#CHARLES/ERIK/MOIRA DANCE WITH THE WOMAN PLEASE

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Marianne needs someone to dance with her. She has not danced with anyone besides her son in five years. She needs someone to twirl her around the floor and hold her close and have a fun little time with. Dancing is one of her love languages and she's being deprived.

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Eighteen: The Night Before

AN: Get in losers, we’re going to Cuba.

Word Count: 3.0k

Trigger Warnings: none

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Nineteen: The Embargo Line

I had woken up early, as I always did. I loved watching the sunrise, the bright sun illuminated my room as I paced worriedly up and down my room. I had every right to be worried, there was the very real threat of possible war at hand. It also didn't help that I was running on three hours of sleep, at most I probably managed to get four hours of sleep. All in all, I'm a jittery mess right now.

"You keep pacing up and down, you'll put a hole in the floor," a voice quipped softly. I whirled around and saw Charles standing in the frame of the door looking dapper in his three piece suit, I didn't even hear the door open. "You're scared," he noted, still using the same tone.

"Of course I'm scared," I repeated almost incredulously, I walked over to the window. "Because what if we can't stop this? What if World War III is inevitable?" I stared out at the burning sun of the morning, overthinking.

Charles' footsteps came closer to me until he stood behind me, surrounding my waist with his left arm.

"Everything will be alright, love," he assured me with a smile.

"I hope you're right," I murmured softly, before I looked over my shoulder at Charles with a confused expression. "I don't understand, why are you being so kind to me? I...I betrayed you yesterday," I sighed, shaking my head.

"Because in some strange way I understand why you did it," Charles began, taking his free hand and pulling some of my hair behind my ear. "I know what kind of woman you are Claudia, you're kind and loving, but you hide behind an ice queen exterior because you’re afraid of what might happen if you opened yourself up to a man. You’re afraid of getting hurt again," he replied, as if the thoughts could not be contained and he just had to voice them.

Charles pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on my temple before surrounding me with both of his arms.

"The night we first met I couldn't help but observe your behavior. You treated the men like playthings, for you, it’s better that way. Keep them at arm's length and you don't get hurt," he paused, as I slowly placed my hands on top of his. "You never said you loved me the night we danced in the library. You also avoided saying the word relationship the very next day," Charles recalled softly, and I felt a slight pang of sorrow hit me.

"I should've known that you would've observed that," I sighed in his arms, dropping my head down.

"You're afraid of being vulnerable, Claudia," Charles stated. "You're afraid that history will repeat itself. You're afraid of us failing, but I'll wait for you Claudia," he finished, pulling away and held my hand. "Come on, love, we have a long day in front of us," he said starting to walk out of the room.

Everyone met in the main foyer of the mansion, well everyone except Hank, he never appeared. Suspicious and concerned for Hank's abnormal absence we decided to go to his lab and look for him. Pinned to the wooden doors of the lab was a note written in black marker on a piece of paper that read, 'Gone to the airbase, bring the crate marked X - Hank'

Charles pulled off the note, and opened the door. Inside was a disaster. Shattered glass, broken furniture, and things strewn about. He began to make his way through the mess and we followed slowly behind him.

"What the hell happened here?" Erik asked, sounding slightly concerned. Partly for Hank's well-being, but mostly as to how he could have made such a mess. I couldn't blame him, I to was concerned as to how Hank had managed this.

Charles ignored him and headed to the crate marked 'X' and opened it, all of us peering inside, revealing a folded pile of navy blue and yellow suits.

"Hank has been busy," Erik commented, looking over Charles' shoulder.

I peered down at the suits, my nose slightly turned up in distaste, "God, this shade of yellow doesn't even suit me," I stated, earning a small chuckle from Erik.

"Do we really have to wear these?" Alex questioned, causing me to laugh softly.

Charles didn't look up from the crate, "As none of us are mutated to endure extreme G-force or being riddled with bullets, I suggest we suit up," Charles answered, with a hint of snarkiness.

Charles quickly distributed the suits and we all left the destroyed lab to go get changed into them. Raven, Moira, and I dressed in the ladies room. The suits were made of material that looked like, but wasn't quite leather. But it was surprisingly comfortable. Moira suit's was different, she wore a army green suit issued by good ol' Uncle Sam himself.

You know, it was very thoughtful of Hank to go out of his way to make these suits for the team, but he didn't really consider the possibility that the female body was slightly different to the male body. I almost broke a sweat trying to squeeze my hips and upper body into the leathery material. I looked around and could see Raven having the same problem. I left the room to see if the boys were finished getting dressed, only to see that Erik was the first person out. I tried not to stare, but Erik looked even more dangerously handsome.

The bastard.

Silently, I turned around and began to creep back into the room, I would of made it had I not stepped on a particular spot of the floor which let out a loud creak.

"Claudia?" Erik called, and my back stiffened.

I slowly turned on my heel and faced him, "Erik," I greeted, with a tight-lipped smile as I moved slightly closer to him.

"About last night-" he began.

"There's nothing to discuss," I interjected, glancing down at my hands to break his gaze. "I think the both of us made that very clear," I continued, lifting my eyes back to Erik and studying his face.

He looked a little tired and I guessed he had trouble sleeping, whether it was from our passionate kiss, argument, or possibly both I couldn't tell.

Erik sighed and just nodded his head, "Fine," he breathed out. "But Claudia, I want you to do something today not for me, but for yourself," Erik requested, taking a step forward.

"And what's that?" I asked curiously.

"Don't hold back today,"

~~~x~~~

After everybody was dressed we made our way to the airfield to find Hank. Once we reached the airbase, he was still nowhere to be found. What we did see, though, was a sleek and fast looking jet. I stared at the jet in front of me in awe. I knew Hank was a genius, but this was amazing.

"Where's Hank?" Raven asked, looking left and right for any sign of the missing scientist.

All of us turned to her not really sure how to answer her question when a voice echoed through the building.

"I'm here," a voice called out gravelly, walking towards us.

It came from right in front of us. In the blinding light from outside, a figure could be seen walking towards us. The figure looked to be taller and slightly bigger than a man. The outline got closer and it didn't look like a man quite as much anymore.

"Hank?" Charles asked, sounding puzzled.

"It didn't attack the cells, it enhanced them," Hank stated, looking down in shame. "It didn't work," he said with disappointment obviously in his voice.

Once he got closer, everyone gasped slightly. This didn't look like Hank at all. The 'man' that stood before us had a thick layer of electric blue fur covering his body. He had turned into some sort of animal. Although, Hank's signature glasses were the only thing that made him, well, Hank.

Raven reached out to him, "Yes, it did, Hank," she told him. "Don't you see? This is who you were meant to be. This is you," she caressed his cheek. "No more hiding,"

Erik cleared his throat, before he clapped his hand against Hank's shoulder, "Never looked better man," he commented foolishly.

I had to physically stop myself from slapping a hand to my forehead. Jesus Christ, Erik could be a downright idiot sometimes. Hank's hand swiftly found it's way to Erik's throat, choking him.

"Hank," Charles warned, stepping closer to him.

Hank ignored him and leaned closer towards Erik, glaring into his eyes, "Don't mock me," he growled, tightening his grip on Erik's neck.

"Hank, put him down immediately, please," Charles ordered. "Hank. Hank!" he pleaded some more.

From the looks of it, Hank wasn't letting go anytime soon and Erik's face began to turn a nasty shade of purple. As much as he probably deserved it, this needed to be stopped. I stepped forward from beside Charles and placed a hand on Hank's shoulder.

I spoke calmly, "Hank, let him go," Hank let go and Erik dropped to his knees.

Erik looked up at Hank, his voice was raspy, "I wasn't," he breathed out, and I leaned down to help Erik up.

"Are you all right?" I asked, and he just nodded.

Erik rubbed his throat, "Better now," he answered quietly just for my ears to hear.

I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head slightly as a small smile crept on my lips.

"Even I got to admit you look pretty badass," Alex began, interrupting our side conservation. "I think I got a new name for you, Beast," Alex announced proudly, and Hank gave a growl.

"You're sure you can fly this thing?" Sean asked looking at Hank, then back at the jet.

Hank might have looked like a beast, but at the mention of the jet he was normal, geeky Hank again, "Of course I can. I designed it," he answered, and gave him a smug smile before making his way towards the jet, all of us following behind him.

