Warning: RELIGION (why that has to be a warning I have no earthly idea). I'm not trying to convert anyone, but I know God and therefore my original character knows God. If this offends you, sorry but it's a story and you don't have to take it to heart. I believe in tolerance and that goes both ways, people!

Now that I've gotten off of my soap box, I shall commence with the story! In case of any confusion, yes, Ellie and Erik did. ;)

The emerald flare in the corner of Charles's mind vision continued to warp and pulse with a strange fervor that he had never before seen in her until he moved far enough away from it. He could still sense its frenzied flux of raw emotions and rapid fire nonsense thoughts, but they no longer fried his concentration.

He desperately wanted to look, to slip into the murky rapids of her thoughts, but the very thought filled him with dread.

And fear.

For the first time in his existence, he was afraid of her. His heart was racing in his chest as he made his way outside. He needed some fresh air to cool the sudden heat from his face. Though he looked as serene and in control as always (he had long ago perfected the art of the mask), inside he was scrambling to make sense of things.

That threat had been real. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, without looking, that if she felt him meddling around in her mind, she would not hesitate to tear him apart. It may well kill her when she came to her senses, but the deed would still be done and he would still be dead. He didn't particularly wish to be dead at the moment. He would much rather prefer to be alive, thank you very much. He especially did not wish to die at the hands (or claws, as the case may be) of one person he cared for most in the world. It would also be a fairly painful death that would involve disembowelment, dismemberment and blood. Lots and lots of blood.

Yes, having Ellie kill him would be an incredibly unpleasant experience, so he decided to avoid it at all cost.

His cavalier attitude in no way meant that he belittled the situation. He very well understood the gravity of it all, but keeping light and logical helped the thinking process which helped alleviate the fear. Rationality was the mind's defense, and mankind's defense against most ills. Unfortunately, Charles Xavier seemed to be the only one on the planet who understood this. Ellie certainly did not, that much was evident from her rash, impulsive actions. Although, she really couldn't always help it. Animals weren't generally very reasonable beings. And even Charles had to admit that there was something endearing about her bestial nature, her passion and her conviction that came from a place that the mind could neither touch nor explain.

He found himself comparing the two of them, him a cool river to her raging volcano, but rather than proving to him how little they had in common it seemed to highlight the ways they were compatible. He was comfortable with her, and he knew her inside and out. Better, even, than he knew himself.

Of course, he loved Raven as well. She was his sister, but there was just something different about his relationship with Ellie. Something he couldn't quite place…

A flicker of metal on his tongue alerted him to the stirring of a nearing mind. Erik was heading up the hallway toward the door, his thoughts entirely focused on escaping with is prize. Charles didn't even have to read to find out that that prize was Shaw's file. He knew Erik too well now. With a knowing smile, he melted back into the shadows just outside the door of the building. Erik wouldn't notice him until Charles desired it, putting him in control of the situation. As usual.

The tall man bustled past him without a second glance, completely oblivious to Charles's presence, briefcase clutched tightly in his hand. Shaw was a constant fever in his mind, consuming everything he did, and Charles really hadn't expected him so stick around for so long.

Sensing his cue he stepped from the shadows, the picture of control and benevolence, and said "From what I know about you, I'm surprised you managed to stay this long."

Erik's mind may have jumped when Charles revealed himself, but the man was stoic and showed no hint of any surprise. He turned his icy eyes on Charles and demanded, "What do you know about me?"

Without hesitation, Charles replied. The truth could not be doubted in his face. "Everything."

With equal swiftness and conviction, Erik nearly growled, "Then you'll know to stay out of my head," before turning to continue his journey, trying to prove to Charles that he was not in the position of power here. Erik was and he would show it by leaving even though he'd been caught. Charles nearly laughed at the man's delusions. He would stay. He only needed the right words. Words that Charles had ready-made.

"I'm sorry, Erik, but I've seen what Shaw did to you," he said, stepping forward as Erik moved away. It worked, and he froze, his mind racing. Erik made neither sound nor motion, so Charles continued, letting emotion slip into his voice. "I felt your agony. I can help you."

Now it was Erik's turn. Charles saw the gears turning in the man's mind in reaction to his words. He shifted his feet in the heavy silence, sensing the reply building on Erik's tongue. Sure enough, after a long and laden pause, he slowly turned and nearly growled, "I don't need your help."

