Of Hearth and Home

Chapter Thirteen: Still Crazy After All These Years

Xavier picked up the phone. The dial tone beeped several times before it sounded its normal tone. What? He thought Messages?

He dialed his own number and entered his four-digit code.

"You have three messages." The voice told him. "Message one: " There was a brief moment of background noise before the caller hung up the phone. "End of first message." The voice told him again.

"Message Two: " The voice said in it's cold and uninterested tone. And again, almost immediately, the caller hung up.

Blast it! Xavier thought. Who has time for this?

"Message three: " The voice announced.

"Charles." The new voice announced. "It's Eric."

Xavier's eyebrows raised as he pressed his ear to the receiver.

"I do not know why I have not been able to reach you …"

This call must have come in while I was recovering from my session with Derek. Xavier realized.

"But, I have been informed that an old … acquaintance … of mine is currently enjoying your hospitality. I do not know what name he is currently using, but his somewhat lyrical speech patterns should be enough to verify his identity to us both. While I have no desire to reopen our endless debate about people's worth and motivations … I feel I must warn you about this man."

Xavier's mind reeled slightly. Despite the fact that they had spoken recently, Eric had not initiated a simple phone call in many years. And he sounded worried.

"He is not one of your students or instructors Charles. And he is not to be trusted. You should consider him a threat to every life you hold near or dear. He bears the taint of a life of excess and indulgence. Please, if we were ever friends, heed my words."

Xavier froze in place. If we were ever friends …

"Charles …" Eric said quietly. "He's the kind of man who would kill his own parents."

Xavier's blood went cold.

"Without hesitation." Magneto's recorded voice finished. "I speak of an actual event in this case Charles."

"I can only pray that this warning has reached you in time. May luck and fate be with you all."

Click.

"End of new messages." The familiar voice intoned. "If you would like to make a call …"

Xavier hung up the phone and sighed loudly. He desperately wanted to lay his head down on his desk and bury his face in his arms, ignoring the world and it's lyrical yet personable madmen. But of course, he could not.

Xavier reached out with is mind and felt the mind of Hank McCoy. Hank was rereading Macbeth and enjoying it immensely. Xavier hated to interrupt.

A moment later Hank had joined Xavier in his office and been briefed as to the content of the phone call.

"I really don't know what to say." Hank repeated himself – again.

"Nor I." Xavier replied. "And despite my belief that this was a warning in good faith – I do not see myself turning Derek out in to the street without something a little more concrete."

Beast shook his head. "I've reviewed all the data Kurt collected on him under the name Calvin Carlyle and what Rogue found indicating his real name. And no where in there was there a single mention of violence or indication that he was anything more than a happy-go-lucky rock-n-roller."

"I must confess." Xavier leaned across his desk as he spoke. "My inability to read his thoughts or intentions … disturbs me under these conditions."

"That's totally understandable." Hank replied. "And I'll be the first to admit that behind closed doors, I find it very easy to question his intentions."

"Behind closed doors." Xavier commented.

"Well, yes." Hank thought for a moment. "But all these … facts I suppose you would call them – How he manipulated his way in to the mansion, pressed me for silence, and even if he did kill his parents …" Hank shivered. "So far, all these things have been very … understandable."

Beast pursed his lips. "I know we don't discuss it very often, but our very own Wolverine is a classic example of how easy it might be to condemn a man on the strength of 'facts' alone."

The Professor nodded. "A past he is unable to reveal or even properly recall."

"Sworn enemies like Sabertooth with whom he was once friends and now conducts blood feuds to the death." Hank supplied.

"And … " Xavier winced. "Even he admits to having killed."

"It all sounds pretty incriminating." Beast remarked. "Unless you know him."

Xavier nodded. "Behind closed doors you mean."

Hank agreed with a solemn nod. "Because we both know from our own firsthand understanding of Logan that no matter how true any of that is – He would lay down his life for you, the institute, the students, or the world."

"Of course." Xavier waved dismissively. "But can we say anything similar for Derek?"

"I can." Hank told him. "When you collapsed after trying to probe his mind – all I needed to say was 'Help me get him to the infirmary' and he scooped you up under your arms. The next thing I knew, I had you by the feet and had to let go of you so that I could prepare the room. He was covered in your blood Professor. It was all over his arms and in the hair of his beard."

"Oh, God." Xavier despised the picture that Hank was painting.

"And when I turned back, opening the door that had closed between us, Logan was attacking him."

Xavier winced.

"And, knowing that he was the target, he moved to draw Logan - away from you." Beast's eyes were large and soulful. "I've thought about it a lot since we've learned more about him, and I'm all but convinced that he was baiting Logan. That's how he stayed one step ahead almost the whole time. He was purposefully leaving himself open for certain attacks. And when Logan went for those 'weaknesses' …" Beast shook his head. "My point is this – he was willing to leave himself open – to attacks by Logan no less – because he felt that it was the best option available."

Xavier took a deep breath in through his nose.

"Have we even considered that maybe he's not the same person that Mystique and Magneto remember form their past? That maybe he's grown as a person since then?" Beast asked, his soulful eyes now brimming with empathy.

"You trust him, don't you?" Xavier asked.

"It may be easier for me. He trusted me first – with the blood sample – and his true identity."

Xavier nodded and steepled his fingers before him. "And you've spent time with him, gotten to know him?" Xavier cast a deep stare in to Beast eyes. "And what have you learned?"

Hank smiled slightly. "He expressed an interest in our classes, particularly Kurt's schedule. He finds Storm very attractive. I've yet to see him do anything more violent than stomping the floor in the danger room. Even when Logan or Rogue attacked him directly."

Xavier nodded as he absorbed this information.

"And despite the fact that Kitty was terrified of him after hearing from the Brotherhood – she spent more than an hour listening to him play my old guitar down in the front room. He made her laugh several times and when she left, she stopped to hug him and thank him for some kind of 'advice'." Beast shrugged. "If I didn't know better I would say he's just some normal guy on vacation. He's soaking up the local color and pretty well relaxed for someone who is forever being blindsided by angry mutants."

Xavier smiled. He no longer felt as though he were behind a closed door.

"At the moment, I am inclined to agree with you. But I do feel that we must be cautious. I want to meet with the students. Individually. All of them except Kurt. I want to know if they've noticed anything we've missed." He gave a small smile. "After all, we do know that when he does attack, he does so with some degree of finality."

Beast smirked slightly and considered this. "He does indeed. It's a wise precaution." He said at last.

"Please, if you would be so kind, send Scott in when you leave. I'll start with him and then have him fetch the next student." Xavier smiled slightly. "Hopefully, there will be nothing to report."

"Whatever they've noticed," Beast suggested "Lets look for explanations before we confront him. I'm tired of playing catch-up where he's concerned."

"On that, we are agreed." Xavier told him. "One hundred percent."

While across town, a dark and foreboding form sank slowly to the earth below. Swathed in armor and arrogance, with a sneer upon his lips as he stared down at his Acolytes in training, Magneto – The Master of Magnetism – Had arrived in Bayville.