Title: Crossing minds
Author: Anae
Beta: Quotiety (Love you, dear.)
Fandom: X-Men First Class (movie). Takes place around mutant-recruiting.
Characters/pairing: Erik, Charles. The pairing is there also, but it's hidden under the covers, I'd say.
Rating: R
Spoilers: None, really.
Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. Marvel owns the boys, I own the story. And the lyrics in the end? They're Arttu Wiskari - Tuntematon sotilas. Translation is provided there, also.
Summary: Telepathy. It allows you to read minds, but there's also other side of the coin - it's not always fun or easy. Sometimes, it crosses borders of minds - crosses the edge of sanity.
A/N (Anae): I've never thought telepathy as an easy mutation to bear. I find it interesting, great, yet I don't believe it's all sunshine. There is another side of the coin - it's your own head you hear the others, hear them through your own thoughts. How can that feel like a bliss? I don't think it can, not all the time.
If you choose to read this one piece of fiction through, you'll see what I mean.
Hope you'll enjoy.
Ps. Comments make my days.

This is no place for a mutant, Erik found himself thinking as he leaned on the light grey corridor wall. He sidestepped as a patient tried to reach for him, the poor elderly man getting a frown and a lecture from a tired nurse.

Grey-blue eyes followed the pair to the so-called living room. It was the space where patients spent their time unless they were in their personal quarters; it was the only place for socializing.

Somewhere deep, deep within his heart, Erik didn't only pity these people, but also felt sorry for them. Most of them were deeply traumatized by the war, some by their relatives, some were born the way they were - crazy, unable to live a life in the crowds. Some had their obsessions with whatever; to some, everything needed to be clean. It had all started with just washing hands, again and again and again, until it was impossible for them to go out in their fear of dirt. And some couldn't bear the touch of people after what been done to them.

And the nurses. There was no hint of care in their actions - they just did what they needed to, they simply wanted their paychecks. They weren't hostile towards the patients, because that would've gotten them fired, but they didn't truly care about these people.

They merely followed their orders.

Somehow, it all reminded Erik of the sick obsessions of the Nazis, of the way they had treated people. It reminded him of the experiments he'd been forced through, making his throat tighten and his stomach loosen.

Then, suddenly, instead of throwing up and showing his past meals to everyone, he felt a gentle, caring brush in his mind. There were no words, no physical contact, but it felt like a pair of warm, loving hands embracing him.

Erik lifted his gaze from the floor - when had he stopped looking at the patients? - to look at the room in front of him, where Charles was talking to the head nurse. Those blue eyes only glanced at him, but worry had settled in them. The fingers of the younger mutant, the telepath, moved to his temple.

Are you alright?

Fine. Erik grunted back mentally, shooing Charles to focus on the matter at hand. The sooner they'd meet the mutant here, the sooner they could get out of this asylum.

It didn't take more than a couple of minutes before Charles exited the room on the nurse's trail, Erik following them through the sickeningly white corridors. He did notice Charles' hand slipping into his somewhere along the way, but for once he didn't mind the affectionate gesture.

Not at all.

So, Erik broke the silence, sending his thoughts to Charles. You know who the mutant is?

There was a brief pause, even the slightest halt in movement before the telepath answered.

Yes. Another moment of silence, enough to make Erik frown. Charles was always so happy, so eager to meet other mutants and hear about their unique gifts, but this…

Maybe it had something to do with the atmosphere. Erik still recalled the shock on Charles face - on all their faces - when they checked the co-ordinates with Hank and found that a mutant was not in a hospital like Charles had thought, but in an asylum.

There was no way Erik could forget the look in those blue eyes as Charles gazed at him, a small amount of fear spiking in them. But oh , he also remembered that determination.

"I want to meet her." He had simply said.

And that was a reason good enough for Erik.

Charles' mental voice pulled Erik back to the present, his blue eyes bigger than usual as he glanced over his shoulder at the older mutant, fingers brushing the temple.

The nurse said that she has a fragile mind, that she thinks she can hear people's thoughts. If Charles' hand hadn't been on Erik's, he would've stopped in his tracks right there. Realization hit him, telling him instantly what this mutant's gift was. Of course. She's a telepath.

Before Erik had time to ask, to protest, to even think more than that, the nurse opened a door, casually stepping into the room that was supposed to be someone's private living area.

