(A/N) Thanks to all of you lovely dears for the reviews and the favorites. Enjoy your flangst.

How Do You Measure…

Chapter 10: I'll Be Your Shelter

Onslaught doesn't come to him this time. He's already there waiting for him, sitting casually on the bed. The room looks as it did nearly nine years ago.

"I suppose you could say we have two birthdays, Charles. The day you were born…and the night your brother fucked you and created me."

"Stepbrother," he bites back, shocked by how different his own voice sounds. Glancing into the mirror, he sees his reflection as it was that night…frozen in time.

"You're wondering why you always appear so weak before me," Onslaught says, giving voice to his exact thoughts. "First the wheelchair…now this pathetic, broken child…it's simply a reflection of what you are without me…helpless."

"No," he whispers, hating the sound of his teenaged voice.

"Don't deny it," his other self says, a feral sneer lighting up his face as he speaks. "Your sub-conscience created me because you just couldn't bear to compromise your pathetic morals in order to do what needed to be done…and the only way you can sleep at night is to deny me…to think of me as separate from yourself…evil…other…even though I'm really not. I am your desire, Charles Xavier. I am all you wish you could be, do, and say…the secret part of you that agrees with your precious lover…that would destroy any human who dared to harm what's yours. I am the ugliness in your soul you want no one else to see."

"Everyone…has things they would rather keep hidden," Charles says slowly, wishing he could conceal his vulnerable, naked psyche from Onslaught's penetrating gaze. "What makes you so special?"

His other smirks as he rises from the bed, coming to stand before him. "I'm special…because you are special. You are a telepath…a psychic. As such, your beauty is made that much greater by each mind you touch…but your darkness is also made that much darker for it. If you would only become that darkness…you would be more powerful than any being on this planet. Look," he says, turning him back to face the mirror. For a moment, they are two separate beings, but then their images coalesce and they are one mighty being.

This new Charles stands unafraid before the mirror, confidence and power blazing in his blue eyes like fire. A roguish smirk lights his face, as if he's challenging the world to do its worst. No one could harm this man…or the people he loves.

This is what you want, isn't it? I can do it if you'd let me.

"I…this…I do want this," he hears himself half-moan, like some anxious virgin.

Then give yourself over to me…and I will take all of your pain and weakness away.

"I…I…"

He's about to say yes…he really is. All of his pain and weakness is a far cry from this god he sees in the mirror. He can be that…

…but then he remembers the fear in Raven's eyes…hears Cain screaming…remembers Pele's broken body…hears Erik's cry…

"Come back, Charles!"

"NO!" he shouts, forcefully separating himself from his darkness. The reflection splits once again and he stumbles away from the mirror, collapsing on the bed as he stares back at Onslaught, horrified at what had almost happened.

Onslaught smirks, following him slowly, coming to stand over the bed in the exact same way Cain had.

"You can't deny me forever, Charles. Someday you'll have to come to terms with the fact that your power is incomplete without me."

Then…let it be incomplete.

XxX

Charles slept for nearly a week after the incident, not restfully, either. In all this time, Erik rarely left his side, standing on guard in case he was needed. It was left to Mystique and Destiny to explain what had happened. Everyone was, of course, sympathetic. They'd all had traumatic experiences of their own, so they were determined to allow their mentor as much time as he needed to recover. Beast took up Erik's slack in the kitchen, and the group tried to stay out of disputes, but when it was unavoidable, Mystique took up the role of mediator, her judgments usually ending with, "Because I said so."

When Charles finally did wake up, Mystique and Destiny were the first ones Erik allowed in to see him.

When they entered the room, they found the two men sitting against their bed's headboard, Erik cradling Charles close to him and Charles resting his head against Erik's shoulder, his eyes barely open. The two women approached the bed with their hands clasped.

"How're you doing?" Mystique asked her brother, who slowly lifted his head from Erik's shoulder.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"I…I'm sorry I never told you."

"No, it…I'm sorry, too," he said, reaching for her free hand.

