A/N: Yeah, I lied. I said I wasn't gonna post anything new but as you can see, I'm in an X-Men mood so I decided to try my hand at a First Class AU. So, please read & review if you like it. Much obliged. I just wanted to clarify, I am aware that Magneto has three children (including one green-haired daughter) however, Lorna will not be his child in my story. She may be referenced but that is all. Also, Pietro doesn't have any special mental powers. His powers will stay as canon intended them to be. That is all. Some references in this chapter, see if you can spot them all!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in X-Men, either First Class or the original comics. They belong to Marvel. I make no profit from this fanfiction.
And everybody's telling me you look like me but please don't turn into me.
You look like me but you're not like me I hope.
I have run away from the one thing that I ever made.
Now I only wish that I could show you - wish I could show a little soul.
-A Little Soul, Pulp-
Chapter 2: Somebody Help Me
Erik was silent as they drove through the winding streets of Manhattan. His thoughts however were extremely loud.
"Erik, my friend, would you please stop shouting so loudly?" Charles asked, rubbing his temples to alleviate his headache.
"You're reading my mind again," Erik accused, eyes glancing to glare at his passenger.
"It's not like I can help it when you're projecting," Charles sighed, well used to this argument.
"Then would you please explain to me why you decided to go on this little excursion so early this morning?" Erik asked, annoyance colouring his tone.
"It's hardly early," Charles defended. "Besides you were already awake."
"That's because someone was banging at my door. Now, I thought we had enough students for your little team, so pray tell, why are we driving to meet more?" Erik asked, rolling his eyes.
"This one is special," Charles said after a few moments.
"Special?" Erik said, raising an eyebrow, "How so?"
"I intend to find that out," Charles answered.
"I see," Erik nodded. "And how did you find this 'extraordinary' mutant, hmm?"
"Cerebro, of course." Charles said, "it was amazing, my friend! I was tugged into the mutants mind and it was…the strangest and most incredible experience. I didn't even realize I could access that level of consciousness."
"Cerebro! Do you have some sort of suicidal wish, Charles? You promised that you wouldn't use that ridiculous machine in excess!" Erik growled, glaring at Charles.
"Really, Erik, it was hardly excessive," Charles waved off his friend's concern.
"Need I remind you that the last time you said that you were suffering from a migraine for four days."
"My own fault. I extended myself too far. I forgot my own limits." Charles said.
"You do not think you have any limits, Charles. That is the problem," Erik told him seriously.
"A life with limits is dull and boring. I much prefer the excitement of discovery."
For a moment, Charles saw Erik's jaw twitch and he was certain that he was going to get yelled at again but Erik's face relaxed into impassiveness and he went back to staring at the road. Charles sighed; he had already received a condensed version of the same lecture from Hank this morning. He understood that overtaxing himself using Cerebro was dangerous but Erik was sulking which is what he did when he wouldn't get his way. Charles sighed and placed his hand on Erik's knee.
"Erik, you are right. I should not have risked using Cerebro when I was so tired. It was a mistake and I'm sorry I worried you," he said, squeezing Eric's leg gently to show his sincerity.
"I was not worried," Eric muttered to himself, glancing down at the hand on his knee until Charles removed it and then went back to concentrating on his driving.
"Of course," Charles said, bemused and not believing his friend at all.
"Well, let's go find this mystery mutant of yours, shall we?" Erik cleared his throat.
"By all means," Charles waved his hand languidly and leaned back in his seat. His headache was beginning to withdraw although he still felt a bit foggy.
"Oh, and Charles?" Erik said, grip tightening on the steering wheel as they pulled in front of a greystone building. "Should you ever decide to use Cerebro like that again, without someone to make sure you do not end up bleeding from multiple orifices, I will cast you and it into the farthest sea, understand?"
"Of course, my friend," Charles said genially even though he was certain that Erik would carry out the threat. It was just the gruff way in which he showed that he cared.
"I suppose this is it?" Charles said, changing the subject as he opened the car door and got out. He heard the echoing slam from Erik's door as the other walked over to stand beside him. Charles looked over at the taller man before glancing up at the building. It wasn't anything special. Just a simple grey stone building with a painted black gate and a little gravel walkway. It had four windows with white curtains which hid the inside from any nosy passersby. Charles chose to go first and Erik dutifully followed like a shadow, up to the door and knocking on it, noticing that the plaque said: St. Andrew's Orphanage.
The door opened to reveal a shorter woman in a plain grey dress and sensible black shoes. Her eyes were bright blue although weathered by age that showed in her wrinkled skin yet still there was something almost resigned in her eyes and Charles could detect the tiniest bit of fear. Her hair was covered by a black kerchief but a few wisps of gray were protruding from the temple, escaping their bondage.
"Hello, I'm Charles Xavier and this is my associate Erik Lensherr," he said genially in his usual chipper tone.
