Charles Xavier

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He followed her glance to the young men across the bar and shifted nervously. "Who, them?"

“Well I wasn’t!” Charles snaps.

He instantly regrets it. It isn’t Alex’s fault that he’s in this situation. Alex isn’t responsible for the pain in his back, or his lack of sleep, or Raven’s absence. Alex is merely avoiding him. 

Charles sighs and takes a moment to compose himself. He has half a mind to let Alex go, but he knows he won’t be able to stop worrying about him until he gets some answers as to where this avoidant behavior is coming from. 

He turns and stomps back to the couch, pretty much throwing himself onto it. His arms cross over his chest, making it very clear how much he  doesn’t want to be here.

Charles decides it’s best to proceed with caution. There’s no use in saying anything that’s going to upset Alex even more. He clears his throat and chooses his words carefully,  “Alex, I-I can’t help but notice you’ve been avoiding me lately.” 

He glanced over at the women at the bar and blushed slightly when he saw they were turned towards him. He combed his hair back with his fingers and stood, intending to approach them. Then he caught sight of Raven and moved towards her instead, giving the others an apologetic smile as he passed.

Night fell over Xavier’s School for Gifted Mutants, leaving the mansion uncharacteristically quiet. Students were tucked in their beds fast asleep and teachers had retreated to their rooms to unwind with a drink or a book.  

 Charles alone was still working. He looked up from his desk, where moonlight spilt over a stack of papers and a cold mug of tea. There was no one calling his name. No one asking for help, advice, or an extension on homework. He took a moment to savor the tranquility - a moment where he could just be himself and not the leader everyone expected him to be. 

Then he sensed a presence that he hadn’t felt in years. A smile crossed his face, though it soon turned into a frown brought on by worry and confusion. Why had she come? He shut his eyes and reached out to her telepathically.

“I wasn’t the one who turned it into a war.” 

Charles took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair, pointedly looking away from Erik. 

“Not when they’re threatening our kind.” His gaze never moves from Charles, pinprick pupils burning into averted eyes. “They forfeited that right when they started rounding us up. Angel, Banshee, Azazel - experimented on, killed. I watched Emma die in front of me.” 

She’d shattered into tiny sparks in front of him; when they’d caught the light of the inferno the Sentinels were spewing he’d thought of burning magnesium, then thought of nothing else for weeks. 

Death and war come as easily to Erik as breathing. He wants to unleash some of it back on the world, on the people he holds responsible for the suffering he’s been surrounded by for years.

When he opened his eyes, they burned with tears. How could people be so cruel? How could anyone justify such blatant disregard for another living soul?

Charles returned his gaze to Erik. This was where he was wrong - just because others are resorting to despicable measures doesn’t justify it. He shook his head. “It tells me they’re afraid. It tells me that now - more than ever - we need to show the world they have nothing to fear from us.”

Charles felt Sean’s fear and shut his eyes against the pain it caused him. The boy had endured more suffering than anyone should ever have to face. Mere glimpses of Sean’s past were enough to show this. The experimentation was torture. He felt the boy’s panic, his agony, and it brought tears to his eyes.  

Charles had promised to protect him and he had failed. 

Telepathically, Charles pulled away as much as he could without severing the link. It’s alright, Sean. I won’t hurt you. He winced at his words, knowing they were coming too late. He hadn’t been there when it really counted - when he could have prevented what had been done to him. Now he could only try to mend the damage. It’s me. Charles Xavier. I just want to talk to you.

All he could think of were the experiments. The delirium and hallucinations that had sometimes ensued, other times when people had been forced to use their mutations on others. Tricks and tests and everything that had left him in such a state, such torture as he never wanted to think of ever again, of the times he’d spent curled in the corner of a stone cold cell.

He had been so alone.

He lifted his hand to the side of his head and rested his fingers against his temple as he often did when concentrating on his abilities. Calming Sean enough to show him the truth without becoming too invasive was tricky, but Charles reckoned he could do it if he proceeded with caution.