Hey. So, here we go with another chappy. Not much action here, but next chappy will have more of it ^^" Thankies again for all the reviews, it's so nice to read them. See you , probably next week, as always :)

Please not that I didn't translate the poem into English myself, I found the translation on a internet side ^^

Also; do you know the fanfic; Nine Eleven Ten by Subtilior ? You can find it on archiveofourown. org, it's on of the best Cherik fic's I've ever read!

Allen tut es weh im Herzen,
Die den bleichen Knaben sehn,
Dem die Leiden, dem die Schmerzen
Aufs Gesicht geschrieben stehn.

Mitleidvolle Lüfte fächeln
Kühlung seiner heißen Stirn;
Labung möcht ins Herz ihm lächeln
Manche sonst so spröde Dirn'.

Aus dem wilden Lärm der Städter
Flüchtet er sich nach dem Wald.
Lustig rauschen dort die Blätter,
Lust'ger Vogelsang erschallt.

Doch der Sang verstummet balde,
Traurig rauschet Baum und Blatt,
Wenn der Traurige dem Walde
Langsam sich genähert hat

...

All are with compassion smitten,
When they see a youth so pale,
With distress and sorrow written
Upon his face, like a tale.

Compassionate breezes are blowing
Coolness for his burning brow;
Smiling comfort would be showing
Once unyielding maiden now.

From the towns maddening bustle,
He flies hastily to the woods;
There the leaves merrily rustle
And the birds sing their joyous moods.

But soon the singing disappears,
Sadly rustle leaf and tree,
When the mournful one slowly nears,
Entering the woods mournfully.

(Heinrich Heine, Der Traurige)

Chapter 5

A month passed, and still nothing was close to normal.

In fact, everything was as far away from normal as it had ever been. Not only the world outside the mansion, but also inside it...

It was not the world outside that scared Erik; Erik Lehnsherr was not afraid of the humans, he knew how to handle them. They wanted to start a war? He would give them war.

It was everywhere on TV now, the whole mutant registration thing and how to handle the 'new enemy'. Erik knew that they were planning something close to the holocaust, something like the exterminate the mutants; it all starts with words of hate and registration, it always does.. Erik had gone through that kind of living before, and now he had the chance to stop them, to act quicker than they would expect him to act.

The mutants needed a leader, like the humans had one; Stryker slowly pushed himself upwards to the position that allowed him to act on his own free will. The president was awfully quiet about that topic, as if he approved Strykers doing. And it was not only Stryker; also Graydon Creed was a problem, and then there was Kavita Rao, the indian women who believed that mutants could be healed..

It was a sick world, a sick world full of sick people, and Erik was used to such a world.

Yes, Erik Lehnsherr was USED to a sick world, USED to the cruel mind of the human being. He, of all people, should be afraid of the humans, should be afraid of their plans because he knew where they would lead; he had seen the pure horror with his own eyes, he had seen hell, but...he was not afraid.

There was a numbness inside him,a hole in his heart, a hole that was eating all the hate, anger, despair and sorrow. He felt cold, as if he was about to numb further and further, and it was all their fault; all the fault of the humans.

They had done this.

They were doing it.

They would always do it.

They would always be to blame.

Erik was accepting it, the fakt that he was becoming colder and colder, because he knew he needed to be cool and rationally; only a mind without emotion could lead a war, could save its kind, because emotions were always getting in the way, making everything worse.

Emotion were unnecessary in an age of pain and sorrow. Emotions are causing trouble, and the last thing Erik was needing was trouble.

Though, there was one thing that was keeping him from going completly numb; it was Charles. He could not be emotionless around the other man,could not hide his sadness, his love, his hopes, his worry about him..

Charles had not been used to a sick world. Charles had not been used to that kind of pain. Charles had been dewy-eyed, like a child, his view on the world too bright and optimistically.

Charles was not himself anymore.

Charles was someone else now.

They had broken him, and he would break them for breaking him.

Charles had believed in the good, had been able to see the good side of Erik, always seeing the good side of everyone.

He had been too good for his own wellbeing.

Charles had been sure that everything would turn out alright.

He HAD been,had, had been.. Now, however, not anymore. He was a shell, he was broken, he was somewhere else.

Erik could see it, every day, every day when he looked into those empty eyes, which were clouded and glazed because of the damn drugs, medicine, that they had to give him.

Had to, or did want to?

The world was evil, Charles mind broken and fragile, they had to keep him save, maybe, but Erik was not sure if it was wrong or right. Were they doing him good, or bad? Were they making it better, or worse? Were they saving him, or pulling him further apart?

