Wings Of A Butterfly - chapter six
--// back//--
--//chapter six//--
6//1
Erik wakes up in the middle of the night, not used to another person beside him, the unfamiliar warmth burning into his back.
They have moved during the night, Erik now lying with his back turned to Charles, and Charles pressed against him.
Spooning him.
It feels good, ridiculously so, being engulfed in the other man's warmth, his complete trust.
His love.
Erik can't take a single second more of this.
He untangles himself carefully, swift, precise movements, until he's out of the bed and in his clothes, leaving the room that still smells of them. Leaving Charles behind.
His feet take him to the chess room, far away from everyone, far enough from Charles who's still reaching out in his dreams, whose mind is still grazing Erik's.
He'd missed that feeling.
God, how much he'd missed that.
It's only minutes later when Erik hears the sound of feet on the floor in the corridors, finding him in that room.
"You couldn't sleep?" Charles asks quietly.
He's standing by the door, in nothing but Erik's robe, and the sight is breaking Erik's heart, filling him with a burning anger, because it hurts. It hurts, and Charles Xavier shouldn't be able to hurt him like this anymore. Not after all these years.
"What was your plan?" Erik asks coldly; his voice a sharp contrast to Charles' tone.
Erik can't look at him, doesn't want to see the moment Charles catches on.
Charles makes few steps towards him and then stops, as if their distance couldn't be crossed by walking. "What are you talking about, Erik?" He sounds on edge and confused, and Erik knows that he's about to break Charles once again.
Just like himself.
It's who they are. Bound to be their saviors. And their killers.
Erik looks up, turns his eyes to the wall. "You should have killed me when you had the chance," he says, repeats.
"Erik."
"Turn around," Charles thinks and he's louder in Erik's head, stronger, more painful. "Please."
Erik does. Slowly, meeting Charles' eyes dead on.
"Erik," Charles gasps, and the name sounds different now, like he's using it for a different person. From a different time.
"I jumped with you," Erik says flatly.
"What was your plan?" he asks again, because he needs to know, had wanted to know from the second he found out that Charles had found Bethany. That he had found a way to go back. "Saving Darwin? Keeping Raven at your side? Showing me the alternative? The family we could have been? Or was it to lure me into your bed?" He spits the last words out and his lips smile, but it's cold and painful, the smile not reaching his eyes.
Color starts spreading over Charles' cheeks, his hands clenching into fists.
He stares at Erik for an endless time, every single emotion clear enough on his face for everyone to see.
But it's only Erik who sees him fall apart in front of him.
Who sees the betrayal, the crushed hope. The helplessness.
The strongest mutant among their kind, as Erik still believes, and he watches him break by simple spoken words.
"I would never," he starts, but he doesn't finish. Charles looks down and closes his eyes, as if it's too painful for him to look at Erik. "Falling ... for you, was not part of the plan," he whispers.
Erik wants to believe him so badly, he almost starts forward; the need to hold Charles like a physical ache. Even so, he doesn't move. This is about more than that, more than just them.
“Why?" Erik catches his friend's gaze. "Why all this? Why do you keep fighting?”
Charles’ smile is bitter, but honest. “I have to. Erik, I have to.”
Erik wants to throttle him, to make him see the truth in front of him he’s turning blind eyes to. "America has never seen a black president. “Don’t ask, don’t tell” is still standard procedure in the military. And yet you still believe this nation is ready to accept us?" Erik can feel his anger bleeding through, can hear the metal around them singing, already vibrating with anticipation.
Charles flicks his tongue over his lips, frowning. "Give them time, Erik. All mankind needs is enough time."
"They've already had forty years of our lives!"
His last word echoes through the room, bouncing off the walls. Making their distance seem bigger.
"Why?" he asks again, the question burning in his mind. “Why did you take this risk? You can lose more than just an enemy, my friend.”
Charles smiles, his eyes empty. “You’re not my enemy, Erik.”
He takes a breath, goes on. "You said it yourself. The first time. You need me by your side," Charles eyes dart up at him, utterly broken. "I feel the same. I believe that, with you by my side, on our side, the world could be a better place. I could be a better man."
