Title: The Things We Leave Behind
Warnings: Slash, mpreg, language usage
Disclaimer: I sadly don't own anything except this idea and the story. The characters I am merely borrowing.
A/N: This is an idea I first toyed with back in 2011, not long after "First Class" came out, so it completely ignores all subsequent films. I'm also taking some creative licensing with the characters and events as I go. As this is my first work in this fandom, I'm hoping it's not too bad. I do apologize in advance for any mischaracterizations as they are entirely unintentional.
Just as a warning, I will be slow to update. This has become a labor of love for me and I hate rushing my writing. While I do have some ideas, I don't know how long this will end up or even where it's going, so I guess we're taking this ride together.
This story is also posted on my AO3 account, lapc09.
Prologue: When It All Started
Walking down the hallway, wondering how he could delay his course but knowing this moment would have to come sometime ('Better get it over with now, right?' he thought to himself), Hank glanced again at the papers he held in his hand. He had run the tests several times, positive they were flawed the first time they had come back, but the results were always the same. As much as he could not believe his own eyes, scientifically he knew that he had to accept what was staring him in the face. Now the only question he had was how to tell the professor?
Stopping outside of the study, he nervously raised his hand to knock when a voice called out, "Come in, Hank."
'Right, telepath,' he thought as he turned the knob and slowly pushed open the door. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, eyeing the other man who was standing across the room, back turned as he stared out the window, appearing as though lost in thought. Glancing again at the papers in his hand, he made a decision and took a couple of purposeful steps into the room, his face a sheet of solid determination.
"You have my results," Charles stated matter-of-factly, finally turning around to face Hank.
Hank nodded automatically, assuming his thoughts had given him away.
"It was an educated guess," came the reply, quick to reassure Hank his privacy hadn't been invaded.
Again, Hank nodded. He then registered the expectant look on Charles's face and snapped out of his daze, bringing the papers up and moving his gaze to the words he had since committed to memory due to the sheer number of times he had read them. It didn't matter, though, for he needed to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere else. He was positive he could not say what needed to be said if he was looking at the other man. It was going to be hard enough reading the words off the page while pretending the telepath was not there.
"I ran the tests and they came back… Well, I really don't know how to say this except it's incredible, unbelievable even. But I reran the tests several times and they all came back to indicate that you're, well…"
"It's okay," Charles offered comfortingly with a warm smile as Hank's eyes snapped up to meet his own. 'I know,' he mentally projected.
Hank's eyes widened like large saucers before realization dawned on his face and the shock disappeared, replaced by a sense of relief that he would be spared providing an explanation mixed with a tinge of hurt over the professor seeing inside his mind. "You already know? Oh, of course. You read… because you're… Right."
Charles did not have to be a mind reader to know the breach of trust Hank was assuming. "I assure you, it's nothing like what you are thinking. I did not read your mind, I simply knew."
Relief flooded Hank's features as he let out a chuckle. "I've heard of women claiming they knew from the start, citing intuition and maternal instincts, but I've never heard of a man… Well, obviously you're the first known case. So how did you know? What did it feel like? Was it something similar to what women describe or was it because of your, you know, mutation?" All inhibitions he initially had flew out the window as his curiosity as a scientist took over, questions leaving his mouth without even thinking about them.
"Something like that," Charles answered vaguely with an amused grin, getting a sheepish expression from the scientist. "I will answer your questions, but first there is something else I must do."
Hank nodded. He did not need the telepath to tell him just what that something was. It was pretty easy to guess at. "How do you mean to tell him?" When the smile on Charles's face faltered, he added, "It is his, isn't it?"
"It is." They both knew who the unspoken he in question was. "As to telling him, I'm afraid that is a question to which I do not yet have an answer."
"I wish I could help you, Professor, but as you can see, I couldn't even get the words out to tell you." He offered an apologetic glance as he said it.
"It's fine, Hank," Charles assured. "I'll find a way."
Having no cause to doubt him, Hank let out the breath he had been holding and was relieved to know his part was done. "Good. That's good." His eyes quickly darted to the door as he tried to determine if he could leave and return to the sanctuary of the lab.
Seeing Hank's plight, Charles nodded towards the door and said, "You can leave now. I have a great deal to think about, anyway."
"Of course. Thank you, Professor." Then, just before he walked out the door, he threw over his shoulder, "Congratulations… and good luck."
"Thank you, Hank." Once the door closed, Charles added, "I'll need it."
Charles tried to tell him, he really did, but there never seemed to be a right moment to say the words.
He thought maybe he had found it when Erik had moved the satellite. Standing there, sharing such a beautiful memory, reveling in the metal bender's accomplishment, laughing as the sun set in the sky; he could not imagine a more perfect moment. But just as he was gathering both the courage and the words he needed, Moira had interrupted, alerting them to the President's address. Although disappointed, he pushed the emotion away and turned to go inside without saying anything, simply offering a smile, Erik following behind.
