Mind & Emotion

[Lana Kane]

He spoke of how his telepathy might be part of why it was hard to shield from him, "Yeah, I might go try it on some normal mutants," She teased, not making it negatively, even though she had made her opinion clear that they were the freaks of the mutant race. "Same time." She agreed, before getting up and walking tot he door. Pausing there, she looked back at him, "Unless you get bored and feel like a bath." As she didn't figure he'd blush this time--which was disappointing--Lana didn't wait for a reply.

From their she went to check out the dining hall, which held a much, much smaller crowd so she went in. Old habits had her putting some of the food in her pocket for later, before going to her room. Once their she dropped back on her bed and tried to block out the emotions of the teens on the floor . . . and bloody hell they were a trip she didn't always enjoy. After a few hours of failing she begin to get a headache, so she really did go to take a bath. At one point, she sank back and dunked her head under the water. Sometimes that helped block everything out because----BLOCKED EVERYTHING OUT! Pushing from the water, Lana gasped in for breath and closed her eyes. Putting herself back under the water mentally, rather then physically she tried blocking. It almost worked. She could just get them out enough to not mix it with her own emotions, but not enough that she couldn't feel them! It was an insane effort, but she was doing it!!

"Oh shite!" She muttered, knowing he couldn't head her, as she scrambled from the bath (even slipping slightly on the floor) before reaching for her clothes. She had to find Xavier. She had to test this out before she lost it.

[x]

“Yeah, I might go try it on some normal mutants,” Lana teased before agreeing to tomorrow’s meeting. She got up and headed toward the door, and Charles only got a small hint of warning before she teased again.

“Unless you get bored and feel like a bath.” Charles didn’t even get a chance to respond before she left the room. Just as well; he wasn’t quite up to dealing with such teasing any more. Talking about Raven and Erik had reopened wounds that hadn’t quite healed properly anyway.

He sighed and rubbed his temples before removing the extra shielding he’d put in place earlier. It had been well over a year since he’d seen them—nearly two years, come to think of it. Really, he should have gotten over all of it by now. And yet...

“You promised me you’d never read my mind.”

“We want the same things.”

Charles inhaled sharply. Those memories were bubbling over the walls he’d erected to keep himself sane, to keep himself functioning well enough to be of any use to anyone. And yet...he found himself lacking in the strength to truly push them back. The sister he’d adored since childhood, the man he lo—no. No, he wasn’t going down that trail of thought. Erik and Raven had both made their decisions, and as much as Charles hoped differently, the likelihood that they’d ever come home was small. He’d have better odds winning the lottery.

There was a faint ache in his chest, one he’d become depressingly accustomed to ever since Cuba. Or rather, ever since he became lucid enough from the morphine and whatever other painkillers and drugs the hospitals had pumped into his system for the months following that catastrophe. Every so often it would creep up on him, and the only way to shove it back was to hole himself up in his study and get spectacularly drunk while most definitely not looking at the half-finished game he and Erik had abandoned the night before Cuba in favor of sleep. (Five more moves and Charles would have had Erik in checkmate. Two moves and Erik would have captured his queen and checked his king.)

And so, Charles retreated to that very study, the one almost hidden in the furthest corner of the mansion’s first floor, with a bottle of his father’s finest scotch. As a child, it had been the one place in the estate where Charles could find some measure of respite from the minds in the house. Now, it was a place he went to every time he needed to indulge his worse habits without risking discovery. The boys all knew not to disturb him when he took to this particular study; it along with the rooms that were once Erik’s and Raven’s were not to be touched in the process of re-purposing the old building into a school. It was the unspoken condition they’d all agreed to.

Now, to drown the feelings in malt whiskey and hopefully kill them thoroughly enough that he would never again have to repeat this little ritual and he could finally deal with converting the three rooms into something actually of use, rather than let them stagnate for a foolish hope that his loved ones would ever return.

[Lana Kane]

Lana had not even bothered with her shoes, when earlier today she had not left her room without wearing everything she owned. Habits of living on the streets--if you left it alone, you'd lose it. Instead of her layers she running down the halls wearing leggins and a over sized sweater. She still didn't know her way around so when she could not find him, she kept looking.