Erik swallows, can't contain his composure a second longer. He takes a few steps towards his friend, Charles not backing away, even after everything he learned.
"You didn't come back for Darwin? For Raven?" He can't quite believe it, even though the guilt in Charles' eyes tell him that he's right. "You came back for me?"
6//2
Alex tries his best to be downstairs before everyone else, sneaking out of Darwin's room and back into his, having a shower and putting on fresh clothes, before anyone notices what's been going on.
He's about to sigh in relief when he meets Sean in the kitchen, the other boy wearing a huge grin on his face.
Alex' face turns red immediately, blood rushing into his cheeks, and for a minute he contemplates turning around and running like a little kid.
Sean obviously notices his discomfort; his expression morphs into a frown. "Dude," he shrugs. "Works for me. All the more ladies for the Banshee."
Alex is too stunned to speak.
Sean gives him another grin before turning away and closing the door to the fridge. Only now Alex notices that he's trying to balance a box of cereal, a bowl, a milk carton and a spoon to the kitchen table.
He's still frozen to the spot, practically gaping at Sean, when the others stroll in.
Raven shoots him a side glance, smiles misteriously when their eyes meet. Moira doesn't seem to notice anything different, and goes about her usual breakfast routine without even so much as glancing at Alex.
He still feels as though what he has done is tattooed on his forehead, like he looks different today.
Like he is a new person.
Alex swallows heavily.
The professor is the worst. He doesn't seem to see anybody else when he comes in, walking to his chair without a greeting, without even looking at them. He starts eating, not noticing that they're not all here yet.
For a moment, Alex forgets his own issues and wonders what happened last night that put that look on the professor's face. He wonders where the hell Erik is.
"Alex?" Raven smiles up at him, waving her hand. "Sit down and grab something to eat. You must be really hungry this morning." Her face gives nothing away, but Sean snorts next to her, almost spraying his milk over the table.
Moira looks up at that, her eyes flying between the teenagers at the table, and Alex hurries to his seat, not wanting to draw any more attention.
"Where the hell is Hank?" Sean wonders out loud between two spoons full of cereal.
The table goes quiet. "Charles?" Raven asks, her voice having a tiny edge.
"Yes?" The professor looks up as if he's just noticing everyone else in the room.
"Where's Hank?" Raven asks again, obviously smart enough not to ask her brother where Erik was too.
The professor doesn't answer immediately. He tilts his head a little, his hand hovering in midair as if he wanted to put a finger to his temple and then forgot all about it.
He coughs, swallows, and Alex sees him go pale. "I forgot about Hank," he whispers to himself, which makes no sense to Alex at all, but then the professor's eyes go back to his food. "He won't be joining us for breakfast," he says loud enough for everyone to hear.
And that's it. The professor says nothing more, doesn't explain anything.
Alex and Sean trade a questioning glance and Raven looks as if she wants to ask more but then decides against it.
"Mornin'," another voice says and Alex feels ridiculous as his stomach flutters when Darwin walks into the kitchen. He bluhes furiously, feels his face heat up even more when their eyes meet, and Darwin throws him a quick, private smile over the table.
"Okay, how's that fair?" Sean exclaims." "I look like death warmed over when all I actually did yesterday was sleeping and this guy..." He waves a hand at Darwin," looks like he's been resting for a whole week, when clearly he wasn't getting much sleep at all."
This time it's Raven who sputters and almost chokes on her food and Alex simply wants the floor to open and swallow him up.
6//3
Charles stares down at the box marked with the X. He doesn't want to open it, knowing that he has to. Time is running out; he feels it with every beat of his heart. Memories are already overlapping, things changing in the future that make his memories blurry and untrue.
He can feel the pull of the present already, demanding him back.
With Erik here with him now, the real Erik, his Erik; weeks became days; Logan's strength not enough to keep the two of them longer in this moment.
Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
His hand reaches for the the box.
Hank looks at them, fur covering all of his face, his eyes almost completly yellow.
Erik is with them now, joining them once again for their final battle.