Later that night, it seemed he had been given a second chance as they sat across the chessboard from each other. Just the two of them, engaged in one of their favorite past times; it may not have been as perfect and sentimental as the moments following Erik's retrieved memory, but it would do because it was them. However, the conversation somehow turned to the next day's events and what lay ahead of them, not unusual considering it had been at the forefront of everyone's mind, and he quickly felt himself losing control of the situation as Erik's anger and thirst for vengeance threatened to overpower him.
"Shaw's declared war on mankind, on all of us, he has to be stopped." He thought this was one point they could both agree with, though it appeared even that wasn't entirely true.
Erik eyed him pointedly. "I am not going to stop Shaw; I am going to kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?"
Charles didn't even have to say anything as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, both knowing his moral sensitivities would never stand for it.
"You've known all along why I was here Charles, but things have changed," Erik picked up after taking the telepath's silence as confirmation. "What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us and that fear will turn to hatred."
Things had changed; Charles knew that better than anyone. Today alone he had witnessed everything he held dear start to slip out of his reach, threatening to take him along for what promised to be a crude ride. No, he would stand firm on his principles regardless. It seemed like the one last thing he had to hold onto through the surmounting uncertainty surrounding him.
"Not if we stop a war," he protested. "Not if we can prevent Shaw, not if we risk our lives doing so." Despite the word coming from his own mouth, even he had his doubts as to their truth. Would it really be enough?
"Would they do the same for us?" The look on Erik's face said it all, the question more rhetorical as they both knew the answer. Even Charles, despite his persistent optimism, couldn't definitively say yes.
"We have it in us to be the better men." He knew it was a futile argument before the words even escaped his mouth, but he had to try.
Erik was immediately ready, protesting, "We already are. We are the next stage of human evolution, you said it yourself -."
"No, no," Charles interrupted, derailing that train of thought as soon as he could. He should have known the metal bender wouldn't be above twisting his own words.
"Are you really so naïve as to think that they won't battle their own extinction? Or is it arrogance?"
That last one hurt, he had to admit, though he still would not be persuaded. "I am sorry." He understood where Erik was coming from, he just couldn't agree with him, mainly because he didn't. Maybe it was naïve, but it was what he believed all the same.
Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Erik, opting for an even more personal attack when his last one failed to hit its designated target. "After tomorrow they are going to turn on us, but you are blinded because you believe they are all like Moira."
"And you believe they are all like Shaw," Charles said without missing a beat. He also failed to miss the jealousy lurking behind Erik's words. However, he knew they were both being overrun by their emotions and leaned forward towards Erik, calmly adding, "Listen to me very carefully, my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace."
Erik looked Charles right in the eyes, never faltering, a lifetime of determination and a passion for vengeance written all over his face for the telepath to clearly see without even needing to read his mind. "Peace was never an option," he said with a tone of finality, all but telling Charles his decision was made, this path set in stone years before.
Although Charles would keep forging ahead, hoping against hope that something would sink in and change Erik's mind about what he knew had the power to destroy the man, part of him feared Erik was already all but lost to him. Tomorrow would simply be the proverbial nail in the coffin.
He could have argued, but he knew he would just be wasting his breath and opted to fight another day, neither saying another word on the subject. Instead, they simply continued their game, both aware they would never be able to convert the other to their own school of thought, Charles left with the additional knowledge that he had missed yet another opportunity to discuss what had seemed to be such an important matter so many hours earlier. Now, with the weight of the next day resting so firmly on all of them, he was not so sure. With the recent conversation silently hanging in the room, as well as the threat of a nuclear holocaust on the horizon, it appeared his news could wait yet again.
Watching Erik walk out of the room and off to what he assumed was his room; Charles began cleaning up and shook his head at all that had occurred. Then, before leaving himself, he spared one last glance at the pieces laying on the board of a game that remained unfinished, that may never be finished, before heading off for the kitchen. Maybe what he really needed was something to eat while he tried to clear his thoughts, an impossible task for a telepath if there ever was one.
He slowly made his way down the hall and let his mind briefly brush over those of the mansion's other occupants, taking a quick mental inventory.
Sean was the first he came to, detecting him in his room, thoughts a chaotic and disjointed haze emitting a sense of relaxation and mischief tinged with underlying concern, an emotion the teen was not entirely aware he even felt. However, coming from the same room was a far stronger sensation of fear and anxiety masked under a strong, sarcastic front that Charles immediately recognized as Alex. The two teens had apparently decided to spend what even they knew could be their last night alive trying to take each other's minds off what lay ahead of them. Neither would admit to the other, or even themselves, that they might be just the slightest bit scared.
Although he was unable to see or even prevent the future, Charles knew he could at least make the present easier for them. They would need their rest if they were to take on Shaw, morning was coming early for all of them, and so he sent a wave of calm and reassurance, allowing it to wash over the two until they were as relaxed as they were pretending to be. He then silently wished them goodnight and continued on his way.
