XMen Big Bang: Nothing kills more than to know (Part Two)
Title: Nothing kills more than to know
Pairing: Charles Xavier/Adam Lambert/Erik Lehnsherr, background Rictor/Gav (Shatterstar)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~21000
Summary: Sequel to The more things change. It had been more than year since Erik had been gone. Gone from Charles’ mind, from his home and from his bed, but never from his thoughts.
A year after the beach, Charles has the school up and running, welcoming new students with Adam at his side. Erik has never been far from his mind, but lately he's been closer than ever, clear images of Erik coming to the mansion flashing in Charles' mind. What does Erik want, after all this time? Charles' doesn't know, but together with Adam, Hank and the new students, he has to be ready for anything, as much as it might hurt.
Notes: Written for the xmenbigbang. Title taken from Adam Lambert's Can't let you go. This is mainly in the XMFC verse, however there are a few added characters from the comics verse. Ororo (Storm), Rictor, and Monet St Croix are fairly clear, and I've also introduced Shatterstar, who I've called Gav, taking his name from one of his aliases, Gavandra Seven. Rictor and Shatterstar have a great relationship in the comics, and I couldn't resist bringing it over! If you're not a comic fan, don't worry! I don't think there's anything in here that would be confusing, and I've certainly taken creative liberties with the characters' histories. The same can be said for those of you who may not be Adam Lambert fans. You don't need to know anything about him other than what I've included, and I think he could be read as an OMC without much trouble.
As always, I need to thank my beta janesgravity, but I need to thank her even more than usual! I needed to be dug out from more than one pile of my own melodrama during the writing of this, and if it wasn't for her, I'd still be buried! Thanks also goes to Acey who provided a much needed third set of eyes! <3
And finally, thanks to vertrauen for providing me with a lovely fan mix to go with this story!
Weeks passed, somehow crawling and flying by at the same time. Charles didn’t have a single vision of Erik, not even a flash, and he was beginning to think that he’d misunderstood what the images in his mind had meant. He didn’t stop the training, didn’t tell anyone other than Adam that he was beginning to doubt what he’d seen. He didn’t stop thinking about what would happen if and when Erik did come, not for a second, and when he finally came, it wasn’t at all like Charles had imagined. He’d spent the last several weeks drafting scenarios in his head, every way possible that Erik could burst into the mansion. He imagined Erik charging over the lawn, like he had in Russia, his new team following behind him, tornadoes swirling towards the house. He imagined Erik coming alone, his power making the door swing open ahead of him, stepping fiercely into the foyer, his jaw set as the chandeliers rattled with a flick of his finger. Late at night, Charles allowed himself to imagine Erik coming to the doors of the bedroom that opened onto the lawn, rapping gently on the glass before stepping lightly through the door. In Charles’ mind, the light framed Erik’s body, and he stood there silently until Charles lifted his arms and beckoned him forward.
In all the weeks and all the scenarios that Charles had imagined, it never occurred to him that Erik would just pull up to the bottom of the drive in a car that even Charles thought looked expensive, and step out like he was coming home. Charles watched through the window with a knot deep in his gut as Erik straightened his clothes, making sure the helmet was still settled on top of his head as he started up the drive toward the mansion. He didn’t even make it halfway before Charles heard the front door of the mansion slam, seconds later seeing Adam stride down the drive, anger radiating off of him in waves. From this distance, he couldn’t hear what Adam was saying, but the air around him crackled red and black like smoke as he shouted, his fists held firm at his side and Charles could see the effort it was taking to hold back as much as he was.
Charles opened his mind as he started towards the door, Adam’s anger almost stopping him in his tracks. He had never felt him this angry, had never felt this kind of anger from anyone but Erik before, and it shocked him into momentary stillness. Adam’s thoughts were so jumbled Charles’ nearly couldn’t make sense of them, seeing flashes of frustration and rage and love all mixed up into an emotional storm. He still couldn’t touch Erik’s mind, but he could tell that Erik wasn’t responding the way Adam had expected him to, or maybe even wanted him to. Adam had stormed out looking for a fight, and for once, Erik wasn’t giving one.
Adam’s emotions swirled and boiled inside of Charles’ head, spinning tighter and tighter until they burst outward in a ball of light, and Charles pushed his wheels as fast as he could, reaching the front door of the mansion just in time to swing it open and see Erik flying backwards, a ball of yellow light just starting to dissipate.
“Isn’t this what you came here for? A fight? Why else would you come back after this all time?” Adam’s face was flushed bright red, and his fingers were flexed, muscles in his forearms twitching as he stepped closer. “Answer me!”
Charles watched as Erik licked his lips, and he could see the fight inside of him, imagined he could hear the thrumming of metal around him as his power reached out. “I didn’t come here for a fight, Adam. If I had, you would certainly know it by now.”
“Then why did you come? We’re fine without you, Charles and I.” Adam’s voice was low now, not yelling anymore, the fight starting to drain out of him. His temper burned hot and fast, but he could never sustain it for long, especially not when his feelings were as muddled as Charles could feel they were.
A few long moments passed in silence on the lawn, and Charles could sense all the students watching and waiting, ready to use what they’d learned in the past weeks if necessary. Charles too held his breath, needing to hear Erik’s answer as much as Adam did.
“I came because...because perhaps I’m not fine.” Erik’s words were so quiet they didn’t reach Charles’ ears, and he only heard them through Adam’s mind. He didn’t need to be able to touch Erik’s mind to know how hard those words were for him to utter, and the knot in his gut began to dissolve, just a little.
Adam was quiet, and Charles could feel him struggling with so many opposing emotions, but then he closed the distance between him and Erik and reached out for Erik’s hands, helping him to his feet. “Come on then.”
It was then that Erik finally noticed Charles, his eyes zeroing in on him like a predator who’d found its prey, and then softening. Charles had seen that kind of soft look before, knew the note of pity that always accompanied it, and the knot in his gut moved into his throat. He’d never wanted to see that look on Erik’s face; it looked so foreign and wrong on his sharp features that Charles closed his eyes against it. When he opened them again, Erik was right in front of him, dropping to his knees. He reached his hands out, but stopped just short of touching Charles.
“Charles.” His voice was rough and broken when he spoke, and the look on his face crumpled from pity into something both worse, and easier to stomach. It was guilt, pure and simple, and even without being able to hear Erik’s thoughts, it was rolling off him in waves. “I’m so...god, Charles, I’m so sorry.”
Adam was there then, his hands finding their place on Charles’ shoulders, squeezing in a little harder than was necessary. Charles could tell that Adam wanted to speak, scathing retorts rolling around in his head, but he kept quiet, just standing strong and tall behind him. “Erik, what are you sorry for?”
“For doing this to you, for leaving you. Both of you.” Erik’s eyes flicked up to Adam’s for a moment, and Charles felt Adam’s anger being pushed to the side by something a little softer.
“Why now?” Charles’ hands twitched on his thighs, resisting the growing urge to reach out and touch Erik, to stroke his fingertips over Erik’s cheek. “Why after a year?”
Erik looked around, darting his eyes like he could sense the students watching from the windows and from around corners. “Can we...go inside? Somewhere more private?”
Charles turned his head to look back at Adam who nodded, but not before he’d pushed a thought into Charles’ head that Charles couldn’t disagree with. “You can come in, but I have one condition. You don’t wear that helmet here, not in my home.” He could see the protest on Erik’s face, cutting him off with a raised hand before Erik could open his mouth. “I won’t read your thoughts, I promise you that. But when you wear that, it’s like you don’t even exist, like you’re a black hole, and I can’t have that kind of emptiness here.”
“Alright.” Erik’s answer was clipped short, and his hands trembled slightly as he lifted the helmet off his head. Almost immediately, Charles could feel himself relax, the black space where Erik had been filling in like sand pouring into a hole. True to his word, Charles stayed out of Erik’s head, but just being able to sense his presence made all the difference. It was like Charles could finally see Erik again, his hair a little longer and messier than it had been before, a few more creases in the skin around his eyes, his mouth set in a hard line. Charles took a long moment to just look at him, looking until Erik’s mouth softened just a little, his fingers relaxing where they were gripping into the hard metal of the helmet.
“Come inside, Erik.” Charles dropped his hands and wheeled himself forward, Erik pausing uncertainly until Adam motioned him forward, falling in behind like he felt Erik needed to be watched. Every single inhabitant of the mansion was waiting for them inside the foyer, kids scattered up the stairs and in the halls, watching without even a pretense of hiding. Charles could feel their tension, nerves from not knowing what to expect, or knowing exactly what to expect in some cases. They all stood strong, shoulders square, even as Charles pushed out to them the notion that everything was fine, calm. Charles caught Hank’s eye as he passed by, giving him a brief nod and watched as Hank visibly relaxed, his nails no longer digging into the soft wood of the banister.
The three of them moved silently to Charles’ study, and Adam shut the door behind them, following to take a seat in the armchair next to where Charles stopped his chair. “Make yourself comfortable, Erik, have a seat.” Charles gestured towards the couch across from them, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head when Erik hesitated, waiting until he dropped, leaden and stiff onto the cushions. “Now, why don’t you tell us why you’re here, Erik.” Charles leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers together and locking eyes with Erik.