"Catherine, you have visitors."

A woman, near her thirties, was sitting in a chair, her hands wrapped around her legs that were pulled up to her chest. Her blue eyes were dilated, staring at the visitors, her shoulder-length blonde hair sagging down.

There was nothing in Catherine that wasn't speaking of fear.

The nurse just gave a smile.

"I'll leave you to it." Then she was gone and Erik had to wonder if Charles had played with her mind a little, to get the privacy they needed. Not that he saw it as a bad thing - it was just rare to see Charles actually using his powers for something else than mind-reading.

Well. Now they were alone with a mutant that was scared to death of them.

Erik eyed Charles, who simply looked at Catherine, probably mentally talking to her. But since Erik's gift didn't give him any way to be sure, he chose to speak out loud to make himself known.

"We're not here to hurt you." Erik said, carefully taking a step forward, trying to soothe the fear that was almost touchable.

Her blue eyes moved to him, but in seconds, they were back on Charles.

"He's right." Charles continued, taking a slow step towards the woman as well. "We're not going to-"

Within seconds, she was on her feet, throwing the nearest thing she could reach - a lamp - towards Charles.

But being the mind-reader he was, Charles dodged it - barely though - and the lamp crashed into the wall, startling the nurse on duty.

"What's happening?" She called from the corridor, obviously prepared to come in and throw the visitors out if need be

But again, Charles lifted his fingers to his temple, and they all heard the nurse say: "Just an accident? Alright."

With that, her steps grew quieter until she was gone to take care of the other one thousand and one duties she had been given.

Erik's attention turned to Catherine, who was sitting in the corner of the room, her big blue eyes on them, back of the hands of the wall, trying to get as far from them as she could. She was frightened, scared like never before.

But not of him, Erik realized as he eyed his partner's concerned face.

Catherine was not scared of Erik, like every other mutant had been - their good cop, bad cop attitude had worked wonders. And obviously, Erik had always been the bad cop.

Catherine did not fear Erik. She feared Charles.

Erik wasn't sure what to do, what to think of. He wasn't good at soothing people's fears, let alone someone's who lived in an asylum - that was Charles' strength. But now…

"Do you want me to-" Erik started, but was cut off by Charles' headshake. No, Charles didn't want him to comfort the girl, didn't want him to do anything. And seeing the hurt written on his face, Erik didn't even protest.

"Look." Charles began, his eyes on Catherine. "Like I said, we're not here to hurt you." A pause. "I'm not doing anything you."

There was a mixture of relief, disbelief and fear on the blonde woman's face. She looked so small, so fragile like that – in a white simple dress, her blonde hair falling to her shoulders in a mess, here blue eyes frightened. Somehow, she reminded Erik of Raven, even though Charles' sister was a strong character and knew how to take care of herself physically and mentally.

Yet, if Catherine was truly a telepath, she was far from helpless.

Or should've been, at least. This was the other end of the line; a helpless, scared figure.

So far from the strong, determined individual Erik had come to know.

"I-" Charles stammered, clearly not knowing what to say. Maybe he feared to switch to a mental conversation - should Catherine be any more scared, she could very well die. "We're mutants." Charles waved his hand towards Erik, his gaze following. The smallest smile rested on his lips as he spoke. "He can bend metal."

For the first time, Catherine's whole attention moved to Erik. Just to prove his point, Erik lifted the metal lamp from the floor, letting it float to the table where it had originally been, and bent it slightly.

The woman's eyes widened, and as Charles spoke, her attention snapped back to the telepath.

"And I'm. . . I can read minds. Just like you."

And for the first time, Catherine spoke. Her voice was like waves at a stormy sea, rolling from her tongue, fast and unexpected.

"You're lying. You have to be."

The man shook his head, his eyes and tone serious as he nodded towards the other man.

"Erik there, he wonders if I can handle this." There was an apologizing look on Charles' face as he eyed his friend before his attention moved back to Catherine. "And that nurse on duty, she didn't care what really happened. She just wanted to get it solved, to go and sip coffee for the rest of the 45 minutes she has left, and go home. But the head nurse, she really cares about the patients. She likes you, a lot. To her, you don't seem annoying and weak, and you remind her of her late daughter."

