Adult-FanFiction.org : Marvel 'Verse

Dichotomy	By : LeDiable Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Slash - Male/Male > Charles/Erik Views: 2817 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men:First Class, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
-5-
Raven found me in the morning. I must not have locked the door. Somewhere along the line she had discarded her uniform and decided to stay in her natural form. "What did you do to your hands?" she asked, holding them in her own. Mine were covered in crusted blood and bruises. They throbbed as she held them up to the light. I hadn't seen my face since a day or so ago, I'm sure it must have been obvious that I had been crying. "You have to clean up before they see you," she said, fear in her voice.
Somehow we managed to get into the bathroom without seeing anyone else. She pushed me in and shut the door behind me. It was a somewhat small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and bathtub. There was a drain in the center of the stained tile floor. It all smelled of cleaning fluid.
A corpse stared back at me from the mirror. My face was a shade of grey and dark circles punctuated my bloodshot eyes. Blood still dripped from the cuts on my forehead. I splashed cold water on my face and hoped that that was enough.
I filled the sink with water that was possibly hotter than I could stand. The mirror was thankfully soon covered with steam. I eased my hands down into the water. It burned at first and stung. Yet I kept them underneath the water. I braced my head against the mirror, I thought I was going to pass out. The heat burned all of the pain away for the moment. When I took my hands out of the water they almost looked like they belonged to someone else. They were pink and inflamed. As I watched the blood started to flow again I cursed.
Someone knocked on the door and then burst in. Raven. She was holding a first aid kit. She made me sit down on the toilet so she could look at my hands. I closed my eyes and tried to stop thinking about the pain as she slowly wrapped them in gauze. Once she was done she pulled out some black leather gloves she had gotten somewhere.
"You should probably wear these," she said, handing them over. I slid them on over the bandages with some difficulty. They were tight and painful. And yet they had to do. I allowed myself to wallow in the pain for a moment before pushing it all aside to deal with what had to be done next.
"Where are they?"
"Angel hasn't gotten up yet, but Azazel and Riptide are in the main room." She started to leave. I touched her arm and she looked at me questioningly.
"Raven, I appreciate your coming with me and helping me, but you know some things have to change."
"Like what?"
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, trying to let the pain flow over me. "We can't be Raven and Erik anymore. We have to be Mystique and Magneto. We left who we were before on the beach."
She looked troubled and taken aback. "Are you sure?"
I sighed. "If this is going to work we have to leave everything of our old identities behind." I could tell she didn't believe me and that was fine. I was mostly talking to myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Azazel and Riptide were both sitting at the table talking with each other when we came into the room. They stopped as I went to the head of the table and looked up at me expectantly. I grabbed onto the chair and instantly regretted it. Pain shot up from my hands and burned through my arms. I winced and hoped that they didn't notice it. "Before we do anything, where exactly are we?" I asked, looking at Azazel.
"Come, I'll show you." He took us down the hallway to the entrance of the bunker. As he opened the door to the outside the stale air seemed to rush out. It was somewhat cooler outside and it smelled like the forest. Gnarled and ancient trees grew out of the forest floor and twisted towards the sky. The mountain tops in the distance were topped with snow. Everything seemed pristine and natural. When I turned to look back at the entrance to the bunker it had almost disappeared into the trees. There was no road up to the bunker and no trace of any other humans around. I didn't know if I wanted to know how Shaw had done it. Mystique walked around in wonder. "It's so beautiful up here," she exclaimed.
Azazel smiled at her indulgently. "Yes, it is."
"What mountain range is this?" I asked, walking around the perimeter of the bunker. If you didn't know what to look for it was almost impossible to spot in the side of the mountain.
He exchanged a glance with Riptide. "This is one of Shaw's safe houses. It's in the Andes."
"How many safe houses does he have?"
"I'm not really sure. Emma would have a better idea of what properties he had."
"And what's in the file cabinets?"
"I know he had a lot of plans that he was working on. I think they're all in there somewhere."
I tapped my fingers on a tree. "I suppose Emma handled that too."
He looked somewhat surprised. "Well, yes. Shaw didn't really trust us with much of his plans." I gestured for everyone to go back inside. Though I would have liked to stay outside longer, there would be time enough to explore later.
Once we were back in the main room I sat back down at the table. "I suppose we'll have to rescue Emma then. Do you know where she's being held?"
Riptide got up and went to a stack of papers on top of one of the file cabinets. He set them down in front of me. I flipped through them quickly. They were maps and architectural drawings of the CIA building. There was apparently a lower level where prisoners were stored for transport. "We were going to go there after we had finished in Cuba," he said quietly. "Obviously we didn't get the chance."
