Charles Xavier

"…You haven’t already? You didn’t think something like this would happen eventually?"

"You should try to be a little bit more optimistic, Peter."

"Whenever you’re ready, Professor."

"Thank you for being so patient with me."

"Yes. But you’re not alone, Professor. You don’t need to do this by yourself." 

"You.. you have no idea how much that means, Jean."

Cain was sat at a small table and chair in Charles’s room, having moved the pieces of furniture to the window so that he might admire the view of the gardens below. He’d taken it upon himself too, to seek out his step-brother’s old tea set and make up a little welcoming spread for himself — he may as well, after all it wasn’t like Charles had had the decency to lay something out for him. Steam pooled up beneath the door to Charles’s en suite, and as he heard the shower come to a stop, Cain patted his lips dry with a napkin and, with a wide and bashful grin, stood to greet the man he’d been waiting for.

Charles ran his fingers through his damp hair as he emerged from the shower, sighing slightly as he did so. His eyes moved over to the towels before he glanced at the door, making his way out of the room, a siwrl of steam surrounding him as he exited the bathroom. If his suspicions were correct then there would be nobody to be either decent or indecent for anyway. Erik was gone. He stretched out his back, exposing himself completely before he felt a very familiar mind creep up to nudge the corner of his thoughts. "Cain," he fumbled over his words "you- you're dead." Now, his mind really was being cruel to him. "And I'm naked!" he almost yelled as he stumbled back to hide himself behind the bathroom door.

"Wait, you don’t have one already? Why am I not surprised."

"Thank you for that touch of faith, Alice."

"Pretty much…."

"Scott... I have no idea what to do."