The next morning was a school day, so the younger mutants went to school while the older bunch sat down for breakfast. Their college classes had been cancelled for the day due to some kind of teacher conference. Kurt was digging into some scrambled eggs while Kitty was once again commenting on how fattening sausage was. Suddenly Kitty stopped in the middle of a sentence, she and Rogue turning to the doorway. All conversation stopped as everyone else turned to see what they were staring at, even Kurt turned with his mouth full.
"Oh, hey Erik!" he greeted, before swallowing what was in his mouth.
He nodded in return, feeling quite awkward and fighting down anger with Rogue, Kitty, Scott and Jean staring at him. He knew they meant nothing by it, it just brought back memories of being locked in a cage with everyone staring at his deformed face. They were just surprised he was actually downstairs joining their company.
Logan quirked an eyebrow as Erik sat beside Kurt, still bitter about yesterday's incident.
"Well, look who's out of his hole," he remarked.
"Like, no kidding," Kitty put in.
"I half expected you not to come down, Erik," Xavier said.
"So, what dragged you down?" Rogue asked.
"Professor Xavier requested my presence," Erik replied, keeping his temper in check.
"Want something?" Kurt asked, reaching for the dish of scrambled eggs.
"No, thank you," was the polite refusal.
"C'mon, man, you hardly eat anything," his new found friend commented, giving him a plate of food anyway, "Besides it's good."
Everyone went back to their food, the smell of which was making Erik realize how hungry he was and persuading him to eat, the students casting glances his way.
"So," Jean, sitting beside Scott across from Erik, began, "Kitty and Rogue said you're the one who sometimes sings at night."
"Yes," Erik replied, "That would indeed have been me. My apologies if it disturbs anyone."
"Oh no," Kitty laughed, "We just didn't know who it was."
"That's all," the red-head smiled.
"You've got a real nice voice," Kitty went on, "It's nice to listen to."
"Erik," Xavier said from the head of the table, "I've been meaning to ask you, out of simple curiosity. When exactly were you born?"
"Hmm, let me think," Erik tapped his chin with the end of his fork, "I'm not sure of the exact date as my birthday was never celebrated…"
"Like, why not?" Kitty interrupted.
"My birth was not something to celebrate," he turned to her, "Seeing as my mother hated me so."
"She hated you?" Scott queried, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Mm-hmm," was Erik's answer, "From the moment I was born."
"Why would someone hate their own child?" Jean wondered.
"Because…" the Phantom hesitated, "Aside from Kurt and Professor Xavier, does anyone else know why I wear a mask?"
"I'll bet he's deformed," Rogue put in, "like the Phantom of the Opera."
"Exactly," Erik nodded.
"No way!" Kitty exclaimed, then turned to Rogue, "How'd you know?"
"I didn't!" she said, "It was just a guess, and not one that I seriously meant!"
"I…" Kurt began, but Erik slapped a hand over his mouth.
"Ix-nay, Urt-kay," he warned.
"Kurt, you been teaching him Pig Latin or somethin'?" Rogue asked.
"I've been teaching him a few things," Kurt shrugged sheepishly.
"Anyway," Erik put in, going back to the original topic, "My mother was a beautiful woman, if spoiled and shallow. Thus she loathed me due to my deformities. I believe she would've killed me at birth if Father Mansart hadn't stopped her, though she would've been right to have done so."
"Don't talk like that," Jean said, as Erik lowered his head.
"Back then," he went on, "People had no understanding of such things. Those who were deformed or mildly retarded were shunned, considered less than human, undeserving of a family name, hence the reason I have none. All my life, I was treated and seen as a freak, people feared me and I came to understand how to manipulate that fear, to use it against humanity. I didn't care whether it was wrong or not, so far as humanity was concerned I wasn't one of them. I was no better than an animal or a monster, so why should I have obeyed their laws?"
"Kurt mentioned you don't like being touched," Scott put in, to which Erik shot the Elf a glare, "How come?"
"I was abused and maltreated as a child and young adult," Erik answered, "The only times my mother so much as touched me was to strike me for something I'd done wrong, which was often. I never know when one means to hurt me. It's the only form of physical contact with another human I've ever really known."
"But when were you born, Erik?" Xavier pressed.
"Yes, I neglected to answer that," Erik again paused in thought, "Again, I'm not sure of the exact date, perhaps the 14th of June 1830."
"1830?!" Kitty exclaimed as everyone looked at the new addition, "No way!"
"Impossible!" Rogue gasped.
"Erik may have lapsed into a coma years ago," Xavier explained, "The body slows considerably, one commonly being mistaken for dead."
"A plausible, if improbable explanation," Erik objected, "But then I'd have been unconscious for 122 years!"
"Since 1881?" Rogue asked, "That's when that whole play took place."
"What play?" Erik returned.
"A musical," Xavier explained, "based off of Gaton Leroux's original novel, The Phantom of the Opera."
"Damn it!" Erik cursed, "Those damned managers probably sold the story to this Leroux for profit. Once again another made money off of my misfortune! Why can't people just leave well enough alone?"
"Erik…" Kurt tried.
"I try hiding from the world," he moaned, "And someone publishes my story for the whole world to know! All I wanted was some peace and to be left alone… People can't even leave me be when I'm supposed to be dead…"
"If it makes you feel any better," Jean made an attempt at cheering him up, "People believe it's just a fictional story."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Erik muttered.
"Well, it should," Kitty replied, "I mean if they think you're not real, then they don't know that you, like, totally exist."
"That's a comfort at least," Erik responded.
"Erik," Xavier said, clearing his throat, "Come, you and I have business to attend."
"We can harass him later," Kurt told the others, jokingly with a mischievous grin.
"Merci beaucoup, Kurt," Erik said sarcastically as he rose to follow Xavier.
The two made their way to Xavier's office, Erik holding the door open for the disabled founder of the Institute. They spent hours, a good part of the day, simply talking, allowing Xavier a clearer idea of Erik's mentality. It sounded like he was tormented by manic depression but some aspects of Erik's mentality and personality did not match the criteria for depression.
"Perhaps," Xavier said, taking a book from his shelves, a volume of mental illnesses, "you have something that is parallel to bipolar depression, even misdiagnosed as such, but is something completely different," he flipped through the pages till he found what he was looking for, "Here it is."
"What is it?" Erik asked, taking the book to see the article.
"It's called Asperger's Syndrome," Xavier replied, "It is not well known and often times misdiagnosed as depression or ADD/ADHD."
"And those are what now?" Erik looked up.
"Attention defecit disorder and attention defecit hyperactivity disorder."
The article was only a paragraph long, listed under autism and described a disorder that resembled the mental disorders Xavier had mentioned but with several different symptoms.
"I think that's where we'll end it today," Xavier said, as Erik rose to leave.
"Thank you, Professeur," Erik turned to him briefly before exiting the room, "I think I will try doing a little research."