Author's Note: This is my first X-Men fan fiction. I enjoyed the first four movies and the cartoon back in the day, but I absolutely loved First Class. Michael Fassbender's portrayal of Erik Lehnsherr was especially impressive and inspired me to do a rewrite of First Class with an OC love interest for Erik. Some of the plot and timelines may differ from the movie to work with this story.
I truly appreciate any thoughts or feedback. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of the X-Men comics or films.
Erik's lungs were burning. Schmidt—or Shaw—or whatever the hell that bastard called himself these days was within his grasp. He just needed to pull a little bit harder, and then he could end this.
But spots were beginning to appear in front of his eyes. The muscles in his fingers were cramping as he strained to hold back the escaping submarine, yet nothing that he did seemed to make any difference. The vessel just kept moving farther away from him.
Erik couldn't bear it—to be so close to retribution and to fail once more. His rage consumed him. He was determined to stop his mother's murderer now or to die in the attempt; he wouldn't settle for less. He focused his energy on the submarine once more, but he could tell that his earlier efforts had left him drained. It seemed as if the ship were pulling him now, but that didn't matter to him. He clung to the magnetism of the vessel with all he had left and accepted that it might mean his death.
Suddenly, a voice broke his concentration. It entered his mind and told him to stop this madness—only it was no voice Erik had ever known. At first, he thought it was a hallucination from the lack of oxygen. Then, the voice materialized into two arms enveloping him and pulling him toward the surface, away from Shaw. The voice—apparently belonging to a Charles Xavier—claimed to understand him and know what losing Shaw meant to him, but Erik doubted that. If Charles truly knew him, then he would have let him drown, rather than make him live with this defeat.
They finally broke the surface, and Erik gasped for breath. The oxygen may have helped his body physically, but it did little to stem the disappointment and fury that welled within him at the sight of Shaw's submarine diving further into the depths.
Despite his frustration, Erik did find some comfort in hearing Charles say that he was not alone, that there were others in the world with gifts. Part of Erik brimmed with curiosity. What could these others do? How many were there? Shaw had obviously found several of them based on the people that Erik had seen on the boat, but this thought simply served to remind Erik that Shaw and his mutant puppets had managed to escape.
"Wait," Charles said, as he put two fingers up to the side of his head. "There's something still on the ship."
Erik turned to survey the wreck behind them. Its upper deck looked like a heap of broken boards and twisted metal, but the ship was still afloat. It seemed possible that some of the interior was still intact, and if so, one of Shaw's lackeys could still be hiding inside. Erik's heart began pumping more rapidly as he realized that all hope might not be lost. The person onboard might know Shaw's next move, and Erik would do whatever was necessary to obtain that information.
"I can't get a clear reading," Charles continued. "I need to get onboard to investigate."
But Erik was already one step ahead of him. With his mind, he sought out the anchor's massive metal chain. He drew it in close to himself and Charles and began to raise it from the water. Once it was within reach, Erik grabbed hold of the chain and instructed Charles to do the same. He then lifted the chain toward the ship so that they could jump onto the deck.
Erik would usually do this sort of work alone. This was his mission, his score to settle, but he saw the advantages to having someone like Charles along. The younger man had already peered into Erik's mind and had seemed to do so with little difficulty. If Erik couldn't get the information he needed from Shaw's man through threats or pain, he thought that Charles might be able to get to it using his ability.
"This way," Charles indicated as he took the lead, guiding them through the ship's corridors and around debris.
"Can you sense anything about the person onboard?" Erik asked, hoping that Charles' gift might give them an upper hand in whatever sort of fight lay ahead.
"No," Charles replied honestly. "I'm not even sure it's a person that I'm sensing."
"You mean there might not be anyone here? How do you know your way around if you're not following someone's mind through the ship?" Erik demanded.
"I'm sensing something, and I can focus on finding my way to that something; it's just that this something is unlike anything I've ever sensed before," Charles explained as they headed deeper into the ship. "It's not like a normal human mind where I can hear a regular stream of consciousness, and it's not like Shaw's telepath either. I actually felt her forcibly pushing me out of her mind earlier. Whatever this is, it feels more like something camouflaged—something that doesn't want to be found."
"How can you find something that's hiding like that—even with your ability?"
"I think the camouflage must be weakening. It's given me enough random images to know the layout of the ship, but not enough to know what we're dealing with."
