X-Men-First Class: Rise or Fall
Chapter Forty Two
Author's Word: Wow, inspiration to the left and inspiration to the right. I don't know where it's coming from but considering how busy I'm probably going to be this upcoming week, I hope it does not dwindle. Of course, that last round of reviews helped a great deal. Nice to see new readers. I just love it. Please enjoy!
A light murmur escaped Charles' lips. He rolled over towards the right side of his bed and reached out, blindly patting the spot. When he only felt his sheets and blankets, which he currently slept on top of, his eyes popped open. Rising up, the Professor gazed about his bedroom in pure confusion. He ran a hand up from his chin all the way down his thick brown hair, wishing not for the first time that these mental mirages would come to an end.
The door to his bathroom opened then, startling him for just a moment. There stood the one who seemed as if a ghost to him, clad in white pants and an off-the-shoulder sweater.
"Good morning," she greeted warmly.
"Morning," Charles returned carefully, not sure if he could deem it good yet or not. "Did you take a shower?" He took notice of her damp hair.
"Yes," Emma answered offhandedly. "I hope you don't mind, but I used your soap."
"That's not what you were wearing yesterday," he further observed.
"Oh, of course not," she waved off, going towards the large white purse she had left in his desk chair. "Emergency travel outfit." At his disbelieving look, she said, "Don't worry yourself. It's a woman thing." She walked over, rejoining him on the king sized bed. "How did you sleep?"
Charles responded honestly, "Better than I have in quite some time. And you?"
"Better than I have in years," the woman admitted in turn. She placed a hand to the side of his face, studying his blue eyes.
"Last night then," Charles spoke as if in sudden realization. "It really happened."
"It sure did." She moved her hand to use a finger to draw an invisible line on his chest.
XXXXX
Emma's lips formed a slow overwrought smile. "It's good to see you, Charles."
The man shook his head, trying to get a grip on her sudden arrival. "What are you doing here? I haven't heard a word from you since right after Montana."
"I know," she said. "Which reminds me," she leaned in, giving him a smooch on the cheek, "Happy New Year, Professor."
Charles put a hand to the back of her head, as if trying to see if she would disappear or not. "I don't understand."
Emma gestured towards the house. "Could we take this inside?"
"Yes." Charles snapped back firmer into reality. "Yes, we should." He led the way in and locked the door after them then proceeded upstairs.
"The master suite," she observed when they came to a particular room. "You don't waste time, do you?" She removed her coat and purse, dropping them off into the nearest chair.
"Emma." Charles shut the door before speaking further. "You never answered me." He walked over closer so that they stood barely inches apart. "What are you doing here?"
Turning away, Emma touched the post of his footboard. "That's what I'd like to know."
Charles came up behind her. "Emma?"
"I've spent almost two months roaming anywhere and everywhere." She walked around, taking up a seat on the mattress near the headboard. "No matter how far I go, the dreams won't end. Someone constantly calling my name out then silence—"
"Come morning," Charles chimed in and she gazed up at him with surprise. "You've had them, too."
"Too?" she repeated. "It's been happening to you?"
"Ever since I returned home from California." Charles then explained, "I took everyone out there after… everything. So, then you are not behind this?"
Emma scoffed. "Charles, I can't even so much as cloak myself from you any longer. I know you weren't outside just now searching for your morning newspaper."
Charles came over, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. "Your presence came to me like a wind of cool air."
"Hm, that's a new line," she commented humorously. "If I am of the wind, you must be fire." She pressed her palm to the center of his chest. "I felt your warmth before you even reached the door."
"It was you." Charles wrapped a hand around her wrist. "You were that mind calling out to me. I knew it. Ever since that night out at sea— your mind in mine."
Emma pulled her legs up fully into the bed, crawling towards him. "I've never known anything like it. Like you."
He placed his hand on top of her head. "Could I?" At her near insistent nod, he put his other hand to his temple then journeyed within.
"Charles… Charles… Charles!"
Spinning around, Charles found himself standing in a grand valley that stretched out further than his eyes could ever hope to see. There amongst a collection of lilies she stood. He started to smile as he approached her then stopped as darkness came from overhead. Clouds built up in an instant. With a clap of thunder, the gorgeous field around them transformed into desolateness with either destroyed or dying vegetation in place of the once thriving plant life.
