Hello! So if anyone here is one of my original readers... well, first of all I'm extremely shocked, absolutely delighted, and I gotta, it's been a hell of a long time, hasn't it? Almost a decade, going by the dates when the first two parts of this series were posted. It's... a lot has happened since then.
Keep in mind that I first started this series long before DoFP happened, long before we even knew that was the movie they were doing next. In fact, I think I might have even written it before there was confirmation that FC was the start of a new movie series, rather than just a prequel (like Origins - Wolverine). What's my point? This series underwent several transformations even before I stopped writing it entirely. There were at different points plans to rewrite the original trilogy, to expand on the matter of the 'original timeline' by having Stryker follow Moira at some point, creating chaos that'd involve both timelines. Then DoFP was announced and I debated between folding that movie into the series, or ignoring it entirely. Couldn't make up my mind before losing inspiration for it entirely.
Since then I've come back to the fandom a few times, but could never find the inspiration to actually work on this series. In fact, more than once I told myself it'd be so easy to just declare it finished. It's not like Amity ended bad, pretty good actually so... that worked pretty well as an end for a series. Except for one point: Salvation. The series was named "Hope and Salvation" for a reason. It was still missing the Salvation. Eventually I managed to convince myself to write at least a One-Shot to conclude things once and for all. Still, inspiration was lacking.
Now, my absolute and most heartfelt thanks to tonystarkier, who bid for me in MTH2022. What I did for her was a Cherik fanart, a wallpaper to be precise. It's called "We Made It" and you can find it in my DA page (I go by Princess-Lalaith there). Somehow, creating that fanart managed to light up my inspiration like nothing had in so very long... and here we are.
I actually started with the final part first (the one actually titled "Salvation") but when I got to the third scene where my muse whispered 'this scene would look awesome from Charles's pov'... well, I took the hint. So here we are. I hope you enjoy this piece.
Warnings: For Canonical Minor Character Death (offscreen, but still mentioned), war and what it brings (violence, blood, grief, trauma; nothing graphic, but it's still there).
Also, we have a few cameos from other fandoms. Two of them being Matilda and her mom: Jenny, who come from the movie Matilda (from '96), just imagining it having happened in the 60s. The other two are Charlie and Izzy, who are based on Charlie and Bella from Twilight, though the movies/books aren't referenced at all. I just needed a couple of characters for some things and they fit the bill.
Without further ado, here we go!
Immutable
(Part Three of the "Hope & Salvation" Series)
By: Lalaith Quetzalli
There are some who believe that time is immutable, that certain things are just meant to be, events meant to happen. You may throw a pebble at a river, it may cause ripple, but in the end the river will continue on its course. Charles cannot help but wonder, how much control does he actually have over his own life?
I'm not a philosopher, that's not really my thing, never has been. I'm a doctor, with degrees in Biology, Genetics and Psychology. I'm a Professor, head of the only school for mutants, the 'Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters'. I'm also one of the founders and leaders of a secret para-military group known as the X-Men. Our mission: to find mutants, make sure they're safe, that they have a sanctuary, and the means to train, in order to see their abilities as a gift and not a curse; to keep our people, to keep mutants, safe from those who might try to hurt us, exploit us, experiment on us; and also to ensure that other mutants won't hurt humans intentionally (as such things will achieve nothing except give humans all the more reason to fear and hate us). It's not easy, but at least I'm not alone.
My name is Charles Francis Xavier. And aside from the things most people might know about me (like my degrees and profession), I'm not quite human. In fact, I'm a mutant, a telepath to be precise. I am able to detect and read the surface thoughts of everyone around me. It's not even something I do consciously most of the time, as natural to me as breathing. Most of the time I don't really pay attention to them either, more background noise than anything else. Some people tend to be uncomfortable with the knowledge that I can read their minds. Even when I might not do it most of the time, even when I'd never use anything I pick up against them. They still feel like their privacy's being violated. I cannot help it. Reading minds is just a part of me, of who I am. Thankfully, those closest to me, who take the time to know me, to learn about my gift, they come to understand not only how automatic it is to me, reading surface thoughts, but also that it's really just that, surface thoughts, I'd need to really try to go deeper, and I only do it when it's truly necessary (like for a mission). There's also the fact that I'd never use anything I find against them (again, unless we were on a mission and it was truly necessary). And finally, they come to learn that, at least to me, it's much harder to keep out of someone's mind, than to touch it. It's like… for me people aren't truly people, aren't truly real, if I cannot touch their minds. It's why I find telepathy blockers so horrible. Whoever wears them… I can see them, hear them, but it's like I cannot convince myself that they actually exist.
Closest to me are my sister: Raven. We found each other as children, when she broke into my house looking for something to eat (she'd been living on the streets). She's a mutant too, a shapeshifter, able to turn into anyone at all, she can even mimic voices and mannerisms perfectly. Her natural form is blue skinned, with sort-of scales, golden slitted eyes and crimson hair. Though whenever we're in public she adopts the image of a blue-eyed blonde, fair skinned young woman (vaguely reminiscent of the pictures of my mother when she was younger). Then there's her son: Kurt (I've never fully understood why she chose that name, then again, I suppose I did always shield her from the worst of our stepfather, and she'd know that he saved my life when the lab exploded, dying himself). The boy inherited her blue skin and golden eyes, as well as his father's (Azazel) raven hair and devil-like tail; there's also the fact that he only has three fingers on each hand. Because, unlike my sister, he cannot change his shape, he spends most of his time home. Where both of them can be blue, free and safe. After all, my sister's motto is 'Mutant and Proud'. The outside world, humanity, might not yet be ready to accept us, but while home, in the Xavier estate, we are all free to be ourselves. In every way.
Which brings me to the other person I'm especially close to, even more so than my sister; my husband: Erik Lehnsherr. Granted, our union's not exactly legal, on the one hand because our wedding was through a pagan hand-fasting ceremony, arranged by our dear friend: Moira; but also because gay relationships are illegal in the United States. It doesn't matter. Chances are that if the government remembers much of anything about mutants, they'd see being one as illegal too so… in the Xavier Institute we're open-minded and tolerant about things. As long as we're all consenting adults and no one is being hurt, it's all fine.
