Dreams of the Enigma
What do you know about me?" Erik had once growled at Charles. With only a slight sad
reaction the telepath had replied, "Everything." Those words still rang in Erik's ears and in his
mind. No one really knew him and now this childish, geeky and rich brat of a genius was going
to make that assumption? Well who really knew Charles Xavier? Not even Rayven he feared
truly knew and understood his 'dear friend'. This was not a fair arrangement and Erik fully
intended to do whatever it took to find the skeletons in the all too perfect and pretty little man's
closet. As Erik watched Charles run drills with Shaun he had to be impressed, the man was a
great teacher.
Teaching and handling adolescents was a something perplexing and not easy for Erik but his
friend seemed to slip into the role with an ease and grace that was a contradiction in his eyes.
Charles was pampered and had everything in life handed to him before he even knew he
needed it, coming from old aristocratic money. But the man was selfless in how much time he
gave the children and how hard he tried to make Cerebro work. Erik had never met a seemingly
more pure soul and he refused to believe it. There was only one way to find out more about the
man who he was supposed to trust with his life now. He would talk to his sister Rayven, she
had to know more about their family and how Charles really was behind the mask of
compassion.
"Erik, come on and join us I think you could benefit from this mental exercise as well my
friend!" Charles called out, his light brown curls laying about his head in a sweaty heap. And
was it Erik's imagination or did the other man look really tired? Well they were all tired Erik
supposed as he waved at Charles and walked over. Damn Charles and his superiority, he was
going to find the darkness in this man who claimed he was going to save him.
It had taken a few days in order to get Rayven away from Charles long enough to talk to her.
Now she was sitting on a bench outside the mansion and in the Gardens. She was reading the
latest poems that Charles had given her to study, convinced that if she just read more poetry
she would grow to like it. From the pained look on her lovely face, her brother was wrong about
that.
"If you're here to distract me from the Irish over dramatic mush of Yeats please do." Rayven
said as she looked up at Erik. Her blond hair was lovely in the sun but it wasn't the real her, so
Eric refused to comment on it.
"Well then, if you want distraction I'll give it to you. Tell me everything you know about your
brother." Erik said and then let their shoulders bump together companionably.
"First you flirt with me and now you want the low down on my brother, are you trying to give me
the wrong impression?" Rayven teased but then laughed.
"I suppose he isn't really all the easy to get to know as it would seem. He has friends he's
known for years that still know basically nothing about him." Rayven began and then looked at
Erik with indecision for a moment on her beautiful young and human face.
"Why d you want to know? I am very protective of Charles and if you intend him any harm Erik I
will make sure you dearly regret it." Rayven told him her eyes calm and totally sincere. Erik had
little doubt that she wouldn't make good on her threat.
"I need to know more about the man I'm supposed to be trusting. I don't normally trust anyone
and what he already knows about me.." Erik didn't know why he was telling Rayven this but he
thought that perhaps she would understand, thrown out by her own frightened parents and
having to hide herself in order to survive.
"Well we all have to start somewhere, all I can say is that I trust Charles Xavier and he has
never given me cause to regret it. If you want to know more you're just going to have to ask
him your self." And with that Rayven closed her book and walked away, leaving behind a
silenced and annoyed Erik. Fine, he would ask Charles, but it wouldn't be devoid of any
pleasantries that was for damned sure! He would demand his answers, that was the only way
to make sure he got what he needed. It was the only thing he could count on, to take what he
needed and crush anyone in his way.
Over the week Erik made several attempts to get information from Charles. The first time was
when he noticed Charles in the study reading with a glass of brandy in his hand. Erik watched
as the telepath but the glass down and rest his head back on the cushions, breathing hard as if
he was in pain and put his hand to his head. Well he certainly couldn't interrogate the man now
could he? It surprised Erik to find that it troubled him to see that the young man hurt because of
his abilities. But it made sense, the human mind taxed to such a level as Charles' day after day,
it had to be catch with him.
"Hey, " Erik said dumbly as he sat down in the chair by Charles on a whim. Charles looked up
and then the pain on his face melted away to revel a warm smile.
"Erik, would you like a drink?" Charles asked as he put his book down beside the chair.