"For what?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"For running away…for whatever I did that night…for making you bear the burden of it all alone. I'm a terrible brother."

"None of that," Mystique said indignantly, slapping his hand gently away. "You're the one who's been hurt here."

"Yes, but…I've been oblivious for the past nine years. You've had to deal with what happened to me…and what I did."

Mystique shot a brief glance toward Erik at this and he shook his head, silently ordering her not to push it.

"Mystique…what happened to Jamie? Do you know?"

"He's doing well. Last I heard, he was studying psychology at Yale."

"Heh, psychology. That's nice. Maybe I did leave an impression on him after all."

"I'm sure you did."

"So how's our little one?" Charles asked, turning his attention to Destiny, who rested her free hand on the barely visible swell of her stomach.

"Hank says she's doing well, developing properly. There still isn't much to see on the ultrasounds, though."

"Oh, well," Charles sighed. He was about to ask more when he suddenly noticed the way the two women were holding hands. He looked up at his sister with a question in his eyes, which she answered with a smile and a nod. Charles' own face lit up at this. "Heheh, I'd been wondering. I'm very happy for the two of you. Though…do I need to have a friendly, big brother type chat with you, Destiny?"

Destiny shrugged casually at this. "If you're so inclined, but I'd say your sister can handle herself pretty well."

"I'd ask you what your intentions are, but…who am I kidding? You already know exactly where the relationship's heading, anyway."

"I do," she said, sharing a teasing smile with her lover.

"How are…Artemis and Havok doing?" Charles asked suddenly, pitching the question to the group at large.

"They're…doing all right," Erik answered slowly. When Charles gave him a slightly panicked look, Erik rushed to reassure him. "It's not like before. They're still speaking to each other. It's just…something's different between them. We don't really know what."

"Well, let's have a little look," Charles said, sitting up and pressing two fingers to his temple.

"Charles," Mystique started.

"Don't worry. If whatever it is is apparent to all of you, it'll be at the front of their minds. It won't take much-"

Whatever he'd been about to say was abruptly cut off when he came into contact with Artemis' mind. Of course, she was torn up over the events of the past week, feeling they were somehow her fault…but there were also images of Havok he could have lived his life without seeing.

"Oh…"

Havok's mind was much the same…and the images of Artemis he could have done with even less, feeling almost dirty for beholding even that tiny glimpse.

"Oh…"

"Oh…what?" Erik asked.

"Well…let's just say, a typical pair of teenagers."

XxX

The 'typical pair of teenagers' was currently to be found in one of the estate's many gardens, throwing punches and kicks at each other. Artemis had insisted Havok teach her at least some basic fighting moves, which he'd initially been surprised by, considering some of the things she could do, but she'd explained to him that she felt her power might give her an unfair advantage. After remembering what had happened to her father, she'd told him she wanted to be able to fight on a more equal footing with other people…and she wanted to be able to fight. If she was going to be part of their family, she knew she had to be able to assist them in their battle against the Hellfire Club, and her instincts were geared toward hunting, not fighting.

Artemis was doing well thus far. She was a quick learner…had to be, really. Havok coached her as she threw blows at him, catching each one and commenting on her form every time.

"Good…make sure you keep your elbows in. Try a kick," he said, ready for her when her leg came flying up to about the height of his shoulder. This, he also blocked, but only just. Artemis' kicks were much stronger than her punches, and he'd guessed this was due to the leg strength she'd built up running as much as she did.

Unfortunately, the near miss with the kick caused him to miss her next punch, which landed square on his jaw. He stumbled backward several feet, cursing quietly.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she apologized, running to him, but he was already smiling proudly as he rubbed his sore jaw.

"No, it's all right. You actually hit me. That was good."

Artemis was about to say more when a clap of thunder sounded overhead. The sky had been threatening rain all day and now, quite suddenly, the clouds burst open and the threatened weather began in full force.