He was slipping.. His whole being, his mind, his soul, he was flying away. His mind was somewhere else, always, in his own world, in his mind, where everything was better than in the real world.

Though, they were still haunting him, the memories of the men. Erik could hear him weeping, sometimes, at night, but he never screamed. He never, ever, said a single word. Not mentally, not vocally. He was quiet, because they had made him speechless, tongue-tied, silent..

He was slipping, falling apart, flying away, the distanced look in his dull eyes was always telling it. And it broke Erik's heart, again, always and always when he saw into the pale face which was framed by tousled brown locks, with the dark circles under the dull eyes and the thin white lips which once had been a bright red.

Charles Francis Xavier was gone, somewhere else, and he had left behind someone who was just a ghost of himself.

What would Charles think, if he could see himself now? Surely he would call himself pathetic, weak, would be disappointed and shocked, maybe even angry about his own weakness. But, this Charles was not there to scold himself, not now, never again, because they had broken him into pieces that no one could fix again. Maybe,someday, they would be able to shape a man that was close to the man that the telepath had been once, but never ever he would be like he had been before.

And it pained Erik, pained him to know this, because he had loved this man, this Charles; the optimistic, the naive fool, the arrogant man with the British accent and the calm smooth voice, the bright eyes and the milky-white skin, the man with the laughter which was able to make others laugh as well, who had a use of words that no other had, the man that could tell stories with just placing two fingers at his temple, the man that had a heart of gold, who could play piano like a god and who could drink anyone under the table. This man was no more. And, even if Erik still did love Charles Francis Xavier, he knew that their relationship would never be the same; never as thick as it had been before, and not with as much passion as it could have been, how it had supposed to be.

Those humans, they had taken his Charles like they had taken his family, and all they had left was an empty body...

...It was May now, it was sunny, sunny and warm, and the weather was mocking him. The winter would have fit better, would have shown the darkness and coldness that he felt inside, but no, no, there was the spring, smiling down on him with brilliant sun rays.

"I like it cold, never liked the summer."
"Why? It is one of the most beautiful seasons!"
"..No. It's too hot. I like the autumn. The fallen leaves remind me of gold."
"Haha, they remind you of metal?... I like them all, all the seasons..."
"I know Charles, because you do like everything, don't you? No matter what it is, its always 'groovy'."
"I guess you're right, my groovy shark-friend."
"I hate you."
"Hahaha,I know..."

The memory echoed inside his head, in front if his inner eye, making him smile. It had been winter, after christmas, and Charles had been terrible cold because the heating in his room had been broken, and so he had searched for comfort in Erik's bed. Now, however, Charles would never do something like that again..

Erik walked up the stairs. It was surprisingly cold and dark in the mansion,even the sunlight through the window seemed dim, or maybe it was just Erik's imagination; he could not help it, but the spots of light on the dark wooden floor were everything else than bright and warm.

"We used to live here for a couple of years, but Raven and I went to Oxford after..things went bad. I guess I am still not used to the darkness of the hallways. Maybe we should buy new lights, because I can't stand the darkness here, it always makes me think that something is lurking in the shadows."

And now that Erik was walking down the long hallway, he knew what Charles had meant that day. The corridors were dark, even if the windows were big, and the shadows seemed sinister, as if they were alive. His mind was playing tricks, but that was okay, because who else could play tricks with his mind now, if not he himself?

The metal-tray in the air in front of him swayed slightly, almost spilling the tea over the toast. He had to be careful, the control of his powers had been bad in the last few weeks, and he was sure it was because they were still too tightly bound to his emotion. Between rage and serenity..It was so difficult to find this point now, because the serenity seemed to have gone lost somehow in the last few weeks. Serenity, hah..If there just was a little bit of peace and quiet to gather that serenity back together. The metal-manipulator pressed his lips together until they were a small line.

"Don't do that, Erik. It makes you look grim and old, just look at all the wrinkles on your forehead."

Erik cringed as the amused voice rang through his head, another memory that he had kept safe. He held them safe, his happy memories with Charles, carrying them like a treasure in his mind and heart, the light, separated from all the darkness of the current situation.

His footsteps rang too loud in the empty hallway. The kids were down in the living room, though he was sure that Raven would come upstairs soon. He had told her to take Charles downstairs, because Charles was far too much in his room,alone. He needed someone who talked to him, even if he never talked back, never responding. Though, he was comfortable with Raven's presence; he seemed a bit more relaxed around her, listening to her words with care, being almost interested, and sometimes, sometimes there was a spark in his eyes, and then they gleamed in a bright brilliant blue, and then Erik could almost see a tiny smile.

