Chapter Text
“Sanctuary! Sanctuary! SANCTUARY!” Charles screwed his eyes closed against the sudden, deafening return of his power. Erik’s mind was thunderous with rage and pride, and the sea of minds below only added to the din that bombarded his head. But it was his own mind which was the loudest.
His body was sweating with irrational panic. He knew the arms holding him were Erik’s, and that he wouldn’t hurt him. Yet his mind screamed at him to run, fight, escape. The din below grew impossibly louder as he fought with himself, and he clutched his head against it; unaware that Erik was talking to him worriedly. Oblivious as his friend set him down in a blanket lined cot and stroking his hair as he sobbed and babbled hysterically against the noise and the painful memory of Shaw, a heavy and disgusting weight on top of him.
Darkness began to creep upon him. The fear that had overtaken him was causing him to steadily hyperventilate, diminishing his air supply as he began to pass out. Logically, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was having a panic attack. It was probably triggered by Erik holding him, manhandling him so soon after his experience with Shaw; but he was powerless to stop it. White noise filled his head as his ears began to ring, his screwed eyes and clenched jaw slowly began to loosen as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Soon the cacophony in his head quietened, and the darkness took over.
oOo
Erik watched Charles’ body slump from the knot of panic with horror. The words that had escaped his friend’s mouth, in a scream, a sob, a pained whisper… he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.
It started softly at first; a whimpered hiccup, followed by a choked back sob. Slowly building into a seemingly endless litany of “oh, God, please, no. Please don’t touch me again, please. Kill me, please. Just don’t touch me.” The begging surprised Erik. At first he thought that Shaw had alienated Charles to him; that he’d finally realised the monster Erik was. That had hurt. But then the telepath whispered through a pained sob “please, Shaw, please don’t. Don’t touch me, Shaw. Please.” It was then that Erik noticed the bruises, revealed with the riding up of the telepath’s top.
The whole of Erik’s world juddered to a stop as he examined the marks that told the tale of someone gripping his friend’s hips tight. The places where nails had broken skin, and multiple bruises caused by someone readjusting his grip on a struggling participant made him nauseous. Not knowing what to do, Erik began to cry. He stroked the telepath’s hair and pressed gentle kisses to his clammy forehead. Willing Charles to wake up, he rocked him slowly, trying to take comfort from the rhythmic pulses of iron through the telepath’s bloodstream that told Erik his friend was at least still living.
Something else shifted in the room behind him, and he knew instinctively who it was, having felt his looming presence in this room hundreds, if not thousands of times before.
“You,” he growled, not looking up from Charles, unconscious in his bed. “You raped him, didn’t you?”
Shaw tutted behind him, his pace measured against the wooden floor. “It was my duty to make him suffer for his crimes. I offered him reprieve, and he didn’t take it.”
“You didn’t have to violate him!” He clutched Charles’ limp hand, using it to ground himself.
“As horrible as it was,” Shaw drawled, “it was the only way to make a telepath as strong as him pay.”
“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Erik whispered, tears rolling freely down his cheeks.
“Oh, but he did, dear Erik. His very existence was a crime. As is yours. I should have known you would risk your life trying to save him. Just as your own mother died trying to save you.”
Erik’s stomach dropped, “what?”
“Now, I’m going to do what I should have done twenty years ago.” Suddenly Erik felt the smooth arc of a metal blade through air, not noticing it whilst it was still.
He spun on his heels and flung out a hand, wrenching the knife from Shaw’s grip, causing him to pitch to the side in an effort to keep a hold of it. Shaw stumbled and fell to his knees by the wall, his head once again hidden behind that helmet. He must have picked it up from where Erik had left it on the balcony, once again using it to protect himself from interference.
The knife sailed into Erik’s hand at his call, the metal singing against his palm. Shaw back up a little, warily eyeing the knife hung loosely in Erik’s fist. “Now, now, Erik,” He cautioned, “you listen to me.”
Erik snarled, brandishing the blade and stalking to where his master knelt on the floor. “No, you listen!” He stopped at Shaw’s feet, looming over the man and shouting, “All my life you have told me the world is a dark, cruel place. But now, I see that the only thing dark and cruel about it is people like you!”
Erik threw away the knife, not wanting to give Shaw the satisfaction of becoming the monster he told him he was. “I am a mutant,” he growled, “and I am proud of it.”