Erik desperately wanted to know what Charles was sensing. If it was something that Shaw was trying to keep hidden, then Erik wanted to lay claim to it—either to destroy or to use it against Shaw. He may not have had the vengeance he'd wanted tonight, but Erik was still determined to make Shaw suffer somehow.
"You need to stay focused," Charles said. "We don't know what we'll face ahead, and only thinking of revenge won't help us."
Erik was caught off guard by Charles' sudden comment. Even though Erik knew of Charles' gift, it was still surprising to hear him respond to unspoken words. On top of that, it was bothersome to Erik that this young man had free access to the thoughts and emotions that he had spent years learning to conceal.
"Yes, everyone who knows my secret tends to dislike that their thoughts are no longer private, but I try to limit reading people's minds only to those moments when it is absolutely necessary," Charles explained. "And going through enemy territory with an illusive figure potentially lurking about seems like an appropriate moment."
"I can't find fault in that," Erik replied. He knew that if he had Charles' ability, he would be using it now too.
"Glad we're on the same page," Charles quipped, but suddenly his demeanor became more serious. He closed his eyes, and once again his fingertips returned to his forehead. After a moment, he turned to Erik and said, "Someone new just arrived."
"Who is it?"
"I'm not sure. He keeps jumping around the ship, and his mind is being guarded by Shaw's telepath," Charles replied. "It feels like there's a fortress around his thoughts, but it doesn't seem impenetrable. I think the telepath may be having trouble sustaining a mental shield from this distance."
"Good," Erik stated coolly. If Shaw's telepath couldn't interfere, it would make it easier for them to interrogate the new arrival.
"We'll question him, but we won't harm him unless we have to," Charles said firmly as he lowered his hand and began walking once more. "He might simply be some misguided mutant who's just following Shaw's orders."
Erik scoffed. He hated the phrase 'just following orders.' He knew what men were capable of when they just followed orders, and he knew that they deserved to be punished for their actions. Erik thought he would receive another scolding from Charles for these opinions, but there was no opportunity for it. When they rounded the next corner, Charles held up his hand to halt them.
"He just went in there," Charles whispered, pointing to a nearby doorway. Both he and Erik quietly crept towards the entrance and peered inside. Before them was a large cargo hold, disheveled from the earlier attack but still to Erik it resembled Shaw's offices at the concentration camp. Spread throughout the room, there were sharp instruments of various shapes and sizes—some still coated with the blood of past victims—and examination tables equipped with bindings.
Among these devices of torture, Erik quickly spotted the mutant that had just arrived. He looked like the devil incarnate with bright red skin and a pointed tail. The mutant was turned away from the doorway where Erik and Charles stood, apparently focused on something on the other side of the room.
"Did you honestly think your interference was going to keep me out?" the mutant hissed. Erik followed his gaze and saw that the question was directed to a woman on the floor across the room. She was sitting with her legs bent to her side and her hands behind her back. Her clothes were torn and dirty, and her pale skin was marred with bruises and dried blood. Around her neck was a metal collar linked to the far wall by a thick chain.
"It was worth a shot," she replied, keeping her steely grey eyes focused on the red mutant.
"Shaw wouldn't let his favorite new pet go so easily. Besides, you're nowhere near as powerful as Frost—it was only a matter of time before she and I got through your pathetic defenses," the mutant retorted.
"I may not be as powerful as the ice bitch, but I'm still strong enough to stop you from taking me to Shaw," the woman stated. "If you even try it, I'll see to it that we end up a mile deep in the Atlantic or in the middle of some wall."
"Doing that would kill the both of us," the red mutant said.
"Better dead than Shaw's prisoner," she said determinedly.
"Well, if that's how you're going to behave," the mutant replied, picking up a broken pipe from the floor and moving closer to the woman, "I think we should see how much damage you can do while you're unconscious."
She sat unflinchingly as the other mutant raised the pipe to strike her, but suddenly the pipe flew from his hand straight into Erik's, who was now standing inside the room.
"Didn't anyone tell you it's not nice to hit a lady?" Erik asked harshly, the anger apparent in his voice.
"Erik, don't do anything rash," Charles advised from behind him, but knives and scalpels were already floating around the room, all pointed toward Shaw's minion.
"How sweet," the red mutant said, turning toward Erik. "It looks as if someone's come to rescue you."
"Tell me where Shaw is going and I may let you live," Erik demanded.
The mutant laughed menacingly in response. "You think your threats frighten me?"
"Azazel, don't do this!" Charles shouted, stepping forward.
"How do you know that name?" Azazel asked, looking puzzled.