He also seemed okay with being around Sean, and he seemed to have become accustomed to Hanks presence as well. He never liked the medical inspection, and at the beginning he had struggled a lot, breaking Erik's nose and shattering Hank's glasses as he had tried to flee out of the lab.

Now, however, he just endured it all in silence, sometimes flinching or making small gasps if something did hurt. The bruises had faded, the scratches and scrapes beginning to become scars, and the concussion had vanished, though sudden movements made Charles pale and dizzy. The hand was still in a bad shape, as well as the shin. Charles was not allowed to use his hand, not for now, and he had to use the wheelchair to move around in the mansion, if he moved at all..

Hank had begun to install a elevator, which would make everything a bit easier for Charles. Erik had no clue how long the telepath had to use the wheelchair, but he intensely hoped that Charles could use the crutches soon. That would bring him onto other thoughts, would give him something to do. Maybe that would lift his spirit.

That was another point; Charles mental state. Hank had no clue why Charles would refuse to speak, but it seemed that his mental state was not recovering as well as they had hoped. Maybe he had stopped speaking because it was the only thing that he could control; his voice. He could choose if to speak or not, he could stay silent or talk mentally with them, he could use his powers or refuse to use them. The only thing he had control over...Maybe that was why he was silent, but maybe it was just because there was nothing left to say. It was the fault of those men, Erik was sure.

It is difficult, Hank had said, I think especially because he is a telepath.

Yes, Charles was a telepath, and able to use telekinesis as well, but the man had not used his powers since that night, at least not while he was with the others. Maybe he used them for himself, when he was on a journy with his mind, but never did he touch another mind. The human mind must have scared him off..

Erik did not know how to help Charles but he wished he would know it, because he really wanted to help Charles, wanted to get him better..

"It is just a headache Erik. Don't worry, I'll be fine in the afternoon. So, don't make a face and hand me the tea, will you? Thanks."

It had always been just a headache...

Charles was blocking them, refusing to allow any help, and he would fight them if they would try to take a look inside his head with the help of any machine that Hank had built. He had become withdrawn, vulnerable, fragile... Contact with others made him scared, stressed, and then his breathing would become heavy and shallow because of his injured weak lung.

He had been a strong man once, once he had been the strongest telepath on the earth, once, one month ago..

Now he seemed to be uncomfortable under people, or he just ignored them, being somewhere in his own head, in his own mind, far far away...

The drugs had to be blamed too, because they made him dull and tired, and dizzy, fucking up his mind and leaving him in a mess. But, they calmed him, they made him calm and good, fogging his mind. It was almost manipulation, but they could not allow him to have more breakdowns. That would not be good for him, neither for his mental- and nor for his physical wellbeing. And also not for themself; Charles mental shields were damaged, maybe broken, and maybe that was why he did not use his powers?, and it would cause them all a lot of pain if he lost the control over his powers just because he had a breakdown.

This was not Erik's opinion, but it was logical.

Later, when Charles would be a little bit better and the human thing settle, then they could stop giving him those damn medication. Erik felt as if he was betraying him, betraying Charles, but it was for their all wellbeing. At least that was what Erik tried to tell himself.

It was not easy to deal with Charles, not with him being in this mental position, and it would need a lot of care, patience and tact to somewhat heal and fix what had been broken.

It was hard to get near him, to get close to him. Especially for Erik.

Charles would flinch if Erik entered a room, he would back away if Erik tried to touch him, and he would shiver badly if Erik touch him just slightly. Every fibre of his being would be screaming at Erik then, telling him to leave, telling him to go away, panic and fear in every movement.

It had to be his appearance; his voice was low, he was tall, and, above all, he was a man. Charles was not afraid of Raven, because she was his sister, and he was okay with the blue leonine boy, as well with the red-haired teen who had softer features than Alex. Alex and Erik were avoided by Charles, and he would not look them in the eyes.

"I do love you, Erik Lehnsherr, and I don't care what others might think!" Erik's heart had fluttered as he heard those words, and he had been sure that he was the luckiest man on earth. Now, however, those words made him sad, his heart aching in bitter realization; Charles would likely never say those words again. Maybe,some day, he would speak again, and maybe, someday, he would be able to let Erik near himself again.

It will be getting better, Hank had said, don't worry. Some day it will get better...

Erik really really hoped it would get better, because his heart was bleeding, with every day. It was his love that he saw falling apart...

Erik tried to hope, but the darkness of his thoughts and the dark reality tought him better; there was no place for hope. He had to do something, not just simply hoping that everything would get better, no, he had to DO something to make it getting better. For the mutants, for them, and above all, for Charles.