Charles almost can't breathe in his suit.
Charles catches Erik's eyes over the open bomb bay doors, Sean at his side, ready to jump. He pulls his focus away from the other man, concentrating on Sean for this one precious moment.
There's still everything at stake, still nothing won yet.
Charles heart aches only more when he watches Erik following Sean's every move, prepared to help him if he's needed, as the young boy jumps with a loud scream.
Their minds connect easily. Now that the secrets have gone, Charles is choking on the power traveling between them, making them both stronger, making them both something far more powerful than either of them alone will ever reach.
Charles doesn't close his eyes this time, just keeps them firmly locked on Erik, watching the other man raising the submarine from the bottom of the sea.
It's mind-blowing, their connection growing, cementing, and Charles knows that he's on the verge to become addicted to this. To Erik.
To them.
Charles should have known.
That no matter what he did or said, they would always end up at this point.
Erik would always be the one in the submarine, searching for Shaw, and Charles connected to his mind.
By his side.
Even forty years and a hundred of bad decisions didn't change anything for them.
Charles is leaning against the wall of the plane, one finger tipped to his temple, because this is hard, the hardest thing he had ever done. The first time he had been following Erik blindly, concerned about his safety but this time...
... this time he's following him knowing what will come, what Erik will do.
Or better yet, what they will do together.
"Ready?" Erik asks inside his mind and Charles can see how he's watching the door to the hidden room, the one Shaw will open any second now.
"No," Charles tells him truthfully.
"We have to do this, Charles," Erik reminds him, and for a moment Charles is sure that there's regret in his voice.
"I know."
The sky is dark above them, missiles, bombs - every powerful, deadly threat human kind is so proud of cluttering the air, swimming like clouds above them.
Erik is keeping them there.
And Charles can see it on his face clear as day, that once again his fingers twitch with the ache to turn them around, to let them just fall back on the humans he hates so much.
He hesitates this time.
Age and years not changing his view but making him consider, making him think of the consequences.
"Please, Erik, don't do it," Charles pleads with him anyway. "A massacre is not gonna help any of us."
Erik moves his head, his eyes locking with Charles'.
"I will never understand, how after all these years, you're still fighting for them."
His words are dancing between them, deepening the gap. Erik will never understand and Charles will never be able to make him understand.
Charles knows that now, knows that trying to change anything between them this way, is the wrong one.
"Release them!" a voice cuts through their silence, Moira walking up to Erik, her gun raised.
Sheer panic rushes through Charles' veines at the sight of it. He had forgotten about the gun, had forgotten what it will do to him.
But then Erik sneers at her, eyeing the weapon.
"You believe you can use that against me?" Erik blinks, once, twice, and the trigger moves without Moira touching it.
Nothing happens.
"No bullets," Charles gasps, not able for any other reaction than this.
Erik's gaze meets his. "I'm no fool, Charles. I learn from my mistakes."
The sky is on fire suddenly, one missile exploding, Erik obviously losing focus for a moment, and then the air is loud and thick with dust, metal raining down around them.
Charles can't say anything, can't react to Erik's words, when a sudden sharp pain bites through his back.
6//4
Time stops. Everything stops.
Erik feels a scream building up in his throat, feels anger, fury, hatred, guilt - feels all that colliding, twitching, crashing into each other to build something new, something darker. Something more dangerous.
Just like the last time.
Only this time he knows what it means the second he sees Charles being spun around by the power of the impact.
"NO!" Erik screams and runs to Charles, runs to his friend, as he falls; face set in a silent scream; silent where Erik is loud, his body broken where Erik's heart is shattering into pieces.
"No, Charles, no!" Erik kneels in the sand, cradling Charles in his arms, feeling for the metal immediately He draws it out of the soft, breakable body as if it was gliding through butter.
But the damage is done.
Erik knows that with a dreadful certainty.
"No, no, no," he chants, over and over, his voice thick with grief and denial. Erik doesn't even realize that he's saying it until Charles' eyes meet his and Charles' hand on his silences him.
"This wasn't supposed to happen this time," Erik whispers.