When he went to face Emma's direction again, his eyes swelled as the ground underneath her split apart. She fell right through. He charged for her, dropping stomach down before the hole. She dangled from the wall under the earth, having managed to dig her nails into it.
"Give me your hand." He extended his for her.
Her head shook. "I'll only bring you down with me."
When she did not reach back, he lowered deeper and snatched both her hands with his own. "I will not leave you here." With every ounce of strength he possessed, he pulled until he had her on terra firma once more.
Breathing heavily with a racing heart, Charles fell flat on his back. The blonde came down on top of him.
"Charles." She spoke the name with awe.
"Had I fallen with you, I'd half clawed our way back up." He panted lightly. "Blood, bones, and broken. We would have succeeded."
She stood from him, hardening herself into diamond. "Broken…" As she uttered the word, her entire body shattered into heavy dust.
Charles gasped as the link between them faded.
Emma studied him with expectance for a moment. She breathed sharply when he grabbed her by the upper arms and brought their noses together.
"You expected me to let you fall?" His very body temperature radiated anger. "Have you traded in diamond for delusion? What's become of you, Emma?"
She hissed, "I was willing to help a lunatic commit mass genocide. And why? He sweet talked me into believing in him. Azazel, Riptide, they were one thing but I was the telepath. I knew all along he was demented, but I spent nights convincing myself we were the heroes of our doomed race."
"You were wrong," Charles told her unquestioningly. "But you stepped in before his plans of extinction could ever come to fruition. If not for you, we could have lost Becky then the very world around us."
"Too little, too…" She moaned lightly, tumbling forward against him.
Charles wrapped one arm around her waist and used the other to support from the back of her head. "Emma, are you alright? Do you need a doctor?"
"No." She touched her forehead wearily. "Just one of the many lovely side effects from our little meeting of the minds in Montana." She opened her eyes, looking up at him. "Haven't you been effected at all?"
"Actually," Charles responded, "I've felt my abilities increasing. After that experience it seemed as if my mind truly unlocked for the first time since I discovered my abilities."
"I knew it." Emma propped up in his hold, trying to steady herself. "You're no ordinary telepath. I think I've known that from the first moment our minds met."
"I have never felt anything so…" Charles stroked her hair. "Your ferocity combined with an underlying comfort."
She focused in on him. "You with your gentleness yet strong will. I knew without you, there's no way I could have faced off against Shaw."
Charles wanted to know, "Was it entirely about retribution?"
"No," Emma replied. "Despite what I tried to tell myself at the time."
The Professor lay her down with her head on a pillow. "What does all of this mean?"
She remained quiet, her eyes never leaving him.
XXXXX
The sun came up higher in the sky, letting even more light into Charles' room. He sat back against his headboard with one arm around the shoulders of his guest while she fingered the buttons on his pajama top.
"I forgot to thank you," she mentioned.
Charles looked at her. "For what?"
"If not for you having me detained, I might never have seen the truth," she said. "I would have been standing right alongside Shaw."
Charles smirked slightly. "My pleasure, I suppose, though it was Erik who first strapped you to the bed."
Emma moved to face him. "It's not the metal man's bed that appeals to me." She then lifted the bottom of her sweater up and off.
"What are you doing?" Charles put a hand to her wrist to cease her removing her bra next.
"You helped me," she reminded him. "Now, let me make you happy."
"Not this way." He picked up his robe from the foot of the bed and placed it around her shoulders. "I have no desire to make a perversion of your body, Miss Frost."
Emma shook her head with impressed disbelief. "The stars gave birth to you, Charles Xavier." She enjoyed the feel of his robe but opted to put her sweater back on. "Alright then. If I can't get you to play dirty, perhaps I could get you to play hooky?"
"Emma, I cannot just leave," Charles reasoned. "I have classes to instruct."
"Just as you did yesterday and just as you will bright and early come Monday morning." She used thin fingers to play in his brown hair. "One day of life— will you allow yourself that?"
Charles went quiet then said, "I need to shower."
"Hm, wish I would have waited," Emma smirked. "We could have used the buddy system."
Clearing his suddenly dry throat, Charles got up to begin the sure to be unforgettable day.
IIIIIII
After his morning jog, Erik went into the kitchen for a drink. He spotted Raven at the stove and as usual, preparing breakfast. Only that particular morning she sported a gray sweatshirt over her lounge pants. Judging by how the shirt practically swallowed her, Erik knew she could not be the original owner of it.