The 'Xavier Institute'… it's our dream come true, our home. It's a place for all mutants to be free, to be proud. We make sure to train them, to make sure they understand their mutation, see it as a gift and not a curse. That they're safe, both for themselves and for those around them. It's not always easy. We have some students whose families are unaware about their status as mutants; believing simply that their son/daughter, sibling, is attending an exclusive boarding school. I know Erik and Raven don't like it. But they also won't force it. Not after having seen how bad some families can take learning the truth… We've seen parents disowning their children, one or two even tried to kill them (right in front of us!). Some of our students we actually found living on the streets, having felt the need to run away, or being disavowed by their families before we ever found them, due to their mutations. The more obvious it happens to be, the worse it can be.
That's not always the case, of course. There have been cases that prove that not all humans are against mutants. Like Jennifer Honey, her adopted daughter Matilda is a telekinetic, probably the most powerful telekinetic we've ever met. Jennifer knew what Matilda could do before ever adopting the girl, and she's never been anything but supportive of her. Or Charlie Swann, his daughter Izzy has the ability to create shields that can block anything, whether it be physical things or powers. While he was clearly shocked when first learning about it, none of us have ever doubted that he loves his daughter, enough that he was willing to leave his job and the house he's lived in his whole life to come with her to Westchester.
So we created the 'Xavier Institute' to help mutants. We not only teach them to use their powers, but they also learn all the things one can be expected to learn at school. When they graduate with us they can, if they want to, continue their education in any university, sure not only that they're on the same educational level as everyone else, but that they've enough control over their mutation to stay as safe as possible.
The X-Men too are meant to help mutants. In situations that are beyond training and giving a home to some of them. And while I'm a founder and leader of the group, I rarely ever go on missions. The Institute takes too much of my attention. And Erik's happy enough to handle that part. With Raven's help a lot of the time (she does have other responsibilities, like being a mom, which can be especially time-consuming since she's having to do it alone).
Things haven't been easy. For any of us. It's not like we ever thought they'd be, Considering that our very first mission ended with missiles being fired at us by both the Americans and Soviets, the very people, humans, whom we'd just saved by taking down Shaw and his followers! The very people who'd been so intent on going to war with each other just minutes earlier! I don't regret stopping Erik from sending their missiles straight back at them. Truth is that, beyond all the lives of the men on those ships, who I still believe weren't to be blamed for the orders of their superiors; doing so would have started a war we had no hope of winning. Not when we were so few, so scattered, so untrained… Perhaps a day might come when we'll be ready. Though truth is I still hope (will never stop hoping) that it won't come to war… Erik thinks I'm being foolishly naive, yet I cannot help but hope.
The assassination of JFK complicated things a bit. There were those among the military who insisted that 'Magneto' must be responsible. Nevermind that of all the witnesses they interviewed no one so much as suggested seeing anyone that fit his description. And of course I knew he wasn't there. He was home, with me! It's likely that only the fact that they knew so little about us all, both thanks to Moira's forethought when taking pretty much everything she could get her hands on before leaving the CIA; and to a little 'nudging' on my part, later on, kept them from pursuing that idea. It wasn't anything big, what I did, simply ensuring that most who might come to represent a threat against us wouldn't think about us much. If a mutant ever were to attack them directly, there's nothing I'd be able to do, but until then, they had better things to think about than a bunch of 'unknowns' who might have helped stop a war once, but were never 'one of them'. Not what I'd have preferred, but the best I could do with what we had available.
The biggest issue however, came with the Vietnam War. The war had actually been going on for years at that point actually, but in the mid-60s… that was when things got much, much worse…
"No!" I cried out before I was even fully aware of it.
The moment I saw the envelope Sean was clutching in his hand… I knew exactly what it was.
"Professor…" He begins.
I'm not fully listening to him. My mind locked on that envelope, on what it meant. I could still remember the first time I saw one like that one, one addressed to me, the letter it carried, what it meant. If I let go just a little I could still remember the feel of a gun in my hand, the smell of gunpowder… and of blood; the heat on the back of my neck. The hundreds, thousands of voices crying in despair, horror, pain… The mere thought of Sean, of one of my boys, going through something like that… It was almost more than I could bear. I couldn't even imagine it. Didn't want to, there had to be some way, something I could do… maybe if I changed the mind of the person who sent the letter? Made them forget that a letter to Sean Cassidy was ever sent… But what about those at the training camp, who had him on their lists, were waiting for him? And the people from the lottery, who had the years and dates of birth that were to be drafted? And…
"Professor… Professor!" I had no idea how long Sean had been calling me, but eventually he managed to draw my attention. "You cannot do any of that. You know that, right?"
Because apparently I was so gone I didn't even realize I was talking out-loud.
"Sean…" I began, not quite knowing what else to say.
"You can't." He insisted. "It wouldn't be right. You know it wouldn't. We're the good guys Prof! We protect the people, right? So that's what I'm going to do, and you have to let me do it."
He was so brave, I couldn't help but think he was braver than me!
Surprisingly enough, he didn't ask me how I even knew he'd been drafted, when he hadn't yet told anyone. Then again, he probably thought I read his mind. Most of my boys just tended to assume I was always in their heads, reading their thoughts, even when I wasn't… or well, I was somewhat in their heads, but I wasn't really paying attention. I suppose it made me seem more powerful, greater than I actually was.
Still, if I couldn't stop my boy from being sent to war, I'd at least ensure he was as prepared as one possibly could be. So with that in mind I went into the attic, pulling out a trunk I hadn't so much as looked at in a very long time. Hank helped he get it to my study (I didn't want it in my bedroom, but I needed it somewhere where I could go through it, privately). Hank didn't ask any questions. He'd already heard about Sean and was working like hell to do something, anything that might help him. Protective clothing maybe, something Sean (and anyone else who eventually got drafted could wear under their fatigues).
I was half-kneeling, half-sitting on the ground, in front of the open chest, several things scattered around me already as I kept considering what I was going to do exactly, and what I might need.
"No…" I heard a gasp behind me. "Nononononono…"
The anguish was such, both outside and inside my head, I spun around on one knee, finding my beloved standing behind me, looking not at me, but at my chest, and everything else around me, with something akin to horror on his face. I didn't understand, the despair was such in blanketed everything else in his mind.
"This cannot be, they cannot be drafting you, Charles, please…" He gasped.
At that I half-jumped half-stumbled to my feet, rushing to him. I let the things I'd been holding fall where they may as I went to hold him tight.
"I haven't been drafted, I promise you Erik." I assured him. "I'm here my love, and I'm staying here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Then… then all this…" He was clearly at a loss.
"I'm not being drafted now." I clarified softly.
