Here is another chappy for you. Aww, well, I thank you all for the favs, I am so blown away man xD And of course I thank you all for the reviews :)

The lines at the beginning are taken from a German children's song, named Ein Männlein steht im Walde. You can find the translation below, as well as some notes.

See you next week, probably :)

"Ein Männlein steht im Walde ganz still und stumm.

Es hat von lauter Purpur ein Mäntlein um.

Sagt, wer mag das Männlein sein,

das da steht im Wald allein,

mit dem purpurroten Mäntelein?"

Chapter 6

His footsteps echoed through the room as he walked towards the long platform. He could hear the heavy breaths of the men on the ground, could almost taste their fear as he walked past them. No one dared to move. It was dark here, only the podium was lit up by the spotlight above.

You are right to fear me, his mind snarled at them. Be lucky that I've decided not to kill you, even if you deserve it.

This was a TV-station, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It would take the humans some time to send their men here, and Magneto would have enough time; enough time to talk.

Magneto walked up the small stairs, his steel-boots clanking with every step that he took on the podium. A shame that I had no lectern, it would give me a more powerfull appearance. He walked along the long desk, slowly, as if he had all time of the world, then he sat down on one of those comfortable-looking chairs behind the blue desk. Taking a deep breath through his nose he leaned his elbows on the table, his hands neatly folded underneath his chin as his gaze turned to the small lense of the camera, which stood in front him in the darkness.

They were live on TV, he knew that several people had to watch him, being confused, not understanding what was going on. The background looked ridiculous; silhouettes of skyscrapers against a dark red sky. He silently asked himself how he had to look like; a disguised madman clad in magenta and purple who just came from the next best superhero costume Party? Maybe something like that. The background didn't help much; in fact he felt like a clown in a kids-show. At the moment he did not care about that little problem.

He knew that he looked grim, dangerous, his eyes nearly hidden in the shadows of his helmets, gleaming like two silver coins in the garish light of the spotlights. Maybe he should have left the cape at the mansion, it soon would be really hot under the lights...

"You've once told me that you know everything about me. But, in return I know nothing about you..."

He closed his eyes briefly , taking another deep breath through his nose, then he opened his eyes again. The look in his eyes was stern, deadly serious, and cold like metal. He could dimly see the reflection of himself in the lense of the camera, but the thing was too far away to see his reflection well.

"You want to know something about me? Haha, but you do know a lot already."

He licked over his lips, like Charles had always used to do when he was nervous, then they turned up into a smile; a cold smile that looked more mechanically than real. It was a forced smile, nothing more, nothing less. Though, he really did not care; he was not here to entertain those people at the other end of the screen, he was not here to look friendly or anything like that. He was here because it was his duty, because he had to be here. Someone had to do what he did now. Someone had to make the first step.

"I just think it would be fair."

"A nicely welcome to all of you out there." He began, his voice dripping with scorn. "I hope you all are well placed in front of your lovely television and I hope, you have some time to listen to what I have to say, because what I will say is important for all of you-" he paused for mere seconds, then he added with a low voice "Important for mutants, and humans."

"Hahaha, okay, okay, I guess you are right."

He leaned forward, his smile had faded all the while ago; he was serious now, more than serious. "I think I should introduce myself; my name is Magneto, and I am a mutant." Faint applause was heard in the back of his head, almost mockingly as if to say;
yes, you are a mutant, mutant and proud, right? That's what you want to show them, it's all about being too proud..

"My name is Charles Francis Xavier, and I am a telepath."

Magneto hissed slightly as the voice rang through his head; he was somewhere else with his mind again, always. It was always Charles who had distracted him, always Charles who had stopped him from doing something incredible stupid, always Charles who had kept him from leaving...

Well, Charles was not here now, wasn't he?

