and even louder emotions, and this man at least knows how to keep his thoughts quiet.
The honest part of her suspects it's something simpler. Something simpler and yet infinitely more complicated. Something as integral a part of her personality as her stubbornness: curiosity.
The truth is she's curious about Erik Lehnsherr. She knows he was the Professor's friend, his ally. That they once trusted each other, that even after decades of disagreement, of fighting, the Professor still went to visit this man in prison, to play chess with him. She wants to know what happened to push them apart. She wants to know what drives a man to do the things Magneto did. She wants to know why a clever man like Lehnsherr (and he most certainly is a clever man even if he isn't quite the genius the Professor was) can't see how stupid his attacks on humanity were, how he only made things worse for the mutant cause. She could dress that curiosity up in noble clothes and claim it is all in the cause of learning how to prevent any of her students following in Magneto's footsteps, but the truth is she just likes to know how things work, how people work.
She moves her bishop and waits for him to take her castle.
He does and she takes his knight.
She can't help but feel slightly smug as he raises a surprised eyebrow – it's the first time she's made a move he hasn't expected. She's not stupid, she knows he's been playing with her, stringing their games along, drawing them out because he can and because he knows he can win any time he likes. He leans back in his chair and smiles slightly. "Not bad." He says, the first words either of them has said to each other since they greeted each other three weeks ago, and she finds herself smiling back at him.
Six moves later he has her in checkmate.
She lays down her king and as she leans back in her chair she realises she's still smiling. Then she realises he's smiling as well and there's something that almost looks like pride in his eyes when he looks at her and reaches over to replace the knight she took. And that just makes her more curious.
"Why?" She asks suddenly.
He looks up, his brow furrowing in polite curiosity. "'Why' what, my dear?"
"Why did you make them hate us even more?"
He frowns at that and puts down the bishop he just picked up. "What do you mean?"
She raises an incredulous eyebrow; he knows exactly what she means. "Everything you did, every time you attacked them, you just made them hate us more, fear us more."
"They were always going to fear us."
Her thoughts drift briefly to David, wonderful, human, David who definitely doesn't fear her. "Really?"
"Humanity will always fear what it doesn't understand."
She inclines her head slightly in a half nod acquiescing the point. "True, but the solution to that is education, not violence."
"You sound just like Charles, my dear." There's something in his voice that means she doesn't quite know how to take that, whether it's meant to be a compliment or not. His tone is neutral, but there's something in his eyes, a sadness, almost bitter but not quite, and something else, regret perhaps? Whatever it is, it feels oddly private and Natalie finds herself shying away from it, not wanting to pry.
Instead she shrugs slightly and continues the conversation, as if she hasn't just caught a fleeting glimpse of this man's soul. "Look at any civil rights movement; peaceful protest and education are more effective than terrorist bombings and murders. History shows us that it's a futile course of action."
He tips his head slightly, though whether it's to concede her point or not, she's not sure. "History also has its share of genocides." He says quietly, his tone iron hard. She doesn't know whether it's a conscious movement or not, but he turns his wrist slightly and for the first time she notices the numbers inked into his forearm.
She knows what they mean.
She leans back in her chair studying the man in front of her in the light of this revelation. He meets her gaze. He knows what she's just seen and his eyes are challenging her to argue against his point. She doesn't, not yet. Instead she reaches out and silently finishes laying out the chess pieces.
She moves a pawn and then sits back again, waiting him for him to make his move.
They move pieces in silence for several minutes. She watches him more than she watches the board. Eventually she moves a bishop into an obvious trap, sits back and says, "Do you think we are the Master race?"
He looks up sharply, frowning at her with anger in his eyes. Her words were chosen deliberately and she knows he hasn't missed the implication behind them… If looks could kill… but she keeps calmly meeting his gaze, because she knows she's right.
Eventually he breaks the staring contest and looks down at the board. He makes his move. She makes a move in return.
Ten moves later he has her in checkmate.
In silence he lays out the pieces again. This game lasts precisely ten minutes. As she lays down her king he smiles politely at her and stands. "My apologies, my dear, but it's getting late and I have errands to attend to." She accepts his excuses and bids him good evening, pretending she isn't fully aware that, despite the outcome of the chess games, she had just won this round.
XXXXXX
The next time she walks through the park, he isn't there. And the next... In fact, it's another three weeks before she sees him again.
And, when she does, she's with David….
She spots him from a distance, but before she can turn and walk David out of the park he spots her and raises his hand in greeting. And, David sees. Of course David sees. Bloody Magneto had intended for David to see! And, now there's no way she can avoid introducing them. But the thought of introducing the man she's falling in love with to the man who still, even without his powers, haunts her nightmares and her students' nightmares… well, that thought twists her stomach into terrified knots.
