For what it's worth, I wrote this chapter first.
Chapter III.
It's going to be alright
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Charles screams when his ribs snap, losing all coherence for several minutes as he's consumed by pain, thrashing on the table as Shaw looks on dispassionately. The drugs are enhancing it, spreading it like wildfire all the way down to the tips of his toes and fingers, his arms and legs twitching uncontrollably. He chokes off his scream with a whimper, half-aware of wetness on his face. Breathe. Breathe. Breathebreathebreathedon'tthinkaboutit—
"Fascinating." Shaw says, and Charles can feel the horrible weight of his interest. "You telepaths really are all about mind over matter. Of course you are." He chuckles to himself, and steps out of Charles' line of sight.
Charles lays still, eyes glazed. Only two broken ribs, pull yourself together. His heart is racing almost painfully fast, pumping the drugs through his system. Better him than the others. Better him than Raven, than Erik—
Erik will come. The rest of his thoughts may be scattered and muddled and completely disjointed even to himself, but in that moment Charles is struck by one clear thought of certainty—Erik will come.
Charles takes a deep, shuddering breath—that hurts, makes his ribs twinge and his vision blur, but he pushes the sensations away—and focuses on that one absolute truth. Erik will come for him.
He has to.
Because otherwise, there is no way out.
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Introducing Charles to Avalanche goes about as well as Erik could hope for.
He still puts it off for as long as he can, taking Charles on the long route to the conference room. All jokes about their bedroom aside, Erik is rather proud of this base as a whole. He's carved it into the side of the mountain himself with his ability, and while the process of figuring out what and what not to do throughout the project had taken him three grueling weeks, he manages to take the entire thing in stride and views it as a learning experience—he's come a long way in learning how to control his power. Judging by the way Charles is rebounding Erik's contentment in a feedback loop of warmth, the telepath is just as proud.
"Azazel transported all the materials in, of course." Erik adds as they draw close to the conference room door. "Otherwise it would resemble a rather crude cave instead."
"It's still a cave," Charles assures him, but his tone is light and teasing, "but a lovely cave all the same."
Erik rolls his eyes for Charles' benefit, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. It feels odd to be walking through the halls here without its familiar weight on his head. Originally he'd wanted to put the helmet back on before leaving their bedroom, but Charles had stopped him.
"I need it here." Erik says to him. "I trust you, but I don't trust Psylocke." Psylocke is a telepath he recruited to the Brotherhood a year ago. She is devoted to the cause, but there is still only one telepath Erik allows in his head and it isn't her.
"Darling, if Psylocke so much as thinks about reading your mind, I assure you that I will destroy hers." Charles replies idly, but Erik knows a threat when he hears one. "You know I hate the helmet. I understand why you would wear it before, but now you have me. And I," he adds with a smirk, "am far superior."
"No destroying minds." Erik says, but he's convinced, and the helmet remains on the bedspread when they leave the room.
Avalanche is waiting in the conference room when they enter, and as soon as he sees Erik he snaps to attention. If he's surprised to see Erik without the helmet, he hides it well. "Sir." His gaze darts to Charles. "Professor."
"Dominic Petrakis." Charles observes, and Erik knows that tone of voice. The telepath drifts forward into the room, studying Avalanche with near-morbid fascination. "Oh, you don't answer to that name anymore? Then why do you still think of yourself as Dominic?"
Avalanche's gaze darts to Erik nervously, but Erik merely arches a brow and takes a seat at the head of the table. He doesn't exactly approve of Charles pulling information out of his subordinates' minds, but he's not exactly going to stop him, either. At least not until he gets dangerous.
"Avalanche, Professor Charles Xavier." Erik says instead. "My highest advisor." That gets him a wave of amusement from Charles, but it's also detached, as if Charles is only half-paying attention.
"It's an honor, Professor." Avalanche manages to get out. Whatever Charles is doing is making the man sweat, a light sheen visible on his forehead.
"Oh, the pleasure is mine, surely." Charles says absently.
Erik watches them both critically for a moment. He wonders if Avalanche is putting up any kind of resistance—not that it would work, not against Charles—or if Charles can slice through him easily as tissue paper. It'd be interesting to know, after all, seeing as they've got enemies like Emma Frost.
"Generation of seismic waves, then?" Charles muses aloud. "That must be where the name Avalanche comes from. Yes, well done. You're quite loyal to Erik—ah, my mistake, you call him Magneto. Yes, that's good. If you weren't, well, that doesn't bear thinking about."