~~~x~~~

We raced over the fleet of ships on the edge of Cuba with Hank in the captain's seat, Moira on the communications controls and the rest of us lined up in the seats on the sides. All of us harnessed in.

Everyone was dead silent in the jet. I could feel the fear and adrenaline from everyone. It was overwhelming, truth be told. I felt like I was going to be sick and that I was going to vomit. Each and every person were thinking of ways this mission could turn south, if we didn't make it better. If we don't pull this off, WWIII could start and everyone would die. This was something everyone and myself couldn't help but think this way.

"It looks pretty messy down there," Hank mumbled as he flew the jet around the Embargo Line.

Looking over at Charles, I watched as he raised his finger to his temple, searching for where we would find Shaw.

Charles' eyes snapped open, "The crew of the Aral Sea are all dead. Shaw's been there," he informed.

Erik leaned up in his seat and gripped the sides, "He's still here, somewhere," he insisted.

He was mad. And frustrated.

"He's set the ship on course for the embargo line!" Charles exclaimed, turning to Moira.

"That ship crosses the line; our boys are going to blow it up. And the war begins," she replied worriedly.

"And Shaw wins," I stated grimly.

"Unless they're not our boys," Charles reasoned, and we all looked to him questioningly.

I watched as he raised his finger to his temple again, screwing his face up in concentration. Moments later, chaos surrounded us. A blaring alarm went off before Hank jerked the plane into a roll trying to avoid something that was obviously come straight towards us.

"Hold on!" Charles' warning coming a bit too late.

Hank gave a snarl as tried to adjust the plane. I screamed in panic along with everybody else and felt Alex grip my arm and quickly flipped my hand around grabbed his hand as the jet went totally upside down and then finally righted as I just caught the cargo ship exploding out the window.

"A little warning next time Professor," Hank spoke back as I struggled to take a couple deep breaths.

"Sorry about that," He apologized sounding slightly embarrassed, and looked over to Raven, who had screamed right along with me. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Both she and Sean responded, but it was Sean who looked the most shaken up as he drew in a slow breath.

"You alright?" Alex asked, looking at me.

I breathed deeply once more, moving my hair out of my face, "Never been better," I quipped breathlessly.

Everyone caught their breath, "That was inspired Charles," Moira complimented dryly, while flipping some switches in front of her.

"Thank you very much, but I still can't locate Shaw," he mumbled, still holding his fingers to his temple.

"He probably wearing that helmet of his," I spoke up, gathering Charles attention.

"Then that's going to cause us a big problem," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Erik was becoming increasingly angry and frustrated, "He's down there. We need to find him now!" he urged.

"Hank?" Charles called, looking to their pilot.

"Is there anything unusual on the radar or scanners?" Hank asked Moira.

Moira took a second to respond, "No, nothing," she answered, shaking her head.

Hank was exasperated, "Well then he must be underwater," he said begrudgingly. "And obviously we don't have sonar," he continued grumbling.

"Yes we do," Sean looked determined and confident, not cocky, not like the usual Sean.

I looked over with a small smile, getting his point.

"Yes we do," Charles repeated, with renewed vigor as he quickly pulled off his headset and started to undo his harness with Erik while Sean was already moved across to the hatch by the handles in the top. "Hank, level the bloody plane," Charles shouted as he and Erik tried to move across the tilted floor, same as Sean had been doing. I felt the whoop in my stomach as he did finally allowing them to walk.

Sean looked alarmed as Erik got closer, "Whoa," he called as he turned around and saw Erik moving to cross the hatch to stand on the same side as Charles and him. "You back right off," he demanded, probably having flashbacks about his second flying lesson where Erik had shoved him off the satellite. I let out a smile and with a small chuckle, Erik raised his hands and took a step back. Sean looked to Hank.

"Beast! Open the Bombay doors!" he called up.

With wide eyes I watched as the doors opened, filling the cabin with roaring wind and could only see Charles yelling at Sean, trying to lecture him before he dropped out of the plane not before giving him a pat on the back and he took a step back. Sean positioned himself at the doors and it was then as I looked to Charles' mouth that I could see him counting down before Sean jumped out with a shout. With Hank closing the doors all of us looked to Charles while Moira warned the other ships.

Moira talked into the radio, "Alert the fleet, they may want to take their cans off,"

There was a tense silence and the only noise I could hear was the engine and the wind. Charles yelled, "Banshee's got a location on Shaw!" He turned to look at Erik. "You ready for this?" He asked Erik.

"Let's find out," he nodded and gripped onto the side of the plane as Charles relayed the information to Hank who flipped around the jet. Then slowing down he lowered the jets landing gear with Erik on one of the wheels.

A moment or two passed in silence until I could hear a rumbling sound emerging from the water. It was muffled for quite some time, until it got louder and louder. I looked out the windows and my widened my eyes in amazement, right before my eyes was Shaw's submarine floating in the air. Hank, pushed forward, making us go a little faster and higher taking it out of my view, but when Charles lunged forward I knew that something was wrong.

I felt a sudden sense of dread coming from both Charles and Erik. Something was going wrong. Very, very wrong.

Charles was desperate and I could hear him as yelled for Erik, "Erik, take my hand!"

"Hold on guys, it's gonna get bumpy!" Hank called over the headset.

It was then we all looked forward and saw it was a tornado. Like what happened at the CIA base. Only this time we were on a plane, nothing good could come of this. Quickly, I clamped my eyes shut and worked on taking a deep breath as I felt a familiar energy around my hands and then quickly pushed it around us, making my largest force field ever. Instantly the plane leveled out, but the whirlwind on the outside was eager to get in.

"I can't hold it for long!" I called, my hands beginning to shake. "Get Erik's ass in here now!" I yelled, trying to keep my hands steady.

"Erik, take my hand!" Charles shouted as it started to flicker and the jet bumped a little to the side, jolting us all and knocked my concentration a little more.

"Breathe," Alex spoke from my other side as I felt Hank jolt forward, trying to get out of the storm and it only seemed to fight back. Groaning, I felt the strain and gritted my teeth as it flickered again and we jolted.

"Let it go!" Charles shouted and I took it that Erik was inside and without warning I released the force field, sending us into a spiral.

I flicked open my eyes just as Erik pounced in Charles, pinning him to the ground like a high powered magnet as we crashed to the ground with the sound of screeching metal. The last thing I remembered, before blacking out, was seeing the plane crash onto the beach.

Chapter Twenty: The Cuban Missile Crisis

[sareyen]

The Price of Hope (Cherik): Part 1/4

Read on ao3

Legion (2010) AU: The apocalypse is coming, and the key to humankind’s survival lies in a pregnant waitress and a rag-tag group of strangers, all broken in their own ways. Charles, the oldest of the archangels, sacrifices everything - his wings, his Gift, Erik - to help the humans that Heaven has given up on. Because, he believes, that even if they stumble and lose their way, it doesn’t mean that they are lost forever.

Chapter 1

“For behold, the Lord will come in fire And His chariots like the whirlwind, To render His anger with fury, And His rebuke with flames of fire. For the Lord will execute judgment by fire And by His sword on all flesh, And those slain by the Lord will be many.”

Isaiah 66:16

“Charles, don’t be foolish!” Erik hissed, wrenching Charles’s arm back, forcing the shorter angel to look at him. Bottomless blue eyes stared up at Erik, determined. Unwavering. That gaze that always made Erik weak now only angered him.

‘Let me go, Erik,’ Charles pushed into Erik’s mind, the internal echo making Erik quake. But, still, Erik did not let go of Charles’s arm and only squeezed tighter.