The metal-bender continued with his calm voice, "I think you all know about mutants. This topic isn't quite avoidable, isn't it? All your human politicans talk about us as if we were...scum, the children of the devil..." his eyes narrowed "That was what you have said Mr. Stryker, wasn't it?" He sighed dramatically and leaned back, his eyes never leaving the black lense. "You all talk nonsense about us. It's not really polite, I have to say. WE"- he used a heavy emphasis on this word, "- tried to be polite. Oh, yes, we did. But-" he sighed again, a gesture to show them how disappointed he was of those stupid little humans who were acting like children in a fight about candy. Though, this time it was not about candy, this time it was about the lifes of millions of people, mutants...

"I was born in New York City. My family moved from England to Westchester, where I grew up till I was eighteen."

"I know a man who has tried to lead our races together in a peacefull manner. But-" he raised the index-finger of his leather-clad left hand "- you did not listen to him. In fact, you laughed at him. In fact-" he leaned forward again, his eyes gleaming with hate and fury that he tried to supress. Calm, I needed to be calm for this...
"In fact you've nearly killed him. Oh yes-" he snorted "- you were trying to kill the man that could have brought us all peace. YOU-" he said with raised voice, his hands comming down on the table with a loud thud. "You are the reason for all this! Maybe we could have settled things quietly and in a polite kind of way, but I am not sorry to tell you that you've missed the chance, because that only shows your true intention; eradication!"

"My birthday is the thirteenth of October, and I am almost twenty-eight years old."

He took in a deep breath; he felt angry, but his voice was more steady than he had expected it to be. "I know where this will lead, where this could lead, but I will prevent it. I, Magneto, speak to you mutants, my brothers and sisters; you shall not hide. It's their time to be afraid of us, we have no reason to fear someone as primitive as the human being." He straightened, his hands pressed against the plastic table. It was warm in here, his hair under the helmet stuck to his head . "Brothers and sisters, be proud of what you are! Be proud of who you are! You are special, you are the new kind of evolution and not any scum or the offspring of the devil."

"I've studied genetics and biophysics at the university of Oxford. I've become a professor this year."

"It is our time to raise up! It's time to fight back against the injustice of those homosapiens!"

"I like tea, and cheddar, my favourite color is blue and I love to play chess."

Magneto balled his hands into fists, the shadows under his eyes dark. He could feel every metal object in this room, could feel the magnetic fields, could hear the soft humming of the metal above his head, could almost taste the fear of the men who lay on the dirty ground...He could feel their blood running through their veins...

"And there is one thing..."

"We won't be prisoners, we won't be slaves of the human race! We shall rise up to rule, WE will be the ones who have the control!" He stood up from his chair, his hands raised with the palms upwards, standing there like a god who was talking to his subjects. No, subjects was not quite the right word. Ally, maybe, or ...family...

"..that I desperately wish for.."

"And that is why I see no other option..."

"I wish for.."

"The only option left, is.."

"Peace."

"War."

War...He had enough of war. It pained him to think of all the people that would die, but it was necessary. Necessary to achive freedom, he thought bitterly.

He had seen so many people die, had seen so many dead bodies... And I could not have help them.

But this time he would help, this time he would DO something, this time he would make everything right.

If that meant he had to kill, then he would kill.

If it meant he had to start a war, he would start a war.

This time he would do everything to prevent an eradication, to prevent pain and sadness... Many mutants would probably die in a war against the humans, but it was for their freedom. It was for their kind. It is necessary.

How does it feel, to lead people into their death?

No, he would not lead them into death! He would lead them into a better future!

There would always be sacrifices, there would always be someone who had to sacrifice himself for the wellbeing of others. You always have to give something if you want something, and the price for freedom was always the death of someone. There was never a solution for a serious problem without hurting someone.

Magneto smiled, his face an emotionless mask as he placed his right hand above his heart. "I know that you might think that I am a madman. I can't blame you, but you will see that I am right." He raised his voice again; his voice which was as cool as his face but the hint of pure hate could be heard very well. He did hate does homosapiens, he really did hate them. And, a part of him was not afraid to start a war. A part of him wanted to start a war, to get rid of the human being, finally...But another part inside of him, a very small part, warned him, warned him of becomming like he had never want to become; like them.

No!, he snarled to himself, no, I will never be like them!

What differentiated him from them?

Was he any better than them?

Maybe not, he thought cooly, but do I have to be better than them?