It wasn't until she got to the lower floors that she could no longer block out the growing emotion. Someone wasn't happy. The emotions was dark, and it made her roll her shoulders as she begin slowly walking toward it. It almost physically hurt. Lana check the emotions to see if there was any telling ones, such as ones that suggested they might hurt themselves. She couldn't tell, for these emotions were painful. So many dark ones pressed together. Sad ones. Anger? Hurt. Bitterness? Regret? Feeling something tickle her cheek, she lifted her hand to touch it, and found a tear. Shite. She couldn't block this.

Pushing the door open to the room, very slowly, Lana stepped in and looked around until her eyes found him. "School teacher?" This was unexpected. As the words were spoken softly, she spoke up and pushed the door shut behind her. Walking toward him, she began to smell the drink--being she didn't drink, even a little smelt strong to her, so she had no idea how much he'd drank.

Lana had learned to distance herself from everyone. Not many trusted mutants who could play with their heads. Less trusted a girl who was like her. She rarely used names, used nick names to keep them distanced, and unconnected. Still, right now she wasn't even sure what she felt, or who to unconnected herself. "Charles?"

[x]

Charles was walking a very dangerous line. Well, he wasn’t walking—no thanks to a certain someone who will remain nameless—but one gets the idea. If reliance on the bottle was an inheritable genetic, than Charles was willingly playing right into its hands. Well, that was off, too; genes didn’t technically have hands but—oh, never mind. The point was, he was getting progressively more drunk as a result of trying (in vain, it seemed) to drown out still sharp ache of betrayal Erik and Raven had left in their wake.

Raven—with her lovely, beautiful mind that he hadn’t been able to touch since they were children and her lovely, beautiful blue skin that was striking and stunning in all of the ways Raven herself was—had left because Charles, despite all of his telepathic powers, was utterly incapable of dealing with people. He’d never been able to manage: not as a child, not as a young man, and not as an adult. He only made one mistake after another. It was a wonder no one else had actually left yet. (Wouldn’t be long, though; Alex and Sean were both getting alarming close to acceptable drafting ages, and what of Hank? The poor sod couldn’t fight, covered from head to toe in blue fur as he was.)

And Erik—Erik was almost too painful to think about. Where Raven had been his sister in everything but blood, Erik had been...something else. Not a lover, not even close—no matter how much Charles had wished otherwise—but he’d been enough of an idiot to let himself become dangerously invested with a man who could no more stay in one place than the damned wind itself. Charles had been practically begging to have his heart ripped out and bludgeoned. And Erik had been all too happy to oblige him.

Another gulp of scotch to drown the bloody sentiment. Erik was a monster. A horrible, terrible, vile, beautiful monster, and Charles was certain that he would never find a mind anywhere near as breathtaking or gorgeous as Erik’s was. And what a dead loss that was.

“School teacher?”

Shite. Charles immediately righted himself in his chair, pawing at his face in an effort to dry his eyes (when the hell had he started crying?). What was (he had to think for a moment before her name came floating back) Lana doing there? Wasn’t she supposed to be resting or practicing or whatever he’d let her loose to do?

“Charles?”

If he closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend that Raven had come back—no. No, he wasn’t going to do that to himself. Raven wasn’t going to come home any sooner than Erik, and considering that both had left him to die on that godforsaken beach, it wasn’t fucking likely that either would come home anytime soon.

“Lana,” he said, making a grand effort not to slur. “What are you doing here?”

The last thing he needed was a student—especially a new one—to see how pathetic he actually was.

[Lana Kane]

She watched him wipe clean his face and try to appear normal, more in control. Yet it wasn't the physical she was seeing. It was everything he was feeling. “Lana,” He said, his words off and she couldn't pinpoint why. “What are you doing here?” He had not heard her coming? Every time (so far) that she'd sought him out he had known before she got there that she was coming. Even when she had not known she was looking for him. For him now to be surprised was as telling as his emotions.

"I had a bath and missed you." She said dismissively, and almost regretted the words once they were out. She didn't want to dismiss this. Instead she reached out to him with her powers and took away some of the bitterness, and anger. She wanted to see what was under it. Love? "You're sad." And he couldn't lie out of it. Not to her. "It's a deep sadness. Strong." She wanted him to know she understood. "It's ok to be sad, Charles. It's not alright to hide it behind drinks." Because she could tell he was trying to bury it rather then face it and let it heal. Her tone was soft, and her words encouraging. She wanted to help him like he was helping her.

