Hands of Blue - Chapter Three (3/?)
Title: Hands of Blue
Characters and pairings: Charles/Erik, background Mystique/Azazel, whole cast.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Medical experimentation and torture, psychic violation, some disturbing imagery. Warning for this chapter: Imagery of the train cars transporting people into Auschwitz.
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 thread)
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 + Chapter One
Thanks heaps to carpediem_14 for the German!
Heart still thudding at the show of power, Erik frowned and leant forward. ‘Is that your name?’
‘My name.’ Charles repeated dumbly for a moment. ‘Erik Lensherr.’
A sad smile tugged at Erik’s lips. ‘Yes, that’s me.’
Charles shot him a small concerned look, hunching his shoulders inwards, trying to take up the least amount of space possible. ‘Lensherr, Erik, Herr Doktor. Manchmal bewegt sich Metall, wenn ich es will. Ich kann es nicht kontrollieren.’
Erik remembered being frightened, speaking those words in the same trembling voice. Sometimes metal moves when I tell it to. I can’t control it. Slipping into German, Erik asked for the man’s age. ‘Wie alt bist du?’
‘Vierzehn, Herr Doktor.’
Fourteen. God, he was only just at Shaw’s hands at that age, beginning the torture that would turn him into the man he is, a young boy, so easily influenced and manipulated. Erik focused on the image in front of him, a grown man, stubble covering his chin and jaw line, worry lines creased into his forehead, age-old eyes that squeezed shut at the image they received.
‘Nein, das stimmt nicht. Ich bin nicht.’ Charles muttered. ‘No, that’s not right, is it? Differentiate.’ His eyes slid open, catching Erik’s. He unravelled himself, timidly presenting his left hand, outstretched for a handshake. ‘Charles Xavier. How do you do?’
Erik quickly bit down on a smile at the propriety, grasping the other man’s hand with his own. ‘Erik Lensherr.’
Charles seemed completely disinterested in Erik’s name, immediately tugging on the other man’s hand and pulling him closer. He tightened his grip and rotated, forcing the underside of Erik’s forearm upwards. Thin fingers worked under the cuff of Erik’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing the sleeve up to his elbow.
214782
Charles let out a little gasp of relief, trailing his fingers over the blue ink with reverence. Erik steeled a little, his jaw clenching shut at the blatant reminder marring his skin. Charles shook his head insistently.
‘No, no. Look. See.’ Charles rotated his own forearm to reveal two parallel black lines running from halfway up his forearm to his thin wrists, where they joined in a jagged connection.
He must have picked up on Erik’s confusion, because he leant forward and pressed the heel of his hand into Erik’s forehead. Feeling more than slightly ridiculous, Erik had to go cross-eyed to focus on the tattoo.
It was a capital M, tattooed across Charles’s wrist, with the tails elongated down his forearm.
‘M for mutant. M for mistake.’ Charles murmured. ‘M for… m-matrimony.’
Erik’s eyebrows cocked at the last word on the list, but Charles merely met him with a wry smile. Erik couldn’t help but let a small huff of amusement escape him, and Charles grinned back at him, his fingers tracing over the blue numbers and the black M in turn.
‘Do you see?’ Charles asked, his voice dropping to an amazement filled whisper. ‘Do you collaborate?’
Erik laid their arms side by side. ‘We’re not very different, are we?
‘I’ve been so alone.’ Charles smiled up at him, thin and watery.
Erik’s hands gripped his, huge hands that dwarfed his completely. ‘No, Charles, not any more. You’re not alone.’
Charles let out a strangled gasp, eyes suddenly blinking back tears. His hands weakly clutched at the front of Erik’s shirt, alternating between spreading the collar flat with his palms and crumpling it under his fingers.
Erik chuckled slightly and drew the other man in close, wrapping his arms around the fragile shoulders.
Finally, Charles shuddered and sobbed.
Fat, wet tears rolled down Charles’s cheeks, soaking in Erik’s shirt. The sharp prickles of his shaved head ticked Erik’s neck. Snot and tears flowed freely, turning Charles into a blubbering mess.
It wasn’t dignified, but survival rarely was.
‘Erik, they-they made me find us, mind is been so full, so empty in my blood.’ Charles sobbed, the words almost unrecognisable.