Fight fire with fire...

"They have done it once before, my dear friends, they will do it again. They fear what they don't know. They fear us, they hate us, they want to tame and slaughter us. My dear brothers and sisters, we are not the animals; the homosapien is the animal. " Magneto's smile became kind. "We are the future."

Yes, THEY were the future, THEY were the new kind of evolution!

We will rule this world, to make it to a better place.. for US!

He took a deep breath, his smile fading, replaced by the serious face that he would become so used to. "Peace was never an option, I fear."

And, it was true, peace was just an illusion, something that had been created by people who could not face the truth; there would always be hate. There would always be war. There was nothing such as peace, there had never been anything close to peace. Was there acceptance? No, mutants were not accepted. Tolerated? Neither.

Feared, hated,despised... He had grown so used to it.

All his life, all the entire time...There had never been something like peace. There had never been something like acceptance. There was just hate. Sometimes he found himself asking why; why him? Why his people, why his kind, why his race, why his religion, why his family, why his blood, why? WHAT did they hate?

They just need an enemy, they always need an enemy...To show their strength. It made him laugh inwardly. This is so ridiculous.

THEY were ridiculous...

"I can't understand the hate of the human being..." He continued, slowly, almost thoughtfully. "I am no god, neither am I a man of god. Gott ist tot, don't you think, Mr. Stryker? You put everything under the will of god, but in fact these are all your own thoughts. All the doings are the doings of the human race, there is no apology for what they have done. There will be no apology for what they are about to do and neither will there be an apology for what I will do. I am not sorry for saying what every mutant must think. I am not sorry for fighting for my freedom - OUR freedom." He closed his eyes, the soft humming of the spotlight calmed him down. In fact, he was calm now.

Yes, he was calm again, because he had realized that he was doing the right thing.

"Brothers and sisters, women and men, fight for your freedom. Fight for our future. Fight for yourself. This is our time." He opened his eyes again. "This is our life, and no one can take it from our hands."

He reached out with his left hand, offering them his hand, a self-confident smile on his lips. "Fight with me, brothers and sisters, for a better future. For our future."

He would not do nothing, he would not watch the humans how they imprisoned his kind, he would not smell burned flesh and he would not hear the desperate screams of families that were torn apart.

He would prevent it.

This time he would prevent it.

"And, there is a man that I am in love with."

"My name is Magneto, and I will fight the humans."

"His name is Erik Lehnsherr."

"I will have no mercy."

"He is kind-hearted, but would never admit or show it."

"I won't regret a thing."

"And one day..."

"Because I am right."

"..he will show his true self to the world."

...

The colors around him were bright, brighter than they should be; he loved their brightness, it was so much warmer than the darkness outside. The sun was shining, it was warm, but he knew that it wasn't really warm here; he just felt no coldness.

He stood at the pond, looking down on the water which looked like liquid diamond. He had seen that somewhere before, half a year ago, but he could not quite remember where...

They were outside the mansion, near the pond. The surroundings looked like drawn with watercolors, the rays of sun like golden veils of light.

Like a dream.

A loud meow was heard, something snaked around his legs, purring. A smile crossed to his lips as he looked down to the black cat. The cat gave him a questioning gaze, its green eyes blinking once, twice, then it continued to rub its head against his leg.

He sighed, bending down to take the black furball into his arms. The cat purred happily, its eyes closed.

You are such a princess, aren't you? Sharon's reply was a warm purr and her pink tongue darted out to lick over his right hand. It made him smile. He had named the cat after his dear mother, though, he was not quite sure why..

Sharon hadn't been a bad woman... Just an awful mother, he added thoughtfully. Charles had never blamed her for anything; the society had made her cold and inapproachable. And Kurt had made it even worse.

He sighed as he raised his head to look back at the pond. He loved this place. It was always so peacefull..

"Charles, do you want to go back?" A voice rang through the air, bodyless so it seemed.