"Don't kid yourself, you needed my help last night," Charles argued, knowing he hit the nail on the head. "It's not just me you're walking away from. Here, you have the chance to be part of something much bigger than yourself." He knew that for all of Erik's steely expressions and desire to hold onto an anger that had its origins in the height of human cruelty, there was a part of him (small, mind you) that felt some sort of concern for others. That one statement got to him as nothing had so far. So now, all he had to do was put the icing on the proverbial cake. "I won't stop you," he said, backing away slowly. "I could, but I won't." And he turned and headed for the door, feeling as though he'd done his job splendidly. Just as he reached the door, something came to him and he cast it back over his shoulder without looking. "Shaw's got friends. You could do with some."

Then he entered the building, leaving Erik standing alone on the front walk in the darkness.

He wandered back to his room in a much better mood than the one in which he had left. He was quite confident of Erik's choice, but he would act surprised regardless so as not to unnerve him or seem boastful. His fear had been successfully eliminated from his mind, replaced with only a steely determination not to meddle in Ellie's mind unless she allowed it. And he had gotten a nice dose of clean, fresh air untainted by much industrial activity.

The only thing that still gnawed at him was what on Earth had possibly happened to the girl to deprave her so? Never, in all of their many years together, had she threatened him with so much vehemence. Never had she been pushed so far past the brink of madness.

He wanted to make it go away. He wanted to punish it, whatever the elusive it may be. Of course he would have wanted to, she was one of his very best friends and he loved her as such, but for reasons that escaped him he needed to see her happy again. And he desperately wanted to be the one to do it.

This idea was illogical. It made no sense. He did not understand the strange and nearly overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and quiet the distressed mind with his touch, his warmth. He did not understand the restlessness that came over him, increasing as he drew nearer to her room. He paused just outside the door, a hand poised to knock, and for a moment he was determined that when she opened that door he would sweep her off her feet and personally make certain that she would never be unhappy again.

He stretched out his awareness but did not intrude until he could again sense the emerald flare that was her mind to find it once again calm. Its energy swirled and drifted around in currents, and the sweet deliciousness of apples invaded his sense of taste. He stretched out a bit further to discover the source of her comfort that most definitely not him.

She was praying.

Suddenly, sensing the gravity and intimacy of the moment (though he didn't follow her beliefs himself), he wheeled and turned back down the hallway, speeding toward his own room to leave her in peace.

OxOxO

It had come to her so suddenly that she startled herself with its swiftness. The idea had descended from absolutely nowhere. Well, not really nowhere, just somewhere she couldn't see. She wondered why she hadn't thought of it in the first place. Probably because for about thirty minutes, she'd been certifiably insane. Yep, that would do it alright.

She took a deep, steadying breath and moved to kneel at the bedside, her hands clasped before her and her head bowed.

"Father, forgive me," she began with a voice that shook. "I know You gave me my incredible gifts for a reason, and I trust that reason as I trust You. You have a plan for me, Father, and I will do my best to follow it, to listen to Your Spirit when it speaks to me and to live by Your commandments. I have made a grave mistake. I know this by the burden on my heart at the memory. My animal instincts are still difficult to control, but I will not slip so completely again. You teach us that intimacy is meant for marriage and the creation of children, and I have misused that privilege. I won't make excuses for myself because I know that my mistake disappoints You, but I also know that You love me unconditionally and have forgiveness ready at hand if only I ask for it. So I am asking you now, forgive me, Father, and remove the burden of guilt from my soul. In Jesus's name, Amen."

Finishing the prayer, she sat back and breathed deeply, letting the nearness of the Lord comfort her. It was as if a warm hand had dropped gently onto her shoulder and soothed away her pain, self-loathing and guilt. He knew that she genuinely regretted what she'd done and He knew that her plea for forgiveness was heartfelt, and He loved her and that knowledge alone was enough to lift her spirits higher than they'd been in some time.

What had happened with Erik had been a mistake. A horrible, awkward, painful mistake that she would not be making again any time soon. She remembered little from the experience, but she remembered enough to know that he had not been gentle or loving. He'd taken what he wanted with a harsh, bestial fervor that rivaled her own. She didn't love him. She had desired him and she had given in, using the most beautiful and intimate of acts as casual entertainment. She'd also given away something that was both infinitely precious and unique. Something she could never give away again. With it went a piece of her heart. A piece that now resided in a man she neither loved nor was fond of. That, she thought, was the worst of it. She'd been hoping to one day give herself to Charles, but that hope was far-fetched and unrealistic. So, she'd told herself that she would give it to the man who loved her when he came along, whoever that may be. Now she would never be able to. Her virtue had slipped her grasp like a fragile butterfly, never to be recaptured.

