Hands of Blue - Chapter Two (2/?)
Hands of Blue - Chapter Two (2/?)
Fandom: X-Men (First Class)
Pairings and characters: Charles/Erik, background Mystique/Azazel, whole cast.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Medical experimentation and torture, psychic violation, some disturbing imagery. For this chapter: Possible trigger - briefly mentions Shaw torturing young Erik with humiliation.
Prompt: From the kinkmeme HERE requesting an AU based on the Firefly universe. Charles is captured by an organisation that use him for experiments and try to turn him into a weapon. Erik and the other mutants save him, but his mind is severely damaged.(also updated on the kinkmeme thred)
Summary: When Erik met and saved Charles, the telepath had endured years of torture. The ruthless Magneto sees himself in the broken and shattered mutant who should have been his friend. AU - Firefly inspired.
Prologue + Masterpost
The Inner Circle owned a number of locations all over the country, gentlemen’s clubs and hotels and factories. They were all positioned a certain distance from each other, so Azazel could teleport between them with others in tow.
The nearest to the CIA research facility happened to be a metalworking factory on the outskirts of New York, used to melt down spare military parts after World War II. It had fallen into disrepair from disuse, but it served their purposes.
As soon as they reappeared, Erik summoned the cleanest table to them, a metal slab that scraped along the tiles with a horrifying screech. Mindful of the chill of the metal, but unable to do anything about it, Erik lay X gently on the table. Hank approached the other side, checking X’s pulse with two fingers on his wrist.
Erik placed his hands on the rail and stared Hank down. ‘Why can’t we remove the helmet?’
‘He can’t control his powers.’ Hank said.
Erik glanced up at Emma and unconsciously rolled his shoulder. Every mutant knew that feeling. ‘What could that mean for a telepath?’
Something that resembled emotion crossed Emma’s usually cold face. ‘Anything.’
‘Well, we can’t have an out of control telepath.’ Erik pointed out. There was a grunt of agreement from Azazel.
‘Magneto, while this factory might be your dream house, it’s not exactly rehab.’ Mystique said slyly, pushing at the nuts and bolds that littered the ground with one foot.
‘Then were can we take him? The Hellfire club?’ Erik gave a sardonic laugh.
‘There was an address.’ Hank said. ‘It was in his file, Westchester. I erased it from the database, they won’t find it.’ He looked over at Azazel. ‘Can you take us there?’
Azazel shook his head. ‘I can’t teleport somewhere I’ve never been.’
‘Westchester is only an hour from here.’ Mystique pointed out. ‘We could drive, find the place and Az could jump back.’
‘Alright.’ Erik decided. ‘Emma, go diamond. Azazel, take Mystique and Hank, track down that address.’
Azazel nodded, winding an arm around his wife’s waist and grabbed Hank’s shoulder. They were gone, and Emma shimmered as she took on her other form. On the table in front of Erik, X made a distressed noise.
‘It’s okay, X.’ Erik soothed, gloved hand running along the length of the bar under X’s chin, finding a weak spot. ‘Just don’t move, I’m going to get you out of this.’
Erik twitched to fingers and the metal broke free at both ends, sending it flying across the room. The sharp edges curled back from X’s delicate throat as he drew a wheezing breath. Erik placed one hand on the young mutant’s shoulder and spoke quietly. ‘It’s alright. I’m going to help you.’
‘Can’t.’ The single strangled word was only just audible. ‘Shan’t.’
Erik moved his other hand to grip the bottom of the deprivation helmet. ‘It’s okay. I recognise a fellow lab rat when I see one.’
X used Erik’s arm as a weight to pull himself to sit upright, his useless legs stretched out under the cape still. Erik gently pulled the helmet away.
He had been shaved bald. Twin round scars marked the top of his skull, evidence of a surgery left behind. The loss of whatever hair he might usually have made the young man seem delicate, fragile, like with one touch, Erik’s too large hands would shatter him.
Shaven, thin and terrified. He looked too much like the stacked up bodies in a single mass grave.
X’s head bent upwards, searching out the face of the man who saved him. Brilliant blue eyes sought out Erik’s.
And he screamed.
The high-pitched wail vibrated in Erik’s skull, so full of pain and fear. Out of instinct, Erik squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at the metal helmet on his own head. A huge clash jolted his eyes back open. X had struggled, over toppling the metal table he had been placed on, falling to the ground. He cried out pitifully, struggling to shuffle across the ground with his hands, the cape tangling in his legs, unable to twitch or help in his attempt to escape.
All the while, he was muttering.
‘Alone, not wrong, empty head, not emptywrong, not-people, can’t be real, shan’t be. I’ll be good, I’ll be good, not the only wrong one, not again.’
Erik crouched down to even the levels between them; stretching out his hand in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture. ‘It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.’
X buried his face in his hands, ragged fingernails scourging red marks into his scalp, and he shrugged in response. ‘The pain doesn’t hurt if it’s all you’ve ever felt.’
Erik remembered a long time ago, a similar thought running through the mind of such a young boy, and a voice above him saying Just bend the handcuffs, my little Erik, and you can walk to the bathroom. This is a simple thing I ask of you, yes?