David knows that something is wrong. It's clear in the way he raises a questioning eyebrow, in the way he slips a protective arm around her waist as they walk towards Erik Lehnsherr, that David is picking up on the worry she's trying to hide. She smiles at him and squeezes his hand to reassure him that's she's alright, even though she really isn't.
"Good afternoon, Miss Walker." Erik Lehnsherr stands to greet them politely as they approach. And is she just being paranoid or is there the briefest touch of shark-like smugness in the smile he offers them?
She smiles back with chilling politeness. As David is so keen to teasingly remind her, she is English and in situations like this that means being completely, unfailingly, if somewhat coldly, polite. "Good Afternoon, Mr Lehnsherr. David, this is Erik Lehnsherr, an old friend of Professor Xavier's, you remember I told you about the Professor. Mr Lehnsherr this is David Taylor, a friend of mine." The arm David has around her waist makes it obvious that he's more than a friend but Magneto has clearly played this game of over-politeness before and makes no comment. She doesn't know whether David has played this game before, but he's good at picking up cues, and so he disengages his hand from around her waist and holds it out to Lehnsherr.
"Nice to meet you, Mr Lehnsherr."
They shake hands and exchange a few more pleasantries and then Natalie's phone rings. She frowns briefly in surprise before apologising and excusing herself to answer it. She takes a few steps away from the two men to answer the call, feeling somewhat - probably foolishly - nervous about moving even a few metres away from them. She suppresses a sigh as she sees that it's Ororo who's calling and somewhat bitterly she wonders what the kids have done this time.
A moment later she regrets that uncharitable thought.
"Say that again." Her words are quiet, but so sharp that they draw the attention of the two men making small talk nearby. She ignores them, because Storm cannot have just said what Natalie thinks she's just said, because they've been assured that the Cure is permanent, and a girl like Marie really should not have to go through this again.
"You're sure. I mean Rogue's sure. Yes, I appreciate that… But, there was nobody else around that could have caused it? Right… Have you spoken to Dr McCoy? Yes, I'm sure she's upset. Of course. I'll be back as soon as I ca…" She stops mid-word and all the colour drains out of her face as she turns and sees Erik Lehnsherr looking at her with a politely concerned frown on his face. Erik Lehnsherr. Magneto. Standing a mere metre away from David. Shit.
"Storm." She says the name slowly, trying to fight against the cold fear that's just grabbed her heart and squeezed. "I'm in the park with Magneto." There's silence on the other end of the phone for a very long moment. Natalie hears the unspoken 'What the hell are you doing in the park with Magneto?' but Storm has enough sense not to waste time with stupid questions. "I'll be there as soon as I can." Is what she says instead. Thank God.
Natalie fumbles the phone back into her handbag and tries to pull together some semblance of calm as she begins to move back towards the two men. She prepares herself to pretend nothing's wrong, but she's not taken more than two steps before she knows it's futile – Magento knows.
She sees the moment that he realises and the moment he realises that she knows that he knows; it all flickers across his eyes in a heartbeat.
In the next heartbeat there's a metal pawn in Magento's hand.
The heartbeat after that and the pawn is pressed against David's shirt, hovering there between his third and fourth ribs; right above his heart. It happens so fast that nobody else in the park has noticed anything amiss. Natalie is frozen with fear. David is staring down in shock at the small piece of metal resting so close to his vital organs. Magneto is just watching her, waiting for her to do something, say something. If there was space in her head to think she might realise that that is a little odd, as is the fact he's not smiling. If she'd thought about it at all she might have expected smugness, a sense of victory, from him in a situation like this, but he's oddly, almost grimly, calm.
Finally, she unfreezes enough to take another two steps forward. The pawn presses harder against David's chest. He sucks in a breath trying to move his skin away from the cold metal. Natalie stops moving. She feels her hands clench into fists by her side; the physical manifestation of the anger and fear that is now rolling off her in waves.
"What do you want?" She hisses.
Now, he smiles, but it's not smug or victorious, if anything it's slightly sad, almost regretful. He opens his mouth and says something, but she won't remember what.
In fact, she won't remember anything else until she and David wake up in a stolen car, three weeks later and 200 hundred miles away, by the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. There will be a band of metal wrapped around David's throat and Natalie will have one the worst headache she's ever had: it will feel like her skull is being split in two.
Neither of them will have any recollection of what happened after Magneto smiled.
XXXXXX
It will only be years later, after the world has gone to hell… when she has tears streaming down her face… when her throat is raw from screaming her grief to the world… when David's life blood is soaking into her clothes… when she finds herself drowning in grief and wishing with all her soul that she could go back and change things, that she could just stop this hell from happening. It will only be then, when she is knee deep in blood and mud and pain, that the walls in her mind will come crashing down and she'll finally remember what happened…
Seventeen days after that, with a single-mindedness honed by grief, she will succeed in tracking down Magneto.