‘Sh, shh.’ Erik soothed awkwardly, his gloved hands patting lamely on the other man’s back. He tried desperately to grasp for a memory, perhaps one of his mother, but the primary thought in his mind only amounted to What the fuck do I do?
‘Objectively aware of others sharing my mutation. Not just OCA2, but locked deeper… inside genetic coding.’ Charles rambled. ‘I miss others. Unbound nucleotide, thymine w-without adenine. T without A. N-need A to correctly function.’
Erik drew on a scrap of knowledge he’d read in a dusty book. ‘DNA?’ The scientists were doing research into the causes of these mutated abilities. Perhaps they had found it.
Charles gave him a look that made him feel like an idiot. ‘How much Nurture did you think was involved? Did you think teddy-’ Charles stopped and looked horrified for a moment. ‘Where’s my teddy?
Completely at a loss, Erik could only cock an eyebrow. ‘Uh…’
Charles’ eyes darted around the empty room. ‘Where’s he gone? Teddy?’
‘He’s insane.’ Emma remarked.
‘Don’t like ice lady.’ Charles snapped. ‘Bad, mean ice lady, who melts brimstone.’ He wrinkled his nose in distaste, then flicked back to his search. ‘Teddy, he’s…’ at a loss of how to describe the lost companion, he bent in half and grabbed for his leg, hauling it closer to wrap his hands around his limp foot. ‘He’s my teddy; he told without speaking, I’ll get you out.’
The thought had hardly even crossed Erik’s mind when Charles brightened. ‘Yes! The kid! I found him like the others.’ Charles’ expression shifted, and he raised a hand and touched Erik’s nose and eyes lightly. ‘Didn’t find you. Were you hiding from me? Under the floorboards?’
‘No.’ Erik shook his head resolutely, then indicated behind him. ‘It’s the helmet, it protects me from telepaths.’
‘Like me.’ Charles finished.
Charles curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and tugging them close. ‘Telepaths are dangerous. You shouldn’t associate with them.’
A winged girl by the name of Angel had said those words to him by way of warning, the first and only time they had met. Angel had sneered and shrugged at Erik’s offer to join them and resolutely told them to fuck off when she realised Emma’s ability.
Charles stretched out one shrivelled hand and called the forgotten coin to him, curling his fingers and letting it dance between them.
Erik released a breath in awe. ‘You’re not dangerous, you’re very powerful.’
The coin dropped and hit the ground flat. ‘So is the rabid dog that breaks its chain.’
Charles snapped his eyes up and pulled a memory to the forefront of Erik’s mind. Great German shepherds, teeth bared and snarling, straining at the chains in the hands of soldiers.
Erik’s mouth thinned into a line. ‘Don’t do that again.’
Charles cocked his head, curling his lips into a sinister smile. ‘What, this?’
Unbearable heat insulated by the surrounding metal, bodies packed against each other, no room to move, sit, breathe. The train rattled and he can sense every piece of iron surrounding them, but it doesn’t help, not when he can smell the sizzling flesh of one who leant against the metal.
Snarling like one of the dogs he despised, Erik summoned the helmet to himself and advanced on the smaller man.
‘Purple! Purple!’ Charles cried, wriggling and dodging Erik’s hands.
Erik pinned him by the wrists as he wrestled the helmet onto the shaved head, using his powers to hold it there even as Charles slumped to the side. He considered using the piece of metal as the others had, to seal the helmet to Charles, but just as the bar rattled on the other side of the room, Azazel appeared with Mystique.
Charles smiled, slow and relieved, his blue eyes fixated on the roof. The jagged lines of the helmet were somehow softened by his expression, like one who found solitude and peace after years of searching.
Standing behind him, Mystique simply gushed about the place they found and Erik ordered the teleporter to find a wheelchair, which was brought almost immediately. Charles allowed himself to be lifted and placed upright, his feet positioned onto the footrest. The dark red cape was draped across his legs and tucked around his thighs. He reached out and touched Erik’s forearm, stopping him for a moment.
‘I’m sorry.’ He said, but didn’t elaborate.
Erik frowned and stood, grabbing the handles of Charles’s wheelchair. Azazel touched Erik and held Mystique close. There was a tight tug and they vanished from the factory, reappearing miles away on the slightly overgrown grounds of the Xavier mansion.