It never ceased to amaze Erik how easily Charles could get these things from people, even if he didn't go deep to violate their memories. And judging by the look Catherine was giving to the telepath, he was right. There was no doubt on her pale face as she opened her mouth just to close it because she simply had no words. Most of the fear on her face was gone, replaced by amazement.

That she wasn't alone.

It was a feeling Erik could recall very clearly - it had been less than month since he had learned about mutants. And later, he had learned what it was not to be alone. What it felt like when someone cared.

A brief smile crept to Charles' lips; he had probably heard that thought. And judging by the way Catherine eyed him and Charles, her lips almost curving upwards, she probably caught that one as well.

Sure, Erik disliked the thought of two telepaths hearing his thoughts - one was bad enough - but if this was the way to convince Catherine that they weren't evil, that Charles wasn't a bad person, then so be it.

Charles took a couple of steps forward and kneeled. Neither of them missed the way the woman flinched. Charles wasn't invading Catherine's personal space, but he was close to her, close enough to build a bridge of trust.

"If you want to come with us, I could teach you how to control it."

Catherine's face lit up a bit, but the light didn't reach her eyes. She was hesitant. She had probably never gone outside, not really, not since her powers had revealed themselves, but she was almost ready to give it a try.

"May I show you?" Charles asked, hesitant as well, fingers rising to his temple, but not doing anything just yet.

"He knows what he's doing." Erik spoke, wanting to drive the last ghosts of suspicion from Catherine's mind. She might've been able to read minds, but hearing thoughts was very different from hearing words. "You won't lose anything if you give it a try."

Catherine nodded.

The biggest surprise was that Catherine brought her fingers to Charles' temple, pulling Charles' hand to hers.

Erik could only watch as the two telepaths closed their eyes, wandering to a world no one else could ever understand. Their fingers were on each other's temples, but slowly the hands dropped to necks, then to shoulders. Their position as a whole, their foreheads resting against one another as if crowning it, could've given the picture of lovers.

But Erik knew that it was much more.

Erik couldn't imagine what it would've felt like to meet another person able to control metal. Would there be jealousy, or would it feel like meeting a long lost friend or a comrade? Family even?

Because, no matter what your gift was, no one else could quite understand it. Charles had already met one telepath - Emma Frost - but that bitch was as cold and uncaring as the diamond she could turn into. But Catherine was different. She was a lost soul, and if Erik's guess was right, she was here because she couldn't control her power.

They could help her, Erik knew that. Charles was confident that he could teach other mutants, so one sharing his gift wouldn't be a problem.

Hands dropped, eyes opened, and the two were back.

Erik couldn't help himself. "Enjoyed the ride?"

Charles gave him a look, but Catherine smiled. Just slightly, but the smile was there, and it was beautiful. She was a pretty woman, all in all - the smile lit her pale features like a sun, giving her a golden, beautiful aura.

"It was amazing." Charles answered, giving a full smile to Catherine who nodded in appreciation.

Together, they had travelled from mind to mind, from thought to thought, going through the feelings of other people, of their own, of one another's. Their minds were combined and yet their thoughts were still their own, and they could both understand how it felt to sense everything people thought, felt, feared, hoped and imagined. How they were all so similar, yet so very different.

It was an experience beyond imagination.

"You really do control it." Catherine said, her voice barely above a whisper, her tone one of awe. Her voice was no longer like a sea of waves in turmoil – the waves were still there, but they were gentle, brushing against the shore. "You can go from mind to another, from thought to thought, and you can close them off."

Charles' smile couldn't have been bigger. "If you'll come with us, I could teach you."

Even after everything she had experienced with him, there was still hesitance in her. She couldn't remember the last time she had walked outside, the last time she had been in a crowd - out there, there were too many people, too many minds. It was chaos.

She heard every single one of them, her reach being so wide. She heard how they cursed at each other, how they hated the nurses, the soldiers, the war, how they hated the earth itself, how they despised themselves, how they planned to kill themselves-

And then there was this feather light touch of her shoulder, a gentle brush in her mind, stopping her from turning inwards any more than she already had.

Erik shook his head as he watched the two. After coming back from the mind-trip, she had pulled her legs up to her chest again and she was shaking, her hands rising to each side of her head as if trying to create a shell between her and the world.