Erik hides a smirk. The thing about Charles is that he's—for the most part—perfectly civil with his telepathy when it comes to Erik, Alex, Hank, Sean, Angel, and the children. He doesn't pry, unless invited, and when he is he's careful and nearly undetectable. Anyone else, however, appears to be free sport.
"Remember I need him, Charles." Erik says at last after Avalanche gives a particularly pained wince.
"Oh yes, of course." Charles sits down in the chair to Erik's right.
Avalanche slumps, throwing out one hand to catch himself on the edge of the table as he pants lightly. "I hope the base meets your expectations, Professor."
"Exceeds them." Charles assures him pleasantly.
"Make your report, Avalanche." Erik says deliberately, taking back control of the conversation. He figures that Charles has made his point.
"Sir." Avalanche straightens, adjusting himself. "We've gathered several intelligence reports for you to look over—nothing urgent. Since yesterday, we've located three new mutants and were able to recruit two of them successfully. The third had no interest in our cause and had abilities of little consequence regardless. The two we did recruit have been initiated into the training program as of this morning."
"Good." Erik makes a mental note to swing by the training grounds with Azazel later. "We have a new scientist on the base who goes by the name Beast. With his and Charles' help, recruiting will soon become far more efficient."
Avalanche blinks, but avoids looking at Charles. "That's good news, sir."
Cerebro? Charles is a warm presence in his mind, nothing at all like what Avalanche must have experienced.
If you're willing, Erik thinks back. Charles only used Cerebro before to seek out younger mutants; mutants that had no place in joining the Brotherhood yet. But now that he's here…
Seems reasonable. Charles answers. I'll have to earn my keep somehow.
Erik mentally scoffs. You're worth more to me than all the rest of them, Charles. This is true. Charles by his side is something he's wanted ever since he'd founded the Brotherhood four years ago.
Charles merely sends him a feeling of warm pleasure, a small smile toying at the corners of his mouth.
"I'll go through those intelligence reports now, Avalanche," Erik says aloud, realizing that the third mutant in the room is watching them warily, unused to having to endure his and Charles' silent conversations, "and in the meantime, gather everyone else. We have a few things to discuss."
"Right away, sir." Avalanche hands over the appropriate files and then practically flees from the room.
"I don't suppose we got off on the wrong foot, hm?" Charles muses once he's gone, and Erik can't help but laugh.
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Instead of heading straight back to the CIA base as soon as they finally return to DC, Charles insists that they stop on Capitol Hill. Erik wastes no time in parking the car. He's not entirely looking forward to reuniting with all the suits, but at this point he's also entirely on board with whatever Charles wants to do.
Twenty minutes later they've made a leisurely walk over to the Lincoln Memorial, and Erik listens to Charles spout off facts about America's sixteenth President before they settle down on the steps outside with a game of chess between them, though neither one of them is trying very hard to win. Listening to all of Charles' hopes and dreams for the future makes Erik feel dangerously peaceful, so he can't help but draw him back to reality a little. Charles only smiles, as if he knows exactly what Erik is doing.
Four hours later they finally make it back to the base to find that the team of mutants they've assembled is getting on swimmingly, much to Charles' delight. Erik thinks they're all so young.
Two hours later Moira calls Erik and Charles aside and tells them that they've received info on Shaw. Erik can feel all of his nerves humming on edge as she briefs them on the mission that the CIA has scrambled to put together. Shaw is in Russia. They leave in an hour. Under the table, Charles reaches over to squeeze his hand. This does not stop Erik from vetoing the decision to bring along any of the other mutants after they find the children literally hanging from the ceiling.
Fifteen hours later Erik holds very still as two Russian soldiers stare blankly into the back of the truck and declare it empty, all while ten American soldiers stare back, guns leveled, and Charles' brow furrows in concentration as he holds two fingers to his temple. He collapses back down onto the bench as soon as the door slams shut and Erik claps him on the leg, making sure Charles catches how impressed he is. Charles responds with a wave of warmth that banishes the cold from Erik for the rest of the drive.
Thirty minutes later it is very apparent that Shaw isn't showing up, but Erik will take what he can get and goes after Frost—she's his right-hand woman. Charles follows him, and for a split second in the aftermath, Erik thinks of him as his right-hand man.