(Chapter Four)
Characters and pairings: Charles/Erik, background Mystique/Azazel, whole cast.
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Medical experimentation and torture, psychic violation, some disturbing imagery. Warning for this chapter: Imagery of the train cars transporting people into Auschwitz.
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 thread)
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 + Chapter One
Thanks heaps to carpediem_14 for the German!
Heart still thudding at the show of power, Erik frowned and leant forward. ‘Is that your name?’
‘My name.’ Charles repeated dumbly for a moment. ‘Erik Lensherr.’
A sad smile tugged at Erik’s lips. ‘Yes, that’s me.’
Charles shot him a small concerned look, hunching his shoulders inwards, trying to take up the least amount of space possible. ‘Lensherr, Erik, Herr Doktor. Manchmal bewegt sich Metall, wenn ich es will. Ich kann es nicht kontrollieren.’
Erik remembered being frightened, speaking those words in the same trembling voice. Sometimes metal moves when I tell it to. I can’t control it. Slipping into German, Erik asked for the man’s age. ‘Wie alt bist du?’
‘Vierzehn, Herr Doktor.’
Fourteen. God, he was only just at Shaw’s hands at that age, beginning the torture that would turn him into the man he is, a young boy, so easily influenced and manipulated. Erik focused on the image in front of him, a grown man, stubble covering his chin and jaw line, worry lines creased into his forehead, age-old eyes that squeezed shut at the image they received.
‘Nein, das stimmt nicht. Ich bin nicht.’ Charles muttered. ‘No, that’s not right, is it? Differentiate.’ His eyes slid open, catching Erik’s. He unravelled himself, timidly presenting his left hand, outstretched for a handshake. ‘Charles Xavier. How do you do?’
Erik quickly bit down on a smile at the propriety, grasping the other man’s hand with his own. ‘Erik Lensherr.’
Charles seemed completely disinterested in Erik’s name, immediately tugging on the other man’s hand and pulling him closer. He tightened his grip and rotated, forcing the underside of Erik’s forearm upwards. Thin fingers worked under the cuff of Erik’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing the sleeve up to his elbow.
214782
Charles let out a little gasp of relief, trailing his fingers over the blue ink with reverence. Erik steeled a little, his jaw clenching shut at the blatant reminder marring his skin. Charles shook his head insistently.
‘No, no. Look. See.’ Charles rotated his own forearm to reveal two parallel black lines running from halfway up his forearm to his thin wrists, where they joined in a jagged connection.
He must have picked up on Erik’s confusion, because he leant forward and pressed the heel of his hand into Erik’s forehead. Feeling more than slightly ridiculous, Erik had to go cross-eyed to focus on the tattoo.
It was a capital M, tattooed across Charles’s wrist, with the tails elongated down his forearm.
‘M for mutant. M for mistake.’ Charles murmured. ‘M for… m-matrimony.’
Erik’s eyebrows cocked at the last word on the list, but Charles merely met him with a wry smile. Erik couldn’t help but let a small huff of amusement escape him, and Charles grinned back at him, his fingers tracing over the blue numbers and the black M in turn.
‘Do you see?’ Charles asked, his voice dropping to an amazement filled whisper. ‘Do you collaborate?’
Erik laid their arms side by side. ‘We’re not very different, are we?
‘I’ve been so alone.’ Charles smiled up at him, thin and watery.
Erik’s hands gripped his, huge hands that dwarfed his completely. ‘No, Charles, not any more. You’re not alone.’
Charles let out a strangled gasp, eyes suddenly blinking back tears. His hands weakly clutched at the front of Erik’s shirt, alternating between spreading the collar flat with his palms and crumpling it under his fingers.
Erik chuckled slightly and drew the other man in close, wrapping his arms around the fragile shoulders.
Finally, Charles shuddered and sobbed.
Fat, wet tears rolled down Charles’s cheeks, soaking in Erik’s shirt. The sharp prickles of his shaved head ticked Erik’s neck. Snot and tears flowed freely, turning Charles into a blubbering mess.
It wasn’t dignified, but survival rarely was.
‘Erik, they-they made me find us, mind is been so full, so empty in my blood.’ Charles sobbed, the words almost unrecognisable.