“I will not,” Erik churned out, pulling Charles closer, the man’s wings tensing. “Charles, this is madness. You’d give everything for those… those humans. How could you…”

‘You, who is so beautiful and pure, so full of everything that is good. You, who has always been the best of all of us. Why would you want to lower yourself to the level of those humans who are beyond salvation?’

Charles’s eyes softened for a moment, likely overhearing his closest friend’s honest thoughts. Red lips curved gently, before flattening back out into a resolute line.

‘I have hope, my friend,’ Charles supplied softly, slipping his left arm from Erik’s grip to reach up and cup the taller angel’s angular cheek.

“Hope,” Erik said bitterly, lips pulling back in something resembling a snarl. Erik’s steely-grey eyes narrowed as he gathered a sharply cut collection of thoughts and images in his mind, the familiar thrum of Charles’s own mind buzzing around the fringes of his consciousness. Erik felt hesitation, never wanting to hurt Charles, but disregarded the feeling because he had to make Charles see.

Erik threw all of the images he had gathered from the past few millennia at Charles, who winced and stumbled a little, held in place by Erik’s hands which again gripped his biceps, shaking the stubborn man.

Erik sent Charles images of humans at their worst – hurting children, ravaging the land, of countless wars leaving blood to soak the Earth red. Erik throttled Charles’s mind with everything that was terrible, of everything soiled and tainted and so unlike the man wearing pristine robes of white, fringed with sunlit gold.

That very fabric was crumpling under Erik’s hands now, and Erik pushed down the sense of unease budding within him – Charles had always looked so clean and pure, always opting for white robes in contrast to Erik’s harsh warrior’s garb. Erik knew better than to be deceived by Charles’s appearance, knowing that underneath the fluttering white silks was a hardened body, strong and powerful, encasing a mind that was even more astounding.

“Erik, stop,” Charles gritted out, glaring up at Erik now with those blue eyes of his that He had modelled after skies and oceans. Or was it that the skies and oceans of Earth were modelled after Charles’s eyes?

Charles rarely used his Gift so forcefully, but now he snapped at Erik’s mind, shielding his own from the unrelenting torrent of earthly atrocities, silencing Erik. Erik, in turn, almost winced as his mind grew cold, Charles pulling back. It felt like there was an empty space in the base of Erik’s mind, so used to having Charles’s warmth curled up there. Charles’s constant tether to Erik was not invasive – never invasive – but just a silent hum of ‘I’m here, you’re not alone’.

Now, though, Charles refused to touch Erik’s head.

“Don’t you see, Charles?” Erik urged, the gold bands around Charles’s biceps and legs humming under Erik’s gift. “The humans, they’re beyond all hope. They kill and hurt each other for greed and wrath, they’ve razed the very Earth He created with smoke and death. It has taken Him so long to see it, but the humans are inferior and need to be exterminated. Even He has lost hope, and He is right.”

Charles eyes grew glossy and wet, and Erik watched him minutely shake his head, a mere tremble. Chestnut hair which shone almost amber in the light of the Heavens shook over Charles’s eyes, obscuring them as he looked down.

“I don’t believe it,” Charles whispered, Erik’s heart hammering at Charles’s admission.

“No, Charles, don’t say that,” Erik said, almost pleading as he shook Charles again, the metal surrounding them in the Hall of Angels in Heaven screaming as Erik’s Gift unfurled, unbidden in his internal panic. ‘Charles, don’t say it. Please, stay by my side. We want the same thing.’

Charles looked up again then, tears slipping down his reddened cheeks.

“I’m sorry, my friend, but we do not,” Charles murmured, and before Erik could open his mouth to respond, to use his Gift to rivet Charles to the spot, he froze. If Erik could control his body, his eyes would have widened, but Charles held him eerily still with his power. Charles’s tears continued to flow, collecting at his chin and dripping onto the white fabric covering his torso, as he forced Erik’s fingers to loosen and drop uselessly to his side.

Erik’s heart felt something wholly unfamiliar to him, something that angels so rarely felt. But Charles, Charles who was given the gift of seeing and hearing and feeling like a human, felt all of those human emotions and more. Erik couldn’t understand it, how Charles of all people could still believe in them when he could feel all of their worst emotions and was forced to shoulder them all.

‘Charles! Charles! Don’t do this!’ Erik screamed in his mind, his body non-compliant as Charles cupped Erik’s unmoving cheeks again, giving his friend a sad, grieving smile.

“Erik,” Charles whispered, hopping onto his toes to press his lips against Erik’s forehead once. Erik felt the warmth on his skin for a moment in his frozen state, his chest doing something once again, something that ached. The warmth was soon gone, Charles taking a step back after brushing his thumb over Erik’s cheek, where a single tear had inadvertently escaped.

“Erik, just because the humans stumble and lose their way, doesn’t mean they’re lost forever,” Charles said, giving Erik one last, lingering look before turning his back.

Erik screamed in his mind, but could only watch as Charles threw himself off the clouds and out of Heaven, descending from the skies and giving up everything for those humans that did not deserve him.

Erik knew the moment Charles’s angelic powers were ripped away from him when he found himself crumpling to his knees, Charles’s hold on his mind and body burning away to nothing.

***

When Moira clocked in for the early shift at the diner at four in the morning, it had been the same as any other day. McCone had slacked off during his uneventful nightshift and left Moira plenty of dirty tables to clean up, sauce beginning to dry into concrete on the plates and flies buzzing around. It was still pitch-black outside, the only cars in the parking lot being Moira’s beat-up Chevy and Darwin’s own rust-bucket of a car.

“What time did McCone leave today?” Moira asked Darwin, who just chuckled as he pulled his apron over his head after stamping his time card.

“The moment he saw me clock in, he bolted,” Darwin replied, Moira rolling her eyes while tying up her long brown hair into a tight ponytail.

“Figures,” Moira tutted, sharing a look with Darwin, who began preparing the kitchen. Moira, on the other hand, sighed and grabbed a large grey plastic tub, shoving dirty plates and cutlery into it and hating her miserable small-town life.

Sure, Moira knew that her life was better than most, but there was always the feeling that she could be doing more than working at a diner in her tiny town that was often forgotten on maps. Moira had always been ambitious and hard-working, and while her parents had always told her that ‘there is plenty to do in our lovely town’, Moira dreamed bigger – Moira wanted to study at a big university in the city, to become someone that could help shape the world into something better.

Unfortunately, to leave town she needed money, and there weren’t many jobs available in such a backwater place – hence the unstimulating job as a waitress in the town’s only restaurant.

It was as Moira was dumping the dirty dishes into the large commercial sink that the bell at the front door clattered, followed by hasty footsteps and a shrill “Sorry I’m late!”. Moira and Darwin just shared an amused look as Sean, a wild-haired teenager, barrelled in.

“You’re eight minutes late,” Moira said, raising a brow. “That’s actually pretty good by your standards.” Darwin chuckled and slid Sean a cup of coffee, the kid taking it gratefully and downing the watery concoction in record speed.

At that, Sean shot Moira and Darwin a newly-energised grin, quickly ducking to the back to dump his bagsand coat, before sidling up to Moira in the kitchen to clean the dishes.

Even though Moira hated her job, she didn’t mind her co-workers; Darwin, the cook, was easy to get along with and made some mean pancakes, while Sean was always energetic despite the sun not having risen yet and always managed to lighten up the dreary diner.

For the next hour, the three just cranked up the radio and danced around the otherwise empty diner. No one ever really came to the diner before six, so when the bell at the door chimed when the clock hanging above the counter just hit 5:23, the three workers nearly jumped out of their skins. Darwin quickly turned down the blasting radio, Sean hopped down from the counter and Moira cleared her throat.

A young dark-skinned woman walked into the diner wearing a short black halter-neck dress and teetering heels, hugging her dark, furry maroon coat around her slender frame. Her dark hair was slightly windswept and in disarray, eyes flittering left and right with agitation, before turning to Moira warily when she approached with her usual ‘service’ smile.

