A/N: Hope you enjoyed last chapter's attempted humor, because THE ANGST IS BACK. (Cue dark, disturbing music)
Warnings: kinda AU, implied violence and death, dark-ish!Charles, a bit of Erik/Charles, slightly implied Hank/Alex. Set some time after First Class. Pretty dark.
Disclaimer: If I owned First Class, I'd . . . think of something witty to put right here.
Am I the only one who thinks it's tragic?
'Cause I know this can't be the real world now –
No, oh, no, oh.
'Real World', The All-American Rejects.
It is mid-evening on a rainy Wednesday when Emma Frost comes to him and says, "Your telepath needs you. It's apparently quite urgent."
Predictably, the first thing Erik does is find Azazel – because his telepath needs him, and the words 'quite urgent' keep pulsing and thrumming in his head over and over, along with some kind of fearful Charles-is-hurt-Charles-is-hurt mantra.
The second he and Azazel appear on the grass outside the mansion, he knows that something is terribly, horribly wrong. The mansion is in total darkness, save for one light shining dimly from the second floor (is it Charles's study? He can't be sure, he doesn't really remember the exact layout of the house). Erik tells Azazel to wait for him and strides purposefully towards Charles's home-turned-school, ignoring the chilly mist fluttering down on him from above. What is a little rain to him when Charles could be hurt or sick, or, God forbid (not that Erik has any use for God or what He forbids), dying?
The sight that greets him upon opening the door is a bit of a shock, to say the least.
There is a dead body in the foyer.
A very large, very blue, very dead body.
Erik bends over slightly, and yes, of course, it is Hank McCoy, his blue fur so darkened with blood that it looks almost black in places. His eyes are closed, his mouth open slightly, revealing sharp teeth. Erik is about to move away when he notices, seemingly protruding from Hank, a long-fingered, pale hand, limply flung out on the floor. Without even thinking, he gently pushes Hank's body to the side, and nearly jumps back when he finds himself face-to-face with Alex Summers. Who is also very, very dead. His eyes are open, wide and gray and empty, and his lips are parted, a thin crust of dried blood on them. Erik straightens, feeling vaguely sick to his stomach as he leaves the two bodies where they are, collapsed over each other on the floor.
He knows now where Charles must be, and he sweeps towards the study. On the staircase is the body of a child. Erik spares it only a passing glance, but not out of disrespect – he does not wish to ogle any murdered mutant children, thank you very much.
There are two more bodies in the hallway, and Erik knows that there must be more somewhere. The house is in tatters – antique vases knocked over, doors flung nearly off their hinges, expensive furniture destroyed. Clearly they (whoever they are) took out Hank and Alex first, leaving the children to panic like chickens with their heads cut off.
He comes to the door of Charles's study, which is closed. He unlocks the door with a twitch of his finger and opens it apprehensively, but the scene before him is not as horrifying as he expected. Charles is sitting in his wheelchair (oh, God, it's true, it's a wheelchair) at his desk. He turns to look at Erik, his blue eyes as wide and empty as a corpse's. Beside him sits Sean, his freckled face reddened from crying.
"Erik," Charles says vaguely. "Hello, old friend."
Erik doesn't bother with a greeting. "What's happened?"
Charles's voice is almost toneless, and Erik longs to run to him and embrace him. He almost wishes Charles would cry, just because it's something Charles would do. "I had business in Washington," he says. "Sean and I went, because I can't travel alone. And the humans came."
"The humans," Erik says rather hollowly. It doesn't surprise him.
"They did this," Charles murmurs quietly. Not you did this – it's they did this now. It's all different now. Charles is different, Erik is different, and the lives of two gifted mutants and several mutant children have been taken. It is wrong, not just different.
"Why did you call me here, Charles?" Erik asks. His voice does not betray his hope, but it is there, shining in his eyes.
Charles's voice is so achingly calm and broken that Erik wonders whether he may just snap and run to kiss the man (he doesn't snap, but he comes close in that instant). "I think you know why, my friend."
Erik nods, walks to the desk, and extends his hand. Charles takes it, hardly glancing at Sean as he says, "We will come with you, for now."
For now. Does that translate to for forever, or does it translate to I can never stay?
Erik's eyes meet Charles's, and he squeezes Charles's warm hand instinctively. Whatever it means, he will find out – and he will find it out the right way, the way it was always meant to be – with Charles at his side.
A/N: Gah, darkness. Reviews are much appreciated!