Sorry for the late update^^ I told you, I am a busy lab rat..*sigh*. Well, Next update should be up in 1-1/2 week(s), though I can't promise anything.
Annndd, thankies for the reviews, favs and allerts :) !
Chapter 1
16. January 1963, Xavier Mansion
It was around ten o'clock, later morning, and the breakfast had already begun, but the young man in front of the mirror couldn't quite bring himself to go down just yet.
He had one of these days; those days where he doubted his appearance.
Two different colored eyes stared back at him. He stood there, gazing at the bright color of those eyes, then he sighed. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at his mirror-image as if he was angry at himself, but in truth he was just focusing. There he stood for several minutes, just glaring at his mirror image.
Meanwhile, books and clothes flew through the air, putting themselves in their right place, while the light blue shirt he wore buttoned up itself. His a bit too long hair was brushed by a hairbrush. He was just half aware of what happened around him because he was used to his telekinesis already. The most important problem was his left eye. He knew, the others weren't bothered by its red color, but the telepath couldn't help but feel weird. He did not want to have a red eye. Maybe that was how Raven must have felt months ago, bothered by her own apperance, even if it was her true self. But, this time it was different.
This was not Charles' true self, this was a remnant of the phoenix.
He hated it.
To be true, he could not remember much of what had happened in the time the phoenix had been active. There were just fragments, but most of his memories were like ...gone. Even Shaw's death was like erased from his memory... Erik had told him a lot, of what had happened, but Charles could not remember one bit. Maybe it was better this way.
He leaned closer to the mirror, his eyes widened now, gazing into his own different colored eyes and began form a simple illusion. From one minute to the other his red eye became a brilliant blue, matching his right eye perfectly.
Charles leaned back again, eyeing himself with a critical expression on his face. He still was not satisfied. For him, there was still the red eye under the blue hue, always present, as if to mock him.
He could not trick his own mind. He could probably not even trick the minds of the others. Of course, he could built a perfect illusion of a blue eye, but then he would have to be in their minds, all the time, to tell them that both of his eyes were blue, not multicolored.
He had always liked his blue eyes. Maybe he was arrogant, but he had considered them as special, but now he felt.. how? Deformed? No, it was not that horrible. Well, of course it somewhat was, for him, his ego, but not as horrible as injuries or scars of others, for example.
It could have been worse. He could be dead, but he was alive. Erik had told him that he had been in a coma for almost over an month, and that they all had feared he would never come back to them.
But, here he was, among them, and all he could think of was self pity for his new appearance? He should be more greatful, to whom or whatever brought him back. There were other things to do than to worry about a stupid, red eye.
He was still able to see with the eye, so where was the problem? Charles pressed his lips together, staring at his mirror image, which stared grimly back at him. He could still use an eyepatch. Hank had made him one, but he would rather not look like a pirate, even if it would be better to wear it in public. The last thing he wanted was an old lady to faint because she thought he was a devil. But, there was still the option of an illusion..
"A frown dose not suit you, Charles. "
Charles flinched slightly as he swirled around in surprise. He hadn't been aware of Erik until he had spoken up.
The metal-bender stood in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest, eyeing Charles with a amused grin. This grin, however, turned into a frown as well as he saw Charles' face. "Still trying to cover your little problem?" he asked, gesturing at his left eye.
Charles sighed as he ran a hand through his wavy hair, rolling his eyes as his illusion began to fade, letting Erik see his red eye again. "Satisfied?" he murmured, not really happy. He had been in Erik's head, creating the illusion, without noticing it. Maybe I should train my control again, the telepath mused to himself. It was true, he had gotten a bit incautious when it came to his powers.
The books and clothes, which were still on their way to their right place, dropped back to the floor as Charles lifted his eyes to look at Erik, who eyed him with an rather stern expression. "You still don't accept it, don't you?" the older man asked, his voice softer than the expression on his face. Charles knew that Erik was still wary about his powers, about the telekinesis, especially after Charles' coma.
They all feared the phoenix, Erik and Charles probably the most. They both never spoke about it, but Charles could feel the tension in the air when Erik was around him while he used his telekinesis.