“Good morning. Table for one?” Moira asked, the woman licking her plush lips before nodding stiffly. “Okay. Would you prefer the counter or a table? We’re pretty empty, so you can take your pick. I’ll bring a menu and some water to you.” Moira vaguely waved her hand around, ducking behind the counter to pour a tall glass of water, tucking a menu under her arm.

The woman glanced around at the empty diner, before moving to the booth seat in the corner. Moira slid her water across the table and handed her the menu to peruse as the door opened again. Moira was surprised at the second arrival before six – maybe this day was panning out to be vastly different from every other day.

The person that walked in was a very gruff-looking man wearing a worn-and-torn military jacket and dark-wash jeans. His face was covered with dark hair and his brows looked like they were permanently furrowed and unable to be smoothened out. He was unfamiliar to the diner’s employees, who basically new everyone who lived in their small town.

Before Moira could greet him, the man planted himself at the bar and asked for coffee, as dark as they could make it, and a breakfast with everything in a voice that was biting and brusque. Moira let out a little snort at the man’s rudeness, but jerked her head at Sean, who went and poured the man a coffee while Darwin started cooking the man’s meal.

Turning back to the girl in the booth, Moira asked if she was ready to order, relaying the order of ‘scrambled eggs and a chocolate milkshake’ to Darwin, who gave Moira a thumbs up in response.

Before Moira could put the menu back in its place, the door opened again, revealing a young blonde man wearing a white T-shirt, jeans and leather jacket, face bleak and cool. Moira glanced at the clock – 5:52am. Christ, there were too many patrons at their backwater diner far too early in the morning.

“Morning. Take a seat anywhere, be with you in a second!” Moira called out as she poured the chocolate syrup into a tall milkshake glass, the young man nodding, before sliding into the booth by the door. After serving the chocolate milkshake, Moira walked over to the newcomer with a menu while he was on his phone, seeming to scroll through photos – one of them was of him and a slightly younger boy, the two of them smiling into the camera. Moira internally sighed at how different the man’s expression was as he sat there, desolate and weary, in the diner booth.

“Order when you’re ready,” Moira said, the man shutting off his phone and giving Moira a small smile.

Even though the morning was more lively than usual, Moira, Sean and Darwin got into the swing of things like always. It was at 6:15, when the three early patrons were all munching on their eggs and bacon, that the door opened, revealing someone that was familiar to the diner’s employees.

“Raven!” Moira said, hugging the blonde girl with a wide smile on her face. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be coming in to work!”

Raven gave Moira a sheepish smile, instinctively rubbing at her swollen and pregnant belly. Raven was 9 months pregnant now, and due to pop at any given moment, which was why she had recently taken time off work.

“I know, I know,” Raven said, bumping Sean’s fist as he leaned over the counter before Moira ushered Raven to sit down in one of the empty booths, the young woman letting out a relieved ‘phew’ when she sunk into the peeling red faux-leather. “I’m not here to work, I promise. The kid just really craved Darwin’s pancakes.”

Raven fondly tapped her belly, Moira laughing.

“Right, one serve of Darwin’s pancakes coming right up. And let me guess… a strawberry shake?”

“With extra ice-cream,” Raven said, Moira smiling.

“Sure thing.”

A few more minutes ticked by, and the door opened again, revealing another familiar face.

“Heya, Hank,” Sean said, waving at the tall and lanky man, who nodded his head with a shy smile, pushing his bulky glasses higher up onto his nose. Hank scanned the diner, and when he saw the back of Raven’s fluffy blonde head, turned a shade of scarlet that made Sean snicker and Moira stifle a chuckle. Sean, Hank and Raven had all gone to high-school together, and it had been obvious even then that Hank was nursing a hefty crush on Raven.

Unfortunately, Hank never acted on his crush, since he was of the notion that Raven – popular, beautiful and charismatic Raven – was out of his league. Hank was, quite simply, a geek, and had always been most comfortable in a lab or the library, while Raven was a cheerleader who also dabbled in the school’s volleyball team. Hank would never confess his affections to someone like Raven, and especially not now that she was, as the whole town knew, ‘knocked up’.

Raven’s pregnancy at a freshly ripened age of 19 had been gossip-fodder for the majority of her time being pregnant; after embarking on a road trip after graduating highschool, Raven had returned pregnant. People had tried to find out who the father was, but Raven had kept silent about it. Of course, with silence came rumours, and unfortunately lots of Raven’s so-called ‘friends’ had abandoned her in her time of crisis.

Raven, though, was stronger than anyone Hank knew, and this only made him love her more. Hank, even though he wasn’t the baby’s father and not even the object of Raven’s affections, wanted nothing more than to help her.

When Hank approached Raven’s table, the blonde smiling at him and kicking at the seat opposite her, Hank’s heart was alight.

“Hey Hank,” Raven chirped, the boy blushing and murmuring a small ‘hi’ in response. “It’s a nice morning, isn’t it?” At that, Raven looked outside at the sky that was strangely clear and devoid of any clouds, the sun beginning to rise over the distant mountains.

“Yeah, it’s a nice day,” Hank said, not looking outside but at Raven instead, soft smile on his face as the sunlight made her hair gleam more golden than usual, a halo around her beautiful face.

But oh, how wrong they were. This was not a nice day.

In fact, it was the dawn of the Apocalypse.

***

When Charles landed, he landed hard. Charles coughed out a pained breath when he collided with the dirt, dust pluming out from the crater his descent had etched into the earth. Spluttering a little, Charles waited for the dust to settle before pushing himself up to a kneeling position, groaning as pain lanced throughout his entire body.

Charles’s mind felt like it was splitting, like a hand – His hand – had reached in and rearranged everything, pulling out something integral. His Gift.

It had been a long time since the world had been so silent for Charles, and it unnerved him. Charles knew that this would happen, of course – he had blatantly disobeyed His will, so of course He would take away the gifts He had bestowed upon Charles when the angel was created.

The stabbing pain in Charles’s head soon ebbed away as his mind found its bearings, but that only gave way to another searing pain that splayed out from Charles’s back. Charles let out a sobbing breath as the pain in his back made him lurch forward, head hanging down as his arms propped him up, shaking.

Carefully, Charles bit on his lip, reaching back over his shoulder to probe at his back. Charles whimpered when his fingers met a jagged lump by his shoulder blades, and without seeing his back Charles knew what it would look like.

“Oh,” Charles croaked, pulling his fingers back from the stump of his wing, blood already crusted over. Charles shuddered, breathing erratic as his mind whirled. The angel – fallen angel, now – hunched over and hugged himself, struggling to catch his breath.

‘You knew what would happen. You knew, Charles, and you made your decision. This is necessary, this is needed. You have to stand up now,’ Charles told himself, wiping away the dirt and tears from his face, picking himself up from the ground. It was only then that he realised he was completed nude, his white and gold attire having been ripped to shreds in his descent.

Charles, of all the angels, was the most fond of the humans and Earth. Erik had always thought his infatuation with them ridiculous, even if a millennium ago he had only said those words with a small, fond smile on his face. Now, though, Charles could just see the hurt, disapproval and betrayal etched across Erik’s stoic face when Charles, in the end, chose the humans. The smarting sores on Charles’s back was a physical reminder of that. His wingless form was a reminder that he had forsaken God and the other angels – forsaken Erik – for the humans.

Even though his decision pained Charles, he did not regret it, because Charles believed. Charles, who had been given the Gift of peering into the souls of the beings that God had so cherished, until his faith had supposedly wavered. Yes, Charles knew of their pain, of their suffering, of their most vile potential. The images Erik had pushed at him in a final effort to change his mind were not new to the fallen angel. Charles knew of all of the evil in the world – felt it – but he knew the other side of the coin as well.

Charles knew about all the good in the world.