"Sister Agatha, may I help you gentleman with anything?" The sister said shrewdly.
"We're actually here looking for someone, someone with very special abilities," Charles continued, watching her face closely. There was a brief recognition, her eyes widening in fear before her eyes grew shuttered. Still Charles caught the tiniest tendril of thought, a fearfully whispered name Wanda.
"There's no one here like that. This is just an orphanage for children. Please go away," she said, already closing the door but Charles's foot stuck in the doorway, preventing her from shutting the door in their faces.
"Please, we can help. Whatever you're frightened of, we can take care of it It's alright, now," Charles said soothingly, adding an extra push into her own thoughts. She nodded at him with a dazed look in her eyes, allowing him to push the door open and step inside.
"Why Charles, if you weren't so uptight, I would suggest that you had used your ability to get you behind locked doors before," Erik said, pitching his voice so that only Charles could hear.
Charles smirked, "who says I haven't?" Charles missed the brief grin on Erik's face as he turned to Sister Agatha, who was playing nervously with her hands.
"Now then, Sister, what's the problem here?" Charles asked politely.
Sister Agatha's eyes darted two and fro nervously and she took a steadying breath before saying, "it's this…girl. She's just…she's odd and sometimes when she gets angry….things will fly around the room, or the water will start to boil, and things..." The woman quickly crossed herself, continuing haltingly, "we tried…we called a priest, there must have been a demon in her but he-"
"You tried to exorcise a child?" Erik's angry tone surprised Charles for a moment thought it echoed his own horrified thoughts. He got the briefest of flashes of a terrified face, dark hair and bright, bright blue before he shook his head of the disturbing images.
"She wasn't," Sister Agatha paused growing flustered. "She's not a child, she's a demon. Last week, she hurt one of the other children. No one will take her and the only one who stays near her is her brother."
"She has a brother? Would this brother by any chance like Superman?" Charles perked up, certain that the mind he had been in had been male.
"Y-yes," Sister Agatha stammered out. "It's the only comics we allow the children to have, besides the Bible…But you're supposed to help us with the…girl."
"Of course, we will." Charles answered coolly, "It would be best if we got her as far away from you as possible, hmm? Take her somewhere far away, never to be seen again?"
"Yes, exactly, we don't condone that sort of…but-," Sister Agatha nodded her head quickly, wringing her hands even though the relief was palpable. "You should not let a sorceress live. Exodus 22:17."
"Ignorant humans, quoting your Bible even though you don't understand it, trying to justify your murders. She isn't a witch. If she is different and angry, it's because you fear her power, the weak always fear power." Erik scoffed from behind Charles, looking down on the woman like she was an insect that was annoying him.
"Erik, please," Charles said, resting a calming hand on his arm. He glanced at the shaking woman and reined in his own anger. They didn't know that the child they were dealing with was a mutant, they thought she possessed and they tried to help her the only way they knew how. It was horrible, yes but he couldn't blame them. Not really.
"May we see her and her brother?" Charles asked though all warmth was gone from his tone and cool politeness had taken its place.
"She's in here," Sister Agatha said, leading them to a small door. With quivering hands she pulled a large brass key out of her pocket and trembling, unlocked the door.
Charles took one look through the door. Unable to keep the horror out of his voice when he said, "you locked her in the cupboard."
"We had to; she couldn't….not with the other children. We were trying to protect them!" Sister Agatha protested, withering under Erik's cold glare. Charles heard his friend's hand clench around the coin in his hand, he could practically hear the metal warping from the strain.
"You are going to go upstairs now," Charles said to Sister Agatha, "and you will stay in your bedroom for three hours until you are certain that we are far away. Then you will never, ever lock any child in this cupboard again, do you understand me?"
"Yes," Sister Agatha said, shrinking away from Charles's angry gaze. She didn't even wait for his dismissal, just ran up the stairs as if hell hounds were nipping at her heels.
Charles moved forward but stopped at Erik's voice.
"I'll let you handle it," Erik said, calmly.
"Are you certain?" Charles asked. He could feel the anger encroaching on Erik's thoughts, matching the sharp nod the other man gave him.
"I won't be long," Charles promised.
"I'll be here waiting," Erik said in kind, turning to stand against the wall, posture rigid with tension.
Charles watched as the coin flew gracefully between Erik's fingers, his eyes softened in sadness at seeing the bastard metal but he couldn't do anything about his friend's masochistic behavior. Instead he turned to go into the cupboard, ducking his head into the doorway. It was a very small space and he couldn't even fit into it without bending his back.
"It's alright; you can come out now, "Charles said to the children huddled together in the corner, once he was certain that the nun was gone.