Hank was next, easy to find in his lab just as Charles had thought he would be. However, he noticed a different kind of anxiety coming from him than the one he had just encountered with Sean and Alex. He suspected it had to do with the 'cure' the scientist had been so excited over, especially when he also detected anticipation and adrenaline overpowering it.
A concern of his own started nagging him, nibbling at the edges of his consciousness, but after a moment's hesitation and consideration, he pushed it away. There was no reason to doubt Hank. After all, the other man knew what he was doing, knew the risks. He had enough confidence and self-esteem issues without Charles interfering in the one area he excelled over what amounted to less than a gut feeling. No, he would leave Hank to his work and check in with him in the morning.
That just left two other people, the two that he had come to regard as the most important in his life. Although he had promised Raven that he would never read her mind, it did not prevent him from making a quick pass past her room. He was still her brother and as such was still allowed to care. If he was accused of being overprotective, so be it. It was all part of the job description as far as he was concerned.
Upon reaching her room, he noticed the light was off and initially thought she might be asleep, but quickly brushed that thought aside as he failed to sense anything coming from behind the door. Instead, her presence was radiating from somewhere that had become almost as familiar to him these past few days as his own room. Instantly he was aware of her companion as well, the feel of the other man's mind something he would know anywhere.
He tried desperately hard not to jump to conclusions, there being any number of reasons Raven and Erik were currently holed up in the metal bender's room, but the moment he had located her, he was consumed with the feelings of desire and need that she was emitting. He did not even need to read her mind as she was unknowingly projecting her emotions loud and clear so that he could not help but feel them. This was soon followed by Erik's voice resonating unbidden in his head, You are an exquisite creature, Raven. All your life the world has tried to tame you. It's time for you to be free, and the briefest flash of an image; Raven, naked in Erik's bed, Erik, and a single kiss that stopped him cold.
Sparing a hesitant glance in the direction he knew Erik's room to be, he swallowed the lump he could feel forming in his throat and willed away the sudden churning he felt in his stomach. It was also at that moment that he blocked out any further sensations coming from the pair. His heart was already breaking enough as it was for reasons he did not care to think about; not now. The last thing he wanted was to exasperate the situation, so he hastened down the hallway and back towards his initial destination, though he found he suddenly was not as hungry as before.
'Maybe a drink will help me sleep,' he thought, lying to himself and knowing it. Sleep would evade him as long as the scene replayed before his eyes, a constant mental loop he futilely wished he could forget.
He reached the kitchen and made his way to the fridge, deciding that although it was pointless, he may as well get himself that drink. While it would not take his mind off anything that was roiling around in his head, and that was a great deal, and it would not make him sleep, at least it would allow him the pretense that everything could be okay. Besides, what else was he going to do?
Rooting around, eyes briefly scanning the cold appliance's contents before happening upon his desired goal and reaching out to grab the bottle, he sensed Raven before he saw her. He had the feeling that had he not been telepathic, he would still know her presence anywhere. They were that close, knew each other that well.
"You know sometimes I wonder what my life would've been like if you hadn't found me here that night."
"Sorry, what, you," he started as he glanced up.
Knowing she was there did not prepare him for the sight that met him. Blue, so much blue, and naked.
"Yaah! God's sake Raven. Where are your clothes, pu… put… put some clothes on," he managed once he could get his mouth working, quickly averting his eyes as he did so.
Sitting at the table, she folded her hands, eyes never leaving him. "That's not what you said when you first saw me. But I guess pets are always cuter when they are little, right?"
He wasn't as oblivious as she thought him, knowing how much she had wanted him but unable to give her what she needed, what he knew she deserved. He also knew what she must think of him, unable to find her beautiful, to love her the way she desired, simply because she was blue, but that wasn't true. It wasn't true at all.
He could never fall in love with her because she was his sister first. Maybe if she hadn't been things could have been different, but she was and they weren't. He would never be able to see her as anything else no matter how much she wished otherwise.
Then Erik came along and…
'Erik,' he thought bitterly as the wound he had just suffered was ripped anew, hurt and frustration and, dare he say, even jealousy seeping in. Jealous that the two people he loved more than life itself had apparently found each other. The real reason he couldn't bring himself to stare at Raven's naked form, a stinging reminder of what he had seen, something he should never have witnessed.
It was really no surprise that she would run to Erik. The man had made it no secret that he adored the real Raven, the one Charles had tried to keep bottled up. He wanted her to embrace her true self, encouraged her even, yet Charles had done nothing but force her to hide. He thought he was doing the right thing, protecting them both, but he could see now that he had utterly failed. He had failed both of them and now he could do nothing but accept the consequences of his actions.
"Raven, I don't know what's gotten into you lately. I thought you'd be in a good mood," he said, eyes glued to the bottle as he approached the table and took a seat across from her, finally glancing up again. "Hank, he tells me that he has found the answer to your cosmetic…problem." Mind reeling, he found he was unable to stop himself as he brought up Hank and the cure the teen had worked so hard on, immediately sensing just how sore a subject it was for his sister and part of him regretting it almost as instantly. Still, it wasn't enough to keep him from adding, "You going to tell me what's the matter or do I have to read your mind?"