Charles, who could connect with all the minds on Earth, knew of the good there as well, just lying dormant and waiting. Unlike all of the other angels, who could only watch the humans with detached eyes, Charles could feel them. Charles knew what happiness felt like, what trust and hope and love felt inside a beating heart. Charles knew how it felt to be hugged by a mother, how it felt to see your child for the first time. Charles knew how it felt to laugh with friends until you all cried, Charles knew how it felt to hold the person you loved for the first time.

Charles also knew what loved felt like. What falling in love felt like.

That feeling was not discovered second hand like all of the others. No, that was a feeling born solely from Charles’s very being.

Charles grit his teeth and clutched at his chest that was full of Erik, but also full of hope.

Charles had a mission to complete, a mission that made him an enemy of all of Heaven, so he had to move quick.

That was why Charles trudged across the desert he landed in, naked like a newborn babe, to the town that was destined to be the beginning of the end – unless Charles found a way to stop it.

***

The pretty dark-haired girl in the corner booth had long-since finished her meal and milkshake, but was now sipping on a lukewarm coffee while glancing out of the window sketchily, like she was keeping an eye out for something or someone chasing her. The gruff man at the counter has since ordered a third plate of scrambled eggs, sausages and bacon while scoffing down his second helping of Darwin’s pancakes – Moira had noticed that he had added a hefty dose of what looked like whiskey into his coffee as well, the drink tucked away in a silver flash by his breast.

The young blonde man had locked himself in the bathroom for the past twenty minutes, and Moira could hear a heated conversation between him and child services, the boy hissing something muffled about a younger brother. The other boy in the picture, Moira supposed.

Hank and Raven had been chatting away in the middle booth, or at least, Raven had. Raven had regaled the entire diner about how her unborn child was going to be the most badass child the world has ever seen, and had been scrolling through her phone with a litany of potential baby names. Hank had just listened, soft smile on his face, only occasionally piping in with a ‘that’s a nice name’ or ‘what does that name mean?’. Hank spoke more when Raven asked him about the medical side of things, since Hank was studying pre-med (though he was already working his way through the medicine course on his own time, his intelligence leagues ahead of his age).

It was during a quiet lull in their conversation that the diner was plunged into silence again, the radio playing 80s hits suddenly cutting off with static. Darwin sighed, wiping his hands on his apron to knock his fist on the radio a few times, brute force usually fixing the issue. Strangely, the radio remained plunged in static, and Darwin frowned, trying to change the station to no avail.

Raven turned her head outside, a sense of unease washing over her as she noticed thick grey clouds rolling in, blanketing the sun in a shroud of darkness.

“Huh, looks like the nice weather from this morning is gone,” Raven mused, rubbing absentmindedly at her belly, the child kicking erratically. “Katie doesn’t like bad weather.”

“Katie?” Hank asked, Raven laughing a little.

“If she’s a girl,” Raven said, Hank smiling. “Well, Katherine – but I’d call her Katie. Ooh, or Kitty. Kitty is a cute name for a girl.”

“It is,” Hank said, head lolling to the side as he swooned at Raven’s round-cheeked elation. Raven opened her mouth to say something – likely about to begin spewing out boys’ names – when the girl in the corner booth swore loudly.

“Fuck! He found me,” the woman hissed, ducking down from the window with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Moira asked, the girl dropping to the floor, like she was about to climb under the table.

“No! He found me!” the woman hissed again, voice panicked. “Fuck! How the hell did he find me so quickly?!”

Moira frowned, looking outside; a sleek black sedan with heavily tinted windows had pulled up, and a well-built man in a striped 3-piece suit stepped out of it, imposing and severely out of place in the parking lot of their ramshackle diner. Taking in the girl who was trembling in her dress, scrabbling at her fraying coat, Moira frowned further. Clearly, that guy was bad news if he could make this girl so terrified.

“Hey, follow me,” Moira said, ushering the girl behind the counter and to the back of the diner. The girl did not hesitate to follow Moira, who let her into the small staff room that had sometime turned into a store room, packed floor to ceiling with boxes. “Stay here and wait until that guy’s gone. Don’t come out until I get you.”

“Thank you, God, thank you so much,” the girl said, rubbing at her eyes and smudging her heavy eyeliner. “He’s… He’s bad news.”

“What did he do?” Moira asked, the girl blanching a little, making Moira give her a reassuring look. “I don’t mean to pry, I just think it’ll help if I know what I’m trying to kick out of the diner.”

The girl snorted out a laugh, though it wasn’t amused in the slightest.

“He’s my step-father,” the girl said, disgust and fear written all over her face. “He… He’s involved in prostitution, and…”

The girl gestured to herself, eyes growing dark. Moira’s heart bled.

“I was one of the girls he used to pimp out, but as one of the older ones he was harsher with me. I didn’t mind it, since that usually meant he didn’t hurt the younger girls as much, but he went too far. So I… I retaliated. I burned down his office and stole all of the cash he had been hoarding, giving it to the girls so they could get away from there. I ran too, obviously – but he found me,” the girl said, biting her lower lip.

“Well, shit,” Moira breathed out, cursing. “If that’s the case, then you’re definitely staying in here. Seriously, don’t come out until I let you know it’s all clear.”

“Thank you so much,” the girl said, giving Moira a watery smile. “My name’s Angel, by the way.”

“Moira,” the brown-haired woman said, flicking at the name badge pinned to the front of her ghastly yellow and blue diner uniform, smiling. “Alrighty, time to deal with a scumbag.”

Moira closed the door behind her after putting her finger to her lips in a final ‘be quiet’ motion to Angel, heading back to the front of the house. Angel’s step-father was currently leaning against the counter, hand slapping down as he snapped at Darwin and Sean.

“I know she’s here!” the man seethed, Sean’s eyes wide while Darwin remained calm as always, stepping out of the kitchen and placing a comforting hand on Sean’s shoulder.

“Sir, who are you looking for?” Darwin asked, the man’s face pulling back with a sneer. Moira smiled a little at Darwin’s perceptiveness – he had clearly gotten the general gist of the situation, and though he didn’t know the details, he had recognised that this guy was bad news and on the hunt for the terrified woman Moira had ushered to the back just moments before.

“Black, tall, skinny, pretty with long dark hair. She should be dressed like a whore,” the man said, Moira bristling. Ugh, pig.

“Sorry, Sir,” Moira said, sidling up with a deceiving sweet smile, the one she used to serve entitled customers that sometimes stumbled into their humble diner. “No one fitting that description has come to our diner, we’d know. As you can see, we don’t usually get many patrons, especially not so early in the morning.”

“Don’t lie to me, woman,” the man spat, jerking a fat finger at Moira’s face, saliva spraying. The man then slammed his hand down on the counter again, the plates clattering.

“Excuse me, Sir, but we don’t tolerate violence in our establishment. If you continue this behaviour, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” Darwin said carefully, the pimp’s face going bright red, hand rising to slam back down on the counter.

Before he could, though, there was suddenly a loud ‘whack’, the pimp crumpling to the ground, knocked out cold.

“What the hell?!” Sean exclaimed, watching everything unfold with wide eyes. The other diners – the blonde boy, Hank and Raven – all watched in shock as well, eyes flittering from the pimp on the ground to the person looming over him.

Standing over him was the gruff bearded man wearing the army jacket sitting that had been at the counter. He rubbed at his knuckles, which had just a second ago made contact with the pimp’s jaw, sending him dropping like a sack of flour.

“Tsk, one punch and he’s already out? Pathetic,” the man grumbled, trudging back to his seat and shovelling some eggs into his mouth, chewing.

“What the hell just happened?” Moira exclaimed, rushing over to the unconscious pimp, checking for a pulse. He was still alive (barely), but it was obvious that his nose was broken and oozing a crimson puddle on Moira’s freshly scrubbed floors. Getting up, Moira glared at the man sitting at the counter who was eating his breakfast like he hadn’t just knocked a man out. “You just assaulted him!”

