The bed was empty. Charles knew the bed was empty, has been empty. It didn't keep him from returning to the room day after day. The brother hood had had another victory and Charles watched Jean slip out of his control and into Magneto's, because that man was not Erik. Charles wanted to be angry, betrayed, but he just felt lonely. The house filled as more and more lost mutants trickled into its doors. The more lost mutants who found their place, the more Charles lost his.
Years passed and Charles found he'd fallen into a numbness. He was Professor X in the same way Erik was Magneto, locking away the mutual feelings that made everything harder. Trying so hard not to let them slip into the open. The love would make everything seem easier, but would truly make it harder. They both knew that. They didn't see each other very often after that. Once every few years, they would meet in a conflict.
And this was the last one.
It was the first time Professor X had seen Magneto and Jean together since they'd all first met in in Philadelphia, that far off memory that seemed to exist in a different life. It took only a second for Jean to scan his mind. For her decision to be made. For everything to end.
Erik stood still for quite some time afterwards. He'd taken off his helmet upon seeing Charles. They'd both been thinking about how much time they had left. They'd reached a fragile age.
'Charles…' Professor X had stumbled. The intimacy grew with the mention of his name and not his title.
'Erik, your helmet-'
'I love you.'
'I love you t-'
The desperation, the passion, the emptiness, the need, the desire, the regret, all the things that passed through such simple words. All things that vanished as Charles did. And all Erik could do was watch the particles drift away in the wind. He tried so hard to track them all with his eyes, longing the pieces to reassemble. His only friend, his only love, his only hope. He didn't care that he stood while a battle raged around him. He didn't notice the cure shot fired into his neck. He just tried to rewind. Rewind all of this back to their time together. The intimacy within their minds that they weren't allowed even then.
He walked away from the war. Walked away from the Brotherhood. Allowed the X-Men to win. He reached a park eventually and couldn't help but notice the chess board. Somewhere along his walk, the cure shot had fallen from his neck. He sat at the board. His move, a move Charles would've made, his move, Charles', Erik, Charles, Erik, Charles. He almost believed it. When Erik had a checkmate against Charles, he froze, staring at the remaining pieces. Some were on the side, captured, killed, gone. Their lives weren't a game. Erik had been treating this whole situation like another game of chess. Erik couldn't watch the X-Men lose their king again. He allowed opposing pieces to remain standing. The black king fell, clattering to the board.
"Good game, Charles."
If you want to read a sort of "epilogue" you can read this one shot I wrote . Hope you liked it, sorry I wrapped it up so fast, but if I had tried to write the whole story in between, it would've been boring and you wouldn't have liked it. Let me know what your final thoughts are! As always, I welcome honesty.