Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Now that Erik managed to break down the mirror room, Charles could see into his mind. He could see Erik being crushed by the ship’s debris, Shaw using his power to stop Erik from freeing himself. He wanted to do nothing more than to help somehow, but he had to trust Erik, if anyone could get out of that situation it was him. 

“This world could be ours.” Shaw said to Erik and Charles could see him leaning in. Since he was in Erik’s mind, he could see it as if he was right there, in his partner’s spot. 

Charles waited, it took more will than he would like to not run and help him in that instant. There were a few beats of silence and Erik spoke once again. 

“Everything you did made me stronger.... made me the weapon I am today, it's the truth. I've known it all along.” He paused and turned to look at Shaw dead in the eye. “You are my creator.” Erik gritted out, feeling as Shaw tried to crush him with the pipes against him. He said it slowly, biding his time so that he could control the electrical wiring to snap Shaw’s helmet off, and then in one swift move he snatched it off, calling out to Charles before Shaw could do anything. “Now, Charles!”

Charles reacted almost immediately and before Shaw could get his helmet again, he was frozen mid step, invisible forces shutting him in place, a hand reaching out, unable to move. The change was almost immediate, going from Erik’s mind into Shaw’s. There could not be two more different minds, they were the polar opposite, where Erik was calm, a mixture of serene and anger, a mind so familiar to him, it was simply beautiful; Shaw’s was what he believed hell felt like…. It was pure of hate and something Charles couldn't quite name but made him want to puke.

He let out an involuntary groan as he pressed two fingers into his temple. 

“Are you okay?” He could hear Moira talking to him from the back and it's too distracting, he needed his full concentration. 

“Moira, be quiet. I can only control this man for so long.” He didn’t waste the energy to sound nice while he said it. Having to hold Sebastian Shaw in place, being inside his mind at the same time he is in Erik’s and trying to tune out Moira… it is simply too many things at once. 

He focused back on the ship again, he was no longer next to Moira, but he was both looking at Erik while seeing through his eyes. He could see him rounding Shaw up before he grabbed the helmet and Charles tensed even more. He couldn’t possibly be doing what he thinks he’s doing. Erik knew better than that, at least Charles hoped he did. A few seconds later he was proven wrong.  

“Sorry, Charles.” Erik said and Charles' blood ran cold. 

“Erik, please, be the better man.” Charles pleaded and wanted nothing more than to go inside his mind, not to control him or stop him against his will, no. He wanted to go inside his mind to help him, be a comforting presence and show his support, maybe if he was on his side, maybe then he could talk sense to him. 

He knew there is no going back from killing someone, especially killing someone in cold blood, no matter the reasons, no matter what the other person did, it was still taking a life away and Charles wanted to stop his friend from making a mistake. There was another way Shaw could be stopped without killing him, they just needed to work together. They just needed to— 

“It's not that I don't trust you…” Erik said as he held the helmet into his hands and Charles knew he was running out of time, he only had seconds, maybe less until he could no longer communicate with him. 

“Erik, there will be no turning back, you—” Charles pleaded, he yelled out loud, not caring Moira was there. He was not above pleading, not if that saved his friend… but his efforts led nowhere. He was cut abruptly when Erik put on the helmet. 

He groaned at the impact of being shut from his mind and at the realization that he couldn’t do anything to stop Erik now. “Don’t do this, Erik!” He hit the window with his fists in frustration and put a little more pressure than necessary onto his temples. 

Charles almost stumbled back in his place and for a brief millisecond he almost let go of his hold of Shaw’s mind. When Erik put on the helmet it didn't just cut the signal he had with him, but since Charles had been in his mind, it forcefully shoved him out and he felt like a part of him was being ripped apart, at least physically. Emotionally it was much worse. 

Being shut out like that, in such an impactful moment, by someone who had grown to be his closest friend and then some, that hurt more than being yanked out of his mind. However, now was not the time to dwell on that, he had much bigger things to deal with. Shaw was fighting against his control, and he didn't know how much longer he could go on. A few more minutes at most and then Shaw would be free from his clutches. 

Shaw would be free to continue his reign of terror, who was about to start World War Three… who was currently now powered with enough nuclear power to make the atomic bombs look like child’s play. 

Charles didn't really have a choice, he would hold onto Shaw’s mind until the very end, whatever it takes. 

With a deep, shaky breath, he focused on Shaw. Erik might have cut him out, but he could still see what was happening through Shaw’s eyes. Charles did not know if Erik realized he could still see what was happening, and if he did, he didn't give any indication he cared about it. 

“If you are in there, I’d like you to know that I agree with every word you said.” Erik said as he walked around the room, a few steps away from Shaw. “We are the future.” He stopped walking and began to turn around, no longer having his back at Shaw. 

Charles tensed even more, Shaw was clawing in his mind, and it took out a lot of his energy to stop him. At this point he was breathing more shakily than not, and he was vaguely aware his own body began to tremble, but he shoved that information aside, now he needed to focus. The entirety of the world’s future rested on him. If he let Shaw go, he would start another war, he would target all humans and kill them… he kept repeating it, reminding himself of all the consequences his actions would have if he failed. 