One hour later they get the call that Angel is gone, and Darwin is dead.
Eleven hours later they're back on the ground in the United States, and Charles ducks through the rubble to hug Raven. Erik looks at the children who are no longer children and knows what has to be done. Convincing Charles doesn't take much, and even better, he says he has a place for them to go.
Five hours later they're standing outside what has to be the biggest house Erik has ever seen, and Charles invites them all inside, telling them that his home is theirs. Erik can't help the snide comment that falls from his lips that Raven quickly rebukes before she changes the subject, but Erik doesn't miss the weary, self-deprecating smile Charles gives instead of answering.
One month later Erik finds that he's fallen into a routine—dangerous, too dangerous to form things like habits—but he couldn't be more satisfied. He's watched Charles encourage, poke, prod, and shape Alex, Hank, and Sean in each of their respective mutations, and Erik himself has been pushing Raven to the limits of her own. Erik is reminded of family, especially when he looks at Charles (especially when he spends his nights with Charles), and he knows that soon they'll be ready to take on Shaw. Moira is with them, and she keeps close tabs on the wires, waiting to hear Shaw's name. It's only a matter of time, because the whole world seems to be holding its breath.
One day later, they climb to the top of the satellite dish.
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Sean has to admit, this base is pretty swanky. When he says as much aloud, Angel laughs and Alex snorts while Hank rolls his eyes.
"You're such a dork, Sean." Alex adds for good measure.
"Haven't you already seen all of this anyway?" Hank asks.
"Um. Hello." Sean gestures around them with a wide, sweeping motion. They're standing in the empty cafeteria. On second thought, Sean isn't sure why they're showing Hank the cafeteria, because he rarely left his lab in the mansion to sleep, let alone eat, and Sean fails to see how being here will change any of Hank's ways. "Do you see this place? Are you looking? Angel, you're not looking."
"I've lived here longer than you, chico," Angel says with another laugh, "so no, I'm not looking at something I see every other week."
"It's a freaking cafeteria! In a building in the side of a mountain!" Sean's voice rises higher in pitch, threatening to go supersonic. "We're like, here illegally! Illegal aliens!"
"Don't worry," Alex deadpans, "I'm sure it's on the top of Magneto's agenda, getting us all passports."
Sean merely laughs. "Dude, I am like not worried at all."
Hank sighs. He's clearly had enough of this, but Sean thinks he's clearly still not looking. "As, uh, swanky as this all is, do any of you know where Magneto wanted me to set up my lab?"
"Probably in the lower levels," Angel guesses, "that's where a lot of storage is but I think Magneto's been keeping some space clear for you."
"He's wanted to move us here for a while, hasn't he?" Hank observes quietly.
"Alex?" A voice calls from the entrance to the cafeteria.
"Scotty, what the hell are you doing out of class?" Alex shifts from his position leaned against the wall casually, heading over to his brother at once. "You shouldn't be wandering around here. This isn't the mansion anymore." Sean might puke if Alex sounds anymore authoritative-protective-brotherly. This is Alex, the dude he steals alcohol from the Professor with on Friday nights. Still, Sean likes Scott, he's a cool kid. Sean also likes to tell Alex that Scott got all the good looks in the Summers family. So far, Sean's only been punched twice.
Secretly, Sean still thinks it was fucking magical of Erik and the Professor to help find and bring Scott home. Best idea they've ever had, hands down.
Scott frowns, presumably glaring up at Alex through his red goggles. "I can go where I want," he protests, "but Miss Jubilee said the bathroom was this way but I think I got lost."
Alex ruffles his hair. "You're on the right track, buddy. I'll show you." The Summers brothers head back out into the hallway.
"Is it fair of you to dump the children on this Jubilee person?" Hank wonders.
"Dude, Jubilee is like perfect for kids." Sean says. "She's totally got this." Truth be told, he's a little relieved to get more help with the kids. It's not that they're a handful, and he totally gets why the Professor keeps his distance and stays the fuck away, but Sean still sometimes feels like he's still a kid too, and taking care of a bunch of other kids is a pretty big responsibility. Good thing he had lots of siblings, or otherwise starting out would've been a nightmare.
Hank doesn't exactly look ready to take Sean's word for it, but at that moment Azazel warps into the room next to them.
"Azazel my man." Sean greets him. He gets a light tap on the shoulder by the tail for his efforts.