“He deserved it,” the man shrugged callously. “He was obviously an asshole.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can just go assaulting him! He’s unconscious!”

“Yeah, but now he’s not a problem,” the man said, cracking a grin that was a little feral. “You can thank me with another cup of coffee.”

“Oh, Christ,” Moira groaned, looking at Darwin. “Darwin, call an ambulance or something. And Sean, can you get this guy over to the corner, or one of the booths?”

Sean looked like he would honestly rather do anything else, which Moira thought was understandable - the kid hadn’t taken the dishwashing job to lug around fully-grown unconscious pieces of shit, but this was a strange day.

When the man – still unconscious – was tucked away in the corner, Moira went back to Angel, who jumped when Moira opened the door.

“Is he gone?” Angel asked quickly, Moira biting her lip.

“Uh, well, that’s one way to put it?” Moira offered, Angel giving her a confused look. “You can see for yourself.”

The two women walked out, and Angel gasped when she saw her step-father slumped on the floor, blood oozing from his broken nose.

“Who did that!?” Angel asked, eyes wide. The offender snorted, waving a hand briefly. Angel, still a little shell-shocked, pushed out an incredulous laugh. “Well, thanks. I only expected him to get kicked out, not… knocked out.”

“He seemed like he deserved it,” the bearded man said, Angel laughing.

“Yeah, he did,” she said softly, walking over to the man at the counter. “I’m Angel. I don’t really know how to repay you, but I could buy you another coffee?”

“Logan,” the man grunted, pushing his empty mug of coffee across the counter. “And you can thank me by buying me two.”

“Deal,” Angel said, beaming as she waved Moira over, who was exasperated by their disregard for the fact that there was a man bleeding all over her floor.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Moira grumbled, just as Darwin hung up the corded phone mounted on the wall.

“Hey, the landline seems to be down,” Darwin said, Moira throwing her hands up in frustration.

“Just another thing to worry about! It’s clearly not enough that we have an unconscious pimp on the floor!”

“Hey, my cellphone isn’t working either. Like, there’s no signal,” Sean said, tapping at his phone with a frown on his face.

“Huh, weird – I’m not getting any cell service either,” Raven said, leaning over to see if Hank had any. His phone had zero bars as well.

“Is it because of the storm that’s starting outside?” Moira asked after checking her own phone, which wasn’t any better. Everyone looked outside at Moira’s comment, the sky now completely dark – it was only 6:45 in the morning, but it felt more like the dead of the night. In the gaps in the clouds was an odd silvery sheen, like constant, noiseless lightning, which cast disconcerting shadows across the barren desert outside of the diner.

“It’s just clouds, there’s no rain or thunder that would disrupt all the cell towers, let alone the land line,” Hank said, fiddling with his phone.

“Hey, Sean, do you want to make a quick run to the sheriff? Ask what’s going on?” Moira said, Sean nodding and pulling off his apron. As the boy headed to the door, he had to pass by the unconscious pimp, who suddenly jerked, making Sean scream shrilly.

“The hell, dude?!” Sean screeched, jumping back. The pimp’s eyes flickered open, Angel’s mouth opening in a silent, terrified scream, scuttling back behind the counter. Logan narrowed his eyes at the pimp, who was picking himself up from the floor sluggishly, head hanging low.

The pimp’s head then snapped up abruptly, eyes glassy. His gaze flittered across the diner, looking at Logan, then Darwin, then Moira, Sean and Angel – Angel tensed, about to run, but strangely, her step-father looked right past her. His eyes flitted to the blonde boy by the door, then Hank, and then…

When the man’s eyes fixed onto Raven, the girl bristling and cradling her baby bump instinctively, the man smiled, showing teeth reddened with blood.

The pimp suddenly lunged forward at Raven, who screamed. Hank also yelled, tripping out of the booth to block the man’s path, but the pimp was suddenly on the ground again when Logan kicked out his leg, landing a blow to the pimp’s side.

The man flailed to the ground, limbs flying and an odd screeching sound erupting from his throat.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Angel asked, trembling. “He… He didn’t even see me. Recognise me.”

“And why did he run after me?!” Raven yelled, gripping onto Hank’s arm, the lanky boy’s mouth pressed in a tight line, hands balled into fists.

“Guess my first punch knocked his brain loose,” Logan said, smirking. Everyone just gave Logan an odd look, but couldn’t say anything when the pimp on the ground suddenly jerked again, spasming. Logan looked a little surprised, staring at the man writhing on the ground. “Jesus, he’s pretty sturdy. That should’ve knocked him out cold.”

The pimp suddenly twisted onto his back, arms bending and bending and bending… until his tendons snaps and joints dislodged. Everyone watched, horrified, as the man’s legs did the same, contorting into something that was definitely not normal.

“Oh my God, what the fuck?!” Sean said, grabbing a frying pan hanging on the wall and holding it up like a bat. “Is the dude possessed?! Arms aren’t supposed to bend like that!”

As Sean spoke, the man whirled around, eyes staring at Raven with fixed focus. The man scuttled forward on all fours, making everyone except Darwin and Logan scream – the latter darted forward, kicking the pimp again, sending him crashing against the wall.

But, just as everyone thought that things would quieten, they only got worse – the moment the pimp hit the wall, he began climbing up it on all fours, nails digging in and leaving bloody indentations into the wall as he climbed like a spider up the off-white plaster.

“The Exorcist! This is the fucking Exorcist! The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!” Sean shrieked, waving his frying pan in the air frantically.

“Oh my God!” Moira cried out as Raven screamed, hauled to her feet by Hank and tugging her behind him.

“What the fuck is in your coffee?!” the blonde man hollered, grabbing his empty plate and smashing it over the pimp’s head as he – it – leapt off the wall and landed on his table. The young man let out a yell as he punched the pimp in the face, grunting in pain as his hand collided, the pimp’s head snapping to the side with the motion, but otherwise unphased. The blonde boy’s eyes widened then the pimp’s mouth pulled into a smile.

“Oh, shit!” the boy yelled as the demonically possessed pimp shot forward, knocking him onto the ground before aiming for Raven again.

“Someone get him!” Raven yelled, hugging her pregnant belly as Hank pushed her back behind the counter, grabbing the frying pan from Sean and slamming it against the pimp’s face, the collision of metal and bone echoing around the diner.

“Help me hold him down!” Logan yelled, slamming his burly body down onto the screeching demon-man, struggling to keep him down alone. “Hey! You guys, get the hell over here!”

The blonde man reacted first, sliding on his knees and grabbing onto the pimp’s arm, almost throwing up when he could feel the pimp’s joints bending backwards. Hank dropped down as well, grabbing a leg while Darwin seized the other one.

 “Someone knock him out!” Logan barked out, Angel suddenly running into the kitchen and grabbing a heavy cast-iron griddle, raising it above her head with something that resembled a war cry and slamming it down on her step-father’s head.

Thunk.

The demonic man stopped writhing, the three men holding him down not releasing him immediately, but only after he had stopped thrashing for a whole minute. Getting up from the ground, Hank was shaking, while Darwin had a deep frown etched on his face and Logan took a hefty swig from his beat-up flask.

When he swallowed, Logan pat the mysterious blonde boy on the back.

“Nice punch earlier, kid,” Logan said, the blonde man huffing.

“My name’s Alex, not kid.”

“Sure, whatever you say, kid,” Logan said, taking another drink as Moira leaned on the counter to steady herself.

“What the hell was that thing?” Moira asked as Raven sobbed, burying herself into Hank’s chest, the man freezing in surprise before tentatively wrapping his arms around the blonde girl.

“It would be more accurate to ask ‘what the Heaven was that thing’, my dear.”

Everyone turned, startled, to the voice that came from across the room. Standing in front of the door was an unfamiliar man that was, truly, beauty incarnate. Milky skin awash with a light smattering of freckles like constellations, sinful red lips, azure eyes and silken brown hair. He wore a slightly tight lilac V-neck sweater covered with a grey tweed coat and matching grey trousers. Strangely, his feet were bare.