Charles turned around to his sister, her astral form a pulsing blue; she looked like a human shape made of blue glas, a mixture of yellow and light green smoke swirling inside her frame. If he would take a closer look he would see her thoughts, her memories inside the smoke, like a movie; it was her mind. This was not the real world, he was aware of that; this was a mental level, an astral plane. He could see her mind, and he could take a closer look inside, could fling himself through the glass into the smoke, but he would not; he was not here to take a look inside her mind.

She was not aware of her mental self, neither all the others. Other telepaths, maybe. And animals, at least cats.

Cats were able to live in all levels at the same time. This was the first mental level, the first area which looked a lot like the normal world 'outside'. It was not his mind, no, his mind was inside his head; this here was one of the layers of the mental plane, almost a whole new world you could say, a world built on the real world. He was not sure how many layers were there, he had never taken the step over the next border; it would be dangerous, he could lose himself. It would swallow him, such out his mental energy; it would kill him. That was why he stayed in the first plane, the layer which had the closest connection to the real world. Here he could hear what others said, hear he could see their minds, their mental selves..Somewhere in the next planes there had to be other minds, the minds of dead people, maybe. Charles could feel their presence like an ever present tingling inside his head, but he never reached for them; they would pull him further away, further than he already was.

"Charles?"

Oh, he should go back, otherwise Raven would be worried. He could see that she already was, because the smoke inside her astral form turned into a brighter shade of yellow.

But, he did not want to go back into the real world, it was so much nicer here..

He felt dazed, not only in the real world but also here; it was weird, but thinking was so much harder than it had been before...It was as if there was something over his thoughts, something like fog, something that made everything blurry...

He did not want to go back, then he would have to see their sad faces...

Why are they sad? There is nothing to be sad about..

"Charles, are you alright? Do you want to go back in? I think we go back in, alright? Maybe you can eat something, hm? Or, do you want a tea?"

Charles looked down; Sharon blinked, her green eyes staring up at him. I have to go back, right? He smiled sadly as he placed the cat back down onto the grassy ground, then he closed his eyes.

I don't want to drink tea.

A slight pull went through his astral form as he slowly crossed the white line which symbolized the transition of the planes, then he felt a soft tingling, and as he opened his eyes he was back in the wheelchair with Raven to his side. It was always a weird feeling to go back into his real body; his mental body felt light, the pain was just a dull ache in the back of his mind and he could walk. Now, however, his head did hurt, as well as his heart. Everything did hurt, but it was just a dull pain. Everything was dull, even the colors, as if it was far far away, as if it was a dream, as if a gray vail lay over the world, as if reality was a dream. It felt wrong, and he knew that it was wrong, but he could not help it; it was hard to think, it was hard to feel...He felt so numb.

Raven smiled as she noticed that he was back with her. She said nothing as she walked behind him to push his wheelchair.

It was warm today, sunny, and he could hear the birds in the trees. Normally it would have made him smile, but now he did not really feel like smiling. There was... a coldness inside and...somehow it did not seem to go away. The rays of sun touched his skin, but not his heart.

Raven talked to him; she always did talk him, and mostly it was something about their daily life. She never talked about serious things. Or about Erik.

Charles did not blame her. He just listened.

Her voice was a pleasant background mumbling, and it lulled him. She sat often at his side, in the evenings when he could not sleep, and would read him books, as if he was a small child. He did not care; he loved her voice, and her mere presence calmed him. Though, sleep never came easily, and it was never pleasant if sleep came...Never.

They would haunt him, he would see it all again, feel it again...

He knew that his sister was sad; he could feel it, the sadness, always wafting around her when she was with him. It was weird, to be the reason for her sadness without being able to change it. Well, maybe I would able to change it, but I have no clue how... And, at the moment, Charles had no strange to change anything. He felt tired, every day, and every day was the same.

Sometimes she was close to tears, but she was a strong girl, she never cried. It would have made him proud, if he would actually care. But, he did not care, not anymore. At the moment he felt so dizzy...It was so exhausting to think too much, to care...

He could not tell if it had been different once before, if he had been different, if he had cared for someone, loved someone...He was not sure if he did love now, but he knew that he liked Raven, a lot.