Havok's first thought was to head back inside, but that would take too long, so he started running toward a nearby gazebo, Artemis close behind. Once they were under cover, the wolf girl immediately turned back to watch the downpour, her face lit with excitement. Havok, on the other hand, couldn't quite help looking elsewhere, seeing that the damage he'd hoped to prevent had already been done. Of course the rain had to start so fast, and of course Artemis had to be wearing a thin, white shirt, which was now soaked, and of course he had a completely unhindered view of her…wait…what…oh, shit.

"Uh…Artemis…are you not…wearin' anything under that?" he asked, struggling not to choke on his own words as he averted his gaze, his face going a violent shade of red.

"No," she answered matter-of-factly as she turned to look at him. "I hate those things. I don't really wear the underwear, either. It's all just too tight."

Completely unbidden, a heated tremor swept through his body at her words. He knew the feeling; of course he did…but he shouldn't be feeling it toward her.

He'd been quite the ladies' man back home. When he wanted a girl, he took her…provided she was willing, of course…but Artemis was different. She was his friend, and he shouldn't be thinking about her this way…especially considering the age difference.

Unlike Pele, Artemis had been of an age to remember when her birthday was and how old she was. She had been born in 1948 and she would be fifteen on June 16th…whereas he was nineteen, already halfway to twenty. It wasn't right…for him to be thinking about her like this.

But Artemis wasn't like other fourteen-year-olds, was she, the lustful part of his nature argued. In the wolf pack she'd lived with, she'd been considered an adult, a full-fledged member of the hunt…able to take care of herself…but where did that leave her now?

"Alex?" she asked quietly, concern shining in her eyes when she saw the way he was looking at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quietly, looking away again.

"You're lying," she said, the look in her eyes going distant as she moved closer to him, burying her nose in his chest.

"What…what are you doing?" he asked, his body stiffening in both terror and want.

Eventually, she looked up at him, but she didn't back away.

"I know…you think of me as being young," she said as she reached up to touch his cheek, the look of want in her eyes matching his. "But I also know…the scent of a male who wants a female."

"Artemis-" he tried to argue, though he couldn't quite help leaning into the touch of her hand.

"I want you, too…Alex," she said honestly. "My body is so hot…and aching…whenever I think of you. My heart is beating so fast…can you feel it?" she asked, pressing her chest to his and grinding her hips gently against his. He did feel it…he felt the heat of her…and the softness of her…the curve of her body against his…and he felt his own body react to her. He moaned rather loudly as she continued to rub against him. God, but he could come with just this.

As he wrapped his arms around her, though, another nagging voice started up in the back of his head. She hadn't kissed him…she'd gone directly to pleasuring him. What would she know about this kind of kissing? She'd gone into the forest at the age of eight…before she'd even had the faintest inkling of feelings like this. What she knew about sex, she'd learned from wolves…and she had no real conception of what sort of place it held in human society. Artemis may have been able to take care of herself, but in so many other ways, she was still so young. Even though he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone else in his life…he couldn't just take advantage of her like this.

"We can't…be doing this," he finally managed to say, grabbing her shoulders and gently but firmly pushing her away.

"Why not?" she asked, the look on her face nearly breaking his heart. "Was I…wrong?"

"No…no. I do…I do want you…Artemis…but I don't think you understand what this means. You and me…we're not ready…to do this."

Artemis nodded. She didn't really understand, but she would abide by his wishes. Before she could say anything more, though, he moved away from her, heading off through the rain to god-knew-where, leaving her standing, cold, wet, and alone.

What…what did I just do?

XxX

He can hear the sound of Rain.

Cain and Onslaught are standing on either side of him, hissing in his ears.

"Freak! Fag!" Cain hisses, digging his fingers into his arm.

"Useless…weak…needy," Onslaught whispers to him, caressing his ear with his tongue in between words.

Then it's his mother standing before him, her face cold and unmoved as she says, "You were unwanted. You're worthless."

Charles shakes his head in misery, wishing he could just collapse, but Onslaught and Cain won't allow that.

As all the words repeat themselves endlessly in his head, still he hears the sound of Rain.

He can hear the sound of Rain.