Then there was Erik, he was clearly taking his time and every second of it made Charles ache with dread. What the hell was he playing at? Now was not the time for small talk. 

“But unfortunately, you killed my mother.” Erik told Shaw and Charles saw he had something in his hand. Since he could only see-through Shaw’s eyes that couldn't move at the moment, it took him a moment to find out what it was. “This is what we are going to do.”

It wasn't until Erik moved his hand up, leveling his hand at the same height of his chest, that Charles saw what he was holding. Charles' heart skipped a beat and his stomach dropped. No , oh god, no . 

A coin . 

“No, please , Erik, no.” He yelled, knowing it's impossible for Erik to hear him now. But he can't help it, he has to say it, he can't give up even when there is no hope, even when there’s no possible way this comes out well. 

Erik, oblivious to the horrors Charles is going through watching it all unfold, he extended his hand to show the coin and calmly said. “I’m going to count to three, and I’m going to move the coin.” Charles could see Erik’s eyes clouded with unshed tears, but his expression was cold, merciless, not an ounce of compassion in his eyes. 

And they're looking straight at him. 

Charles knew it's because he was looking through Shaw’s perspective, he’s seeing it like that, but the fact is he is watching his friend look at him like that and it makes him feel sick. What makes him feel even worse, making his body shudder and his breath quicken, is his intentions. 

Erik will not stop with the cold, deadly stares or the hatred fueled words… Charles knows what is in store for Shaw now, what is in store for him… and there is no escaping it, his fate is sealed. 

I’m going to count to three, and I’m going to move the coin.

When he first met Erik, when he rescued him from drowning that night, he went inside his mind and saw everything he had been through, felt everything, lived through his memories. He saw the horrors of what Shaw had done to him, how he had killed Erik’s mother, how he had experimented and tortured him as a child. In those few seconds it took to delve into his mind before rescuing him, it was enough to know him a lifetime. 

And most importantly, at the moment, he knew about the coin. How it all started. 

I’m going to count to three, and I’m going to move the coin.

It had only been seconds since he heard that phrase, but it had reverberated in his mind. All his senses, his instincts were telling him to leave, to hide from certain doom. His body knew what was going to happen to him and he was fighting it to not lose his grip on Shaw, who, same as he did, knew what was coming to him; knew his impending death was less than a minute away. 

“One…” 

The coin began to float in the air, slowly but surely. Erik made it so to show there was no escaping it. 

Apart from Charles’ thoughts of despair, he could hear Shaw’s too. How he was fighting to escape. A man like him was above begging so instead of pleading, he was throwing curses and threats to the world, promising death and destruction, and yet the only person that could hear it was Charles. He would be the last one to hear the thoughts in his brain before he ceased to exist. He wished he was anywhere else but here. 

“Please Erik.” Charles pleaded and it was impossible to hide the pain, the anguish and unwavered fear in his voice. Yet, Erik couldn't hear him, he was a long way away, separated by a submarine and many layers of impenetrable metal, and Charles was still in the fallen jet, he was vaguely aware that he had moved from the window where he had been originally. Now he was standing in the middle of the place around fallen cables and debris, he could feel Moira close by, but even though physically he was there, he felt tethered to Shaw’s mind in the submarine.

“Two….”

His hand trembled as he held it onto his temple, and he had no control over his body doing a full body shudder. He could feel the dread intensifying, he was breathing with more difficulty, letting out the air through his mouth and bracing himself for impact. 

He felt his whole body frozen and almost unresponsive; his body had gone into fight or flight mode a while ago. Before his body had pleaded to him to flee but he was stubborn, so he stayed, and now his body decided to go into freeze mode, the only movement he could muster was the involuntary shakes. The suspense was killing him and now the coin was millimeters away from Shaw’s forehead… And by extent his own. 

“Three .” 

Charles could feel the exact moment where the coin made contact with his skin... Or well, Shaw’s skin but at this point the pain was too much to differentiate with technicalities. He could feel the coin slicing through his forehead, slowly, never losing track of its target. 

Being a telepath had given him the gift, or rather the curse, of being entirely too aware of people’s brains in its entirety. He had become too well accustomed to differentiating all the little details of the brain, all its functions and sections. Which made him extra sensitive to feeling the coin tear through him, even though the pain, he was aware of where and how his brain was being destroyed. Currently the coin was passing right through the frontal lobe, a burning pain growing each moment the coin slid through. 

There was screaming, he vaguely realized it was him that was screaming as if he was being tortured. Which he was… but the scream couldn't be him… because now he couldn't move. He stared directly at Erik, who didn't even blink as the coin destroyed his brain piece by piece. He was just standing there while Charles died . 

The coin moved away from his frontal lobe onto the cerebral cortex and Charles couldn't think straight anymore… After that there were no thoughts, only bouts of emotions, of pain, of agony and torment.

Charles wanted to call at him, but he couldn't move, he couldn't yell… except he was , his eardrums rang at the sounds of his own screams, but he couldn't move, how was he yelling when he couldn't even open his mouth? How did Erik, his best friend, just stand there to watch him— oh right… it wasn't him... He was still in the fallen jet. His body was safe, in one piece, but his conscience wasn't so lucky. It didn't matter he wasn't physically hurt; he was experiencing death… slow and painful death. 

