It was raining the day Charles Xavier met his future self.

Charles had woken up to the soft patter of rainfall outside his window. After blinking the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, he allowed himself a moment of melancholy, his mood shifting into something matching the weather that had descended upon Westchester sometime during the night. Charles made a concentrated daily effort not to dwell on the past, both for him and for the small family he'd amassed at the manor, but in that moment, the sounds of the falling rain tapped out the losses mapped across Charles' heart in sharp, staccato beats. Grief. Sadness. Regret. Raven. Erik.

Blinking back the sudden moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes, Charles tossed aside his blankets and reached for his chair. Everything about his life post-Cuba was different, even the simple act of getting out of bed. As he went through his morning routine, the movements no longer quite as alien and uncomfortable as they had once been, he allowed his mind to wander. It was in these private moments behind his own closed doors that Charles indulged in what-ifs and could've beens. What if he had tried harder to understand Raven? Stood in her shoes, used his own unique sense of empathy and understanding on the one person who had been like a sister to him, the only real family he'd ever had? What if things had been different that day on the beach? What if Erik had stayed?

In these moments, Charles imagined himself believing Erik when he said they wanted the same things. Erik took off the helmet, cradled Charles in his arms and kissed him, a kiss filled with unyielding devotion and promises of the future. Raven was there, squeezing his hand, and if he closed his eyes, Charles could almost smell the salt of the water as it lapped against the shore. If he closed his eyes, he could believe that somewhere, somehow, these were the choices they had made that day.

Charles found Hank alone in the kitchen once he had finally readied himself to face the day, the aroma of pancakes and bacon wafting pleasantly through the room. Charles figured it was only a matter of time before the scent reached Alex and Sean upstairs and woke them from their usual deep sleep.

"Good morning, Professor," Hank greeted with an easy smile as he flipped a pancake. Even though Raven was gone, the nicknames had stuck. Charles hadn't been part of that, but the rest of them had, and he suspected that it was their way of coping with their own losses, holding on to something bright and unifying in the face of sudden confusion and betrayal.

"Good morning, Hank," Charles replied, reaching for the newspaper Hank had lain out on the table. He thumbed through the pages, setting the crossword aside for later. He browsed a few stories on various unrelated topics: Winston Churchill granted honorary American citizenship in Washington, a group of teenagers gone missing up north in Vermont, a nuclear sub lost in the waters of the Atlantic. Charles frowned slightly, wondering if the men on board had known about mutants, if the Brotherhood had -

No. Charles wouldn't think of that. What Erik and Raven and their allies did was none of Charles' business. Not right now. Charles couldn't deny the painful inevitability that one day he would have to face Erik and Raven as adversaries, but he was resolved to keep that day as far in the future as he possibly could.

"Charles?" Hank asked. His head was titled faintly to the side as he studied Charles, brow furrowed in slight concern. Charles smiled in apology and set the paper down. "Forgive me, Hank. What were you saying?"

"I was just telling you that I think the new Cerebro is almost ready for a test run."

Charles smiled, easy and natural, something that was admittedly rarer these days than he would like to admit. "Excellent! Well done, Hank."

Hank grinned bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm hoping that the improvements I made will expand your reach even further than the original model could. We've all been bouncing around some ideas about what we can teach the first wave of mutants that come to the school. Sean feels very strongly about inundating young mutant minds with his favorite comic books, but I didn't think you'd find that to be terribly relevant to the curriculum. Sean argued that Captain America is always relevant but, well," and Hank shrugged, baffled expression on his face.

For maybe the first time since Cuba, Charles felt a genuine sense of contented warmth spread slowly through him, settling comfortably in his chest next to the earlier sadness of the morning, which quietly dissipated away.

###

Charles had barely had a chance to appreciate all that he felt and all that it meant to be connected to Cerebro, connected to so many mutants, so many beautifully unique minds, when a familiar presence nearby pulled all of his focus.

Raven.

There was a distinct absence of matter near her. It wasn't the naturalness that came from unoccupied spaces as he moved from mutant to mutant, but an obvious block; a void.

Erik.

Charles opened his eyes and looked at Hank, expression serious and grim despite his best efforts to project a natural aura of calm. "I believe we have company, my friend."

###

Erik stared up at the manor and, if it were possible, he thought it seemed even more imposing than it had the first time he'd ever laid eyes on it.

"He's not going to turn us away. He wouldn't," Mystique said from beside him, but Erik didn't miss the uncertain waver in her voice.

"He won't," Erik said, with certainty. "Charles is better than that."