A series of emotions flashed across Erik’s face so rapidly Charles almost didn’t catch them all. Anger, guilt, sadness, they were all clear but there were flashes of softer things, things that would be frightening to Erik, but that Charles wanted to cling to. “I’m here for you, Charles.”
Charles was taken aback by the straightforwardness of Erik’s answer, and he leaned back in his chair, silent for a moment. “For me? I believe we established long ago that you and I want very different things. I trust you haven’t changed your views.”
Erik shook his head, gripping his fingers into his thighs. “I suppose my views haven’t changed, but what I want...I’m not sure anymore.” He sighed deeply, raking a hand through his uncharacteristically disheveled hair. “It just isn’t working, Charles. Those mutants, I can’t lead them, Raven’s the only one I even...” He stops mid-sentence, glancing up from his knees to gauge Charles’ reaction. “She’s the only one I even care about, the only one who really follows me. The others...I don’t know why they stay, they don’t want what I want.”
A rough laugh spilled from Erik’s lips, humourless even as his lips crook into a smirk. “You know I was never cut out for a team, Charles. I’m meant to work alone.”
“And yet here you are.” Charles’ words were met by silence, Erik nodding only slightly before finally relaxing enough to lean back into the cushions of the couch, as if the words had been holding him tightly together.
Adam broke the silence, leaning forward in his chair as he spoke, his voice soft but firm. “Do you know what your leaving did to us? All of us?” He gestured broadly, to the entire mansion. “They trusted you, fought alongside you. When Charles said you were coming, when we had to teach the kids how to fight you...” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. His unspoken words hung heavy in the air, and Erik actually winced.
“I am not sorry I left, Adam. I can’t be sorry for doing what I felt was right. And I still feel it was right.” Erik cleared his throat and stood, wiping his hands on his trousers. “I am sorry for coming back. For upsetting what you’ve built here. The school looks to be coming along, Charles, very impressive. I’ll leave you to it.”
Erik was almost to the door when Adam caught up to him, Adam’s fingers strong where they wrapped around his wrist. “I said you hurt us. I never said I was sorry you’d come back.”
Charles saw a look flash across Erik’s face that he’d never seen before, pure, sweet relief, only there for a flash before it was gone again. He watched as Adam’s grip loosened, brushing his fingers gently over the soft inside of Erik’s wrist before pulling away, rubbing his fingertips together absentmindedly. “Erik, what is it you want, exactly?” Charles spoke softly, but there was a firmness to his tone that made both Erik and Adam’s heads snap towards him. “Do you want to join us again, when you’ll be giving up your ideals for ours? Or are you here to turn us to your side? I have missed you, my friend, every day I have missed you, but I cannot welcome you back that easily. Not after you betrayed me. Us.” His eyes flicked from Erik’s face to Adam’s, but they all knew that Charles was referring to more than just the two of them.
“I honestly don’t know what I want.” Erik sounded surprised by the words that came from his lips, a confused look settling heavy on his face. “I don’t know, Charles. For the first time, I really don’t know what comes next.”
Charles nodded, pursing his lips and sending a thought in Adam’s direction. He watched as Adam’s brow furrowed and then softened, his head bobbing almost imperceptibly if Charles hadn’t been watching for it. Charles looked over at Erik, spinning the wheels on his chair until he was facing him front on, lips beginning to curve up in a smile even as he spoke. “Why don’t we figure out what comes next together, alright?”
For the first time in a year, Erik’s voice filled Charles’ head, and it felt so much more than the images had, so much that Charles felt himself holding his breath. Thank you.
Erik
Erik woke up the morning after he visited the mansion, his eyes feeling dry and scratchy as he forced them open to the dim light starting to filter in through the cheap hotel curtains. Charles had told him he could stay, that he would always have a bed in the mansion, but Erik couldn’t do it, not so soon. Being around Charles had been overwhelming in a way Erik hadn’t expected, his presence feeling heavy and thick all around Erik’s mind, even if he wasn’t even reaching out. He groaned as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, his toes digging into the carpet in a vain attempt at a stretch, and his brain tried to make sense of what had happened, what he’d learned. His heart had dropped into his gut the moment he saw Charles in that chair, with the knowledge that it was Erik that had put him there. Of course he’d known there was a chance when he pulled the bullet from Charles’ back, but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it, throwing himself into trying to find a new purpose, trying to force his group of mutants into a team they would never be. And seeing Adam storm out of the house like that, he’d expected the anger, he’d wanted and courted it, but the hurt, that was something that took him aback, the breath punched out of his lungs at the sheer honesty of the emotion splashed across Adam’s face. Erik was fairly certain the only emotion he’d ever felt that strongly was anger, at least since the moment when an excruciatingly sharp burst of sadness and pain had bled into rage, rage that he didn’t think would ever leave him, even now with his vendetta against Shaw satisfied.
At least, his vendetta was supposed to be satisfied. When he watched that coin burrow through Shaw’s skull, he felt a brilliant rush of accomplishment and only a little bit of regret that he couldn’t see the horrid look of pain on Shaw’s face he’d always imagined. Then the coin dropped to the floor, little speckles of Shaw’s blood splattering around it, and the rush was gone, leaving Erik’s chest empty, but a kind of emptiness that was unfamiliar. It was like the pain that had propelled him forward since he was a child had been scooped out, leaving behind a ragged wound that Erik didn’t yet know how to heal. He’d tried, taking on the mantle of leader for those left behind by Shaw, grand ideas of advancing mutants forward until they took their rightful place atop humanity on the food chain, but it didn’t take him long to discover that more than an idea was needed to move forward. The others had grown frustrated with him, though no one was more frustrated then himself. It was Raven who finally told him to get himself together and figure it out, Raven who actually had the gall to step too close to him and smack him across the face, startling him into listening.
It was Raven’s fault that he was now sitting on the edge of a hard hotel mattress, wishing he could make the previous night never happen, while at the same time wanting to drive as fast as he could to get back there, to feel Charles warm and alive under his hands, to hear and see the colours of Adam’s laugh filling the air around them. He sighed deeply, raking a hand through his hair. He’d made it this far, surely he could make it the rest of the way. A small smile crept onto his lips as he imagined the look on Raven’s face if he tried to come back to her without at least attempting to fix it, whatever it was that needed fixing, and that thought was enough to propel him to his feet. As he dressed, he wondered what it meant that of all the times he’d been made to do things that frightened him, the only two people who’d been able to do that without using his own pain against him, the only two people he’d felt drawn towards almost magnetically had grown up as nearly siblings. He pushed that to the back of his mind as he walked quickly and determinedly out of the hotel, his mind more than occupied enough without dealing with that particular thought today.
The mansion looked smaller now, smaller than it had a year ago and smaller than it had even the night before. In the months Erik had been gone, he’d built it up in his head, a monument of some sort, representing so much more than just a collection of stones and mortar. He stood in front of it now, the grass still damp with morning dew, the world still waking up around him, and he saw it as it really was. It was a home; a very grand home, but a home nonetheless, and it struck Erik that he’d never had a home to go back to, not since he’d been dragged out of his by a man in a brown uniform, clinging to his mother so hard his knuckles had gone white and he’d left red crescents in the skin of her wrist. From the bottom of the drive he could see the door swing inwards, could just barely make out Charles’ face in the brightening morning light. Charles lifted a hand in a wave, a slight smile curving his lips, and something lightened in Erik’s chest. As he strode towards the mansion, thoughts of home flitted around the edges of Erik’s mind, and even as he pushed them away he knew they had precious little to do with the mansion.
Charles’ face as Erik reached him was warm and open, the easy smile that Erik remembered so well. “Erik, good morning.” He wheeled himself backwards easily and gestured for Erik to step through the door and into the bustle of early morning in what was now Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Charles may not have had many children yet, but the ones he did have sure seemed to have a knack for making more than enough noise. Erik heard a crash and a high shriek from upstairs, followed by a shout of “you idiot!”, loud enough that he would swear the rafters rattled.
A low chuckle escaped from Charles’ lips, and he looked up at Erik. “That will be Monet. I think you’ll like her, she’s...spirited.” As if on cue, a pretty young girl with long, dark hair stormed down the stairs, her eyes wild, and her fists clenched.
Erik caught the beginning of the conversation, Monet hollering “Professor Xavier!” at the top of her lungs as she stomped up to his chair, but from there he only caught a random selection of words. He caught “Rictor” and “broken” and “idiot” again, but it took him longer than he wanted to admit to realize that much of the conversation was happening silently, Monet only exclaiming out loud when she reached a particularly tense part of the story.
“Monet, I’m sorry about your things, and I’ll talk to Rictor about using his powers in the house.” A pause, during which Monet rolled her eyes and furrowed her brow. “Yes, I will talk to him again. Breakfast in ten minutes, Monet, please be there.” Monet huffed and spun on her heels, dark hair whipping behind her as she stomped back up the stairs so hard that Erik thought she might go through.
“Spirited, hmm?” Erik couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as Charles ran his hand over his face, sighing. "She’s like you then?” They continued further into the house, heading towards the kitchen, and Erik found himself reaching out to rest a hand on the back of Charles’ chair as they walked.