He ignores the missiles exploding around them, falling dead into the ocean. He doesn't spare a thought for the men - Russians and Americans - uniting to fight against him, them, the mutants.
Everything else doesn't matter.
"I was going to prevent this, Charles," Erik presses Charles' hand; he's probably hurting him, but Charles doesn't complain, doesn't say anything.
Just keeps holding on.
"Out of everything, this was the one thing I wanted to make right." Erik is choking now, on tears and guilt, so much guilt. He failed, again. Has failed his friend.
Charles smiles weakly, draws in a pained breath. "It seems as if fate isn't that easy to trick, Erik."
Erik goes out of his mind.
Metal is singing all around him, whispering to him like a hearbeat, shifting, waiting for his command.
All it will take is one more thread to snap. Erik is so close to losing it.
"Charles," he says again, not caring how he sounds: broken and whimpering. It just can't happen again.
Charles squirms in his hold, trying to move, and Erik wills him to stay still; holds him closer, tighter, until Charles lift a hand to Erik's face.
Erik can't help but lean into the touch.
"We don't have much time," Charles whispers, and he looks stricken, unbearably sad. "I failed."
Erik shakes his head, wants Charles to understand. "No. No, you didn't. Darwin is alive because of you. You saved a life."
"I couldn't safe you."
"But don't you understand," Erik pleads with him. "No one can safe me. Not even you."
Charles shakes his head slowly. "No my friend, you're wrong. And I will find a way," he whispers, and Erik is so angry at him, so angry for not giving up on him, and he's exploding with it, exploding with the deep seated trust Charles keeps showing him.
Erik grits his teeth and says nothing.
Around him the missiles have stopped exploding. It's eareely quiet now.
"Would you forgive the weakness of an old man, Erik?" Charles catches his gaze again and Erik can see that something is tormenting him - something other than all the madness around them.
"Charles?"
Charles braces himself; appears to be taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to know."
Erik's world narrows down to the man in his arms as he watches him struggle to breathe, struggle to find the words. "Anything. Just ask me!"
And Erik wonders if his world has been like this since he met Charles, since he was pulled out of the water by a blue-eyed man who had more trust in the world than Erik hatred in his heart.
Focues on Charles. Tuned in to that one person.
"Erik, am I ... am I the only one?"
Erik swallows heavily, his heart burning in his chest. He hates that Charles even feels the need to ask - that he was scared to do so.
"No." Erik grips him tighter, locking their gazes, and opens his mind so that Charles will never have any doubt about this.
He can feel the moment Charles enters his mind, just like he always could, and he shares the wonder and relief when Charles finds what Erik had kept buried like a treasure inside him for so long.
"You're not alone, Charles. You're not alone."
6//5
The pain doesn't vanish suddenly. When Charles blinks again, they're back. Thousands of miles and dozens of years back in a future he doesn't know anymore. Doesn't want anymore.
He's lying on the floor and his back hurts in a way he hasn't felt in fourty years. But the pain is already easing slowly, ebbing away with every breath Charles takes.
He looks around and finds Erik sitting on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall.
He's breathing heavily, his face is pale.
Their eyes meet.
There are more people in the room, staring at them, talking to them. Charles knows that distantly, but he only has eyes for Erik; the old man who's looking at him like he is the only thing in the world that really matter.
Charles' heart breaks a second time.
He blinks, turns his head away because it's too painful; he failed yet again and he can't look his failure in the eyes anymore. Erik will leave again, be on the other side again.
Erik is lost.
To him. To the world.
Charles clenches his jaw. His legs are numb. The ghost of feeling is gone, and he shifts awkwardly, trying to find a position on the floor that doesn't hurt his back.
There's something nudging at his hip and then he's being lifted, floating through the air like he is nothing, weightless, and then he's sat back into his chair, the cold metal framing his body.
Charles can't help but look up, and he finds Erik standing, finds Magneto looking at him, his hand tilted just a small fraction, his eyes full of regret.