Erik’s hands moved to his helmet.
‘Magneto, don’t-’ Emma protested, her diamond form not too far away.
‘It’s alright.’ Erik said, more to the frightened man huddled on the floor than to Emma. He bowed his head, drawing the helmet from himself and placing it beside him on the ground.
X gasped, eyes searching out Erik and focusing on him for the first time. He looked shocked, and more than a little terrified, the same way a human would stare at Azazel in fear when the mutant first appeared in front of them.
Erik stretched out a hand and tried to dwell on his most calming thoughts. Safety. He projected. His favourite piece of classical music. A fragment of a Yiddish lullaby. A stream of words when he only meant half of them. You’re okay, X, you’re safe now. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re not alone. There are others out there, like you, like us. Let me help you.
X kept his head tucked down, but pulled his hands away from his head, scrunching them into fists and driving them twice into the floor. He glared at Erik, intense eyes not blinking.
‘I’m going to count to three.’ X said.
Blood ran cold in Erik’s veins.
‘And you’re going to move the coin.’
Erik started forward, real true anger beating in his ears for the first time since he lobotomised Shaw. ‘How could you know that? I wasn’t even thinking about it!’
X, who had looked around the room with fear didn’t even flinch at Erik’s threatening voice.
‘Eins.’
Emma’s voice, strained with concern, drew Erik’s attention away from the tortured mutant. ‘Magneto, what are you doing?’
Erik glanced around at her diamond form in confusion. A single metal nut rose from the floor beside Erik, rotating slowly. He mentally grabbed the magnetic field and tried to will the nut down, but it wouldn’t move. It kept spinning slowly, and soon he realised that it was flattening, something was manipulating the metal and shaping it, into -
A coin.
‘Zwei.’
‘I’m not doing anything. How are you doing this?’ Erik demanded, rounding on X. ‘Are you like me? Metal, can you move metal?’
X wasn’t listening, his head half cocked as if he was listening to an unusual song, staring intently at the spinning metal. An engraving started to sink into it, thick lines bent sharply around each other. The Nazi symbol.
‘Drei.’ X said.
The coin shot out, too fast for Erik to track. It struck Emma, in the middle of the forehead, bouncing off the diamond with a harmless ting. It landed on the floor and rolled away, no longer under the control of a mutant.
Erik turned to X, words of comfort and shock dying on his lips when he saw the sly grin of the other man. The telepath stole the words right from his mind.
‘You’re not alone.’ He said, scratching at his shaved head, gouging into his temple. ‘Charles… you’re not alone.’
(Chapter Three)
Fandom: X-Men (First Class)
Pairings and characters: Charles/Erik, background Mystique/Azazel, whole cast.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Medical experimentation and torture, psychic violation, some disturbing imagery. For this chapter: Possible trigger - briefly mentions Shaw torturing young Erik with humiliation.
Prompt: From the kinkmeme HERE requesting an AU based on the Firefly universe. Charles is captured by an organisation that use him for experiments and try to turn him into a weapon. Erik and the other mutants save him, but his mind is severely damaged.(also updated on the kinkmeme thred)
Summary: When Erik met and saved Charles, the telepath had endured years of torture. The ruthless Magneto sees himself in the broken and shattered mutant who should have been his friend. AU - Firefly inspired.
Prologue + Masterpost
The Inner Circle owned a number of locations all over the country, gentlemen’s clubs and hotels and factories. They were all positioned a certain distance from each other, so Azazel could teleport between them with others in tow.
The nearest to the CIA research facility happened to be a metalworking factory on the outskirts of New York, used to melt down spare military parts after World War II. It had fallen into disrepair from disuse, but it served their purposes.
As soon as they reappeared, Erik summoned the cleanest table to them, a metal slab that scraped along the tiles with a horrifying screech. Mindful of the chill of the metal, but unable to do anything about it, Erik lay X gently on the table. Hank approached the other side, checking X’s pulse with two fingers on his wrist.
Erik placed his hands on the rail and stared Hank down. ‘Why can’t we remove the helmet?’
‘He can’t control his powers.’ Hank said.
Erik glanced up at Emma and unconsciously rolled his shoulder. Every mutant knew that feeling. ‘What could that mean for a telepath?’
Something that resembled emotion crossed Emma’s usually cold face. ‘Anything.’
‘Well, we can’t have an out of control telepath.’ Erik pointed out. There was a grunt of agreement from Azazel.
‘Magneto, while this factory might be your dream house, it’s not exactly rehab.’ Mystique said slyly, pushing at the nuts and bolds that littered the ground with one foot.
‘Then were can we take him? The Hellfire club?’ Erik gave a sardonic laugh.
‘There was an address.’ Hank said. ‘It was in his file, Westchester. I erased it from the database, they won’t find it.’ He looked over at Azazel. ‘Can you take us there?’
Azazel shook his head. ‘I can’t teleport somewhere I’ve never been.’
‘Westchester is only an hour from here.’ Mystique pointed out. ‘We could drive, find the place and Az could jump back.’