"Alright, just one." Erik replied sitting down as his friend stood up and made the drink and set it
into the man's hand. Instead of an interrogation it ended up a chess match, and a challenge on
who can spout more philosophy at each other.
"Charles I don't see how Plato's ideas on how a society should run was any different than
Natzi Germany." Erik spat now sipping on his second drink.
"It's about learning to live in peace with what you are and accepting others and their
limitations and gifts. Of course it wasn't perfect but there are some good lessons there to be
learned."Charles argued in his soft tone. The more he drank the less he seemed to put his hand
to his head or winced as if he was in pain.
"You Charles Xavier are an idealist and I despise them worst of all."
"You don't despise me Erik." Charles answered and his eyes seemed to say, 'but I know what
you do despise even if you are blind to it'.
"Good night." Erik practically growled and then left the room to go to bed, well that hadn't
exactly gone as he had hoped now had it?
It took a few days before Erik would get the chance to try again to get more information about
his friend. But every time it ended the same, Charles learning more about him and Erik learning
nothing at all. It was maddening! But somehow Erik found that he couldn't bring himself to miss
a nightly chess match with his friend, both drinking and talking. Sometimes they said nothing at
all as they played in companionable silence. Perhaps it was the fact that Charles always
seemed to be alone in that room that made him do it, Erik wasn't quite sure. But the next night
after he left Charles in the study to finish his drink and reading, he decided that his original idea
was best, he was going to demand his answers and it was going to be tonight.
Erik went back to his room and pulled out his gun that Charles had no idea he still
possessed and loaded it. He was done being at the mercy of anyone and if Charles wouldn't tell
him anything that would put them on more even ground then he would take it. With
determination Erik went back down the stairs and to the study where he had left the other man
not but minutes before. Erik raised his gun as he entered the room and was about to shout his
demands when he stopped. Charles was softly snoring, fast asleep on the chair his empty glass
still in his hand.
"Oh for the love of God." Erik muttered as he looked at the man who seemed so small and
young as he slept. It touched something in the other man who hadn't ever felt that innocent or
young in his life. Slowly Erik came forward and placed the blanket that was on the couch over
Charles sleeping form. By pure accident his fingers touched his friends pale warm skin of his a
arm.
Immediately Erik felt disoriented and realized that he was seeing through some one elses eyes.
A shorter person, no it was a child, and then Erik realized that he was seeing through Charles
eyes, looking into the man's dreams! Quickly Erik pulled his hand away and shivered slightly as
his mind focused back to his own point of view. After the shock wore off Erik thought this was
the opportunity that he had been looking for. After all Charles hadn't even noticed he was there
or even bothered to wake up! Carefully Erik reached out his hand again and placed it on his
friend's naked arm.
Charles is small for his age, he's six and is walking down the stairs in an excited manner. It's
been weeks since his parents have been home an even then he only got to see them for one
dinner. They had promised to be home for today, especially today! Charles reached the bottom
of the stairs and stopped as if he had hit a wall. The Christmas tree was decorated elaborately
and there were so many presents under it, it seemed as if they were meant for five families not
just one. But the two people he had been looking forward to seeing and spending the day with
weren't there. Sarah the nanny sat on the couch and turned to the little boy.
"I'm sorry, they were needed on urgent business, but they promised to be back in few more
days. They told me to tell you Merry Christmas." Sarah replied, her eyes bright and moist, she
looked sad at the devastated look on Charles's face.
"It's alright, they're always late, we can play today instead." Charles murmured wiping the tears
from his eyes. Erik wanted to comfort the young boy, hug him or something but he couldn't
really manipulate anything in this realm that was his friend's mind. But Erik was sad for the boy
left behind. He had many years alone without his parents but he knew it was against their will
and still loved him.
Then the scene faded and changed to an elaborate cocktail party and Charles now ten and only
slightly taller, but he looked tired for his age, dark circles around his youthful blue eyes. Charles
was excited since it was during these parties that his parents were actually home for a few
days. And his parents had actually invited him to be there, for a few hours anyway. He hoped
that this meant they wanted to include him, and had missed him while they were away. Charles
dressed very sharply which seemed to match his very soft and British feature very well. Charles
looked up as his mother called his name.
"Charles there you are, I would like you to meet Mr and Mrs. Granger, This is our Charles,
he's doing very well in his studies, he's been labeled a genius you know." The tall blond woman
said in a thick upper class London accent.
