Dear Erik,

You probably hate me, you have probably hated me for years. I wouldn't blame you, truly I wouldn't. I myself have tried to hate you so many times, more often than I can count...and I cannot manage it. You have my eternal love, Erik, whether you want it or not. I can't take it away however much I try, however often we face each other on the field of battle. I love you Erik. I have ever since we met. Your mind was a maze and your anger was all consuming, but you had such a great potential for love locked away inside you. I hope it wouldn't be too presumptuous to ask you to keep searching for it.

I'm scared Erik. There's a virus running through my veins, a virus specially designed to kill mutants. Please don't go on a rampage when you read this; it wasn't a human who did this to me. It was a mutant, a mutant evolved to kill whoever she desired, a perfect weapon from some despotic African state. I'm at the mansion now, locked away in my study with the X-Men hammering at the door. Hank is searching for a cure, but even a genius can't undo death in 12 minutes. I'm scared. I always thought I was ready to die, but I'm not.

12 minutes Erik. If I could, I'd call you, but you've never had a phone for more than a day, and for good reason I suppose. What I wouldn't give to hear your voice right now.

Thank you for coming with me the first time we met. Thank you for the endless debates about your manners, and all of those hard fought chess games. Thank you for those German lessons where you laughed at my terrible accent.

Thank you for waking me up from nightmares of other people's fears. Thank you for understanding everything I couldn't say.

11 minutes now. My hands are shaking, but I think that's from sheer terror. I want to be Socrates, I want to calmly go outside and bid all my students goodbye, but I can't. It'll terrify them to see me scared like this; I can't let my fear stop them being the X-Men. They do a lot of good Erik, for all you see them as turncoats and traitors. Don't kill them, don't you dare. I'll haunt you for the rest of your life if you do, I swear it.

Scott is shouting for me now, and Jean is battering against my mental shields looking for reassurance. Reassurance that I can't give her; no, she needs to stay out -there's no way I can hide my emotions from her as I die. I can hear Warren's wings knocking over vases in agitation, and Bobby already sounds like he's crying. I don't want to leave them Erik.

I don't want to leave you, either.

10 minutes. There are so many things I could do in 10 minutes, and here I am writing a letter. I hope this gets to you, really I do. The X-Men probably won't like the contents, but my friends, please find a way to deliver this to Magneto. Yes, he's a dickhead, and yes, he'll probably treat you with a ridiculous amount of suspicion if you try to give him something from me, but please do your best.

9. Never have I been so scared of a number, and I've faced plenty of ticking clocks over the years. Remember the anticipation before Cuba? I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest I was so scared. Nuclear war. That threat has abated a little over the years, but I still have nightmares, my own nightmares, about the possibility.

8 minutes left.

Thank you for looking after Raven in your own, bizarre way. Thank you for caring for my sweet, darling sister even when I couldn't. She's such a free spirit, she never belonged in a cage. I can see now how this mansion was as much a jail for her as any cell has ever been. At least she can escape prison without guilt. Raven, you will forever be my little sister. Live your life as you please my dear, I won't be around anymore to judge you. Not that I could have, but the fact remains.

6 minutes. Where did 7 go? I can't tell if my lungs are seizing from panic or something worse.

I don't want to die.

Please God, don't let me die.

5 minutes now. Thank you for the arguments about who drank the last of the good wine. Thank you for complimenting my eyes, my power, how I looked in a suit.

Thank you for showing me a rare, kind, open smile.

4 minutes. I'm sorry if the ink is smudged, but I can't seem to stop crying. What a life we could've had together Erik, what a school and a haven for our kind we could've created. Everything I have done seems like a pale mockery to what could have been.

Thank you for eating my broccoli in restaurants. Stupid miniature green trees. I still don't understand why anyone would want to eat them.

3 minutes. Your cape is really stupid you know. What purpose does it even have other than to billow pretentiously behind you? And magenta Magneto, really? A colour scheme is never really a good idea, especially in such a bold, monochrome fashion. If you're still running around menacing people in the future, change it to black. Please, for the sake of people's eyes everywhere. Even you can't make pink scary.

2 minutes. I'm only 32 years old, and I have so much left to do in this world. There's the X-Men and the school and mending ties with you and setting up a Mutants' Rights Board in the government and-

I guess I'll have to hope someone else gets around to it.

My will is in the top drawer of my desk. The contents probably won't surprise anyone but the recipients, but I take my amusement where I can get it.

1 minute.

Raven, I love you. Hank, Scott, Jean, Bobby, Warren, keep doing what you're doing. Consider yourselves my legacy if you wish.

Erik, your helmet is dick-shaped. It's kept me amused for years now, but I suppose now is my last chance to tell you.

Erik, just like your helmet, you are also a giant dick. And I love you.

Yours always,

Charles Xavier.

This was written in 12 minutes and is un-beta'd to try and make it more honest. It's not as sad as I was going for, but I quite like it in the end.