amindovermetal‌

Erik wasn’t angry - he was furious. When he’d first gone to the wreckage of the school, no one had been able to tell him where Charles was, and he’d hoped that the idiot had managed to get away to safety.

Not bloody likely if he was in a wheelchair, but maybe he’d been in the training room underground, shielded from harm.

But nothing ever went right where it came to Charles. And when Erik saw him surrounded by medics, bleeding out, leg bandaged and arm in a sling, he nearly saw red.

Metal started creaking and protesting his power crept out despite his attempts to control it. Anger had always been a fine way of activating his abilities, and right now, he was barely even inclined to rein it in. 

“Charles,” he bit out, halting before the other. Of course the idiot gave him overtures of friendship – old friend, code words for the term that they used for each other, when their history was so much more than that. There simply wasn’t a term that encapsulated everything that they were to each other, a relationship that spanned decades and literal wars. 

Friends. Enemies. Opponents. Allies. Rivals. Partners.

“Sorry?” Erik snapped, when Charles offered paltry apologies. “Sorry fixes nothing. We should have moved earlier. We should have struck first.” He knew Charles would disagree, knew that they were gearing up for a fight, but the sight of so many mutants, Charles not least, injured and hurting … he didn’t care. He wanted blood. He wanted revenge. He wanted this fixed. 

“And so… here we are at last,” he bit out, looking around at Genosha. “You should have come to me earlier. We could have prevented this. I told you - I’ve always told you - humans will never co-exist with us peacefully.”

sorry wasn’t enough, and it never would be. too many were dead. but it was all charles could say, all he could really manage. his head and body ached and his insides felt cold, and he wished it were as easy as going to sleep and never waking. giving up had never sounded so sweet. and the more accusing and angry his old friend sounded, the more he knew he could never. “erik, please. i’m tired of fighting.” he glanced at his old partner, eyes soft, chest aching. “not today.” his tone was more pleading than he would’ve liked, but charles xavier was nothing if not honest. 

he wondered where erik would’ve struck. the white house, perhaps. the pentagon. perhaps there would’ve been children on a school field trip, as innocent as the children at the school... charles sighed. “we have to be better than them,” he whispered, and squeezed his eyes shut. “perhaps neither of us have ever been right,” he said quietly, and looked down, shaking his head. “perhaps there is no solution as simple as peace or war.”

perhaps it was time that they took on the offensive. he’d considered it time and time again –  how simple it would be to march on people like ross. but to what end? “but if i know anything, my friend, i know this: if we start a war, it will never end. not until one side commits genocide.” he looked up, finally, and saw erik lehnsherr instead of magneto – they way they were when they first met, brought together by impossible circumstances and with the mindset to change the world and mutant kind. they had been so close.

“i know you, erik. and i know that’s not what you want.” he paused, and his good hand tightened over the handles of his chair, knuckles turning white. “i have to believe that’s not what you want.”

frostcloned‌

They waited in impatient stances as he spoke, lecturing on about hope and peace – as if they were truly achievable goals. Despite others preconceived notions regarding the three blondes, the truth was that they did want a place that was safe for mutants – but they didn’t believe letting humans slaughter them and pray that they’d be remorseful and learn goodness was the way it was going to happen. No, they’d have the world it should be, even if they needed to force every last person into it.

That was why they’d sought out Erik, offered to help him with his island promising to be safe for mutants. They trusted his ability to achieve the goals they all sought, but without the time consuming restrictions others were concerned about. 

“How disappointing.” Three voices spoke in unison. They had the decency to wait until his speech was over, approaching only when others began to clear away from the area. “A waste of potential.” Phoebe chimed, arms folded in front of her.

Esme stepped forward, easily the most diplomatic of the three, though Sophie and Phoebe were never ones to hold back their opinions. “With all due respect, they destroyed your school, they murdered children. How do you not see that as an act of war?” Esme’s head tilted, almost in an honest curiosity. There was something about interacting with other telepaths that was intriguing to them – they couldn’t so easily dive into his head and scope out the answers they wanted, just as he would be harder pressed to get inside theirs if he chose. 