Leaning forward she took the drink slowly from him, and sat it out of his reach. Then she stood before him, "I know you've just met me, but if you want to talk, you might find it helps more then the drink. Trust me on this. I'm a professional at emotions." And with what she was feeling from him, she didn't dare walk away until she knew he wasn't in danger of hurting himself.

[x]

“I had a bath and missed you,” she replied without missing a beat.

Charles snorted at that. He could feel her powers reaching out to him, sifting through his emotions, and what did it say about him that he had no desire to actually stop her? He was tired, defeated, a broken shell of a man who’d given his heart to the wrong person.

“You’re sad,” she said. “It’s a deep sadness. Strong. It’s okay to be sad, Charles. It’s not alright to hide it behind drinks.”

She had a very lovely voice, didn’t she? A very emotional one, which made sense considering her mutation. Lana coaxed the drink out of his hand and put it out of his reach. He didn’t even try to stop her, instead leaning back into his chair and squeezing his eyes shut. They’d begun to burn again, and like hell Charles was going to cry in front of a student. He still had some pride left.

“I know you’ve just met me, but if you want to talk, you might find it helps more than the drink,” Lana added. “Trust me on this. I’m a professional at emotions.”

After nearly thirty years, one would think Charles would have a better grip on emotions. He’d started life as an empath, after all, attuned to the emotions of everyone around him from such an early age he wondered if he’d ever felt anything on his own.

“What’s the point in talking,” he muttered, not even thinking about what exactly he was saying. “Talking about this won’t bring him back.”

[Lana Kane]

Lana watched as he struggled to stay composed, and she looked away for a moment, giving him that privacy to adjust, before she looked back at him; unwilling to leave him to do it alone. “What’s the point in talking,” Talking could do many things, it could bring the pain forward so it could burn out, it could help you understand it so you could better deal with it. “Talking about this won’t bring him back.” Oh good he was being to open some! Lana wanted to smile at his words to be encouraging but she was feeling so much from him that smiling wasn't possible.

It also took her a moment to try to pull herself from his emotions and pick up on his words. Him back? Had he lost someone? A brother or friend? Odd, she thought she had picked up on love back there--and not the brotherly sort. Lana looked at his emotions again, trying to see what she misunderstood. "It might you let him go." Be it the memory of his friend, or the loss of him that . . . he . . . was . . . .

Oh bloody shite that was romantic love. Lana's jaw fell open, and she felt her own emotions counter his leaving her a shocked and broken mess for a few seconds before she could again pull herself out. Fuck! Oh shite! No bloody wonder he didn't want to bath with her!

Lana took a few surprised steps back while trying cope with this new knowlage, and the coffee table behind her caught her behind the knees causing her to fall back and land on her bum--slightly painfully. "Oh!" She stayed sitting, using one hand to rub her now sore bum while she stared at him. "You're in love with man?!" She asked, trying to make sure she understood.

Bring him back? Had he died or left him? Bloody hell, not only was Xavier a 'odd duck' but a mutant as well! No bloody wonder he hid himself away here! He was batting double 0's on the acceptance scale! AND he was able to control minds which meant even mutants where hesitant around him! TRIPLE 0's! She wouldn't be surprised if his lover had left him, especially if the man was human.

Oh that would have just been icing on the cake! If Magneto ever found out that---OH! OH! OH! OH! OH SHITE! OH SHITE! Nnnnnnnooooooooo!?? He wouldn't!? Covering her lips with one hand, while her eyes went wide! Uncovering her lips she gasped out, "Erik Lehnsherr," and then she watched his emotions--digging deep to see his reaction to the name. Was he in love with him?

[x]

“It might help you to let him go,” Lana offered, and her confusion as to his pronoun use apparent.

Charles could kick himself for slipping up with that; his own misery was not something his students needed to be at all involved in. Alex, Hank, and Sean had regarded him a bit different since it came out just how strong Erik’s loss was affecting him. None of the boys were at all about to take off and abandon him for it, but he could tell that it was a constant though in the back of their minds. Charles wasn’t simply different, he was different.

