Everything had gone relatively well preparing the Xavier mansion to be both school and sanctuary to many young mutants. Charles had thrown himself into the planning early on during his physical therapy, only a month after the Cuban Missile Crisis. Hank had suspected it was the telepath's way of putting off thinking about Erik, Ravn or his disability - and while he was thankful the man hadn't turned to more detrimental outlets, he still worried for him.

Then came the news about the President. It had been horrifying to begin with, but to have Erik named as a mutant extremist as who had assassinated JFK was the extra bit that pushed Charles from his path. Having such a forceful reminder of Erik's destructive nature, Charles was forced to stop and face his feelings, even for a short while, about what had happened to him. Charles stopped planning for the school for a month and a half, his mind lost elsewhere.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Hank asked, voice unsure. He always disliked confrontations with Charles while he was drunk.

"No," he began, holding his glass up for Hank to refill, when he made no move he continued, "either help me with my buzz or move." He leveled a glare at Hank, waiting for him to make up his mind. The scientist gave in, taking the glass from the other mutant. He dipped the neck of the bottle for just a moment so that hardly two sips could be made of it before giving the glass back to Charles. "Don't think I don't know what you're trying," He peered into the glass a moment and moved from the room, chair whirring quietly as he directed it down the hall. "Luckily for you I'm going to retire now to my room." Where I've already stashed my good Brandy, He thought to himself.

"Then I have to come," Hank began, knowing Charles' strength dwindled when he had been drinking and he would be unable to pull himself out of his chair and into bed.

Charles paused a moment, trying to remember exactly where he had put the bottle and if Hank would see it upon entering his room. "If you must," he hummed noncommittally.

Once Hank had left Charles, having helped him into bed, he couldn't find the motivation to pull himself back out and get to his stashed alcohol. He huffed and pushed himself onto his side, facing the open window looking out over the dark grounds. He hugged his nearly empty glass to his cheek as he drifted from consciousness.

Charles rolled his hips up, eyes still closed to the light of the sun, painting his vision in red as he focused on the strong hands trailing down over his thighs, parting them slowly.

"Open your eyes. Come on, look at me, Charles." The smaller mutant smiled a moment, the corners of his lips dipping away from the sun, cast in shadow. When he did peek his eyes open, icy pools more grey than their regular green-blue stared back at him, Erik's irises catching the light from the sun and paling the color of them further. "There you are," Erik's expression softened and the other mutant moved down between Charles' thighs.

"What are you going after down th- oh good lord," Erik's mouth was on him before he could finish speaking, spreading his legs wider and moving a hand down to knot his fingers in brown-red locks.

The metal bender looked up along the length of the smaller mutant, his view obstructed by the other's erection, standing at attention, neglected. He drew his tongue around the trembling pucker of Charles' entrance, hands holding his firm cheeks apart as he eased his tongue in slowly.

A breathy whine escaped the telepath before he could stop it, cheeks colored pink with embarrassment and arousal as Erik pressed his tongue over the circle, the wet pink muscle curving into him in a far too skilled manner. "Erik!" The sight alone was nearly enough to push him over, seeing Erik, face flush up against him. Charles raised himself up off the bed some, his feet pressed to his metal footboard for leverage. Erik followed him up and moved a hand to stroke along Charles' leaking cock, making him cry out again, hips working to get himself off faster. Within moments the telepath came, muscles spasming every few seconds until he dropped off from his high.

"I'd guess from the look on your face you've returned from the heavens, honestly Charles, the sounds and faces you make are pornographic."

His cheeks darkened farther, "Oh shutup," he smiled drowsily, "you know you love every moment of it."

"That I do." Erik offered him a wide smile as he climbed up into bed with him.

Right as Erik's lips came down to meet Charles', the telepath woke, eyes snapping open, expression the epitome of surprise for a split second before it contorted to one of pain, eyes brimming with tears. His chest radiated pain, ripped so suddenly from a dream he wanted so desperately to be true. Charles took in a shuddering breath, brows knit together as he tried to pull himself together. He reached a hand down and touched his leg, the foreign limb not responding even minutely.

Charles carefully eased himself into his chair from bed an hour later and went to his hidden bottle. He didn't bother to find the glass he had fallen asleep with pressed to his face the night before and instead drank straight from the deep amber colored bottle.

It took Hank another month to get Charles off of alcohol and back to planning for the school, however he had lost the fervor he had worked with before the news had hit about Erik. He gave him time to cope, hoping eventually he would brighten, once the school was opened. Three years from starting the planning Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters opened and began accepting mutants from all over.