This time, Charles was there for her, but how about the other times she had felt that crushing wave of thoughts drowning her?

"There's never been anyone."

Erik was startled when he heard Catherine answering his thought. Those blue eyes were on him, clearer than before - it seemed that there was more sanity in them.

"I can't block them out." She told him. Erik didn't know if she had been ashamed of her gift before, but now there was absolutely no trace of shame in her voice. "They are there, I hear them all the time and I hear everything even though I don't want to. Their thoughts are screaming in my mind. Sometimes I don't hear my own."

A big lump formed in Erik's throat. Once, he had thought it was an easy thing to be a telepath, but apparently it was all but that. Controlling metal was one thing. Sure, Shaw had forced it on him, but it hadn't been truly necessary, but telepathy… It was a whole different story, apparently.

Erik said nothing. He had no words to offer to this woman, or to Charles who was still not letting go of her. Erik needed to tear his gaze away from the two mutants for a while, and the clock seemed worthy of his attention.

He wished it hadn't.

"It's seven." He said, his tone flat. Grey-blue eyes moved back to the telepaths, and there was an apologizing headshake. Both heard his thoughts, but Erik still preferred words. "We should've left a half an hour ago." Erik paused, looking at Charles whose gaze was on the floor, reluctant to leave. Erik could understand that, but- "We have to go."

Charles closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, the caring look was on Catherine. He pressed their foreheads together for second, brushing a golden lock behind the woman's ear.

With slight effort, Charles rose up, pulling Catherine with him.

"Think about it." Charles offered, unwillingly letting go of her hand, moving back to Erik's side. He was asking Catherine to think about it - to come with them, to learn of her own ability, to never be alone again.

"I will." She promised, blue eyes becoming hazy again. Erik briefly wondered that as they turned to the door.

He didn't think Charles would answer his thought, neither did he think it would send a bang to his chest.

I was shielding her, lowering the volume of the voices.

Erik was about to answer to that – even if he had no idea how - but Catherine's voice pulled his attention back.

"Charles?" Both men turned to face the woman who was standing in the middle of the room, her hands closed into fists, placed over her chest.

"Can you block everyone out? So that there's no one but you?"

A shadow was cast over Charles' face as Catherine spoke. His bright smile was gone in seconds, and there was nothing but darkness, haunted shadows looming in his gaze.

"No. I can't." He answered, taking Erik by surprise. "If it's possible, I don't know how." His eyes were on hers, his voice begging for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry."

Her answer was a simple nod. As she sat back on the chair, pulling her knees to her chest and going back to very same position she had been in when they had first arrived, fading back to the shadow she had been, they left the room, closing the door behind them.

When they got out of the hated building, leaving its sickeningly white walls and more or less insane patients behind, Erik turned to Charles and dared to speak the question burning in his mind.

"You can't block everyone out?"

There was no answer.

"Charles!"

The other mutant shook his head, lifting his serious, somehow suddenly very vulnerable gaze to meet Erik's.

"I can't. Everyone's always there, in the background, even if I'm not listening to their thoughts. Even if I'm blocking everyone out, they're still there. It's-" Charles shook his head, tearing his gaze away in turmoil. It wasn't easy to explain to someone who didn't share your gift - no one else could ever fully understand it. "The bottom line is, I'm never completely alone in my head."

Erik couldn't imagine what that felt like. Sure, Catherine's flat words had burned their wayin to his mind, but he had thought that Charles was, somehow, different from her. Charles controlled his mutation, poor Catherine did not.

Charles had told Erik that he could block people's thoughts out - that was the only reason why Erik sometimes won in chess - so he had thought it was a complete shut-down.

Which apparently wasn't the case.

Blocking others out is much harder than reading thoughts, you know.

Alright, maybe Charles didn't hear everyone's thoughts, but their presences were still there. There was always someone inside your head, lingering there, no matter what you did.

It was something Erik didn't think he could live with.

Charles actually chuckled at the thought. For once, Erik didn't mind that the link - connection, bond, whatever it was between them - was open. Catherine's meeting was finally taking its toll on Charles.