From where they stood, they could see that the man was on the shorter side, but something about him filled up the entire room.

“Another weirdo?” Alex muttered, the newcomer’s lips quirking up slightly, seemingly amused. The man stepped across the floor, skirting around the small pool of blood where Logan had broken the pimp’s nose the first time, hopping lightly over the shards of the plate Alex had smashed earlier.

“I’d step away from him, if I were you,” the man said, voice lilting with a thick English accent, and despite being so soft and gentle, its weight made everyone – even Logan – jump away from the man on the ground. Just as they did so, the demon twitched, Raven screaming again.

“The hell, he’s still not down?!” Sean yelled, the man wearing the lilac sweater letting out a short sigh, reaching behind him to pull out a hand gun, pointing it down at the demon at his feet.

“What are you doing, Charles?” the demon man spoke, voice trilling, inhuman. “These weren’t your orders.”

“I’m sorry, Brother,” the man said solemnly, before pulling the trigger. Red sprayed everywhere – across the floor, up against the walls, on Logan’s shoes. Raven seemed to stop breathing, swaying on her feet and Hank letting out a strangled noise as he caught her in his arms. Moira’s mouth was wide opened, mind static like the radio, and Sean had fallen onto his ass in shock. Darwin stared silently at the scene unfolding before him, Alex cursing loudly and staggering back, while Logan just looked at the seemingly demure man with narrowed eyes.

Logan had killed men before, many of them, in fact. He had killed men in warzones from a distance with his rifles, and had felt the life bleed out of some of them when he strangled their necks. Logan was used to killing, and he knew what a killer looked like.

How strange was it, then, that when he looked at the man before him, he didn’t have the stink of a murderer?

In fact, the man looked all too pure in the way he held himself. Untainted, even if his hand was on a smoking gun and a little blood has splashed onto his bare feet. The man’s blue eyes shone with tears, but not of fear, regret or anger.

No, he was a man that looked like he was grieving.

“You just killed a man!” Moira suddenly said, rushing to the phone that didn’t even work, punching in 911 over and over.

“I assure you, Moira, that he was not a man. At least, not now,” the man holding the gun said calmly, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants.

“You know my name,” Moira said, eyes wide. The barefooted man just smiled, tilting his head in what looked like a greeting nod.

“Yes, I know all of your names, actually,” the man said, turning to Logan. “You’re James Howlett, or I suppose you prefer Logan. And you’re Alexander Summers, Sean Cassidy, Henry – or Hank – McCoy, Angel Salvadore, Armando Muñoz and… Raven Darkholme.” The man’s voice softened as he spoke the last girl’s name, looking a little wistful.

“Are you a spy or something?” Sean asked, spluttering. “Or psychic?!” The mystery man chuckled a little, shaking his head.

“No,” Charles said, clasping his hands in front of him, eyes closing for a moment, before opening them again. “And I’ll explain everything, but we have to deal with them first.”

“Them?” Darwin asked, Charles turning to the window.

“Oh, please tell me he doesn’t have friends,” Angel said, grimacing at the body of her dead step-father.

“No, not friends,” Charles said, giving her a sad look. “Brothers and Sisters.”

Next chapter (2/4) → 

[thorne93]

United We Stand (Part 1)

Prompt: This was inspired by 2 imagines! Reader and Raven have a sordid past that Charles is always caught in the middle of.

Pairing: Charles X Reader

Warnings: language, hostility, violence, angst,

Word Count: 1203

Notes: This is based around X-Men Apocalypse. The imagines were combined: Imagine instead of Jean, you went into Charles’s mind to fight Apocalypse for him. “Y/N! Please! I need you!” & Imagine having powers like Scarlet Witch and Charles being VERY interested in them. @marvel-imagines-marvel-fandoms

Also was beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @amarvelouswritings

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Charles, why didn’t she recognize me, she knew me in this form,” Raven questioned as Moira, Hank, and Alex left the room.

“Well after you left me on the beach in Cuba, I took her memories of that time. Have a seat,” Charles offered to her as you stood behind his desk. When he wheeled in front of you, you put your hand on his shoulder.

“Lucky girl,” Raven commented, her blood boiling. Before she had left with Erik on the beach in Cuba, you had been good friends- in fact, you’d go as far to say you were best friends. You’d dated Charles for five years when all of the havoc with Erik and Shaw broke out. But when she left, when she broke Charles heart, you hated her. Your relationship had forever been altered with her.

“It’s good to see you Raven. Welcome home,” Charles said warmly.

“This isn’t my home,” she spat.

Instantly, your insides boiled and you saw red. “How dare you?” you questioned, your hand leaving Charles’s shoulder as you stepped forward. “How dare you say that to him? He was nothing but kind to you.”

“Y/N,” Charles chastised, making you stop your attack. Redirecting his attention back to Raven, he softly reminded, “It was once.”

“No, it was your home, I just lived here. I barely even recognize it now,” she noted, her eyes scanning the room around her as if she was trying to take in the environment to find a shred of familiarity. Her words cut you deeply, as this was the home you’d made with Charles. The gifted youngsters like your children.

“Well maybe if you came by more than when things were going wrong,” you argued.

“Oh, screw you!” Raven spat as she stood up.

Stepping toward her, you raised your hand, your mystic energy streaming around your fingertips. Getting almost nose to nose with her, you began challenging each other physically.

“Bring it on, freak,” Raven invited, her arms out. “You’ll be on the ground before you can even cast your first wave.”

“Yeah? Wanna bet, bitch?”

“Ladies!” Charles almost shouted. “Stop…”

Lowering your hand and your glare lessening, you backed up.

“You know we have plans for this place,” Charles tried, changing the subject. “I mean to turn it into a real campus, a university, not just for mutants either, for humans too, living and working, growing together.”

“You know I really believed that once. I really believed we could change them after D.C,” Raven said, the disdain and disappointment so thick in her voice. You could see it in her face too, you might have been on rocky ground with Raven for the better part of two centuries but you still knew her. Her eyes had lost their hope, their innocence….Or at least they were far out of grasp for her.

“We did,” Charles insisted.

“No, Charles they just hate and fear us. It’s just harder to see because they're more polite about it,” Raven chided, rolling her head to enforce the absurd idea to her that mutants and humans can get along. “I got sick of living that way.”

“That's why you’re not in your natural blue form.”

Anger still bubbling inside you, you blurted, “When you’ve left us, you always say ‘Mutant and Proud’, yet here you are, hiding in the shadows.”

“Not gonna be the face of a world that doesn't exist.” Her gaze danced between you and Charles.

“Things are better the world is better,” he tried.

“Maybe in Westchester. Out there mutants are still running, hiding, living in fear. Just because there's not a  war doesn't mean there’s peace,” she argued, her own anger surfacing even more.

“We’ll we wouldn't have a war if it wasn’t for you and Erik!” you shouted.

“Oh, excuse me for fighting for mutants rights!” Raven spat at you as she stepped toward you.

“Mutants rights? All you and Erik ever did was make things worse!”

“Y/N, please,” Charles quietly begged from his wheelchair across the room.

“The way I hear it, the kids here look up to me, because I took a stand. Do they even look up to you at all, Y/N?” she challenged, stepping forward, her tone low. “Or do they tolerate you because you’re banging the professor?”

Your hand came up quickly, the magic manifesting in a red stream again, hovering, snaking through your fingers.

Raven just ignored your threat though and turned her attention back to Charles. “You wanna teach your kids something, teach them that, teach them to fight. Otherwise they might as well live in this house for the rest of their lives.”

“You still sound just like him. You sound just like Erik,” Charles said, his voice almost breaking as the frustration and hurt came surfacing.

“That’s why i'm here. He’s resurfaced. He had a wife and a child that were killed. Along with a handful of policeman,” she explained.

Scoffing, you threw your hands in the air and retorted, “Typical! Are you ever here when you’re not in trouble.