“Wars have been waged for far less,” “and soldiers don’t hold back their shot out of fear that someone may call them a monster.” Sophie was more sly, good at getting under your skin without touching your mind.

charles spotted the frost clones in the crowd, startled by their uncanny resemblance to the white queen herself. except for their eyes – they glowed blue in a way that was almost hypnotic, as beautiful as their diamond forms. and he knew they wouldn’t like what he had to say. they were the sort that never did, and he could hardly blame them for it. given everything that had happened in the world, and everything that had happened to them – to invalidate that rage would be to ignore atrocities that lead them there.

charles looked at each one of them as they spoke in turn, each as disappointed in his views as the last. he stopped at sophie, clenching his jaw as her words sunk in – hard and deep. "mutants don’t exist to be soldiers. that’s not the responsibility of mutant kind,” he argued,  knowing that his words came from a place of defensiveness rather than intellect. but he thought about his students. the smaller ones, the less powerful ones, the ones who swept spiders out the door rather than stepping on them. he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, re-focusing. he looked to esme.

“what they did was an act of violence,” charles said, working hard to keep his voice even, “extereme, bloody violence. but not war. wars, by definition, are fought and waged by two sides, not one.” they had to fight back. charles knew that. but what erik magneto wanted, what the frosts wanted. he shook his head.

“you think i’m worried about being called a monster. i’m not. i’ve considered fighting back. i have. we’ve fought... sentinels, each other – we’ve fought a being that embodies the end of the world – but this fight is different. in this fight, there is no better ending. when we destroyed apocalypse, the world was made a safer place. but if we wage this war, what happens? what are the two possible outcomes?” he pauses, but doesn’t give them much time to respond. he supposes he could have – they were as strong as emma herself, and it wouldn’t be hard for them to get into his head themselves when they grew sick of his voice. still, it needed to be said.

“we lose and we die. we win... and the humans that are left turn on us out of fear. they decide to finish the war. they win, we die. we win, and we’ve committed global genocide – then what’s left? the survivors we spare, human children, they cower from us because we will always be the people that murdered their friends and families. they grow up in fear, their children adopt it. if we fight this war now, it will only ever get worse. one way or another.”

thursdaysgod‌

thor had arrived on the tiny island nation known as genosha – he’d gone in disguise, a blanket wrapped around him to hide his face - he wanted to be unseen, unknown, but most of all, he wanted to listen. he’d heard about the mutant people and their plight and he wanted to help, to aid them, and he figured that starting with their leader, this charles xavier, would be the best place to begin.

when charles had finished his speech, thor moved to the front of the crowd, looking around at the solemn faces, understanding their fears and sadness, but recognizing that they needed someone within the crowd to initiate a response. pumping a fist into the air, thor let out a cheer and pulled his blanket down to rest around his shoulders as he moved to stand before the mutant leader.

“i have heard of you, charles xavier, i am thor, king of new asgard and god of thunder and i am here to offer you my assistance.“ he stated, assessing the man before him before offering his hand. “your words are strong, favorable, and noteworthy, your people are lucky they have you to lead them.“

he offered a kind smile, kneeling down so that his towering frame wouldn’t intimidate the smaller man. “we cannot lose hope, i like that - something i had to learn the hard way for my own people, sadly we too have lost our home.” a melancholic look came over his features as he glanced away, his duel colored eyes searching their surroundings before landing upon the other man.

“i may be an avenger, but i am also a leader, and if there is one thing that i understand more than most of these people is that this is taking a lot more out of you than you are showing them,“ gently he raised his hand and placed it over charles’, “i will help you, friend.“

of the things charles expected, a cheer was not among them – but there it was, contributed by an avenger no less. the ties between the avengers and the x-men had been loose before, and tightened after thanos had ravaged the entire universe – and charles respected them. they were there when the x-men couldn’t be, and they functioned at a level that made them central and important to the world. he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time before the world turned its back on them the way it had mutants – but still, here they all were. persisting.

charles wouldn’t invade thor’s mind but he could tell the words the god spoke were true – he was a man with that sort of air about him, one you could trust. it was a rare thing, and charles appreciated him all the more for it. he shook thor’s hand gratefully.