"All of us are the same here. We're all gifted," Charles replied. "I can see your thoughts. Deep down, you are a good person; you've just been misled by Shaw. I can see the promises he's made to you, and the things he's made you do."
"If you can see that," Azazel began, "then you must be able to see that I enjoy my current occupation."
"I can see that you enjoy the acceptance Shaw offers you, but you don't have to do Shaw's bidding to find that," Charles pleaded before turning to Erik and mentally asking him to lower the weapons.
Erik released a frustrated sigh as his eyes went from Charles to the mutant Azazel. "Do you yield?" he asked.
Azazel smirked, his hand reaching for something on his belt as he said, "Never." Then, in an instant, he was gone.
Simultaneously, the woman screamed, "No!" and then shut her eyes tightly. Erik and Charles felt the air rustle behind them and turned around to see that the red mutant had reappeared ten feet from them. Azazel had a sword drawn, and the moment he'd materialized, he took a swing through the air as if he'd expected a target to be there. Yet his sword didn't connect with anything and his eyes were filled with fury.
"Bitch!" Azazel yelled. "You can't misdirect me forever." He disappeared again only to end up across the room with his feet at least a yard off the floor. It was clear that the woman was somehow disrupting Azazel's movements but couldn't completely stop them. As the red mutant was falling, he vanished again, this time reappearing next to Erik's floating knives. Azazel grabbed one of the instruments and threw it at the woman before evaporating once more.
Erik let the other objects fall to the floor and focused on the knife headed toward the woman. He stopped it, but not before it had interrupted her concentration. Azazel suddenly materialized right in front of Erik, and his sword nicked Erik's neck before Erik had gained control over the blade.
"That was foolish," Erik said as he moved the sword with his mind to press against Azazel's neck. At first, the other mutant struggled, but then it looked as if his body was relaxing, accepting its current predicament. Erik thought it peculiar until he saw Charles out of the corner of his eye with his fingers to his forehead yet again.
"You don't want to do this," Charles stated.
"I don't want to do this," Azazel replied with a blank expression on his face. Erik was impressed. Charles appeared to have full control over the other mutant.
"Tell us about Shaw," Charles commanded.
"Shaw…Shaw…" Azazel mumbled. "Shaw ordered me to get the girl… She knows too much and is too valuable…She…She…" Suddenly the fog lifted from the mutant's eyes, and he practically growled at Charles and Erik before using his ability to jump to the other side of the room. He was right behind the woman, grabbing the chain at her neck and cutting it from the wall.
Azazel looked up to smirk at Charles and Erik once more. Erik knew what the other mutant was going to do and knew that he didn't have much time. He quickly focused on the links of the chain, managing to break them just as Azazel disappeared again. Thankfully, Erik's actions had worked—the woman was still there.
"We need to move in case he comes back," Charles said before hurrying over to the woman. Erik was two steps behind him.
The woman struggled against her bindings as they approached, and Charles immediately tried to reassure her. "We don't mean you any harm. I'm Charles Xavier, and this is Erik Lehnsherr. We're here to help."
"You're here for Shaw," she replied, still trying to get free. "And while I wish you the best of luck with that, I just need to get the hell out of here."
Erik now stood only a few feet from her and could see more of the damage done. The back of her shirt was shredded, and the lash marks there still looked raw where a whip had been brought down on her skin. Her long brown hair was streaked with dark red blood, and her grey eyes held an expression of exhaustion, pain, and fear. After taking in this sight, Erik felt his hatred for Shaw renewed and quickly removed the shackles from the woman's hands and the collar from her neck using his ability.
"Thank you," she said, looking up at Erik as she gently rubbed the bruised skin of her neck. From her accent, Erik could tell she was American, and she appeared to be in her mid-twenties.
"We need to get you medical attention," Charles said.
"No," she replied firmly. "I don't want medical attention."
"Why not? Can you heal yourself?" Charles asked, his curiosity apparent.
"No," she answered, turning back to Charles. "But your mind's an open book, Professor. I have no interest in receiving medical attention from your government friends and then becoming their lab rat."
"It wouldn't be like that," Charles tried to convince her. "I'm trying to make the government understand that, despite what Shaw might do, mutants shouldn't be feared. You can help me with that." Charles' eyes went from the woman back up to Erik before he added, "Both of you can."
"Look," the woman began, "I can appreciate what you're trying to do, but it would be better for everybody if I were on my own. There's a chance that Shaw will come after me again, and if he does, he'll go for the people around me first. That's the way he works. You'll be safer if you just let me go."
