Author's Note:
Takes place about a year and a half after Cuba and is the meeting referenced in chapter 8 of 'My Name is Max' during Raven's conversation with Charles.
Also, if you're still interested in the main fic - yes, I am currently working on the next chapter of 'MNIM' and no I definitely haven't abandoned the fic! Sorry for the long wait but I am plugging away at it! Thanks for your patience!
Chapter 8: The Brotherhood vs. the X-Men
The mission in Arizona was supposed to be a simple one. Their intel was good and their planning meticulous.
A mutant detention center in the middle of the desert; drab concrete in dull beige with little external security and inconspicuous to the untrained eye.
An easy break-in and extraction, to be followed by a very clear message left by The Brotherhood in the form of twenty dead scientists and a demolished research facility.
Magneto's gone over all possible contingencies and has multiple plans in place should something unexpected happen. He's prepared for dead bodies and mutants in need of urgent medical attention.
He sent Mystique to infiltrate the facility a week ago to get information on security, guard rotations and escape routes. He has Azazel ready to teleport his team in and the prisoners out and Frost on hand to deal with surprises.
There's only one thing he didn't plan for.
The presence of Charles Xavier.
They teleport outside the compound in the pre-dawn hours, at the tail end of the night shift when the facility staff numbers are lowest. This is the time of day when the guards are least prepared for an attack, counting down the minutes until they're relieved by the arrival of the morning crew along with the influx of scientists.
Magneto chooses this period solely based on how quickly he can reach the incarcerated mutants; there are a couple at least who require immediate medical attention and he doesn't want to risk any harm coming to them with a drawn out engagement. Once the prisoners are secured, they'll wait for the shift change and deal with the rest of the humans as they arrive.
"He's here," Emma says her voice cuts through the morning quiet, seconds after Azazel drops them outside the barbed wire fence.
"Who?" He doesn't like the wariness he hears from the telepath who always takes such pain to maintain an air of detachment.
She tilts her head for a moment, the fingers on her left hand twitching slightly before she turns to look at him and answer, "The prisoners are already free. Xavier and his team are with them now."
It's unexpected; so unexpected that Magneto is completely blindsided by her words. Though Charles is never far from his thoughts he's not prepared to see him in the middle of a mission and the time it takes to form a response is damning. He turns away from his team, gruff words to mask uncertainty and barks, "Take us there."
They abandon all efforts at stealth; he knows Charles would have bypassed security and dealt with all the guards before going after the prisoners. Rounding the corner of the building at a brisk pace Emma directs them towards the facility entrance where his former lover is already waiting for them by the front doors, flanked by their old team mates.
"Charles!" Mystique runs ahead of them, hesitating slightly as she approaches her brother and coming to a complete stop just a few feet away from his wheelchair. She looks torn, unsure of her welcome and reluctant to show vulnerability in front of the other members of the Brotherhood. The Professor smiles but makes no move to bridge the distance, answering only with a soft, "Hello, Raven."
It's been a year and half since he saw Charles last, just two weeks after their split in Cuba. Magneto remembers well how fragile the telepath looked lying in his hospital bed, bruised and tired eyes pleading with him to just stay, to please listen. The desperation and pain he tasted on Charles' lips as the telepath kissed him and said you should go, and you need to go, now.
The man in front of him now is nothing like the Charles Xavier he remembers – not the soft warmth of a lover, nor the vivacious will of a kindred soul. Sitting poised and relaxed in his custom wheelchair is a stranger in a charcoal grey suit, wearing the face of the man he loves. Familiar eyes sweep from Mystique to take in the others standing behind him, landing on Magneto last, dark and unfathomable.
"Charles," he says. Calm. Neutral.
"Erik," the other man responds, equally detached though his eyes…his eyes sear a path straight through his defences, cutting deep into wounds still raw and festering. "I suppose we should have expected to find you here."
"We're here for the prisoners," Magneto answers evenly, eyes flickering briefly to take in McCoy and Summers who have inched closer to the Professor, body language tense and hostile. Summers' face contorts into a snarl, his mouth opening no doubt to spew vitriol at the Brotherhood when he suddenly stops, head tilting slightly towards Charles before snapping his mouth shut with a huff.
McCoy's voice is a deep rumble when he speaks, his own narrowed eyes darting between the members of the Brotherhood before settling on Mystique who has stepped back to her place beside Magneto. "The prisoners are safe. We're taking them with us so they can rest and recuperate."