"She's a telepath, yes." Charles laughed lightly, turning his face up to Erik. "I believe that is where our similarities end, however. Even as a teenager, I don’t think I had half so much...energy.” There was exasperation clear in his voice, but it was all wrapped in a kind of soft fondness that Erik just found so perfectly Charles, he tightened his hand on the back of Charles’ chair to keep from sliding it down to his shoulder or into his hair.
“You really seem to have your hands full here. You have how many students?” Erik let his eyes wander as they walked, taking in every nook and cranny of the mansion, looking for anything different and everything familiar.
“Half a dozen, if you consider Alex and Sean students. I do, but they certainly do not.” Another smile from Charles as they turned a corner, the sounds from the kitchen drawing them to the end of the hall. “But with them, Hank, and of course Adam, we’re doing quite well, I think. I would love to have more students, and Hank’s almost done rebuilding Cerebro here, so I should be able to search for more soon.”
The excitement was clear in Charles’ voice, the desire strong to bring children to his home and help them to work with their mutations, to learn not to be ashamed of what they were. Erik could see where their desires overlapped, where their missions began so similarly, but as Charles had told him weakly on the beach, they did not want the same things. “Charles, I am glad that you’ve allowed me back into your home.” He couldn’t use the word welcomed, not yet. “But I must ask you what you have in mind for me to do. You must know I am not a teacher at heart.”
Charles stopped his chair, just outside the kitchen door. “Maybe not, but you have much to teach them, Erik, I can see that. Trust me. It will take time, but I do believe they will grow fond of you.” Erik nodded, and stepped around Charles to push open the door of the kitchen, and stepped into the din, the noise level surely higher than half a dozen students and a few adults could ever actually make. Many faces paused and looked up at him, some familiar and hard, some new and curious, one very familiar, with so many emotions laid bare that Erik had to swallow around a lump the size of a grapefruit.
Erik put a grin on his face and slid his jacket from his arms, tossing it over a nearby chair. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
In the weeks that followed, Erik learned many things. First, he learned that half a dozen students could absolutely make that much noise, especially when one of them had the power to make the whole mansion shake, and another was Monet and very prone to dramatics. Second, he learned that Charles had been correct when he said it would take time. He’d been met with a reception that was frosty at best, and downright hostile at worst. Hank was the worst of them, would hardly even look at him, his lips curling up over his teeth briefly before he caught himself and schooled his features back into careful blankness. Erik stopped trying to reach out to him after the day when he’d put his hand on Hank’s shoulder in greeting and was met with a growl, the sound seeming to even startle Hank himself as it snarled out of his chest. Lifting his hands in a kind of surrender, Erik had backed away with an apology, fairly certain that this was a bridge he could never rebuild.
Alex and Sean seemed mostly indifferent to his presence, but Erik was starting to see that the indifference may have been on purpose. Charles had given Erik the task of teaching the children defense, among other things, because everyone would admit that was far more Erik’s strong suit than it would ever be Charles’ or any of the others. When they ran drills, the entire house gathered to work together, breaking off into teams and attempting to outwit their opponents, and after a particularly skilled move on Erik’s part, he had more than once caught Alex or Sean cheering him on before receiving a sidelong glance from Hank, that was more than enough to shut them up. Erik felt the first bit of real progress after training one day when Alex hung around after everyone else, clapping Erik on the back and smiling. “Good practice, you’re really turning these kids into a team. Glad you’re here.” He’d walked away before Erik could respond, but the crack in the collective armour of the mansion was big enough that Erik was starting to see light bleeding through, and it gave him something to chip away at.
The one shell Erik was trying hardest to chip away at, and having the least success was with Adam. Charles had seemingly forgiven him for leaving, for hurting him in all the ways he had, but Adam, Adam was struggling more than Erik could have imagined. He could see it every time Adam walked into a room where Erik was, the flash of fondness or happiness in his eyes in the instant before he remembered what Erik had to done, to him, to Charles, and to all of them, and then the stony mask was back, a hard edge to Adam’s eyes that make Erik’s gut ache. Erik cared deeply for Adam, and right now the thing he loved most about Adam was the thing that was nearly driving him mad. Adam was stubborn and hard-headed, so strong in his opinions that he was nearly unmovable once decided, especially when someone he cared about was involved. He loved with every fibre of his being, willing to give anything and everything to keep the person he loved safe and happy, and Erik could see the way he was being torn apart.
The three of them had all loved one another, each of their shortcomings being held up by another’s strengths in a way Erik didn’t pretend to understand. He didn’t know what Charles and Adam’s relationship had been like this last year, but when he watched them together now, he could see how much closer they’d become in his absence. The kind of easy affection they shared now was different than what Erik remembered, a gentle touch of Adam’s hand on Charles’ shoulder, or Charles’ tilting his face up to smile softly and secretly at Adam, every movement looking familiar and comfortable. Like a bulb flashing in his head, Erik finally realized that Adam’s anger towards him wasn’t just for the way that Erik had hurt him, but for the way that Erik had hurt Charles. Adam had loved them both, one man he loved hurting the other, leaving him broken in body and nearly in mind, and Erik imagined he would feel caught, trapped between mourning the man that was gone, and repairing the man that was left behind. Watching as Adam bent down to press a kiss to Charles’ temple, a light laugh carrying across the room to reach Erik’s ear, Erik ached to be standing with them, and knew that it was Adam he’d have to convince that he was still worth it.
Erik had been coming to the mansion almost daily for nearly two months when he finally experienced what he would come to look back on as a real breakthrough with the children. After that brief moment with Alex, things had gotten slightly easier around the mansion, the tension lifting just enough that he no longer dreaded walking up to the door each morning. Maybe Hank wasn’t greeting him yet, but neither was he snarling and storming out of rooms whenever Erik entered, and Erik counted every little thing as progress. Over the last weeks, Erik had come to know each of the new students, both through Charles’ notes on them, and through his own first hand experiences teaching them. In addition to teaching them defense, Charles’ took advantage of Erik’s knowledge of many languages to add to his curriculum, making it compulsory that each of the students learn at least one new language. Monet and Rictor weren’t exactly keen on the idea, both of them already fluent in two languages, but eventually the students split down the middle, Monet and Ororo learning Spanish, and Rictor and Gav learning French. From the very first day of classes, the relationships between these two pairs were obvious, and couldn’t be more different.
The rooms that were used for teaching were varied in size, and Erik’s language room used to be a rather small drawing room on the second floor. Even so, Monet and Ororo managed to sit as far apart from one another as the space would allow, shooting the kind of evil glances at one another than only teenage girls are capable of. They competed like athletes in everything, their hands shooting up so fast Erik was worried they might hurt themselves. He found the competition truly unnecessary as both girls were actually quite brilliant, and he found himself drawn to Ororo, wanting to pull her out of the shell he was just starting to see crack. Monet clearly held the dominant position between them, but when they argued, Erik could see Ororo’s fist clenching, her teeth grinding with the effort of staying calm. Erik knew that feeling well, recognizing the fog that often crept along the floor and the way her eyes whited out when Ororo was mad as similar to the way that things rattled around him. Or had, before Charles had got to him.
One day after class he held Ororo back, his hand gentle on her shoulder as he stopped her at the door. “Ororo, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Yes, Mr. Lehnsherr?” Ororo turned, brushing a strand of shocking white hair back from her face and shifting her books from one arm to the other.
Erik leaned back onto the desk, resting his hands on the edge and smiled, trying to put the girl at ease. He knew that they had only begun training because he had been coming, and he could only imagine what they’d been told about him. “I’ve noticed you struggling with your powers. Fighting them.”
Ororo nodded, her cheeks colouring a little. “When I’m upset, mad or something, sometimes I can’t control it, it just happens.” Her lips quirked up in a little smile, and she looked up at Erik through her hair. “One time, Monet borrowed a necklace that belonged to my mother and I got so mad a storm formed over the house. Lightning struck the window over Monet’s bed.”
“And that was completely accidental, I’m sure.” Erik fought the urge to laugh, the secret glee in Ororo’s eyes contagious. “Well, Ororo, can I tell you something?” When she nodded, Erik went on, leaning down closer to her level. “When I was younger, I used to have trouble controlling my powers much like you do. When I was mad or scared or hurt, everything around me would rattle or fly across the room, and I couldn’t stop it. Eventually, I was sure I couldn’t use my powers unless I was angry, so I was always angry.”
“But you learned to control it?” Ororo looked up at him, her smile bleeding into a look of hope.
“I did. Your Professor Xavier taught me better than anyone how to do it. When something or someone is upsetting you, you’ll never have full control over your powers unless you understand where they really come from. You have to find that place inside,” Erik paused, touching his own heart and then reaching out to touch Ororo’s. “That place where you can feel your power stirring. Charles, I mean, Professor Xavier told me to find the place between rage and serenity, and it worked for me. Look inside and find your own place, Ororo, once you do, no one will be able control your powers but you.”
Ororo nodded, but she looked a little unsure as she stepped from the room. Erik knew that what he said probably seemed rather heavy and useless to a teenager, but he trusted that Ororo was smart and sensitive enough to understand it, given the time. And sure enough, it was only days before he noticed a marked difference in her demeanour, even in the way she carried herself. She held her head high even when Monet was at her worst, her eyes remaining peaceful and calm and dark, and the air in the classroom remaining blissfully fog-free.