"Alright." I glanced over the plans quickly, they were little to be worried about. "Mystique, go wake Angel up. We'll be leaving."
She nodded but hesitated before going into the hallway. "Are you going to wear that?" I looked down. I still had on the uniform Hank had made for me. It was covered in the dust and grime of the day - had it truly only been a day? - before. Everyone else seemed to see the problem before I did. "You can't wear that, they might think we're working with Charles."
Riptide nodded. "Shaw had something made for . . . after." He beckoned me over to one of the anterooms. There was a small closet inset into the wall. He opened the door almost reverently and then stepped back.
Shaw, in his infinite narcissism, had placed his costume into a mirrored closet. There was another helmet, this one gleaming red and purple, with an odd crest on the forehead. The rest of the costume consisted of a red jacket with a mandarin collar, black pants, and a black cape. This was what I had to wear? In a way this was what I needed in order to reinvent myself.
The suit didn't fit very well and it took a moment to get used to the feel of the cape trailing behind me. I thought of Mystique's suggestion for my codename. Erik might not wear this, but Magneto would. The helmet was the last piece of the transformation. As I placed it on my head my senses seemed to dim. The helmet obstructed my vision and I couldn't hear as well. That somehow made it easier to concentrate on the metal that surrounded us. This wasn't perfect but it would do.
I glanced over the plans again before turning to Azazel. "You're sure that you can teleport us close enough to her cell?" I asked, pointing to an area of the map that was close but not too close to where they were holding her.
He smirked. "Of course I can."
"Then do it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was only one guard on her cell and he was quickly dispatched quietly and bloodlessly. The door to her cell was thick and solid metal. It only lasted a few seconds before I was able to wrench it free and throw it to the side.
Emma put on a brave face as I entered the room. Her diamond form probably helped, though I could still see traces of the cracks around her neck that I had left. She eyed me suspiciously and braced herself against the table behind her. I almost pitied her.
"Are you here to kill me?" she demanded.
I shook my head. "Then this would be a wasted effort, wouldn't it? They tell me that you're the only one who knows all Shaw's secrets."
That made her feel more powerful and sure of herself. I could almost see the schemes forming in her mind as she looked at us. "Why do you need me? Where's your telepath friend?" She peered at the doorway behind me as if looking for him. All she saw was Mystique, Riptide, Angel, and Azazel. Confusion passed over her face and she raised an eyebrow.
Her question hit right in the spot that was still missing him. I hesitated for a brief moment and hoped that she didn't notice. "He's gone. It's left a bit of a gap." I leveled my gaze at her. "You were indispensable to Shaw. I was wondering if you could do the same for me."
She pondered this for a moment before deciding. "I'd be willing to help you. You said your name was Erik, I believe?"
I flinched at the name. It was a reminder of something I had decided was long past. "I prefer Magneto."
She shrugged and stepped over to join us. It only took a moment before we were back at the bunker.
"You took them here?" she asked Azazel, walking around the room. "I guess it makes sense, it was closest."
"How many of these does he have?" I asked. Emma laughed. Here, in the seat of her former power, she had rediscovered the strength that she had lost in the cell. She was no longer the frightened woman waiting for Shaw to return. This had to stop. I knew better than to trust her. She had most likely seen as much of my memories as Charles had.
"You mean how many of these do I have," she said, smiling. She sat down at the head of the table and put her feet up. "All of his properties and his bank accounts are in my name." Her cold calculating eyes swept over me once more. "I don't mind working for you as long as the goal is still the same. We are the dominant species and we deserve recognition of our status."
I nodded, slowly working some of the electrical cords that had been dumped on the floor around her arms on the armrests. Once she noticed she started to struggle. I tightened them. "The only thing you need to remember is that I'm in charge," I said quietly. Her eyes were full of fear. I slowly worked a cord up to her neck. She flinched as it encircled her throat.
"You're in charge," she hissed as it started to constrict. I gently let her free. The look of resentment that she gave me almost made me regret it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night I returned to my room and removed the gloves. The pain that had been lurking under the surface all day sprang to the forefront. My hands started to throb as blood rushed to my fingers. Blood coated the gauze and it was damp with sweat. When I removed it my knuckles were scabbed over and swollen. I cursed my stupidity. Raven . . . Mystique had left the roll of gauze on the night stand and I replaced it gently, covering my hands up with white. Then I turned to the two files that I had brought into my room: Emma's and my own.