"And after?"
"And then they're free to go!" Summers all but shouts at them, full of derision and contempt. "They've suffered enough! We're not going to keep them if they don't want to stay. And we're certainly not going to let you recruit them into your little group of murderers and psychopaths!"
Mystique takes a small step forward, hands up to placate Summers. "Alex, we don't—"
"Shut up, traitor! I don't want to hear anything from you—"
"That's enough," Charles interrupts, voice so quiet Magneto can barely hear him through the helmet, though the others - minus Frost - all wince, stunned into silence by what must be a rather forceful telepathic command. Staring up at him the Professor continues, tone distant and civil, hands steady on the padded armrests of his chair, "Our work is done here. The prisoners are no longer in danger and Sean is helping the last of them to our…transportation. The research is no more and the facility staff have been dealt with. They'll have no memory of what happened here today when they wake up. You and your team should feel free to go."
A warning; even masked by the civility Magneto can clearly see the strain on the Professor's face, evident by the newly formed lines around his eyes. He doesn't want to fight with him or any of the others; they all came today with the same goal - to rescue their fellow mutants in need. Magneto intends to let them take the former prisoners without argument but has no intention of leaving until he finishes the job. "We'll leave once we've dealt with the scientists."
A flash of anger crosses the telepath's face at his words, sky blue eyes turning dark and stormy as the sea. The tension may have been palpable before but it's nothing compared to the weight of the air now, so thick with adrenaline and bloodlust that Erik can almost taste the violence that's poised to erupt between the Brotherhood and the X-Men.
"You know I can't let you do that, Erik," Charles says, back straight and knuckles white. "Leave now and let me deal with the scientists."
"Why waste your energy on them, sugar?" Frost cuts in from his left, ignoring the scowl that Magneto sends her way. "Run along to your little school with the kiddies and let us do the dirty work."
"So we should leave and let you kill them all?" McCoy asks with a low growl. "That's crazy. We've destroyed all the research and the Professor will wipe the memories of the others when they arrive. There's no need to kill anyone."
"Wiping their memories won't stop them from kidnapping more mutants and starting over," Magneto counters, letting his anger and irritation from everything – seeing Charles in the chair, the confrontation, the experiments - suffuse his words. "Killing them will send a clear message. We won't tolerate the torture and abuse of our brothers and sisters."
It's not what he wants, not at all, but Magneto's starting to think that conflict is inevitable. His people are primed for a fight as are the members of Charles' team – including Cassidy who joined them during the last exchange, slipping quietly to stand beside Summers, eyes flickering warily between Azazel, Janos and Angel. The X-Men, even with the Professor's venerable powers are outnumbered and under-powered compared to his own team and he can't help but be frustrated by his ex-lover's stubbornness even when the man is clearly at a disadvantage.
"Are you sure, Erik?" Charles asks, his gaze steady and unrelenting. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
The words "You can't stop me—" have barely made it out of his mouth before his entire team disappears in a puff of sulfur, Mystique crying out for Charles as Azazel teleports Magneto's team from the premises without warning. Frost is the only one that remains by his side, her diamond form and his helmet protecting them from the telepathic assault.
"Now that I've evened the odds a little," Charles says, his eyes locked on Magneto, hands still on his armrests; no visible tells to indicate or warn of his intentions. "I'm going to ask you again. Are you sure you want to do this? I can't stop you or Ms. Frost in her current form but my presence will at least negate any telepathic attacks against my X-Men. And while I can't be certain of our victory today, I can assure you that this fight will not be an easy one."
What little hope Erik has carried with him since the last time he saw Charles - that tiny, fragile dream of forgiveness and reconciliation - is shattered as he takes in the stubborn set of the telepath's jaw and the look in those piercing eyes, devoid of patience and warmth. It's that, more than the threat of violence and his own abhorrence to hurting mutants and former companions that crumbles his resolve.
"We'll leave," Erik answers, his tone mild and detached to hide the hurt and pain and helpless rage roiling violently in his gut. "I don't want to fight you, Charles. You or your team. But I won't let you stop me either. Next time, I'll be ready for you." He turns without waiting for a reply, Frost at his side as he strides away from the telepath, every step widening the divide between Erik Lensherr and the man who once saved his life and gave it meaning beyond hatred and revenge.
"And I'll be waiting, my friend."