"Heya Az," Angel says, "Magneto and the Prof got in about an hour ago."
The red mutant nods. "Your equipment is still in the Blackbird, yes?" he asks Hank.
"Yes," Hank says at once, "and if you're up for moving it now, I'd be—"
"Let's go." Wisely, Azazel interrupts him, offering him a hand.
"Azazel!" Avalanche sticks his head into the room. "You're back just in time. Magneto called a meeting. Angel, you'd better come too."
"Your equipment will have to wait, comrade." Azazel says to Hank wryly.
"Hey, what about us?" Sean asks. If Magneto's called a meeting, he wants in. Especially after what Alex told him earlier, about the attack on the mansion and how Magneto and the Prof think it was Shaw.
Avalanche blinks. "Well—"
"You should come." Angel interrupts him. She's already holding Azazel's hand, and reaches to grab Sean's. She was there earlier too, and she gives Sean and Hank a meaningful look. "I'm sure the Professor wants us all there."
"Alex will be pissed if we don't tell him," Hank says, "I'd better wait for him."
"I'll come back." Azazel says with a shrug.
"Peace, dude." Sean says to Avalanche with a grin, and then the whole world twists as Azazel teleports.
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Erik is impressed by how quickly Charles scrambles up the impossibly tall ladder to the top of the satellite. Not that he's complaining about the climb—it'd given him a nice view of Charles' ass.
Charles must have caught his last few thoughts, because when Erik hoists himself up onto the platform at the top, the telepath is grinning.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Erik tells him matter-of-factly, moving aside so Hank can climb up onto the platform as well. Erik's in a good mood. He'd fucked Charles' brains out twice last night and once this morning. He would've made it twice this morning, too, but Charles had protested—really, what was he thinking (clearly he wasn't)—and had said something about being responsible, which apparently was synonymous with "being the first ones down to the kitchen," all in order to start breakfast because "the children need proper nutrition, Erik, especially if you're going to make them run laps around the house."
Oh well. Erik can wait. It'll make it all the better later tonight when he nails Charles against a wall.
Charles grins again even as he pretends to look out across the admittedly spectacular view, and this time the grin is accompanied with a mild flush. When Hank asks him with no small concern, "Are you alright, Professor?" Charles replies with an easy, "Never better, Hank."
Erik turns around before Hank can catch him grinning back at Charles, and looks over the edge of the platform to yell down to Sean, "Move it, Cassidy!"
Sean is still several yards down the ladder, wheezing for breath. "This thing is like five miles tall!"
"If you're not up here in ten seconds, I'm making you run ten miles." Erik says pleasantly. "And Hank can join you."
"Hurry up, Sean!" Hank calls down to him, sounding a little panicky.
"Really, Erik," Charles remarks quietly as Erik moves over to join him on the other side of the platform, leaving Hank to encourage Sean the rest of the way up, "there are better methods than threatening them, you know." But the corners of his mouth are twitching.
Erik keeps a straight face. "Really, Charles," he says, "there are more efficient methods than coddling them, you know."
Charles makes a soft noise of disbelief, but he's lazily broadcasting his warm contentment, his telepathy flitting easily around the edges of Erik's mind. He still doesn't read Erik's mind directly without Erik's explicit permission, but Erik has made it clear that he doesn't ever want Charles to shut down his gift. Erik is proud of his mutation, and Charles should be too.
Hank is still leaned over the railing and looking down at Sean, so Erik drifts closer to Charles, settling his hand over the telepath's where it rests lightly on the railing and together they stand still and quiet, merely basking in the other's company. They haven't even known each other very long, Erik thinks, silently allowing himself to marvel, but there is something that has clicked into place between them that feels so natural and easy that Erik allows himself to have this, despite the long years of his hunt, despite the rage he still keeps carefully fueled, despite Shaw, despite everything.
"I'm going to open an academy." Charles says, and Erik looks sideways at him. The telepath is studying the house, quietly thoughtful, but his eyes burn with determination. "For mutants, Erik, think of the possibilities. We can find them, teach them to use their powers, teach them to be proud of who and what they are—"
"We?" Erik interrupts him mildly, raising his eyebrows.
Charles seems to realize his near-subconscious shift in tenses, and he stumbles over his words. Erik should not find this endearing in any way. "Well—that is—I mean—only if you wanted to."