"It's very nice to meet you young man now I've been told you've been studying psychology and
modern genetics, well those are might big subjects for a small lad such as your self." Mr.
Granger, a plump middle aged man with a black hair and mustache said in a mocking tone.
"Oh so I've been told, but did you know that a mutation in a singe gene causes genetic
disorders to occur? "
"No son I didn't.." Mr. Granger said in surprise and then Charles was stuck the entire evening
explaining basic principles of genetics to a room full of rich morons. But Charles didn't mind, it's
what his parents wanted after all. And after this party was over his parents would be here to
tuck him in and say goodnight. Finally the last guest left and the servants were cleaning up the
dishes and re-sweeping and mopping the floors. Charles watched his parents walk up the stairs
to their room without another word to him. And if he knew them well enough, they would be
gone again in the morning. So for two hours he got to be 'their Charles' and then they just left
him like they always did. With tears in his eyes the young boy went to his room and got out of
the stupid clothes and threw them on the floor. Let the maid deal with it later, he thought
moodily as he put on his pajamas. He was no ones Charles, he didn't need them, not anymore
he wouldn't hope again or even care. He sat down with a book to crawl into a make believe
world when one of his bad headaches started. It always started small in the back of the neck
and then just grew until his head felt like it was going to explode. Charles groaned and held his
head as he sat down on the floor and pretended that he wasn't weeping.
"Charles?" A a small young girls voice sounded as the door opened.
"Go away." Charles said through his sobs but Rayven came in anyway and ran over to him.
"One of the bad ones huh?" Rayven said and then brought her brother's head to rest on her
shoulder and just let him stay there until it passed.
Erik brought his hand away from Charles' arm and was relived to be seeing out of his own
eyes again. Charles was the lonely prince, who's only comfort when he was in pain and scared
was his adopted sister? There was so much reason for anger at his parents and yet Charles
didn't even act as if he had anger. It was more as if he was trying to get as many other lost and
lonely souls around him as he could. It didn't make sense to Erik at all, but it did bring a few
things to light. But only a few and Erik now more than ever wanted to know more. But not right
now, he needed time to clear his head before going back into Charles' head again. Erik turned
and walked away, satisfied that he had a way in which was only fair after all, wasn't it?
The next day Erik spent the day by himself as tried to contemplate what he had learned. But it
was almost dinner times and Erik looked out his window to watch the last lesson of the day
happening outside. The sun was set low now and the colors were blending together softly, as if
nature was truly a gentle entity. But Erik and those they were training knew that nature was
only power that felt nothing for those under it's wrath. He knew that Charles didn't really
understand that the humans were the same, they will not care that mutants are helping them.
They will only fight what they they fear will replace them. Charles was an enigma that he had
only begun to truly see. He needed more, part of him yearned for more of that contact with his
friend and to be able to see more inside the man who could look through anyone like a poet
with the hearts and minds of men his pen and parchment. From the stance Charles took now as
he talked to his students about what they were going to be expected to do the next day, Erik
thought that it was the look of an artist gazing at his masterpieces. Charles was damned
terrifying and at the end of the day, he was glad he had the man on his side. And yet this
powerful mutant couldn't see what was really threatening them. Perhaps it would be Erik that
would save Charles, maybe he could save them all.
Late at night the mansion was cold and too large in the dark as Erik walked the hallways to find
Charles' room. It felt to Erik like it was going to engulf him like a black hole. However he wasn't
about to complain after so many years being strapped down and tortured and then stuck in
small spaces with so many other people that were alive and even some that were dead. Those
faces of the ones that lived still haunted him more than the ones already dead. They looked like
corpses already and they stared out blankly, trying not to think or feel anything. Erik
understood this, and he hated them for it and hated himself for letting them do that to him as
well. Finally he reached the right room and listened at the door, Charles was asleep he could
tell because there were no sounds of turning pages. Erik slowly opened the door and walked
inside,as he had suspected his friend was asleep with his arm over his eyes, probably to fight
off another headache. It pained Erik to see Charles look so pale and warn after a session with
the machine, some days Hank feared that the man was going to faint and get trapped inside.