They never talked about their discussion after that day, but Erik had a hunch Ororo had talked to others about it. The other kids seemed easier around him suddenly, but he most noticed the way that Adam looked at him, his eyes soft around the edges, a hint of a confusion creased on his brow, as if he couldn’t quite make what he’d heard mesh with what had taken residence in his head over the last year. More than once, Erik caught Adam watching him as they trained or even just as they shared lunch in the bustling kitchen, and he could swear he saw Adam’s fingers twitch towards him. Erik ached to reach out and close the distance, but he knew he couldn’t be the one to make that move, not with Adam. Until Adam was ready to come to him, or at least meet him halfway, Erik curled his fingers into his hand, digging his nails in until the sharp bite of pain snapped him back to the moment, lifting his eyes until they met Adam’s, just for a beat, a twitch around the corners of Adam’s mouth that might have become a smile. It may have been slow, but it was definitely progress.
Considering the house was full of teenagers who weren’t only full of raging hormones, but also with volatile genetics, Erik was constantly surprised at the lack of violent outbursts. Any disagreement between the children could usually be handled relatively easily with Charles’ firm but gentle voice, or Adam’s unique way of diffusing tension with a laugh. That was why Erik was jolted fully out of the book he was reading when he heard a smash upstairs, followed by a loud bellow, another crash, and a rather disturbing silence. Erik moved quickly, his feet carrying him up the stairs and down the hall where he was met with a crowd, Monet, Ororo, Alex and Sean staring shocked and more than a little scared at a door that was shut, at least as much as it could be with the state of its hinges.
Erik could feel Charles pressing against his mind with urgency and frustration that he couldn’t easily get up there himself, and Erik let him in without hesitation, letting him watch through through Erik’s eyes. “What’s happening?”
Ororo looked up at him, her eyes wide and worried. “It’s Gav, I don’t know what’s wrong but he just lost it. Ric’s in there with him.” She winced as something else crashed from behind the door, but no one inside screamed which made Erik feel a little better. He ran through what Charles’ had told him about Gav when he’d arrived, how he seemed to have no memories of his life before the mansion except for heavy training in martial arts and swordsmanship. Now, as Charles’ thoughts mingled with his own, Erik learned that Charles had almost been expecting a breakdown, and at the very least wasn’t surprised at this turn of events.
“Okay, all of you just stay out here. I’ll see what I can do.” Erik pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and moved the kids until they were standing behind him, well away from Gav’s door. “Gav? It’s Erik, I’m going to come in now, alright?”
The door swung inward and nearly crashed to the floor before Erik caught it with his powers, bending the metal of the hinges just enough to hold the door in the frame. There was debris all over the floor of the room, drawers turned out and them smashed, more than one window pane broken, and one of the beds sitting just slightly crooked. Rictor was sitting on the other bed, cross-legged and a little pale, his mouth set in a hard line. Erik nodded at him and turned to the far wall where Gav was pacing, his face red and his fists clenched and bloody, punching into the wall at random intervals. He could tell Gav was holding back at least a little; Erik was more than aware that if he wanted to, Gav could punch a hole nearly through to the other side, but he was only letting his fist dent the plaster, white powder falling to the floor around his feet.
“Ric, can you tell me what happened?” Erik moved closer to Rictor, keeping his eyes locked on Gav as he continued to pace, though he was starting to slow down.
“I don’t, I’m not really sure.” Rictor shook his head and raked a hand through his hair, looking up at Erik with a look in his eyes that made Erik’s stomach clench. “We were just, well, we were hanging out, and suddenly he just...I think maybe he remembered. Maybe I said something or did something, but he just went crazy.”
“This is not your fault, Rictor, I promise you that. Sometimes we don’t have control over our own memories, and they can hurt.” Erik reached out a squeezed Rictor’s shoulder quickly, glancing back to see that Gav had stopped pacing and was staring out the window, a hard look on his face. “Do you want to leave the room? I’m going to try to talk to him, and I don’t want you to get hurt if it goes...poorly.”
Rictor nodded, and stood on somewhat shaky legs, backing out of the room. Erik could tell he stopped directly on the other side of the door, but he couldn’t tell him to go any further away. It didn’t take a genius to see what those boys had, and Erik hoped they still had it at the end of the day. He walked slowly across the room, muscles just tense enough, and spoke softly as he moved up beside Gav. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Gav turned to look at him, his eyes shining with a look that Erik knew well, a look of pain and rage that he’d seen looking back at himself in the mirror more days of his life than not. “I remembered. Not everything, but I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten anything.” The room was silent for several long moments, the two of them just staring at each other until Gav continued. “They made me this way. When I was young, really young, they trained me. Made me into a killer. That’s what I am, an assassin.”
Erik took in a short sharp breath, his heart thumping. He could still feel Charles in his head, and he pushed back now, pushing until Charles got the hint and his mind was his own again. This was something that needed to be between Gav and Erik, the only person in the mansion who could understand what Gav had just remembered. “Can we sit down? I’d like to tell you a few things.”
They found a clean spot on the floor, Gav curling himself up in a corner, his brow furrowed deep with rage and sadness as Erik began his story. He hadn’t been sure how much the children had been told about his past, but the answer quickly became clear as Gav looked up at him with wide eyes, reaching up to touch the mark around his eye that he’d always assumed was a birthmark as Erik slid his fingers over his own mark on the soft skin of his forearm. “I can’t tell you that I’ve gotten over what happened to me, because I haven’t, and I don’t know that I ever will. What I can tell you, is that no matter what anyone has done to you, your actions are your own now, no one else’s. You can choose to be the killer they wanted you to be, or you can use your powers and your skills for all the good that your professor wants to do in the world. What do you choose, Gav?”
Gav looked at him, quiet and thoughtful and then looked down at his bloodied knuckles. He flexed his hands, and Erik could see him thinking, see the anger warring inside him, fighting to win out over the calm that had crept in. His eyes were a little wild when he looked up at Erik, near manic, and there was a dark edge to his voice when he spoke. “You know who made you like this though, you’ve known all along and you got to deal with it. You got to kill him. I can’t do that, I don’t even know if what I remembered is real.”
Erik felt adrift in the conversation, grasping for what to say next, what would be the right thing. “Yes, I did know, and I did deal with it. But it didn’t make anything better. I spent my life chasing a monster, thinking ending his life would magically make everything better, would undo all the pain and anger I’d felt. But it didn’t. Perhaps I felt better at first, but it didn’t take long for that feeling to go away.”
“It didn’t make you feel better? But you got revenge, got him back.” Gav looked confused, leaning forward with a challenge in his eyes.
Erik nodded, gripping his hands into his thighs. This is not a conversation he wanted to have with anyone, least of all a teenager on the very edge of making a damaging decision. “I did, but it didn’t undo what he’d done to me. And in the end, I was no better than him. I gained nothing, Gav, and neither would you.” Erik knew he wasn’t telling Gav the whole truth, knew that there was so much more to it than what he’d just said, but he felt Charles’ thoughts of praise drift into his mind, and he stopped there. Sometimes, you had to pick and choose what to tell someone, and Erik was learning that went doubly so when dealing with teenagers.
Gav was quiet for a long time, sitting stock still and staring down at his hands, still clenching and unclenching his fingers, scabs starting to form on his bloody knuckles. Erik didn’t have to be able to read Gav’s mind to know what he was thinking, Erik’s words fighting with the adolescent idea that his problems would be solved if only he could destroy the person that caused them. All at once, the tension dropped from Gav’s shoulders, a sigh escaping his lips that fell somewhere between relief and resignation. “I guess you’re right. I mean, at least you understand it, no one else ever would, not even Ric.” Gav turned his eyes to the door for a moment, looking a little sad. “He tried, and I just shouted at him and threw the clock.”
“Well, another thing I can tell you, is if he really cares about you, he’ll forgive you, and I think he does.” Erik let it go unspoken that the only reason he was even here to talk to Gav right now was because Charles had cared enough about him to give him this second chance, but he could tell from the way that Gav’s eyes flicked up from his hands to Erik’s face, that he knew what Erik wasn’t saying.
A few more quiet moments passed, but then Gav looked up, his eyes cleared and his lips starting to curve up. It wasn’t quite his usual bright, easy grin, but it was a step in the right direction and Erik was glad to see it. “Thanks for telling me all that, Mr Lehnsherr, it means a lot that someone gets it. I think I know what I choose now.”
Erik reached out and squeezed Gav’s forearm, and then stood, brushing plaster dust and debris from his pants. “I wish nothing more than that you hadn’t needed my advice on this matter, Gav, but my door is always open if you need it. Now, there’s a boy in the hallway who cares very much for you, who is very scared, and there’s a room in a very serious state of disrepair. Why don’t you see what you can do about those things?” As Erik stepped into the hallway, passing many stunned faces, it occurred to him just how much like Charles he’d sounded then, and how much he’d actually grown to care about the children. In the past, that realization would have sent him bolting like a spooked horse, and there was a large part of him that still wanted to run as far and as fast as he could, to where he was alone and unencumbered. But he found that another part of him felt anchored, to Charles, to Adam and to the mansion, and to his own surprise, he found that the feeling wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
Part One
Part Three
Pairing: Charles Xavier/Adam Lambert/Erik Lehnsherr, background Rictor/Gav (Shatterstar)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~21000
Summary: Sequel to The more things change. It had been more than year since Erik had been gone. Gone from Charles’ mind, from his home and from his bed, but never from his thoughts.
