Sorry about not posting! I had an Anthropology test to study for… I had a lot of fun writing this chapter due most likely to my obsession with Magneto/Erik/Michael Fassbender. He is one beautiful man! I hope I did him justice in this chapter… There are a few parts near the middle that I wanted to elaborate on but I couldn't figure out how to do so without making it sound like I was rambling (kinda like I am now) REVIEW PLEASE! This is my first FanFiction story and I want to know if anybody likes it! And even if you don't, tell me what I can do better!
Erik shivered slightly against a current of cold Oxford wind. His cigarette blushed slightly in the breeze as a young women rushed across the deserted campus. It was a good thing she wasn't closer or else she might be slightly suspicious of the tall Germans choice in headgear. Erik hadn't taken Shaw's helmet off since that day on the beach. Since the day he had left a broken Charles in the arms of that woman. That human woman.
Erik leaned his head back to gaze up at the white sky before rubbing out his cigarette on the wooden bench he was seated on. The angry hiss filled the silence but was soon lost in the snowy surroundings. He could picture Charles here. But not in the snow. Charles had always loved the sun.
He could see him now on the hillside opposite the bench. Long green grass whispering in the warm breeze, Charles among his many texts his fingers massaging the side of his temple. The sun reflecting off his copper curls that he brushed out of his eyes every time the wind caught them.
Something brought Charles attention away from his beloved books and he laughed softy at something Erik couldn't see. The young recruits began gathering around Charles, all of them laughed and basked in the sunlight that Erik couldn't touch. Charles's bright blue eyes found Erik and shone with so much happiness that Erik was immediately reminded of how he had spent summer days in Poland before the war.
Charles beckoned for Erik to join the happy group just as the others noticed him as well. Erik shook his head sadly at the sunlit apparition. "You deserve the summer my friend" Erik whispered
Charles's smile faded "But you are in the winter," He said "and all I want, all I have ever wanted, is to be with you." Erik nearly broke at the fake Charles's words.
"No." Erik said forcefully. Standing up, Erik turned his back on the summer dream
"Erik wait!" The wind howled at the metal bender.
"Don't turn around. Don't turn around." Erik screwed his eyes shut against the brunets' words.
"Erik!" Charles screamed and it sounded so much like him… maybe it was actually Charles… Had his friend found him at last? Had he forgiven Erik for all the pain he had caused?
Erik spun around and stared down in horror. Charles lay at Erik's feet his hair was no longer shining, but plastered to his head and littered with bit of leaves and mud. He was dragging himself through the half melted snow and leaving a crimson trail.
"You did this to me…" Charles gasped. Erik shook his head and took a few stumbling steps away from the phantom.
Two figures came into view behind Charles. Erik gasped as he came face to face with his parents. "You did this…" His mother rasped at him. Blood ran down her face from the wound inflicted all those years ago. Back when Erik was to weak to save her. She stood next to his father who was entirely made of ash parts of him, made from ember, glowed faintly despite the frigid air.
"Oh god," Erik sobbed, looking from Charles then back up to his mother and father "I am so sorry."
Charles and his parents began screaming in Erik's head. "Your fault Erik. This is your fault. Your fault. Your fault! YOUR FAULT!" Cold tears ran down Erik's face as he turned and sprinted away from the dark specters.
Moments later Erik found himself inside a crowded pub seated alone in a shadowy corner near the toilets. A glass of scotch was in his hand the amber liquid nearing the bottom.
"I like scotch too." A familiar voice said. Erik jerked out of the slight haze of the alcohol. Charles sat across from him grinning at Erik's stunned face.
"You aren't real." Erik muttered finishing off what was left in his glass.
"My dear friend," Charles told him "I am only as real as you need me to be. And right now it looks like you need me as much as I need you." Erik sighed and slid the glass toward his friend. The bar didn't even twitch at the sound of glass breaking on the dirty floor.
Charles chuckled "Real only in your mind, Erik. I'm afraid I can't interact with you. Not physically anyway."
