Requiem

Setting: Three years after PD Season 2. A few years back in the 'corrected' post-DOFP universe.

Summary: Ned discovered his mutation when he was nine. He was lucky enough to find a partner that thought his power was a gift, not an abomination - even more so when his powers brought back his childhood sweetheart. But nothing lasts forever. There's nothing left for him in Papen County. This is the end. Or is it?

Warnings: Angst like whoa. Character death. Suicide and overall dark themes at the beginning.

tremolo

rapid reiteration of a single note or alternating notes to produce a trembling effect, indicative of tension

Ned couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a sunrise.

The sun broke over the hills of upstate New York, bathing naked tree branches in a rosy glow. They had been in hiding for months, sinking into the bustling anonymity of cities and only daring to go outside under cover of darkness. Their waking hours had melted into variations on the same eternal night, yet the rising sun gave him the sense of a narrative - as though the events of his life were progressing rather than shattering into pieces.

The winter morning was breathtaking in loveliness, but he was numb to it. He was overcome with a peculiar sensation of detachment, as though everything he experienced were happening to someone else.

A smothering weight had settled on his lungs, making it impossible to draw a full breath. When he stopped to think, his mind raced uncontrollably. He couldn't force himself to concentrate long enough to determine what he ought to be panicking about. All his anxieties blended into a monotonous buzz. It was too hard to pick out anything coherent. Rather than allowing himself to be swept away in the tide of screaming fear, he rose above. Ned stared into the distant fields, clinging lightly to the throb of the boxer's fracture in the fourth metacarpal of his left hand to keep from drifting away.

If he let himself go too far, he knew that he wouldn't want to come back. It hurt here.

He used to be extremely self-conscious. He'd taken great effort to keep himself contained - no swinging arms or grand gestures allowed. Olive used to joke about how wound up he was. He didn't feel wound up now. He felt hollow.

Ned stood by the window behind the desk in the grand office. His right hand was stuffed in his pocket, his left bound up in a sling covering a thick fabric splint. Following their solemn return flight, Jean had bandaged his arms up to his elbows and cleaned out the older wound on his chest. She'd also found him a plain black shirt to wear, his slashed and bloody clothing having taken up residence in the trash. They'd left him alone in the infirmary to get some rest.

Like that was going to happen anytime soon.

The door creaked shut and he heard a faint sound of a motor. "You must be Ned. I'm Professor Charles Xavier."

He turned reflexively, recognizing on some level that he owed this man a debt of gratitude. "Yes, sir." Ned replied softly. The man in the wheelchair was giving him a look of inscrutable concern. Habit attempted to force his face into the semblance of pleasantness. "Logan told me you're the one I have to thank for getting me out. So, thank you."

"You're quite welcome." The professor replied, directing his chair over to the desk. Wizened blue eyes examined Ned carefully, lingering on the bandages. "How are you feeling?"

Raw. Empty, except for a time bomb of tension in the pit of his stomach and the constricting band around his chest.

Ned half-shrugged. "Glad I'm not in a lab right now." He said in a dull voice.

Xavier did not return his levity. The older man's expression softened. "Ned, I want to take a moment and apologize for the actions of my associates, for any false impressions they might have given to provoke you. It was never my intention for you to come to harm. I am truly very sorry."

He brushed off the apology. "Logan was defending himself. It's not his fault that I'm like- this." Ned gestured vaguely at his frame, displaying bandages and indicating brokenness. He might as well face the facts: he had completely lost it in front of the two people best suited to help him.

"You suffered a traumatic experience and a profound loss. I can understand your reasoning." Xavier intoned. "Nevertheless, I want to assure you that you are safe here."

That remained to be seen. Ned looked at the floor. "How did you find me?" He asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

"How did we find you in Pittsburgh? It was a combination of superior telepathy and highly sophisticated tracking equipment, if I may pat myself on the back." The professor said, attempting a lighter tone.

"How did we find out about your situation? We have sources in proximity to some -shall we say- unsavoury figures. That, coupled with an anonymous tip, put us on your trail. Or at least, the tip was meant to be anonymous. Since I prefer to know who is trying to direct my focus, I did some research. I believe you know the tipster. One Emerson Cod?"

That final sentence was enough to draw him out of the fog. Ned's head snapped up to see Xavier smiling gently. His mouth opened, but no words came out. The knot in his stomach loosened and he felt his eyes burn. Emerson had been looking out for him all this time. What had he done to deserve such a friend?

"As soon as we are able to do so safely, I will see that you are put in contact with him." Xavier said quietly.

Overcome, Ned ducked his head. He nodded until his throat was clear enough to reply. "I don't know what to say. Thank you, Professor."

Xavier nodded graciously, folding his hands in his lap. "How we found you was relatively straightforward. The question that I'm certain you've been wondering is why."

A shiver ran up Ned's spine and he took an involuntary step back, jaw falling. He'd thought he'd escaped a life as an alive-again-making slave. He'd thought wrong. He didn't want to kill anybody else - not when he already had four bodies on his hands from the last few days alone. His stomach twisted and he wondered if he was going to be sick all over Xavier's expensive rug.

