10 Years Old

The funeral was a blur. Charles was stood next to his Mother, tears running down his cheeks as emotions that weren't all his own ran over him. When the policeman had come to tell them of his Fathers' accident at the lab, Charles had started hearing the voices. At first it was just picking up the emotions of those around him but now, over a week later Charles was hearing the voices.

People were thinking it was such a shame. There were a few who were only there for appearance sakes and Charles could hear that. He wanted to tell them they shouldn't be here but he knew that would be bad. His Mother's mind was in distress and Charles didn't want to leave her like that.

When the funeral was over, Charles ended up in a funeral wake with people coming over to say their apologises. He could count on one hand how many people meant it. Charles said this to his Mother, who told him to behave but Charles could hear the fear in her mind. Thinking the voices were being caused by his Fathers' death, Charles resolved to keep it hidden.

After the funeral, the valet drove them back to the mansion. Charles' Father had always taken him exploring around the sprawling grounds but looking at them now made Charles' heart feel heavy. It didn't help that his mother's mind was giving off a confusing buzz that made Charles feel dizzy.

That night he woke up to feeling his Mother vomiting in her bathroom. He walked in, a little hesitantly. She smiled at him as he cleaned her up and put her in bed. His 10 year old self wanted to crawl in beside her, missing his Father but Charles knew his Mother wouldn't appreciate it so he resigned himself to going back to his own room. Charles didn't think he slept all night.

13 Years Old

Things had improved only slightly since his Father died. His mother still seemed to drink herself into a stupor every night but Charles got used to cleaning her up. Charles was smart for his age, so wasn't in his age class in school. This caused problems in school but he'd learnt a few tricks with persuading the bullies to walk away. The telepathy seemed to have advanced over the years but he was still careful to keep it hidden, especially after reading the papers on what was happening to the mutants. Sometimes he slipped up but that was alright, he'd learnt he could make people forget hearing that or persuade them into thinking they'd said it out loud instead.

His Mother met Dr Mark Warren that year and within 6 months they were married. It was a strange sensation for Charles, having to get used to a new type of person. He'd thought his new step-brother, Marks son Christopher, would be a good friend. Charles had been wrong. Christopher thought Charles made him look stupid, him being older than Charles, so he tended to pick on him. Charles had gone to his Mother then but she ignored him.

Mark was nearly as bad as well. Charles had read his mind and saw the man didn't love his Mother, saw her as a impressionable rich widow really. The young telepath had tried to tell his Mother this but she ignored him but he did see her drinking had increased.

Sometimes Charles made his mother stop drinking with the telepathy but that made her sick. Withdrawal, Charles had read it somewhere before. This stopped Charles from doing this too often but it didn't stop the thoughts of making his Mother stop completely. He'd debated on using his mutation to make his step-family leave but the way Mark sometimes looked at Charles made him stop. He knew the man hated mutants and Charles didn't want to know what mark might do if he ever found out about Charles' gift.

15 years old

Charles was sick of his step-brothers' taunts so the next time Christopher called him a name he pushed him. It was stupid, really, Christopher being stronger than him. The older boy had pushed him back and Charles had tripped over a chair, landing on the window ledge up on one of the higher levels of the mansion.

The thoughts that ran through Christopher's mind then made Charles feel sick. He tried to stop Christopher thinking them but the fear seemed to freeze his gift momentarily as before he knew it, Christopher had shoved him backwards straight through the glass window. The glass shattered and Charles tried to grab onto anything but he couldn't. Hitting the ground, Charles didn't think he'd felt so much agony in his life as he lay there on his back, looking up at the sight of his step-brother's faint figure looking down at him.

When Charles woke up a week later in the hospital, he was bombarded with minds and it was the first time since his Fathers' death that he called out for the man. Instead he got a Doctor, who told him he would never walk again. No one visited and when he finally returned to the mansion, nearly a month later, his mother pretended nothing had happened. The police had ruled it as an accident and Charles had been in too much pain from his back to argue.