But the telepath loved every moment he spent with the machine, it made him feel more
powerful. Erik wanted to scoff at that, like Charles Xavier needed any more power. Slowly Erik
reached out and touched his friend's arm again.
Instantly the world faded and he was now sitting at a large oak desk as a teenage Xavier
pouring over newspaper articles and cutting out what he thought was relevant. 'man lifts a car
off of trapped wife.' 'soldier survived ten bullets, a miracle!' and placed them into his research
scrap book, making notes beside them. There was a letter half written on the young man's
desk. 'The worst of man has been shown to us through what was done to the Jews. Let the
future generations show the best in humanity.' was scribbled there as if it was a reminder. So
Charles hadn't ignored the Jewish genocide like so many had. Only his view was trying to make
sense of their suffering by wanting peace. His friend was an idealist, he still couldn't understand
that man was weak and was a savage animal. But still, it was a nice thought, a future that was
never meant to be if the mutants were going to survive. Then the door opened and the
caretaker walked in, her eyes shining with tears.
"Charles, I'm so sorry, but your parents- they're dead. The assassin came out of no where and
shot them." The woman said softly and her breaths shaky as she covered her mouth. It was
surprising how numb the teen felt as he went about the process of taking over as head of the
estate. He had no time to grieve and he wasn't even sure if he would. Charles' parents had
become nothing but a distant phone call, and visits here and there. But as he helped go
through his parents old files and read his parents notes about their work he realized that things
were more complicated than he had believed. His parents truly believed that what they were
doing was important. So important that they left their son behind to help keep the world from
falling into another devastating war.
So when the funeral came, he stood there in his father's old suit and placed the dirt of the
moist soil from the ever constant England rain on their casket. Not feeling as bitter as he once
had as he watched them disappear into the dark earth.
"I won't give up on them either." Charles promised and then as the last flowers were laid, he let
his tears finally fall and left to compose himself before the gathering later that evening.
Erik felt as if he truly started to get at the heart of Charles, and he couldn't describe what he
felt. The man was impossible and naive, no one actually believed the way his friend seemed to,
did they? It made it all seem strangely real now.
"Have you seen enough my friend?" Charles' soft voice called out and suddenly the man was
right in front of him.
"Charles I-"
"All you had to do was ask and I would have told you anything you wanted to know." Charles
said when Erik faltered due to his shock. Of course his friend had known he was there, he
hadn't found a way in, he had been given it.
"Why?" Erik asked sincerely, not able to understand why Charles would choose to share these
things with him when the telepath was powerful enough to have shut him out from the
beginning.
"Why do you ask a question to which you already know the answer?" Charles asked his face so
full of caring that it made Erik look away in shame. In an instant the telepath came forward and
embraced Erik and brought their lips together. In that instant Erik wanted to fight to get away
but he suddenly felt a warmth surrounding him and realized that it was the emotion that was
radiating from Charles like the steam of a hot bath in the winter. Erik brought his arms around
the other man and kissed and held him there instead.
This doesn't change anything, I'm still going to kill Shaw. I still don't believe the way you do in this
world.
I know, it doesn't matter.
And then both men were back to reality, Erik was laying beside Charles and holding him as they
continued to kiss. Once they broke apart both men were panting for breath.
"If you don't want-" but Charles next words were cut off when Erik's lips collided with his once
more furiously, almost angry. At that moment he realized why he had been so fixated on his
quest for more information about Charles. It was only in part to learn to trust his friend and
make things even between them. All along, at least in part, it had about them, how they fit and
it confused Erik who never connected with anyone like this.
"Let's just take what we can tonight," Erik whispered and traced his fingers through Charles'
soft hair. Their bodies were so close and he could feel that Charles did indeed want this, they
were both shaking and terrified. It was easy to tell from the way Charles only shakily nodded
his head and kissed Erik's neck. Erik flicked his hand and the door locked as midnight rang
though the mansion from the old grandfather clock. The witching hour, and Erik would keep this
man safe even from himself. There would be no needle in Charles' arm branding him only a
number, a dead number, or fear that turns to a brokenness in the man's beautiful soft blue eyes
from the knowledge that he controlled nothing. Now there would only be moans and clothes
shed in a bed shared. Tonight there was nothing keeping them apart as long as they were
silent and let their bodies communicate without words or powers.
-End-