A sharp burst of realization from Lana’s mind made Charles wince. Her jaw dropped and the shock she felt was almost visible in its intensity. She all but jumped away, her knees catching the edge of the coffee table and depositing her directly on her bum.

“You’re in love with a man?!”

It felt like an accusation, like something he’d normally be much more prepared to deal with when sober (mainly because he’d only had to deal with it sober once, and that was when he so tragically naïve), and what was left of his spine immediately stiffened.

“And so what if I am,” he shot back, a part of him wincing at how harsh the retort was. He was tired of being constantly at odds with everyone around him. Humans, mutants, it didn’t matter. His telepathy made everyone wary of him, and his nearly fatal attraction to Erik fucking Lehnsherr, of all people, was just another reason why he would never truly be a part of the world. He struggled to keep it all under wraps, to downplay his powers as much as he could so he wouldn’t intimidate others, but he always seemed to slip up. To make mistakes. Why, oh why had Lana decided to seek him out tonight?

Then she said his name, and Charles immediately deflated. The maelstrom of love-anger-upset-hurt-betrayal crescendoed and then immediately fell flat. He’d long since given up trying to deny just how badly he’d fallen for the metal manipulator. Erik had been the brightest mind Charles had ever had the pleasure to sense, and there had been so much love and passion resting untapped beneath the anger and fear that Charles had been well and truly damned since Day One. Of course, Charles had not been worth enough to stay—Raven had earned Erik’s affection, and Charles had been left behind to bleed out on the hot sand. And yet, despite it all, Charles couldn’t convince himself to stop loving Erik. No matter how painful, how hopeless, he couldn’t kill that piece of himself. And he’d tried.

“I understand if you think differently of me,” he muttered, accepting his defeat. The boys only stayed because they would feel too guilty doing the proper thing and leaving him behind. That much was obvious, he didn’t need to glance into their minds to confirm it. “If you wish to leave, I won’t stop you.”

Because she would leave. Sooner or later, everyone did. And he was a fool for ever trying at all.

[Lana Kane]

“And so what if I am,” Oh shite! Lana felt the shock from her system being over powered at Erik's name, and she knew! Oh bloody hell did she ever know!! Charles Xavier was in love with a man he should be hating. Right now, Lana could only stare at him. Shocked, and trying to reassess everything she'd known before now. "Damn, school teacher!" She muttered, and lifted her hand to her head, no longer able to sort out his emotions and her own. “I understand if you think differently of me,” What? “If you wish to leave, I won’t stop you.”

She did see him differently, she saw because before this he had been a challenge for her to try to make blush and win over. To tempt in to her bed. Now it seemed that he was . . . . different. She’d been out and in the world enough to have seen this before, but she’d never seen love behind it. It made it seem more normal, even while she knew it wasn’t. “Look school teacher, I aint gonna sit here and judge you. You’re in pain. That’s all I see right now.” And for now that was all she saw—or well felt. She felt how he felt. The pain of it. Lana didn't know what was happening in his head but she did know what was happening in his heart—and that was breaking.

Pushing to a stand, she turned and grabbed the able, pulling it forward she she could sit on it and be right before him. Before she sat she moved to stand before him, before leaning forward and bracing her hands on his arm rest. Then she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then she sat and took his one hand, using her powers to draw out the bitter, and hurt feelings.

"I'm not leaving right now. You've caught my off guard, yeah, but Ima big girl. I'll recover. Pride is a little hurt, mind you. I had aims to get you in a bath, but at least it's you and not me." She wasn't sure what to think about the man thing, but she understood the pain part. She couldn't walk away from the pain. Be it her power, or her personality, Lana could not walk away. "Let me help you, Charles." Her voice had lost the shocked outrage, and turned more softer.

"I've never loved anyone, and honestly, after seeing how it leaves everyone, I don't think I want too. Does he know?" It all hurt, and the pain wasn't something she wanted to really feel. And the risk of opening up like that--she knew what everyone felt, but she couldn't just show someone else. There was also the hazard of knowing when someone hated the things you did. Not would could tell white lies to her. No one could spare her feelings.

[x]

“Damn, school teacher,” Lana muttered, his reaction to her mention of Erik all but overwhelming her.