“the pleasure is all mine, your majesty,” charles said, unable to resist a smile. thor, he understood, was vastly underestimated. not for his strength – anyone who would come against it had reason to fear his swing of mjolnir or stormbreaker  – but in intelligence and kindness. “i’m afraid a lot of people are going to be... unhappy with my methods. i’m glad to hear from someone like you that i’m not completely mad after all.” he looked sideways at the crowd that had listened to him, searching their faces for the hope he so desperately wished to cultivate. it was too early. wounds still too fresh. too many were dead.

“i suppose you’re right,” charles said quietly, nodding. “i am terrified. and angry. and devastated. sometimes i wish i could go back to the way it was when i quieted the voices.” he didn’t mean that, of course. not really. he never wanted to go back to being that person – hiding in a big empty mansion accompanied by nothing but painful reminders that he’d survived while they hadn’t. “they want a war. i fear if we give it to them... the future is more bleak than the present.” but only he and logan knew that. the last time humans waged a war on mutants and mutants met them on the battlefield, they lost. 

JAMES MCAVOY as Charles Xavier in X-Men Dark Phoenix

@amindovermetal

“i’m fine,” charles insisted, waving off someone serving as a medic. this one was a young boy – no more than twenty – who was small in stature but who seemed undeterred by the sight of the aftermath of violence. he’d probably seen more than any boy his age should have, and charles wished he could send him inside, away from it all, so he could actually be a normal young adult for a few minutes. but he, like the boy,  knew that wasn’t really an option – genosha needed as much help as it could get for those who had been caught in the explosions.

explosions, plural. he still couldn’t quite process that. “it’s stopped bleeding. i don’t feel it.” he rubbed his hand over his bandaged leg, where just hours before a large wooden stake had been. he hadn’t noticed it when he first woke up – not until he’d started to become dizzy from loss of blood did he realize how bad the injury had actually been. he imagined the pain would’ve been unbearable, had he been able to feel it. his broken arm was in a sling, and there were others who needed more immediate attention. he touched the boys shoulder, nodding softly, and watched as he departed to the next victim of the attack. charles sighed, watching the people around him, wondering how it had come to this. what everything they’d done had been for. what they were supposed to do next. he was used to knowing the next step, having an idea or at least a semblance of one – but it felt bleak.

even magneto’s helmet couldn’t hide erik’s arrival from the telepath; charles felt him at his side, a looming presence that had once been one of comfort but had become one of strained friendship. he let out an unamused laugh through his nose, and shook his head – not at erik, but at everything. his hands tightened around the end of the arm rests of his chair, and for a moment, he closed his eyes.

“it’s good to see you, OLD FRIEND.” maybe that’s what they were always destined to be –  until they really. were old and tired and dying. old friends. something ancient. in the past. sometimes charles told himself that it never did have to be this way – that somewhere on the road to their separation he had missed something, that what followed was his fault. charles xavier was a man of guilt and self pity, two of his greatest faults. he knew it back when logan came to him from the future, and he knew it now. old habits were hard to break – he could only imagine how much worse it would get if the voices started again. but charles kept himself steady on his feet, his eyes clear – his wasn’t known as the most powerful brain in the world for nothing, and the least he could do was pretend to have some semblance of the togetherness and serenity that he used to.

“i’m sorry that it had to be like this.” he wanted to say he was sorry for everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours – but he knew what erik would’ve had him do, and that’s what gave him pause.

“genosha is a beautiful island, erik. what you’ve built here…” he swept his unbroken arm in front of him, as if that was enough to embody the whole island for what it was. genosha was stunning. it was green and peaceful, and raptors aside, it was safe. it was what his school was supposed to be, before its location was revealed. it wasn’t envy charles felt but sadness, that he couldn’t provide this for his students, and fear that, like the institute, genosha would not be safe forever. even with all of them protecting it. “i’m happy i finally get to see it.”

“when i formed the x-men, it was in the face of… derision and hatred.”

charles was in genosha, with what remained of those who were on their side. x-men. mutants. avengers. humans. everyone mistreated, everyone who fought for them. they were looking to him, now, waiting for him to speak the way he was known to do. it took him longer than normal. there was a great weight on his chest, and when he first opened his mouth, he closed it, unsure of himself. but they still looked at him. to him. he pushed on.

