Omg, had to live through the last episode of Sherlock (emotional overkill) and the latest chapter (32) of Nine Eleven Ten (OOOMGGG!). I was (still I am ) emotionally fucked up, so...Sorry for the long wait^^"
The lyrics I've taken are not the full lyrics of the songs. I've just chosen the parts which fit the chapter the most.
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Thanks for the awesome reviews! :)

"You live in a darkness
Made out of your fear

Your world is in danger
But your world isn't real

You see what is imagined
Dreaming what you feel..."

(I am by Joseph Arthur)

Chapter 11

Actually, the cat had never been given a proper name, and it still did not have one - officially.

For Charles it was named Sharon. He thought it suited her, and the cat didn't seem to mind.

For the others it was just 'the cat', because they hadn't been able to find a name that everyone liked.

Charles could remember that Sean would have liked to name it 'Blacky' but Raven had been strictly against this name. Charles had never ask her why. She had said something about "Wouldn't want to be called 'Bluey' either."

The sun was warm on Charles' skin, even if it wasn't really on his skin; he was moving around with his mental-body again, closely followed by Sharon, who had nothing better to do than following him anyway.

The grass was soft under his bare feet and he smiled absently. He had never bothered to walk on grass without his shoes to feel the soft grass tickling his feet, but it felt really nice. He never had done this as child; his mother wouldn't allow him to run around with bare feet, and Kurt wouldn't allow him to go outside at all. But, sometimes Charles had sneaked outside, together with Raven. They had been caught, once, and after that they had never tried to do it again. Kurt had made sure of that.

Charles smiled down at his feet; Sharon was purring, rubbing her head against his legs, begging to be patted. Charles bent down with a soft smile as he placed his hand on the small head of the cat, his fingers stroking over the black fur while the cat purred happily.

The astral-plane was amazing; here he could pretend that he could walk, and he could pretend to feel the sun on his too pale skin, and he could pretend that he could feel the green grass under under his feet. Everything was fine.

No,it was not.

Of course it was not.

Nothing was alright, and Charles knew this more than anyone else.

He-had-to-stop it!

He had to snap out of out!

He had to pull himself together, his breakdown had shown him that. He wouldn't survive another breakdown, wouldn't survive it mentally, and what he feared the most was that next time someone would get hurt.

Charles couldn't remember what had happened, not exactly, but he had seen the living room, had seen the broken windows and the destroyed shelves, had seen the broken TV, and had known that it was HIM who had done this.

His powers had been out of control, they always were if he couldn't control his emotions, and as to be seen he couldn't control his emotions very well, not with his current state of mind.

It was a dilemma, it truly was, and Charles knew that he HAD to do something about it.

Of course he had suffered.

Of course it had hurt.

Of course it still did hurt.

Of course it would never be alright again.

But he couldn't continue to live like this, not only because of his own sake, but also for the sake of the others.

It was selfish to drown himself in self-pity.

Charles Xavier was stubborn, and maybe sometimes slightly arrogant, but surely he wouldn't refuse to pull himself together for his friends sake. He should accept their help, he really should, but he would not because he would manage to pull himself together - on his own. They had done enough for him, and he was thankful for that, but now it was time to show himself that he wasn't as pathetic as he made himself believe.

It would be an awful lot of work, and he would have to order his mind and go through the nightmares of the event once again, but ...he had to find peace, and he would only find peace if he faced what had destroyed him.

I fear I am mentally unstable. He chuckled slightly, sadly, and Sharon gave him a wary gaze. I don't know if I am strong enough to do it, to face it...I know I had a lot of time, over a month now, but...It still does hurt so much... He clasped the fabric of his black vest with his right hand, right above his heart, as if to emphasize his words.

Sharon stayed quiet.

I am talking to a cat...You know how weird this feels? And to himself he thought, Well, just another sign that you're slowly going mad.

Of course she didn't knew. Charles was sure that the cat gave him a offended glance, but maybe he was just imagining things. He was imagining a lot lately...

Why was it so easy to talk to a cat, while it was almost unberable to communicate with other people? With his friends?

Why was it so easy to touch the cat, the cuddle it, while he feared to be touched be the ones who loved him, fully aware that they wouldn't harm him?

Why did he flinch every time he saw a man?