Erik was killing Shaw, not him… but was there a difference? Charles wanted to double over at the pain, he wanted to grab his own head in his hands and hide away from the pain as he did as a kid. But he couldn't… even through the burning feeling of having his brain torn... He knew he couldn't take his fingers away from his temple. 

He was so tempted… he could stop all of this now… he just had to let go, let Shaw free... But if he did that, he would kill Erik in a heartbeat… Charles couldn't let that happen… Erik couldn't die and if he had to die in his place then so be it… it's not like he had another choice. 

And then finally, what felt like an eternity later, but it had only been a few seconds, the coin slid all the way through his brain, exiting through the back of the head. 

He thought that once the coin passed the worse would be over, but he was wrong, he was so, so wrong . Now that the deed was done, Charles could still vividly feel the pain of it, the memories of his brain being broken fresh in his mind. 

On top of it all, he found he was no longer on the submarine. He was back at the jet. Now that Shaw was dead and Erik had the helmet on there was no way he could see inside the place anymore, after all, he can’t go inside dead people’s minds. 

He felt it happened. Even through the pure unfiltered agonizing experience, he felt the moment life left Shaw’s body. The moment his body became a corpse. 

It didn’t happen slowly, or gradually. It happened in the blink of an eye. One moment he was attached to Shaw’s mind, hearing his thoughts, feeling his emotions and both of them sharing the pain of it all, and the next he was alone, it was cold, dark and empty. No more thoughts sharing his headspace, no more screams mirroring his own, nothing. Like turning off a light switch and the very essence of what made someone alive was gone. 

Charles was beginning to find that the list of horrible things he could endure was growing exponentially. Only yesterday, oblivious to the mess that would happen today, he thought he had a rather okay pain tolerance, he had been through some awful things that's for sure. He thought that he could handle whatever happened with the Cuba situation. He had to, since he had probably been through worse, especially in his childhood. 

Oh, how wrong he was. The feeling of Shaw’s mind had been something he never wanted to experience again. Then to make things worse the feeling of being yanked away from Erik’s mind like that had caused him a great deal of pain he didn’t think was possible, both physically and emotionally. 

He knew why Erik had done it. He knew why he put the helmet on… he had been inside his mind and knew what Shaw did and what it meant to him. He would do anything in his power to end him. 

And yet. 

The betrayal still hurt. 

And to top it all off with a cherry on top of his horrible experiences, he just found out what it felt to be murdered by a coin ripping through his brain. 

Oh god . 

He was murdered today. 

He was murdered by his best friend, his partner . 

Things surely couldn’t get worse than that…. Except it could and it would . 

Even though he was essentially murdered today he wasn’t. He was still alive, in the middle of a possible war zone. Shaw got off easy, the pain stopped once he died, he only had to endure it for a small amount of time. Once you’re dead that's it, no feelings, no emotions, no conflicting thoughts, no pain. 

He, however? He was still alive, and the feelings lingered, the pain seemed to double on as the second stretched. His body was in perfect condition and yet he could feel the gaping hole in his head, the stench of metal from both the coin and the blood clogging his senses, unable to escape from it. 

Shaw was dead and there was nothing stopping him from letting go. He didn’t have to hold on to anyone’s mind or talk anyone out of bad decisions. He did what his body was begging him to do all this time and he let go, not able to stop his body from collapsing on the ground beneath his feet. 

Everything after that became blurry… snips and pieces of the outside world would seep through the ocean of pain but nothing every coherent or clear enough to latch onto. 

Everything hurt and burned. His head felt like it had been dropped on acid, shoved into a blender and then set on fire. It wouldn’t stop. 

He was vaguely aware of his attempts at hiding his head between his hands, clawing and scratching at his face trying to find the source of the pain. It was instinctual, trying to find the injuries to heal them, his body sending signals to fix what was broken. 

Problem was that everything was fine. His body couldn’t not find anything wrong, and it never would. There was nothing physical for his body to heal because it didn’t happen to him . 

Not knowing how to react, his body kept making his pain receptors flare up even more. There was no escaping it, it appeared his fate was sealed once again, and his demise was one worse than Shaw’s. This would never end. 

Make it stop, make it stop.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he began to tune in thoughts. There were too many minds nearby and all sorts of emotions were invading his own once again, mostly fear. 

No, no, no. Not again . He had just stopped tuning in other’s minds when Shaw had died. Everything was blank and now it was as if a sound bomb went off, everything was too loud. 

“Oh god…. —at happened—…. your fault…... dying…. Do something….it…. Want us dead…”

Charles groaned from all the extra input his brain was receiving. It was too much. It hurt and whoever was projecting his thoughts at him was making it worse. It was too garbled and full of emotions he couldn’t deal with. Fear. Worry. Grief. Anger. Guilt. Fear. Anguish. 

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. 

He just wanted to cry out and make it all stop but he wasn't in control of his body, not entirely, there was so much pain. He thinks maybe he managed to curl over somewhere else, or he was moved because between the bits of information he tuned in of his environment, he noticed that he was not on the floor where he thought he had collapsed. His head was leaning somewhere, it was soft, at least softer than the floor. He couldn't tell anything more about it when he was hit with another flare of pain, followed by a burst of emotions that were not his own bombarding him. 