“they were sworn, out with the intent of killing each other. they put aside their differences in their shared disgust and fear of us. i said then that there was a way to peace, and peace cannot be won through violence.”

charles paused, pressing his lips together. there were some who wouldn’t like this.

“i believe that still.

“the ache for revenge is tempting, i know. i know because i feel it, too. but we can’t become the people they think we are. we are mutants, and proudly so. but we are also people. we aren’t monsters. we never have been.”

charles nodded, reassuring them but reassuring himself at the same time. reassuring himself that his methods were clear, that they were effective. that it wasn’t because of his belief in peace between humans and non-humans.

“we can’t be what they make us.

“right now, more than anything, we need each other. to help each other. to heal. there are mutants and other powered people out there who are still in danger. we can’t abandon and forget them in our rage.”

he sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. he needed cerebro. if he could’ve made his way into cerebro, he could’ve located the ones lost and in need. guilt continued to weigh on him, but he lifted his head and opened his eyes.

“we can’t lose hope. we are hope. hold onto it. hold on to each other. we won’t let this be how our story ends.”

ofwhitequeen‌

Emma had no idea where she was going to take her classroom of students. For now, she was sending them to Frost International- at least there they could sit tight and wait as her people looked them over. She didn’t trust anyone in that damned company, but for now, she had to.

She hadn’t caught hide or hair of Colossus or Hank. Which was bad. It meant they were either dead, taken, or somewhere else. She just prayed they were not here. Combing through the wreckage of the school felt all too familiar. Two years ago to be exact. Except last time, they somehow had a speedster save them just in the nick of time. No one had died- well one person had. But now… God, this was the third building to explode on her. Maybe she should stay out of buildings. It seemed destruction followed Emma Frost everywhere.

It was that moment she felt an all-too familiar presense in her head. Finally. She opened her mind up, letting the wall that may as well be made of diamond drop enough for him to get inside to speak to her. I’ve been here for the last few hours. She spoke to him as she entered the rubble of a room that almost looked familiar. What was this? The main room? My class is safe, I’m having them taken to Frost International. They should be safe there until I can move them. She paused. One casualty. She said, finally. One too many. And if he knew her well enough- he’d know, deep down, she felt she failed them just like he did. She promised them safety.

She knew she shouldn’t, but how else did she cope with loss? She never did handle it well. She always immediately tried to hide it under a guise of not caring- but she knew Charles could probably see right through it. Oh darling, it’s not your fault. You’re not the one who did this. You put too much blame onto yourself. There’s nothing for you to apologize for. She ducked under more rubble. Where are you? Before I so carelessly cut you off by going into my diamond form, I’d like to know where you are. I’m coming to get you.

“emma.” charles breathed her name in a surprised sigh of relief. they hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but on one thing they could agree: their students take priority. always. they’d taken on that responsibility with pride and dignity and love. he knew that if he reached out now, sought her feelings, not just her thoughts, they’d be as shattered as his. hours, he thought, dumbfounded. could it have really been hours? what was the likelihood that there were any living left in the mansion, besides him and emma? please. please let them be alive.

have you searched the whole school? has there only been the one? that was impossible, he knew. an explosion and collapse like that would not have taken just one casuality. he himself had gotten lucky... if you can call surviving in place of your students lucky. it made him shudder.

emma was wrong, though, when she said none of this was charles’ fault. of course it had been his fault. he should’ve taken greater precautions. but there was a wisdom in her words, because no matter how he felt, he couldn’t behave that way. he was professor x. he’d taken up that title and it was his job to stand true to it. not for his own sake, but for the sake of those who looked up to him. 

i’m by the staircase. i don’t see anyone around me. get me last, emma. look for anyone else who might still be alive first. the arm that was pinned under rubble ached, and when he moved even in the slightest the pressure on his shoulder was immense, but he ignored it. be careful, emma. i don’t know how stable the rest is. it could be ready to collapse at any second. even in your diamond form...

itsnanotech

It took Tony a moment to register that he’d stumbled over a wheelchair. Another moment to realise that he knew that face. And clearly, the other knew who he was. So much for incognito.