Charles tried to scale his emotions back, tried to dam them back up behind the mental shields he’d been fighting to maintain since Erik shoved a coin through his head by proxy. There was damage he had no clue how to repair, no precedent to work off of, nothing but a few band-aid fixes to a problem with no solution, and he should count himself lucky that he hadn’t ended up worse off. After all, he could have easily gone insane or his mental state could have fractured and splintered, or worse.

But he was tired. He was tired of trying to remain strong, of only being able to devote late nights in the most remote room of the mansion to dealing with what was left of himself. It was exhausting, and while the boys certainly did their best to help and meant well, it just wasn’t enough. They didn’t know him like Raven had; they didn’t know what to say or how to act. They looked at him and saw something broken. Raven had an entire lifetime of dealing with his moods. She knew exactly how far to push and which buttons would get which reactions. And just the fact that she would be there would be more than a comfort. She was the only family he had left in the world. She was familiar, someone he could be at his worst in front of and she wouldn’t think at all poorly of him.

“Look school teacher,” Lana continued, “I ain’t gonna sit here and judge you. You’re in pain. That’s all I see right now.”

And he was sorry for that; she deserved better than having to deal with his issues. She stood up and grabbed a table, dragging it ahead until she’d able to sit right before him. Lana braced her hands on the armrests of his wheelchair and gave him a brief kiss on his cheek before sitting down and taking his hand. He could feel her power working to draw out some of his more negative emotions, and Charles didn’t even try to resist. It was a bit strange; he’d never really had another mutant like him work their powers on him. Emma had been the only other one, and she wasn’t gentle in her usage.

"I'm not leaving right now. You've caught my off guard, yeah, but I’m a big girl. I'll recover. Pride is a little hurt, mind you. I had aims to get you in a bath, but at least it's you and not me."

He offered her a tired, half-smile in response. “A few years ago, I might have taken you up on your offer—if you were a bit closer to my age, mind.”

She was lovely, after all, and the sort of woman he would have flirted with in a pub back in Oxford. But there wasn’t any use in thinking of what-ifs and might-have-beens; she was a bit young for him, and now she was his student. Anything else wouldn’t be at all proper.

“Let me help you, Charles,” she said, her voice soft and serious. All joking aside, she seemed as though she may genuinely care. And wouldn’t that just be a wonderful thing?

Charles sighed and closed his eyes. “I feel as though none of this is at all fair to you. You shouldn’t have to deal with these sorts of things, especially not my romantic blunders.”

While he’d never dove that deep into her mind, he knew Lana had a great deal of strength and potential within her. All at once, he was both excited for her and terrified for her. That sort of power...it was easy to grow bitter, to grow to hate yourself and think that you can do nothing right. He knew from experience, struggled with it still. White lies existed for a reason, but evolution had decided that their comfort was not to be for those like Charles and Lana.

"I've never loved anyone, and honestly, after seeing how it leaves everyone, I don't think I want too. Does he know?"

He kept his eyes close and shook his head. He’d never told Erik. Raven knew; she’d pulled it out of him until they were both blubbering messes on the kitchen floor. It was how he learned that Erik had chosen her, that Raven had wanted to go with Erik without reading her mind. He loved Raven, and he loved Erik. If they couldn’t be happy with him, then they deserved to be happy with each other. Or so he had thought.

[Lana Kane]

“A few years ago, I might have taken you up on your offer—if you were a bit closer to my age, mind.” Lana smiled, glad that he wasn't so far into his drunken depression that he couldn't take her jokes. "You got it wrong, school teacher, the age is what makes it fun." It was another soft tease meant more to just lighten the mood slightly rather then her hitting on him.

“I feel as though none of this is at all fair to you. You shouldn’t have to deal with these sorts of things, especially not my romantic blunders.”Not fair to her? He thought life should be fair? Lana wanted to tell him life wasn't fair, and she had long since given up on life being close to fair. If life was fair then she'd never of had to leave home. Yet she didn't speak up on the unfairness of the world. He didn't need to hear dark things right now.

Charles had shaken his head no, when she had asked about his love. Her hand tightened on his. She had taken just enough of his emotions away so that it would not hurt so bad, and she hoped that let him talk to her. "That might be better, yeah?" She asked softly, "Pride wise, at least." She had her pride, but that was about all she had going for her. He might be different. "If I could take it away, would let me?" Lana couldn't, not completely. She could take it away for the moment, but once she walked away it would only surface again. She just wanted to know if he would get rid of the pain, or if it was worth it. Love. Something she hoped never happened to her. "You should write bad poetry. Isn't that what people do when they are heart broken? Write bad poetry."