Despite the successful start of the school, Hank could see the unhappiness that still plagued Charles. He did seem, overall, happier. However the telepath could be found sulking, eyes unfocused as he thought of other things, his mind elsewhere when he thought no one was watching him. When Charles was left to think, unoccupied by teaching or helping students especially, but every now and then he would be lost mid thought during a lecture. His hand would grip his thigh subtly, testing for feedback that never came. Hank knew that Charles still had nightmares about the day Erik and Raven left him. He was woken more nights than not by Charles' cries, easily heard through the wall separating their rooms. After the first couple of weeks Charles had brushed it off, told Hank he was alright and apologized for having startled him when he checked in on him. Eventually the scientist gave in and left him be.

It was a year later, when the war overseas intensified and Charles' students and faculty were drafted that the telepath broke down again. He locked himself away from Hank, the rest of the mansion emptied. He wallowed in his pain, refusing to use his chair or eat regular meals. He wouldn't listen to Hank's attempts to reason with him no matter how many times he tried to coax Charles from his depression. His nightmares worsened, fear for his students dying overseas mingling with the devastation of Erik's betrayal keeping him from sleeping most nights and haunting him when he did slip from consciousness. He didn't have any relief either, the nights he was free of nightmares and could sleep, his mind supplied him with the bittersweet dreams of Erik taking him and being able to walk and feel his legs again, throwing him into ice water whenever he woke alone and paralyzed once more.

He felt his mind being invaded, a crushing weight pressing down on his chest before he heard the cries from the room next to his. He scrambled to his bedside to pull his glasses on before he hurried into the telepath's room. "Charles," Hank turned a lamp on at the brunette's bedside table before touching the other mutant's forehead, brushing his sweaty locks away. "You're safe, you're here with me. Shhh, come on, look at me. It's Hank."

Charles writhed on his bed, anchored by Hank's hand on his brow. Tortured blue orbs rolled up to look into Hank's worried face, slowly coming back to himself. He blinked the tears from his eyes and rolled out from under the contact slowly once he had regained himself. "'M sorry, Hank…"

"Hey, it's not your fault. I don't blame any of this on you," he tried to encourage the other, "your powers get away from you sometimes is all."

Whenever he woke lately, Charles' ability cast itself wide, connecting with any mind that was near enough and pressing his fear, pain and sadness into the individuals. The first time it happened Hank had been so intimately connected to the telepath that he couldn't move his legs until Charles was aware of the connection and pulled back from Hank's mind. That same incident was when Hank learned the extent of his friend's feelings toward Erik. He made no comment, unsure if Charles was aware he knew. Still he could understand better the other's pain.

He could see how utterly devastated the telepath was and how little he had progressed in so long and so Hank had worked endlessly to come up with a temporary fix for his hurting friend. At least it had been meant to be temporary. Something to give him his legs back and that would quell the storm that always raged on in his mind. Another year passed before he came up with his serum. He hadn't thought to use the drug he had synthesized with the help of Raven years ago to combat their mutations as a springboard to the later drug.

He told Charles of the serum one night, expressing that he hadn't refined it yet but couldn't really alter it until he had some test results from Charles since he couldn't very well test rats to see how it affected paralysis or telepathy. The man had given him a tired stare, weary but not opposed to the idea. He also had a sort of 'fuck all' attitude, believing it couldn't make things worse. If he was entirely honest with himself, he was willing to do anything to be able to walk or sleep sound again.

The drug hadn't been expected to be such a success so soon. A few modifications and within another year Charles was able to walk and sleep with relative ease, but at a price. He couldn't use his ability. He couldn't read even the faintest whisper of a thought but what scared Hank most was Charles' eagerness to give up his ability so long as he could walk. He was quickly addicted to the drug, taking more than he needed to as well as drinking at all hours of the day. Hank feared he had subdued, not improved the situation.

x x x

Raven had been on her own for a long time before she decided she wanted to take a quick visit home. She visited the mansion while classes were still in session and students were still crowding the halls, giving her endless opportunities and forms to take on. She shifted into one little girl and paced through the halls, trying to find Hank or Charles. She found the later first, sitting in the library as students quietly milled about. She hugged herself to the door stop as she watched the brunette, anchored in place by his chair as he watched students, smiling weakly to some as they waved before he would lower his head, pretending to be reading the book in his lap.