‘Alright.’ Erik decided. ‘Emma, go diamond. Azazel, take Mystique and Hank, track down that address.’
Azazel nodded, winding an arm around his wife’s waist and grabbed Hank’s shoulder. They were gone, and Emma shimmered as she took on her other form. On the table in front of Erik, X made a distressed noise.
‘It’s okay, X.’ Erik soothed, gloved hand running along the length of the bar under X’s chin, finding a weak spot. ‘Just don’t move, I’m going to get you out of this.’
Erik twitched to fingers and the metal broke free at both ends, sending it flying across the room. The sharp edges curled back from X’s delicate throat as he drew a wheezing breath. Erik placed one hand on the young mutant’s shoulder and spoke quietly. ‘It’s alright. I’m going to help you.’
‘Can’t.’ The single strangled word was only just audible. ‘Shan’t.’
Erik moved his other hand to grip the bottom of the deprivation helmet. ‘It’s okay. I recognise a fellow lab rat when I see one.’
X used Erik’s arm as a weight to pull himself to sit upright, his useless legs stretched out under the cape still. Erik gently pulled the helmet away.
He had been shaved bald. Twin round scars marked the top of his skull, evidence of a surgery left behind. The loss of whatever hair he might usually have made the young man seem delicate, fragile, like with one touch, Erik’s too large hands would shatter him.
Shaven, thin and terrified. He looked too much like the stacked up bodies in a single mass grave.
X’s head bent upwards, searching out the face of the man who saved him. Brilliant blue eyes sought out Erik’s.
And he screamed.
The high-pitched wail vibrated in Erik’s skull, so full of pain and fear. Out of instinct, Erik squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at the metal helmet on his own head. A huge clash jolted his eyes back open. X had struggled, over toppling the metal table he had been placed on, falling to the ground. He cried out pitifully, struggling to shuffle across the ground with his hands, the cape tangling in his legs, unable to twitch or help in his attempt to escape.
All the while, he was muttering.
‘Alone, not wrong, empty head, not emptywrong, not-people, can’t be real, shan’t be. I’ll be good, I’ll be good, not the only wrong one, not again.’
Erik crouched down to even the levels between them; stretching out his hand in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture. ‘It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.’
X buried his face in his hands, ragged fingernails scourging red marks into his scalp, and he shrugged in response. ‘The pain doesn’t hurt if it’s all you’ve ever felt.’
Erik remembered a long time ago, a similar thought running through the mind of such a young boy, and a voice above him saying Just bend the handcuffs, my little Erik, and you can walk to the bathroom. This is a simple thing I ask of you, yes?
Erik’s hands moved to his helmet.
‘Magneto, don’t-’ Emma protested, her diamond form not too far away.
‘It’s alright.’ Erik said, more to the frightened man huddled on the floor than to Emma. He bowed his head, drawing the helmet from himself and placing it beside him on the ground.
X gasped, eyes searching out Erik and focusing on him for the first time. He looked shocked, and more than a little terrified, the same way a human would stare at Azazel in fear when the mutant first appeared in front of them.
Erik stretched out a hand and tried to dwell on his most calming thoughts. Safety. He projected. His favourite piece of classical music. A fragment of a Yiddish lullaby. A stream of words when he only meant half of them. You’re okay, X, you’re safe now. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re not alone. There are others out there, like you, like us. Let me help you.
X kept his head tucked down, but pulled his hands away from his head, scrunching them into fists and driving them twice into the floor. He glared at Erik, intense eyes not blinking.
‘I’m going to count to three.’ X said.
Blood ran cold in Erik’s veins.
‘And you’re going to move the coin.’
Erik started forward, real true anger beating in his ears for the first time since he lobotomised Shaw. ‘How could you know that? I wasn’t even thinking about it!’
X, who had looked around the room with fear didn’t even flinch at Erik’s threatening voice.
‘Eins.’
Emma’s voice, strained with concern, drew Erik’s attention away from the tortured mutant. ‘Magneto, what are you doing?’
Erik glanced around at her diamond form in confusion. A single metal nut rose from the floor beside Erik, rotating slowly. He mentally grabbed the magnetic field and tried to will the nut down, but it wouldn’t move. It kept spinning slowly, and soon he realised that it was flattening, something was manipulating the metal and shaping it, into -
A coin.
‘Zwei.’
‘I’m not doing anything. How are you doing this?’ Erik demanded, rounding on X. ‘Are you like me? Metal, can you move metal?’
X wasn’t listening, his head half cocked as if he was listening to an unusual song, staring intently at the spinning metal. An engraving started to sink into it, thick lines bent sharply around each other. The Nazi symbol.
‘Drei.’ X said.
The coin shot out, too fast for Erik to track. It struck Emma, in the middle of the forehead, bouncing off the diamond with a harmless ting. It landed on the floor and rolled away, no longer under the control of a mutant.
Erik turned to X, words of comfort and shock dying on his lips when he saw the sly grin of the other man. The telepath stole the words right from his mind.
‘You’re not alone.’ He said, scratching at his shaved head, gouging into his temple. ‘Charles… you’re not alone.’
(Chapter Three)