"I had to learn or die." He mumbled, turning to watch the building, his thoughts on Catherine. "The stronger the thought, the easier it pierces through your consciousness." Charles paused again, shaking his head. His voice carried so many emotions as he spoke; worry, caring, it was all there. "Catherine… The way she is-"

Charles' voice faded away, his words stuck in his throat. Blue eyes, something watery lingering on them, met Erik's.

"I couldn't live like that."

Once again, Erik found himself speechless. He had no words to offer even though he could see, almost taste, the telepath's agony.

Catherine's path could've been Charles' own.

The two men made their way to the rental car, Erik settling behind the wheel. The motor hummed as they left the grey building, knowing that they would return tomorrow, both hoping that Catherine would take the one-way ticket out of her personal hell.

They were nearing the town before Erik broke the silence, shedding its silvery web by asking something. He feared the answer, but the curiosity overran that feeling.

"How was it for you? I mean, before you learned to control it."

It was unfair, somehow, to ask these things from Charles now that he was in this state; hurt, haunted by something that couldn't be chased off, his mind still lingering on Catherine. But today, Erik had come as close to understanding telepathy as possible for someone not bearing that gift. Thus, he had a feeling that maybe Charles' path hadn't been so rosy, after all.

There was a broken smile on Charles' lips.

"If you pull the car over, I could show you. It's the easiest way."

Erik did as Charles asked. He was a bit hesitant of the idea of being pulled into someone else's memory, but let it happen, anyway.

The fingers were lifted onto his temple, and he could see.

A young child was sitting in the corner of the room, his knees to his chest, arms protectively wrapped around them.

Two people were in the next room, a woman and a man. They were arguing;, not truly arguing, but venom was dripping from their voices as they spoke to each other, talking about the daily routines. Yet, the child heard so much more.

"So, you went to buy hats again?" Bitch, second time in a week, I bet you're sleeping with him -

"Yes. There were some new ones, very beautiful." So much more worthy of my time than you, old man, hope time finishes you off before me, so I get to inherit all of this and be free to do -

"How's Charles?" You should look after that boy, that child should learn his place, be better at school, he's my only heritage, why oh why -

"The doctor said it's due to his fragile mind, but it'll pass." He's your son for God's sake, what do I care, for you, I was no more than a way to have a son -

In the other room, the boy winced, his small hands wrapping around his head. Go away, go away, why don't you go away, I don't want to hear -

As a servant passed by, overhearing the conversation, her thoughts were so filled with malice towards those who had it so easy, not needing to do a thing for their living. Hatred spiked through the boy's mind like a needle, making him cry out.

Only to be ignored by his parents, but the servant came to him. That what she was here for, anyway.

Not that she cared.

Charles pulled away, leaving Erik to stare at him, eyes wide open. He had never thought -

"Later, my father passed away." Charles told him, eyeing the darkening sky ahead, as well as the town, slowly starting to light up for the evening. "And I learned that my stepfather married her for money. And my stepbrother… He's a different story, entirely." Seeing Erik's face and hearing his thoughts made Charles continue. "It wasn't that bad. Not when I had Raven."

Erik found himself at loss of words, again. It seemed that Charles had always led such a perfect life, but apparently the truth was different. Without a word, Erik started the car, driving towards the motel they were staying at.

Truly, ignorance could be bliss.

The silence knotted its web over them all the way to the motel, and that web wasn't ripped down until they reached their room. It was a small room with one king-sized bed - the motel didn't have any better rooms left - and Erik sat down, pulling Charles next to him.

"I want you to come into my mind." He told the telepath, his tone serious. He wasn't much of a help when it came to a burden of memories - he had a fair share of them, himself - but there was one thing he could do. "I want to show you something."

Hesitantly, Charles agreed. Fingers were once again on his temple as he let himself be pulled into Erik's mind. Deep, deep, behind all the frustration, even fear and rage, there was something Erik wanted to show him.

It was a memory of Erik himself as a kid, with his mother. His mother, who had loved him unconditionally, even for just the short time they had spent together.

To Charles, it was like forcing himself into a place where he didn't belong.

But as Charles tried to pull away, Erik grabbed his arm, meeting the concerned blue gaze with determination and care.

Erik, this is your memory. Yours alone.

I choose to share it with you.

Through the link, Erik let Charles experience his own feelings. Maybe Charles' parents hadn't loved him, maybe they hadn't understood how great and kind of a child they had had, but it didn't mean no one else hadn't.