Shaw had apparently gotten Emma to agree to a limited testing of her powers. Her telepathic range was somewhat short compared to Charles' and it could not penetrate thick walls. My hands shook as I removed the helmet and placed it on the night stand. I tried to pay attention to see if I felt her trying to take control of me. There was nothing. That made it easier to relax. While I wasn't completely safe from her powers here at least I knew what her limits were.
I put her file aside and opened up my own. Some of the pages had faded and were beginning to crumble. I read through a few of Shaw's entries and saw how he had remade me in his image. Every torture was meticulously detailed along with a short description of what I had been able to do afterwards. I was only able to read a few entries before I put the file away in the night stand. No one else needed to find it and discover what had happened to me.
I fell into a dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know they didn't trust me. I didn't trust them either. We had been thrust together spontaneously without really getting to know each other first. For the most part they didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. That kind of loyalty was dangerous, because I knew that if anyone else was able to offer them something better they would consider it. With Charles and his team I had been able to let down my barriers somewhat. It hadn't felt like any of them would exploit my weaknesses. Here there was no telling what any of Shaw's former allies would do to gain power.
I think Azazel was the first to warm to me and that was because I had trusted him to take me back to the beach. He probably had the least incentive to leave out of anyone. His appearance would mark him wherever he went, even more so than Mystique's. Riptide was extremely quiet and kept mostly to himself. I didn't know if that was because he was angry at me for killing Shaw or if he was just shy. Angel had been promised the moon by Shaw and her willingness to betray Charles would make it always a question as to whether or not she would remain loyal. I suspected she would-the world we were planning was more appealing than taking the less confrontational option.
Of them all Emma was perhaps the biggest threat. She knew all of Shaw's secrets and her fortune rivaled his. Even if the others didn't go with her, she would always be able to find allies. Often when I left my room in the morning I would find her standing in the hallway waiting for me. I had taken to wearing the helmet a majority of the time to avoid any of her telepathic assaults.
Mystique was probably the closest thing I had to a friend and still I could not trust her completely. She had left Charles after he had been unable to provide the environment that she needed. I had a feeling that she wouldn't hesitate to leave if something more appealing came up.
They were all that I had to work with and so I decided to make the best of what I had. We spent mornings practicing-though Emma generally declined to take part. Azazel and Riptide had worked together for a long time and were comfortable with each other's powers. Adding Angel, Mystique, and myself made things a bit more difficult. Still it seemed that we were making progress.
Afternoons I either let them practice more or we all started to sort through Shaw's plans to see if there was anything that we could do to advance the cause of mutants. His plans ranged from kidnaping government officials to starting an all out nuclear war where nothing would survive. This bunker was one of many where he hoped to hide the 'best' mutants to create his new world. One day I had Azazel take me to some of the other ones. They were either up in the mountains or deep down in the earth, wherever Shaw thought there was the smallest chance of detection.
Every few days Azazel would teleport one of the others to the nearest large city to purchase supplies and get news from the outside world. There was nothing from Charles and no mention about the revelation of mutants to the world at large. All the newspapers talked about was the negotiations between the United States and Russia about removing the missile bases in Cuba. Even though we had saved the world there still was a mess to clean up. Our part would never be mentioned and indeed was glossed over as a mechanical accident on one of the battleships. I wondered what Charles thought about that. I never went on the trips to the city. I didn't think I could show myself until I had become more comfortable with the persona I had created for myself. Magneto had to actually do something before I would leave.
Evenings were free. I tended to keep to myself, though sometimes Mystique would try and join me. Even though she and Angel had bonded somewhat she came to me when she wanted to reminisce about Charles and the life she had left behind. I let her. It was a small attempt to keep her trust.
"Do you think he's okay?" she asked one night after the others had gone to their rooms. It seemed like every time I thought I had compartmentalized what had happened with Charles something or someone would remind me.
We were both sitting in the main room, or the war room as they had started to call it. I had been trying to figure out the best way to get into a missile silo. Maps and architectural drawings were spread all over the surface of the table. Joining them were books in a few different languages detailing proper storage and transport guidelines for the warhead. When she asked the question I was trying to read the fine print with a magnifying glass on one of the larger maps. Her question ruined my concentration. I dropped the magnifying glass on the table and rubbed at my eyes. I tried never to think of what had happened to him. In my mind he was still whole and healthy. "I went back to make sure they took care of him. He was fine then." Each word was like a knife twisting in my gut. The chances of him being fine were slim to none. She knew it as well as I did.
She put down the magazine that she had been flipping through and looked at me. Even though she very rarely wore clothing she said she needed to keep up on the latest fashions so that she could blend in when she left the bunker. "You always seem sad when you talk about him. You should talk to him. I'm sure he doesn't really blame you."