Which, obviously meant it'd happened at some time before…
"When…" He began, then shook his head, because we both knew there was only one possible answer: "Korea."
*Oh Charles… how many times have I misjudged you?* He asked quietly inside our heads.
In the back of our minds I could see an old memory, our first day in Westchester, a careless comment about 'hardships', also some brief arguments where Erik always seemed to focus on how my economical situation must mean I'd no idea of what it meant to endure difficulties.
*Oh my love, you've nothing to be sorry for, I understood all along what made you think such things.* I hurried to reassure him. *And weren't you the one who told me we ought not compare our lives, our struggles? We're neither greater or lesser than the other, we each have been dealt our own hands, and lived with it as best we knew how.*
"Raven doesn't know, does she?" He spoke out loud, there was a certainty to his words, he was pretty sure Raven would have mentioned it at some point.
"No, she doesn't." I shook my head. "She was at boarding-school at the time and by some miracle the war finally came to an end and I made it back home before she made it home for the break. I… she was at an age back then when she no longer wanted me in her head, hated when I so much as grazed her thoughts. She also seemed to be busy all the time with her friends… so I suppose she was never around enough to notice anything was off. And I managed to pull myself together enough by the time she got past that phase and began spending more time with me again. Though she still didn't want me in her head."
Erik's mind spun at vertiginous speeds and I could tell he didn't know quite to say, what to even think about Raven's actions. I didn't really care anymore. It'd been so long ago by then… and really, we had other things to focus on. Like the current war.
"I… I might not be able to protect Sean," I admitted quietly. "To keep him from going to war, from seeing… but I will ensure he's as prepared as I can make him. That if at all possible, he won't join the too-long line of boys who die too young, never having had a chance."
So many I'd seen die, never having had a chance. I could still remember the look of their empty eyes, the smell of their blood, could remember the way their minds would be crying out, only for that cry to cut off abruptly… So many minds, so many lives, cut off too soon.
In the end I used very little from what had been in that chest. Really, the most important thing: the gun, had never been in there. I'd kept it in a safe in the library, at least until Erik found it in the summer of '62 (there was a reason I was so affected when he put that gun in my hands and demanded I shoot him, and it was only half because of him wanting me to attack him at all). Together Erik and I did our best to teach Sean all we could think of, not just about shooting, and about the military, but about fighting; not just the formal styles we taught the X-Men, but fighting dirty, fighting to survive. We also taught him everything we knew about surviving in the wild. And when letters arrived for one of our teachers, as well as Alex, we taught them as well.
I know it could have been so much worse, I know. And yet… that doesn't make the anguish, the pain, any less…
We got letters, a few from Sean (not always, as he always sent letters to his family, his parents and younger siblings), and more from Alex. It was thanks to those letters that we learned about Stryker, and Bolivar Trask, and the way that the young soldiers who gave themselves away as mutants (usually when managing to survive something) were starting to disappear. 'Transferred' to units that never received them, or simply didn't exist at all. Erik and Raven were on it right away. Organizing the X-Men, they flew to Vietnam. Only briefly. Met with the boys briefly and helped smuggle out the soldiers who were supposed to be 'transferring' a few days later. Arrangements were made to make it seem like the young soldiers died in the line of duty.
It wasn't the last such mission the X-Men undertook. In fact, such missions became pretty common in the following years. With most of the X-Men taking turns going. Erik was always the one to lead them. We lost Azazel a year or so in. He sacrificed himself to hold back the bunch of men that managed to set up an ambush. Raven held back from going on missions for a while after that, clinging to her son, terrified about him ending up alone. Yet in the end, they needed her, and she was much too good to not know it.
"Promise you'll look after him." She demanded the day before she left on her first mission after the loss of Azazel.
"Wha…?" She took me completely by surprise. "Raven!"
"Promise me Charles." She insisted. "Promise me that if something happens to me, you'll look after my boy. You'll protect him, will raise him right. And will tell him that his papa and I loved him very, very much."
I wanted to assure her she'd get to do that herself. More than that, I wanted to demand that she stay with her son, with me. If she didn't go there would be no risk of us losing her. And yet I knew I couldn't do that. They needed her, just like they needed Erik… which was why I'd never tried to stop him. I didn't want to make it worse on the both of us. So in the end I did the only thing I could in such circumstances…
"I promise you Raven…" I murmured as I kissed her brow tenderly, even as I held her tight, my insides screaming that I couldn't lose her, she couldn't die, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if she did.
Years passed. Years, and there seemed to be no end to the bloody war! It was driving us all crazy. Especially because the longer it didn't, the more people that got drafted. And they didn't always get to come back… We lost Sean. Our kind, funny, amazing boy. We lost him. Alex himself was still fighting tooth and nail to survive, to come back to us. I could only pray he'd make it.
And then… the worst happened: With Erik basically on the other side of the world our bond is strained. It isn't at risk of snapping, but the feedback we get is pretty basic. Barely enough to ensure the other is (mostly) alright, and their general direction. Which is how I know the moment things aren't alright anymore.
Erik and his team set something of a base as close to the battlefield as they dare get, a couple of days prior. As we got intel about a plan to 'transfer' a number of soldiers; more than ever before. On hindsight, it was probably a trap from the start. Raven is my saving grace, my touch-stone. She was home, spending time with Kurt and helping around a bit. She's the one to find me when I collapse in the middle of my Ethics class; gets me on my feet, makes me focus enough to realize my beloved isn't dead. He isn't alright, not at all, but he's still alive (and while there's life, there's hope, right?). We can only hope everyone else who was with him at the time is still alive as well. She keeps me centered as we hurry to organize a rescue mission.
Hank, Moira (a fully qualified doctor by now), Janos and Armando are the first to sign up for the mission. I don't even know where Hank gets the second plane from. He says something about a new prototype or something, I honestly wasn't paying that much attention. Moira insists that we can use a doctor (a medical one) and she's also carrying as many weapons as she did back in Cuba. The latter two, and Raven herself, are home because it wasn't their turn to be in Vietnam, they were supposed to be having some time off!
The true surprise though, comes with the last people who volunteer: Izzy Swann is our youngest teacher (English), just got her degree; her gift is to create shields, and she's rather good at it. No one knows for sure when she first manifested; though according to her dad, she's so clumsy, the fact that she kept falling and slamming against things and never got hurt probably should have been a sign that there was something there. In the end she was only found out as a mutant when a van almost ran her over in her high-school parking-lot and she managed to come out of that completely unscathed as well.