"Professor!" another voice finally cuts through, and it's Logan looking between him and Magneto, his eyes wild and uncertain. Next to him is Hank, shielding Bethany and her mother behind him, and he's staring at Raven, eyes wide and mouth gaping.
Not even a full minute seems to have passed; Erik and Charles jumping back right where they left.
Charles own eyes fall on Raven now. She's in her blue form, gracefully standing next to Erik, and Charles wonders how he ever could fail to notice her incredible beauty. How he couldn't see the sadness lingering in her eyes whenever she looked at him.
He can see it now. He can feel it now.
Raven is as lost to him as she always was. And he wonders which of them is more grieved by that.
"Professor!" Logan shouts once again, ready to fall into action, his whole body thrimming with untamed energy.
Charles's eyes meet Erik's again, still silently communicating.
"Let them go," Charles tells Logan, not once moving his gaze away from his old friend.
"But Prof..."
"Please," he interrupts Logan quietly.
Logan falls silent.
There's an odd energy filling the room, charged high with buzzing adrenaline, but Erik and Raven turn quietly around, walking through the door and leaving, their footsteps echoing in the hall.
"Professor, are you alright?" Hank steps forward, his voice recovering its strength.
Charles nods. There's nothing else to do. Even if it's the cruelest lie he has ever told.
"Let's go home, please."
6//6
"Professor?"
Her voice is quiet and careful and Charles finds a small, uncertain smile on her face when he turns around to find Marie at his door.
"Yes?" He offers her a small smile of his own; it's all that he's capable of right now.
He mourns.
And it feels worse than the first time, when he had all the anger and disappointment to hold on to.
This time, he only tries to breathe against the crushing weight of the emptiness inside him.
"You've got a visitor," Marie tells him, and he doesn't need to read her mind to realize how long it must have taken her to decide if she even wanted to disturb him for the news.
"Alex," Charles says, reading it in her thoughts without meaning to, and a new energy grips him. Familiar footsteps approach and Marie slips out of the room, trading places with the fair haired young man.
"Hey, Professor."
Alex's grin is wide and fresh, so honest and young, it makes Charles' heart ache. It's good to see him; very good.
He doesn't look a day older than when Charles had last seen him. Forty years ago.
"Hey, man," another man swaggers into the room, mirroring the smile on Alex's face.
"Darwin." Charles can barely hide his surprise, but he manages to keep from openly staring.
Of course: Darwin lived.
In this world, Darwin is alive.
Charles doesn't really remember the small changes they made - and the important ones are only coming back to him slowly, like long forgotten memories.
"You both look good," Charles smiles at them. "Young." He shakes both their hands, holding them in his for a moment.
"Well, I promised the whole growing old together thing," Alex says, but his eyes rest on his friend, his partner. "And that's a damn hardship when he doesn't age one bit."
The two men share a private glance; Charles almost feeling like he's intruding.
Then Darwin rolls his eyes, facing him again. "Well, it's actually Hank helping us out. I don't know what we'd do without him."
Alex nods. "We owe Beast a lot, actually."
Charles takes a deep breath, savoring the feel of his heart swelling with happiness. The young man keep talking, telling Charles about their journey here, about home and the things they've seen, the people they've met.
It aches to listen to them, aches seeing them; but in a good way - a healing way.
"Alright, professor," Darwin announces, clapping Alex on his chest. "We've taken up enough of your time, already."
Charles smiles again, sensing a sudden change in Alex, a hesitation.
The young man takes a deep breath.
"You think my brother's ready to greet some visitors?"
Alex looks at him and suddenly Charles can see it - the age in his eyes, a new maturity.
He is not longer the same troubled adolescent, trying to find his place in the world. Too many things have happened.
Charles nods. "I think Scott will be delighted to see you, Alex."
"Come on," Darwin spurs him on. "We traveled ten hours so you could be there for him. I think you let him wait long enough now." He nods to Charles, pushing the other man gently out of the room.
"Thank you," Charles hears, and only then realizes, that Alex hadn't said it out loud. He catches the look on Alex's face, and knows that there's more layers of meaning there than the words could ever contain.
--// next// masterpost//--