“Erik?” Erik spun around at the sound of Charles’ voice, and saw him sat on the edge of the cot, wincing and clutching his head.
“Charles?” he dashed over to the cot and knelt at the telepath’s feet. He reached out to touch Charles, but hesitated as the telepath flinched at the sudden movement.
Erik heard a shift behind him and Charles’ eyes widened, locked on whatever was happening behind him. He could feel no metal, and a quick look behind him brought him face to face with Shaw, wielding a wooden stake above his head.
“No!” Erik growled, grabbing Charles and diving them both out of the way as Shaw plunged his weapon down into the space where the telepath had been. Clutching a gasping Charles, he staggered back out onto the balcony, throwing himself around a corner.
He could hear Shaw’s harsh breathing as he followed them out moments later. His master looked around, eyes narrowed, as if would help him spy them better. The metal-bender placed Charles gently to the ground and pressed a finger against his lips. The telepath watched him with wide eyes, and shook his head almost desperately. “Erik, don’t,” he whispered.
Ignoring him, Erik turned to face his aggressor, who had wandered further away from them in his search. He approached behind him carefully, his stance low and his palms down, calling metal from the lower levels up through the cracks in the ancient stone. Erik froze when Shaw stopped abruptly, and there was a moment of tense silence before the man began to move again, rounding the corner on the far end of the balcony, and out of Erik’s sight.
Cautiously, he moved forward, winding the liquefied metal around his fingers and hardening it like a crude iron fist. He pressed himself up against the wall and took a deep breath, preparing himself to move around the corner. Shaw had no more metal on him, and, as he couldn’t sense the helmet, he had no clue where his master was now that he was out of Erik’s sight. Stealing himself, he took a deep breath and dashed around the corner.
Shaw was waiting for him. Erik choked as a surprisingly strong hand gripped his neck, pushing backwards until he hung halfway off the balcony wall. He grunted, looking up into his master’s face, twisted into an ugly mask of rage. His skin had taken on an angry puce colour, and a vein jumped on his forehead. Usually cold grey eyes burned with a wild fury Erik had never witnessed in his master before.
“You go too far, Erik,” he spat, “you could have avoided this. Had you been loyal to me, I may have even let you live.” Erik whimpered and struggled against Shaw’s hand, but it didn’t shift one iota. In fact, even as he raised the wooden stake to strike him down, his strength didn’t waver one bit.
Charles suddenly appeared over Shaw’s shoulder, breaking a table leg over Shaw’s head with such strength, it should have at least thrown him off Erik. Instead, his whole body blurred upon impact, and his grip on Erik’s neck didn’t so much as weaken. Charles stumbled back as Shaw turned towards him, growling like a wild animal. Only then did he release a slowly choking Erik, now choosing to set his sights upon the telepath.
“You’re a mutant!” Charles gasped, backing up far too slowly. Shaw caught up to him easily. His master howled with rage and struck Charles across the face. The blow was so hard that Charles was thrown to the ground, and when he looked back up in alarm, Erik saw that his nose was bloody.
Shaw leant down and snatched at the collar of Charles’ shirt, pulling him close to his face and growling, “Don’t blaspheme! I am nothing like you!” Erik caught the fear in his telepath’s eyes, and he took his chance while Shaw was distracted.
The metal-bender leapt up and ran towards Shaw’s turned back. He wrapped his hands around Shaw’s helmet and dragged it off the man’s head, causing him to stumble back a little with the pull.
“NOW, CHARLES,” he yelled as Shaw spun around, beginning to charge towards him, stake raised.
Suddenly he froze, his eyes wild and body juddering with unleashed energy. Erik cringed, just waiting for something to happen, before catching sight of Charles, still sprawled on the ground, but with two fingers pressed hard to his temple. “Hurry, Erik,” he groaned, wincing at whatever he could see in Shaw’s head, “he’s fighting me.”
Erik growled and dropped the helmet, drawing to his full height in front of his old master. Shaw looked smaller like this, and for a moment, Erik wondered why he’s spent so many years terrified of the man in front of him.
“If you’re in there, I’d like you to know that I don’t believe a word you said,” Erik’s voice was a growl, “mutants are not monsters. I am not a monster.” He swallowed down the urge to punch the man in the face, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything to help Charles. “You killed my mother, so here’s what we’re going to do.”