The thought sent a sinking feeling into the pit of her stomach, but she swallowed her self-pity and vowed to move on with her life. God had forgiven her and so she must forgive herself.

She might have sat there for hours just lost in thought, but her eyes began to droop soon and her body nearly screamed, Sleep girl, I'm tired! She was only too happy to oblige, sinking into the surprisingly soft bed with a contented sigh. She burrowed herself deep into the covers and buried her face in the pillow, already beginning to drift…

…into a soft, fluffy cloud…

…that was…just…so….

Ellie?

The cool voice in her head shattered her visions of sleep and fluffy clouds as her eyes popped open in surprise.

Did I wake you? the voice asked.

Trying to keep the grumbling to a minimum, she replied, No, but a few more seconds and you would have. What is it, Charles?

Oh, I'm terribly sorry, my dear. Please, go back to sleep. I didn't mean to bother you. Hmmm…Charles was being awfully strange. She sensed that he really didn't want to let her go back to sleep at all, yet he acted as if he'd done some great harm and should bow out as sweetly as possible. After the way they'd parted earlier she wasn't surprised that he was doing his best not to step on her toes.

Too late for that. I'm wide awake now. What do you need, Charles?

This may come across as a bit of an odd request, and it is, but still I wondered if you could, I mean—would it be at all possible for you to—it's just that…ah. I'm not explaining myself very well, am I? he projected to her, hesitant and almost fearful.

Nope. I haven't got the slightest clue what you're talking about. Why don't you try again? This time, just tell me what you need, she sent back to him, her mind voice laden with silent laughter.

Alright then, I suppose I could give it a shot. She sensed the smile in his voice, but nothing could have prepared her for what he said next. I need you to come to me and spend the night like we used to.

Excuse me? she exclaimed, probably just a little too abruptly, but the statement startled her. They hadn't done that in months. He used to call to her late at night to come and read with him or play a game of chess or simply chat for a while about the state of things, and she usually ended up sleeping next to him (which did nothing to alleviate her affections, by the way). But they hadn't done that in a while.

I understand if you find the idea unpleasant. It's just that I find myself in sudden need of your company, he said, disappointment oozing from every syllable. Again, I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you at this late hour. She felt him slipping away again, back to his own head dejectedly.

Wait! she shouted in her mind.

Yes? Was that hope she felt there?

I'll come. You just startled me, that's all.

He said nothing, but she got the fading impression of a relieved smile. Smiling herself, she shouldered her small bag and left the room. It took her a moment to find Charles's room and she entered without knocking. He knew she was there and if he hadn't wanted her in, he wouldn't have called. He was sitting cross-legged on the (considerably larger than her own) bed with his glasses perched on the end of his nose and some research paper in his hand.

His face split into a smile when he saw her shut the door and move to perch on the opposite end of the bed. She took out her own glasses and slid them onto her face with a comical expression.

"How about we read something a bit more interesting for a while. You can continue that when I'm fast asleep," she said, already digging in her bag for her latest obssession.

"Certainly, but first I want to ask you something," he replied softly. She froze. She knew he was going to ask eventually, but she'd hoped that she'd have more time to formulate an appropriate answer.

"Go ahead," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. She would answer truthfully and as fully as she dared. She had no fear of his questions or judgment.

"How did you manage to come back to yourself so quickly?" he asked, leaning forward as if to absorb her words through his mind. "You were past the point of madness when I passed your room, yet here you are as serene and clear as I have ever seen you. How did you do it?"

"God and I have come to an understanding," she said simply.

"I see." He didn't really see at all, but then again, he'd never really gotten religion like she did. Her face gave no room for further discussion. So instead he asked another question.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Ah, Charles," she said, giving him a coy smile and gazing up at him through her lashes as she moved closer. Before he had time to think her lips were pressed to his ear, her body so close that he could feel her unnatural heat. "If I told you that," she whispered, her breath ghosting over the delicate skin of his ears in such a way that he had to fight hard to suppress a shudder. "I'd have to kill you."

And she was gone, leaving Charles with the lingering sensation of her body pressed against his, her inhuman body temperature radiating into his very core, the absence of which left him reeling.

Ellie would have smiled had she believed that his reaction was anything other than utter shock and revulsion at her sudden proximity. However, she knew Charles much better than that and instead took out her book and began flipping pages. By the time Charles snapped out of his odd trance, she'd found her page and was waiting patiently for him to rejoin the land of the conscious. He blinked rapidly a few times and then sort of stared at her as if he's just seen her for the first time.