Getting used to the chair had been ahrd, having to move everything downstairs until elevators were fitted into the mansion. What he saw as worse, however, was that Christopher continued to leer at him and that Charles' could clearly see in the minds of both his step-father and mother that they knew what had happened. That hurt, them knowing but doing nothing.

16 years old

At 16, Charles had already graduated high school and college and was packing up to go to Oxford. His mother said nothing, having fallen more and more distant ever since the accident. Charles had grown accustomed to the wheelchair but not the stairs that had accompanied them. When he told his family that he would be studying genetics they had thought it was because he was looking for a cure so he could walk again, but it wasn't that.

Charles had been experimenting on his mutation for 6 years now and thought he was getting good at it, shielding the thoughts of people from himself easily now among other things. Now he wanted to understand the science of it, how he got the mutation and what possibilities it might bring.

21 Years old

He spent 6 years in Oxford, finally coming home with a PhD and as a professor. Charles decided he wanted to open a school for mutants, having learnt a lot during his time in Oxford about his own mutation and he wanted to put that knowledge too good use, helping others.

What he didn't take into account, was coming home to find his Mother on the ground with Mark kicking her. He hadn't even thought about it, freezing the bigger man with his mind as he went to his Mother. She screamed at him and Charles startled, flinching with hurt at the thoughts running through her head. His Mother thought he was a monster because he had frozen his step-father in place.

Charles tried to calm her, using his mind but it scared her more. He'd lost control of Mark then, his own emotions coupled with his Mothers causing his concentration to slip. The older man hit him on the head and he lost consciousness.

When he finally came around, it was too a hospital environment and he could hear the thoughts of Doctors all around him, all thinking the same thing of him being a freak. Mark appeared above him. "You killed her. You snapped her neck and you killed her." Charles hadn't believed him but when he looked into the mans' mind he saw the truth. His Mother had died from a heart attack. A heart attack that had been caused because of him. Marks' belief in this rubbed off on Charles as the older man thought this.

Tear came unbid at Charles' eyes and with his own emotions in turmoil, he started projected those thoughts on those around him. His own thoughts fell in tune with the Doctors until something was clicked around his neck and everything went blank around him. He couldn't feel their minds and it scared him. Scared him almost as much as the thought that he had caused his own Mothers' death.

Present day (aged 24)

"I spent 3 years there, they did a lot of tests but… it was necessary. My mutation is dangerous Erik, that's why I have to wear this. I killed her. My Mother." Erik was sat dumbfounded on the chair and Charles assumed that the other man was silent because he was disgusted at what he had heard. Unbidden a tear had escaped from the corner of Charles' eyes and when Erik wiped it away with the back of his head, Charles started.

His own blue eyes met Erik's grey steely ones and Charles was probably one of the only people not too flinch away from their steely, angry depths. "You did not kill your Mother." Charles went to interrupt but Erik shook his head. "It was not your fault. You Mother was a sick woman and you did not cause your Mother's death."

"I…" Charles didn't know quite what to say. "She wouldn't have had a heart attack if I hadn't shown her my mutation." Erik shook his head, sadness in his eyes.

"Charles, your mutation did not kill her. What that man told you was wrong. What they did to you that was wrong to. You understand that, don't you?" Charles didn't answer. He could see the logic in Erik's voice but he'd spent so long believing he was the cause of his Mothers' death that he couldn't see any other reason for her death. "You said you had control of your telepathy."

"I did but now…" Charles trailed off because he knew he wouldn't have control over it anymore.

"What if you could learn to control it." Charles didn't answer straight away.

"If you take it off Mark will know and he'll come looking for me."

"Hank can work around that."

"I don' want to cause any trouble for you and what if I can't control it." Erik considered this for a moment before answering.

"We'll work on it. Do you trust me Charles?"

"Of course my friend." It was strange, Charles having not trusted anyone in so long but he did trust Erik.

"Then if you trust me and you want it, we can get that collar off of you." Erik sounded so sincere and Charles knew the older mutant was telling the truth.

"Okay." It felt strange, the idea of taking it off, getting his power back after so long but Charles did want it back. "Okay, you can take it off."

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