“Erik,” Charles moaned from his place on the floor.
“I’m going to say the alphabet,” he crooned, echoing their old lessons with a simmering tone, “and you’re going to say the first thing that comes to your head.”
The metal he had curled around his fingers liquefied, and floated over to Shaw with a grace which belied Erik’s intention. Erik could feel his body shivering with anticipation of a retribution he hadn’t known he wanted. Charles had started to gasp on the floor behind them.
“A,” The tendrils of metal remained liquid, but sharpened into talon like vines.
“B,” Charles was crying, shuddering with effort to hold Shaw’s mind still. Maybe he was scared. He shouldn’t be scared, Erik would watch out for him now.
“C,” he whispered, almost like a prayer as the sharp metal pierced his skin. He felt the metal breach Shaw’s skull and slide into his brain.
Charles began to scream. Erik panicked, thrusting the metal through Shaw’s head quickly, his body crumpling to the ground almost immediately.
The telepath was still screaming, holding the sides of his head and rocking back and forth with the pain. Grasping his shoulders, Erik could only watch in horror as Charles cried. Soon the shouts died down into sobbing, and he leant against Erik, seeking comfort that Erik was only too happy to give.
“I’m sorry, Charles, I’m so sorry, oh my God,” he whispered against his hair.
Erik looked up sharply at the sound of running footsteps. Moira, Alex and Raven rounded the corner at a sprint, skidding to a halt at the sight of him and Charles holding on to each other on the ground. Raven visibly gulped and knelt next to them, touching her brother on the arm.
“Raven?” Charles moaned, looking up into her blue face, “is everyone okay?” The blue girl smiled and grasped the telepath’s arm, hoisting him up out of Erik’s grip.
“Everyone’s fine. Come on, let’s get you out of here,” she murmured, throwing a wary look at Shaw’s corpse. Erik hung back, a sinking feeling of abandonment swirling in his stomach as he watched the group leave him alone, again, in his bell tower.
Alex paused at the door and turned back to Erik, raising an eyebrow, “you coming or what, magnet boy?” Erik choked out a laugh, his disappointment subsiding a little with the tease. Together, he and Alex exited the bell tower; leaving Shaw’s body cooling on the cold stone.
oOo
“I’m fine, Raven,” Charles groused with a small smile, pushing his sister away good naturedly. “I was just shaken up, that’s all.” Raven frowned at Charles’ seemingly good mood, rubbing more healing paste on the cut on the light burns decorating his thighs.
“What the hell was he thinking, shoving metal through the mind of someone you’re controlling?” She snarled, having not forgiven Erik when he had told her the source of his screaming was purely mental pain, rather than physical.
Charles placed a gentle hand on her wrist, “he wasn’t to know.”
Her yellow eyes assessed him for a moment before she huffed, deciding she was done with his burns for now. “What’s up with you two anyway?”
Charles flushed, ignoring the graphic mental image she’d conjured up in her mind to accompany her question. “I have no idea what you mean.” He prayed she didn’t notice the wobble in his voice.
“Uh-uh, don’t you feign innocence with me, Charles, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He looked at his hands and sighed.
“I don’t really know to be honest,” he admitted, hating himself for the vulnerability in his tone, “I mean, we had… we had something, you know? But then after- after he still thought I… He thought I was going to marry Moira and I don’t know why and-” Raven held up a hand to silence him.
“First off; by something, do you mean sex?” Charles flushed, but said nothing. She took it as the ‘yes’ it was. “Okay, and what exactly did you say to him, before you had sex?”
“Well, I don’t know! We’d had an argument earlier in the day a-and I just told him that I didn’t want him to say anything about it!” He paused, thinking, “After that I just kind of… straddled him.” Raven raised a scaled eyebrow at him.
“Classy, Charles.”
“Oh, be quiet,” he stuck his tongue out at her, momentarily forgetting he wasn’t five years old. She chuckled.
“What was the argument about?” She murmured after a moment. Charles sighed again, and rubbed his hands over his eyes.
“He was talking about how I kissed Moira,” Raven raised another eyebrow, “I didn’t though!” He added before she could comment. “No, he just kept saying that I made him think I wanted him when I don’t. But I do, so I don’t understand what he’s talking about!”