Why couldn't he stop himself from shaking when someone approached him?

Why was it so difficult to sleep peacefully?

Why couldn't he bring himself to accept help?

So many questions, and yet he had the answer already; he had been raped, for god's sake, of course he couldn't just go back to his normal life, of COURSE it was different and difficult now, and of course it was not easy to trust others!

It all, all of it, were signs of someone who suffered from trauma, and back in the clear part of his head he KNEW this, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it, because he felt even more pathetic and useless then...

It's not fair...Charles mumbled, but yet he wasn't angry at anyone, not anymore; his rage and hate had ebbed into a dull nothingness.

It could have been worse. It always could have been worse.

He, Charles, was alive, and that was what mattered.

He had his friends to help him.

He had Erik.

He would be able to pull himself together.

He would be able to walk again, maybe with a crutch and a greave, but it was okay, it was alright.

He was ambidextrous and therefore he wouldn't have to miss being able to write, even if he would miss the piano. But, better one damaged and a good hand than no hands at all.

And, most important; he was aware of himself. He knew who he was, and he was not completely broken. He would heal, some day...

Someday he would open a school, he would teach mutant children to...To what?

He wouldn't be able to teach them to be proud, not when he wasn't proud of being a mutant himself. He wouldn't be able to teach them to accept humans if he wasn't sure if he could still accept the human behavior towards mutants.

The pieces, his dreams, Charles had to gather them back together.

He should gather them back together.

Charles was not sure if he wanted gather them back together.

The wounds were deep, not the physical ones, no, they were healing, it were the mental ones that hurt the most.

I ...I don't want to be broken.

No, he had to correct himself;

I don't want to stay broken.

Sharon meowed.

The telepath sighed as he leaned back up to stare at the blue sky of the astral plane. He could see the moon, and the sun. It was a clear sky, clear blue, without any clouds. He silently asked himself if the sky in the real world looked the same. Probably.

The sun was almost golden, and the moon a pale bluish white, but it was the sky that was impressive; it was such a bright and warm blue, Charles really could imagin it to be the sea.

He also liked the grass; it was bright green, a stark contrast to the blue sky and the redish leaves of the black trees. Charles wondered why the leaves where red, since it wasn't autumn yet, but this was the astral plane, everything was possible.

He could change it, if he wanted to, but he liked the plane as it was. Maybe he had changed it already. Charles wasn't sure.

I really wished I could go out for real. You know, walking around the grounds...

Sharon blinked, and Charles was sure she would raise an eyebrow if she could. He had to mentally laugh at the image.

Of course I could go out. He added while rolling his eyes, But I would have to use the wheelchair. Anyway, Hank wouldn't allow me to go outside, not right now. I think he still fears that I am too weak due my breakdown.

The cat nodded, or at least it looked like nodding to Charles, though soon he realized that she was only cleaning herself with her pink tongue.

They all thought he was made of glass, but he wasn't. It was bad enough that he had had a breakdown, but now they were even more worried about him, always careful not to hurt him or to trigger a situation where he was reminded of the happening.

They were overly careful, and he knew they meant it well, but he felt too patronized, pathetic.

It was not like he was annoyed of their care, no he wasn't, but it was too much. He felt stifled by their care and worry, and it was difficult to rebuild himself if they blocked the prozess with their fear of another breakdown.

It was normal to go through the horrors of the event, it was normal to have nightmares and breakdowns, but they knew that, should know it, and still they were so worried.

Why?

Somehow it was difficult for Charles to understand it.

Normally Charles was the one who worried about others, always wanting to help, and it was so out of character to be the one who was weak.

He never had been weak, not as a child, even if Kurt or Cain had been able to hurt him, not as grown man.

He had always been in control, and now he had to gather it back, the control, the control over his life.

Maybe he needed all the care, maybe people like him - he had to chuckle dryly at that thought - who had suffered trauma needed others to help them, but he would stay stubborn, probably.

Charles had no idea how to handle a patient who had suffered trauma, and he doubted that Hank had known it before it had happened.

Charles let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. I wish I could turn back time...

Everything would be so much easier...

Sharon, once again, was quiet. She was just a cat, and a cat would never answer verbally.