"Ned, please calm yourself, I haven't finished." The professor said, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture. He waited for Ned to catch his breath before continuing.

"I want to be perfectly clear with you. My knowledge of your frankly remarkable powers is limited, but please know that I would never force you to use your powers against your will. Nor would I intentionally place you in a situation that would force you to use them. You are not here to build me an army."

Sucking in a breath, the pie maker nodded. He clenched his good hand into a fist, digging his nails into his palm to ground himself. He marveled for a moment - he stood a good two feet taller than the professor, yet he still felt dwarfed by the man's presence.

"With that being said, you and I both know that there are forces out there that do not share my regard for your agency. I confess, it is in my self-interest to ensure that your powers are not being used by those who wish painful death upon my students."

"Nobody's perfect. But I think it's better to be unselfish for selfish reasons rather than just plain selfish." Ned acknowledged, ducking his head.

Xavier waved a hand toward a comfortable sitting area to the side of his office. "Now, please. Would you care to have a seat? I would love to dispense with rumour and hear what your powers can do."

"And then - she was gone."

Fortified behind a blue-patterned teacup, Ned twiddled his spoon while he fought for words. The professor remained quiet, waiting with infinite patience as the minutes ticked by.

At last, Ned opened his mouth again. "If my powers have taught me anything, they showed me that everything has a cost. Every leaf, every fly, every apple and pigeon and person. Everything I bring to life takes from something else." His eyes stared into the Earl Gray, voice trembling. "Every- every happy moment. Everything has a cost."

Despair rumbled in his heart, the storm clouds threatening once more. "God, we were so happy." He said. The weight on his chest sank further, constricting his breathing to shallow, halting inhalation.

"I'm so sorry, Ned." The professor said with quiet intensity, leaning forward in his chair and attempting to catch Ned's gaze. "I'm a scientist, not a philosopher; I can't speak to the nature of fates or gods. But from a mathematical standpoint, I think that your equation is missing a few variables."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He replied, skeptical.

Xavier set his saucer down, the porcelain knocking against wood perhaps a bit harder than the professor intended. Ned started at the noise. "I mean, it isn't your fault. The misfortunes and blows that life throws at you - you did not cause them, nor did you invite them. I think that you're being terribly hard on yourself. And if you'd grant me a presumptuous moment, I believe that there will come a day when you'll be happy again."

Ned made a desperate sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"It won't be easy getting there. It will be hard. It will be hard for a long time, but then I suspect it will get a little easier."

Red-rimmed gray eyes met compassionate blue. His eyebrows drew together, conflicted. "I don't know if I can believe that."

Xavier folded his hands once more. "Then I shall believe it for the both of us. Do you think that you could, perhaps, trust me until that time?"

His breath hitched in his chest, but he finally nodded. Ned leaned back against the chair, taking a slow, shuddering breath as the weight eased up. "What am I supposed to do until then?"

"For now, rest. Recover. I can offer you my protection, a safe haven here at the Institute, at least until we can determine the next best alternative. Many of the students here are runaways, so there's a room that's been adequately prepared."

"I must ask you to abide by a couple of terms while you stay with us. Firstly, until those people searching for you settle down, I would ask that you not leave the campus. After a certain point, we could look into escorted trips, but I don't have to remind you how dangerous these men are. Does that sound reasonable?" Xavier asked, placing special emphasis on his question. It seemed quite important to the professor that this matter was agreeable.

Ned nodded slowly. It wasn't as though he had anywhere else to go, anyway.

"Good. Secondly, I would ask that, for the time being, you keep the nature of your mutation private."

He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "You don't trust your students?"

The professor smiled in response to what was probably (definitely) a thoughtless question. "On the contrary, I have utmost faith in my students. However, the reality is that there are a number of powerful telepaths who, given the opportunity, might take the pertinent information from the students' minds. That would put us all in danger."

The pie maker paled. Xavier had mentioned telepathy before, but for someone who had kept his powers a secret for over twenty years, the idea that someone could reach into his head and rifle through it was... disturbing.

"Moreover, some of our students and staff come from traumatic family situations. I fear that there are some for whom learning of your abilities might be unnecessarily distressing. I would ask that you keep that information to yourself. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. You don't want a freaked out kid to Hulk out and drag me to their parent's grave." Ned summarized neatly. He wouldn't blame them; even Chuck had succumbed to the temptation. Although, the renegade Charles Charles had eventually sown the seeds of his daughter's second death - not that it mattered anymore. The Purifiers had taken care of him.

Xavier nodded slowly, a pained expression passing over his face. "Generally I advise young mutants to develop their powers, to come to peace with them. I wish that I did not have to ask this of you, Ned. It goes against my nature as an educator, as a mentor. But I must prioritize your safety and the safety of my students. Can I trust you to be discreet about your powers?"

"Of course, professor." His lip quirked into a bitter smile. "I've been doing that for twenty-four years now."

notes.

I'm done exams. I'm done exams. I'm done exams I'm so excited

Which is good news for those of you interested in this fic. Yes, the chapters are going to vary quite a bit in length. The next one is around 1500 at the moment, though it might get longer depending. Let me know if there's characters that you'd like to see interacting with Ned the Mutant.

Don't write the story. Live the story.