Damn it. I told myself I wouldn't let WithLoveFromTorchwood push me into writing sequels for her. But did I listen to me? No, damn it.

Main pairings; Cherik, Havshee, Haven. Minor Shaw/Frost, Azazel/Riptide and maybe some other junk :D

Charles stormed into his kitchen and up the stairs, trying hard not to let the tears fall down his cheeks before he could reach his room. The nerve! The bastard! How could he?

Finally reaching his place of solitude; Charles let his bag fall on top off the layers of research papers, old homework, and heavy books. Collapsing on his bed, a small sob escaped his throat, and before he knew what was happening, his body shook with sobs.

Charles Xavier was many things, but today, strong was not one of them.

The music played softly on the radio as Charles opened his genetics textbook. "Thanks for helping me study," Charles said, flashing a brilliant smile at his boyfriend of four weeks.

"For you, my lab rat, anything," Erik said, sitting next to him on the bed. The next hour consisted of lot's of formulas, variables and numerous things. Charles seemed quite pleased with his knowledge, and began encouraging Erik to give him more complex questions.

"Come on, Erik," Charles complained, "You're not trying!" Erik stretched his legs out and responded,

"It's hardly my fault love, you're just so..." Erik let his eyes pass over the Brit's features. "Distracting," he said decidedly. Charles blushed and his lips quirked into a smile.

"Let's see what you have in mind, Mr. Lehnsherr," he said as Erik's face grew closer to his own. Charles scooted backwards leaning against the headboard as Erik straddled him. Erik put a hand under Charles' chin, guiding their lips together. "Hmm..." Charles mused, "Sounds good to me."

Wrapping and arm around Erik and threading his hand through Erik's hair, the books were left forgotten on the bed. Letting go of Erik's hair to push himself up straighter, Charles frowned and pulled away as he felt something underneath the covers. Erik frowned too, but only because of the loss of contact.

"What's this?" Charles said holding something red in his hands.

"What's what?" Erik said, unsure what Charles was holding.

"Erik," Charles said in a low, quiet tone, "Are you cheating on me?" Erik frowned at the accusation, and seemingly realized what Charles was holding... Lacy red underwear.

"No," Erik said, "I wouldn't- I don't know how-" Charles shoved Erik off rather angrily.

"I can't believe you- you-" It was supposed to be threatning, but Charles' voice cracked and instead he just looked heart broken. He began stuffing his things in his bag as fast as he could. Oh he knew it, it was too good to be true. Erik Lehnsherr, the man Charles had been pining for since sixth grade, the school quarterback, no, Charles should have known something was off. Now that he thought about it, he realized Erik had been more secretive lately, and more hesitant when they talked.

"But Charles, I didn't-"

"Don't," the younger man snarled. "Just don't." And with those words, he swept out of the room, leaving a frozen Erik Lehnsherr.

"Come on, Charles," Alex said as Raven pounded on the door. "You have to talk to someone."

"No, I don't," he replied, the grief evident in his voice.

"We all knew you two wouldn't last anyway," Sean said.

"SEAN!" Raven and Alex shouted unsion, as Alex hit Sean.

"OW!" Sean screeched.

"What he means," Raven said, "Is that you're too good for Lehnsherr anyway, He wouldn't know perfection if it ran him over in it's car."

"I very much doubt perfection owns a car," Charles mumbled.

"No, but you do," Hank said in attempt to sound comforting, and failing. Hank did not comfort. Hank did math. Hank knew statistics. Hank knew logic. But Hank, did not comfort.

Charles laughed dryly at the comment. "Why won't you leave me alone?" he said miserably.

"God damn it," Raven said in exasperation, "Quit being an insufferable little shit and talk to someone! I don't care who it is, Charles, but if you promise to talk to someone, we will leave you alone." Both parties were silent for a minute. Before Charles tentatively replied,

"Alright."

"You don't look to good." Charles frowned and looked up from the piece of paper in front of him, that was supposed to be his art assignment.

"That would be an accurate observation," he replied to the Latina front of him. She tucked a strand off raven black hair behind her ear. Charles frowned and once again hung his head in misery.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong, or am I gonna have to start guessing?" Charles sighed before meeting the girl's gaze again. He squinted for a minute.

"I don't know you, right?" She flashed him a smile, one that was painfully reminiscent of Erik's smiles. Smiles only Charles was ever on the receiving end of... Shaking his head, Charles refocused his attention on the girl.

"No, but I'm curious by nature," she replied. She stuck out a hand, and Charles shook it. "My name's Angel, you?" Charles stared at her bold tone. Half of him was curious, but the other half was quite disoriented. She laughed musically.

"That's quite the name you have, sugar." Snapping out of his stupor, Charles returned the smile (albeit insincerely).

"Charles Xavier," he replied quietly.

"Nice to meet ya'. Wanna tell me what's bothering' you?" Charles sighed. Where was the harm?

"If you really want to know, then... I recently broke up with someone."

Erik Lehnsherr carried his lunch try with an air of misery. Before Charles, Erik usually got to the lunch room early enough to claim a table of his own. Today, he had not gotten here early enough, and was unwelcome at his usual table.

Which left Erik standing with his tray, walking, and then almost going flying over a previously pushed in chair.

Catching his balance, Erik turned to stare at the chair. His eyes followed it to the table it had come from only to find himself staring at Shaw's gang.

Emma Frost gave him a rather dazzling smile. Her platinum blonde hair (she was sporting a Farah Fawcett style) was held back by a glamorous pair of sunglasses. She stopped idly playing with her diamond jewelry for a minute to stare at Erik. "What's eatin' at ya, baby cakes?" she said, with a snap of her gum. True to her last name, cold blue eyes were trained on Erik.

"One usually answers a question asked of them, Comrade," Azazel said, looking rather bored. He looked up at Erik, and a anther devious grin spread across his face. Emma shot Azazel a dirty look, who merely shrugged. As always, the foreign exchange student, Janos, was quiet as a mouse. A sweet smile reappeared on her face as Emma set her gaze on Erik.

"Come on Honey," she said, gesturing to the seat, "Sit down. We don't hang with dirt like Shaw no more."

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