Because, Charles deserved to heal. At least that he deserved..

Erik stopped in front of the door; he stood there for several minutes, just staring at the door, as he remembered that he tea would get cold. The metal-bender opened the door with a flick of his wrist, the tray floating in front of him through the air.

Charles was sitting in the wheelchair, his gaze directed outside the window, his chin propped on the back of his left hand, the arms placed on the windowsill. The sunlight against his skin made him even paler.

"Hello Charles." Erik greeted him calmly, walking up to Charles while the door closed itself. Charles did not react, but Erik had not expected anything else; it was always the same, day for day for day. It was frustrating. It didn't made him angry, just really sad. And tired. "Here is your breakfast, I hope you will eat it today."

Sometimes he did that as well, refusing to eat. Yesterday he hadn't ate anything, and had been really ill-looking. Today it seemed a bit better. Yes, there were the worse days, and the bad days. Never the really good days, though.

Erik placed the tray on the desk; papers and pencils lay there, the same way they had been lying one month ago. His gaze wandered over the unwritten paper, then back to Charles, who still looked out of the window. He wasn't looking at anything, Erik realized; he was inside his own world again.

What had destroyed him the most?

The fact that humans were evil? The fact that they did hate mutants? The fact that he had been raped? The fact that his whole dream had been just that; a dream?

Erik did not know, and he would probably never know what had destroyed Charles Xavier, not in a particular way, but he knew what had caused all this to happen; humans. Those damn humans!

Charles flinched, and Erik realised that the metal in the room had been humming. Charles must have sensed his anger, because the body of the telepath tensed, his unfocused eyes directed downwards at the windowsill.

"I am sorry, Charles. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just..somewhere else with my mind." Erik apologized quietly. His voice was smooth,always smooth and warm, as if to soothe Charles. As if Charles was a scared kid, a spooked horse...

A reproachful meow could be heard, and Erik arched and eyebrow as he saw the black bundle of fur on Charles lap. Two greenish eyes looked at him. Erik smiled as he saw the cat "So, here she is. Raven has been wondering where she might could be."

The cat, Erik could not remember its name, had been found by Sean, somewhere back in november, as the days were growing colder.

First Charles hadn't been all too eager to keep the cat in the mansion, but the kids had been able to coax him. Now it was the best friend of Charles, always at his side, a black and white bundle of fur with amazingly green eyes.

The cat had never liked Erik, and in return, Erik never liked it much. He always had the feeling it looked at him with dislike in its green eyes, as if it knew something that Erik didn't.. Of course, that was ridiculous; it was just a cat, what would it know about Erik?

"Look Erik, I think she likes you."
"Oh, no, it doesn't. Look at its evil eyes, I think it's going to kill me once I am asleep."
"Oh, c'mon. The worst thing that could happen is that your face gets scratched."
"See. I like my face, so the cat stays out of this room." In the end, Erik had always woken up with the cat sleeping on Charles' legs.

Cat began to purr as Charles absently scratched it behind its ear. All the while, it was watching Erik with knowing eyes. "Charles, dear, Raven will come soon, then you can go outside with her for a while..."

Charles eyes, which had been on the cat, looked up to Erik; they were still clouded, half-lidded, but Raven's name had brought him back.

Erik sighed as he crouched down in front of the wheelchair. Charles flinched as he laid his hands on the knees of the telepath, but he would not fight him. Charles' body was stiff as he looked at the hands on his knees. The cat hissed, its paw brushed over Erik's hand, a warning sign, but Erik ignored it. "I am going out today. I don't know when I will be back."

Charles was silent, his left hand patting the cat in his lap, while the right hand lay unmoving on the arm of his wheelchair. It was still bandaged. Erik noticed the M above Charles' eyes, from the angle he sat it was very well to be seen, and his stomach turned up side down. It always did when he saw it. It was reminding him of other things...

He stood up, a small smile on his lips. He always smiled for Charles, and only for Charles. "I hope you have a nice day today. " He would like to talk with him, having a real conversation with him; he would love to hear his voice again. The situations between them were awkward now, Erik never knew what to say. There was a hidden tension, the connection between their minds was missing.

Erik would like to touch his hand, squeezing it slightly, but he was not sure how Charles would react. And the cat was watching him with wary eyes..

So he nodded towards Charles, who had his eyes on the cat in his lap, and left the room.

Erik walked down the hallway as he met Raven; the blue girl was on her way to Charles, probably to ensure that he ate his breakfast. She smiled at him, but he did not smile back, he just gave her a nod. "Take him outdoors today. The weather is good, and the sunlight will do him good."