She wanted so badly to go over to him and give him a hug but she feared how he would respond, knowing Charles had to suspect she had a part in the shooting and fearing his rejection because of it. She decided not to engage the man she had grown up with and instead wandered the halls aimlessly for a while. She took in all she could while she was there, admiring Charles and Hank's work on the school. After a while she ventured up to the wing that housed Charles, Hank and her old room, wanting to see who occupied the space.

She was shocked to see nothing had changed in her room. It was cleaned, not a spec of dust to be found, but otherwise everything seemed to be left in place from the last day she had been there, four years ago.

Curiosity got the better of her when she left her old bedroom. She slipped into Charles' room next to see if it too, was as much as mess as she had remembered it to be. There was a clear path left between piles of papers and junk for his chair to maneuver, but otherwise the room was just as chaotic as she could remember. She sunk into his bed and pressed her face into his pillows, shifting to her natural blue form. Raven could smell Charles on the sheets which was oddly comforting to her. She felt safe and at home for the first time since she left.

She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep in Charles' bed until the sun was setting. She quickly shifted back into the little girl she had wander around as earlier that day before and

disappeared once more to make her own path since Erik had been ripped from her side and staying wasn't a viable option.

x x

Days blended together into weeks which likewise blended into months. There was no real rest in his solitary confinement, the lights overhead never giving way and letting him have some time to rest his mind and actually sleep properly. It didn't help either that food wasn't brought on a consistent breakfast, lunch, dinner schedule with five or so hours between meals and an eight or nine hour block left for sleeping. Instead he was given food what he assumed to be every eight hours, stretching out the time between meals. The food, on top of it was a monotone colored mush and he tried not to hard to think about the components it was made of. He couldn't find it in himself to complain though, he didn't expect much more for the treatment of an assumed president killer.

The worst part of being imprisoned wasn't the constant light overhead, the food or the thin bedding that offered little to no padding from the hard cement floor. The worst part was the deafening silence. It left him with little to do but think of the things he wanted to stay furthest from; Charles whom he had hurt so badly and betrayed. Raven whom he'd left alone with no one to go to or rely on. Last was his dark past, before he met the two other mutants. He was left alone to rot in a prison that often triggered memories he wished he could barry of his first sort of hell.

He relived his mother's death a thousand times in his sleep, unable to move the simple metal coin even with the development of his abilities, trapped in his younger self. He relived the agonized scream Charles released as he pressed the coin through Shaw's skull, the telepath holding him immobile for Erik. He relived deflecting the bullet meant for him into Charles' lower back, always only ever gaining control of himself or the bullet after the damage had already been done. He was a prisoner in his own body as he relived the worst memories he had, unable to change anything about them.

Even after years he still woke with a start, his ability forced out from him in a sphere, attempting to cling to any metal he could find, never latching on to anything before his limits were reached. The unintended shock wave did have some effects on the surface, kitchen knives tumbling to the floor randomly, pans dented, but never did Erik feel any of it. A sort of hollowness ached inside of him, feeling as though he lost his ability, his freedom, his sanity. At times he wished for his days to simply come to an end.

x

There was no hope for the school to be brought back to it's former glory, his students were still gone. He didn't need to work to pay for his home either, nor did he feel as though he had anywhere else to go or be so Charles found himself with an overabundance of free time. He wouldn't leave his room without first giving himself a dose of the drug Hank had made him, tying his himself off with a rubber tube and injecting the inside of his left arm, now scarred from multiple daily injections. He would sit and wait, feeling the effects of the drug taking hold. His mind becoming a little hazier, slight euphoria and the numbing his ability, closing his mind off from other beings, safely tucked away inside of his own mind. He'd feel the soreness in his legs return, a welcome ache when it meant he could walk. Charles would watch his toes curl, the sight brought tears to his eyes the first couple of years.

He padded around his room a few times, letting his body adjust and to let the drugs take affect. He was hyper aware of his lower half as he moved; feeling the carpet under his feet give way, the sensation of his pant legs brushing against his skin whenever he took a step. Hank couldn't understand, and he knew he didn't. But he wasn't fighting to be able to do something most people could. He pushed the thoughts back before leaving his room and going to make himself a drink. That's when he heard Hank talking to someone he didn't know.

x x

The fact that Logan kept mentioning him being able to walk didn't slip past Charles even as he played it off to the rather bulky man. He listened to his speal, telling himself that the stranger was out of his mind, but a part of him nagged at a feeling that he had met him before and that Logan knew him as well.

"I'll tell you what you told me then," Charles paused, looking into Logan's eyes, "go fuck yourself." He shoved himself off of the other as fast as he could and retreated back to his room to give himself another shot.

