A/N: Oooh, a little post-First Class sort-of-AU thing going on here . . .
Warnings: angst, Erik/Charles. Set 20 years after First Class, and features a certain David Haller, my current obsession.
Disclaimer: If I owned X-Men, I would make a movie where Erik and Charles played daddy to all the little mutants in the world. AND IT WOULD BE ADORABLE.
And right here, right now,
All the way in Battery City
The little children raise their open, filthy palms,
Like tiny daggers up to Heaven.
'Na Na Na', My Chemical Romance.
"So, you're interested in the Brotherhood."
"Yes." Charles, Charles, Charles . . .
Erik raises a single eyebrow underneath his helmet. "Your name, may I ask?"
A pair of achingly familiar baby blues are glinting at him, and yet these are not the eyes of Charles Xavier – not at all. But this young man does bear a striking resemblance to him, and Erik has a sinking feeling in his gut that it is not just passing. And when he hears the young man's name, the sinking feeling becomes a full-fledged plunging.
"David. David Charles Haller."
Across the room, Raven's eyes widen – she too has noticed all the similarities, the dark wavy hair, the creamy skin, and the eyes, Christ, oh, the last time Erik saw eyes so blue – but Raven is far too wise to say anything. She is not Raven anymore, not the spunky young girl filled with aching insecurities; she is Mystique, just as Erik is no longer Erik Lehnsherr, lover and partner of Charles Xavier – he is Magneto now, and must behave accordingly.
"And your mutation?"
David's smile is smug, knowing, sly. Not a Charles smile at all. (Erik has entire mental dictionaries devoted to analyzing each and every one of Charles's many features and expressions.) This young man – he appears to be around twenty-five, meaning that he would have been a young child when Erik first met Charles (and God, Charles couldn't have known, because of course he would have mentioned this) – is dangerous. Erik can sense it, they all can.
"Telepathy," he says. "Among other things."
Emma's cool voice drifts over from across the room, where she stands with Raven (Mystique, he corrects himself – apparently all it takes is a dead ringer for Charles to make him forget everything that has happened in the past twenty years). "It runs in the family, apparently."
David's gaze flicks to her, and something shifts almost imperceptibly behind his eyes – Erik wonders just what the two telepaths are doing inside each others' heads. "You know my father, of course."
Erik has to speak – he is the boss here, not Miss Frost. "Your father is Charles Xavier, correct?"
David looks back at Erik. Erik suddenly decides that those eyes are not Charles's at all – they hold far too many secrets. "Yes."
Erik leans back in his chair slightly, sizing up the man. If he is half as gifted as Charles, he will make a good addition. "Yet you choose not to go with the X-Men." If this isn't a ploy, then such a lack of loyalty is cause for concern. How can you be a member of the Brotherhood if you show nothing for your own father?
David smiles darkly, almost evilly (and Erik himself may be evil, but at least he is not as disturbed as this boy seems to be). "My father doesn't know I exist. I plan to keep it that way."
"Very well," Erik says, leaning forward again, his eyes almost hidden in the shadow of the helmet (the helmet that protects him from Emma, and David, and above all, Charles). "Welcome to the Brotherhood."
The young man grins, and Erik's chest tightens oddly. Even his mouth has the same shape and color as Charles's, and yet the very aura coming off of him is so different. There is none of Charles's gentle, intelligent peace – there is only a dark, discomforting feeling that makes Erik very vaguely want to leave the room (run from the room – no, he wants to run all the way to New York, he wants to run to Charles and fling himself at Charles's useless feet to beg for forgiveness – but he cannot.)
David offers his hand for a shake, and Erik takes it, biting back his reluctance. His eyes meet David's again – silver-green meeting sky blue once more, but it is so different now, because this isn't him, the one Erik really wants – and he chastises himself for being so weak. This is a good thing; if this young man has Charles's gifts, what does it matter that he looks just like Charles (he even bears Charles as his middle name – Erik curses David's mother – whoever she is – for naming him this and for sleeping with Charles in the first place).
Quite by accident, Erik's eyes meet Emma's. The look on her face is so easy to read that it's almost as though she's speaking inside his head (which is, of course, impossible). Her expression almost screams, so after twenty years, have you finally found your replacement?
No, Erik desperately wants to respond (but alas, it is another thing he cannot do). The void has merely grown that much wider.
A/N: . . . I had to do it! Forgive me! Reviews are greatly appreciated, my lovelies.