Erik considers him. "I am going to kill Shaw."
Charles worries his lower lip between his teeth. The past month hasn't been argument-free, of course. They each have their different philosophies—and half the time Charles' make Erik want to scream at him, for being so stubbornly naïve—but thankfully now Charles doesn't say anything and lets Erik finish.
"And then—if you'll have me—I'm not going anywhere, Charles."
Charles smiles, and Erik will never get tired of the way his impossibly blue eyes light up like that, and Erik thinks to himself that he will make things so that Charles can keep on being stubbornly naïve, because Erik has finally found something in this world that is worth protecting.
Sean is finally clambering up onto the platform and while Hank is busy berating him about the ten miles Erik is probably actually going to make them run, Erik gently removes his hand from Charles', but not before they share one last meaningful look.
"Welcome to the top, Mr. Cassidy," Charles greets Sean brightly, slipping back into his teaching mode with uncanny ease, "now it's time to see about how you'll be getting back down, yes?"
Sean looks a little green as he comes to stand on the edge of the platform and they gather around him; Hank is nearly bursting with excitement to see if the suit he's invented actually works, Erik's already grinning, and Charles is focused on Sean intently, giving him his full, undivided attention.
"Remember, our theory of how this should work is really quite sound." Charles reminds him.
"I trust you," Sean says, pointing at Charles as if conviction alone will help him through this.
"I'm touched," Charles assures him.
"I don't trust him," Sean adds, pointing to Hank.
"Say nothing," Charles says to Hank quickly before Hank can get a word in edgewise.
Sean shifts on his feet, teetering on the edge, and reaches up to rub his face nervously. "I'm going to die," he says fervently, looking down the face of the satellite dish again.
"Alright, look," Charles says, putting a hand on Sean's elbow, "we're not going to make you do anything you don't feel comfortable w—"
"Here, let me help." Erik interrupts, and pushes Sean off the platform.
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Charles knows Psylocke the moment she walks through the door. It would be remiss of him not to recognize a fellow telepath, after all.
She comes to a full stop, startled to see Magneto without his helmet. This is her first mistake—her attention is so absorbed by Erik that she doesn't think to check Charles.
Her second mistake is that she tries to read Erik's mind. In another life, Charles might have been able to sympathize—Erik keeping his head under tight wraps makes him an enigma to telepaths, and if there's one thing telepaths collectively hate, it's enigmas; so he might have been able to understand the pure instinct that is probably guiding Psylocke as she reaches out for Erik's mind.
Unfortunately, he's a lot less forgiving than he used to be.
He slams her down mentally, easily taking her telepathy and shoving it deeply into the recesses of her own mind so harshly that she gasps, reaching up to grab her head. Charles is not surprised to find that his power greatly outclasses her own, and so while she's still reeling in shock and pain, he digs a little.
Elizabeth Braddock, Charles says to her. She flinches and he lets her raise her head a little bit so she can stare at him from beneath the curtain of her hair. You should always keep tabs on all the minds in a room, darling. You wouldn't have been able to stop me, but you would've been able to see me coming.
Professor X. Psylocke sounds equal parts awed and afraid.
Correct. Charles says calmly, and then makes her think she's been burned.
"Charles." Erik murmurs when Psylocke lets out a short scream. He's still immersed in the intelligence reports and while his voice is absent, it also holds the distinct edge of a warning.
"Might we take tea here?" Charles asks idly.
"If you'd like." Erik glances up at Psylocke for the first time. "Tell Toad to bring up a cart." And then he's right back to the reports. Charles might be a little in love with how fast Erik's calculating mind clicks through the words.
I'm going to let you go, Charles says to Psylocke, because I really would like some tea. But rest assured, my dear, if you try to touch Magneto's mind again, you will spend the rest of your life under the everlasting impression that you are a speckled trout. He gives a slow smile at her rush of fear that she can't quite tamp down. Needless to say, it would be a rather short life, you agree?
He withdraws from her mind, and she folds down onto the floor.
"Read this." Erik says, holding out a sheet of paper. "Tell me what you think." Stop smearing my subordinates across the floor, please.
"Always, darling." Charles answers, and starts to read. She tried to read your mind. We established that it is mine.
Why, Erik thinks, amused, I would have thought that would have been evident from the start.
Maybe I'll paint it over your mind in neon, Charles says dreamily, one would be hard-pressed to miss it.