She's enough of a surprise, mostly since she never showed an interest in being one of the X-Men beforehand. The true shock though, comes when Matilda Honey does as well.
"You know I'm one of the most powerful mutants we have." She argues when I try to refuse. "I can be useful."
"This isn't about you being useful or not." I retort. "You're still a child, Matilda…"
She isn't even eighteen yet!
"And so what?" to my surprise she doesn't even try to argue the opposite, the way most teenagers would. "Age's just a number. This… this is about Erik, and Emma and… and Johann…"
Johann Reynolds, code-named Mech, her mom's fiancé… He's a former mechanic who first came to our attention after his boss fired him, claiming that Johann wasn't doing his job (because the young man always finished his jobs a bit too fast); the older man owned the best car-shop in town and made it impossible for Johann to build his own business. We found him as he was trying to make his way to some other city to start over, managed to convince him he could do that with us. His mutation gives him an instinctive understanding of machines, how they work, how to put them together, how to take them apart. In the Institute he mostly gives a mechanics class for our high-school level students; he also helps do maintenance on the cars, vans, and even the jet. Officially he's not one of the X-Men, though he still volunteered to help in Vietnam when Erik and Raven started leading the missions to protect our people there. His help has made a huge difference, according to my sister.
"Jenny…" I can't help but turn to Matilda's mom, who's so far done nothing but watch our argument in complete silence.
"I don't like it." She admits. "I love Johann, completely. But I also love Matilda. The last thing I want is for her to be at risk. To go to war…" She exhales. "I also realize she has a right to make her own choices. I've always supported her. I'm not going to stop now and..." She hesitates before adding. "And she's right. She's one of your strongest mutants. She could be a lot of help. Not just for Johann, but for you, and Erik, and everyone else."
And so Matilda takes the code-name Castle and joins the mission. Izzy chooses the name of Aegis, which she says is fitting, considering her power.
We make it to Cambodia in record time. It's probably not surprising that whoever's taken our people aren't actually in Vietnam. Well, I say whoever… truth is we have a pretty good idea of who's behind their capture. Raven has been raging about Bolivar Trask and his company for a while now, about the rumors of his work, rumors that he's been experimenting on mutants, trying to create a weapon to destroy us… I'm pretty sure that if it weren't for Kurt she would be the one following on those rumors. And if it weren't for the war Erik probably would be as well. And I… is it too much to ask that we deal with one disaster at a time? Probably. I cannot help but wonder, if I'd listened to Raven, if I'd done something about those rumors, would I have been able to prevent what's happening now? I don't know, and truth is that the not knowing is somehow worse than even a 'yes'.
We use my bond to Erik, which thankfully strengthens the closer we get (I still cannot hear him, truly, in my head, but I know he's alive, not in the best condition perhaps, but alive nonetheless. That'll have to do for the time being). It's how we get to what, at first sight looks like nothing more than a small one-floor, two-room house near the edge of a river. There are a lot of trees to one side, and to the other the earth looks like it's been moved recently, maybe someone planning on building another hut? Though the ground looks too loose, more swamp than solid earth, for that to be a good idea. Then again, what do I know about construction?
Riptide volunteers to stay with the jet. Explaining his power make him less effective inside a building, and really, someone needs to stay behind, both to guard our getaway, and to handle the comms (Beast's done a marvelous job with those, but we still need someone to coordinate things). The rest of us go into the house. It looks empty at first sight, which wouldn't surprise me, what with the war happening not too far away; yet at the same time, the place lacks the kind of dust and such I'd expect of a place truly abandoned. Also, the things that are actually around us… it doesn't feel right.
*Black-site.* The word comes from Moira, the same way someone might blurt out something they didn't mean to say yet at the same time cannot fully hold back.
She manages to control her mind for nothing else to be broadcast, but that word is enough. I might not be a CIA, or former CIA, like her, but I know enough. And I really, really, don't like the implications.
"There's something… not right about this place…" Aegis mutters under her breath as she looks all around slowly. "It just… feels wrong."
"Where's Erik?" Mystique asks. "And everyone else? This place isn't big enough for there to even be anyone here."
"Well, since they're not to our right, or our left, and there's no other floor above us, what does that leave?" Castle asks.
We all turn to her, noticing how she's looking straight at her feet. Or no, not her feet, but rather, past them. I remember then that while not telepathic herself, she has a certain mental awareness. It's enough to make me throw my own awareness in that direction. I hit a wall, or its equivalent; which really, is rather telling in its own way.
"How do we make it down?" I ask.
That prompts everyone to start looking for a way. As it turns out there is a trapdoor, only it's not in the house itself but outside, a few feet off the edge of the deck. It looks completely out of place, made of metal rather than wood.
"Get ready." Mystique orders. "We don't know what we may find down there, but whatever managed to get Magneto, White Queen, Tempest and Mech cannot be pretty."
She's right and we all know that, so we brace ourselves as best we can.
She and Beast do their best to open the trapdoor doing as little noise as possible; slowly just in case there's something or someone waiting on the other side. There doesn't seem to be anything, no alarm, or trap; I don't trust it to be that easy. Either we're missing something, or whatever's in there they're confident enough about themselves not to fear us.
We make it down quickly and silently, immediately realizing that the space down there is by far bigger than the building upstairs. And it occupies not just the space right underneath the hut, but far more than that. We have to split once we get down there. There are several passages, and between Castle and I we're able to tell choose three. Beast and Darwin take the passage where we believe whoever attacked our base might be (something we all agreed on before even leaving NY, is that such a thing cannot be allowed to happen again; we need to find out for sure who did it, and make sure it never happens again). Mystique takes the girls down a path that we believe might hold whoever's being kept prisoner in that installation, or at least, most of them. All but Erik, whom I can sense is down a different passage; Moira decides to go with me.