He doesn't know what happened next, or how long it had been but there was something loud, accompanied by a loud pang of anguish and then the other emotions stopped, his brain was his own once more, which wasn’t that big of an improvement since his mind currently felt like it had been crushed by a garbage disposal. 

Charles. 

Charles was momentarily distracted from his never-ending pain when he heard it. Before the voices were too garbled to hear them but this one voice seeped through the rest. It was faint but he could understand the word. 

He did not know where the voice came from or who it was from. It was too far away… maybe if he reached out, if he could touch the mind, he could see…

Charles, can you hear me?

Charles tensed. He could hear it clearly, the same voice as before, he knew that voice, but he couldn't think straight, he couldn't think at all, his mind was still scrambled, and his brain stung. Yet, there was something about that voice that seemed to somehow ground him. 

Charles, you are not allowed to die. Do not do this to me.

Charles wanted to answer that voice, he needed to know who was talking to him, but he couldn't focus. He was so tired, and everything hurt, his head hurt, it ached, and it burned, and he could do nothing. Now, it seemed that his body was giving up on stopping the pain he felt, and he could feel himself drifting away to unconsciousness. Everything took a toll on him today and it wasn't in him to fight it anymore. The voice that was calling to him wasn’t of a stranger, something deep inside him told him it was safe. 

And well, if he was safe, he really didn't have any reason to keep himself awake and be aware of everything happening to him. He tried to reach out to the mind that was talking to him once again and he felt the all too familiar feeling of calm, a mixture of serenity and anger, that unlike what he was used to, the anger was tucked away, less loud than the rest of it. 

That was the last of Charles' thoughts before he let himself be dragged onto the blissful land of unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Erik watched as the coin slid through Shaw’s head and once the deed was done, he let go of his hold on it, letting gravity do its job. For a few seconds all he did was watch as the coin hit the ground, covered in blood of the man he vowed to kill. Charles was right, this did not bring peace to him, but he was never expecting it in the first place, as he had told him the night before: peace was never an option. 

All this was about revenge, justice and self-preservation. He needed him to pay for what he had done, for killing his mother in front of him, for everything he did growing up. Besides, Erik had sworn to eradicate that evil from the world. A man like Shaw should not be allowed to live after what he had done and what his plans for the future entailed. 

Shaw, despite being a mutant, was the height of what was wrong with the world. Erik could even debate that one man was worse than the humans, which he wasn't fond of at all. Humans… they were despicable, cruel and ruthless… they would make the most gruesome, unspeakable acts against others in the name of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of what was different, fear of what they didn't like. 

History always repeated itself and he was not going to stand there in the sidelines while the humans tried to hunt his kind down. Because he knew it would happen, it was only a matter of time. They would be persecuted for what they are, for existing.  

Even though that hasn't happened yet , he knew it would, and soon . After today, after what they just accomplished, it would be impossible to deny the existence of the new race walking amongst humans, they couldn't deny mutants anymore. He would have to fight for them, protect his kind. 

It was something interesting to think about, protecting others… all his life, ever since his mother was murdered, he had been on his own. Never had anyone on his side, didn't have anyone protecting him or anyone worth protecting. He had learned to survive and come out on top no matter what. 

But, in the last couple of months that had slowly changed. Erik had found himself people he cared about. He would call it a family if the concept of it wasn’t so foreign to him— and if said concept didn't scare him. It was all thanks to Charles, the man had passed through all his defenses and found a way into his heart. He knew him, he saw him, and because of meeting him, he found out he wasn't alone. He wasn't the only one of his kind, there were many others like him, and he wasn't alone in the sense that he had someone to rely on, something which he was not entirely accustomed to yet. 

So now, his determination to put a stop to their persecution before it even started grew exponentially. He had a new wave of motivation to protect what was his, to help those who couldn't help themselves. It was obvious what he had to do now, he had to make the first move against the humans. Now they knew about them, but it was still a fresh discovery, he could still use the element of surprise. If he didn't make the first move he knew the humans would make it sooner than later, it was just a matter of time.

Looking at Shaw’s corpse lifeless on the ground, he came up with his new strategy. Moving a hand at the metal debris around him, he commanded the metal to wrap around Shaw’s arms, lifting him up. 

He made his way outside, realizing he could make himself float thanks to the metal in his clothes. For what he wanted to do now, he was going to need a hell of an entrance to convince the others to join his cause. He made sure the helmet rested comfortably against his head, making a few adjustments to it so it didn't lay where the glass had cut him when Shaw had thrown him against the mirror walls.

The helmet was a nice comforting presence. It was a type of metal he wasn't all too familiar with, which intrigued him and the low humming he could sense from it was something that grounded him. Even though it had been Shaw’s, a man he despised, he decided to keep it, metal like that was hard to come by and it was useful against telepaths. 

Which reminded him of the other situation: Charles. His partner had not liked the helmet ever since he found out how Shaw had been blocking his mind from him. Erik could still hear the pleas inside his head seconds before he put on the helmet, Charles begging him not to do it, and not to kill Shaw. But as much as Erik loved him, he had to do it. 