Erik knew all too well what she was talking about. Shaw had killed Erik's mother just to get him to use his abilities as a boy. But now this habit of Shaw's suddenly seemed like it might be useful to Erik. If Shaw really was pursuing this woman, then Erik stood a good chance of finding him by staying close to her.
"That's a risky move," she said, and Erik noticed that she was now eyeing him suspiciously.
"No one's going to use you as bait," Charles stated. "But Erik does raise a good point. If Shaw does come after you, it would be to your benefit to have people around you who can protect you."
"I don't need protection," she retorted as she awkwardly got to her feet, clearly favoring her right leg. She then tried to grab a blanket off a nearby table, but she winced as she tried to move closer to it. Erik quickly grabbed the blanket and held it open for her.
"Your current circumstances beg to differ," he said, and she glared at him in response, snatching the blanket from him and throwing it over her shoulders herself, rather than allowing him to wrap her up in it.
"Just come with me for now," Charles said, trying to diffuse the growing tension. "We'll have your injuries seen to, you can tell us whatever you can about Shaw, and after that, if you still want to go, you'll be free to go. I give you my word."
She cast her face downward and closed her eyes for a few moments, contemplating her options. After a long period of silence, she looked back up at them and resignedly said, "Fine."
"Excellent," Charles replied, sounding almost giddy with excitement. "And I have to tell you, I had no idea how you were going to respond just now. I couldn't read your mind at all."
"I take it you don't have much experience with mental barriers then," she said.
"None. I'd never even met another telepath before tonight."
"Well, I'm told it can be quite unsettling the first time one of our kind encounters another," she replied.
"Wasn't it that way for you, the first time you sensed another telepath?" Charles asked eagerly
"I don't remember," she answered. "I was three."
"Your abilities manifested at age three? Extraordinary," Charles said, seemingly lost in a state of wonder. In fact, he seemed so caught up in the experience of meeting another telepath that he apparently forgot their current situation. Erik, however, remembered clearly what was going on, and he could tell that this wouldn't be the best place to make a stand against Shaw.
"I'm sorry," Charles said, seeming to come out of his reverie after Erik's thoughts. "I almost forgot where we were and that we need to get out of here."
"We should try to move quickly," Erik added as he met the woman's gaze. "With the state this ship is in, it won't be easy to traverse with an injured leg. You're going to need help."
She seemed hesitant about accepting his assistance, but eventually she nodded in assent. Erik then picked her up, trying to be careful of applying too much pressure to her injured back. Charles again took as the lead as they started making their way off the ship.
Surrounded by telepaths, Erik suddenly became very conscious of his thoughts. Although he tried not to, he couldn't help but wonder what Shaw had wanted from the woman in his arms and what had happened to her onboard the ship. An internal feud arose within his mind as he regarded the woman. A part of Erik wanted to question her until she told him all that she knew of Shaw and his plans—the part of him driven to torture and kill until he had his revenge. But another side of him was beginning to win out. He felt sympathy for this nameless woman who had been made to suffer at Shaw's hands just as he had. Yes, he wanted to use her to get to Shaw, but he also wanted to help her.
"Viola Curtis," she said as they neared the upper deck.
"What?" Erik asked.
"Among other things, you were just thinking that I'm nameless," she replied. "I was simply correcting you. My name is Viola Curtis."
Erik then realized that she had heard all of his thoughts, including the dark ones. "I won't hurt you, Miss Curtis," he said, "despite what my thoughts might tell you."
"Yes, you would," Viola replied frankly. "If it meant getting Shaw, I think you would be willing to hurt anyone."
Erik looked into her eyes after that comment. He expected anger or disgust to be there, yet he only saw acceptance and sympathy.
"To be honest with you, Mr. Lehnsherr, I think I can understand your motives," she continued. "I don't agree with them, mind you, but I understand them."
Erik then turned away from her gaze, appearing to focus on his footing. In actuality, he was trying to ignore both Viola's blunt honesty and her apparent willingness to overlook his brutal nature. He had never expected someone to understand his suffering and hate. He had also never shared these feelings with anyone the way he had tonight.
It was a new and strange experience for Erik to be surrounded by both Viola and Charles. They were his kind—mutants—unique and gifted. They also knew him—the real him—and yet, they didn't judge him. He had felt empty when Shaw escaped, but now with Viola and Charles, it felt as if something was filling the void. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Erik didn't feel alone.