“Professor Xavier?” he said, excitement bubbling up in him. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’ve worked a lot with Jean Grey and others at your school, you know? And they’ve always spoken highly of you.”

But Xavier’s serious demeanour made him realise that this wasn’t a chance meeting or a social visit. Tony sighed mentally – of course it wasn’t. The world had ended and had been saved and restored, but there was always something new out there. The war never ended.

“Of course,” he said, shaking Xavier’s hand and giving him a warm smile as he retrieved his sunglasses. “Why don’t you come in? This is the Sanctum Sanctorum - not technically my house, but also technically the house I’m staying in right now.” 

He left Xavier to ponder over what exactly that meant as he opened the door. “So… how can I help you?”

charles was relieved that tony seemed pleased to be meeting him, rather than tentative. he would’ve given the latter, given the nature of things – but tony stark wasn’t like other people. xavier knew he could trust him. “likewise,” he said amiably, and smiled. “i’m grateful for you looking out for her. not that she can’t handle herself, by any means – but i’m glad she wasn’t alone.” he followed tony into the sanctum, eyebrow raised at his cryptic explanation for being there. perhaps he wasn’t supposed to know about him and strange. he’d take it up with stephen at another time. still, he smiled. 

“don’t worry, by the way. you were quite incognito. i’m afraid it’s rather difficult to slip past me. it’s not your fault.” a light joke, a strange attempt to lighten the air between them before he laid out his request for help.

“things are bad, mr. stark. i haven’t seen them like this since... i’ve never seen them like this. not even when we first went public. my students, mutants – we’re being hunted like game. there are those who may even be participating for... for sport.” charles was visibly shaken, jaw clenching after the last word. he wanted so badly to believe in the world around him, to feel safe, but with the way things are now, it didn’t feel possible. erik would say that’s why his way was the best. charles knew that wasn’t true. as easy as it would’ve been to do what erik wanted –– the world would never change.

“i don’t scare easily, but i am terrified. i don’t think i can keep the school cloaked for much longer. and with the compound compromised... i believe the sanctum is the only safe place left in the world for my students.” a voice in the back of his mind reminded him of genosha, but he and erik hadn’t exactly parted on good terms. for all the love they held for each other, they never saw eye to eye... and although charles wanted to believe that erik would put their grievances aside for the protection of endangered mutants, he couldn’t really be sure. in truth, he wasn’t sure he knew erik at all any more.

“i promised i would protect them,” he said finally, quietly.

@ofwhitequeen

charles should’ve seen it coming. he should’ve been more realistic – started relocating students sooner, creating better defenses around the mansion. he knew this was coming, he’d seen it before. he’d seen it a hundred times. the inability and fear that people felt of those who were different. it would never stop because, as good as things might get, there are those who will never understand, never listen, no matter how well spoken he was, no matter how well behaved mutants were. he knew they would be the first to come after the mansion, but he’d hesitated. he’d been afraid of exposing them more by moving in plain sight. he should’ve known that would be the safer course of action.

charles was relocating them in groups, cloaking them while they moved. he could’ve moved them in greater masses if they were not being watched so closely. some of the students, the younger ones, were scared, and he moved them first, promising over and over that they would be alright. that they would survive this. that for every bad person, there were two more who were good.

he was in the mansion when the explosion happened, and the building started to collapse. he hadn’t even had a chance to process what was happening, to realize that the rumbling of the ground was not an earthquake, before the ceilings started to collapse. he’d screamed “RUN!”, threw himself forward out of his chair to shove one of his students away from a piece of his school’s falling foundation. it landed instead on his arm, pinning him to the ground. he screamed, sharp, burning pain shooting through his arm and into his shoulder. another piece of falling debris hit him hard in the head – and everything went black.

when charles came to, it was over. the mansion was more silent than it had been in years. he didn’t have to see the bodies to know that he was surrounded by the dead, and the only thing he could think was why them? how could they die and not me?

he looked over his head at his arm, pinned and bloody under a rugged stone. the pain had become dull and aching. his right leg had been pierced with a piece of broken wood from the staircase – he could just make out what remained of the carved design. his breathing was shallow and labored and he tried to control the devastation and panic that rose up in his chest – the urge to scream and never stop screaming, because he’d failed them. he promised them safety and he’d failed them. they were dead. his students were dead.