Killing Shaw had been his mission for most of his life, his one purpose for the past twenty something years. He knew if he didn’t put on the helmet, Charles would have found a way to stop him, to talk him out of it, the implications of it scared him. 

Now, however, that he had experienced the helmet, he didn't want to take it off. Charles would certainly not be happy, especially after what he had done in the submarine, but he would do his best to talk sense into him. 

Charles’ and his own views did not align, where Charles saw the best of people, the most optimistic approach, Erik saw the realistic one. Sure, some of his ideas were extreme, but they were necessary. It was the price of salvation. He had already lived through one persecution, costing him his entire family, he was not letting another witch hunt take his newfound family away. 

Charles would have to understand it eventually. Erik knew that sooner or later, his partner would be faced with the true face of humanity, he would have to see what Erik had been warning him about. He would realize what he had been warning him about all along. However, another part of Erik wanted to do everything in his power to avoid Charles having to experience that. He wanted to protect him, so he didn't have to face the horrors of humanity. 

Sure, his friend had seen horrible things through his life, he knew his life hadn't been that easy. Well, he didn't know at first, but he has caught glimpses of things that implied nothing good. But even that was different. Charles had lived through the war in the mansion that was his, he never went hungry or hunted, he didn't have to watch the person he cared about the most being shot point blank as a kid, he didn't have to fear for his life every day for a decade like he did. And Erik never wanted Charles to know what that felt like. 

He was doing this for Charles, and for the mutant race. It would be easy to make the first move, he could feel the metal from the warships a few miles from the coast, it shouldn't be too difficult to hijack them to turn on each other. 

Snapping away from his thoughts, he floated himself and Shaw out of the submarine. Once he was hovering outside the ship, he could see Shaw’s group standing there, along with his own team, standing on the beach. 

“Today our fighting stops!” He said, voice loud and clear so all the members on the beach could hear him.

He scanned the area looking for the one person he wanted to see the most, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Erik resigned himself and bit down a sigh. Charles was probably still mad at him for shutting him out and killing Shaw. He could understand why Charles would be mad at the helmet thing, that wasn't his brightest moment back there, but he couldn't change anything now, however, he had told him multiple times over the months that he was going to end Shaw. Hell, he told him last night he was planning, and going to, kill him. So, Charles should not be that angry at him for that , he had warned him about it after all.

A few seconds later, once the others had had a chance to get a good look at his enemy’s corpse, he let Shaw slump to the ground, no longer controlling the metals keeping him uptight. The red guy, Erik thought his name had been Azazel or something, moved a few steps to check on the body, making sure he was dead. Once he had his answer he looked back up at Erik. 

Erik decided he had made enough of an entrance and carefully floated himself to the ground, sparing a look at the others. “Take off your blinders brothers and sisters. The real enemy is out there.” He moved his hand, pointing at the ocean in the direction of which the ships were. He looked around once more at the jet where he knew Charles was, but he hadn't come out yet. 

Well, if he wasn't there at least he didn't have to worry about being stopped. “I feel their guns moving in the water, their metal targeting us… Americans, Soviets… humans... United in their fear of the unknown.”

He could see the others glancing at the ships in worry. Raven, and Shaw’s crew believed what he was saying in a heartbeat, it made sense to them, of course, so he mentally noted he wouldn't have to do much convincing to get them on their side. His own team however, clearly looked skeptical at his words, they glanced at the ships with a frown and then back at him, torn between calling him out on his bullshit words or believing them. 

Erik sighed. “The neanderthal is running scared, my fellow mutants.” 

He didn't have time to convince them, they were all literally running out of time. He could sense the canyons moving, targeting them but he knew they still had a few minutes before they fired, the humans had to yet confirm their orders with their superiors. 

He then felt movement from the jet, he didn't look back at it, but he could feel someone getting out of it. He bit back a sardonic smile, so Charles decided to grace them with his presence at last . Well, now it would be fairly easier to prove to his team he wasn't lying if Charles could confirm it too. “Go ahead, Charles, tell me I’m wrong.”

He didn't look back until now, he decided it would be easier to see the moment Charles could see the human’s true intentions. However, when he turned around, he saw that the person that he had felt coming out of the jet was not Charles, but Moira, who was pointing a gun at him. To be honest he had forgotten about her due to recent events.

“This is all your fault.” Moira spat out in rage as she slowly made her way towards him. 

Erik wanted to laugh, she was holding a metal gun at him, holding metal bullets. Clearly, she had to know he was in the advantage here, right? He couldn't really blame her though; she was only human… 

“Oh please , it is not my fault in the least. It is them who are the problem. I am just merely stating facts.” 

“That is not what I'm talking about, and you know it.” Moira raged and steadied her gun. 

Erik put a little more attention on Moira instead of the gun after he heard the absolute hatred in her voice, huh, that was... new. He wasn't surprised by a human talking to him with such hatred, but it was a change of pace coming from her . Now that he looked at her, he saw Moira was glaring at him, clearly holding back tears. He frowned, why would she be crying? It couldn't be because of almost dying in the crash, she was a CIA agent, she knew the risks and was trained to reign in her emotions better. 

