Title: The Power of Persuasion
Author: Red Fiona
Disclaimer: The characters and the settings do not belong to me; they belong to the Fox and Marvel. No money is being made from this.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Characters: Charles Xavier (with Magneto, Mystique and Charles's mother)
Rating: PG-12
Notes: Set after the scene with the radio dish. Apparently ever X-Men writer has to write a fic about Xavier and his telepathy. This is mine.
Summary: Charles worries about the side-effects of his powers on the people he uses them on.

Erik still looked paler than usual. Charles thought the cause was the shock of the emotions they'd unlocked rather than exertion. Charles gave Erik a cup of tea with far more milk and sugar than Erik usually took. It had been the cook's general remedy for everything when Charles had been little. He carefully passed the mug to Erik, making sure to keep his fingers on the other side of it, to avoid contact. Erik's mind was all raw edges at the moment, even at a distance, and Charles didn't want to disturb him any further. Erik's mind was his own business.

The blood slowly returned to Erik's face and he relaxed. His eyes were closed as he spoke, "so while you've been busily encouraging us, how have you been training your powers?"

Charles had forgotten that Erik was never less than sharp.

There was no good answer.

Trying to explain telepathy to someone who didn't have it was almost impossible, full of inexact analogies that could never ever really convey what it felt like. The best Charles could ever come up with was leaky lock gates. He was the lockkeeper, and when he wanted to, he could let more or less of the world in. Other telepaths could force the lock gates, hold them closed or swing them the other way so that his thoughts came spilling out. He tried not to let more water in than was necessary, but it was so tempting, he was a magpie for other people's thoughts, but he thought that Erik wouldn't appreciate it if he started stealing into his mind.

Of course, the mind reading was only part of it. He could alter people's minds; change their memories if he tried hard enough. Charles knew what Erik thought, not because he has read Erik's mind, but because Erik had always made himself clear on this matter. Charles should practise those other parts of his powers. Erik would say that their enemies wouldn't hesitate. But Charles does. The simplest reason for this, the one he can tell people about, is who would volunteer to be the guinea pig? The harder he tried, the more badly it could go wrong. Charles had promised he would never invade Raven's mind without her permission and he still felt guilty about the incident with Hank. Alex and Sean were, no matter what they themselves believed, children, or not much older, and Charles was still unsure that he was doing the right thing even letting them join this team. Moira would, perfectly legitimately, claim that there were security implications to using her as a guinea pig. And Charles couldn't ever see Erik being willing to allow anyone free access to his thoughts. Accidentally, in an emergency or with his advance permission and in a limited way, he could, but if Charles were really going to try to train, it wouldn't be any of those things. Erik would never stand for it. He was like Raven in that way, their sense of self being tied to their sense of privacy. Charles, understandably he thought, had never been able to see it that way.

Charles also knew what Erik would say to all of that, he'd say, that's what the mundanes are for. There was something about the way Erik thought about non-mutants, something unpleasant that Charles didn't want to see.

Then there was the reason he didn't tell people about. It was probably guilt, or shame, that stopped him. It shouldn't, in fact he should probably warn them, but how could he? And if he did, how would they ever trust him and his powers ever again? Because that was what it was; a side effect of his use of one of his powers. Charles had seen what happened when he went too far, or too much or too often. Merely reading someone's mind or talking to them that way didn't seem to cause any damage, he wouldn't do so frequently it if it did, but whenever he changed someone's mind - what they were doing, what they were thinking, what they remembered - there was a risk.

He hadn't noticed at first. He and his mother never were close. The housekeeper had looked after the house, and nanny had looked after him, then after that, he'd been at boarding school for most of the year. Father's secretary caught Mother's mistakes almost before she made them. Little things - forgotten cards, misremembered dates for Women's Association meetings. A certain vagueness crept in.

By the time Charles noticed, it was too late to fix his mother's mind. He blamed his own ineptitude, youthful over-exuberance and not knowing how to do what he wanted without causing damage.

He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. There was Raven to consider and she want more important to him than anything.

So he had to carry on influencing his mother. With everyone else, he practised lying instead, using his wits as much as his powers. And it worked. Once his mother died (not his fault, not his fault at all) he didn't need use that facet of his power at all. As long as Raven kept up appearances, the documents were easy enough to forge and Oxford was miles away from Westchester so they weren't likely to run into anyone they'd known before.

Then, one day, a professor had been particularly offended by Charles's absence from one of his lectures (who expected people to be there at an 8.30 lecture on a Monday?), and it had just been easier to let the Professor think that he'd been there, sitting quietly to Peter's right, than to argue with him about Charles's attendance or lack thereof. All Charles did was to suggest half a thought; he built on what was already there instead of fighting against what the Professor was sure of.

And it worked. Because Charles had regular lectures with this professor, and couldn't notice any difference in his behaviour. He kept a close eye on him, just in case, but he never saw any changes. Charles came up with a theory, he thought that maybe it was easier, and less harsh on the other person's mind, if he subtly altered what they knew, rather than forcing them to believe something they knew was false.

He hadn't wanted to test his theory, in case he was wrong. He didn't want someone else's brain damage on his conscience.

But there were times when it was unavoidable. People catching flashes of something they shouldn't, normally seeing Raven change. He used to explain it away by suggesting to their minds that what they had really seen was the blue flashing lights of police cars or ambulances shining on Raven; small suggestions that shouldn't cause any damage.

That had been his rule, to use the more traditional forms of persuasion rather than his powers where possible and only make the smallest of changes if there was no other way. It was becoming less and less possible with time. So many things depended on them now that squeamishness was becoming less of an excuse for not at least trying it again. He would love to have spoken to the other telepath; to see if this was a problem that all telepaths had or if she'd found a way around it. He worried though, that she knew about the side effects and didn't care.

Even without that though, he was still a mind-reader. That was power enough. Though he hasn't been practising that either.

Erik was still waiting for an answer.

"I have been practising."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Do you think you would?" Charles doesn't know why he chose to lie. If Erik believed him, he'd go mad, and if he didn't then it was pointless. Erik just smiled at him, so he must have known it was a lie, and was letting it lie as something Charles chose to keep secret. Erik had enough secrets of his own that he couldn't begrudge anyone else one. It didn't solve Charles's problem, but it postponed some of the trouble and that was all Charles could hope for.