‘Sh, shh.’ Erik soothed awkwardly, his gloved hands patting lamely on the other man’s back. He tried desperately to grasp for a memory, perhaps one of his mother, but the primary thought in his mind only amounted to What the fuck do I do?
‘Objectively aware of others sharing my mutation. Not just OCA2, but locked deeper… inside genetic coding.’ Charles rambled. ‘I miss others. Unbound nucleotide, thymine w-without adenine. T without A. N-need A to correctly function.’
Erik drew on a scrap of knowledge he’d read in a dusty book. ‘DNA?’ The scientists were doing research into the causes of these mutated abilities. Perhaps they had found it.
Charles gave him a look that made him feel like an idiot. ‘How much Nurture did you think was involved? Did you think teddy-’ Charles stopped and looked horrified for a moment. ‘Where’s my teddy?
Completely at a loss, Erik could only cock an eyebrow. ‘Uh…’
Charles’ eyes darted around the empty room. ‘Where’s he gone? Teddy?’
‘He’s insane.’ Emma remarked.
‘Don’t like ice lady.’ Charles snapped. ‘Bad, mean ice lady, who melts brimstone.’ He wrinkled his nose in distaste, then flicked back to his search. ‘Teddy, he’s…’ at a loss of how to describe the lost companion, he bent in half and grabbed for his leg, hauling it closer to wrap his hands around his limp foot. ‘He’s my teddy; he told without speaking, I’ll get you out.’
The thought had hardly even crossed Erik’s mind when Charles brightened. ‘Yes! The kid! I found him like the others.’ Charles’ expression shifted, and he raised a hand and touched Erik’s nose and eyes lightly. ‘Didn’t find you. Were you hiding from me? Under the floorboards?’
‘No.’ Erik shook his head resolutely, then indicated behind him. ‘It’s the helmet, it protects me from telepaths.’
‘Like me.’ Charles finished.
Charles curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and tugging them close. ‘Telepaths are dangerous. You shouldn’t associate with them.’
A winged girl by the name of Angel had said those words to him by way of warning, the first and only time they had met. Angel had sneered and shrugged at Erik’s offer to join them and resolutely told them to fuck off when she realised Emma’s ability.
Charles stretched out one shrivelled hand and called the forgotten coin to him, curling his fingers and letting it dance between them.
Erik released a breath in awe. ‘You’re not dangerous, you’re very powerful.’
The coin dropped and hit the ground flat. ‘So is the rabid dog that breaks its chain.’
Charles snapped his eyes up and pulled a memory to the forefront of Erik’s mind. Great German shepherds, teeth bared and snarling, straining at the chains in the hands of soldiers.
Erik’s mouth thinned into a line. ‘Don’t do that again.’
Charles cocked his head, curling his lips into a sinister smile. ‘What, this?’
Unbearable heat insulated by the surrounding metal, bodies packed against each other, no room to move, sit, breathe. The train rattled and he can sense every piece of iron surrounding them, but it doesn’t help, not when he can smell the sizzling flesh of one who leant against the metal.
Snarling like one of the dogs he despised, Erik summoned the helmet to himself and advanced on the smaller man.
‘Purple! Purple!’ Charles cried, wriggling and dodging Erik’s hands.
Erik pinned him by the wrists as he wrestled the helmet onto the shaved head, using his powers to hold it there even as Charles slumped to the side. He considered using the piece of metal as the others had, to seal the helmet to Charles, but just as the bar rattled on the other side of the room, Azazel appeared with Mystique.
Charles smiled, slow and relieved, his blue eyes fixated on the roof. The jagged lines of the helmet were somehow softened by his expression, like one who found solitude and peace after years of searching.
Standing behind him, Mystique simply gushed about the place they found and Erik ordered the teleporter to find a wheelchair, which was brought almost immediately. Charles allowed himself to be lifted and placed upright, his feet positioned onto the footrest. The dark red cape was draped across his legs and tucked around his thighs. He reached out and touched Erik’s forearm, stopping him for a moment.
‘I’m sorry.’ He said, but didn’t elaborate.
Erik frowned and stood, grabbing the handles of Charles’s wheelchair. Azazel touched Erik and held Mystique close. There was a tight tug and they vanished from the factory, reappearing miles away on the slightly overgrown grounds of the Xavier mansion.
(Chapter Four)