Dichotomy | By : LeDiable Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Slash - Male/Male > Charles/Erik Views: 2816 -:- 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. |
My entire adult life has been consumed by a single-minded desire for revenge. I have traveled the world, met hundreds of different people, taught myself just enough phrases from different languages to get the information that I need, and left a long trail of bodies. I have no 'off' time or time to myself. I eat because I am hungry, I sleep because I am tired, and everything in between is just stepping stones to finding the man who murdered my mother. There is no relaxation, no relief. If I slack off for even a moment, I could miss the chance to catch the man who ruined my life and the lives of hundreds of thousands of others.
My powers only work if I tap into that underlying anger and let it guide me. When I want I can move mountains of metal, but only if I am in the right frame of mind. Most days I can only move small things: guns, jewelry, coins. I kept the coin that began all this as a remembrance of what I was striving for, what I had lost. Every once in a while I feel a twinge of pain that it has become so easy to move now, instead of when I really needed it to save my mother's life.
I haven't had friends since my family was taken away from me. I never needed them. Why bother being nice and friendly when force and hostility worked better and faster? There was never any need to have friends and allies. Until I met him.
The breath was quickly leaving my lungs and it was only through sheer force of will that I was still down beneath the water trying with all my might to make the submarine stop. I hadn't planned this out well. I thought Shaw would be alone. Surely no one would want to ally with him. His evil must have marked itself somehow on his flesh as it had on mine.
Yet he looked exactly as he had eighteen years ago. Better even. I lost control of myself even after realizing I was outnumbered and outgunned. What right did he have to look so healthy when my mother was rotting underground? This was my only chance. I had to make it count. I threw the knife at him, and I tried to crush him with the boat's anchor, all for what? That extra effort had just left me drowning in the water.
Water closed all around me and I was submerged. It was dark and cold despite my wetsuit. Points of light flashed around my eyes and I knew if I didn't let go soon I would drown. And yet I couldn't make myself release my hold on the submarine, I had to kill him, I had to make him pay. The submarine continued its slow descent, pulling me down with it into the murky depths.
A weight surrounded my neck, but I barely noticed it. A voice in my head, "Erik, I know what this means to you but you have to stop." That was harder to ignore. My resolve flickered and the submarine surged ahead. "You have to let go." The voice commanded again. Everything was growing dim. I reached out one last desperate time and nothing happened. The link snapped and I let myself float to the surface. The submarine disappeared into the depths.
The world became full of lights and sounds and air. Someone was holding on to me and saying something about how I was crazy to do this though he understood. But this was all a blur. All I cared about right then was making sure my lungs were full of air. He yelled at me to calm my mind. My thoughts slowed down and it was easier to breathe. What he had done scared me, I hadn't thought that there had been others like me, others who had powers that made them different. He smiled indulgently as I told him. The thought that I would never be alone again was both terrifying and exhilarating.
He properly introduced himself later after we had been pulled onto the ship and taken down to the medical bay. "Charles Xavier." He held out his hand for me to shake and I did. His handshake was firm and warm, while I'm sure mine was cold and limp. That was embarrassing, I couldn't show weakness or they would exploit it. But he seemed so harmless just on the outside. He had a disarming smile and an easy carefree way about him that I almost couldn't help trusting him.
"Erik Lensherr.” I managed a weak smile before more water decided that it didn't belong in my lungs. My lungs gasped for air for a brief moment before they resumed their proper function. The ship's doctor listened to my chest and said that I most likely hadn't done any damage. He gave me a grey wool blanket. It was small comfort against the rapidly increasing chill from my wetsuit.
The ship's doctor offered me a shot of whiskey and I drank it. It burned all the way down. I became aware of an almost all-consuming fatigue. My life had consisted of searching and running for so long it had to catch up with me sometime. I slumped down on the cot while Charles said something about the CIA putting together a mutant team. Finally he realized that I wasn't listening and instead talked to the CIA operative, Moira, for a while. I let myself drift.
We reached shore and Charles introduced me to his sister, Raven, after she had berated him for leaving her alone. She was young, shy and unsure of herself. For a brief moment I thought she might have something more to her than it appeared. Yet no one said anything and while I thought I caught a glimpse of her eyes changing colors it didn't seem like she was going to say anything either.
They allowed me to stop at my hotel and pick up my things. I didn't have many, just a small briefcase and a few changes of clothes. That joined the maps, pictures, and other assorted items I had amassed over the years tracking Shaw down. Somehow I had agreed to travel with them to Washington, D.C. and visit a CIA covert facility specifically designed with our needs in mind. It sounded like a prison, but I had no choice. They had seen what I could do and I knew that there was no chance of leaving without them wanting to know where I was going. And with the trail of bodies that I was sure to leave behind I knew that wasn't an option. Charles seemed to trust them, perhaps I could take a chance and trust him.