[x]

“You got it wrong, school teacher,” Lana teased gently; “the age is what makes it fun.”

Charles managed a half smile. If she wasn’t a student, then. Just because he was running a school for mutant children and playing it as fast and loose as he dared, all things considered, did not mean he was willing to engage in anything appropriate with a student. Either way, she was off limits as a romantic partner. A friend, though...perhaps he could manage a friend.

“That might be better, yeah?” Lana’s voice remained soft. “Pride wise, at least.”

Often it seemed as though pride was all he really had in his favor. But what pride could remain when he’d struggled to get out of bed in the morning? When they’d had to set up a temporary bedroom for him on the first floor until they could get the elevator in working order? When they’d had to make dozens of changes to the estate just so that he could get around without have to call for Hank or Alex or Sean? At least, when it came to Erik, Charles wouldn’t have to deal with the knowledge that Erik did what he did in spite of Charles’s ill-advised attachment. A single shred of victory in an ocean of utter defeat.

“If I could take it away, would you let me?”

Charles sighed and covered his face with his hands, letting them drag down a bit before removing them entirely. “No,” he answered. “As wonderful as that sounds, Lana, I can’t just pick and choose my emotions. I’m afraid I’ll just have to find a way to deal with them.”

And therein was the conundrum. If he wasn’t careful, the emotional upheaval was going to take a rather unpleasant toll on his mutation. The telepathy wasn’t something he could turn on and off, something he could lock away so he could properly deal with his heartbreak. To do so would be akin to hacking off a limb to deal with stress. No, he need to relocate that point between rage and serenity that had served him so well before.

“You should write bad poetry,” the empath offered. “Isn’t that what people do when they are heartbroken? Write bad poetry?”

He laughed a bit at that. “Somewhere, my old literature teachers all simultaneously cringed for reasons they can’t quite understand. I can assure you I’m not even capable of ‘bad poetry’; I can read it well enough, but write it? It would be an atrocity, a crime against poets everywhere!”

[Lana Kane]

He let go of her hand to cover his face, and run his hands over it. Lana pulled her hand back to rest on her knees, but didn't let the more painful emotions return. “No. “As wonderful as that sounds, Lana, I can’t just pick and choose my emotions. I’m afraid I’ll just have to find a way to deal with them.” Yeah, she could see that. He wasn't the type to abuse other's powers. She'd only known him a short while but she could see it. Lana had just wondered if he would.


“It would be an atrocity, a crime against poets everywhere!” "I'm not all educated, but that sounds like the definition of bad poetry." She piped back, and almost tried to make him do it. She could. She could start him off and tease him into finishing it. They'd laugh, and for tonight the pain would fade by it's self. However, Lana knew it would not help--only distract.

"Can I ask you something, school teacher?" She asked, her teasing tone from a moment ago lost to the more serious one; as she wanted to understand so she could help him more. How did he love a man like Magneto? She could see why some loved him, but Charles was a man of peace. She'd heard of him before. He wanted humans and mutants to colive together--which wasn't what the Brotherhood lived for. "Why him? I don't understand." Maybe it was because she'd never felt love of her own, but this didn't make sense.

[x]

Lana quipped about that being the definition of bad poetry—the answer was rather subjective one way or the other, to be honest, but she didn’t press the subject and Charles found himself a bit grateful for that. To be honest, he didn’t really feel up to poetry—he’d much rather spend the night drunk and spend tomorrow as though he hadn’t recently indulged in a small breakdown.

“Can I ask you something, school teacher?” Lana’s voice left the teasing lilt behind, adopting a much more serious tone, and Charles offered a small nod in consent. She was going to ask about Erik, no doubt about that. Given her time with him, she was probably lost as to why he regarded Erik with any fond affection at all. Lana hadn’t witnessed Erik as Charles had; she hadn’t watched as he found the point between rage and serenity, hadn’t delved into his mind and seen for herself all of the wonder and complexity and under goodness Erik was capable of. “Why him? I don’t understand.”