Raven glanced over her shoulder. "Good morning. How was your run?"
"Fine," he replied. He went to the sink and poured a quick glass of water. "I take it you and Hank had a fun night."
Turning off the burner, Raven looked at him. "Are you attempting to imply something here?"
"The implications are all over you," Erik said matter-of-factly. "By wearing a man's shirt, you're giving off the impression that something took place. You need to remember there are kids in this house."
"Oh, come on, Erik." Raven attempted to reason without using her usual annoyed-with-Erik tone of voice. "What kind of kids do you think we live with? Joey won't even notice and Becca wears Hank's shirts herself. She'll think it's the same thing. And Frank is twelve, so crazy things are already in his head."
Erik came closer towards her. "What happened last night?"
"For your information, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank and I are in a real relationship. Meaning no little sparkly magic Valentine's Day has to offer is going to get us to do something we've already chosen to wait on." She crossed her arms. "Also, if you want to interrogate a sibling you might try for Charles. He's had more headaches and trouble sleeping. I can tell by his eyes. I want you to talk to him when he gets back."
"Back?" Erik repeated.
"I saw him a little while ago. He said a friend contacted him out of the blue and needs fast help," Raven explained. "He told me he'll be home in time for dinner."
"That's sudden," Erik noted but still said, "If that's the case, I'll need your additional assistance for training today."
"Okay," she agreed then went back to the stove.
Erik gave a peck to the back of her head. "And for your information, you make me proud, little girl."
Raven watched as he left out, smiling despite her irritation.
"Alright," Erik said to the rest of the house, already seated at the dining table. "It seems Charles will be out for the bulk of the day, so we're going to have to make new arrangements." He sat in his regular chair. "Sean, I want you to take Joey to art class and Becky to dance then pick them up."
"No chance," the redheaded teenager denied. "I have a date after school."
"First, don't say no to me," Erik reprimanded evenly. "Secondly, you already went out last night. Thirdly, you'll do as I tell you or you'll have "no chance" of going out for some time."
"Why can't Alex take them?" Sean used his thumb to point out the other teenager.
Erik replied, "Because Alex takes them back and forth enough. He has his instructor training and GED to focus on. It wouldn't kill you to pull your weight more where the little ones are concerned. Hank and Alex do their part. I don't think a brief break in your social life to contribute to your family will do you significant harm."
"Yes, sir," Sean sighed.
"I want to go with you to check out the center where they have Joey's art classes," Frank said. He stood, walking over to stand at Erik's side. "Charles told me they have fencing over there. You know, with swords and stuff. Can I check it out?"
"You're trying to escape me as well?" Erik wrapped an arm around the pre-teen's waist. "Swords and stuff, hm? There's a rich history behind that sport. Not to mention what it could do for your hand-eye coordination. Tell you what." He gave Frank a squeeze. "You go on and look into it. If you like what you see, Charles and I will discuss it when he gets home tonight."
"Okay!" Frank gave the man a hug. "You're far out, Erik."
Erik patted his back, wondering why he never received such reactions whenever he said no.
IIIIIII
Strolling through the streets of Westchester, the telepathic pair enjoyed the near desertedness of their surroundings. It being a work day combined with the less than agreeable weather contributed to that.
"Such a lovely little town," Emma commented. "Almost feels like the inside of a snow globe."
"It has its positive aspects." Charles patted the white gloved hands she currently had attached to his right arm. "I've found that my true home resides with my children."
Emma's eyes dimmed. "Must be nice to know such belonging."
He looked at her. "You could know it, too, Emma."
She stopped walking, putting a hand to the top of his head. "How could such a magnificent mind belong to a naïve soul? How can you possibly be so trusting after what you've seen? After what you've seen of me?"
"You alone wish to hang yourself, Emma," Charles told her. "Do you believe everyone around me to be sanctified beings?"
"No," she responded. "Just you."
"Then clearly you have not probed deeply enough." Charles removed her hand from his head and clutched it in both of his own.
The area around her faded away all at once as Emma felt the temperature rise at least a hundred degrees. She struggled to breathe amidst the clouds of smoke. What she did manage to see through her burning eyes consisted of hot orange flames consuming the room. Stepping back, Emma felt something under her foot. Her breath hitched again at the discovery of the charred human hand.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw Charles' calm resolve gazing back at her. "Charles... Charles," she laid her free hand over both of his, "you…"
"It's not something I delight in speaking of," Charles stated shortly. "But perhaps now you'll see. I have no desire to stand as a condemnation giant over you or anyone else. If I can look beyond the negatives of your past, one would think you could."
