So this was initially a one-shot in my Thought of That series, but it seems to be growing into its own whole story. So, here it is.

Takes place a couple of years after First Class.

They're in a cemetery. A normal, ordinary, packed cemetery because, after serious thought, Charles doesn't think it's a good idea to start a separate cemetery for mutants somewhere. That will only suggest to the kids that more will die.

Besides, George loved fitting in, loved humans, loved normal… he would have wanted it this way.

While the coffin is being lowered Charles hears a soft pop from the trees beyond the cemetery. As if a flashbulb is going off.

But he knows immediately it's not a flashbulb.

None of the new kids will know what the sound means, but he glances to Hank and sees him sniffing the air, tight and alert. Alex, too, has noticed; grief has been put aside for the moment and his fists are clenched and he's moving closer to the kids at his left, as though to protect them.

Charles reaches out with his mind but feels nothing; the teleporter is gone and hasn't brought anyone else with him. The only person he has brought is blocked – and Charles would know that block anywhere.

He waits, tense, but the priest drones on and nothing terrifying materializes from out of the trees. So he manages to wait out the ceremony before going to investigate. "Alex, take everyone home," he says quietly. "Hank: will you push me?"

"It's Erik. I smell him."

"I know – but he's alone. I'll talk to him."

Hank takes him to the edge of the trees and yes, there is Erik – dressed like some kind of bizarre space captain. And trailing a red cape.

One look at his face tells Charles that this is not a good time to remind him that you're supposed to show up to funerals in a plain dark suit. But he doesn't look violent, exactly, and so Charles speaks into Hank's mind. If he planned to attack us he'd have done it already. I'll talk to him alone – go wait by the grave site, please.

"I don't want to leave you," Hank answers aloud. "Not with him."

"It's all right. Go."

Only once Hank is gone does Erik unfreeze himself. He goes down on one knee by Charles's chair and says to him, growling it from under his helmet: "Why didn't you call me?"

It is not the greeting Charles was expecting. "What?"

"Why didn't you call me!" Erik repeats, almost snarling. "I could have stopped them. I would have torn them limb from limb for daring to even think of violence against your school."

"Erik," Charles begins gently. This is a funeral, he plans to say. It's not the time for political speeches.

But Erik doesn't wait that long. "Or is that why?" he presses. "You didn't call me because you knew what I would do. Because their lives – stupid, pointless human lives – are worth more to you than the lives of your own students. Is that it? It's-"

Charles silences him with a right hook. One of the handful of benefits that comes of a wheelchair is fantastic upper body strength, and Erik sprawls facefirst into the dirt. It takes him a while to rise, and when he does the growl is gone from his voice. "I shouldn't have said that," he admits quietly.

"For your information, I would do the same things for the students that you would," Charles tells him. He clears his throat but still his voice shakes. "I killed four people that night – I killed people, Erik – and the only reason it didn't make the news is I wiped the minds of the survivors so they had no idea what happened or who it happened to. As soon as their supervisors read their blank reports and figure out who's missing they will put two and two together, and they'll return."

Erik looked down at the ground. "Why are you telling me this? Are you going to let me come home with you? I can help defend the place. I swear they won't get near you with guns or cars again."

"No." Charles sighed. "In an all-out pitched battle over the school, people will die – humans and mutants. And in the long run we have no chance; we're full of children and even assuming you and I could keep any soldiers or weapons away, we have no defense against a siege." He took a long, slow breath. Spelling it out to Erik helped, and now the decision he and Hank made last night feels correct and inevitable. "We're going to have to leave. And quickly."

Erik still doesn't look up from his feet. "Fine. Then still, let me help you. With me you can save what would be most difficult to replace – I can move Cerebro with a wave of my hand."

After a long moment Charles nods. The ground is muddy and uneven and he doesn't feel like trying to navigate it alone, so he says: "Would you mind pushing me back over there? Otherwise I'll have to holler for Hank, and I hate doing that. He's not a puppy."

"Of course." Erik's voice is thick again. Safe behind the wheelchair, where he can't be seen, he finally says: "Charles, you haven't asked me to take off my helmet."

Charles doesn't know what he's supposed to say to that.

Eventually Erik manages to continue: "You could. We're not enemies."

"I know that."

"Then… then why didn't you call me?" he growls. "Did you think I wouldn't come? Of course I would come, you know I love that place, all of you, that I would never refuse just because we… Charles, why?"

This is going to hurt, Charles knows, but he can't think of a persuasive lie. So he tells the truth. "You didn't even occur to me." Erik chokes but can't find words, and Charles persists gently: "We're a long time away from three years ago, Erik. Things have changed."

TBC.

Let me know what you think so far!