"So what," Erik said bitterly "I am supposed to sit here and talk to a figment of my imagination?"
Charles grinned at Erik saying "I highly doubt people will think you any more loony if that is your primary concern. Especially considering your determined efforts to bring red metal helmets into popular fashion."
Erik scowled at Charles "My mind," Erik said slowly "my thoughts, are, and always will be, mine. I don't need telepaths like you weeding through my secrets."
"I am a part of your mind, Erik. You no longer have the luxury of shielding your emotions. Not from me."
Charles murmured. Reaching across the dusty table Charles placed a hand over Erik's. Erik expected to feel the soft caress of Charles's warm palm but frowned when he couldn't register even the gentlest touch.
"I'm sorry" Erik told the brunet turning his palm so it rested against Charles's.
"There is nothing to forgive." Charles told him kindly. "You ought to leave though." Charles said quickly "I am afraid that you may have already attracted a bit of unwelcome attention." Charles nodded toward a few policemen who sat nearby and were motioning in Erik's direction.
"Won't you come with me?" Erik said softly, glancing furtively at the authorities.
"I'll be here as long as you want me." Charles murmured.
Erik stood up and quickly strode out of the pub. The cold wind blasted against Erik's warm cheeks as he heard the door close behind him. Charles stood beside him on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold. "Are you cold?" Erik asked.
"I only feel what you feel. If you feel cold then so must I" Charles's teeth chattered as he spoke.
"Oi! You!" Came a shout from behind the two men or rather, the one man and his imaginary friend.
Erik turned to see the three clearly intoxicated policemen staggering toward him. Erik glared at them his hands balling into fists in his coat pockets. "Calm your mind Erik." Charles warned, "Just find out what they want."
The three men came up offensively close to Erik, the harsh smell of whiskey in the air. "Good evenin' sir." One of them, the apparent leader, slurred while the others snickered.
"Can I help you?" Erik growled, gritting his teeth against the cold.
"Would ya look at the lads!" The leader said, "We've found ourselves a big ol' German." The other two burst into giggles. "So what side were you on then?" Erik said nothing.
"Lets see then!" The officer said reaching for Erik's left arm.
"Fuck off!" Erik snarled
"Just walk away, Erik" Charles said calmly. Erik ignored him.
"So a Jew then." The officer chuckled but the other two didn't make a sound.
"Good day, officer" Erik said, turning away.
"Where the 'ell do you think you are going?" The policemen said grabbing Erik by the sleeve.
Erik tensed. "Now can I hit him?" Erik asked looking at Charles who frowned.
"You know I don't condone violence." Charles told him.
"Who the 'ell are you talkin' to?" The policemen asked.
Erik turned around, the officers hand slid off Erik's arm. "Me?" Erik said, "I'm talking to my friend who I shot in the back about two months ago."
"What are you on about?" one of the other officers said as he pulled out his baton. The others copied him. Erik grinned as he felt the metal beneath their uncertain fingers. The batons were quickly whips from the authorities hands and floated mid air above them.
The three men yelled in surprise as their weapons turned upon them. "Would you look at that!" Erik said, "Must be ghosts!" The batons suddenly rained upon their previous masters, bashing continuously into the heads and forearms of the squealing policemen. Laughing as the three turned and ran down the street away from him. Erik readjusted his helmet before pacing back to where he had parked his car earlier that morning.
"That wasn't funny, Erik" Charles scolded. Erik continued laughing despite his friends frown.
"Same old Charles." Erik said before continuing down the road, Charles trotting closely behind.
Well? What do you guys think? Any comment is appreciated just try not to be too harsh… I'm pretty sure I made it so you can say curse words but I'd prefer it if you didn't use them! I have lived in America all my life so I don't know much about British people but I feel like Charles felt pretty European like in the movie. I know Erik is supposed to be a bit manlier but I wanted to maybe bring out his sad side, and since Charles is in a rage-fueled depression I think it's only fair that Erik should have some guilt-fueled hallucinations. I do love the crazies. Thanks for reading! ~Goldfish