Five Lessons Charles Taught Someone, and One Lesson Erik Took Pains to Explain, 1/6
Title: Five Lessons Charles Taught Someone, and One Lesson Erik Took Pains to Explain, 1/6
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Characters: Charles, William Stryker
Rating: PG
Word Count: 891 (part one)
Summary: Does what it says on the tin. Currently a WIP. Part One: Charles deals with some trespassers.
Five Lessons Charles Taught Someone, and One Lesson Erik Took Pains to Explain
Lesson One: Strength and Physical Ability Are Not Directly Proportional Quantities
Lieutenant William Stryker crouched in the bushes outside of Charles Xavier’s mansion and waited.
Something’s not right, he thought. There should have been warnings. An alarm. Even if Xavier was alone, surely they had some sort of defensive system. Especially if Xavier was alone.
Well, no matter. Maybe the mutant felt safe enough in his mansion, secluded as it was, protected by a government that only cared about scandal. Either way, Charles Xavier hadn’t been seen with his X-Men in well over a year, and there was little doubt he acted as anything more than a figurehead for his band of freaks. And with all the others out on missions, it should not be too difficult to take down a man in a wheelchair and a few frightened children, telepath or not.
The order to move in came soon enough, and William sat up and peered in through the window he was ducking beneath. Looked like he found the kitchen. There was a night-light next to the sink, but no one was inside. Carefully, he took out his tools and got to work. He’d just managed to unlatch the window when he heard a tinkling of glass from the other side of the mansion. He held his breath for a moment, but no lights came on, no warning yells sounded out, and after a minute he took up his M16 and crept towards the second floor, where, according to their intel, the children would be sleeping.
It was strange, though; although the captain had said the thermal scans showed seventeen life signs in the house, seemingly asleep, all the bedrooms William came across were empty. There were toys and pictures and clothes strewn about, and beds with rumpled covers that looked like someone had just gotten up, but no children- even though he had been sure he’d heard someone breathing in one of them. Odder still, though he’d been in the house a good ten minutes, searching the bedrooms for any signs of life, William had not run into a single one of his fellow soldiers. He even tried calling out a few times, quietly, but no one answered.
It was eerie, and William started getting a very bad feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
The feeling only intensified when he ducked out of a bedroom into a hallway and found himself facing a young man in a wheelchair.
"Hello," said Charles Xavier.
William brought his rifle up aimed, but just before he fired it, he realized he didn’t really want to shoot anything, least of all an unarmed human, and he found himself taking apart the rifle and setting the pieces down on the floor gently; too much noise would wake the children.
"Good boy," Xavier said, smiling. He was a rather slight man, not very threatening, with a mop of floppy black hair that looked immaculate. His hands were resting lightly on the wheels of his chair, but William didn’t miss the way his fingers gripped the rims.
He’s got the upper hand now, but if I can just distract him long enough to-
"Oh, I really wouldn’t try that." Xavier was still smiling, but there was something behind it, something made of steel and iron and raw, unyielding force that stopped William in his tracks. "All the other men you came with are sleeping peacefully - much as I would be if you hadn’t interrupted. The only reason you’re still awake is because I know your father and I have no doubts he’s the one behind your little...expedition."
William tried to speak, but he found suddenly that his mouth wouldn’t open.
"Now, then, here’s what’s going to happen," Xavier continued, and William found himself lost in that voice, which seemed to lecture and calm at the same time, and everything it said was right...
William blinked, and found himself in the kitchen again. He was standing in front of the open window, just as he’d come in, and the night light by the sink was still on. For a fleeting moment, William wondered if he had hallucinated a half hour, but just before he noticed that his rifle was missing, a feeling of lightness crept into his head, and he thought what a good idea it would be to drag the soldiers outside, into the truck they’d come in, drive back to Washington, and destroy all information regarding the location of Charles Xavier’s school.
It was a very different lieutenant who faced his father when he got back to D.C.
The next morning, Lieutenant William Stryker and his captain reported to William Stryker, Sr., and the director of the CIA. It was a long debriefing, though fruitless. Neither William nor Captain Simms, like the rest of the men, remembered anything after leaving for their mission, and the only hint that they had found Xavier was a note, pinned to William’s pocket, in William’s own handwriting.
You waited until Erik and the others were absent to attack, it said. Please do not think your soldiers’ lives mean that I am weak; threaten the children again, and Erik Lensherr will be the least of your worries.