I don't know what happens with the other teams exactly, while I do try to keep track of them at first, too much of my attention is on Erik. Especially when we finally make it to the end of the passage and find what awaits us there. It's a lab, a big one. Against one wall there's a table covered in all sorts of equipment. Then against the other wall there are a couple of file cabinets, as well as a desk with a lot of papers and a few files strewn out, the notes about his experiments maybe? However, it's what I find against the other wall that truly draws my attention. At first sight it looks like a box, made of some sort of plastic, locked. It looks almost like an industrial freezer, only not quite… A somewhat morbid thought crosses my mind, that if it were a bit smaller I might confuse the box with a coffin…
I'm frozen in shocked disbelief. A part of me is still aware of Bolivar Trask as he looks at something on the box, I don't know what, before heading for the desk (his work-station) and starts writing something. He's excited… eager. His experiment seems to be going well. His experiment… temperature variation… magnetism… Erik…
It's like some sort of switch has been flipped. My shock vanishes in an instant, replaced by the most absolute fury. It's not… it's not like my normal anger, the kind that runs hot, that makes me yell and hiss and snarl. That kind of anger… it's the kind that I feel when Erik starts going a bit too far with his 'Us and Them' philosophy, when the bad starts being too much and he seems to forget that not all humans are bad, just like not all mutants are good. That anger burns hot, and fast. We argue, and it passes, we make up, move on.
This anger… it's different. It's cold. The kind of absolute, all-encompassing fury I've only felt once in my life: back when Raven and I were still young and I couldn't fully shield her from Cain. The kind of things he got into his head, that he planned on doing to her… they made he so angry, beyond that even. I was so furious I lost myself in it entirely. What I did to Cain… I destroyed him. Even if I did my best to put him back together afterwards, and then with his own anger, the yelling, and the explosion in the lab, everything that had happened before that seemed to take a back seat. Even I did my best to push it aside. But I never forgot…
I've always been aware of all I'm capable of. All the things, both great and terrible, that only my control, my morals, my desire to prove I'm one of the 'better men' keeps me from doing. I remember Erik on that beach, in Cuba, with those missiles, all the deaths, the horror he could have cause, and cannot help but think I could have done much worse… I like to tell myself I wouldn't. That no matter what, I'm a good man, and not the kind to do something like that. Yet in that moment I realize the truth. It's never been a matter of being a good man, or a bad one, I just never before had cause to act on my worst impulses. Not until now… The thought of Erik, of my beloved, in that box, being subjected to… to torture for a man's scientific curiosity, a man who wants nothing but to find a way to kill us all… it's more than I can bear…
I lose myself for a while, in my cold dead fury, in my vengeance, my justice… I think Trask might have screamed. I think but I do not know, do not really care. All I care is…
"Charles…? Liebling…?"
The moment I hear that voice, my beloved's voice call to me… it's like something inside me snaps. Or maybe it's a switch that gets flipped, again. All my attention goes to him, with him there, nothing and no one else matters. It's all about Erik. And in that moment my beloved is shaky, sweaty, with anger swimming in the back of his mind. Yet his attention is all on me, just like mine's on him.
"I'm here liebe, I'm here." He reassures me, hands cradling my face, as if to ensure my attention is wholly on him (as if it could be anywhere else!).
"We should get out of here." Moira pipes in.
She's studiously not looking in the direction of where Trask, or what used to be Bolivar Trask, lies. Her mind's in turmoil, the echo of one cry (Trask's) somehow getting mixed up with another's (I've a feeling I should recognize that voice, yet I can't; feels important, but it's probably not the time to focus on such things). For a moment it looks like she's going to say something else, but before she can we can all hear what sounds like the echo of an explosion in the distance, followed by the ground, the walls and even the ceiling shuddering.
"That was too close to be due to the war." Moira points out the obvious.
We aren't too far from the battlefront, but neither are we that close…
"Beware!" I hear Castle cry out.
"What's going on?" Beast calls, worried, clearly not where things are happening.
"Fucking robots are shooting at us!" Aegis curses. "I… what the hell!"
"We need to get out of here, and we need to do it now." Mystique snaps. "Before those things bring this whole place down on us."
We start running. I can vaguely hear the others talking about the prisoners they found. Angel is in a somewhat delicate condition, in pain, and doesn't have her wings anymore, yet she's still determined to fight; Emma sounds more than a little drugged, fighting to keep up. There are other sounds in the background, which I'm guessing must be Johann and whoever else was kept in the facility, if anyone was.
I don't realize how precarious our situation is until we all make it back to the foot of the ladder, our only exit right above us and I realize we're essentially bottle-necked, with enemies coming from at least two different directions. For all intents and purposes we've been herded, and the moment any of us starts climbing… we're in the worst possible position, with enemies that keep growing in number, and no alternatives.
It's the girls that save us all, Castle and Aegis. Working together they manage to create an effective protection, giving us a chance to start moving up.
"You go first." I tell my love.
"Are you nuts?!" He snaps at me. "I'm not leaving you!"
"Someone needs to open the trapdoor, and these things have no metal in them, you'll be more useful there." I point out as objectively as I can. "Erik, please."
For all answer he makes a rather violent motion, which tears the trapdoor straight off its hinges and in our direction, stopping just inches from us all. Then he proceeds to throw it almost like a frisbee at a number of robots.
"Well, thank you for opening the way suga'." Emma drawls as she heads to the ladder herself.
She takes her diamond form, managing to keep it up as she peeks out.
"It's clear!" She announces as she hurries out.
Moira follows, clearly deciding it's better than to wait for Erik and I to make up our minds.
Beast helps Johann (who's clearly injured, and having trouble moving) up the ladder, followed closely by Mystique.
"Your turn girls." Darwin informs them.
"But if we go who's gonna keep those things off you?" Aegis asks even as she winces as several of the humanoid robots hit her shield particularly hard in quick succession.
It's clear they're looking for a weak-point, or possibly just looking to wear her out. Depending on just how many of those things are in the facility it's quite possible that they could simply outlast her. I have to wonder though, where are the humans? There was Trask of course, but he cannot have been the only one in such a big facility… Yet none of the others mentioned coming across anyone. Even Beast and Darwin, who were the ones to find most of the labs (all but Trask's private one, apparently), taking as much as they could. I cannot help but find the whole thing very suspicious…
Eventually Darwin manages to convince the girls and they head up the ladder. Castle first, with Aegis holding up her shields until the younger girl is out the trapdoor. Then she has to let the shield fall as she focuses on climbing. Darwin as close to her as he can get, using his own body to cover her, confident that his own mutation will keep him safe. There are some impacts that look painful, and make me believe he'll end up pretty bruised, but none of the projectiles from the robots seem able to penetrate his armored skin, and that's relief.
"Now you." I tell Erik once it's just us.
I can tell, quite clearly, that he's planning to argue with me. When there's an explosion. One of the robots just blows up. And then another, and another. I wonder if there might be someone controlling them, trying to use the explosions to kill us; or maybe some sort of self-destruct has been activated.