Unconcerned with the gun pointing his way he looked at the jet, surely Charles would have to come out by now. If not for him then for his team, to stop him from killing the precious humans he so liked. Something twisted inside him which felt strangely like worry.

“Erik.” Raven spoke up, changing his attention from his thoughts to her. “If what you said is true, if they are really targeting us then we should really leave.” 

Erik knew she was right; this place was about to become an explosion site in less than 5 minutes. He was about to answer her when Moira spoke up. 

“I’m talking about Charles, you son of a bitch.” She told him and fired her gun at him.

Erik deflected it rather easily and was about to make her regret her actions when her words rang through him. Why was she talking about Charles? What happened? He felt his stomach twist in a knot, his uneasiness growing. “ What ?”

He moved his hand, calling for the metal in her clothes and bringing her forward until she was at an arm's length away from him. “What about Charles?” He growled out and looked at the jet once again, hoping to see Charles walk through, but nothing moved.

“Is he okay?”

Moira did not respond, she opened her mouth, but no words came out, she spared a glance at the jet but that was the extent of it.  

 “ Where is he ?”

Erik could see the fear and anger in her eyes, and he instinctively knew the fear was not directed at him. He threw her to the ground and made his way inside the jet, scanning all the metal there to try and pinpoint where Charles was. 

He heard him before anything else and his own worry increased rapidly, he sounded like he was in pain. “Charles?” He rounded a corner and that's when he saw him, sprawled on the ground, wriggling and spasming in pain, his eyes were squeezed shut, grabbing his head in his hands, getting a fistful of hair on his fingers as he tugged from his scalp. His face was twisted in a grimace and his cheeks had tear stains on them, muttering something under his breath, words all jumbled up.

Erik felt his stomach drop at the sight, everything else happening around him was forgotten as his vision only focused on him. He didn't care about the impending missile crisis, he didn't care about finding a way out of there, he only cared about making sure Charles was alright. “ Charles !” He called out, voice betraying him and cracking. Falling on his knees, he grabbed Charles and rolled him over so that he was laying on his legs, cushioning his head with them.

“M’ke ‘t st’p… M’ke ‘t st’p."

“Charles, tell me what’s wrong, I can't make it stop if I don't know what is wrong.”

Charles did not appear to hear him and continued whimpering in pain, trying to scratch at his forehead as if he wanted to take something out. Erik moved his hands away from his face to keep him from hurting himself and tried to find out what exactly had gone badly. However, when he moved his hands, Charles flinched back. “ Hey , no, shh, don't do that.” He said barely above a whisper. “Charles, listen to me, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. You have to stop scratching at your face or you’ll hurt yourself even more.” He spoke in the softest voice he could muster, which wasn't much. He wasn't used to using such a calm voice, especially not in these circumstances. 

“Oh god.” Raven exclaimed from behind him, and only then did he realize that the rest of the mutants had followed him. “Charles?” she screamed out and made her way next to Erik. It took all his impulse control to not lash at her and tell her to leave them. He might have done something to convey it because a second later Raven stood back, keeping some distance between her and her brother, which clearly did not sit right with her.  

“What happened?” Alex asked in shock, not able to take his eyes off Charles. He had come to see Charles as unbeatable, someone who couldn't be defeated, so seeing him like that... In so much pain, he didn't know how to handle it. 

Erik held onto Charles closer, and his heart broke the more he cried out in pain. He looked up at Moira who was standing there next to the others. “I don't know, why don't you ask her .” He pointed at Moira with distaste. “She was the last one who saw Charles before he ended up like this .” Erik moved his hand slightly so that Moira’s necklace became tighter around her neck, causing her to gasp at the lack of oxygen. “I suggest you speak quickly.” 

“He was yelling at you, telling you to stop, I don't know what exactly he meant but he was telling you to not do something” She gasped out as the necklace tightened more. Erik glared at her to continue.  “Then he started shaking and screaming, I didn't know what was wrong.” Moira paused, trying to take a breath. “The screaming stopped and then I thought he was okay but when I went to check on him, he passed out… or I thought he did…. I don’t know what happened… but I know…. Whatever it was—” she gasped for breath. “—it was your fault.”

Erik was about to yell at her, call her a liar. What was happening to Charles had nothing to do with him. He had been with Shaw all along and the last he heard from him was when he put on the helmet, he clearly hadn't been happy, but he hadn’t been in pain . He hadn't heard from him since he was holding onto Shaw’s — oh no , Charles had been holding Shaw still, he had been in his mind…

No .

Erik felt sick.

The coin .

“ No. ” he gasped; his voice barely audible.

Charles had felt it, he must have. There was no other reason why the person he cared about most in the world was currently having pain spasms and clearly suffering when he, physically, didn't even have any injuries on his body.

Erik let the words sink in and realization hit him like a truck. He let go of Moira’s necklace and stood there blinking back tears that were threatening to fall.

This was all his fault... He did this . Charles shouldn't have to pay the price of his actions; this was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to kill Shaw so that no one got hurt anymore and now Charles got the worst of it.

He looked down at Charles, who was sweating profusely and twitching at the pain. He still didn't seem to hear any of them, and it seemed he was more distressed than before, if that was even possible. Moving his hands carefully, he brushed a strand of hair away from Charles face and rested his hand on his cheek. “Charles, I'm so, terribly, sorry.” He whispered. He needed to come up with a plan, anything that could help him stop the pain his partner was going through. He hated seeing him like this.