William, naturally, had no memory of writing it.
Click here for part two.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Characters: Charles, William Stryker
Rating: PG
Word Count: 891 (part one)
Summary: Does what it says on the tin. Currently a WIP. Part One: Charles deals with some trespassers.
Five Lessons Charles Taught Someone, and One Lesson Erik Took Pains to Explain
Lesson One: Strength and Physical Ability Are Not Directly Proportional Quantities
Lieutenant William Stryker crouched in the bushes outside of Charles Xavier’s mansion and waited.
Something’s not right, he thought. There should have been warnings. An alarm. Even if Xavier was alone, surely they had some sort of defensive system. Especially if Xavier was alone.
Well, no matter. Maybe the mutant felt safe enough in his mansion, secluded as it was, protected by a government that only cared about scandal. Either way, Charles Xavier hadn’t been seen with his X-Men in well over a year, and there was little doubt he acted as anything more than a figurehead for his band of freaks. And with all the others out on missions, it should not be too difficult to take down a man in a wheelchair and a few frightened children, telepath or not.
The order to move in came soon enough, and William sat up and peered in through the window he was ducking beneath. Looked like he found the kitchen. There was a night-light next to the sink, but no one was inside. Carefully, he took out his tools and got to work. He’d just managed to unlatch the window when he heard a tinkling of glass from the other side of the mansion. He held his breath for a moment, but no lights came on, no warning yells sounded out, and after a minute he took up his M16 and crept towards the second floor, where, according to their intel, the children would be sleeping.
It was strange, though; although the captain had said the thermal scans showed seventeen life signs in the house, seemingly asleep, all the bedrooms William came across were empty. There were toys and pictures and clothes strewn about, and beds with rumpled covers that looked like someone had just gotten up, but no children- even though he had been sure he’d heard someone breathing in one of them. Odder still, though he’d been in the house a good ten minutes, searching the bedrooms for any signs of life, William had not run into a single one of his fellow soldiers. He even tried calling out a few times, quietly, but no one answered.
It was eerie, and William started getting a very bad feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
The feeling only intensified when he ducked out of a bedroom into a hallway and found himself facing a young man in a wheelchair.
"Hello," said Charles Xavier.
William brought his rifle up aimed, but just before he fired it, he realized he didn’t really want to shoot anything, least of all an unarmed human, and he found himself taking apart the rifle and setting the pieces down on the floor gently; too much noise would wake the children.
"Good boy," Xavier said, smiling. He was a rather slight man, not very threatening, with a mop of floppy black hair that looked immaculate. His hands were resting lightly on the wheels of his chair, but William didn’t miss the way his fingers gripped the rims.
He’s got the upper hand now, but if I can just distract him long enough to-
"Oh, I really wouldn’t try that." Xavier was still smiling, but there was something behind it, something made of steel and iron and raw, unyielding force that stopped William in his tracks. "All the other men you came with are sleeping peacefully - much as I would be if you hadn’t interrupted. The only reason you’re still awake is because I know your father and I have no doubts he’s the one behind your little...expedition."
William tried to speak, but he found suddenly that his mouth wouldn’t open.
"Now, then, here’s what’s going to happen," Xavier continued, and William found himself lost in that voice, which seemed to lecture and calm at the same time, and everything it said was right...
William blinked, and found himself in the kitchen again. He was standing in front of the open window, just as he’d come in, and the night light by the sink was still on. For a fleeting moment, William wondered if he had hallucinated a half hour, but just before he noticed that his rifle was missing, a feeling of lightness crept into his head, and he thought what a good idea it would be to drag the soldiers outside, into the truck they’d come in, drive back to Washington, and destroy all information regarding the location of Charles Xavier’s school.
It was a very different lieutenant who faced his father when he got back to D.C.
The next morning, Lieutenant William Stryker and his captain reported to William Stryker, Sr., and the director of the CIA. It was a long debriefing, though fruitless. Neither William nor Captain Simms, like the rest of the men, remembered anything after leaving for their mission, and the only hint that they had found Xavier was a note, pinned to William’s pocket, in William’s own handwriting.
You waited until Erik and the others were absent to attack, it said. Please do not think your soldiers’ lives mean that I am weak; threaten the children again, and Erik Lensherr will be the least of your worries.
William, naturally, had no memory of writing it.
Click here for part two.