The director of the facility took us on a tour and introduced us to all of his motley crew. Charles uncovered that he had at least one mutant already working for him, Hank McCoy, an earnest looking man who delighted in being able to show off for us. It was mildly interesting, but this was just a detour on my quest for revenge.
The facility at least seemed secure and state of the art. Certainly a safe place to rest for a moment before resuming my search. Shaw was out there somewhere and I had to make him pay. I went to my room and slept for a while before deciding to see just how secure this place actually was. No one molested me on my way to the director's office. He had gone home long before. The lock was relatively simple to pick, it only took a little bit of my power and concentration before the tumblers aligned and I gained access. His office was neat and tidy, almost as if he was never there.
I opened his filing cabinets and was delighted to find that he kept things in some semblance of order and the file for Sebastian Shaw was exactly where it should have been. It wasn't as thick as my file on Shaw, the government apparently hadn't put together the connections between him and the other identities that he had assumed throughout the years. Still there were additional aliases and leads that I could follow. They didn't need the information as much as I did. The folder went into my briefcase. I toyed with the idea of leaving a note, surely Charles deserved at least that. He had saved my life. I decided against it. Writing a note would take time that I didn't have.
I was halfway between the building and the parking lot when he stopped me. Had it been anyone else I would have kept walking. He had a hold over me and I at least owed him the courtesy of hearing what he had to say. His points turned out to be valid. I couldn't do this alone, and I did need someone to help me. It was the one strategy that I hadn't tried yet. The only troubling thought was that he had read my mind, and he knew what had happened to me. My pain was my own burden. It was not one that I wanted to share and especially not with someone who could use it against me. I had to think about it.
I wound up walking down the road about a mile or so trying to mull over the pros and cons of taking on Shaw myself. At least now I knew what kind of followers he had. The telepath was troubling; she had managed to make me crumble. Moira had said that Shaw had other compatriots and I didn't know their powers as of yet, they could be just as powerful. And Shaw himself had to have powers of his own. If I was working with others, they could distract him and make it easier for me to exact my revenge. Still I couldn't let Charles know that he had won.
I hitchhiked to a hotel further down the road and then made my way back to the CIA base in the morning. Charles acted surprised to see me, but surely he had sensed my thoughts as I walked down the hallway. They were talking about assembling a team and some device they'd made to facilitate it. I didn't care as long as the government didn't decide to round up all the mutants that Charles had found. I wanted us to do it ourselves. He agreed and it was my turn to be surprised. Perhaps it hadn't been a bad idea to come back.
It was easy to travel in his shadow as he plucked the locations of mutants out of thin air. I was there as the muscle almost, the one who had a power that you could see. He had an easy way about him that attracted like-minded individuals. I don't think that all of it was due to his powers. I, on the other hand, scared people. It was not entirely unintentional. If people got close and knew me they tended to use what they learned against me. For a moment I was able to forget what I had to do and just enjoy myself. My life had been about capturing Shaw for so long that I had almost lost completely any idea of what a normal life was.
I was astounded at how freely Charles threw his money around. He booked suites at the choicest hotels and tried to purchase the most expensive and luxurious things on the menu. I almost thought that he was trying to impress me. When we had been back at the CIA base, he had been more normal, more down to earth. Here he was almost giddy at trying to show me the wonders of life outside searching for Shaw. I let myself be carried along in his wake. There had been no sign of Shaw for days, surely he would still be wherever he was after we had the team assembled.
Charles and I ate dinner together, went to bars together, in fact the only time we were apart was when we slept. And sometimes even that was shortened as we talked late into the night. Somehow that wasn't stifling. He proved to be a great conversationalist and seemed to actually care what I thought. And I found that I cared about his opinions, his ideas of what the world should be like for mutants and humans alike.
The hotel for the night was in a more dingy part of town, the only place that had rooms available that late. For once Charles and I had to room together. There was apparently an insurance convention in town and they had booked all of the rooms in the hotels closer to our next destination. I hadn't had to share with anyone since I had been much younger and I wasn't quite sure how I was supposed to act.
He had spread his things out throughout the room while I tried to keep mine confined to one area. The first thing he had done after unpacking was open up the liquor that he had purchased at the nearby liquor store. By the time that we had both unpacked most of it was gone. I couldn't claim that it was all due to him. I had matched him drink for drink. That had probably made me a lot more thoughtful than I normally would have been.
Chess was an almost constant diversion between us. Neither of us was very good. I don't even think that either of us really liked playing it, but it was something to distract our hands when we talked. So generally after pouring drinks and getting settled wherever we were one or the other of us would pull out the chess board and set it up.