Raven's eyes darkened and he realized too late his mistake. "You promised me you would never do that."
"Until recently, I never had to use my powers to know what you were thinking, Raven." He knew he was acting childish and insensitive, but right now a part of him didn't care.
"You know Charles; I used to think it was going to be you and me against the world. But no matter how bad the world gets, you don't want to be against it, do you? You want to be part of it."
He listened as she chastised him, knowing he deserved it, not surprised in the least, but feeling her words as harshly as if she had actually come out and slapped him in the face. He knew part of her wanted to and he found he couldn't blame her one bit. She was hurting and so was he. They were the cause of each other's pain, though she didn't realize it, and while that should have put them on equal footing, Charles found himself more than sympathetic towards her. He even found himself hurting for her pain alongside his own, for she was still his sister, his brotherly instincts overriding the jealousy that he feared could consume him. But as much as he wanted to reach out and hug her, offer her some assurance, he knew that wasn't what she needed right now, that it would only hurt her more in the long run. So instead he did nothing. He pretended everything would be okay and simply watched her storm off.
He went upstairs, readied for bed, laid down and simply stared at the ceiling. Surrounded by total darkness, he found the room as empty, black and bleak as the thoughts swirling around in his head.
Although there were five other people in the house with him, he felt loneliness creeping upon him, threatening to overtake him. For the first time in years, since he had met Raven on a dark night much like this in the same kitchen that she had just laid herself bare in, he felt alone.
'They have each other and it would appear I am the third wheel, standing alone,' he thought, seeing the irony of the situation as the parallels lined up, remembering how he met both his sister and his lover, the way they had each been alone as well, and how they now had taken comfort in each other, each finding something that he apparently had failed to provide them. He had done this and now he would pay for it, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. He wasn't going to feel sorry for himself. If he didn't acknowledge it, then it didn't happen, and if no one saw the tears well in his eyes before silently streaming down his face, masked in the darkness of the room, then that didn't happen either.
The next morning Charles opted to skip breakfast entirely. The decision was due in part to his unwillingness to watch Erik and Raven across the table, but even more so was the result of the summersaults he could feel his stomach doing, causing him to make a mad dash for the bathroom where he brought up the few remaining contents from dinner the night before. Groaning at just the idea of food, he dressed and went through the mansion, making sure the rest of the occupants (mostly Alex and Sean) were up and ready to face the day ahead of them. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he was ready. Nonetheless, he prepared to put on a brave face and put the previous night's events behind him.
Bypassing the kitchen, he headed outside to calm himself and get some fresh air, hoping it would help settle his stomach if nothing else. Instead, standing at the railing, looking over the grounds and seeing the satellite dish, only managed to add to his problems as he was bombarded with an onslaught of memories.
For the first time in his life, this had truly felt like home to him, his makeshift family filling the halls with a sense of belonging, unity and love that made it feel so right. He still had Raven by his side, though this time their stay was under much happier circumstances. Hank, Sean and Alex were growing and flourishing under his tutelage to the point he couldn't help but wonder if this was how a proud father felt? And of course, there was Erik, invoking emotions so strong he had begun to think that this man was more than just his friend and lover, he was the other half of his soul, knowing him in ways no one else could, not even Raven.
It was all so idyllic, promising a future of shared moments, good and bad, that every other family, every normal family, faced despite the fact theirs was so unconventional. But now he could see that was changing. His dream was merely that; a dream, for today brought with it a strong pull of foreboding that he couldn't shake even with his eternal optimism. He couldn't help but think this was the beginning of the end rather than the beginning of forever, the rest of their lives, as his mind screamed it should be.
"There you are. It isn't like you to miss breakfast."
Charles was already smiling in spite of himself, turning around to face the metal bender while pushing his previous reverie to the back of his mind. "We have a big day ahead of us. Excuse me if I find myself unable to eat."
Erik grinned in turn, crossing his arms as he slowly and purposely strode nearer. "All the more reason you should. We would hate for something to happen to you."
"We?" Charles asked in amusement, raising an eyebrow. "I think you mean you."
Shaking his head and taking a step closer, appearing as though he were about to raise his hand towards the telepath before letting it fall by his side, Erik said, "No, we. You have helped all of us this past week and without you we wouldn't even be here. You really do make a great teacher, Charles."
Charles faltered a little. Although quite nice to hear he had made a difference, he had been hoping, somewhat stupidly he might add, that he meant more to Erik than that. However, knowing how private the other man could be, he brushed it off. "Thank you, my friend. But I can't take all the credit. I have to admit, my students are all quite astute."
"You don't take nearly enough credit, but 'astute', Charles? Even Sean?" Erik asked skeptically, voice laced with amusement.
Charles laughed. "Even… Yes, even Sean, despite the fact you pushed him off the satellite."