The wind turned cold, suddenly, and Charles began to shiver. The telepath opened his eyes and furrowed his brow; it was definitely colder than it had been mere minutes before, causing him to rubb his hands over the goosebumbs on his arms. His hair swirled around his head and into his eyes, making it difficult to see anything.

What had caused the sudden change in weather?

Charles' eyes wandered over the pond and to the trees in the distance.

What he saw made his heart skip a beat; two pesons were walking towards the mansion.

He couldn't see much out of the distance, and he couldn't see much because of his stubborn hair, but he could feel the coldness that swept through the air as those two approached him. He could SEE the darkness, the black spot in the astral plane, the same darkness that he had seen once before. It was a bright day, the sun as high as she could get, but still there was just...darkness, nothingness...

It made Charles guts cramp painfully with fear.

The person next to the shadow was...made of diamond. It was a woman, that much was certain, because she had two rather big breasts and long hair. The light of the sun was reflected by the icy diamond, making her glow. There was nothing warm in her appearance. She was as cold as ice, and as unreadable as the shadow besides her. He couldn't feel her presence either.

He had seen that woman before...But where?

Charles was afraid, so afraid that he couldn't grasp a clear thought.

NO one, NO one was suposed to be unreadable in the astral plane, not without not knowing that there was an astral plane at all. Or, maybe they knew? Charles could almost feel his face turning paler as it already was.

He had to go, he had to leave, immediately! He had to go back into his body, telling the others that someone was approaching, someone who didn't seem to come in peace...

The jump back into his body was rather painfull and sudden, causing him to whince as he grabbed his aching head. His heart was beating in his chest as if he'd run miles, his breathing was shallow and frantic.

Sharon eyed him with her green eyes, lying on the blanket at the end of the large bed.

Charles groand as he tried to push himself upwards with his arms, but they gave away under him, causing him to fall back on the soft mattress.

No,nononono!

He was trembling all over.

God,no, you are pathetic, Xavier!

His mouth felt dry and bitter as he tried once again to push himself up, but his shaky arms couldn't support his weight.

He felt sick.

The door opened, and Charles nearly jumped off the bed. "Charles, are you feeling well?"

Hank, god, it was Hank, Charles could tell him, had to tell him-

Charles reached out, pointing at the desk with the papers and the pen, urging Hank to follow his movement, but Hank seemed busy with his chart, totally ignoring Charles' weak attempt to start a conversation.

"Did you take the painkillers?"

No, no he hadn't, because they made him groggy, so look Hank, watch my damn finger!

Hank, finally, looked up, raising an eyebrow as Charles threw his hand in the air over and over again, pointing with his index-finger at the table.

"Oh, sure." Hank smiled and walked up to the desk. Charles felt a rush of relief running through him. "Do you want a glass of water?"

Charles eyes turned to the empty glass on the desk, which stood next to the block of white paper, and his eyes widened, then he hastily shook his head, what had been a stupid idea because it made his head swim. "Oh, then, the pen and paper, I assum?" Charles nodded urgently.

Hank gathered the block of white paper and the blue pen, then he walked up to Charles' side and gave him the objects. Charles grabbed the pen, hastily scribbling down his note. His hand was shaking badly, he could barely read his own writing and instandly hoped that Hank would be able to decipher it.

"Oh, you are in a rather talkative mood today." Hank noticed happily, but Charles wasn't as happy as the blue scientist. The telepath ripped the paper of the block and handed it over for Hank to read it.

In a messy cursive handwriting was written;

Someone is out there.

They do not seem to be friendly.

You immediately need to warn the others.

Hank stared at the paper for mere minutes, rather long minutes for Charles, and sighed. "I see..." He didn't sound as if he believed what Charles had just written down.

"Just calm down, Charles." The voice of Hank was low, soothingly. "It must have been a nightmare again. I will give you a sedative, so you'll calm down, alright?"

NO!

No, nothing was alright!

Charles shook his head violently, his brow furrowed in despair.

Hank probably thought that Charles was hallucinating, imagining things while being drugged, but he wasn't! He had SEEN them! He was sure!

Oh, really? His inner voice snarled. Are you really sure that it was real?

No, he wasn't.

But, he had seen them...

You are drugged, all hours of the day and even night, so are you honestly able to tell what's real and what isn't?

Yes, he was, he could, he-

No.