Do anything to me that involves neon, Erik thinks in the sort of pleasant tone that's actually more like a false positive, and you'll find yourself very hard-pressed indeed.
"I can't tell if that means yes or no," Charles says aloud with a smirk, "do be clearer in the future."
"Charles," Erik says, "read the damn report." His thoughts, however, clarify exactly what he means, and the bedframe is heavily featured.
"I," Charles says in answer to both, "am not opposed to that."
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"Erik!" Charles shouts as Sean shrieks and falls. Charles dives forward, gripping the railing tightly as he watches Sean plummet, heart caught in his throat.
Sean screams once, twice, and then suddenly he's emitting sound waves so powerful that they're nearly visible, propelling himself back up into the air. He spreads his arms wide as he swoops past, giving a loud cry of delight. Hank is nearly beside himself with glee as he watches Sean work his flight suit, pulling out a small pocket notebook and scribbling notes furiously.
Charles turns to Erik, and he wants to be angry, he really does, he's just had a few years of his life scared off and he wasn't even the one who was pushed off a satellite dish, but he's having a hard time fighting off the grin that threatens to creep across his face.
"What?" Erik's almost laughing, his eyes bright. "You know you were thinking the same."
Sean shoots higher up into the sky in the distance but Charles only has eyes for Erik and they're probably grinning at each other like loons but he can hardly bring himself to care—he's standing up here with Erik at what feels like the top of the world, watching their students succeed. Erik has promised to stay, admitting that there really is an after Shaw, and Charles thinks that he'd been happy after delivering his thesis successfully but now he's happy, doing exactly what he wants with exactly who he wants.
Charles could very well kiss Erik right here and now, but he doesn't want to startle Hank off the edge as well. He must have projected that last bit because Erik chuckles, shaking his head with a fond, Later.
Still smiling, Charles turns to watch Sean swoop past in a downward dive. He's not really flying, as it's more like controlled falling, but Charles isn't about to correct Sean as he babbles in his head, I'm flying, Professor, I'm flying I'm flying I'm really flying watch this look what I can do I'm flying!
Charles lifts two fingers to his temple and lets his pride radiate out to the boy, replying, Well done, Sean. Your mutation truly is groovy. That earns him peals of wild laughter on Sean's next pass, just as Charles knew it would.
"And how exactly are we going to get him back on the ground again?" Erik asks dryly, but he's still grinning softly as he watches Sean swoop.
Hank adjusts his glasses. "Well, there's one easy way that involves—"
A loud poof, followed by a strong whiff of sulfur, and Charles feels something sharp pierce the back of his neck.
Hank gives a shout of surprise and Erik lunges forward with a snarl, his reaction time faster than Charles can comprehend and the metal of the railing screeches as it rips apart and lashes out, but there's another poof and Charles coughs as red and black smoke invades his lungs.
"Professor! Are you alright?" Hank's face is white, eyes wide.
"Fine, I'm sure." Charles says, bringing up a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "What just happened?"
Erik grips him by the shoulders. "Shaw's man. The red one. He just did something to you, what did he do to you?" Charles doesn't even need telepathy to feel the tension pouring off of Erik.
"Azazel." Hank offers shakily.
"Nothing, I don't think." Charles mutters, furrowing his brow. He feels a little lightheaded, but that could just be from the sulfur he's inhaled.
Professor what the hell was that, it was the red guy I saw him he's the one who killed everyone, what the hell is he doing here? Sean is clumsily circling the satellite and his thoughts sound strange, as if Sean is talking to him through a wall. He killed everyone, Professor, how did he get here, how did he find—
Charles stiffens when Sean's thoughts are abruptly cut off. His head is empty. He draws in a ragged breath, eyes flickering between Erik and Hank. He can't feel them.
"Charles?" Erik is still gripping him, peering down into his eyes. He's definitely felt Charles go ramrod straight, and Charles can't imagine that his expression looks any good. "Charles, damn it, what is it?"
"I can't hear you." Charles manages to get out. He's breathing heavily now, grappling with the sudden emptiness in his head. It feels like it could eat him alive. "I can't hear any of you."
"He's lost his hearing?" Hank asks worriedly.
Erik ignores him. "Your telepathy?" he demands. His grip is probably borderline bruising now, but Charles couldn't care less.
Corpses, they're like talking corpses. Charles chokes back a hysterical laugh. "Nothing, there's nothing. Erik, I can't hear your thoughts."