Erik scoffed. "It was because I pushed him. Just because my methods are different from yours does not mean they are any less effective."
And just like that everything changed, tension suddenly appearing between the two as Erik's words harkened to the previous night's conversation and one of many reasons a rift seemed to be forming between them.
Now that the mood was considerably somber, Charles decided this might be the moment to finally tell Erik what he'd been trying to since the morning before. Admittedly it wasn't perfect, far from it, but he knew it may be the last chance they had. One of them could die today and if nothing else, Erik deserved to know.
"Erik, have you ever given any thought to what you'll do when this is all over? Maybe settle down, raise a family, find some happiness and make a real life for yourself?"
Erik looked confused at the sudden change of conversation and even a little hurt over the question. "I think you have me confused with someone else. A wife and children are the last thing I need and the last thing that would make me happy. I'm many things; most of them bad, but a husband and father are not among them."
"You're wrong, my friend. You were once and I know how painful it was for you, losing it all, but it's still there inside of you. I can see it every day with the children. What happened wasn't your fault," Charles tried to soothe, only to invoke Erik's ire.
"Don't bring that up," he seethed. "Never bring that up again. That part of me is dead. It died with… It died with Anya. I can't go through that again, Charles. Don't make me."
Charles nodded, though he felt himself deflate at what he was hearing. Erik didn't want any more children, would never want any more. How could he possibly tell the metal bender what he'd been hiding now? He instinctively went to place his hand protectively over his stomach, but managed to fight off the urge, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Instead, he assuredly offered, "I understand. I won't say anything again, you have my word."
Seeing how hard his words had hit the telepath, Erik felt his anger begin to melt away. "Where's this coming from? If you're trying to dissuade me from killing Shaw, you're just wasting your time."
"No, though I really wish I could convince you otherwise," Charles admitted. "You've been so consumed with vengeance, yet the future could hold so much more for you if you'd only let it. You could have so much, Erik. So very much."
"I can't," Erik denied. "Someone like me… I don't get the happy ending you seem to think I deserve. I've done far too many things, horrible things, to warrant that. I'm far too broken and not even you can fix me."
If Erik had chosen that moment to punch him, stab him even, it couldn't have hurt more than what he was hearing. This wasn't going at all the way he'd planned, though he found when it came to Erik, things so rarely did. "Forgive me for thinking otherwise."
Erik studied him for a moment, feeling something was off before calling him on it. "Are you okay, Charles? You haven't been yourself lately."
"Perfectly fine," Charles assured, though they both knew it was a lie, something that stung Erik more than he'd care to admit.
"I don't believe you and now that I think about it, you are looking rather pale. The way you work around here without a thought for yourself, I wouldn't be surprised if you've made yourself sick."
Charles waved it off. "Don't worry yourself over it, I'm fine. In fact, I have never felt better."
Erik opened his mouth to argue the point, but before he could say anything, Raven appeared.
"There you are," she said with a smile as she came to Charles's side, echoing Erik's words from earlier. "I was worried when you didn't come to breakfast."
"I wasn't hungry," Charles explained, as though that would excuse him.
Raven tsked. "No, I don't want to hear it. It's Oxford all over again, working yourself to death while skipping meals. You need to eat something or you'll make yourself sick."
"See, what did I tell you?" Erik said a little too smugly.
Charles rolled his eyes. "No, you thought I already was sick." He realized too late that that was entirely the wrong thing to say as it garnered him some much unwanted attention.
Scrutinizing him, Raven slowly nodded her head. "He's right, you do look pale. Are you sure you aren't coming down with something?"
"I'm fine, really," Charles insisted, receiving two sets of skeptical glances. "I promise you I am."
"Okay…" Raven hesitantly drew out. "But I still say you should eat something before we leave."
"Raven, love, I'm honestly not hungry. I couldn't eat even if you forced me." Upon seeing the idea take hold in her mind, he sent her a warning look and added, "I appreciate the concern, but don't even think about it."
"Fine," she begrudgingly agreed. "But don't think I won't be watching you like a hawk."
Ignoring the smirk Erik was sending his way; Charles put his arm around Raven in a half embrace, kissed her temple and replied, "I wouldn't expect anything less." It was then he felt a quick burst of emotion from Erik, something he would have sworn was jealousy, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, leaving him uncertain as to just what the metal bender was feeling. Nonetheless, he raised his eyebrow questioningly, getting a pointed look in return. Deciding not to dwell on it, he separated himself from his two friends and said, "I am absolutely certain we have things to do other than standing around discussing my health. I suggest we go inside, locate the others and head up to the lab where I believe Hank is waiting for us."
Charles then turned around and headed into the mansion to do that very thing, leaving no room for debate. He also missed the conversation that occurred where he had just been standing.
"He's not okay, is he?" Raven asked Erik, worry prevalent in her voice.
Erik shook his head. "No, he's not, but I can't figure out what's bothering him."
