So I rewatched X-Men: First Class the other day and 1) Darwin dying was bullshit and 2) Darwin and Alex were so gay. I needed to write at least a little thing for how it should have gone.

He'd already been expecting to have to adapt to Alex's energy blast. He'd covered Angel, was ready to be the armor she needed. The attack was destructive, to be sure; he'd seen it in action. But that was his thing, his mutation, his gift. He adapted to survive. He would survive it.

He hadn't expected Shaw's mutation, the ability to absorb energy, to render Alex's attack harmless. No, worse than harmless, as he repurposed it, concentrated it to use as a weapon against Darwin. Out of the corner of the eye, Darwin could see the horror in Alex's eyes.

Shaw forced the energy down Darwin's throat, and, confident in its power, teleported away before any of the others could retaliate.

The energy wasn't hot. That would imply that it left him able to feel anything but pain. Pain as the energy tore at his cells, ripping them apart as fast as his body could replace them. Pain as his body shifted, changed, flashing forms as it struggled to find a way to contain the energy, to survive it.

Cells to replace the ones destroyed. Not fast enough, flaking away. Rock to survive the attack. Crumbling. Metal, shifting and melting, flowing to replace whatever the energy destroyed.

The last one stuck, and Darwin finally breathed. The adaptation didn't neutralize the energy, but it contained it, let him live with it inside him, and that was enough.

He sank to his knees, his body feeling a lot heavier than usual (made enough sense, metal was heavy after all), trying to get the sensation of Alex's energy eating him alive out of his mind. He could still feel it, faintly, deep inside him, the same as he could faintly feel his insides shifting around to keep it contained and keep him whole around it.

And then he could feel a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling at him with too much force, and he didn't even have to look to know it was Alex. He was sobbing softly into Darwin's shoulder, trying to hide it from the others, even as the tears slid smoothly off the slick metal of Darwin's newly adapted form.

"I'm so fucking sorry, man," Alex choked out, his voice soft and heavy with tears. Darwin wrapped an arm around him, hoping to comfort him, but it seemed the unfamiliar density of Darwin's new metal form just set him off again.

"Hey, Alex, listen to me," he said, softly so only Alex could hear. "I'm still here. I'm still alive. It wasn't your fault, we didn't know, it was my idea – and anyway, I'm still here, aren't I?"

Alex pulled back, and Darwin let his arm drop off the other man's back. There was a soft, mournful smile on Alex's face.

"You're right," Alex said. "You're still here. God, I'm so happy you're alive."

And then, before Darwin could say anything, Alex had pulled him into a desperate kiss.

Things were different at Charles's mansion.

There were no government agents around, except Moira, who wasn't nearly as offensive as the others had been. She knew them, wasn't afraid of them for their gifts (and didn't gawk at them like freaks for using those gifts, either).

After all they'd been through, no one there batted an eye at his and Alex's relationship, even if no one really knew what exactly that relationship was (including him and Alex). They'd been close ever since they'd met, had wanted to be close, to spend time with each other, but ever since Darwin had nearly died, you practically had to pry Alex off him with a crowbar if you wanted the two in separate rooms. Any barriers that had remained between them were gone.

They kissed. They talked. They went places together. And at night, Alex would sneak into Darwin's room to curl up against his chilly metal skin, making the bed warm enough for the both of them.

Darwin's newest adaptation, in fact, was raising more eyes than him and Alex kissing. He'd never had an adaptation last so long, but he'd never needed it to. He could still do new adaptations – he and Charles had tested it. Whatever he adapted faded away like usual, except the metal.

At night, when he wasn't distracted by the training and other activities of the day, he could still feel Alex's energy inside him, lashing out and trying to destroy him from the inside out. It had barely weakened since Shaw had forced it down his throat, and he didn't know if it ever would. Maybe it would be there forever, and he would need his metal adaptation forever too.

Alex turned over in bed, his hair brushing Darwin's shoulder, and his muscles were tense with a bad dream. Darwin wrapped an arm around Alex's shoulders, watching his face relax, and decided that whatever it took for him to be here right now was more than worth it.