Erik hisses out a curse in German. "Listen to me, Charles." He gives Charles a small shake, but his voice is low, not angry. "It's probably a suppressant. It'll wear off, alright? Breathe for me." He pauses, and swallows. "Alles ist gut."
Charles closes his eyes but nods. He takes a deep breath. Erik is right. Whatever's been done to him will fade and wear off, and he'll be able to hear thoughts again—
He hears another poof, Hank and Erik shouting as he's jostled roughly, Sean screaming, and then something wraps around his leg and he tears his eyes open as he's flung out into empty space.
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Alex ushers Scott back into the classroom, ruffling his hair for good measure just because he knows it annoys the hell out of him, and then backs out quietly so that he doesn't disturb Jubilee's lesson. The kids all look like they love her, gathered around and listening with rapt attention. Even John is listening, which means Alex is impressed because that takes skills.
"Careful, Havok," Hank says once the door shuts, "you look like you're ready to fluff out your feathers and settle down over your brood."
"What the fuck, Bozo, how do I even know you?" Alex snaps, turning to stalk down the hall. It mostly hides the fact that he's almost grinning. "I don't need your weird bird analogies or whatever the hell that even was."
"Analogies might be a big word for you." Hank remarks. "And that's Beast, to you."
"Whatever, Hank." Alex rolls his eyes.
Hank falls into step beside him as they troop down the hall. The scientist is twitchier than normal, so Alex waits. "This is it, isn't it?" Hank blurts out at last.
"Yeah." Alex nods. There's a tension mounting in him that has nothing to do with his power and everything to do with the fact that Erik says they're close. Alex has been waiting five years to be close—they all have. "I still get so angry when I think about it." He admits quietly. "Like I want to fucking burn down the world until I get to that bastard."
Hank nods slowly. "Me too. If you could believe it."
Alex cracks a wry smile. "You're the Beast. I've seen you get angry."
Hank socks him in the arm, and Alex bites out a curse because that fucking hurts. Hank laughs at him while Alex rubs his arm sullenly. "In any case, you can't burn down the world. Scotty has to live somewhere."
"Yeah." Alex admits. It's just another reminder of how much he owes the Professor. Charles pulled him out of prison, brought him somewhere he actually belonged, gave him a home, helped him control his power, and found Scott. Alex figures he needs to get his ass in gear and pay him back tenfold.
Azazel poofs into the hallway, and offers his hand. "Come. This is faster."
Alex doesn't hesitate to grip the red mutant's hand, but he does shut his eyes when they teleport. The whole thing makes him somewhat nauseous.
When he opens his eyes a moment later, they're standing in the conference room. Alex had seen it before and it'd been empty but now nearly every chair is full. He recognizes most of the mutants sitting around the table by sight—all of Erik's best people are here.
"Hello boys." Charles is sitting directly to Erik's right, drinking tea. Alex wants to laugh. Of course he's drinking tea. The atmosphere in the room, Alex notices, is undeniably tense, although Charles seems to be casually ignoring it.
He also can't help but notice that all the other mutants in the room are looking between Alex, Hank, and Charles uneasily or outright expectantly. Sean is two seats down, spinning around in his chair, but he catches Alex's eye and gives a wicked grin and Alex suddenly understands.
"Hello Professor." Hank says evenly after giving everyone watching a flat stare. He pulls out a chair and sits down. Alex is sort of proud of him, not that he'd ever admit it—Hank's definitely grown into his body, in a way.
Alex makes his way around the table to sit down in the last seat available. It also happens to be the chair between Charles and Sean. Erik's watching now too, and Alex knows him well enough by now to catch his wry look. "Scotty said to tell you hi," he offers to Charles. Scott is one of the few children that Charles has actually met.
"You'll have to tell him I said hello back, of course." Charles says in his best no-nonsense voice. He puts his cup down on the table and the metal teapot rises up from the tray and floats over to refill it. "Ta, darling."
Sean has literally stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing at several of the expressions around the table. Alex may or may not be far behind him. He wonders how many of the mutants present realize that their fearless leader is fucking the world's strongest telepath, or if they just think that said telepath has literally melted said leader's mind.