"You don't really think he's sick, do you?" Her words were becoming hurried, on the verge of being frantic as she imagined her brother ill, beyond all medical help. "I mean, he's not eating anything, and he did look pale, tired even."
"I don't know," the metal bender admitted, having noticed the same thing and feeling the same concern. In fact, although this was the first morning Charles had skipped breakfast entirely, it was not the first time he had shown inadequate eating habits. Over the past couple weeks, the amount he had eaten seemed to diminish, food seeming to hold no interest for him as he mostly picked at what was on his plate, giving the appearance that he was simply interested in the business of the other mutants. Now that the telepath had taken to skipping a meal entirely, citing lack of hunger despite the meager amount he had consumed at dinner the night before, Erik suspected there was more to the dietary change than met the eye. "Whatever is wrong with him, Charles does not wish to tell us. But I promise you, Raven, I plan to find out."
Although still worried, Erik's promise helped to alleviate her concern. Unfortunately, that was a promise he would not be able to keep.
Opening his eyes, world a mosaic of hazy bright lights and voices, Charles squinted as he tried to determine where he was. Eyes darting around, all he could see was white save for a lone window. The blinds were pulled shut, but he could see bits of mellowed light peeking through the slats, alerting him to the fleeting sun beyond as it gave way to the approaching night.
"Charles?" a female asked both hesitantly and disbelieving, one he immediately knew to be Moira not only by her voice but by the feel of her thoughts. "Oh, thank God!" She was sitting in the chair beside his bed, had been as much as possible since he'd been admitted. Finding twin pools of cerulean blue staring back at her was a most welcome sight, filling her with relief like she'd never felt before, including the moment Erik had stopped the missiles from killing them all.
"I'm in a hospital," he stated emotionlessly, staring in her direction but not at her. No, as the onslaught of memories hit him, he found he could only stare through her as he rode out the wave of thoughts and emotions they brought.
The shared joy and pride of Erik lifting the submarine… Fear as the surge of wind swept over the jet, trying desperately to save Erik only to find himself the one in need of saving… Concern watching Erik chase after Shaw… Frustration and, more importantly, emptiness as the helmet severed their connection… Agonizing, blinding pain as the coin ripped through Shaw's brain, extinguishing all life from the psychotic mutant… Bitter disappointment at what his friend had become as he watched the man levitate Shaw's body and listened to his plans for the future… Horror as the missiles raced towards them followed by desperation as the weapons changed course to return from whence they came… The senseless need to save Erik as Moira foolishly fired at the metal bender… Even more pain as the bullet hit, sending him careening into the sand, the children's screams echoing in his mind… And then…
"I am so sorry," Erik said as he cradled Charles only to turn his attention to Moira, nothing but rage coursing from him in waves. "You! You did this!" Even as he said it, he used his abilities to pull at the dog tags around her neck, tightening them in order to kill her.
Watching her eyes widen as Erik choked her, Raven, Hank, Alex and Sean took a few purposeful steps forward. They hadn't gone very far when Erik's voice yelled, "I said back off!" lifting the boys and flinging them back, Raven stopped in her tracks.
"Wait, please. She didn't do this, Erik. You did."
Hearing Charles's pleas, Erik released Moira, the CIA agent falling to the ground as she gasped for breath. His demeanor appeared to soften as he spoke to the telepath, tears gathering in his eyes. "Us turning on each other, it's what they want. I tried to warn you, Charles. I want you by my side. We're brothers, you and I. All of us, together, protecting each other. We want the same thing."
Knowing what he had to do, unable to give up his principles no matter how badly he wanted to, Charles offered him a sad smile as tears pooled in his own eyes as well, all the while feeling his heart breaking into thousands of little pieces. "My friend, I'm sorry. But we do not."
Erik standing and motioning Moira forward, taking Raven with him as Azazel teleported them from the beach, the boys running to him as he could do nothing but lie there…
He felt numb and not just in his legs which he vocally declared he could not feel. In a matter of moments, he had lost everything dear to him and the feelings; sadness, emptiness, grief, bitterness, pain… They were all too overwhelming.
As Moira and the boys tried to determine how they were going to get him back to civilization and a hospital, he tried to stay strong and not show how close he was to breaking. But although he could pretend, he could not stop a lone thought that was running through his head: their lives had just been shattered and nothing would ever be the same again.
Mind returning to the present, he noticed the concern on Moira's face and the questioning look in her eyes. Giving her a small reassuring smile, he offered, "I'm sorry, my mind drifted for a moment."
She shook her head to let him know it wasn't needed. "It's okay. This hasn't been easy for anyone. We've all been through so much, you especially."
He couldn't disagree with her there. Waking up to find her sobbing over him and without a clue as to what had transpired between Cuba and the situation that he now found himself only compounded the problem.
"I vaguely remember convincing the CIA to rescue us. After that, it's a blank. What happened?" he finally asked.