He's back in Schmidt's torture chamber…the ghosts of his family flitting about his head…

"You didn't protect us…" they whisper to him, icy fingers digging into every part of him. Mama is the loudest of all.

"Why didn't you save me?"

"I tried!"

Rain splatters against the windowpane as a hand rests against his shoulder. He turns to see…well…he's not sure. One minute, it seems to be Schmidt…the next, it's Shaw.

"Isn't that sweet. Little Erik Lehnsherr thinks he can be a father."

"It's none of your God damn business!"

"My little Erik, just look at yourself. You couldn't even protect Charles. What makes you think you can protect a helpless infant?"

"She's my daughter," he hisses quietly…warning.

"And I'll take her from you…just like I took your mother…and Charles. You didn't really save him. Deep down, you know that. There's some part of both of you that's always going to belong to me…and pieces of Charles that will always belong to Cain and Onslaught. You can't save him…and you can't save your baby girl, either."

As the words pour into him…penetrating…still he hears the sound of Rain.

The sound grows steadily louder, pounding against the buildings with a fury, slowly drowning out everything else. As the Rain lashes down, it begins to wash everything away. The walls of Charles' bedroom begin to dissolve, along with the bed where he'd suffered so much pain. Block Ten also dissolves around Erik, vanishing silently into the misty Rain.

After what feels like an eternity, they find themselves standing on a grassy field, soaking wet as the Rain continues to pour down on them.

"Erik…"

"Charles…"

Hesitantly, they reach for each other…and found themselves waking up in bed, hands gently caressing each other's faces.

"Did we just-" Erik started to ask. Charles nodded as he sat up, climbing slowly out of bed, as if in a trance. Erik was about to ask what he was doing when he suddenly realized what sound was drawing him.

Rain.

It was raining hard outside…had been for the past few days. Grey dawn could be seen just beyond their window, but more prominent against the glass was the lashing of the raindrops…a spring storm to wash away the winter.

Charles moved to the window, drawing it wide open. Erik followed him quickly, uncertain of his intentions, but just as he wrapped his arms around the telepath's waist, he simply leaned his head out a little ways, allowing the water droplets to splash against his face.

"Raine," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Rain…washes away what's past…makes the world new again. Erik…our little girl…that's her name. Raine."

"Raine Xavier," Erik said, giving it a try. "I like it."

"Just my name?" Charles questioned, glancing back at him.

"You know we can't use mine. I'm supposed to be dead after all."

"I suppose that's true…but we will have something German for her middle name," Charles said, leaning back into his lover's arms.

"If you insist," Erik said, teasingly capturing Charles' lips as the Rain splashed onto them.

XxX

"Is this rain ever going to let up?" Selene pouted as she gazed out one of the trailor's windows. The rain had been falling just outside a week and they'd been trapped inside that entire time while Wyngarde basked in the flow of nightmare material coming from the mansion, trying to decide who his first victim would be. Selene, on the other hand, hated the damp and the early spring chill.

"I swear, my dear, you must have been a cat in another life, the way you behave," the illusionist said smugly as he glanced at her.

"Well…you could say that," Selene said with no small amount of vanity in her voice. She certainly didn't look it, but the dark-haired mutant was well over three thousand years old. She was what people called an energy vampire. Her mutation was that she could drain the life force of another in order to sustain her own. Her first life had been in the ancient nation of Egypt, where she'd been worshipped as a goddess of cats. She'd lived many different lives following that one, so to say what she'd been in another life wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility.

"In that case, I'd say you do your fellow felines proud."

"So have you made a decision yet?"

"I think so," he said, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. "This boy…Alex Summers…they call him Havok. He has guilt, anger, hatred, frustration…more over, he has the typical urges of a teenager, plus an intense focus for those urges. More importantly, he has love, and that can be turned against him."

"A typical young man?" Selene asked, smirking at the thoughts her partner's words inspired.

"Oh, yes. Alex Summers is ripe for slaughter."

XxX

(A/N) Again, no real notes this time. Ready to bust out a big can of illusion-style nightmare on our little band of mutants?