After we had made a couple of moves, the mood seemed good enough to start a conversation. "Charles, do you think we're doing the right thing? I'm not sure that rounding up all of these mutants without telling them why we're doing it is a good idea.” The thought had come to me after we had promised Alex that he wouldn't have to linger in jail anymore. Maybe what he had to look forward to now was going to be even worse.
He took a sip of his drink and pondered his next move. "Were they really any better off the way they were before we found them?” His pawn took one of mine in a fluid motion. "At least now they know they aren't the only ones. Didn't you find some comfort in that?” His eyebrow raised and he met my eyes.
Anger threatened to boil over but I suppressed it. I had believed that I was better off on my own for so many years that any threat to that fiction was almost an attack. "Yes, but we're not talking about me are we?” I slammed my piece down hard on the chess board and he jumped but quickly recovered. "It's fine that we know about them. We're fellow mutants. But I think that any kind of list, anything that says who they are . . . that's just one step along the way to rounding us all up and getting rid of us.” I was thinking of the list of coordinates we had left behind in Cerebro. I was sure that once we had left with our copy the CIA had made a copy of their own to keep and investigate later.
He sat there staring at me, his mouth open in shock. I felt the rage building inside of me and I tried to head it off by walking over to the window. Charles wasn't the person I should have been angry at.
Outside everything was dark and quiet. The light from the flickering neon of the hotel's gaudy neon sign splashed across the parking lot. There was only a quarter moon and it cast a dim glow. A few cars sat abandoned and rusting at the back of the parking lot. The man working at the front desk had seemed surprised when we stopped in, though that soon disappeared when Charles opened his wallet and flashed his cash around.
I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the glass. It was cool and that went a long way toward making me reconsider my actions. When I turned around Charles was still pondering his next move. He twirled his queen around in his hand. I tried to meet his eyes but he had evidently decided to ignore me.
I sipped a little from my glass and slid back down into the chair opposite him. He was still more interested in the chess board. The tension was still there. And it was all because of me. Perhaps being alone hadn't been the best thing for me if it made me unable to relate to people that I actually liked and respected. And Charles was the first person in a while that I felt I could trust.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you were like them.” I finally said, keeping my eyes pointed firmly down at the chess board. Neither of us was truly winning, more just moving the pieces around.
He took my bishop with his queen. "I can understand why you're upset. Sometimes I feel the same way. But you have to realize that everyone isn't like the Nazis.” He took a swig of his drink. "I've worked with the CIA for a while now and I haven't heard anything that makes me fear that they're heading down that road.” I opened my mouth to protest. He raised his hand to head me off. "I'm completely aware that it is a possibility. Actually it's probably extremely likely it'll happen. But I want to give them a chance to lose my trust. I don't want to live in a world where I have to think that everyone's out to get me.” He went to take another drink out of his glass but it was empty. It was his turn to get up and calm down. When he pushed his chair back one of the legs hit the table and made all the pieces jump.
My glass was empty as well but I sensed that I was hitting the tipping point between sobriety and drunkenness. He ignored my gesture that I was done and refilled my glass then his own. I got the sense he was trying to work himself up to saying something. "I'm sorry that the world hurt you when you were younger. But I think you need to learn how to trust people again. Or at least how to trust one person.” He smiled at me wistfully.
I looked at the chess board's reflection through my glass. It took on an even greater amber cast. Charles sat down across from me again and sipped his drink thoughtfully.
"I think I do trust someone.” My hand touched my rook, one move and I could put his king in check. I met his eyes. "I trust you." I paused, then said, "As long as you stay out of my head."
A swirl of emotions passed over his face; fear, shock, surprise, and then happiness. "I'm honored," he said.
I laughed. "You did save my life." I started to move the rook when he touched my hand. There was a sense that even though he no doubt pitied me and thought that I was an almost animalistic slave to my desires he wanted to know me better. He wouldn't hurt me. His face moved closer, our cheeks almost touched. I closed my eyes. There was an almost feather light touch on my lips. His lips were soft and tasted of alcohol. My lips parted and our tongues touched briefly. His hand slowly glided over my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And then he moved away. I continued to hold my eyes closed, trying to keep the fleeting memory of his kiss alive.
It was the one of the first times that I'd had a kiss that I wanted to remember. Generally any kisses before had been rooted in a mindless desire for sex and release, they were painful harsh kisses that held no greater meaning or purpose.
The silence stretched out. I realized I was still holding on to the rook. It was heavy and warm in my hand. I placed it on the board, but not where I had meant to put it. Charles had assumed his previous position and was studying the board. A blush crept up his face. "Erik, I hope I didn't offend you."
I smiled and shook my head. "You'd have to do a lot worse than that to offend me." He smiled back.
I don't think we said anything else to each other the rest of the night.
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