"I told you there wasn't a professor here." Hank said sadly, watching the other mutant absorb the information.

"What's happened to him?"

"He's lost everything… the drug I synthesized, that I use to treat my mutation lets him walk, but he can't use his abilities either. See," Hank moved around to get closer to Logan, "I take just enough to treat myself. But... he takes too much."

"I'm not cut out for this," the other mutant sighs, not knowing what to do with himself now. If Charles couldn't read his mind he couldn't know he was telling the truth, that he was from the future and that they needed him as much as he needed them. He was more than relieved when he heard Charles say he'd help. It didn't matter the man's reason, not to Logan. If Charles was willing to help then half of the battle was already won. When he mentioned Erik though, he caught the other's devastation. "I need you both for this. It's the only way,"

"He won't work with us." Charles said bitterly, looking away. "Not like he could."

"He sent me here with you, from the future. He'll join."

"If you can get to him."

"Why? Where is he?"

"He honestly didn't tell you?" Hank chuckled, shaking his head slowly, "He's in prison. Under the pentagon." He leaned to the side to see Charles drawing in to himself, expression hard.

"Well… I know a guy. Could break into anywhere. Grew up outside of DC. But I don't know where exactly."

Hank looked to Charles, fearful to ask "Is Cerebro out of the question?" The look Charles gives him and the way he moves back is all Hank needs. "We have a phone book."

x x x

Despite the utter annoyance Pieto "Peter" Maximoff inspired in Charles, the former professor was still slightly taken by the teen. He clearly had kleptomaniac issues, but there was something endearing about him that he liked. They sent him out ahead of them into the pentagon to secure his borrowed uniform and attempt to break Erik out of his cell.

Erik had been resting, attempting to clear his mind when the tray hit his bedding. He opened his eyes slowly to look up at the guard, He seems… young. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked over at the tray and the note under the see-through top. Mind the glass. Confused he looked back up to the guard who in turn smiled to him. When his hands touched the glass ceiling of his cell he got to his feet to watch, interested.

Moments later he was shaking himself free of shards of the glass and hoisting himself up out of his cell. "You know guards will be coming through there any moment to stop us,"

"Planning on it." Quicksilver smiled, suddenly at his side, one hand at the back of Erik's head, the other on his arm.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm holding your neck so you don't get whiplash."

"What?"

Quicksilver gave him an exasperated look, "Whip-laaaaaaaaaaaaaash," he clarified vaguely.

Before he could blink they were suddenly in an elevator, his entire body feeling as though it had withstood a car crash, eyes dry and stomach upside down. He reached out to the wall of the elevator to steady himself.

"Happens to everyone," mused the teen, suddenly wearing a silver getup. "You must have done something pretty serious. What'd you do? Come on, tell me. What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?"

"Killed the president." That caught the kid off guard. He looked to the man tapped to the side of the elevator. "I'm only guilty of fighting for people like us."

"Oh. So they told me you can control metal."

"They?"

"You know, my mom knew a guy that could do that,"

Erik turned to look at the teen then, caught off by what he had said just before the elevator doors opened, revealing a rather wet Charles Xavier. "Charles?" The punch had been a surprise. Not uncalled for, he supposed, but a surprise no less. He held his jaw a moment, "Good to see you too, old friend." He swallowed down the whirl of emotions that rose at the sight of Charles. Shame, sadness, regret, fear, love and adoration. Now wasn't the time.

Wasn't the time either when they were on the plane. Erik had to change out of his prison uniform so as not to look too suspicious as they headed east for the conference in Paris to stop Raven. Logan didn't have any extra clothes with him and the metal bender refused to wear any of Hank's shockingly stripped clothes, seeing as all of them would have made him look like a child. So Charles grudgingly allowed the other mutant to take a pair of pants and a denim button down shirt he had packed for the trip. Erik tried to hide his approval of wearing the telepath's clothes, keeping the smile from his lips when he left the cramped bathroom on the plane.

He settled on the couch near Charles, facing neither Logan nor the telepath, either man at opposite ends of the cabin. He could feel the Charles' eyes on him and before he could stop himself he lashed out, "You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?" Erik asked, turning to stare back at the other mutant.

"I sacrificed my powers so I could sleep." His voice drifted off at the end of the half lie, expression hurt.

"I've lost my fair share,"

Charles scoffed, "Dry your eyes Erik, doesn't justify what you've done."

"You don't know what I've done," He began, knowing Charles had to suspect he had been entirely responsible for the death of their president.