A year after the beach, Charles has the school up and running, welcoming new students with Adam at his side. Erik has never been far from his mind, but lately he's been closer than ever, clear images of Erik coming to the mansion flashing in Charles' mind. What does Erik want, after all this time? Charles' doesn't know, but together with Adam, Hank and the new students, he has to be ready for anything, as much as it might hurt.
Notes: Written for the xmenbigbang. Title taken from Adam Lambert's Can't let you go. This is mainly in the XMFC verse, however there are a few added characters from the comics verse. Ororo (Storm), Rictor, and Monet St Croix are fairly clear, and I've also introduced Shatterstar, who I've called Gav, taking his name from one of his aliases, Gavandra Seven. Rictor and Shatterstar have a great relationship in the comics, and I couldn't resist bringing it over! If you're not a comic fan, don't worry! I don't think there's anything in here that would be confusing, and I've certainly taken creative liberties with the characters' histories. The same can be said for those of you who may not be Adam Lambert fans. You don't need to know anything about him other than what I've included, and I think he could be read as an OMC without much trouble.
As always, I need to thank my beta janesgravity, but I need to thank her even more than usual! I needed to be dug out from more than one pile of my own melodrama during the writing of this, and if it wasn't for her, I'd still be buried! Thanks also goes to Acey who provided a much needed third set of eyes! <3
And finally, thanks to vertrauen for providing me with a lovely fan mix to go with this story!
Weeks passed, somehow crawling and flying by at the same time. Charles didn’t have a single vision of Erik, not even a flash, and he was beginning to think that he’d misunderstood what the images in his mind had meant. He didn’t stop the training, didn’t tell anyone other than Adam that he was beginning to doubt what he’d seen. He didn’t stop thinking about what would happen if and when Erik did come, not for a second, and when he finally came, it wasn’t at all like Charles had imagined. He’d spent the last several weeks drafting scenarios in his head, every way possible that Erik could burst into the mansion. He imagined Erik charging over the lawn, like he had in Russia, his new team following behind him, tornadoes swirling towards the house. He imagined Erik coming alone, his power making the door swing open ahead of him, stepping fiercely into the foyer, his jaw set as the chandeliers rattled with a flick of his finger. Late at night, Charles allowed himself to imagine Erik coming to the doors of the bedroom that opened onto the lawn, rapping gently on the glass before stepping lightly through the door. In Charles’ mind, the light framed Erik’s body, and he stood there silently until Charles lifted his arms and beckoned him forward.
In all the weeks and all the scenarios that Charles had imagined, it never occurred to him that Erik would just pull up to the bottom of the drive in a car that even Charles thought looked expensive, and step out like he was coming home. Charles watched through the window with a knot deep in his gut as Erik straightened his clothes, making sure the helmet was still settled on top of his head as he started up the drive toward the mansion. He didn’t even make it halfway before Charles heard the front door of the mansion slam, seconds later seeing Adam stride down the drive, anger radiating off of him in waves. From this distance, he couldn’t hear what Adam was saying, but the air around him crackled red and black like smoke as he shouted, his fists held firm at his side and Charles could see the effort it was taking to hold back as much as he was.
Charles opened his mind as he started towards the door, Adam’s anger almost stopping him in his tracks. He had never felt him this angry, had never felt this kind of anger from anyone but Erik before, and it shocked him into momentary stillness. Adam’s thoughts were so jumbled Charles’ nearly couldn’t make sense of them, seeing flashes of frustration and rage and love all mixed up into an emotional storm. He still couldn’t touch Erik’s mind, but he could tell that Erik wasn’t responding the way Adam had expected him to, or maybe even wanted him to. Adam had stormed out looking for a fight, and for once, Erik wasn’t giving one.
Adam’s emotions swirled and boiled inside of Charles’ head, spinning tighter and tighter until they burst outward in a ball of light, and Charles pushed his wheels as fast as he could, reaching the front door of the mansion just in time to swing it open and see Erik flying backwards, a ball of yellow light just starting to dissipate.
“Isn’t this what you came here for? A fight? Why else would you come back after this all time?” Adam’s face was flushed bright red, and his fingers were flexed, muscles in his forearms twitching as he stepped closer. “Answer me!”
Charles watched as Erik licked his lips, and he could see the fight inside of him, imagined he could hear the thrumming of metal around him as his power reached out. “I didn’t come here for a fight, Adam. If I had, you would certainly know it by now.”
“Then why did you come? We’re fine without you, Charles and I.” Adam’s voice was low now, not yelling anymore, the fight starting to drain out of him. His temper burned hot and fast, but he could never sustain it for long, especially not when his feelings were as muddled as Charles could feel they were.
A few long moments passed in silence on the lawn, and Charles could sense all the students watching and waiting, ready to use what they’d learned in the past weeks if necessary. Charles too held his breath, needing to hear Erik’s answer as much as Adam did.
“I came because...because perhaps I’m not fine.” Erik’s words were so quiet they didn’t reach Charles’ ears, and he only heard them through Adam’s mind. He didn’t need to be able to touch Erik’s mind to know how hard those words were for him to utter, and the knot in his gut began to dissolve, just a little.
Adam was quiet, and Charles could feel him struggling with so many opposing emotions, but then he closed the distance between him and Erik and reached out for Erik’s hands, helping him to his feet. “Come on then.”
It was then that Erik finally noticed Charles, his eyes zeroing in on him like a predator who’d found its prey, and then softening. Charles had seen that kind of soft look before, knew the note of pity that always accompanied it, and the knot in his gut moved into his throat. He’d never wanted to see that look on Erik’s face; it looked so foreign and wrong on his sharp features that Charles closed his eyes against it. When he opened them again, Erik was right in front of him, dropping to his knees. He reached his hands out, but stopped just short of touching Charles.
“Charles.” His voice was rough and broken when he spoke, and the look on his face crumpled from pity into something both worse, and easier to stomach. It was guilt, pure and simple, and even without being able to hear Erik’s thoughts, it was rolling off him in waves. “I’m so...god, Charles, I’m so sorry.”
Adam was there then, his hands finding their place on Charles’ shoulders, squeezing in a little harder than was necessary. Charles could tell that Adam wanted to speak, scathing retorts rolling around in his head, but he kept quiet, just standing strong and tall behind him. “Erik, what are you sorry for?”
“For doing this to you, for leaving you. Both of you.” Erik’s eyes flicked up to Adam’s for a moment, and Charles felt Adam’s anger being pushed to the side by something a little softer.
“Why now?” Charles’ hands twitched on his thighs, resisting the growing urge to reach out and touch Erik, to stroke his fingertips over Erik’s cheek. “Why after a year?”
Erik looked around, darting his eyes like he could sense the students watching from the windows and from around corners. “Can we...go inside? Somewhere more private?”
Charles turned his head to look back at Adam who nodded, but not before he’d pushed a thought into Charles’ head that Charles couldn’t disagree with. “You can come in, but I have one condition. You don’t wear that helmet here, not in my home.” He could see the protest on Erik’s face, cutting him off with a raised hand before Erik could open his mouth. “I won’t read your thoughts, I promise you that. But when you wear that, it’s like you don’t even exist, like you’re a black hole, and I can’t have that kind of emptiness here.”
“Alright.” Erik’s answer was clipped short, and his hands trembled slightly as he lifted the helmet off his head. Almost immediately, Charles could feel himself relax, the black space where Erik had been filling in like sand pouring into a hole. True to his word, Charles stayed out of Erik’s head, but just being able to sense his presence made all the difference. It was like Charles could finally see Erik again, his hair a little longer and messier than it had been before, a few more creases in the skin around his eyes, his mouth set in a hard line. Charles took a long moment to just look at him, looking until Erik’s mouth softened just a little, his fingers relaxing where they were gripping into the hard metal of the helmet.
“Come inside, Erik.” Charles dropped his hands and wheeled himself forward, Erik pausing uncertainly until Adam motioned him forward, falling in behind like he felt Erik needed to be watched. Every single inhabitant of the mansion was waiting for them inside the foyer, kids scattered up the stairs and in the halls, watching without even a pretense of hiding. Charles could feel their tension, nerves from not knowing what to expect, or knowing exactly what to expect in some cases. They all stood strong, shoulders square, even as Charles pushed out to them the notion that everything was fine, calm. Charles caught Hank’s eye as he passed by, giving him a brief nod and watched as Hank visibly relaxed, his nails no longer digging into the soft wood of the banister.
The three of them moved silently to Charles’ study, and Adam shut the door behind them, following to take a seat in the armchair next to where Charles stopped his chair. “Make yourself comfortable, Erik, have a seat.” Charles gestured towards the couch across from them, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head when Erik hesitated, waiting until he dropped, leaden and stiff onto the cushions. “Now, why don’t you tell us why you’re here, Erik.” Charles leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers together and locking eyes with Erik.