Erik had had to swallow a fair amount of pride before admitting that the Brotherhood needed Charles' help for their latest mission. Well, what they really needed was Cerebro, but even if Emma could have gained access to it, Erik didn't think she was powerful enough to find the mutants they were looking for. Not the way Charles could, expanding his reach in a way that seemed almost effortless and easy. It was yet another reminder of all the ways in which Emma Frost was not and never would be Charles Xavier.

Mystique was the one who had learned that Hank was working on a replica of the machine that had been destroyed during Shaw's raid of the CIA facility. How she'd gleaned that information, Erik hadn't asked. It was an unspoken agreement between them - while they talked at length about the things they had gained in the six months since Cuba, they never, ever spoke about all they had lost.

Mystique took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Ok. Let's do this as quick and painless as possible." Erik admired her determination. Neither of them had seen or spoken to Charles since that day on the beach, a day they'd both just as soon forget, and he honestly wasn't sure, in that moment, which of them would have to fight harder not to crumble under that earnest blue gaze.

"You really should take the helmet off," Mystique observed as they approached the manor door. "It will make them more willing to trust us."

Erik grinned at her, feral and full of teeth. "Not a chance."

"At least you left the cape at home."

Erik scoffed. "It's been raining all morning. You know how difficult that thing is to clean."

She opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden blast of energy surged between them, knocking them both to the ground.

"What. The. Fuck are you two doing here?" growled a voice from the doorway. Erik looked up. Alex had grown bulkier since Erik had last seen him, holding himself with an assurance and confidence that Erik couldn't quite remember him possessing before. He was clad only in a pair of cotton pajama bottoms, but that didn't make him any less formidable in that moment.

"Alex," Mystique said cautiously, slowly climbing to her feet. "We aren't here to fight."

"I don't really give a fuck why you're here. Leave."

Erik laughed as he stood, dusting the dirt and gravel from his trousers. "We aren't afraid of you, and I fear you're no match for us alone. Really, Havoc, I thought idle threats were beneath you."

"He isn't alone." Sean emerged from behind Alex, looking at Mystique and Erik as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry, scared, or maybe even a little bit happy to see them.

Erik sighed. "I don't have time for child's play. We're here to see Charles."

"No," Sean said, clearly horrified by the idea. In the same moment, Alex shot another blast of energy at them, this one a clear warning. "You don't go near the Professor," he told them.

"Oh for God's sake, knock it off!" Mystique exclaimed, and Erik could see that her temperament had quickly gone from cautious to irate. Alex looked ready to shoot at them again, Sean straightening to full height in preparation to back him up if needed. Instead, a quiet, calm voice sounded behind them.

"That's enough, gentlemen."

Whatever Erik had been expecting when he saw Charles again for the first time after their terrible parting, it hadn't been this. Charles looked thin and sallow. There were dark circles underneath his eyes and he was paler than Erik had ever seen him. But the most disconcerting thing of all was that Charles was in a wheelchair. Surely he wasn't still recovering after all this time?

"Erik. Raven." Charles' voice was even and steady. Erik envied him that in the face of the sudden, violent tumult that had taken over his insides. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Charles..." Mystique's voice was quiet, something strained and painful. Her eyes were locked on the wheelchair, and Erik could see them filling with tears.

Charles' tone was gentle, filled with far more kindness than Erik felt they deserved as he said, "I'm afraid it's permanent, my dear."

Mystique sank to her knees, hands covering her mouth as she fought back a sob. Erik stood, still as stone, held together by years of practice using unimaginable pain as a fuel, not a deterrent, but inside he was certain he was crumbling like the world's great wonders of old. Charles would never walk again. He would never run on these grounds, head thrown back in laughter. Would never saunter slowly from the doorway to the bed, straddling Erik's lap as he leaned down for heated, passionate kisses... Erik shook his head and pushed those memories back down into the places his mother had occupied alone, before Charles. Before Cuba. Before a bullet in the spine of the man he loved and a horrifying, irrefutable reality that nothing would ever be the same.

The calm acceptance with which Charles looked at them both was nearly Erik's undoing. "Charles – "

"You wish for me to use Cerebro to find a group of mutants you believe have been captured for experimentation?" He looked at Mystique, features shifting in slight remorse. "Forgive me, Raven. You're projecting rather loudly at the moment."

Erik cleared his throat. "Yes. You may have read about it, a group gone missing during a camping trip in the Appalachians. Our... sources tell us that this was a group of mutants attacked and taken by a government agency with the sole intent of testing and experimenting on them. Barely more than children, hunted and preyed upon by these monstrous people. Supposedly there's an underground facility located in the general area of where they were taken."

Charles nodded. "Please, come in." The lack of hesitation and instant, if cautious, trust that Charles offered them twisted something painfully in Erik's gut.