"You passed out on the way; the doctors think it was shock. They took you in for surgery, but afterwards you wouldn't wake up," she explained as he took in for the first time just how bedraggled she appeared, her eyes tired and on the verge of tears. If he had to guess, he'd say she hadn't slept in days, something she all but confirmed for him, adding, "You've been in a coma for four days now. We were… We were afraid you wouldn't wake up."
Taking it all in stride, he nodded and immediately turned the conversation from himself. "Where are the children?"
He didn't want to say 'boys', though that was all that remained since the departure of Raven and Angel, not wanting to give up hope that one day they would return to him. As long as he was alive, he would welcome them back and ensure they always had a home. He also knew that after all they had been through; 'children' wasn't entirely accurate either. They had more than proven themselves as fully capable adults, accomplishing more than most people ever would in a lifetime, but to him they would always be children. They would always be his and he would never stop caring for them, trying to pick up where their own parents had failed.
"They're home. They're perfectly fine," Moira assured him, "but they're worried about you." Then, averting her eyes from his as she fought to find the words, absently fiddling with the hem of her skirt, she considered her next words carefully. Still it came out a choked mess, her gaze darting back up to meet his. "Charles, I-I don't know how to tell you…" Now the tears were streaming down her face and she couldn't help but sniffle as she tried to wipe them away. Taking a breath to steady herself, she began again. "The doctors said, well the bullet… They think you may never walk again."
Watching her sob for him and the loss he had just suffered, Charles reached out and placed his hand on hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's all right, Moira. I had suspected as much."
It hadn't been that difficult for him to put two and two together considering he hadn't been able to feel his legs since the incident. However, as tragic as the idea of never having use of his legs, of never even feeling them again, was, it paled in comparison to the far greater and more painful loss he had incurred when that bullet struck. For Raven and Erik both leaving him at once left a large void in his heart and life he knew could never be replaced. In all honesty, he didn't even want to try filling it, knowing it would be nothing more than an exercise in futility.
He lifted his hand to Moira's face and gently wiped away the tears, soothingly saying, "I know you feel guilt over what happened, but this is in no way your fault. You weren't trying to harm me, nor could you have known the bullet would hit me. It was merely a freak accident." Hearing her begin to settle down, he added, "I promise you everything will be fine. It will all work itself out." Even as he said it, he had no idea how it would happen, but he could feel his words were instantly calming Moira and assuaging the guilt she hadn't allowed herself to let go of. Besides, at that moment he had to have something to hold onto before he fell apart as well. Someone had to be strong through all of this and it appeared that someone would yet again have to be him.
Tears subsiding, she sniffed a couple of times and wiped away the remaining tears herself, certain she looked an even worse mess than before as her mascara ran. Putting that at the back of her mind, she hesitantly took a look in the direction of the door where the sounds of doctors, nurses and patients could be heard milling about up and down the hallway. "I should go get the doctor and let him know you're awake. They'll want to check you over," she explained, getting a nod in return as he consented.
She stood up and slowly turned around, making her way out of the room in her quest to find a doctor, reappearing only a couple minutes later with one in tow.
"Ah, Mr. Xavier is it?" the doctor asked as he looked over Charles's chart. Glancing up and getting a nod he continued. "My name is Dr. Clayton. I see you finally decided to join the land of the living."
Charles smiled halfheartedly. "Yes, I hear I was out for some time. I apologize for the inconvenience."
"Not at all. When the body undergoes a great deal of stress, it can go into an overload, if you will, and shutdown enough to rejuvenate itself," Dr. Clayton began to explain. "In other words, it sends itself into a coma. Unfortunately for you, your body had undergone a great deal of shock prior to even being shot. The bullet merely compounded the problem."
Dr. Clayton proceeded to examine Charles, checking his vitals and asking questions before stating, "You appear to be quite fine, other than the obvious. No apparent brain damage. It's just..." He then glanced warily back down at the chart again, Charles feeling his unease and hearing snippets of dread rolling around in his head. "Mr. Xavier, I don't know quite how to tell you this, but when the bullet hit, it, well -."
"It hit my back, damaging the vertebrae, destroying the nerves and making it so I will never walk again," he interrupted, a small sigh of resignation escaping his lips. Seeing the shock on the doctor's face and the pity on Moira's, he smiled sadly at both of them. "Yes, Moira was good enough to tell me when I woke up just minutes ago, though it wasn't that difficult to figure out considering I can't feel my legs."
Dr. Clayton looked flustered but quickly tried to compose himself. "Yes, well, I don't ever want to rule anything out. There's always the chance -."
Once again Charles interrupted him. "We are both men of reason and logic, doctor. Please don't belittle my intelligence, as well as your own, by finishing that sentence. We both know that is an impossibility and the sooner we accept it, the better."
"Of course, I apologize," Dr. Clayton offered abashedly.
"When will he be able to go home?" Moira interjected, the one question remaining unanswered.
"We will want to keep you a little longer, mainly to ensure you are well enough before we release you," Dr. Clayton explained. "Hopefully by the end of the week we can send you home."