Emma said nothing until she peered over his shoulder at a collection of small stores. "Let's go shopping."
Charles allowed her to tug him along. "Oh, marvelous. Do give me the honor of holding your handbag for you."
She sent a wicked grin his way. "Such a gentleman."
"Only straight through my life's blood." His loafer covered feet scurried along close behind her.
They entered an antique shop and perused through the fine collection of centuries old furniture.
"Your décor in a nutshell," Emma deduced.
"It's all inheritance," Charles said. "I take it you're not fond of classic English."
"As far as furniture goes, it's far too," she searched for a word, "brooding. But I'm not entirely anti-classic English. It has its good aspects." She ran a hand along a smooth bookshelf. "Literature, tea, clairvoyant men with ocean blue eyes."
Charles felt a blush coming on and looked away to examine a vase. "It's rare for me to get out to a store and not have to buy groceries, tiny clothing, or endless toys. Which reminds me, Rebecca had her eleventh birthday this past Sunday."
"How is she?" Emma brought her gaze up.
"She recovered well after Shaw," Charles replied. "I believe California played a part in that. She's taking dance lessons now."
"Those were the days," the female telepath recalled to herself. "What about the little comatose boy? Alex, right?"
Charles gave off a faint chuckle. "Up and about to our elation. We're training him to become a field instructor. His control over his own abilities in such a short time is phenomenal."
Emma nodded. "So this really is a school setup. You're trying to better them."
"You sound surprised by that," Charles observed.
"For a while, I thought you were trying to hide them out there," she said. "I never thought someone of your particular breeding would delight in mutation."
Charles stated straightforwardly, "At my school, dear lady, we're all of the same breed. Ever since I discovered what I myself could do, I've devoted my life to the study of genetic phenomena."
Emma propped herself up against the bookshelf, one hand on her hip. "Sounds to me like you've been trying to discover something else along the way."
"And I'm thrilled to say I've found it." In more ways than one.
I heard that, she sent to him.
Ah, then your mind is fully functional.
IIIIIII
"What are three of the major exports of Spain?" Erik questioned.
Alex thought for a moment before reciting, "Vegetable products, basic metals, and…" He dipped his head with a groan. "…Shit."
"No, they actually don't specialize in fertilizer," Erik said.
The young blonde formed a deer in the headlights expression. "You heard that?"
"And if I hear it again, you're going to be rinsing your mouth with vinegar," Erik told him. "Now, concentrate. We both know you have the ins and outs of these countries memorized."
"It's hard to answer questions on the spot." Alex ran a frustrated hand over his face. "And there's fifty of them just for American History."
"That's because you're making up for years of schooling with one test," Erik explained. He pushed the history book forward. "Reread chapters four through six while I proofread your essay."
"Yes, sir." Alex tried to hide the grudging tone in his voice as he began to flip through the pages.
A minute later, they both glanced up as the front entrance burst open and in ran three excited children along with one tired teen.
"Alex!" Joey rushed over to him. "Guess what I made today."
"Erik," Frank said, coming into the living room with Becky. "Fencing looks so cool! You put on these white outfits and these masks and you just go," he began waving his wrist around as if he held a sword.
"Look what I got," Becky chimed up eagerly, pulling something from her dance bag.
"Now, now. One at a time," Erik tried to calm.
Joey asked, "Where's Daddy?"
"Not home yet," Alex told him. "Can you tell me about art class at dinner? I need to study."
"I want to study, too," the child said.
"Fine." Alex settled him in his lap so Joey could read the book as well.
Though he approved, Erik could not help thinking that Joey would participate in walking over hot coals if Alex did it first. "As for you, young man," he pulled Frank over closer, "we still have to wait until Charles gets in then we'll talk about it." He looked at Becky. "What do you have there?"
Becky handed him a rolled up t-shirt. Erik held up the royal blue shirt, reading the sparkly writing across the chest.
Alex saw it and snickered into Joey's hair.
"I thought it was cool," Sean shrugged.
"As do I," Erik concurred, smiling. "Thank you, Sweet Imp."
"You're welcome," the little girl said back.
"Come on, Curls." Sean took Becky's hand, guiding her out. "I'll help you with your homework. You, too, Frank-O. Move your little butt."