"No, not quite yet.." Charles admitted as he smoothed down his shirt, his fingers playing with the top button of his shirt. Was he ashamed? Maybe, for acting so stupid. Erik took some long strides till he was in front of Charles, then he carefully laid his hand on the telepath's shoulder, gently smiling down on him "You shouldn't worry too much about it, Charles. You are beautiful, you know? Just the way you are."
He knew those words meant to comfort him, but they didn't. He just felt even more stupid, like a child searching for affection. He didn't want their pity, or their nice words. He knew they all meant to make him feel better, but they didn't.
He wanted to accept himself because he himself wanted to accept himself, not because the others told him to do so. The problem was he himself, not the others. And he already was annoyed of himself for being so self-centeredness and stubborn.
And so Charles gave his friend, boyfriend, a small smile, but it was just a half-hearted smile. "It is not the apperance.." he said, though it was a bit of a lie, because it bothered him as well "It is because of what it reminds me of."
They both stood there in silence for mere minutes, neither of them sure what to say next. Charles could feel the sympathy of Erik.
It would always remind him, but there was nothing to change it. It was over, the phoenix was gone for now, and that was the most important fact.
Charles took a deep breath, leaning his forehead against Erik's chest. He could smell Erik's scent, reminding him of mint and the smell of fresh fallen leaves. He loved Erik's scent; it always managed to calm him down somehow.
"Hey, you two lovebirds! If you don't hurry Sean and Alex will eat everything on their own!" They both winced as Raven's voice was heared through the whole hallway.
"Your dear sister is probably right." Erik chuckled , and Charles leaned back. "I know." he hummed, grimacing. He had wanted to stay here with Erik, to be honest, but his stomach growled.
Erik tugged Charles' hair behind his ears, studying his face as his thumb brushed over the younger man's cheek "Let's hurry." he sighed, but added thoughtfully "Though, as far as I know those boys I am sure they've eaten most of the breakfast anyway."
The morning went by surprisingly fast. Charles found himself sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in his hand, gazing out of the window, lost in thoughts. The day was foggy, cold, and it was snowing slightly.
Almost two months had passed since he had woken from his coma. Nothing special had happened, but Charles thoughts wandered to the kids and Erik.
Raven was working in a cafe now, sometimes, to " get my own money." , as she would say. She was there today as well and would probably come back later in the afternoon. The job did her good and she had even found some new friends there. Though, of course she had to hide her own apperance.
Sean and Alex were the same as always; loud and sometimes really hard to handle. But the boys had found some new activities. Alex had joined a football team, and Sean was interested in art. Still they both were almost inseparable, spending a lot of time together.
Hank was still the lab nerd. Most of the time he was in the lab or in the libary of the mansion, even Charles was not sure what exactly the boy was doing all the time, but Hank was fine. If he wasn't in the lab, he was with Raven. Currently, he and Charles both worked at the outlines of the Danger Room, and the new Cerebro was almost ready.
Charles dream was to open up a school some day, but not now. Maybe in one year or two. After all, such a school had to be well planned.
The telepath sighed as he took another sip of his tea, the fingers of his right hand drumming on the table.
Then there was Erik.
Erik was always worried about him, about his mental condition. It was almost cute, but it was also really exhausting. Charles knew that the metal-bender was just afraid to lose him, and he could understand Erik's worry, but he was not made of glas; he could handle his current situation, he was okay with it. His mental shields were not as strong as before, but strong enough to keep others out of his head, as well as the phoenix. In fact, the phoenix was burried deep inside his mind and it would probably take some time till it would show up again, and maybe, maybe, they would have found a way to get rid of it forever by then.
The phone rang, and Charles head turned to the kitchen door. "Erik, will you answer the phone, or shall I...?" he mentally asked. It took mere minutes till Erik answered "Nah,I am upstairs with Hank, working on Cerebro. You'll have to go."
Charles sighed, nodding, though Erik couldn't see it anyway. He had forgotten that Erik was helping Hank with the placing of the metal plates for Cerebro.
"One moment, please." he shouted, even if ithe person at the other end of the line wasn't able to hear him, hurrying towards phone. Who could it be? Maybe one of Raven's friends? "Charles Xavier, may I help?" He placed the phone between his shoulder and his head,a notepad and a pencil in his hands, ready to write down anything he was told, a beaming smile on his lips.