She already had her nose back in the book and was reading softly to herself, lounging back against the bedframe, perfectly at ease. If he was quite silent, he could just make out the words she was muttering.

"'Because', he said, 'I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you—especially when you are near me as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you,-you'd forget me.'" The sweet melody of her voice was hypnotic and he felt himself beginning to get lost in it.

With the ease and comfort of an old friend who'd done so many times before, he leaned forward and gently took hold of her arm, drawing her closer as she read until she was snuggled firmly against his side. He nearly missed the almost imperceptible stiffening of her body and the falter of her voice, but before he could even think about it she'd relaxed and rolled on as if nothing had happened. Curious, he reached out, wanting—no, needing—to know what had distressed her. Was it him? Was she not comfortable being this close anymore? As lightly as he could, he brushed the surface of her mind and tried to minimize his presence.

Swiftly she cringed away from his touch and firmly shut him out with a wall as solid as concrete. Damn, she was so attuned to his mental signature that there was no way for him to get in without her knowing. What was in there that she didn't want him to see? She'd been oddly secretive lately and he was dying to know why. Ah well, he would get it out of her one way or another eventually.

Putting her reaction away for later consideration, he wrapped an arm around her waist, settle back against the pillows and turned his attention to the feel of her skin against his and the musical way in which she read.

'"I tell you I must go!" I retorted, roused to something like passion. "Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton?-a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong!-I have as much soul as you,-and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh;-it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal,-as we are!"

"As we are!" repeated Mr. Rochester-"so," he added, enclosing me in his arms. Gathering me to his breast, pressing his lips on my lips: "so, Jane!"

"Yes, so, sir," I rejoined: "and yet not so; for you are a married man-or as good as a married man, and wed to one inferior to you-to one with whom you have no sympathy-whom I do not believe you truly love; for I have seen and heard you sneer at her. I would scorn such a union: therefore I am better than you-let me go!"

"Where, Jane? To Ireland?"

"Yes-to Ireland. I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere now."

"Jane, be still; don't struggle so, like a wild frantic bird that is rending its own plumage in its desperation."

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you."

Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him.

"And your will shall decide your destiny," he said: "I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions."

"You play a farce, which I merely laugh at."'

Charles felt the emotion radiate from her voice, as if Ellie were Jane speaking to the man she loved. But if Ellie were Jane, who then was her Rochester?

'"Do you doubt me, Jane?"

"Entirely."

"You have no faith in me?"

"Not a whit."

"Am I a liar in your eyes?" he asked passionately. "Little sceptic, you SHALL be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that you know. What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains to prove: I caused a rumour to reach her that my fortune was not a third of what was supposed, and after that I presented myself to see the result; it was coldness both from her and her mother. I would not-I could not-marry Miss Ingram. You- you strange, you almost unearthly thing!-I love as my own flesh. You-poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are-I entreat to accept me as a husband."

"What, me!" I ejaculated, beginning in his earnestness-and especially in his incivility-to credit his sincerity: "me who have not a friend in the world but you- if you are my friend: not a shilling but what you have given me?"

"You, Jane, I must have you for my own-entirely my own. Will you be mine? Say yes, quickly."

"Mr. Rochester, let me look at your face: turn to the moonlight."

"Why?"

"Because I want to read your countenance-turn!"

"There! you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled, scratched page. Read on: only make haste, for I suffer."

His face was very much agitated and very much flushed, and there were strong workings in the features, and strange gleams in the eyes

"Oh, Jane, you torture me!" he exclaimed. "With that searching and yet faithful and generous look, you torture me!"

"How can I do that? If you are true, and your offer real, my only feelings to you must be gratitude and devotion-they cannot torture."

"Gratitude!" he ejaculated; and added wildly-"Jane accept me quickly. Say, Edward-give me my name-Edward-I will marry you."

"Are you in earnest? Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wish me to be your wife?"

"I do; and if an oath is necessary to satisfy you, I swear it."

"Then, sir, I will marry you."

"Edward-my little wife!"

"Dear Edward!"

"Come to me-come to me entirely now…'

Now, I did not use that large excerpt just because 'I'm lazy and didn't feel like writing', I put it in because I started reading that book and the love was just to intimate, so passionate that I absolutely loved it and thought it would be neat if Ellie loved it as much as I do. So, kudos if you can guess the name even though I sort of gave it away already.

Anyhow, as usual, forgive my timing (I just joined a fraternity-not a sorority) and reviews are love. I live on love.