"I don't want to talk to him," I said. I hunched over the table and tried to pretend that I was still pouring over the architectural designs. In reality I felt like I was going to vomit. Seeing Charles again would be a chance for redemption. Yet my biggest fear was that he'd look at me with the same disappointed eyes he had on the beach. I wanted to see him again when I could prove that I had become better and stronger without him.
She sighed and walked over to my chair at the table. Her finger touched my chin and then gently prodded my head up to look at her. "I could be him for you if you want." She shifted into his form. I had to close my eyes. Even though I knew it wasn't him I still couldn't look at him. It hurt too much. And still I had almost said yes and given in. We could have had a proper last meeting, I could have explained everything. That didn't matter if it wasn't truly Charles.
I pulled away from her and put my head in my hands. "Stop it!" I could see her slowly change back through my fingers. Her blue skin overtook his and I could only watch in horror. It was like slowly reliving that day on the beach all over again. The guilt that I tried to keep under control slowly roused itself and twisted in my gut.
"Don't do that again," I snapped.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to help." She folded up her magazine and ran out of the room. I would have followed her and apologized had I not still been caught up in the vision of him. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down and hit that place we had found together once more. Without him I had never been able to find that point between anger and peace. I hated to think that my powers were dependant on him. When I opened my eyes Emma was standing in the doorway. Funnily she was wearing more clothing than she generally did. The white nightgown that she was wearing may have been low cut but it was made of a solid material and she almost looked matronly in it. She smirked as she watched me scramble for the helmet. I had thought she had gone to bed otherwise I would never have taken it off.
"If I wanted to attack you I would have done it by now." She stepped closer, slowly running her fingers over the pages on the table. "You two were being quite loud. It was hard to get any sleep." Her lips formed a pout.
"I'm sorry. Mystique was . . ."
"He survived you know." She said it as if she was remarking on the weather. "He's paralyzed but that was to be expected."
I tried not to betray how desperate for information I was. "How did you find this out?"
She threw a pamphlet on the table. Emblazoned on the front was a circle with an X in the middle. Beneath it was printed "The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters". I opened it to the first page and there was his picture. He didn't look like the man that I had known. The photograph had taken away his devil may care attitude and charisma. He was a younger version of the portrait that had glared at me in the hallway. The pamphlet was written to appeal to those with special gifts, offering them a place to study with other gifted individuals. What exactly gift meant was never defined. The photographs were glossy and crisp. I saw Hank, Alex, and Sean either teaching or acting the part of student with other teenagers I didn't know. There was a classroom photograph that caught my attention most of all. Charles sat at the professor's desk in a wheel chair. "Where did you get this?"
Emma had taken a seat at the other end of the table and was examining her nails. "I don't just go clothes shopping on my days off. I have a few contacts that run in his circle. They passed this along. I thought you'd be interested." She got to her feet slowly. "She's right, you do look sad when you talk about him," she said flatly and then left. I was surprised she'd actually made the effort. Usually our interactions were short and acrimonious. I almost suspected she had planned all this to see if she could upset me. On some level she had succeeded. I had finally reached a point where I didn't wake up every day nauseous thinking about what I had done to him. This was likely to send me back to the place I was a few weeks ago.
Now there was no chance of my getting any work done. I folded up the maps and found some scissors. The paper was easy to cut and it was only a moment before I had both of the pictures of him separated from the rest of the pamphlet. I used the magnifying glass to look at them more closely. The photograph from the front page showed a man who was confident in his abilities and had an inner strength that drew people to him. His eyes still had the same resolute gaze they had when I had seen them last, but the camera had softened that somewhat. I wondered if a picture of me would look as strong. The classroom photograph was a little different. He had let his guard down somewhat and looked as if he was forcing himself to go through the motions. Had he finally been unable to hide his weariness behind a cloak of false happiness? I took both of the pictures and walked outside into the forest.
Normally whenever I left the bunker I would wear the helmet. Tonight I left without it. I had no doubt that Hank would have rebuilt Cerebro the first opportunity he had. It felt odd to stand outside and feel the wind in my hair. The stars sparkled between the tree branches that stretched seemingly endlessly ahead. I walked to the clearing where we normally practiced and sat down on one of the rocks we used to mark the border. I put the pictures on the ground in front of me. He stared up at me from the leaves and dirt.
"I'm sorry." I whispered to him. Maybe this could give me the temporary absolution that I sought. I sat there for a while in the vain hope that he would touch my mind again and I would be able to feel the peace that was only made by the two of us together.
End
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dichotomy