A series of emotions flashed across Erik’s face so rapidly Charles almost didn’t catch them all. Anger, guilt, sadness, they were all clear but there were flashes of softer things, things that would be frightening to Erik, but that Charles wanted to cling to. “I’m here for you, Charles.”
Charles was taken aback by the straightforwardness of Erik’s answer, and he leaned back in his chair, silent for a moment. “For me? I believe we established long ago that you and I want very different things. I trust you haven’t changed your views.”
Erik shook his head, gripping his fingers into his thighs. “I suppose my views haven’t changed, but what I want...I’m not sure anymore.” He sighed deeply, raking a hand through his uncharacteristically disheveled hair. “It just isn’t working, Charles. Those mutants, I can’t lead them, Raven’s the only one I even...” He stops mid-sentence, glancing up from his knees to gauge Charles’ reaction. “She’s the only one I even care about, the only one who really follows me. The others...I don’t know why they stay, they don’t want what I want.”
A rough laugh spilled from Erik’s lips, humourless even as his lips crook into a smirk. “You know I was never cut out for a team, Charles. I’m meant to work alone.”
“And yet here you are.” Charles’ words were met by silence, Erik nodding only slightly before finally relaxing enough to lean back into the cushions of the couch, as if the words had been holding him tightly together.
Adam broke the silence, leaning forward in his chair as he spoke, his voice soft but firm. “Do you know what your leaving did to us? All of us?” He gestured broadly, to the entire mansion. “They trusted you, fought alongside you. When Charles said you were coming, when we had to teach the kids how to fight you...” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. His unspoken words hung heavy in the air, and Erik actually winced.
“I am not sorry I left, Adam. I can’t be sorry for doing what I felt was right. And I still feel it was right.” Erik cleared his throat and stood, wiping his hands on his trousers. “I am sorry for coming back. For upsetting what you’ve built here. The school looks to be coming along, Charles, very impressive. I’ll leave you to it.”
Erik was almost to the door when Adam caught up to him, Adam’s fingers strong where they wrapped around his wrist. “I said you hurt us. I never said I was sorry you’d come back.”
Charles saw a look flash across Erik’s face that he’d never seen before, pure, sweet relief, only there for a flash before it was gone again. He watched as Adam’s grip loosened, brushing his fingers gently over the soft inside of Erik’s wrist before pulling away, rubbing his fingertips together absentmindedly. “Erik, what is it you want, exactly?” Charles spoke softly, but there was a firmness to his tone that made both Erik and Adam’s heads snap towards him. “Do you want to join us again, when you’ll be giving up your ideals for ours? Or are you here to turn us to your side? I have missed you, my friend, every day I have missed you, but I cannot welcome you back that easily. Not after you betrayed me. Us.” His eyes flicked from Erik’s face to Adam’s, but they all knew that Charles was referring to more than just the two of them.
“I honestly don’t know what I want.” Erik sounded surprised by the words that came from his lips, a confused look settling heavy on his face. “I don’t know, Charles. For the first time, I really don’t know what comes next.”
Charles nodded, pursing his lips and sending a thought in Adam’s direction. He watched as Adam’s brow furrowed and then softened, his head bobbing almost imperceptibly if Charles hadn’t been watching for it. Charles looked over at Erik, spinning the wheels on his chair until he was facing him front on, lips beginning to curve up in a smile even as he spoke. “Why don’t we figure out what comes next together, alright?”
For the first time in a year, Erik’s voice filled Charles’ head, and it felt so much more than the images had, so much that Charles felt himself holding his breath. Thank you.
Erik
Erik woke up the morning after he visited the mansion, his eyes feeling dry and scratchy as he forced them open to the dim light starting to filter in through the cheap hotel curtains. Charles had told him he could stay, that he would always have a bed in the mansion, but Erik couldn’t do it, not so soon. Being around Charles had been overwhelming in a way Erik hadn’t expected, his presence feeling heavy and thick all around Erik’s mind, even if he wasn’t even reaching out. He groaned as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, his toes digging into the carpet in a vain attempt at a stretch, and his brain tried to make sense of what had happened, what he’d learned. His heart had dropped into his gut the moment he saw Charles in that chair, with the knowledge that it was Erik that had put him there. Of course he’d known there was a chance when he pulled the bullet from Charles’ back, but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it, throwing himself into trying to find a new purpose, trying to force his group of mutants into a team they would never be. And seeing Adam storm out of the house like that, he’d expected the anger, he’d wanted and courted it, but the hurt, that was something that took him aback, the breath punched out of his lungs at the sheer honesty of the emotion splashed across Adam’s face. Erik was fairly certain the only emotion he’d ever felt that strongly was anger, at least since the moment when an excruciatingly sharp burst of sadness and pain had bled into rage, rage that he didn’t think would ever leave him, even now with his vendetta against Shaw satisfied.
At least, his vendetta was supposed to be satisfied. When he watched that coin burrow through Shaw’s skull, he felt a brilliant rush of accomplishment and only a little bit of regret that he couldn’t see the horrid look of pain on Shaw’s face he’d always imagined. Then the coin dropped to the floor, little speckles of Shaw’s blood splattering around it, and the rush was gone, leaving Erik’s chest empty, but a kind of emptiness that was unfamiliar. It was like the pain that had propelled him forward since he was a child had been scooped out, leaving behind a ragged wound that Erik didn’t yet know how to heal. He’d tried, taking on the mantle of leader for those left behind by Shaw, grand ideas of advancing mutants forward until they took their rightful place atop humanity on the food chain, but it didn’t take him long to discover that more than an idea was needed to move forward. The others had grown frustrated with him, though no one was more frustrated then himself. It was Raven who finally told him to get himself together and figure it out, Raven who actually had the gall to step too close to him and smack him across the face, startling him into listening.
It was Raven’s fault that he was now sitting on the edge of a hard hotel mattress, wishing he could make the previous night never happen, while at the same time wanting to drive as fast as he could to get back there, to feel Charles warm and alive under his hands, to hear and see the colours of Adam’s laugh filling the air around them. He sighed deeply, raking a hand through his hair. He’d made it this far, surely he could make it the rest of the way. A small smile crept onto his lips as he imagined the look on Raven’s face if he tried to come back to her without at least attempting to fix it, whatever it was that needed fixing, and that thought was enough to propel him to his feet. As he dressed, he wondered what it meant that of all the times he’d been made to do things that frightened him, the only two people who’d been able to do that without using his own pain against him, the only two people he’d felt drawn towards almost magnetically had grown up as nearly siblings. He pushed that to the back of his mind as he walked quickly and determinedly out of the hotel, his mind more than occupied enough without dealing with that particular thought today.
The mansion looked smaller now, smaller than it had a year ago and smaller than it had even the night before. In the months Erik had been gone, he’d built it up in his head, a monument of some sort, representing so much more than just a collection of stones and mortar. He stood in front of it now, the grass still damp with morning dew, the world still waking up around him, and he saw it as it really was. It was a home; a very grand home, but a home nonetheless, and it struck Erik that he’d never had a home to go back to, not since he’d been dragged out of his by a man in a brown uniform, clinging to his mother so hard his knuckles had gone white and he’d left red crescents in the skin of her wrist. From the bottom of the drive he could see the door swing inwards, could just barely make out Charles’ face in the brightening morning light. Charles lifted a hand in a wave, a slight smile curving his lips, and something lightened in Erik’s chest. As he strode towards the mansion, thoughts of home flitted around the edges of Erik’s mind, and even as he pushed them away he knew they had precious little to do with the mansion.
Charles’ face as Erik reached him was warm and open, the easy smile that Erik remembered so well. “Erik, good morning.” He wheeled himself backwards easily and gestured for Erik to step through the door and into the bustle of early morning in what was now Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Charles may not have had many children yet, but the ones he did have sure seemed to have a knack for making more than enough noise. Erik heard a crash and a high shriek from upstairs, followed by a shout of “you idiot!”, loud enough that he would swear the rafters rattled.
A low chuckle escaped from Charles’ lips, and he looked up at Erik. “That will be Monet. I think you’ll like her, she’s...spirited.” As if on cue, a pretty young girl with long, dark hair stormed down the stairs, her eyes wild, and her fists clenched.
Erik caught the beginning of the conversation, Monet hollering “Professor Xavier!” at the top of her lungs as she stomped up to his chair, but from there he only caught a random selection of words. He caught “Rictor” and “broken” and “idiot” again, but it took him longer than he wanted to admit to realize that much of the conversation was happening silently, Monet only exclaiming out loud when she reached a particularly tense part of the story.
“Monet, I’m sorry about your things, and I’ll talk to Rictor about using his powers in the house.” A pause, during which Monet rolled her eyes and furrowed her brow. “Yes, I will talk to him again. Breakfast in ten minutes, Monet, please be there.” Monet huffed and spun on her heels, dark hair whipping behind her as she stomped back up the stairs so hard that Erik thought she might go through.
“Spirited, hmm?” Erik couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as Charles ran his hand over his face, sighing. "She’s like you then?” They continued further into the house, heading towards the kitchen, and Erik found himself reaching out to rest a hand on the back of Charles’ chair as they walked.