No, maybe he couldn't.

But...

See, his inner voice mumbled, almost sad. See, now you've truly become mad..

But..But he had seen it, the night, the shadow, he was sure, it had been real...

But, what was real for a telepath anyway?

Charles sighed, closing his eyes and pressed his mouth together until it was a thin line.

When he opened his eyes again his gaze fell on Sharon.

The cat looked almost sad.

...

"I owe my life to you
I can endure no more,
I demand you remember who you are
It was you, who believed in me...
You saved my life, now maybe it's my turn to save yours
But I can never repay you, what you did for me is way more..."

(I need a doctor, Eminem feat. Dr. Dre & Liz Rodrigues)

...

"What the...What is she doing here!"

Raven was angry, more than angry, her blue face twisted into a grimace of anger and hate. She had never seen Emma herself, only heard the story that Charles had told her after they'd come back from Russia, but she obviously seemed to recognize Emma.

The blue girl wasn't pleased to see the diamond woman.

Erik sighed, raising his hand to calm Raven down.

Emma had her head raised in an arrogant manner, clearly not amused by Raven's behavior.

"I am here to help the Xavier brat!" The blonde hissed.

Raven's yellow eyes narrowed even further, her gaze darting to Erik. "What the hell! What does that mean, Erik! You haven't told us anything! Is that how you want to solve all our problems, by not telling us anything!"

Alex, who stood at the banister, snorted approvingly. The blonde boy wasn't the biggest fan of Erik anyway.

"Let me explain!" Erik snarled, but Raven just laughed dryly. "No! I won't let you explain anything! You're doing an awful lot of things on your own lately, things that we are part of, things which will have consequences, but you never ASK us! You never even consider it! That's not fair!"

Alex nodded, his mouth a grim line. "Raven is right. We're young adults, we should be able to ..."His gaze wandered to Emma. "To choose with whom we want to work in the future."

There was a heavy silence afterwards, all four of them staring at each other.

Erik was no telepath, but he could almost feel Raven's disappointment. She was often disappointed in him lately. Maybe he was doing something wrong after all.

Emma chose to speak, her voice cool and dry.

"Well, if you want me to go, I'll go. I have no interest for anything that has to do with you. Don't think I like being here, because I don't." She turned her head to Erik. "Sorry darling." And turned back to Raven, who was literally staring daggers at Frost. Erik was sure that Raven was close to strangle Emma, but the blue girl stayed surprisingly calm.

"So, you can help Charles, or what?"

A change of topic, then? Interesting...So, Raven was too worried to be wary for to long.

Emma straightened up, her shoulders drawn back and her head slightly raised. It really looked arrogant, also nobel maybe, but Emma was perfectly aware of that; Emma Frost always needed a show to present herself.

"Well, I might be able to help him, but I am not sure." Her icy eyes turned to Erik, who returned her gaze without flinching back. Charles had blue eyes as well, but Charles' eyes were warm and full of energy - had been like this, once. Emma's eyes were cold, their color distanced as if it was hidden behind blurry glass. Erik didn't like Emma's eyes, they felt like cutting knives. "I don't know what to expect, since Erik-"

He caughed.

She rolled her eyes.

"Magneto-" She corrected herself. "hasn't told me what exactly has happened to your Charles. All I know is that I shall take a look inside his mind."

Raven gasped, her yellow eyes widening. "Wait, you...You what?" She pointed with her index-finger at Erik, her hand shaky. "You can't possibly have said something like that, because if you have I'll skin you."

Emma laughed her high pitched laughter. "I think I might like that girl, Lehnsherr."

Both, Erik and Raven, gave her an annoyed glance.

Erik sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index-finger. Chares had always used to do that when he was emotionally stressed or simply tired and worn out.

"Raven, there aren't many options left. We have take every possibility which could lead to Charles' cure. Emma is one of the few telepaths that I know- " Which happened to be two"- and that's why I've chosen to ask her - without your permission because I knew you wouldn't be pleased."

He took a deep breath, his eyes on Raven who still had a look of disbelief on her face. "Frost's telepathy allows us an access to his mind, helping us to see what is going on inside his head. We might be able to repair what has been broken and-"

To Erik's surprise it was Alex who interrupted him, not Raven like he had expected her to do. "So, do you wanna tell us that you wanna break into his mind?"