Raven’s brow furrowed, and she laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so, Raven.” They shared a smile before she began packing up the medical gear, chatting about the newest young mutant they had discovered this morning; a young pie maker’s assistant who manifested his ability to resurrect the dead at the age of 13. Charles listened with interest as she shared the limitations to the young boy’s power, and they debated ways of preventing unintended death through accidental touching. They were in the middle of a detailed discussion about materials strong enough to dampen his power for everyday life when Moira and Alex walked in, followed by a scowling Logan.
“Moira, how good to see you! I’m glad you’re okay.”
She smiled, giving him a once over. “It was you who bared the brunt of it Charles. I saw you on that pyre. You’re lucky you have a big strong man to save you,” she said with a wink. Goodness, Charles was blushing a lot this evening.
“Well, yes, I suppose I am very lucky thank you, Moira,” he stammered. Raven apparently found this funny.
“You sure y’alright, Chuck,” Logan murmured, sidling up to the telepath’s side, a stern, but concerned look on his face. Charles smiled at his friend, and placed a hand on his hairy arm.
“I’m perfectly alright, thank you,” he replied, smiling as Moira and Alex launched into Raven’s conversation about the new mutant.
“Yeah, well, I think you should know, you’re metal-bender is pacing outside, deciding whether or not he has the balls to come in.”
“Logan!” He chastised gently, “He’s nervous. Remember he was locked up in that bell tower all his life. Besides he’s not my metal-bender, he’s his own-”
Charles paused as Erik entered the room, catching his eye and swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat. There was nothing to distract them now.
Raven caught where Charles was looking and smirked, grabbing Alex’s arm and pulling him out of the room with a “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Ned!” Logan chuckled and followed her out, but as Moira also tried to leave, Erik touched her shoulder and whispered “Stay, please? For just a minute?” Moira looked a little shocked, but not unhappy to stay, turning to face Charles, who mirrored her confused look.
“Erik,” he greeted, with false cheer, praying beyond measure that he didn’t sound too off, “are you alright, my friend?”
Erik smiled, a small, resigned little smile. Saying nothing, he grabbed Moira’s wrist and pulled her towards Charles, looking between them with that same smile fixed on his face. Charles and Moira looked at each other warily.
Erik’s other hand lifted from his side and gripped Charles’ wrist, so he was holding both their hands in his. That strange little smile was still there, and it didn’t sit right for some reason. Gently, Erik placed Moira’s hand in Charles’ so that they were holding hands, and the smile grew, if at all possible, more sad.
“There,” Erik whispered, looking between the two, resigned but satisfied. “You’ll both be happy together.”
Moira looked at Charles, utterly stunned. Truthfully, Charles felt the same way. They both dropped each other’s hands. Erik frowned.
“Erik, no, I don’t want to marry Moira,” he said, shooting a thought which said no offence at the woman in question. She pulsed amusement back at him.
“And I don’t want to marry Charles. He’s cute, sure, but I have a knight in shining armour already.” She said, throwing a wink at Erik. “So, I’m just going to leave you boys to it…”
Erik frowned harder, watching her leave with confusion. “What?”
“You didn’t know that she and Alex were together?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow. "It happened the night you and Alex arrived in The Court of Miracles."
Erik looked at him and shook his head, saying emphatically, “No!” Charles chuckled at his gorgeously stunned expression. He really was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “But you kissed her,” he continued, his brow furrowing with disapproval as well as confusion.
Charles had had enough of this, he hated not understanding, especially for so long. So he dove into Erik’s mind, searching for the memory he spoke of. Suddenly it was there, unfolding like a painting coming to life on a canvas. He’d kissed Moira’s forehead, a gesture of comfort, what seemed like forever ago. She had been worried about Alex, scared that he was going to die. It had been nothing but friendship and solidarity for both of them. But goddammit, Erik hadn’t seen it that way.
“Erik,” he breathed, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling him until he was in his space. Gently, he reached up and placed two fingers against the metal-bender’s forehead, pushing forward his memory of the event. He offered up everything he felt for Erik in a thought; how beautiful he thought he was, how brave and kind. He conveyed how much he admired him, wanted him, loved him, and leant his head against Erik’s chest, listening to his heartbeat pound in a steadily faster rhythm against his ribs.