It's probably closer to the later, Alex reasons. Judging by the wary tension in the room Charles has probably already tried to turn their minds inside out, and stopped just short of actually doing so. And Erik is just a fucking enabler. His subordinates must be confused out of their fucking minds, and probably caught up on the fact that Magneto is sitting next to a telepath without his helmet on. Dumbasses.
The corner of Charles' mouth is curling upwards, so Alex is probably thinking too loud.
"Banshee, quit spinning." Erik leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. Sean stops at once, sobering instantly. When Magneto speaks, you shut the fuck up. "I've called you all here because we have some things to discuss."
Alex reads between the lines. You are all going to do exactly as I say.
Well, Charles says wryly, we wouldn't want it any other way, would we?
We're going to kill Shaw, Professor. Alex thinks bluntly. So no, we wouldn't. All these assholes better step it up and get ready.
I'm proud of you, my boy. Charles says back instead. His silent voice is cold, but Alex gets it. He can read between the lines there too, after all—yes, yes we are.
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"Alles ist gut." It takes a great amount out of him to say it, but Erik thinks that this time maybe it'll be true.
Charles is still pale and tense in Erik's grasp, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. Erik can't imagine what it feels like for a telepath to have his powers suppressed; to be plunged into silence when all Charles has ever known is noise. All Erik can do is remind him that he's not alone, and maybe in a few minutes talk him into climbing back down to the ground. His instincts are screaming at him; they need to check on the others, and make sure all is still normal, that nothing is amiss.
Azazel poofs back onto the platform directly beside them, barreling into Erik out of thin air and knocking him a few steps backwards as Hank shouts. Erik snarls wordlessly, still gripping onto Charles tightly but grabbing onto the metal railing again with his power, sending it screaming towards the red mutant. This time he'll skewer the bastard—
Azazel's tail whips forward and before Erik can figure out what he's doing his tail has wrapped around Charles' leg. He gives a tremendous yank and Charles is wrenched from Erik's grasp and thrown into midair exactly as Azazel teleports away again, just in time to avoid Erik's railing but Erik hardly cares because Charles, Charles is—
Charles is already gone from sight, plunging downwards like a stone and Erik lunges forward to the edge, dropping down hard on his stomach and reaching futilely; metal, metal, he has to be wearing something, anything metal, ohgodCharles—
Erik grits his teeth when his power latches on to Charles' watch and he squeezes it tightly for all he's worth, catching Charles in midair and stopping him short. The telepath dangles precariously by one arm several meters below the platform, swaying slightly in the breeze. Erik has both arms stretched down, reaching, half-aware of someone's hands fisted in his sweatshirt, and all of his concentration is being poured down into that small piece of metal around Charles' wrist.
"Oh my god." Hank says weakly, and dimly Erik realizes that Hank is the one keeping him from falling off the platform as well. Sean swoops past, yelling something that Erik can't be bothered to try and work out at the moment.
Charles looks up at him, his face completely white. "Oh god, Erik."
"Shut up," Erik says through his teeth. He's starting to sweat, his hands shaking slightly. "I've got you, just shut up."
He sees Charles' throat work as the telepath nods. His eyes are so very wide and so very blue.
Carefully, so carefully, Erik begins to lift him. His arm has to hurt, and Erik is probably cutting off all circulation to his hand with how tightly Erik's gripping the watch, but Charles remains utterly still as Erik slowly pulls him upwards, maintaining eye contact all the while. Erik is breathing heavily, begging his control not to slip, not now when this is so important. He stares into blue. One meter, two meters, three meters…
Poof. Azazel is hanging onto Charles' waist, clamping his free arm down.
Erik groans at the extra weight that Azazel adds, and Charles makes a small noise of fear as they drop back down a little ways before coming to a shaking halt as Erik struggles to compensate. Something cold is settling into the pit of Erik's stomach as he meets Charles' wide blue eyes again.
"It's alright, Erik," Charles is saying shakily, "it's going to be alright." Erik can barely hear him over the pounding in his ears.
"No." Erik says. Azazel's tail is coming up again, wrapping around the telepath's throat. "No, it's not, no, Charles—"
"It's alright." Charles repeats. His eyes are so very wide and so very blue. "Erik." His telepathy is diminished. Beyond Erik's own screaming thoughts, Erik's head is quiet.
Azazel grins, white teeth bright against red skin. He teleports with one last poof and very suddenly Erik is holding on to nothing, a cloud of red and black quickly fading.
Charles is gone.
Erik nearly destroys the satellite dish.