Erik says nothing but I can feel the moment when what used to be the trapdoor goes around us, like some sort of harness, and then we're flying up. The explosions close enough that I can feet the heat lapping at our feet. The moment we clear the trapdoor my love proceeds to move us to a side, just in time for a bright column of fire to burst out of the hole in the ground.
"Professor!/Charles!/Erik!" I can hear several voices calling to us.
"We need to get out of here." My beloved snaps as he jumps onto his feet, never letting go of me as he pulls on my arm to get me on my feet as well. "Now."
We start running in the direction of the jet. We round the hut, believing it to be faster. Have just finished rounding the small building when there's a shriek:
"Riptide!" I'm not even sure who it is that calls out.
"Get down!" That voice I recognize as my sister's.
It's followed by Angel's pained cry. And suddenly it's made clear just where the humans we expected to find in that base, are. I wonder if there's some other living area nearby, if maybe our arrival, or extended presence, or even the robots, alerted them of our presence and made them come. Or if maybe they were in fact down there and had some other way to the surface, where they chose to lay in wait, to prepare an ambush. Riptide is dead, his body left carelessly beside the jet. Which is showing clear signs of someone (or more than one someone) having tried, and failed to force their way inside.
It's terrible. It's… it's not that I haven't been on a mission with the X-Men since Cuba (I have, though very rarely, as Emma is more suited and more interested in such things, and usually her brand of telepathy is enough), but it'd be impossible not to notice how different our current situation is from Cuba. In many ways. It's not that back then I wasn't worried about my students, or that I worried about my current ones more than I did my first class. Not at all. It's that back in Cuba the stakes were such that I just couldn't allow my worry to be my main focus, we each had our parts to play. I might have been very worried about each and everyone of them, but I had my own mission, couldn't allow anything to distract me from that. Also, I believe I was far more idealistic then than I am now. Even with the abrupt discovery that Moira had been keeping secrets from us all, right as our battle against Shaw's (then) minions. There was a part of me that saw everything like a great adventure: dangerous, fantastic, full of excitement, the kind of thing where the good guys always win; because how could it ever be otherwise? Even the revelation of at least some of Moira's secrets, of how differently things had gone in her own past, in the other timeline, didn't change that. Because as bad as things might have been in that time, it wasn't our time; it almost seemed like all the more reason to believe that all would go well in the end. Because we, or at least Moira, knew what went wrong once, and she was working to make things better. So, how could they be anything else?
Now… now it's different somehow. Because there's a war going on, I've already lost one of my children, another is off fighting a war he never chose to be a part of; my sister has already lost her lover, the father of her child; my own husband was captured, experimented on, and I could have so easily lost him. Yet another of my comrades is lying on the ground, but a few yards from me, his body still warm. And it's all chaos and destruction…
The worst part is that I'm not at 100%, when I unleashed the full power of my mutation on Trask. I broke through blocks I put in place so very long ago. In that moment I didn't care, I was too angry, too focused on making Trask pay, to care. But now I do, I care, not about our enemies, but about my beloved, my sister, our friends, our children… I cannot be so cavalier with my powers when I could end up hurting them by accident. Also, the pounding migraine is not helping things any! The loud shots, explosions, shouts, the metal grinding, the flashes; it all keeps making it even worse. It's bad enough that it takes all of my focus to not curl up and whimper.
At some point I cannot help but stumble, just a bit. We're finally making our way to the jet. Darwin carrying Angel inside, who looks unconscious, one of her arms bloody and hanging away from her body at an awful-looking angle. Aegis and Castle are standing by the jet's entrance, using their powers to cover us all as much as possible, though I can see they're beyond exhausted already. Mystique, Johann and Emma rush inside, one of the shots hitting the latter either at the wrong moment or in the worst possible way, her diamond form flickers and suddenly she's falling. The other two don't even stop as they half-carry, half drag the blonde into the jet with them. Inside I think I can hear Beast yelling at everyone to strap themselves in even as he begins working on getting the jet into the air. Moira rushes past me and onto the jet, yelling at Darwin to put Angel down so she can look at her injury.
Somehow my slight stumble means that I turn my attention in just the right direction to notice when a soldier aims a gun at my husband's back. The gun is different from the ones the others are carrying, white instead of black. I don't understand why… until the man lines a shot, and I realize my beloved isn't reacting to it at all, not the way he has to everyone else shooting at him, or me, or really anywhere close to our vicinity. He cannot sense the gun! Which means it's not metal, probably plastic, or ceramics… and that's not what matters. What matters is that someone's intending to shoot my husband and he cannot shield himself!
I'm moving before I'm entirely aware of it. A single thought in my head: Erik, my beloved, I have to keep him safe…
The shot comes. Somehow sounding even more deafening than any of the previous ones, at least to my own ears. I find myself slamming against my husband's back, hard enough to make him stumble somewhat.
"Charles…?" He calls, clearly confused.
I open my mouth, intending to tell him I'm alright, yet nothing comes out. Even my mind is blank. I'm not in pain, not exactly, which a corner of my mind whispers might be even worse. Something's wrong, I don't… I don't think I can stand anymore. It's like I cannot control myself anymore. And I don't know if it's the bullet, or my powers, or something else entirely. I have no idea what's going on and can only pray that what I've done is enough. Erik has to be safe. He has to… He Has To…
"CHARLES!"
xXx
I wonder, are some things just meant to be? Is it possible that some things just are fixed points in… life, history, the world, whatever. That some things are just meant to be, and no matter what we do, how hard we try, whatever we change, they'll still happen? Can history truly be changed, or are we all damned to repeat it, time and time again?
"No. No I refuse to believe that."
It takes me a few seconds to realize who it is that's talking. Erik… my love… Have I been talking out-loud? I don't remember.
"No, you haven't, then again, you don't need to." He crouches in front of the bed where I'm sitting up, or as much as I can. "We're connected, remember?"
I remember. I cannot help it when an image crosses my mind, fast, yet bright enough for Erik to pick up on it; it's an old memory, though not one of mine.
"What the hell was that?!" He demands.
It's a fragment of one of Moira's memories, of the old memories, from the timeline that no longer is. It shows us on the beach, in Cuba, I'm on the sand, behind Erik, who's deflecting bullets Moira's shooting at him. Then I go to get up… only for one of the deflected bullets to hit me straight in the back. I go down.
"Charles, you have to know… I'd never…"
*I know you wouldn't.* I do my best to reassure him mentally.