he lifted his free arm and bit down on the sleeve of his tweed coat to muffle the sound – and he screamed. tears streaked down his face and he screamed until he could feel his voice go hoarse. a moment of silence.

he tried to re-focus his mind, to quiet his own thinking and listen for others, searching for life. he sent out a silent message of his own into the minds of any mutant who could hear him. any mutant still alive. “if you’re trapped, make as much noise as you can. anything. if you’re alive, if you’re safe and you can move, search for life. help them. please.” he paused, swallowing hard, putting his shaking hand to his forehead. “i’m sorry.”

itsnanotech‌

It was January and it was snowing. Blizzard level snowing.

Still, it made it easier for Tony to get around. He wasn’t exactly under arrest yet, or a fugitive, but Ross had been snooping around trying to get information on his involvement in the prison breakout, and there were still far too many people who weren’t happy with the Avengers.

Bundling up against the cold was a convenient way of hiding the arc reactor, and an excuse to wrap a thick scarf around most of his face. With the thick coat, the sunglasses and the hat - and the fact that Iron Man wasn’t known for actually walking around (when would he, when he much preferred to drive?) he was hoping that no one would pay him two minds as he made his way towards the Sanctum. 

Unfortunately, a gust of snow got into his eyes and he collided with someone on the doorstep, dropping his bags and losing the hat and the sunglasses. Biting back a curse, he scrambled for his stuff, before glancing over at the person.

“Oh,” he said. “Hello.”

charles was sure he’d never worn so many layers of clothing in his life, but it was the only possible way to be outside for more than five minutes. it took him time to find the sanctum – longer than he’d expected – and he’d had to search more minds than he planned to to get here. its location was safer than the school’s – and no amount of clothing could protect him from the chill the thought sent through him.

he was trying to rub away the goosebumps when a half-hidden tony stark was blown into him, stumbling over his chair. “so sorry –” charles started, reaching out by instinct and manging to catch at least the sunglasses. he cleared his throat and held the sunglasses out in offering.

“mr. stark,” charles greeted, voice not erring on the edge of kindness or falsely positive pretenses like it might normally. the situation was dire. he was desperate. and if anyone would understand, he hoped it would be the avenger who’d finally recanted his signature from the accords. “my name is charles xavier.” he reached out his right hand out of sheer politeness, though he knew tony would have heard as much about him as he’d heard about tony. “i’m afraid i’ve come to ask for your help.”

@thephoenixrising

it would have been simpler to reach out and look for her with cerebro – just to make sure she was safe. but that was a boundary he wouldn’t cross. not with jean. it was one thing, to search for mutants – another to invade a certain level of privacy with someone he swore he’d never do that to. jean’s mind was complicated and like nothing he’d ever seen before – but she was more than her mind, and he would never reduce her to her mutation any more than the rest of his students.

it had taken charles some time and convincing from piotr that it would be safe to leave the school uncloaked. already people had come searching with intent to harm – armed rednecks, boomers who blamed mutants for the worlds problems, soldier-types, street criminals. it didn’t matter how dangerous they were. they were there, and more would come. his students were in danger – mutant children who had come to his school for safety and protection, and he could barely even provide that. 

by the time charles reached the summers estate, he’d been awake for twenty two hours –  the majority of which he’d spent cloaking the school. the older students started to gather, make a plan, and while he knew it was smarter that way, he told them it wouldn’t be necessary. perhaps it had been premature to make that decision. he left the school in piotr’s care, and if anyone could take care of an entire army of bigots, it was colossus.

he cloaked himself, of course, when he left, already guilty about the danger he was putting scott in by going to the summers estate at all. but they deserved to know, and to hear it from him. when he reached the door, he closed his eyes, reaching out his mind so that jean could hear him, if she was listening.

“jean.” it was then that it dawned on charles that he wasn’t sure what to say. what could he tell a girl who he’d promised to help, to protect? “the school’s location is public.” he swallowed, squeezing his eyes together more tightly. sleep threatened him. “please. i have to know you and scott are okay.”