Charles turned his chair to move back into the house, and that's when Erik noticed Hank, who had likely been standing there with Charles since his arrival at the door. Hank was looking at Mystique as if she were the air breathed back into the lungs of a drowning man. Erik wondered idly if he'd been looking at her the entire time, oblivious to all else that had been going on around him. Erik could remember what that felt like, getting lost in Charles' easy smile, his kind nature, the endless depths of his eyes.

"Ra... Mystique," he said, voice stilted and awkward, yet he still stepped forward to offer her his hand, helping her to stand on unsteady feet. Erik was sure she looked in control of herself to the others, but Erik knew better. If Charles hadn't already gone back inside, he would have known better, too.

"Beast," she said with a smile that seemed just slightly more natural than forced. "You look good."

Alex rolled his eyes and moved to follow Charles inside, Sean on his heels. "Whatever. I'd like to go on record and say that I think this is a really fucking bad idea." After a pause, he turned to face Erik and Mystique. "As you can see, he's been through a lot since you abandoned us." No sugar coating it, then. Erik had to admire his brashness. "If either of you have any fucking decency left at all, you'll get your information and leave us the hell alone."

Erik was familiar with anger. In fact, he considered it an old friend, and he knew this particular anger very well. Underneath it, Alex was a wounded animal, his survival instinct to lash out, to hurt before being hurt any further.

"I can assure you, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here." It was a lie, and Erik knew it, Mystique probably knew it, but he doubted Alex, in all of his burning indignation, would give it a second thought.

Alex nodded stiffly and he and Sean disappeared into the house. It was just Erik, Mystique and Hank still outside, with Charles waiting patiently in the foyer just inside the doors. "Shall we?" Erik asked, inclining his head toward the manor.

The four of them made their way to Cerebro, Hank pushing Charles' chair down the long corridor toward his lab. One of the first things Erik had noticed, after the initial shock of seeing the wheelchair had worn off, was that it was made of very little metal. Erik was sure it was intentional, that upon hearing Charles' diagnosis Hank had immediately began mentally constructing a chair for Charles that Erik couldn't manipulate. As if he would ever - Erik swallowed down the sudden flare of anger, willing himself to be calm. Deep down, he knew that Hank had every reason not to trust him with Charles after what had happened.

As Erik glanced upward at the ceiling, he wondered if he and Mystique still had rooms here, if Charles had left them untouched in the hopes that one day they would return. Not that Erik had needed his room much, his nights spent in Charles' bed, in Charles' arms, laughing and kissing and fucking and whispering their secrets into the night, mapping out their hopes and dreams and fears on each other's skin. Erik had felt infinite in those moments, invincible, like he could take on the world and, as long as Charles was by his side, he would succeed.

He and Mystique watched quietly as Hank hooked Charles up to Cerebro. "We're not sure how well she works yet," Hank told them as he double checked the wiring on Charles' headpiece. "We were actually testing her out for the first time right as you showed up."

"It's how we knew you were here," Charles said bemusedly. He had been uncharacteristically quiet since their admittance into the house. It was understandable, given the situation, and yet Erik still found it somewhat disconcerting.

"I thought you couldn't find Erik because of..." Mystique gestured vaguely to her head, worrying her lower lip. It was one of the few ways in which the Brotherhood had the upper hand, Erik being able to shield himself from Charles entirely.

"I assure you, I haven't found a way to ruin the Brotherhood's favorite toy," Charles told them, and underneath the affable effect of his voice, Erik could sense real hurt and bitterness there. "It was the rather pronounced and distinct lack of anything beside you, not even natural space, which alerted me to Erik."

Information to be filed away for later use, Erik thought, although he doubted there was much to be done for it. He would only ever admit it to himself, in his greatest moments of weakness, how much he missed the calming, constant presence of his lover's mind brushing against his own.

Charles looked to Hank, a slight nod indicating that he was ready. To Erik and Mystique, he simply said, "I'll do my best to find what you're looking for." Erik didn't doubt him for a moment. Despite the current chasm stretching out between them, Charles would never turn his back on a mutant in need.

"Still sure I can't shave your head?" Hank asked with a grin. Charles laughed, and Erik took no longer than the beat of a heart to wonder at just how beautiful a single sound could be. Even Mystique's lips twitched upward at the memory.

For the first few moments, it was almost exactly as Erik remembered it to be from the first time around. Charles' closed eyes were moving rapidly behind the lids, hands gripping the arms of his chair as his mind touched mutant after mutant. His body gave a sudden lurch forward, the movement spasmodic and unexpected, and before he knew what he was doing, Erik was there, steadying him with hands on his shoulders.

"It's all right," he murmured. "I've got you."

Charles' body jerked again, more violently this time, and Erik was able to register his surprised, "Oh!" before he knew only darkness.