He saw two pairs of identical bright blue eyes, one of them filled with defiance, the other with curiousity. Charles continued to smile at them in encouragement and they slowly got to their feet. The brother and sister were nearly identical, they had the same cheekbones, sharp noses, thin mouths and pale skin, although whether that was their natural tone or just a result of them being locked inside, Charles was uncertain. They even had the same build, slender bodies with long legs. The only difference besides their genders was the fact that the girl had dark hair, almost black while the boy's hair was such a light blonde that under the single light bulb it looked blinding white.
"Are you Wanda then?" Charles asked to the little girl as she crept closer. She gave him a nod; keep a tight grip on her brother's hand.
"It's lovely to meet you, Wanda. My name's Charles Xavier."He said, kneeling down to her level.
"You were in my head!" The boy accused, trying to tug his sister away.
"And you must be the mysterious Superman," Charles said turning to give the little boy a smile.
"Is that what he's been telling you?" Wanda said, rolling her eyes which caused her brother to pout at her.
"Why are you here?" The boy demanded, petulantly as only a child could.
"Well, I suppose I'm here for you," Charles said, uncertain of how to explain the situation to the children.
The boy's eyes widened and he quickly grabbed onto his sister's arm, pulling her away from Charles.
"You're not taking her! If you try to take her…I'll….I'll do something really horrible to you!" he shouted, turning a brilliant shade of red in his anger.
"I'm not trying to take her-" Charles said, trying to placate the angry child.
"No! You're just like the scary man! You can't have her! I won't let you!" He continued to shout, growing increasingly desperate as his sister still refused to move.
"Hush," Wanda said to him, wrapping an arm around his skinny shoulders and pressing their foreheads together. "He's different."
"How do you know?" The boy demanded, angry tears already coursing down his cheeks, little sniffles following them.
"He feels different. It's okay," she said to her brother, soothingly. She glanced up at Charles and he smiled gently at her, trying to exude warmth, safety and protection. The boy gave a mighty hiccup and then sighed, leaning against his sister's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Wanda said. "He just…He's really 'motional."
"I expect that he was just trying to protect you, love," Charles said to Wanda.
Wanda sighed, "I'm the older sibling. I'm 'sposed to take care of him."
"Only by two minutes," the boy protested.
"Hush," Wanda said as if trying to silence a grumpy baby. "You've met this man before, then? He's the man with the weird voice from your dream?"
"Uh huh," the boy nodded.
"Are you still hung up on that? I had hoped our conversation helped you see me in a better light," Charles sighed dramatically, although he was still grinning. "Although, I suppose, I can't keep calling you Superman. What's your real name?"
"None of your busy-ness-"
"His name's Pietro," Wanda supplied helpfully.
"Wanda!" Pietro whined.
"What? It's not like he wouldn't find out 'ventually," Wanda shrugged. Pietro gave her an annoyed glare, moving off her shoulder but still staying beside her.
"Are you taking us somewhere?" Wanda asked.
"Yes I-I have a home, well, I'm hoping it'll become a school someday. A school for people like us."
"People like us?" Wanda echoed, scrunching up her face in confusion.
"Mutants. That's what you are Wanda. Mutants, well, they're the next stage of evolution and it's my hope that mutants and humans can learn to work together peacefully. That's what I'm hoping the school will do. You have powers don't you?"
"Sometimes…" Wanda hesitated, "sometimes when I'm mad, things move. I don't know why and I really didn't mean to hurt Jimmy but…he pushed me off the swing and then the swing…it went around him and…he flew through the air and I really didn't mean to do it!"
"I know, you'll learn to control your powers Wanda, so things like that don't happen. Your powers are just like a muscle and they can be controlled." Charles said to her.
"But what about Pietro?" Wanda said, glancing at her brother who refused to meet her gaze. "He doesn't have any powers."
"Oh, I think that Pietro has his own extraordinary abilities just waiting to come out," Charles said mysteriously.
"Really?" Pietro perked up. "Will I be able to fly? Or walk on water? Or turn invisible?"
"I don't know. But I'm certain whatever it is, it will be perfect," Charles said honestly.
"Wicked," Pietro grinned.
"Now then, are you ready to go? I don't suppose you have anything you'd like to take with you?" Charles said, standing up and nearly hitting his head as he backed out of the enclosed space.
"Uh uh," Wanda shook her hand, following after him and dragging her brother by his tiny hand behind her.
"Wonderful, then we'll be on our way. Oh, before I forget, this is my associate, Erik Lensherr," Charles said to the children, spotting Erik's upright figure in the hallway. "Erik, this is Pietro and Wanda."
"Maximoff," Wanda said, giving her last name. Charles smiled at her and glanced at Erik. His smile dropped to see the look of frightened horror on his friend's face before it slid back into its impassive mask but Charles still felt the fear and apprehension in his friend.
"Erik-" Charles reached out to soothe both his mind and to provide some kind of reassurance but Erik's eyes never left the children who were staring up at him, blue clashing against blue. Erik's eyes flew up to meet Charles and then Erik did the one thing he was very, very good at, besides killing the Nazis who had hurt him, he ran.