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Italics and Quotation Marks: Telepathy and Normal Speech

Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness that is X-Men: First Class. Marvel and anyone else associated does. If I did, Charles and Erik would've sorted things out (or at least still have been best friends/close while 'enemies').


Lie in Wait

It's been a month since Cuba.

Since Shaw.

Since Charles lost his legs.

/\/\/\

It is difficult, at first.

Remembering each morning when he wakes that things are different now.

That the room beside his is void of the laughter, smile, and vibrancy he's come to know and love as his beloved adoptive sister.

That where he is always meant to find the hard and steadfast presence of his best friend, there is no one.

That with the nations of the world growing more and more hostile toward the 'mutant threat' every day, his lifelong dream both holds fast and trembles.

That in taking the children out to train on the mansion grounds, they have to look out for themselves and each other because he can no longer be with them.

That instead of standing on his own two feet and feeling a combination of cool wood and plush carpet beneath him, he must lower himself into a wheelchair and know naught but icy metal.

That, in the end, reality has to hit home sometime:

He will neverwalk again.

/\/\/\

But he's—he's grown used to it. Really and truly, he has.

His legs, unfeeling and useless as they are, cannot and do not hold him back. He won't let them.

For there are still more mutants out there, still more frightened children in need of guidance. And no matter what his physical condition or state of mind, no matter his own shortcomings or doubts, he will be there to help them.

(Because they so remind him of himself, of his dear Raven, of Erik.)

He can feel them out there, the faintest of unconscious whispers caressing the outermost reaches of his mind. Cerebro amplifies these inner voices into resounding waves of fear, creativity, destruction, longing, pain, and wonder, and this only makes him wish to find them—to save them—all the more.

In the quiet moments, he calls out to those close enough. Just barely, though, and never so much to scare them. Hank, sharp as he is, has suspected his endeavors and has offered time and again extended use of Cerebro, but Charles politely declines every time. He fears any further reach into their minds will do more harm than good.

He sticks with the far-yet-near approach. It isn't even that he's talking to them, not really. It's more…bathing them in tranquil, encouraging waters than anything else. Something to let them know that it's all right, that they're not freaks or queers or devils, that he's coming to offer them the chance to never be alone again.

This last he communicates above all else because he knows what that is. He knows what that crushing loneliness feels like, for that was his life before he met Raven, before he had someone like him in his life.

But more than anything he wants them to know true peace and companionship on intimate levels. He wants them to know happiness like they've never known it before, wants to keep the isolation and resentment and hate as far away from their innocent hearts as he can.

(Because he doesn't want them to be consumed and tainted as Erik was.)

And he swears, no matter what he has to do and no matter how far he has to go, his legs of all things will not keep him from being these kids' saving grace. They need him, and all Charles Xavier has ever wanted in his life is to be needed.

He will never let his legs hold him back.

Especially if it means keeping alive the memory of one Erik Lehnsherr.


He is sleeping deeply when he feels it, the wildfire at the back of his mind.

The emotions behind it – sorrow, guilt, terror, self-hatred, loss – are so great, the flashes of memories even more so—Charles' scream and collapse as Erik accidentally deflects the bullet into his spine, Erik pulling the bullet out of the telepath's body, Erik cradling Charles as the professor cries and tells the metal kinetic that he can't go with him, Erik breaking down when he learns of Charles' bullet-driven paralysis—that the telepath is literally jolted awake, heart racing and soaked in sweat.

For the first several seconds he is not sure where or even who he is, but given a few moments of taking in his surroundings and drinking in the pictures on his bedside table, he is soothed.

In his relief, however, the reason for his awakening comes back to him. And though he breathes deeply he is not entirely successful in keeping sudden tears from falling.

This is Erik, whose nightmares are so tender they are subconsciously reaching Charles. This is Erik,so tortured, so full of self-loathing, so wishing to end it all yet unable to bring himself to do so. This is Erik, body and mind and heart and soul…

And it is for this reason alone that he gets himself into his wheelchair at this ungodly hour, leaves a brief note for the kids, and sets out across oceans and continents.

Because nothing matters more in this instant than checking in on Erik and making sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

He's not in denial, no. He knows well they're enemies now. But God knows they were friends once—the best of closest friends—and Charles cannot stand even the thought of Erik in so much pain.

Much less because of him.

And for Erik, Charles will do anything.


This is enough for him.