"I know you've taken the things that mean the most to me,"

"Maybe you should have fought harder for them." Erik couldn't help the slip, anger getting the better of him in the interaction.

Charles' expression shifted from shock to rage in a second and he was up. He came at Erik, howling "You abandoned me! You took her away and you abandoned me!"

Later Erik knew he should have taken them another direction, express his regret and hope that Charles could forgive him. But Erik hadn't ever been very level headed. He had nearly caused their plane to crash, drawing on the metal of the plane and forcing it off it's previous path some, startling his three companions greatly with the threat of possible death.

Erik approached Charles later, chessboard in his hands as a sort of peace offering. He figured it could be like old times, if only they could pretend for a moment. He wasn't sure if he expected Charles to refuse the game but he wasn't surprised either. He took note of the other mutant drinking, suspicion rising steadily but he made no comment other than the fact that he hadn't had a drink in almost ten years.

When he tried to apologize for what happened in Cuba Charles settled back farther from Erik, back pressed to his seat in a clear attempt to distance himself as possible from the memories. Charles finished his glass and refocused on the chess set before them, willing to play if it meant shutting Erik up for a bit.

He wanted to reconcile things with the other mutant if he could. He didn't know how things would go over later in Paris. Erik hadn't gone with the intention of killing Raven. it seemed the only way to keep their future safe, for all mutants. He didn't want to kill the woman he shared his secrets and life with years ago, but he could see no other way.

When he held the gun up to shoot Raven his vision blurred with tears, heartbroken by the conclusion he had come to. The look on Charles and Raven's faces didn't help, but still he pulled the trigger. He hadn't planned on becoming the bad guy yet again in DC, but things hadn't gone well. He didn't have the trust or patience to believe that humans could live alongside them like Charles had. When the drama ended, he was left alone with a hole through his neck and no one to turn to.

x x x x

Weeks had passed. Charles and Hank had gone back to the mansion and went about things more or less as though what had happened in Paris and DC hadn't occured. Raven was still gone. Erik was god knows where. They only had eachother once more and Charles turned quickly back to his old vices. Five years an addict and a few days saving the future of human and mutant kind alike did not make as large a dent in Charles' habits as Hank would have hoped. He knew, and he knew Charles knew, they had made a difference for the future. Btu in the present, nothing had changed.

Raven had set a mission for herself to find Logan. She had seen that the man meant something to Charles before, back in paris and she knew that Erik had sent the man off somewhere. Eventually she found him, waterlogged, coughing up water and gasping for air. She took custody of him and nursed him back to health in a hotel room, surprisingly it only took a day before he was perfectly fine. Then came the barrage of questions. Raven groaned, daunted by the task of refreshing the other mutant's memory and convince him to come back with her to New York.

Hank opened the door to the mansion when Raven knocked, his expression surprised when he saw her in her next-to-natural form, the form she had met Hank in and that she had taken regularly when growing up with Charles,

"Raven? What are you - is that Logan?" Hank pushed the door open wider and stepped out to see the man off in the distance, back to the door as he leaned, one hand on a tree.

"He's peeing," she sighed heavily, clearly spend, "lovely, your friend."

"Thanks? Logan! Stop that, we have a toilet you can use inside!"

"Where's Charles?" Raven pushed past Hank and inside. "What the hell happened here? I thought it was a school, but the sign is down and everything looks shit."

"School's been out for five years. Couldn't keep up with the war going on."

"Okay. Where's Charles?"

"You should wait here, okay?"

"He's in his room then." Raven moved past him and out of reach. "Go get Logan! Sheesh." She hurried upstairs while Hank deliberated, deciding he had to stop Logan from wandering off on his own before he lost himself to the wilderness that had become of the grounds.

"Charles?" Raven pushed the door open to the mutant's room as she said his name, having always forgotten to knock before entering his room. He had always been able to tell she was coming before though. She was struck with the sight of the man she had grown up with, empty syringe at his side, rubber tube still around his left arm, right hand holding a glass frozen before his lips as he stared back at Raven.

It took a moment for her to process what the scene before her meant. The whole time she stood in the doorway, staring, Charles had been unmoving, mind trying to race through the thick fog his drugs left behind.

Raven took in a slow breath, trying to keep it as even as she could. "What are you on?" She asked, her voice so calm it scared Charles. She'd never been so level headed.

"It's not… it's…" He swallowed hard, heart in his throat. "Something Hank made. Lets me walk…" His right hand lowered, drink forgotten for the time being.

"How much have you been drinking?" She glanced around, noting four empty bottles right off the bat.

"A lot."