Emma rolled her eyes but nodded. "It seems like that, since he is in no state of arguing. At least that's what I've heard." Her eyes turned to Erik, whose face was perfectly calm.

Raven laughed, and it sounded as disbelieving as the look she was wearing on her face. "You want to repair him, then? Like he is a broken machine you can fix?"

The girl laughed again, covering her face with her hand as she took a deep and shaky breath; she was trying to calm herself. "I can't believe it.." She whispered. "Of all people I thought you would know the best that you can't just break into his mind and fix him like he is a broken toy or a puzzel that has to be solved!" She let her hand fall down so that her angry face was to be seen. "He needs care! He is a living soul, not a puppet! You can't just repair him by mending his mind, it's not that easy!"

She cared, she really did, and Erik was slightly taken aback by how emotional the girl was about the whole thing. Of course he had expected her to be angry, but he hadn't thought that she was that much against his methods of helping Charles.

"Of course I know that it won't be as it was before." The metal-bender said slowly, carefully, while watching Raven; the hands of the girl were balled into fists, and she looked as if she was ready to punch something - or rather someone.

"But we have to DO something Raven. I can't stand it anymore, and I know that all of you can't stand it either." His voice was cool, steady, but it was quite an amount of work to speak without a shaky voice.

He wasn't angry at Raven, no, because there was no reason to be angry at her. He was...confused, because, now, he began to wonder if maybe Raven was right.

The girl cared for Charles because she was his sister, he cared for Charles because he loved him. Both of them loved him, in their own way, and both of them wanted to help him, with different methods as it seemed.

Erik straightened his shoulders, standing upright in the doorway. "I want you to watch the process, Raven."

Raven was quiet.

Alex had crossed his arms, but he was quiet as well.

They were listening, and that was good, because he needed them to understand his intentions.

"I want Charles to be as close to his old self as he can be, and we only will be able to achive this if we have the help of someone who can pick up the pieces of his mind. We have to pick him back to gather, piece by piece, and if we're lucky it will be a success. "

"What if it does not work." Raven asked, her voice small and tight. "What if your oh so great plan does not work? What if it makes everything worse?"

Erik had thought of the same possibility, had pondered what he would do if it would end in a bad way. He had no answer yet, but he did not need one, because Erik was sure that everything would be alright. Because he wanted it to be alright. It was ridiculous to cling at the thought of perfection,of hope, but he allowed himself the little comfort that hope was giving him.

"It will work." Erik said, his voice firm, allowing no buts. Raven pressed her lips together, visibly not convinced, but she said nothing in return. She knew that there was no point in arguing with Erik, not now, not anymore.

He had made himself clear, had shown them that he would do what he wanted to do, and they couldn't stop him.

He was their leader, now that Charles was 'gone' and they had to accept that. He made the decisions, they had to follow his orders.

It was like chess.

Erik was the king, and the others were his pawns. Of course Erik would never consider them as his pawns, because they were his friends, Charles' friends, their family, but the world was just a big chessboard and all of them knew it.

"Raven." Erik waved towards her." I will give you my helmet." He placed his hands on either side of the helmet and lifted it from his head. He saw Raven's wide eyes. "Someone has to watch the whole process. I don't trust Frost, I just need her help."

Emma snorted.

"You,Raven, will watch over us and make sure that Emma does her work."

Raven swallowed and her head turned to Emma. "How am I supposed to see what she is mentally doing to you or Charles when I wear the helmet?" Of course she wouldn't know if Emma played with Erik's mind or if she didn't, but Erik felt much safer if he was sure that at least one person was safe from Emma's telepathic touch.

"I just need someone who is protected and able to help us if something goes wrong. We don't know what will happen, it could be that Charles looses his control over his powers." The sentence 'Or that Emma tries to betray us.' stayed unspoken. Erik doubted that Emma would try something as stupid as betraying them. "We need someone whoes mind is safe of telepathic touches."

"Wouldn't it be better if Hank takes the helmet?" Raven asked. "He is the only one who really knows what to do if someone gets injured."

Emma laughed dryly. "Believe me dear, even your scientist wouldn't be able to help anyone of us if Charles looses his control over his telepathic powers. He would pulp your brains within mere seconds."

