Disclaimer: Erik, Charles, Raven, and all other XMFC characters aren't mine. Come to think of it, that's probably a good thing.

A/N: I had this idea and couldn't decide if it should be Erik, Charles, or Raven's funeral. And no I'm not morbid at all what are you talking about. Anyway, it ended up Charles. And I must say, it turned out very, very well. I'm quite proud of it. Please enjoy.

Erik had never known that Charles was so popular. The crumbling stone church was bulging at the seams with people; the majority of them were students, he gathered, come to bid their favorite professor farewell. Across the room he caught sight of Banshee's flaming red hair, and a closer inspection confirmed that Havok and Moira were with him. Even from a distance, Erik could see that Moira's eyes were swollen and red. Beast was nowhere to be seen. They had apparently already been through the line. Already seen him. Already said goodbye.

Raven sidled up to him and touched his arm. For the sake of the other attendees, she had hidden her blue skin and crimson hair behind rosy cheeks and blonde curls. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her. Her entire body was stiff. She furrowed her brow at the expansive line before them. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. "Can't they move faster? I want to go…." Erik wasn't a touchy-feely person, but the tremor in her voice inspired him to take her small hand in his.

A short, spherical woman in a black veil squeezed through the line toward them. "Raven," she said in a warm voice, "you know you can move up front, dear. You're his sister, after all…family first." She smiled sadly.

Raven mumbled a thank you and pushed through the crowd, pulling Erik with her before he could protest.

"I'm not family," he hissed, almost frantically. His pleas fell on deaf ears. In fact, she sped up. "I'm not…I don't want to…." He trailed off at the sight of the big mahogany casket looming in front of them. His heart sank, because up to now, he had been sure that this was all some fantastic prank. This was all some elaborate setup. This wasn't real.

But as they inched toward the coffin, and Erik peered down with his breath held, he felt something catch in his chest and it dawned on him that Charles Xavier was nothing more than mortal.

Despite the best efforts of the embalmers, his skin was pale and chalky. His lips were set in a thin, pink line. His hands were clasped over his stomach and the angles of his arms were sharp. He wasn't sleeping. He wasn't peaceful. He was dead.

Erik gripped the rim of the casket like a lifeline. He was aware of his heart pounding too hard, his breath rattling too loud. The world around Charles' face blurred. He heard a sob escape from Raven. "Charles…" he heard her gasp. "Oh, Charles…."

Oh, Charles. Erik's lips soundlessly formed that name.

He thought back to the night when he had been so close, so excruciatingly close to his revenge. He remembered the cold, black water and the burning in his lungs, and the desperation and the anger and the calm, even voice in his head. You can't. You'll drown.

But he could. He knew he could. He had to.

You have to let go.

He couldn't let go.

I know what this means to you, but you're going to die.

No. No, he wasn't going to die. Charles would see to that. But who would see to Charles?

Erik was a proud man. His pride had been stripped from him once, and never again. He had refused to listen to Charles' constant admonitions because Charles may have seen through Erik's eyes, but he had never stood in Erik's shoes. No matter how much he insisted he knew, Erik was certain he himself knew more. But he saw now that Charles had been right on one account: killing Shaw did not bring Erik peace. It brought him to a funeral.

"Charles…" he breathed, because he had to say something, if only for his own sake. "…I…I'm sorry. I never…I never meant…it was an accident. It was just…an accident…." His voice was soft and shaky. Erik bowed his head, disappointed with his simple words, full of guilt for his own shortcomings. He felt weak. He felt sick. He opened his damp eyes and took one last look at that face. "I'm sorry…Charles…I'm sorry." He released his grip on the casket and stepped reluctantly back.

He watched Raven, with tears slipping down her cheeks, take her brother's cold hand and press it to her lips. He wondered if she blamed him as much as he blamed himself and resolved never to ask her. Gently she set his hand back down and whispered something in parting. Then she turned to Erik with such pain in her doe eyes that it made him flinch. He searched in vain for something to say.

She walked to him with her gaze on the ground. "Let's go home," Raven said quietly. Erik nodded. She tugged his hand from his pocket and took it again, and they weaved back through the crowd and outside.

Charles had said something else the night he saved Erik's life. At the time, the words had held such hope. Now they triggered nothing but shame.

You're not alone. Erik, you're not alone.

But he was. Erik was alone, inadequate, and responsible for the death of his best friend.

He gripped Raven's hand and cried.

Voila. Review and I'll let you comfort Mr. Lehnsherr. How's that for an offer you can't refuse?

FYI, title comes from the song Corner of Your Heart by Ingrid Michaelson. I saw it on some dA fanmix and thought it was appropriate.