Erik had known Charles for about a month, and he didn't know what to make of him yet; what to make of the two of them. There was something deeper between them than just regular friendship , they were bound by a bond, but of which kind, Erik wasn't sure yet.

All in all, he did care about Charles.

A lot.

And that was what mattered.

Erik had thought the night had been bad, but the next day was a nightmare.

They reached the asylum by midday, and as they rose from the car, Charles almost fell. He grabbed the car door in time, but as Erik questioned what was wrong, Charles only shook his head, face pale, without giving an answer.

Erik realized why as they stepped into the building, the head nurse practically throwing herself at them. If it weren't for the other nurses, she would've clawed the skin off their faces.

"What did you say to her?" She yelled, furious, angry and sad.

"What-" Erik started, not really understanding what they had done to deserve this attack. The woman cut off his words with her own, fast and furious.

"Catherine died last night! She slit her wrists!" You killed her, you murderers! I should never have left you alone with her, I should've known what kind of people you are, what you would do to a lonely girl -

"You murderers! Our sweet Catherine would've never -" Her voice broke down, tears coming to her eyes and starting to flow freely as she started sobbing, the other nurse taking the woman into her arms, doing her best to soothe her.

Erik was about to take a step forward, to try and explain. But how could he have explained? Anyway, the point was to correct the idea of them feeding suicidal thoughts to Catherine; it was a lie, and he wanted them to know.

A brief touch on Erik's hand was enough to stop him, though.

"Don't." Charles' head was bowed, his gaze on the floor, his adam's apple bobbing. He was swallowing the tears that dared to rise up - as he lifted his gaze, there was nothing there.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, lifting his fingers to his temple, erasing the memory of them from the nurses' minds. They couldn't risk the police coming after them, as unlikely as the idea of truly looking into some nutcase's death was.

In the end, it was Charles who threw up.

"Her greatest wish was to be alone inside her head, even if just for a second. I didn't realize it, but that was what she lived for." He told Erik, his gaze on the ground. The dark clouds were gathering up, giving away their plan to offer a proper weather for grief. Charles lifted his head, looking at Erik with impossibly blue, watery orbs. "I took away her last hope."

Then, Erik realized what Charles was talking about. He remembered the look of utter disappointment on Catherine's face as Charles told her it was impossible to be alone inside your head.

The thing that had kept Catherine somewhat sane and alive, had been hope. And wish, that one day, she wouldn't hear anyone. Even if just for a moment.

When there was no hope, there was no reason to live.

Erik didn't say a word. They had taken away her last hope, that was true, but still. He didn't blame Charles, he couldn't have known - I should've, I'm a telepath - but Charles would always blame himself.

The memory of Catherine's focused blue eyes and smile was too real. As was the moment the two telepaths had shared - understanding beyond words.

Charles knew he could never forget, and that he would never experience it again.

Seeing the way Charles was hurting - the way he was hurting himself - opened a door, hidden deep inside Erik's heart.

Because Erik had no words to give, he gave the only comfort he could; he took Charles into his arms and let him cry as the skies opened, pouring their grey rain upon them. And even after the tears were shed - because there simply was no more to give - there was still the burning guilt that shred a kind heart to pieces, that stepped on the glass of that shattered mirror image, making sure blood poured. And it would bleed. It might stop for a while, only to be torn open again. It would grow to be an old wound, but it would never heal.

But each time, Erik promised to be there to stop the bleeding. There was no way to heal such a wound, but much like tonight, he would hold the broken, bleeding figure and never let go.

Tämä tauti vei järjen, vaikka vastaan taistelin
(This disease took my sanity, no matter how hard I fought)

Vaikka itken, mä uskon,
että vielä me tavataan
(Even if I weep, I believe
that we will meet again)

Kuule mun toive, mä haluan pois
Eikö aikani täynnä jo ois?
Olen jo nähnyt tämän elämän, kaiken sain ja vielä enemmän
(Hear my plea, I want to go
Isn't it my time to leave?
I have seen this life before, I got everything and more.)

Kuule mun toive, mä haluan pois
Eikö aikani täynnä jo ois?
(Hear my plea, I want to go
Isn't it my time to leave?)

Terveisin, tuntematon potilas
(Yours truly, the unknown patient)