I know he wouldn't, yet that doesn't change our reality… the fact that once again I ended with a bullet to my back, crippled. I can no longer walk, sensation below my pelvic region is limited, and from mid-thigh to my feet there's nothing at all. I… I'm still a bit in shock at it all.
"Do you…" He trails off before being able to finish the question, but he doesn't need to.
'Do you regret it?' That's the question he's too afraid to ask, to afraid to hear the answer to. What kind of poor excuse of a husband, of a man, am I that I've let the love of my life feel like he, his life, his well-being, is somehow less important than… well, pretty much anything?!
"Listen to me very carefully, my love." I force the words past my scratchy throat. "I love you. With every breath I take, and every beat of my heart. I love you with everything I have, and everything I am. You are everything for me. If you were to cease to exist I'd no longer know how to be myself, for you're such an important part of me. I'd be left broken, incomplete, without you. So don't for a single second believe that I will ever regret doing anything, sacrificing anything, for you."
Even if I were to be able to time-travel (ha!) back to the day of that fight in Cambodia, knowing what I know now, being fully aware of the consequences of my actions, I'd still throw myself in between Erik and that bullet. And I wouldn't regret it. I won't.
"Oh Liebe…" Erik holds onto me tightly, face pressed against my stomach. *What did I ever do to deserve you?*
*You love me…* I whisper straight into his mind, brushing a kiss over his hair. *Despite how hard I know it can be, that I know I can be, you still love me.*
*Always.* He swears to me.
For a few minutes we busy ourselves with menial tasks. Erik gets me a glass of water. And once I'm finally mentally prepared, he helps me get to the bathroom, where he insists on washing me carefully. First my hair, shampoo, and conditioner, and then it's a loofah and his preferred shower gel brushing carefully over every inch of my skin. Until I know the whole thing is about more than just being clean, washing off not just the battle and the days spent in the mansion's infirmary (I couldn't go to a hospital, not when the whole mission was top-secret; and what different would it have made? None at all. Moira is a perfectly good doctor, she specialized in trauma, and she had Hank, Roger and Raven to help her). It's about showing he cares, and trust, about a connection that's so intense, so intimate, without a need for sex (though I'm pleasantly surprised when I discover that my body can still… react to my husband, mostly the same as always).
*Oh Charles…* He chuckles huskily in the back of our bond. *Even if you couldn't, that wouldn't make me love you any less. I'm in love with you, Liebling, not your dick!*
*Still, it's good to know.* I still believe that.
Once the washing is done he strips and slips into the tub with me, carefully arranging my useless legs over his, sitting me on his lap, holding me tight yet tender. There's a mix of strength and fragility in his hold, like he's reminding himself of something…
*I'm here my love, I'm here…* I whisper quietly. *I'm not going anywhere.*
He says nothing, but that's okay, I don't need him to, the way he presses his feelings: his worry, and exhaustion, his gratefulness, and grief, and above all, so much love, to me through our bond, it says more than a thousand words ever could.
Eventually we make it out of the bathroom. He helps me dress in comfortable pajamas and then we're back on the bed. We get visitors shortly afterwards, Raven, Moira, and everyone else, wanting to make sure I'm alright, that I'm recovering. Most of them trying very hard not to think about my disability. Izzy surprises me though:
"You know being in a wheelchair's not the end of the world, right?" She asks me somewhat bluntly, enough that practically everyone else turns to look at her, more than a little shocked.
Even Erik seems more than a little taken aback by her words, but I stop him before he can send her away or something. I can tell that she's trying to say something, and it's important to her.
"Uncle Billy, he's my dad's best friend." She explains. "He's been on a wheelchair for as long as I can remember. That's never slowed him down any. He still goes wherever he wants, whenever he wants. Got his truck modified so he could still still drive it, his friends help him get in and out of the boat when they go fishing, but I'm sure if they didn't he'd have found a way by now." She looks straight into my eye, pulling up all sorts of memories about this Billy, pushing them at me so I can see she's saying the truth. "He's never let his disability stop him, it barely slows him down. He can do all that, being human. What can you do being mutant? And besides, it's not like you're alone. You have all of us, you have Erik. You're not alone Professor, you never will be."
By the end of her speech everyone's shock has cleared and most are actually smiling. Erik in particular, his thoughts are decidedly smug. He's in complete agreement with her.
"No, I'm not." I agree. "Thank you Izzy."
She smiles, nodding once before spinning around and leaving the room. The rest leave shortly afterwards, after making sure that yes, I'm quite alright, and no, I don't need anything. Raven promises to have dinner sent our way once it's ready, and then they're all finally gone.
"She's right, you know?" Erik points out. "I'm sure between Hank and I we can arrange something. We won't let something like you losing your legs stop you."
I know he means it and… I agree. I know it's not going to be easy. But then again, few things ever are. And I know I can handle it. This isn't a small thing, not at all, but neither is it the end of the world. I will recover, I will move on.
Dinner comes eventually, and then Erik insists on a chess game, right there on the bed. We cannot drink the way we usually do, as I'm still on pain-meds, until I'm fully healed (or as much as I can be expected to heal). I know there's something nagging at Erik, but I don't say anything, giving him the time he needs to deal with it all before finally asking the question:
"Trask…" He blurts out, then takes a deep breath before actually asking a question: "What did you do to him?"
"I…" It's not that I wasn't expecting such a question to come eventually, but I still need a moment to think about how to answer it. It's not that I'm thinking about being anything but entirely honest, but there are just some things about my powers I've never had to find the right words to explain, so I need a moment to do that. "There are some things that make a person… well, a person." I have no idea how to explain it right. "Beyond the things we might learn, our preferences, our choices. There's just… at the core of us, of our minds, there are certain things that make us, not just individuals, but a person, a living, thinking, human being… or mutant, as the case might be. That core can be… It can be incredibly fragile. When the right (or wrong) kind of pressure is applied, it can cause an untold amount of damage, a bit too much and it just… shatters. It's… not death exactly."
"It's worse." Erik realizes as he manages to understand (at least as much as a non-telepath can) the implications of what I'm telling him.
"Yes," I don't bother trying to pretend otherwise. "With that core destroyed. The person might still be breathing, their heart might still be beating but… they're just not there anymore."
"You knew already you could do something like this." It's not actually a question.