"Hello, Mr. Xavier." a dark and sympathetic male voice spoke. Charles had never heard this voice before. "My name is Jonathan Sherman. I am a colleague of William Stryker. Do you have some time for a talk?"
"Agent..Stryker?" was the first thing he asked, not able to hide the surprise in his voice. Stryker, the CIA-agent which had been leery from the start...
"Yes," Sherman answered, his voice polite but with a cold hint. "We have some questions for you and your friend.." a pause, the rustle of papers could be heard "Erik Lehnsherr."
Charles' tongue darted forward, licking over his lips, as always when he was nervous "May I ask why, and what questions?"
A bad feeling began to form in his stomach, though he was not sure why. There was nothing he had to fear. They had done nothing wrong and no one of the humans knew about the phoenix and about what had happened the night Shaw had died.
"Who is it?" Charles could hear Erik ask while he stared at the notepad in his hand. "A man named Jonathan Sherman."he answered quietly, his tongue licking over his lips again. "The CIA.." He could feel Erik's surprise and anger. Their mental bond had grown stronger since the time with the phoenix, and Charles flinched slightly as the wave of Erik's anger rolled over him.
"What do they want?"
He could not answer, because Mr. Sherman began to speak "Don't worry, Mr. Xavier. We just have some questions about mutants, and about what you and Mr. Lehnsherr are about to do with the children that live at your side. As far I've heard you've trained them for a war against a certain man.." Moira..They must have gotten their information from her, there was no other option. Charles could not tell if she was working together with those men, or if she had been forced to answer their questions. He wished it wasn't because of her, because he had always considered her as trustworthy and friendly.. "I just want to get sure that everything is alright." Sherman said, almost purring "That's not to much to ask, isn't it? It's about our all safety."
Charles' grip around the pencil tightened slightly. "Of course.."
"Charles? Hey! " Erik's voice rang in his head, alarmed because he felt Charles' tension. "Everything alright?"
Charles rubbed his forehead. "He said they want to talk with us..." he mumbled. He could hear Erik's mental snort "Sure." he hissed "It couldn't be more obvious!"
"I know, Erik!" Charles snapped, tetchy because he had to talk to two persons at the same time, which was really taxing."But we can't just turn down their plea! They might know something, we can not risk anything!"
Sherman seemed to wonder about the silence, because he spoke up again "Now, Mr. Xavier?" Charles cleared his throat. He was still able to hear Erik's mumbling in the back of his head, but he had to focus on Sherman now. "I think I should talk with Erik. Together we will decide what to do, and I will call you as soon as we have chosen our answer."
There was a pause at the other end of the line, and Charles was about to speak up as Sherman answered "Oh, no. That's not necessary, Mr. Xavier." another short pause, and Charles was almost sure that the other man was grinning as he said "Have a nice day." He was not able to answer; Sherman hung up the phone before Charles was even able to open his mouth. Charles stood there, taking the phone and hung it off. "A nice day as well.." he mumbled.
"Charles?" Charles looked up as Erik walked down the stairs, giving him an questioning gaze "What have you told him?"
Charles took a deep breath through his nose and leaned back against the wall. "Nothing. I told him that I would want to talk with you before I make any decision on my own."
Erik stopped in front of him, looking down on him thoughtfully "And, what was his answer?"
Charles looked past Erik, his brow furrowed as he thought about what Sherman had said "Well, there was no real answer.." he said, slowly. "I told him that we would call him back, but he said it is okay and then he hung up.
Erik growled in discomfort as he shook his head "They're planning something, Charles." Charles closed his eyes and nodded slowly "I know.." he mumbled. The grayish light from outside shone through the window down at them and Charles could almost feel the small rays of sunlight on his skin.
"So, what will you do?" Erik asked, still watching Charles, who had his eyes firmly closed, lost in his thoughts.
It took several minutes until Charles opened his mismatched eyes again, this time looking straight into Erik's. "There is nothing I could do." he admitted "I don't have their phone number, neither their adress."
"Great.." Erik sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked down on Charles, who squirmed slightly under the metal-bender's gaze. "Let's just hope they forget about us." the telepath mumbled, not really convinced by himself.
Of course they would not. Charles was sure that they would call again. And there was something about Sherman that he could not quite place.. "Hey, Charles." Erik took his face into his hands "You're frowning again."