“Charles,” he whispered, catching the hand that was against his temple as it fell and pressing it to his lips. The metal-bender shifted Charles until they were standing, foreheads together, and lips inches apart.
“Ich liebe dich,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss in the corner of Charles’ mouth. “Ich liebe dich, sehr. Entschuldingung. Ich liebe dich.”
Charles skimmed the translation off the surface of Erik’s thoughts, and slotted their mouths together, licking at Erik’s mouth, asking for entrance. He let him in easily, eagerly winding their tongues together with a groan.
“I love you too,” Charles whispered, breaking their kiss for a moment, before returning to Erik’s spit-slick lips. I love you too.
oOo
Ned had finally got away from all those people. He knew they meant well, but he hardly wanted them around. Especially right now. He looked at his hands sadly. He didn’t want any stupid powers, no matter if the blue lady said it was a gift. Being able to kill someone with a touch wasn’t a gift.
He supposed bringing someone back to life would be considered a gift, but he was still too hung up on the other side to be happy with that.
Where was he anyway? He had made his way over to Notre Dame, and was walking around the back passages, exploring in a way his dad had never let him before (his dad isn’t want him now, not when he was a freak), when he’d found a staircase. Intrigued, he’d climbed it, until he reached a huge attic like room, with huge bells hanging from the rafters.
This must be where that bell-man lived. The one that controlled metal. Now that would have been a cool power. The evening sun glanced off a metal hanging ornament, casting colourful shards of light across the room. At a little work bench across the room, lay some small metal figurines, and what looked like a perfect replica of the town outside.
Everything was so pretty, Ned thought he could spend hours, just thinking alone up here.
“Hey, kiddo,” came a voice behind him. He shouted with alarm and spun around, only to be faced with three figures made of metal, all of different shades, looking at him with various expressions of amusement.
It was the shiny lady who spoke, holding out a hand as if to steady him. He flinched out of her reach. “Woah. I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you,” she said gently, reaching out again.
“Don’t touch me,” he whispered terrified, “you’ll die!”
The reddish, demonic looking one laughed whilst the weather-beaten one looked at him almost fondly. “Do we look alive to you?” Ned squinted at them, and decided that no, though they were moving and talking, they were metal. His powers only worked on alive things. He thought.
“So what are you doing up here, detenysh,” the reddish one said, with a faint accent. Ned couldn’t place it, and couldn’t really be bothered to. He was too busy staring at the tail.
The shiny one smirked at the reddish one, and teased him, “you always go Papa Russia when faced with kids.” Ned blinked at her, but ignored her.
“I escaped from the grown-ups,” he said, “they were annoying.” The shiny lady laughed again, whilst the reddish one knelt in front of him, bringing him down to his height.
“Adults are always annoying, but they will be worried about you being gone, da?” Ned shrugged and nodded.
“I suggest you go back and make sure they know you’re okay,” said the weather-beaten one, over the foreign reddish one’s shoulder.
Ned shrugged again. “Okay.”
“Khoroshiy mal’chik.” The reddish one whispered, before holding out his hand for a handshake. Ned hesitated, but shrugged again. He wasn’t alive anyway, what could go wrong.
As soon as his hand touched the reddish one, he doubled over with pain. Ned jumped back with a cry, shouting “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” and watching as the metal man began to vomit. The spew was the same colour as his skin, and Ned noticed with a start that his metallic sheen began to fade, and his skin grew into a brighter shade of red. Soon, instead of a rusty metal man, there stood a man with bright red skin. His metal friends looked on with shock.
“Gah!” He gasped when he finished vomiting, “that was unpleasant.”
“You’re not dead?” Ned asked, peering at him warily.
“No, I’m alive. Thanks to you. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t touch you again,” he smiled as he said this, looking at his new hands with delight.
“Will you touch us too?” asked the other metal man, breathlessly, whilst the shiny lady looked at him hopefully. Swallowing nervously, he nodded, and reached for them too.
Soon there were 3 people in front of him where the metal ones had been, and Ned wasn’t quite sure he wasn’t dreaming. Today had been a weird day. He smiled as the grownups chatted excitedly to themselves, and slipped off without them noticing.
He liked helping people, he decided. Maybe he’d find someway to use his ‘gift’ in that way. Ned smiled and walked out of Notre Dame and back to where the blue lady had been, smiling all the way.