A/N: One of my favorite people, lusciousmalloy, requested an interesting prompt: "A confrontation between the X-Men and Brotherhood becomes uncomfortably tense when Professor X and Magneto see each other for the first time since the beach."
Now, I wasn't quite sure how to handle this one, so this is what I got. Enjoy...?
It's been damn near ten years since they have last seen one another.
Magneto has his own miniature cult following him; the Brotherhood, they are deemed. It's one way of feeling like a sort of half-formed family fighting for the "better cause" than what they truly are, a bundle of uniform people looking for a place in the world, trying to make a name for themselves.
Professor X, on the other hand, nearing his forties but still clinging to the years of his late thirties and the last years he most likely will have a full head of hair without greys or, worse, bald spots, has formulated a rather strongly running institute. His own fighting force crafted from his top, eldest students, are known as the X-Men to everyone else. And they are a family, and they are tryign to fight for the "better cause," but they, too, are also a uniform group of people looking for a place in the world, hoping to makeless of a name for themselves.
For the past few years, the Brotherhood and X-Men have clashed on their own terms sporadically, some members of each coming across one another or trying to recruit the same mutant or go to the same location for whatever reason, one always trying to stop the other, pitted like rival dogs in a brawl.
However, the air becomes incredibly tense when, for once, the groups meet on neutral ground for the first time with their leaders at their centers.
Magneto steps forward first, and a rush of guilt and regret and something defensive and ugly can be felt rolling off of him in waves.
Professor X bats away hands — Cyclops', Wolverine's, Storm's, Jean's — and murmurs inside each of their heads, No, I must do this alone.
The telepath wheels himself out to meet his former ally with a stoic expression on his usually open face. His blue orbs take in Magneto from head to toe for a second, and there is an audible crackle of electricity in the air. The tension is so thick that Storm has unconsciously conducted a lightning storm overhead. No one pays it any mind, and no one asks her to stop, and she doesn't notice it herself.
It's uncomfortable, the silence. The X-Men exchange glances.
"Do you think they're having some sort of mental argument?" Cyclops asks of Jean.
She shakes her head. "No, I would hear it if they were. Instead, Scott, they're just… staring at one another, wondering multiple things, like what they've each become, what they will have to do now, and how long it's been, and…" She clears her throat, shutting off her own telepathy to look Scott in the visor. "How much they still care about each other despite all of this."
"…Huh?" Cyclops questions, a frown over his special glasses, but he doesn't pry. He instead looks at Logan for a moment, and then back at the enemy across the way. They're in the middle of an abandoned street, and it feels… eerie.
"Erik," Charles says softly, and his face is unreadable, and he doesn't have many lines on his face yet, only a few extra worry ones on his forehead.
"Charles," the metalbender regards with similar softness to his octave, but not in his tone. He removes his cape and drapes it over his arm. He isn't wearing the helmet today, oddly enough, but he can tell that Charles isn't skimming his mind in the least.
"You look well," Charles remarks. He raises a brow. "Are we going to fight today?"
"As do you," Erik replies. "And no, we are not. I was just leaving."
"Why? Didn't you come here for something?" Charles challenges, rolling his chair a couple inches forward.
Erik has a pained expression on his face as he looks down at the movement, but it's gone as soon as their eyes reconnect. "You being here changes thing. I will pursue my intentions another day."
"Why does my presence change things?" Charles tries again, this time coming closer, and Erik takes an unusually hasty step backward, his gaze adverted.
"I won't answer that. Return to your little X-Men, Charles. I don't want to hurt you… further."
"Oh, is that it? You think I can't handle myself? Well I've got news for you: just because I'm in this chair doesn't mean I can't —"
"I don't doubt that, old friend," Erik quips sharply, his eyes back on Charles', stunning the man in place. His voice softens along with his face. "I know you can handle yourself. You always could better than I with myself," and he smiles bitterly. "But these terms, after so many years? I can't do this, Charles. Do I'm leaving."
"If you couldn't take this now, then why did you ever leave?" Charles hurls at Magneto's retreating back, and both sides onlooking the scene tense up in the shoulders, and even the Brotherhood doesn't blame the professor for saying it, since a few of them remember; particularly Mystique, so much so that she has to look away, Raven-like tears she hasn't felt in years rising to her eyes. She blinks them away, one escaping and falling down her proudly blue cheek.
Magneto stops. He purposely distracts himself by slowly replacing his cape on his shoulders. "I didn't know it would go this far," he whispers. He turns and faces Charles then, seeing hurt in the handicapped man's eyes, and his heart aches. "I didn't know that would happen to you, and I didn't think this would become war between our pupils. I didn't want this, Charles. I wanted something bigger, something better. But," and he laughs sadly, "You and I always were too much of idealists, weren't we? Because I also thought killing Shaw would make me feel better about my mother's death. But it's worse, because I am Shaw now, aren't I?"
And not quite everyone understands this final tidbit, but Charles and Mystique do, and they both bow their heads.
Mystique is the one to speak up first. "You're better than he was, Erik. Your plans aren't as destructive."
"No, but they might be one day, won't they?" Charles adds, and his voice is hard but it's all to steel himself, keeping him from crying, and all of the X-Men know it.
Magneto says nothing. No one had thought he would.
Part of Charles wants to rush up to his friend and do something — punch him? embrace him? — and part of him is rooted to the spot for more reasons that one. So he does nothing, and no one thought he would, either.
Magneto leaves, everyone tagging along after him.
Professor X sighs heavily and turns to his own group, telling them to ready the jet; it's time to head home.
"But what about the mutant we came to retrieve?" Jean asks softly.
"I think we will have another chance. Sometimes tells me Erik has given up on this particular venture."
And the red-haired young woman can see his pain as clear as day, and can hear echoes of his thoughts as he leaks them purposely to her. And she can see it: this encounter wounded him, because part of him still has feelings for the dark man who just left, despite all that's happened.
And Jean's heart breaks a little for him, because the tension hasn't quite left the air, but the energy has definitely left her teacher's body. She grabs the handles of his chair and leads him up into the jet.
No one asks any questions, and the Brotherhood in particular makes sure to keep out of their leader;s way for the rest of the day, because now he's in quite the ill temper.