"She's a telepath, yes." Charles laughed lightly, turning his face up to Erik. "I believe that is where our similarities end, however. Even as a teenager, I don’t think I had half so much...energy.” There was exasperation clear in his voice, but it was all wrapped in a kind of soft fondness that Erik just found so perfectly Charles, he tightened his hand on the back of Charles’ chair to keep from sliding it down to his shoulder or into his hair.
“You really seem to have your hands full here. You have how many students?” Erik let his eyes wander as they walked, taking in every nook and cranny of the mansion, looking for anything different and everything familiar.
“Half a dozen, if you consider Alex and Sean students. I do, but they certainly do not.” Another smile from Charles as they turned a corner, the sounds from the kitchen drawing them to the end of the hall. “But with them, Hank, and of course Adam, we’re doing quite well, I think. I would love to have more students, and Hank’s almost done rebuilding Cerebro here, so I should be able to search for more soon.”
The excitement was clear in Charles’ voice, the desire strong to bring children to his home and help them to work with their mutations, to learn not to be ashamed of what they were. Erik could see where their desires overlapped, where their missions began so similarly, but as Charles had told him weakly on the beach, they did not want the same things. “Charles, I am glad that you’ve allowed me back into your home.” He couldn’t use the word welcomed, not yet. “But I must ask you what you have in mind for me to do. You must know I am not a teacher at heart.”
Charles stopped his chair, just outside the kitchen door. “Maybe not, but you have much to teach them, Erik, I can see that. Trust me. It will take time, but I do believe they will grow fond of you.” Erik nodded, and stepped around Charles to push open the door of the kitchen, and stepped into the din, the noise level surely higher than half a dozen students and a few adults could ever actually make. Many faces paused and looked up at him, some familiar and hard, some new and curious, one very familiar, with so many emotions laid bare that Erik had to swallow around a lump the size of a grapefruit.
Erik put a grin on his face and slid his jacket from his arms, tossing it over a nearby chair. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
In the weeks that followed, Erik learned many things. First, he learned that half a dozen students could absolutely make that much noise, especially when one of them had the power to make the whole mansion shake, and another was Monet and very prone to dramatics. Second, he learned that Charles had been correct when he said it would take time. He’d been met with a reception that was frosty at best, and downright hostile at worst. Hank was the worst of them, would hardly even look at him, his lips curling up over his teeth briefly before he caught himself and schooled his features back into careful blankness. Erik stopped trying to reach out to him after the day when he’d put his hand on Hank’s shoulder in greeting and was met with a growl, the sound seeming to even startle Hank himself as it snarled out of his chest. Lifting his hands in a kind of surrender, Erik had backed away with an apology, fairly certain that this was a bridge he could never rebuild.
Alex and Sean seemed mostly indifferent to his presence, but Erik was starting to see that the indifference may have been on purpose. Charles had given Erik the task of teaching the children defense, among other things, because everyone would admit that was far more Erik’s strong suit than it would ever be Charles’ or any of the others. When they ran drills, the entire house gathered to work together, breaking off into teams and attempting to outwit their opponents, and after a particularly skilled move on Erik’s part, he had more than once caught Alex or Sean cheering him on before receiving a sidelong glance from Hank, that was more than enough to shut them up. Erik felt the first bit of real progress after training one day when Alex hung around after everyone else, clapping Erik on the back and smiling. “Good practice, you’re really turning these kids into a team. Glad you’re here.” He’d walked away before Erik could respond, but the crack in the collective armour of the mansion was big enough that Erik was starting to see light bleeding through, and it gave him something to chip away at.
The one shell Erik was trying hardest to chip away at, and having the least success was with Adam. Charles had seemingly forgiven him for leaving, for hurting him in all the ways he had, but Adam, Adam was struggling more than Erik could have imagined. He could see it every time Adam walked into a room where Erik was, the flash of fondness or happiness in his eyes in the instant before he remembered what Erik had to done, to him, to Charles, and to all of them, and then the stony mask was back, a hard edge to Adam’s eyes that make Erik’s gut ache. Erik cared deeply for Adam, and right now the thing he loved most about Adam was the thing that was nearly driving him mad. Adam was stubborn and hard-headed, so strong in his opinions that he was nearly unmovable once decided, especially when someone he cared about was involved. He loved with every fibre of his being, willing to give anything and everything to keep the person he loved safe and happy, and Erik could see the way he was being torn apart.
The three of them had all loved one another, each of their shortcomings being held up by another’s strengths in a way Erik didn’t pretend to understand. He didn’t know what Charles and Adam’s relationship had been like this last year, but when he watched them together now, he could see how much closer they’d become in his absence. The kind of easy affection they shared now was different than what Erik remembered, a gentle touch of Adam’s hand on Charles’ shoulder, or Charles’ tilting his face up to smile softly and secretly at Adam, every movement looking familiar and comfortable. Like a bulb flashing in his head, Erik finally realized that Adam’s anger towards him wasn’t just for the way that Erik had hurt him, but for the way that Erik had hurt Charles. Adam had loved them both, one man he loved hurting the other, leaving him broken in body and nearly in mind, and Erik imagined he would feel caught, trapped between mourning the man that was gone, and repairing the man that was left behind. Watching as Adam bent down to press a kiss to Charles’ temple, a light laugh carrying across the room to reach Erik’s ear, Erik ached to be standing with them, and knew that it was Adam he’d have to convince that he was still worth it.
Erik had been coming to the mansion almost daily for nearly two months when he finally experienced what he would come to look back on as a real breakthrough with the children. After that brief moment with Alex, things had gotten slightly easier around the mansion, the tension lifting just enough that he no longer dreaded walking up to the door each morning. Maybe Hank wasn’t greeting him yet, but neither was he snarling and storming out of rooms whenever Erik entered, and Erik counted every little thing as progress. Over the last weeks, Erik had come to know each of the new students, both through Charles’ notes on them, and through his own first hand experiences teaching them. In addition to teaching them defense, Charles’ took advantage of Erik’s knowledge of many languages to add to his curriculum, making it compulsory that each of the students learn at least one new language. Monet and Rictor weren’t exactly keen on the idea, both of them already fluent in two languages, but eventually the students split down the middle, Monet and Ororo learning Spanish, and Rictor and Gav learning French. From the very first day of classes, the relationships between these two pairs were obvious, and couldn’t be more different.
The rooms that were used for teaching were varied in size, and Erik’s language room used to be a rather small drawing room on the second floor. Even so, Monet and Ororo managed to sit as far apart from one another as the space would allow, shooting the kind of evil glances at one another than only teenage girls are capable of. They competed like athletes in everything, their hands shooting up so fast Erik was worried they might hurt themselves. He found the competition truly unnecessary as both girls were actually quite brilliant, and he found himself drawn to Ororo, wanting to pull her out of the shell he was just starting to see crack. Monet clearly held the dominant position between them, but when they argued, Erik could see Ororo’s fist clenching, her teeth grinding with the effort of staying calm. Erik knew that feeling well, recognizing the fog that often crept along the floor and the way her eyes whited out when Ororo was mad as similar to the way that things rattled around him. Or had, before Charles had got to him.
One day after class he held Ororo back, his hand gentle on her shoulder as he stopped her at the door. “Ororo, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Yes, Mr. Lehnsherr?” Ororo turned, brushing a strand of shocking white hair back from her face and shifting her books from one arm to the other.
Erik leaned back onto the desk, resting his hands on the edge and smiled, trying to put the girl at ease. He knew that they had only begun training because he had been coming, and he could only imagine what they’d been told about him. “I’ve noticed you struggling with your powers. Fighting them.”
Ororo nodded, her cheeks colouring a little. “When I’m upset, mad or something, sometimes I can’t control it, it just happens.” Her lips quirked up in a little smile, and she looked up at Erik through her hair. “One time, Monet borrowed a necklace that belonged to my mother and I got so mad a storm formed over the house. Lightning struck the window over Monet’s bed.”
“And that was completely accidental, I’m sure.” Erik fought the urge to laugh, the secret glee in Ororo’s eyes contagious. “Well, Ororo, can I tell you something?” When she nodded, Erik went on, leaning down closer to her level. “When I was younger, I used to have trouble controlling my powers much like you do. When I was mad or scared or hurt, everything around me would rattle or fly across the room, and I couldn’t stop it. Eventually, I was sure I couldn’t use my powers unless I was angry, so I was always angry.”
“But you learned to control it?” Ororo looked up at him, her smile bleeding into a look of hope.
“I did. Your Professor Xavier taught me better than anyone how to do it. When something or someone is upsetting you, you’ll never have full control over your powers unless you understand where they really come from. You have to find that place inside,” Erik paused, touching his own heart and then reaching out to touch Ororo’s. “That place where you can feel your power stirring. Charles, I mean, Professor Xavier told me to find the place between rage and serenity, and it worked for me. Look inside and find your own place, Ororo, once you do, no one will be able control your powers but you.”
Ororo nodded, but she looked a little unsure as she stepped from the room. Erik knew that what he said probably seemed rather heavy and useless to a teenager, but he trusted that Ororo was smart and sensitive enough to understand it, given the time. And sure enough, it was only days before he noticed a marked difference in her demeanour, even in the way she carried herself. She held her head high even when Monet was at her worst, her eyes remaining peaceful and calm and dark, and the air in the classroom remaining blissfully fog-free.