“Y/N,” Charles said one last time. He loved you both and it tore him apart to watch you fight. You knew this, but that didn’t change that you could stand by while the woman who broke his heart was disrespectful, hateful, and mean. After a thoughtful moment, he said, “The whole world will be looking for him.”

“But you can help me find him before they do,” Raven informed.

------------------------

Hank took Raven to clean up as you stayed and talked with Charles.

“Charles, I know what Raven means to you...I know that I’ll never mean more to you than her, and that’s fine...But why do you let that charity case treat you like that?” you demanded, exasperated. One thing you absolutely adored about him was his compassion and diplomacy, and you often had that yourself, but with Raven, she had no right to come ask for his help, in his home, and insult him like she did.

His face distorted into anger, his blue eyes churning into a darker color. “Don’t call her that. She was not a charity case.”

“Well what do you call someone who only comes around when she needs something? Charles, she grew up here, she grew up with you, and she has the audacity to say that this wasn’t her home…”

“She’s always been trying, you know that,” he simply said. “She’s just trying to fight in a world that doesn’t want her to fight.”

“So she takes that out on the one man who’s always been there for her?” you questioned, flabbergasted. Nothing he could say would make this okay in your mind. When he was shot, lying paralyzed on the beach, it wasn’t her and Erik that were there to help, it was you and Hank. Where was Raven when he spiraled into a drunken frenzy? Where was Raven when he had to cope with being paralyzed? Where was Raven when the voices became too much?

“I’m not going to fight about this Y/N, she’s family and I’m going to help her.”

With that, he wheeled out of the room, one final frustrated look at you.

[if-weshadows-haveoffended]

Needles and Pins- Charles Xavier x Reader

Needles and Pins (prompt) Words:1,197 Rating: T Warnings: None Ship: Charles Xavier x Female Reader Note: Sorry for the delay, I re-wrote this like twice :(

The darkened halls of the mansion felt hauntingly empty, every movement of curtains a taunting whisper at the failure of the X-men. It always had ever since they- Raven, Erik, Angel, Azazel, Darwin, Moira-

They’d all left you here. Well, not entirely alone. Hank still kept Charles some company, as did you. Alex had returned home after a few years to take care of his baby brother. And Moira was of course currently unaware of anyone’s existence.

And failure? You refused to let the X-men be a failure, no, it just wasn’t ready. Not when you were fighting a cold war rather than other mutants. One ideology had to come before the other. The Hellfire club failed just as you had, and you’d watched Charles sink further and further into himself, remaining silent and remaining as if he’d had the entire world on his shoulders.

And of course mutants were slowly disappearing. Whether or not Charles cared, he never let on. But surely Charles knew Azazel of all people wouldn’t just vanish oh so silently. It wasn’t his style.

Your Quant sandals stepped over chess-like tiles, joining the forlorn professor sitting alone on his now permanent wheelchair as he faced away, towards the dark gardens. You sat beside the wheels of his chair and crossed your legs beneath your mini-skirt, glancing up to see glistening tear tracks down the side of his handsome cheeks.

“Moping isn’t going to do anything, Prof,” You quipped with a smile, but the mutant in question merely scoffed and turned his head away from you, boyish face uncharacteristically grim as he wiped away tears. Whatever happened to the feckless playboy you’d all become unhealthily fond of?

“Why are you still here, y/n? You had a career,” He responded, tiredly.

“I am also a woman, which makes anything beyond a secretary impossible I’m afraid.” You laughed bitterly, inching closer to him. What unnerved you more was that you knew Charles knew you had to be lying. Surely he wasn’t that thick? Or perhaps he was just too caught up in his own thoughts to peruse through yours. “Anyway, I thought we established that annoying you to death was my job?”

“Not if I fired you,”

“Harsh Charlie, really harsh.” You muttered.

“You know I hate that,” He interrupted with a small glare, his mouth however now trying to fight a small quirk upwards at the corners.

“Yes, yes alright,”

‘What about Chuck?’ Your mind supplemented with a small giggle.

‘Don’t be so obscene.’ Charles’ stern voice entered your mind.

“Anyway, you should get to sleep. I’m simply being an idiot.” Charles’ warm fingers gently reached for yours as they rested upon his armrest. You certainly weren’t a mind reader, but years of experience in your admittedly short life told you that lingering touches usually meant a desire for you to stay.

“Charles, my dear, you’re not an idiot until you’ve had one too many cocktails and you cry for a solid forty minutes because you realise snakes are just heads with a tail.” You grinned in triumph, warmth spreading through your chest as you watched Charles try and fail to suppress a sudden exhale of quiet laughter, smothering his grin with a free hand.

“And that time I accidentally nearly became an accessory to crime because my inebriated self thought that I could rob a bank with only myself, a half-empty lipstick tube and one shoe on.” You reminisced with a slight shudder, “Then of course, that occasion in which I somehow found myself in the same bed as this bastard called Robert Redford and a box full of hedgehogs.”

“Hedgehogs?” Charles choked out in between silent laughter that seemed to force all the air out of him.

“They’re not even native here, I know.” You widened your eyes a little in horror of remembering. “I’ve done everything you could possibly do when drunk; from dancing with the attractive teachers’ aid of my archaeology class to climbing on top of the church roof to impress my crush.”

“You’re certainly an adventuress, y/n,” Charles admitted, wiping away a tear. But you smiled, knowing it was at least a happy one.

“Only when drunk, Carlos,” You grinned, unfolding your legs and beginning to stand up. Your job seemed done, Charles seemed much more calm and content.

“Anyway, the only potential drunken mistake I haven’t made was agreeing to whatever it was you said to me when I joined,” You mused with a grin before bending down a little and pressing a small kiss to the smiling corner of Charles’ lips. You couldn’t help but blush just a little at the deepening grin upon his face, and you instinctively brushed a strand of chestnut hair from his eyes.

“Besides, I should be going now,” You added, beginning to retreat at a slightly quickened pace, hoping it wasn’t too awkward.

“Y/n,” Charles called, turning his wheelchair to face you.

“Yes?”

“Do you remember what you said that night? When you agreed?”

“I thought we established I was drunk, Carlos-“

“Just because I excused ‘Carlos’ once, doesn’t mean I condone it,” He warned, “No, but do you remember what you said? Or did?”

You tilted your head in confusion, remembering the haze of a party and a Marvelettes record in the distance. Charles seemed confused at you and you simply shrugged, truthfully unable to remember what happened except for the sudden fluttering of your heart at the charming English accent and the handsome professor that accompanied it.

“I think you might have bought me a drink,” You answered slowly. “I’m sorry Charles, I don’t know.” With that he let you return back to the mansion.

“Was it terrible?” You hesitated in your steps and called back to Charles.

“No, no nothing like that. It was rather wonderful actually,”

You refused to know more and continued back through the darkened threshold.

Somewhere in New York, 1961

“And so, it would be wonderful if you joined,” Charles finished, laughing at the bright young woman as she finished her cocktail in a single go and held out her hand.

“I’m fucking game,” She grinned, eyes twinkling under the golden lights of the bar. Charles took her hand, delighted to have such a witty mutant on their team. It was a fresh change to that Logan bastard who turned them down a night ago. “One more thing, professor,”

“Yes?” Charles answered, excited and expectant, alcohol buzzing pleasantly in his head.

He hadn’t expected her to grab his coat lapel and press soft lips against his, unable to help himself as hands wrapped around her waist, moving to rest at her waist as she deepened her kiss.  The bar roared into cheerful shouts and wolf-whistles and he could feel her grinning. He couldn’t even probe her mind, too busy simply enjoying the sensation building up in his chest and the fingers playing with hair at the nape of his neck. Y/n pulled away after a beat and with a wink gathered up her purse, exiting the bar as quickly as she’d entered his life, but not before collecting what looked like a tuxedo-wearing ferret from a gentleman sitting at a booth.

Charles Xavier knew he was fucked.

Songs used: Needles and Pins, Please Mr Postman