Charles smiled weakly; he knew that Erik thought as much about the CIA at the moment as he did, but still he tried not to show it. "What about Cerebro?" Charles asked instead, because they both needed a change of topic. They would think about the CIA later anyway, and he knew that later they would discuss about their option. Later, when they were alone in one of their rooms, playing chess. It always ended with discussing while playing chess.
"We're still not completely done." Erik answered, then he tilted his head to the side, eyeing Charles with interest in his eyes. "Would you be able to locate Sherman with Cerebro?"
Charles shook his head. " I am able to locate people whose mind I've touched, but I am not sure if I would be able to find Sherman. I don't even know what he looks like; It would be like searching in a crowd without knowing him, so there is no point in trying."
Erik nodded, his face stern. He was worried, Charles could easily tell it by the way he looked at him. Erik had never trusted the humans, and it only had gotten worse since Moira had left them. He thought that she had betrayed them, and now he was afraid that Moira could have told the CIA everything she knew.
Charles was not sure, but he tried to believe that Moira would never do something like that; she might had been afraid, but she was not stupid. She wouldn't betray them, that was not like her.
He could remeber that she had liked him a lot, back then when they had been together at the CIA-quarters, and he could just hoped that their friendship was more important to her than what the others of the CIA could want from her.
"Don't worry, Erik." Charles smiled up at him "There is nothing they could do to us." Erik did not smile in return. In fact, his face just darkened "You say that, but I know better."
Charles smile faded, and he furrowed his brow "I know what you fear, Erik, but it won't be like it had been before. The humans have changed, and this time there completely different conditions .."
"I know how it all starts!" Erik hissed, his eyes narrowed "Don't you think I can judge this better than you? I had been imprisoned once before, and believe me, I never want to be treated like that ever again!" Erik was angry, but most of all he was afraid. Charles could understand his fear, but maybe he couldn't understand it as much as he thought... No one could imagine the terror and violence that Erik had gone through. The time in the camps must have been horrible, and it was only natural that Erik feared every action against them which could possibly lead to their imprisonment by the humans. Still Charles refused to believe that this would or could happen- again.
"They just want to talk.." Charles tried to calm him down, but Erik just gave him a snort "Yeah,sure. They always just want to talk.."
There was tension in the air, and they stood there in the corridor for several minutes, neither of them saying a word. "Please.." Charles then sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers "I don't want to fight about this topic now..We both now that it would lead to nothing at all.."
Erik looked at him as if he was about to say something, though he stayed calm and nodded. "Okay.."he almost whispered, suddenly looking tired. They both were tired of fighting about the same topic over and over again, but it was unavoidable..
"Would you like some tea?" Charles asked, as they both walked down the corridor. Erik looked as if he was pondering. "Actually I should continue to help Hank." he began,slowly, but hastily added "But, one cup will be alright." as he saw Charles' disappointed face.
Charles' face lit up; he had known that the sad face would convince Erik to stay with him for some more time. That might sound a bit rude, but he just wanted to spend a bit time with his boyfriend.
"But-" Erik said, as they walked into the kitchen "I want a coffee, not a tea. I still don't like that colored water with milk.."
Charles chuckled as he took two cups out of the cupboard "I am afraid, my friend-" he placed the cups down on the counter "- that there is no Coffee left." he turned to Erik, who stared at him with disbelief in his eyes. "Sean had probably had the last one."
Erik's knuckles cracked dangerously "Someday I'll kill that boy." he muttered. "He always eats everything that I like, and now he also stole my coffe." Charles laughed out, because Erik was almost pouting like a child whose favorite candy had been taken away, out of its reach. "Well, you have to drink a cup of tea, then."
Erik rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. "Never. I prefer water."
Charles raised one eyebrow as he put the teapot on the stove. "Didn't you just say that tea is colored water?"
Erik raised his chin "Tz, does it matter?Tea is tea, water is water." Charles laughed out and shook his head.
"Sometimes I don't understand you, Erik."
"Well.." Erik mumbled as he placed his chin on his folded hands. "Don't worry, me neither."
They stayed in the kitchen for one hour until they both went back to their work, the CIA long forgotten.
If they just would have done something about Sherman.
If they just would have agreed to meet him.
Maybe the CIA wouldn't be on their way to the mansion then...
But, who can tell what could have been?
...