This—seeing the calendar on Erik's wall, seeing today's date sliced to shreds on the floor, seeing dried blood and tear stains on the dresser just below—is enough to cause his head to fall back on the wheelchair's headrest and tears to burn his eyes.

Wheeling slowly over to Erik's bedside once he has mostly composed himself, Charles takes in his former best friend.

The metal kinetic's drenched in sweat, shaking almost feverishly, his expression is one of pure agony—are those tears streaming down his face…?—and he's muttering unintelligibly.

"Charles…" the telepath can just make out now, and he bites his lip as he listens, one hand gripping the sweaty bedclothes out of need for solid ground, "…Charles, please…" Erik's voice cracks, dare it be said pitifully, "…p-please, my friend, f-forgive me…" The younger man clutches at his hair and leans into the crook of his elbow as Erik can barely speak past the lump in his throat; Lord knows it takes everything-and-all to make the hardened metal kinetic cry, and fate would have Charles be the one thing to set him off. "I am so, so sorry… It's all my fault…m-my fault…" Erik is openly sobbing now, body convulsing and breathing so erratic it's a wonder he hasn't started choking yet, and Charles doesn't think he can bear anymore. "G-gun… Le-legs… Charles…!"

All at once the telepath recalls far too vividly the final memory from Erik's nightmare, and when in this he feels ready to shatter,Charles knows he has reached his breaking point.

And breathes.

It is more of a gasp in essence, shaky and louder than intended, and the professor must bite his tightly-closed fist to prevent a sob from escaping his mouth. The trembling and tears are enough to deal with.

After collecting himself as well as he is able under the circumstances, Charles wipes his eyes and face on his sleeve and works on breathing as evenly and quietly as possible. He'll need his full concentration for this to go off without a hitch.

Reaching out with one hand while the other stays poised at his temple, Charles' fingertips splay feather-lightly across Erik's forehead. Ordinarily, he wouldn't need to be in direct contact, but as the older man is in such bad shape and his mind-blocks might dismiss him otherwise, Charles can see no better way to get through to him.

Closing his eyes with a note of finality even he can't quite name, he concentrates on the man that was and somewhere in his heart always will be his best friend. Pushing past Erik's barriers—his Mother and Father being torn from him, his Mother being shot, his torture at Shaw's hands, 214782…a happy memory of his Mother and Father together, he and his Mother lighting the candelabra, Charles saving him from drowning, unlocking his full potential thanks to Charles' help—the telepath can do no more as he reaches the central core of Erik's mind.

And, effectively, his heart.

When he speaks, he is sure to use both his telepathic and audible voices. Just in case one doesn't quite reach him.

When he speaks, he breathes absolution in its truest form.

When he speaks, he ensures that no matter what happens between them, Erik will know he's loved.

"Sleep, my friend."


It is bright-and-early morning when Erik finally wakes.

Bolting upright, his eyes dart everywhere at once, any and all metal objects in the room ready to be of service.

But he finds nothing. Not an object, not a creature, not a soul. Nothing at all.

So when at long last he takes a split second to calm down and register that his clothes and sheets are damp with sweat, that his throat feels like it's been rubbed raw, and that his face is salty and wet…

He remembers the soft, gentle, tender voice that came to him in the night, that touched both his mind and his heart, and lets loose a sob of a laugh.

Glancing from side-to-side as peace-wrought tears gather in his green-turning-black eyes, Erik's gaze zeroes in on his dresser nearest the door.

It has been cleaned since yesterday morning, all evidence of blood and tears gone from the dark wood.

And just above it, painstakingly taped back together instead of slashed into the tiniest pieces manageable as he'd left it, is yesterday's date.

"Thank you, Charles."


A/N: This is my first fanfiction for this fandom, but I couldn't resist! I just love this movie and these characters (who I see as brothers and best friends, by the way, but to each his own; this may be interpreted as you wish) so much!

That said, I really hope I got their characters right! It's been several weeks since I've seen the film, so please tell me if you see characterization mistakes! Thanks!

*Note about Charles' direct contact: Past circumstances and slight speculation, but I'd count Charles lucky that Erik's slumbering so deeply here, even if for a sad reason. Any other day, and he'd surely have lost an arm (pondering Erik's perhaps-militaristic, war-survival training). XD

*Note about Erik's 'green-turning-black eyes': It might just be me, but I thought I noticed a time during the satellite scene where the tears in Erik's eyes seemed to make his green eyes turn black... I may have been seeing things, but I thought it was a cool visual anyway. XP

Thanks so much for reading!