"Of course," Charles replied. He desperately wanted to leave now, but he understood medical protocol. "I hate to be rude, but if that is all, would you mind terribly if I were to rest now? I understand I have spent the past four days asleep, but I'm afraid my energy has not yet recovered."
Dr. Clayton hurriedly nodded. "Yes, I believe that is all. Again, I am truly sorry about your condition, Mr. Xavier. I wish we could have done more."
Charles waved off the apology. "No need. I'm sure you did everything you could. Thank you, Doctor."
Taking that as his cue, Dr. Clayton took one last look at his patient before exiting the room.
"It's late and you're exhausted. Why don't you go home and get some rest?" Charles offered Moira once the door had closed. Seeing her face tense as she started to protest, he insisted. "I'll be fine here. If anything happens, there are doctors and nurses just outside the door who will come to my rescue. Besides, you mentioned Sean, Alex and Hank were worried about me. I'm sure they would appreciate knowing I'm awake and will be just fine."
It was the last part that rid her of any reluctance she may have had as she nodded her head in agreement, saying, "Yes, of course. I should let them know right away." She stood up and gave him one last look over, as though to assure herself he truly was okay and that she was doing the right thing leaving him here alone, before adding, "I'll be back as soon as I can to see you, maybe bring Sean and Alex as well." She didn't have to say anything about Hank, both thinking the same thing.
"That would be wonderful," he told her in all honesty, wanting to see them to assess for himself that they really were okay, not that he had any reason to doubt Moira. He simply chalked it up to the paternal instinct that had come over him since he had first recruited them. He also knew his hormones had been wreaking havoc on his body, something he wasn't sure he would ever get used to.
"Then I'll see you later, Charles."
He watched as she left the room, plunging the room into near darkness as she turned out the lights, quietly closing the door behind her and leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts for company.
"You're not…scared of me?"
"I thought I was alone."
"Would you date me? ...Looking like this?"
"What an adorable lab rat you make, Charles."
"You know, sometimes I wonder what my life would've been like if you hadn't found me here that night."
"Are you really so naïve as to think that they won't battle their own extinction? Or is it arrogance?"
"That's not what you said when you first saw me. But I guess pets are always cuter when they are little, right?"
"After tomorrow, they are going to turn on us, but you are blinded because you believe they are all like Moira."
"You know Charles; I used to think it was going to be me and you against the world. But no matter how bad the world gets, you don't want to be against it, do you? You want to be part of it."
"Us turning on each other; it's what they want. I tried to warn you, Charles. I want you by my side. We are brothers, you and I. All of us, together, protecting each other. We want the same thing."
"You promised me that you would never read my mind."
He could see now that he had failed them. It had finally happened; he was alone in the world. He had been so blind and stupid, unable to see what he was doing to either one of them, and now they were both gone. If it weren't so pathetic, he might have laughed at how fitting it all was.
He then began to think of just how many times that word had been used in recent months. When it came to mutants, it seemed to fall second only to 'different' as each of them had been abandoned by the very people who should have cared for them most simply because of a genetic variation, something they were powerless to prevent. Raven, Erik, Hank, Alex, Sean… Hell, even Angel and Darwin. They individually drifted through life without another soul, their mutations serving as a barrier to isolate them from the human population and all that was deemed normal. Even as they wandered the globe amongst the billions of other people, they could not help but feel thoroughly 'different' and 'alone'.
But that had been before. Then Charles had found them, one by one, and tried to show them that even as the world turned its back on them, he was still there.
Unfortunately, even that had not gone as planned. He had failed to help Erik and Angel while further isolating Raven, all three eventually leaving when the moment was right. What had once been a family was now lying in irreparable pieces.
He may not have been able to save them, but he refused to give up. Even as he was lying there in that hospital bed, a newfound hope began to break through the dam of despair that had built itself up during the encounter with Shaw. For although he had failed before, he could learn from his misgivings and work towards a better future; a future where mutants could coexist with humans while embracing their powers for the betterment of society. There were so many of them out there, just like his first recruits, that were misunderstood and had nowhere to go. Although he had yet to reach out to them, they were there just the same and they needed him. Even without Erik by his side, he could still provide a home for them with the love they deserved. His school would be a reality yet.
While he was thinking, he came to the realization he was wrong about something else; he wasn't alone. There were thousands of mutants he had yet to meet, but there was more than that. Although broken, part of his family remained. Hank, Sean and Alex were back in Westchester waiting for him, Moira had proven she was still by his side, and of course there was still…
'No, I'm not alone,' he finally thought, words so similar to the ones he had told Erik what now seemed like ages ago, a promise made to the metal bender involving his entire being. He glanced down, even though he couldn't see very well in the darkened room, lifted the sheets, and placed his hand on his currently flat stomach. "I'm not alone."
The whispered words drifted into the night and he knew then that no matter what happened he would never be alone again.
A/N: Please let me know what you think or if you're even interested in more of this. Comments are seriously much appreciated as they help fuel my writing.