"I'd done it once before, somewhat, entirely by accident. My step-brother Cain, remember? I told you that he went after Raven? I had to protect her. I didn't actually know what I was doing. It was an accident. Which is probably why it wasn't completely irreversible. I wasn't actually intending to destroy him. Didn't fully realize what it was I was doing back then, actually. I did my best to put him back together right away. And even then… I'm not sure I got everything right." Not that I ever got the chance to find out. "Trask though… him was completely intentional."
"Charles…"
"I wanted him to hurt! For what he did to you! And to everyone else! What he wanted to do to every single one of us! He deserved what he got, Erik. He deserved that and so much worse!"
I think the hardest part for him is to realize that, in my place, he wouldn't have done anything less. Well, perhaps not exactly the same, because our mutations are entirely different, but he'd have certainly found an equivalent. It's… strange, and yet at the same time not at all. How now, finally, we're in agreement. We're seeing the world through the exact same lens.
"I never wanted this for you." He admits, so very quietly. "For you to lose your idealism…"
"Oh, I haven't lost it." I hurry to reassure him. "I do still believe that good people exist. I do still believe that coexistence is possible. Yet I've come to realize that not everyone will agree. That just like there will be those like Shaw, who will want mutant superiority, there will also be those like Trask, who will see us as specimens, as experiments; and those who will see us as tools, as weapons, like some militaries do. Before I might have only been willing to work from the shadows, not willing to push too hard, afraid I might end up making things worse. Might end up causing a war we cannot win. But I've come to realize that the war is already happening, and if I… if we continue to stand back, all we'll achieve is to watch more of our own die, pointlessly, until we loose ourselves, either to death, or worse."
"You're not about to start a war against the humans."
"No, I'm not. What I'm going to do is to stop playing by their rules."
"What do you mean?"
"I've heard some rumors. The war has long since become unsustainable. At least where our country is concerned. Apparently an effort to get the US military out of Vietnam has been going on for more than a year now. If the rumors are true, the efforts are finally paying off. The soldiers will be coming home in a year at most." I take a deep breath. "We're going to make sure that every single mutant that's currently in Vietnam makes it back safe, we'll offer them a home, a refuge. Then we'll go looking for more. We'll make sure that neither the government, nor any third parties get to any of our people. If we can do things peacefully, fine. But if we have to play dirty… I will not lose a single more of my children to humans if I can help it Erik. Never again."
"Never again." He agrees wholeheartedly.
xXx
Things end up happening even faster than I ever expected. By the end of the year talk of a treaty between the United States at Vietnam is more than just rumor. Our X-Men need to up the ante when it's made obvious that some individuals, namely Major Stryker, don't plan on letting any mutants go. Matilda, completely traumatized after the fight in Cambodia, refuses to suit up again, but she's willing enough to accompany me as we pick up whatever new mutants I happen to find through Cerebro. Izzy for her part announces that while she's not interested in remaining one of the X-Men long term, she'll stay with the team until things at Vietnam are finished.
"It feels… right." She does her best to explain once. "Like, I've already gotten involved, now I need to see it through."
I completely understand what she means. Truth is if it weren't for the fact that I'm still learning to live with my disability, to move in the wheelchair (which is probably the most sleek and advanced wheelchair in the world, considering Hank and Erik were involved in its creation) and, to be fair, if I weren't more useful stateside, both to find and gather new mutants, and to keep the Institute safe, I'd definitely want to be right there with my husband and sister and everyone else.
Moira herself has insisted on joining the group, her excuse is that with all the fighting going on (even though the US has been pushed far away enough from the battlefront they're not actively involved in the war anymore; there are those who refuse to just let the mutant soldiers go, and are more than willing to fight to 'keep' them) they can definitely use a doctor; and as she's quite capable of protecting herself, she's not a liability. That's true enough, and yet I know it's also the fact that she too wants to help protect our friends, our family…
By the end of January our numbers have gone up quite considerably, to the point where I'm in talks with a local crew to work on some extensions to the mansion, or perhaps some additional buildings (perhaps for those who've accepted our offer of sanctuary, yet have no interest in being either students or teachers at the Institute; or who've kept themselves away from most people for so long they might not yet be ready to be among so many youngsters).
On a rare free day, I'm wheeling myself towards my office when a voice calls out:
"Charles!" It's Jenny. "There's someone on the phone for you!"
I'm reaching for the phone the moment I cross the doorway into my office, and Jenny smiles and waves a goodbye, slipping out the moment she hands it to me. Which tells me that she either suspects or outright knows this is the kind of call I'll want to take privately. I realize which one it is the moment I press the receiver against my ear and, after calling my own hello, hear the voice on the other side speak, a voice I recognize instantly…
"Professor…? I'm coming home…"
I'm still not a philosopher, to wonder at the immutability of time, at whether some things might be set in stone, or written in sand. If maybe time is, at least to a point, immutable, things just meant to be, people unable to change, or be changed… though deep down I don't think so, not really. If it were so, things like adaptability, like evolution, like mutants… none of it, none of us, would exist. So I suppose, in the end, I don't really believe that the future, that anything at all, is truly set. If Fate exists it's but a pathway, a suggestion; in the end, the choice is still our own… Always.
So... what do you think?
It's been so long, I cannot help but pray it was, at least to a degree, worth the wait. Could this have been a multi-chaptered, full-length fic, certainly. I just didn't have the inspiration to flesh it out the way it deserved. This was the best I could do that I thought would work the right way. I know this is nothing like the things I once planned, that I talked about with a few people in reviews, and comments and PMs. Like I said, a lot of things happened, changed, as years passed, and new movies came out. Also, I'll admit that as much as I love X-Men, and Cherik, I don't have the inspiration to stay in this fandom long enough to write a full epic-length fic series anymore.
This isn't actually meant to be an apology. Like, I do regret disappointing those that might have still been waiting on the fic that we once envisioned. But I don't regret what I ended creating. I like what came out, not just this fic, but the sequel, the final part of the series which I'll be posting out over the next couple of weeks (it's a two part), which I hope you'll enjoy. And I promise it will definitely get posted, no going missing again. Matter of fact, it's already written, just needs some cleaning up and editing.
So, I hope you enjoyed, and will come back for the finale. Please don't forget to review/comment, and perhaps like/kudo/fav. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't. Perhaps you'd like to guess what's coming? In fact, I'm offering right now, if someone guesses something big from the next part (like, one of the main points of the story), I'll give them an X-Men fanart of their choosing (just manips and such please, I cannot draw to save my life!), any character and/or pairing as long as it doesn't break Cherik. So, anyone would like to try?
See you on the finale!