Everything was so blurry when he looked back at his past. He could remember his childhood, very well, but the last few month were a blur...Sometimes he did remember things, and sometimes he was aware of his current situations, and then he asked himself; what am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me? But he never had an answer to this questions, and then the fog took over again, and everything was blurry.

Maybe it was his own mind, maybe the medications, he did not know.

He did not care.

Because, maybe it was better how it was.

But, how could he tell, if he did not know how it could be? He just knew that there was a lot of pain, and there would be even more pain if his mind was clear.

And so he let his brain be fogged.

Am I a coward? Am I fragile, vulnerable, an idiot?

A part of Charles did hate himself.

The other part did not care.

Charles did not know why he was how he was now, though his mind told him that it had to be the trauma, maybe even a mini-psychosis. He had heard Hank talking about this topic as he and Erik both had thought he was not listening.

He always did listen, he just never gave a reply.

He had also hear them talking about the possibility of a post traumatic stress disorder and even a complex post traumatic stress disorder, but Charles had no clue what that meant.

-Changes in attention and consciousness

-Changes in self-perception

-Changes in relationships with others, including isolation, also distrust

-Changes in attitudes.

- A loss of sustaining faith or a sense of hopelessness and despair.

Those were just some things that Hank had mentioned.

His mind knew that there were similarities, but he closed his ear to his inner voice; he did not want to know if he was insane or not - if he was ill or not. But, how could he tell if he was insane, ill, or not? How could he tell that he had changed if he felt no difference? How could he tell if he was not himself anymore, if he could not even remember how he had been before? How could he tell that anything, if he could not take a clear thought?

How could it have come to this?

Charles shuddered as he remembered how exactly it had come to this, who did this to him, and he gripped the arm of his wheelchair with a tight grip. Just his left hand, because he could barely move his right hand. He was sure he could see them, could hear their laughter, could smell the blood and suddenly he felt panic, and not only that; he felt ashamed; he was ashamed that he did not stop them, that he had not been able to stop them.

He had been too weak, and he wished.. he wished he had been stronger. He wished he had stopped them. He could have stopped them, he was sure, but...He had wanted to give them a chance, and in the end...in the end it had brought him nothing but pain...Had he been too naive?

It was my own fault, wasn't it? All of this..

Erik had warned him, right? Where was Erik now?

He wished he would be here. He wished, he had been there..

It was weird, because, sometimes he felt totally numb, not caring about anything, and other times he felt like breaking together, like crying forever about everything. Sometimes he missed the closeness of others around himself, and sometimes he did hate everyone around himself, was afraid of them...And sometimes he wished that there would be someone, someone who could help him out of all this misery.

And sometimes he felt like hiding under his blanket, hiding from the world outside, because it was a cruel world outside there..

It was so hard to let someone near himself, and he did not know why. It was just... if someone touched him then...

"Charles?" Raven's worried voice asked, and suddenly he realized that they were back in the mansion; they were in the entrance hall, Raven crouching in front of his wheelchair, eyeing him with concern in her yellow eyes. "Are you..okay?"

Sharon meowed sadly.

Nothing was okay.

Charles just nodded.

Sharon gave him a reproachful glance and he patted her shiny black fur as his lips turned into a breath of a smile; a sad smile.

It's alright, dear...Don't be angry.

Please,..

...just...

..don't be angry at me...

Translation:

"A little man stands in the forest, very quiet and silently

He wears around a sheer purple little cloak.

Say, who can be the little man,

Who stands in the forest alone,

With the purple little cloak? "

(A little man stands in the forest, children's song)

Gott ist tot: God is death ( You might know that sentence as "the death of god", but Magneto means it in another way, I guess, not quite like Nietzsche^^" Well, maybe in a kind of way... whatever xD)

Note: Oh my, I did some research for mental disorders and possible mental consequences of the happenings, stuff like that, and I've read so much wikipedia stuff xD It was very interesting though..
I always do love to make research for my fanfics, cause I want to make them as real as possible, though, I think the term posttraumatic stress disorder was found later than in the sixties ^^" However, if you want to learn more about it, you have to read the article on wikipedia or somewhere else xD
I hope I did everything right, m not a doctor, as you know.. xD