They never talked about their discussion after that day, but Erik had a hunch Ororo had talked to others about it. The other kids seemed easier around him suddenly, but he most noticed the way that Adam looked at him, his eyes soft around the edges, a hint of a confusion creased on his brow, as if he couldn’t quite make what he’d heard mesh with what had taken residence in his head over the last year. More than once, Erik caught Adam watching him as they trained or even just as they shared lunch in the bustling kitchen, and he could swear he saw Adam’s fingers twitch towards him. Erik ached to reach out and close the distance, but he knew he couldn’t be the one to make that move, not with Adam. Until Adam was ready to come to him, or at least meet him halfway, Erik curled his fingers into his hand, digging his nails in until the sharp bite of pain snapped him back to the moment, lifting his eyes until they met Adam’s, just for a beat, a twitch around the corners of Adam’s mouth that might have become a smile. It may have been slow, but it was definitely progress.
Considering the house was full of teenagers who weren’t only full of raging hormones, but also with volatile genetics, Erik was constantly surprised at the lack of violent outbursts. Any disagreement between the children could usually be handled relatively easily with Charles’ firm but gentle voice, or Adam’s unique way of diffusing tension with a laugh. That was why Erik was jolted fully out of the book he was reading when he heard a smash upstairs, followed by a loud bellow, another crash, and a rather disturbing silence. Erik moved quickly, his feet carrying him up the stairs and down the hall where he was met with a crowd, Monet, Ororo, Alex and Sean staring shocked and more than a little scared at a door that was shut, at least as much as it could be with the state of its hinges.
Erik could feel Charles pressing against his mind with urgency and frustration that he couldn’t easily get up there himself, and Erik let him in without hesitation, letting him watch through through Erik’s eyes. “What’s happening?”
Ororo looked up at him, her eyes wide and worried. “It’s Gav, I don’t know what’s wrong but he just lost it. Ric’s in there with him.” She winced as something else crashed from behind the door, but no one inside screamed which made Erik feel a little better. He ran through what Charles’ had told him about Gav when he’d arrived, how he seemed to have no memories of his life before the mansion except for heavy training in martial arts and swordsmanship. Now, as Charles’ thoughts mingled with his own, Erik learned that Charles had almost been expecting a breakdown, and at the very least wasn’t surprised at this turn of events.
“Okay, all of you just stay out here. I’ll see what I can do.” Erik pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and moved the kids until they were standing behind him, well away from Gav’s door. “Gav? It’s Erik, I’m going to come in now, alright?”
The door swung inward and nearly crashed to the floor before Erik caught it with his powers, bending the metal of the hinges just enough to hold the door in the frame. There was debris all over the floor of the room, drawers turned out and them smashed, more than one window pane broken, and one of the beds sitting just slightly crooked. Rictor was sitting on the other bed, cross-legged and a little pale, his mouth set in a hard line. Erik nodded at him and turned to the far wall where Gav was pacing, his face red and his fists clenched and bloody, punching into the wall at random intervals. He could tell Gav was holding back at least a little; Erik was more than aware that if he wanted to, Gav could punch a hole nearly through to the other side, but he was only letting his fist dent the plaster, white powder falling to the floor around his feet.
“Ric, can you tell me what happened?” Erik moved closer to Rictor, keeping his eyes locked on Gav as he continued to pace, though he was starting to slow down.
“I don’t, I’m not really sure.” Rictor shook his head and raked a hand through his hair, looking up at Erik with a look in his eyes that made Erik’s stomach clench. “We were just, well, we were hanging out, and suddenly he just...I think maybe he remembered. Maybe I said something or did something, but he just went crazy.”
“This is not your fault, Rictor, I promise you that. Sometimes we don’t have control over our own memories, and they can hurt.” Erik reached out a squeezed Rictor’s shoulder quickly, glancing back to see that Gav had stopped pacing and was staring out the window, a hard look on his face. “Do you want to leave the room? I’m going to try to talk to him, and I don’t want you to get hurt if it goes...poorly.”
Rictor nodded, and stood on somewhat shaky legs, backing out of the room. Erik could tell he stopped directly on the other side of the door, but he couldn’t tell him to go any further away. It didn’t take a genius to see what those boys had, and Erik hoped they still had it at the end of the day. He walked slowly across the room, muscles just tense enough, and spoke softly as he moved up beside Gav. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Gav turned to look at him, his eyes shining with a look that Erik knew well, a look of pain and rage that he’d seen looking back at himself in the mirror more days of his life than not. “I remembered. Not everything, but I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten anything.” The room was silent for several long moments, the two of them just staring at each other until Gav continued. “They made me this way. When I was young, really young, they trained me. Made me into a killer. That’s what I am, an assassin.”
Erik took in a short sharp breath, his heart thumping. He could still feel Charles in his head, and he pushed back now, pushing until Charles got the hint and his mind was his own again. This was something that needed to be between Gav and Erik, the only person in the mansion who could understand what Gav had just remembered. “Can we sit down? I’d like to tell you a few things.”
They found a clean spot on the floor, Gav curling himself up in a corner, his brow furrowed deep with rage and sadness as Erik began his story. He hadn’t been sure how much the children had been told about his past, but the answer quickly became clear as Gav looked up at him with wide eyes, reaching up to touch the mark around his eye that he’d always assumed was a birthmark as Erik slid his fingers over his own mark on the soft skin of his forearm. “I can’t tell you that I’ve gotten over what happened to me, because I haven’t, and I don’t know that I ever will. What I can tell you, is that no matter what anyone has done to you, your actions are your own now, no one else’s. You can choose to be the killer they wanted you to be, or you can use your powers and your skills for all the good that your professor wants to do in the world. What do you choose, Gav?”
Gav looked at him, quiet and thoughtful and then looked down at his bloodied knuckles. He flexed his hands, and Erik could see him thinking, see the anger warring inside him, fighting to win out over the calm that had crept in. His eyes were a little wild when he looked up at Erik, near manic, and there was a dark edge to his voice when he spoke. “You know who made you like this though, you’ve known all along and you got to deal with it. You got to kill him. I can’t do that, I don’t even know if what I remembered is real.”
Erik felt adrift in the conversation, grasping for what to say next, what would be the right thing. “Yes, I did know, and I did deal with it. But it didn’t make anything better. I spent my life chasing a monster, thinking ending his life would magically make everything better, would undo all the pain and anger I’d felt. But it didn’t. Perhaps I felt better at first, but it didn’t take long for that feeling to go away.”
“It didn’t make you feel better? But you got revenge, got him back.” Gav looked confused, leaning forward with a challenge in his eyes.
Erik nodded, gripping his hands into his thighs. This is not a conversation he wanted to have with anyone, least of all a teenager on the very edge of making a damaging decision. “I did, but it didn’t undo what he’d done to me. And in the end, I was no better than him. I gained nothing, Gav, and neither would you.” Erik knew he wasn’t telling Gav the whole truth, knew that there was so much more to it than what he’d just said, but he felt Charles’ thoughts of praise drift into his mind, and he stopped there. Sometimes, you had to pick and choose what to tell someone, and Erik was learning that went doubly so when dealing with teenagers.
Gav was quiet for a long time, sitting stock still and staring down at his hands, still clenching and unclenching his fingers, scabs starting to form on his bloody knuckles. Erik didn’t have to be able to read Gav’s mind to know what he was thinking, Erik’s words fighting with the adolescent idea that his problems would be solved if only he could destroy the person that caused them. All at once, the tension dropped from Gav’s shoulders, a sigh escaping his lips that fell somewhere between relief and resignation. “I guess you’re right. I mean, at least you understand it, no one else ever would, not even Ric.” Gav turned his eyes to the door for a moment, looking a little sad. “He tried, and I just shouted at him and threw the clock.”
“Well, another thing I can tell you, is if he really cares about you, he’ll forgive you, and I think he does.” Erik let it go unspoken that the only reason he was even here to talk to Gav right now was because Charles had cared enough about him to give him this second chance, but he could tell from the way that Gav’s eyes flicked up from his hands to Erik’s face, that he knew what Erik wasn’t saying.
A few more quiet moments passed, but then Gav looked up, his eyes cleared and his lips starting to curve up. It wasn’t quite his usual bright, easy grin, but it was a step in the right direction and Erik was glad to see it. “Thanks for telling me all that, Mr Lehnsherr, it means a lot that someone gets it. I think I know what I choose now.”
Erik reached out and squeezed Gav’s forearm, and then stood, brushing plaster dust and debris from his pants. “I wish nothing more than that you hadn’t needed my advice on this matter, Gav, but my door is always open if you need it. Now, there’s a boy in the hallway who cares very much for you, who is very scared, and there’s a room in a very serious state of disrepair. Why don’t you see what you can do about those things?” As Erik stepped into the hallway, passing many stunned faces, it occurred to him just how much like Charles he’d sounded then, and how much he’d actually grown to care about the children. In the past, that realization would have sent him bolting like a spooked horse, and there was a large part of him that still wanted to run as far and as fast as he could, to where he was alone and unencumbered. But he found that another part of him felt anchored, to Charles, to Adam and to the mansion, and to his own surprise, he found that the feeling wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
Part One
Part Three