Charles swallowed. He had hundreds of reasons as to why he felt the way he did about Erik, but words seemed to fail him. How could he adequately explain how Erik was? How he could still be, if he so chose? How could he describe to her the sort of beautifully exquisite pain that fueled Erik, a pain borne of love and the loss of that love? How could he even begin to speak about the utter beauty of Erik’s mind, the stunning clarity with which he viewed the word and the purity of purpose that drove him towards his goals, no matter the cost? And how could he articulate that he would likely never stop loving Erik, no matter what the other man did?

He sighed and sunk into his chair.

“When I first met Erik, I dove—rather deeply—into his mind,” Charles began. “I had never felt a mind as stunning as his—Raven’s came close, but we were children when we first met. Erik, though...it was like looking at the sun. Blinding, painful, but you can’t help but want to look for as long as you can, even longer than that.

“It was his mind,” he confessed. “It is his mind, and it will always be his mind—even though I may never be allowed to see it again.”

Because Erik had thrown him out, not only with words, but with actions. That helmet created a tangible barrier between them, and Charles still couldn’t bear the thought of one day facing Erik again, but being unable to sense his mind. To see Erik moving and talking and being Erik, but all of it being so horrifying and wrong because that helmet made Erik feel like some sort of animated doll—not real, not alive, despite everything else that said he was.

[Lana Kane]

“When I first met Erik, I dove—rather deeply—into his mind,” That sounded frighteningly dangerous. Magneto wasn't a peaceful man, and to be in that chaos . . . . Lana had felt his emotions, had felt them for almost a year, so she could only imagine what his mind was like. She didn't want too. She didn't want to see it. She knew he was smart, but there had to be more, yeah?

“It was like looking at the sun. Blinding, painful, but you can’t help but want to look for as long as you can, even longer than that." She didn't understand. His mind? The mind of a man who wanted everything Xavier did not. “It is his mind, and it will always be his mind—even though I may never be allowed to see it again.”

She didn't want to make him explain something that was painful to him, but she wanted to understand. She'd never felt love for herself, only felt others love others. The idea that someone could not help who they loved was alien to her. "But you two want different things. He hates humans, and you want to protect them. And the other things you disagree with. How can his mind be so great, if you two fight so hard against each other?" She asked it hesitantly, not wanting to hurt him more then needed, but there was also curiosity there. She wanted to understand. She wanted to feel it, but she wanted to never feel it. It look like it hurt too much, and she didn't want to feel that.

[x]

“But you two want different things,” Lana pointed out, her confusion still obvious. “He hates humans, and you want to protect them. And the other things you disagree with. How can his mind be so great if you two fight so hard against each other?”

He could be accused of having a bit of a god complex; it was something he had to come to terms with when he was studying psychology and came across the term and found it ringing all too true. But never once had Charles wanted to save all humans. He, perhaps better than anyone else, knew the difference between good and evil in the human mind. Humans were petty, irrational, and prone to killing what they didn’t understand—but then, the same could be said for mutants. There was a reason Charles could never see them as too different to coexist.

But Erik didn’t hate humans, not entirely. It was more a righteous fury borne from past wrongs and the ever-present fear that those wrongs would occur again. With Erik, however, Charles feared there were blinders on him. That one day he would become so obsessed with mutant freedom that he would enact those old wrongs onto humans. And if that ever did come to pass, Erik wouldn’t even recognize it for what it was because he would be the one in power.

“There is so much more to him than what he projects,” Charles answered, sighing and sinking into his chair. “More than violence and destruction—I’ve seen it, in his mind. But you must understand, there are horrors in Erik’s past that fuel his actions now, whether he realizes it or not.”

He paused, thinking for a moment about all that he’d felt and seen that night he and Erik first met. The all-consuming pain and fear that had grabbed Charles’s attention, then the sheer strength and fortitude that Charles had sensed when Erik was under his own power once again, so powerful and yet just barely scratching the surface. It made his heart skip a beat just thinking about it.

“I’m afraid it’s rather difficult to explain,” he added. “But it’s very difficult to truly hate someone, no matter how often or how fervently you fight, when you’ve seen that person at his most vulnerable.”

He thought of the memory of Erik’s mother he’d retrieved from the man’s mind. There had been so much love and peace in that memory that Charles had been blown away by the intensity of it all. It was like nothing Charles had ever experienced before.