He wished he could take his pain as his own, that he could free Charles from the torment he was being subjected to. He couldn't hear him and had made no indication he could move beyond the twitches of pain. Apart from essentially murdering him today, it was his fault Charles’ body and mind had become his own personal prison. 

For a second, he contemplated leaving. The best option for everyone, especially Charles, would be to leave and never return. If he left, he wouldn't let him down again, he wouldn’t fail to protect what was his. If he left, he could continue his mission and let the others live on without him messing things up. It was for the best, he had been his whole life living on his own, why would that have to change now, clearly it didn't work. 

He should leave, but he was too selfish to do that. He couldn't seem to part ways from Charles. He didn't even want to move him from his arms. He felt like maybe, by holding him, by being there for him, he could convince himself he would be okay. 

Loud booming sounds snapped him from his crisis. He knew what those sounds entailed, and it was nothing good. The missiles had been deployed and he could feel their metal heading towards them. 

“Is that—” Sean asked frightfully, 

“The missiles.” Angel confirmed his thoughts as she looked out the broken part of the jet, seeing the dozens of projectiles near them. 

“Erik, you have to do something.” Hank told him quickly, he couldn't peel his eyes away from the sky. 

Erik knew he had to intervene, he was their only chance of survival at the moment but doing something meant he had to stop holding onto Charles and he wasn't the most enthusiastic about leaving him alone for even a second. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, extending his arms up at the sky and towards the direction the missiles were coming from. 

He could feel them, could feel their metal approaching even without seeing them. It took out all the energy he could muster but a few seconds before impact he managed the seemingly impossible, he stopped every single one of them, holding them in place, frozen in mid sky. His arms shook slightly at the power it took. 

All he was thinking about when he stopped the missiles was that he had to protect Charles, keep him safe, keep them all safe. They had been counting on him and he couldn't fail.  Sure, Charles had been correct about the fact that he could have better control of his powers by not only using anger to fuel them, but to find a point between rage and serenity to channel them. That had worked, but he just found a much better motivator to reach his potential. 

But things were not over, he still had a mission to do, he still needed to keep his team, his family, his Charles, safe. So slowly, he forced the missiles to turn around in their place, locking onto a different target: the American and Soviet ships. Charles was still whimpering in pain, it never stopped, and Erik needed to finish the job so he could get back to helping him. He gritted his teeth, determined to see his mission through but Hank interrupted him.

“Erik, don't do this. This is not the way.” 

“It's the only way it can guarantee us living freely.” Erik felt his muscles ache at the strain of keeping the missiles in place. 

“No, it's not, it will only make them want to kill us.” Alex spoke up and Erik wanted to sigh, didn't they see he was doing this for the greater good? 

“They already want us dead.” Erik pointed out. 

“This will only ensure a war between us and them, we are not capable of fighting it and coming out on the winning side.” He tried to reason. 

“We’ll win, we are superior after all.” Erik motioned for the missiles to continue their rapid course. 

“If you won’t stop for what is right then do it for Charles.” Raven yelled out and Erik stopped the missiles to look at her. 

“I'm doing this for him.” 

“No, you are not . You are hiding your actions behind it, but you and I know Charles would not want this.” She cried out. “Look at him.” She pointed at her brother tucked against Erik, still twitching in pain, mumbling incoherent words. Erik didn’t look down at him. “I said look .” she demanded. 

Erik glanced down, Charles was breathing unsteadily and shallowly, his eyes were moving rapidly under closed eyelids. 

“You can't start a war when he is like that. He needs medical help and how do you think we will get any if you go over and commit genocide today? We will be hunted. Do not make my brother pay the price for your mistakes again, once has been enough, don't you think?” 

Erik cursed under his breath, they had played his greater weakness and he knew he was beaten. They were right… he couldn't let Charles get hurt again because of this. He shut his eyes closed for a second and released the missiles, making sure they exploded in the ocean, far away from any humans. 

Not having to deal with impending doom anymore, he ignored all the other mutants and human in the room and focused on Charles. He still seemed out of it, and he wasn't sure if it was because of all the pain or because the coin might have messed with his brain more than they originally thought. 

As Raven tried to move closer to him again, Charles flinched and tried to hide, letting out a whimper of pain. It didn't take long after that to understand why he was getting worse. Of course, it was obvious now, everyone was so worried about him that they had been projecting. Charles must be feeling and hearing all their thoughts.  

“Stand back!” He demanded. “Get out .”

Everyone in the room tensed a bit at the tone in his voice but didn't move, the only ones who followed his lead were Azazel, Angel and Riptide, they probably did not want to deal with the drama fest that was happening.

“We are not leaving—” 

Erik didn't care who had said it, he only cared about leaving Charles with enough space so that he could think in peace. “I said back off!” He turned back to look at the others and with a wave of his hand levitated them and got them out of the jet, letting them fall on the sand.