Alex cleared his throat and mumbled something like, "Great...", but Raven seemed unaffected by this statement.

"I know that very well." She answered cooly. "But he doesn't have to smash our brains to hurt us, what if something else happens?"

Erik sighed and pressed the helmet into Raven's hands. "He would want you to be safe." It was a honest answer.

Raven furrowed her brow, her dark lips a tight line, but she nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's what he would want..." Her gaze was fixed on the helmet in her hands, the fingers of her left hand sliding over the smooth metal as she continued. "...but he would also want you to be safe. He wouldn't want you to risk anything for him."

Erik stayed silent, his gaze on the blue girl, but mentally he agreed. He knew that Charles wouldn't want him to do anything that could possibly hurt anyone he cared for.

"Just do it." Erik's voice was low and stern because he didn't want to show any emotions, not now. "Trust me, you are his sister, he cares for you a lot. " And I feel like I have to do this, because it was me who didn't stop him from leaving the mansion that day.

Yes, Erik felt guilty, and he would always blame himself for it, himself an the humans. God, he would never forgive them.

Raven flinched and a look of fear could be seen behind her eyes. There had to be the wild gleam in Erik's eyes again, the one that Charles had been so worried about.

"It's the look of someone who searches for revenge" The telepath had said, his brow furrowed in worry. "Of someone that hungers for blood. Its the gaze of a murderer, not the gaze of yours."

"But I am a murderer." Erik had replied, his voice cold as steel.

Charles had smiled sadly at that, his voice low and thoughtfully. "No, you are not, Erik. You are a lost soul on its way home, not a murderer."

"I have blood on my hands, Charles, I have killed people, doesn't that make me a murderer?"

Charles had been strangely quiet after that, and after several minutes he had raised his glass of Scotch to his lips. "People can change." He placed his Scotch on the table next to the chessboard after he had taken a sip. "And I believe that you are one of the people who is able to change."

Erik wasn't sure if he would ever change, or if he had changed, but he knew that he felt the same hatred and anger for those stupid human that he had felt for Shaw. It was burning anger which was slowly eating him up from inside.

Surely this wasn't what Charles would have wanted.

Oh,but Charles wouldn't have wanted a lot of things that had happened, and sadly there were more things to happen that he wouldn't like either.

Erik took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

"So, are we going to do it now?" Emma asked casually while eyeing the framed picture which hung at the opposite wall. It was a family portrait of the Xaviers, which showed the blonde Sharon Xavier in a red dress together with the brunette Kurt Marko next to the bully Cain Marko, who stood tall and straight. Charles stood next to his mother, smaller than Cain and a lot thinner and paler, though he didn't look sick, just really worn out, but happy. Erik doubted that this picture showed the real atmosphere that had been in the family. Charles had never told him much about his past, and he had always avoided questions about family issues.

Charles had once told him that he looked a lot like his father, and that in turn had annoyed Kurt and upset his mother.

There was no single picture to be found in the mansion on which Charles' father was to be seen. Erik didn't even know his name. Charles had never told him anything about him, but Erik knew that Charles had loved him a lot.

"Magneto?" Emma's voice was too loud. "Hello? Are you with us or are you drowning in you memories?"

Erik gave her a hateful glance but smiled cooly. "I guess that's not of your concern, Frost."

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "I guess not."

Erik turned away from Emma to face Alex. "You, go and talk to Hank, tell him that I want him to be prepared in case anything happens to one of us."

Alex raised one eyebrow, his arms still crossed in front of his chest. "What do you mean, 'to be prepared'? I thought we're all dead if somethin' happens."

Erik rubbed his forehead. "Just do it,okay?" The blonde teen turned up his nose but turned around to walk to the lab. "Raven, you'll come with us." Raven nodded, clutching the helmet as if it was a life-raft.

They silently walked up to Charles' room, neither of them saying anything.

Raven would be pale, if she could be pale, her shoulders tense and her mouth a small line. She didn't seem to be frightened, just worried.

Emma was totally unaffected, her face a cold mask of beauty.

Erik knew he himself wore a grim look on his face, looking sharp around the edges.

The tension in the air was palpable and the walk to the door seemed endlessly.

They would take a look inside his mind, inside Charles mind, and neither of them was sure what Emma and Erik would see.