Frank ran over, leaping on Sean's back. "Okay, big butt."
Alex moaned, holding the smaller blonde in his lap tighter. "I need a big favor, Joe. I need you to take this test for me and get all the answers right."
"Okay," Joey agreed. "I like Spain. Francisco de Goya was born there in 1746. Did you know he became a Court Painter for the Spanish Crown? He inspired Manet and even that Picasso guy everybody's so crazy about."
Erik and Alex exchanged the same disbelieving stare over the child's artistic information.
Alex then said to the metal wielder, "Yeah, think I'm gonna have Joe tutor me for a while."
"That would be wise," Erik stated.
IIIIIII
As sunset all too quickly came upon them, Charles and Emma rested under a tree with the least amount of snow near it in the woods not far from the mansion. Charles leaned against the trunk while Emma reclined on her side, resting comfortably on his shoulder.
"Why did you come back?" Charles spoke at last. At her severe lack of response, he prompted, "Shall I read your mind?"
She stroked his coat sleeve. "Tie me down first."
"Don't think I won't."
The woman sat up to get a better view of the masculine face so peaceful and inviting. "I wasn't always a 'trollop for hire'." Charles smiled slightly at the memory. "Once upon a time, I had special children I cared about the way you do now. But unlike you, my incompetence cost them their lives."
Charles cupped her cheek compassionately. "Emma."
"Some time after that I met Shaw," she went on. "After getting a good look at the level of hatred humanity is capable of, it wasn't too difficult to get me on board. I froze myself off, became void of emotion."
"Until Shaw proved the evil that can be found in mutants themselves," Charles concluded.
Emma smiled weakly. "Maybe I should have attended Oxford."
"Let go of the past," Charles urged her. "I know the damage done will take some time, but I am willing to help you through it, any way that I can."
She got up on her knees, fully facing him now. "Any way?"
With some momentary hesitation, Charles moved forward, embracing her chilled lips with his own. Emma returned the kiss, running thin fingers through his soft hair while he pressed a hand to the small of her back.
Charles finally pulled back, touching the tip of her nose with his. "It's time for me to go."
"I understand." Emma reached into her purse, removing a small velvet box from it. "I want you to give this to Rebecca. For her birthday."
Opening the box, Charles found a chained bracelet with a dazzling white emblem attached to it. In the middle of the emblem was a sketched out eye. Emma turned the emblem around to show him the small inscription: Never Sever.
"This is beautiful," Charles reacted.
"I picked it up while you were in the bookstore. Do you think she'll like it?"
"She will love it," the man assured. He stood then helped her to her feet as well. "I suppose this is…"
Emma took hold of his empty hand. "I keep a loft in the city." She kissed his cheek. Good night.
Good night, he called after the departing woman in white. Charles unfolded his hand, finding a silver key on his palm.
IIIIIII
Erik glanced up from his novel as footsteps entered the parlor. "How is your friend?"
The somewhat dazed Charles replied, "What?"
"The one who needed your assistance today," the wizard of metal clarified.
"Oh, yes. Things seem to be calm again. I'm only glad I could be of help." Charles sat in his usual chair then noticed Erik's shirt, particularly the Dance Dad written across the front in glittery letters. "What did I miss?"
Erik touched his shirt then said, "Expect to find one similar to it on your bed. Becky thought it unfair that they did not have Dance Uncle shirts so Joey put his creativity to a t-shirt."
"I will wear it with honor," Charles smiled. "I'm pleased these activities are doing them so well."
"Well, here's another for you," Erik brought up. "Frank has been talking about fencing nonstop."
Charles nodded. "I think it will be good for him. Help with his inner disciplines."
"Agreed," Erik said. "Come on. Let's head to dinner and make his day."
Standing, Charles followed after the older man.
After nine that night, the Professor made his way into Becky's room.
The curly haired child sat up on her side. "Did you like your shirt?"
"Yes, I plan to wear it tomorrow actually." He knelt by her bedside. "Now, I have something for you." He held the small box out to her. "From a friend."
Becky quickly opened it, seeing the bracelet. "Wow. This is for me? From who?"
"Turn it around."
She did, reading the inscription out loud. "Never… sever." She gazed up with wide eyes then broke into a knowing grin.
Charles gave her forehead a kiss. Good night, Princess.
As he took his leave the giddy child returned Good Night, Uncle Charles.