The small smile of the girl faded, her eyes became stern and she nodded. "I had intended to do that anyway."

She was a strong girl, stronger than someone would might believe. She stayed calm, all the month she had looked after Charles, had watched over him with a care that only a sister could give a brother. Erik knew that she was as sad and desperate as he himself was, but she wouldn't show it, just like him. No one did show what was going on inside them.

"Make sure that he doesn't watch TV today. I don't think he should see it."

"So, you are going to do it..." she mumbled, her yellow eyes eyeing him carefully. Erik nodded, and she sighed "I don't know if that is a good idea Erik."

Erik's lips became a thin line as he answered with a steady voice "You don't have to be sure about it."

The girl furrowed her brow, and he was sure she had a word of protest on her lips, but she swallowed it down. Good girl, he wouldn't want to start a discussion about his plans. He had thought about this, he had planned this, he would do it.

"He never does watch TV." she then said, her voice sounding absent as her gaze wandered out of the big window to their side. "I know." Erik answered calmly. They wouldn't let him watch the news. The topic about humans and mutants was everywhere now, always present. They couldn't let him see the madness of the humans, not now. Maybe he would help them, when he felt better. Maybe he would be at Erik's side to rule the world one day. Maybe Erik was just megalomaniac. Though, he would do it, he would lead the mutants against the humans, he would DO something. Yes, some would call it megalomania, he called it future.

They stayed there for a moment, their gaze directed outside the window. A small bird was sitting in the tree in front of the window, chirping.

He began to continue his walk down the hallway, and Raven turned around to watch him going. "Please be careful, Erik."

He chuckled dryly as he continued to walk down the corridor. "Oh, don't worry, Mystique. They are humans, they are not able to harm me with their toy guns."

She knew he was right, and that was why she stayed quiet. He could hear her walking down the hallway, a door was opened and a cheerfull voice filled the air. "Hello Charlie. How're you doing? You look better today, have you slept well?"

She was a good actor.

Erik opened the door to his room and closed it quietly. He stood there, taking in the scent of fresh bed linen and old wood. The window was open, and the smell of spring was notable; the smell of flowers and fresh air.

It could have been a nice day, under other circumstances.

He walked over to the bed; his outift was placed on the bed, his magenta cotton jacket, the dark trousers and the dark purple cape, and for a moment he asked himself if this was ridiculous, insane.

"Everyone is a bit insane. You, me, the rest of the world. Without insanity, a lot of things wouldn't have happened."
"I wouldn't call it insanity then, I would call it courage."
"Courage?...Hm..I think courage is what is needed to be a little bit insane."
"But, how can I tell that I am just a bit insane? How do I know that I am not completly mad?"
"...You will never know that, Erik. No one does. Who can tell what insanity is? Maybe we both are already insane without knowing it?"

Yes, maybe he was already insane..

Erik began to change his outfit, almost taking too much time with putting on his new clothes. Then he was ready, fully clothed in his new outfit, and he knew that there would be no going back if he would do what he was about to do.

He knew that he was probably about to start a war.

He looked down on the cotten sleeves of his magenta jacket.

Why magenta?

"Here, this is for you."
"...A...flower?"
"Yes?"
"..Why would you give me a flower?"
"Oh, just because. It's from the yard. I thought I'll bring you one, so you're feeling better."
"...I don't like the color..."
"It's magenta."
"I still don't like it."
"Are you feeling better at least?.."
"...Yes. Yes I think I do." He had been ill, shortly after they had arrived the mansion; it had probably been the cold weather in Russia which had brought him a cold. Erik had been doomed to stay in bed. He could still remember that silly smile that Charles had worn as he had handed him the flower.

Maybe that was why.

Erik's gaze turned to the nightstand, and he mentally sighed. With slow steps he walked to the small table, his hands touching the cool metal of the helmet. It would not be necessary to wear it, it was for no use at the moment, but better safe than sorry. The helmet was colored magenta now, magenta and purple.

He felt like a boy who was playing superhero, or maybe he wasn't even the hero, maybe he was the villian; for the humans he was, but not for the mutants.

He was going to save them, his kind.

Erik placed the helmet upon his head, and as he raised his head and turned around he was met by the cold and stern gaze of the man that called himself Erik Lehnsherr.

Once he had been Max Eisenhard.

Then he became Erik Lehnsherr.

Once he had been Erik Lehnsherr.

Now he was Magneto.

Erik eyed his mirror image, asking himself if he was doing the right thing, then he walked to the door and opened it with a flick of his wrist;

Yes, they should face their new enemy.

The world should know of Magneto.