He focused on Charles once again, holding his face in his hand, “Charles, can you hear me? They've gone now, you shouldn't be feeling their emotions anymore.” He whispered and waited for a reply that never came. “C’mon, my friend, you’ve got to give me a sign that you can hear me. I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

Still no response. 

Erik wanted to yell in frustration, he hated seeing Charles like this, hated seeing him hurt. There was no way he could make him hear him in this state. He felt the walls of the jet bend at his anger. 

The idea came in a moment later, he still hadn’t tried one thing. He took off his helmet using his metallokinesis and dropped it to the ground. both his hands were too busy holding Charles. “Okay, let’s try this one more time.” He whispered to himself and before trying to speak to him he took a few moments to clear his mind. He pushed everyone away because their thoughts were affecting Charles, so it was only fair that he controlled his own brain to spare him the uncomfortable feelings. He shoved all his anger deep down and tried to keep his thoughts from jumbling up. 

“ Charles .” he thought clearly as he whispered it out loud. He waited a few moments and was bracing himself for disappointment when he felt something tug at his mind. He looked at Charles, his eyes were still closed but he was almost certain he felt it. 

“Charles, can you hear me? ”

This time he certainly felt it. The presence in his brain he had grown used to in the last couple of months. It was warm and gentle, something so familiar about the new weight inside his brain. He let out half a sob, half a laugh. Charles had heard him, it was progress, and a relief. 

Now that Charles could hear him, he could focus on everything else. He needed to find a way out of there and get him to a hospital, or if that was too risky, he could find a way to take them back to the Westchester Estate, where Hank could check up on Charles to make sure he would recover well. 

He was all too familiar with injuries and lethal wounds. During his time at the camps and growing up with Shaw he had his fair share of horrible experiences, which had taught him to identify the severity of injuries and figure out how worried he should be. However, he had never had to deal with this : a psychological wound. He had no basis for what to expect, or how much Charles would have to do to recover, because he would recover, Erik was not going to allow anything else. 

With a deep breath he steadied his mind once more, making it his priority to keep it calm and without any visible worry. He could feel Charles latch onto his mind, no doubt having something to ground him after what he went through helped, and Erik couldn't lie, the presence of his friend in his mind was as calming to him as it probably was for Charles. 

While he could feel him in his mind, things would be alright. Erik was going to make damn sure of it. 

His panic threw a comeback back seconds later when he felt Charles stopped moving. For the past five minutes or so, ever since he had found him, Charles would not stop thrashing, whimpering, crying or twitching in pain. Now he had grown suspiciously quiet, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

Sure a few minutes ago he would have given anything to make Charles stop crying out in pain but now that Charles grew limp in his arms, he wanted anything but. 

“Charles, you are not allowed to die, do not do this to me.” Erik demanded, making damn sure those thoughts were as clear as day so that Charles could pick up on them. Erik felt an ounce of hope when he felt a strong feeling in his mind, surrounding him entirely. It was Charles, it couldn’t be anything but, he felt the welcoming presence scout through his brain and Erik had never been more relieved of someone inside his mind. 

Then that ounce of hope was snatched away almost as soon as it came, and in a heartbeat, the warmth presence pushing against his mind disappeared and a wave of cold dread washed over him. He for a horrible, excruciating, second, thought that Charles had died. He looked so pale and unmoving. At first glance Charles did not appear to be breathing but once he truly concentrated, he saw Charles chest expanding and inflating ever so slightly. Erik, just to be sure, put two fingers underneath his jaw and checked for a pulse. 

Once he was sure Charles was alive and had simply passed out, he let out a breath he had been holding. It was horrible to see Charles look so dead, without the usual brightness he always carried with him, but a small part of him was glad he was unconscious, this way he didn’t have to deal with the pain, at least for now. Small mercies and all that. 

“Do not worry, Charles, I’ll make sure you are safe.” He moved his sweaty hair away from his face and leaned down to give him a soft kiss on his forehead. “You are going to be alright. That, I promise you.” Determined, he stood up, carrying Charles bridal-style in his arms, and made his way outside the jet where the mutants and Moira were anxiously standing. 

They seemed to have been in a hushed discussion, probably about him, because when they noticed him, they all shut up and looked at each other silently wondering what was going to happen next. No one dared to speak, not yet. Being thrown around like ragdolls by him had not been a fun experience and they didn't want to repeat it. There was something about Erik right now, the way he was glaring at them all that their self-preservation was blaring warning signs in their heads to stay away from pissing him off. 

Erik did not pay any attention to the turmoil going on their minds, he didn't care for it, not now. “You.” He simply walked towards Azazel, not breaking eye contact. “Can you take us out of here?” 

Azazel was about to say something but thought against it and nodded. “Da.” He replied in his thick, russian accent. 

“Good. Take us to 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York.” He ordered. 

The rest of the mutants, and Moira, quickly hurdled around Azazel to get the hell away from there. No one wanted to stay there any longer than necessary and looked utterly relieved they had a way back home. 

Without another word, they all grabbed onto each other, Azazel grabbing onto Erik’s shoulder since his hands were otherwise occupied carrying Charles. In the blink of an eye, they left, a puff of red smoke lingered a few seconds after their departure. All that was left in the beach was the totalled submarine and crashed jet along with the metal helmet, forgotten along with the rest of the wreckage.