Chess & Civil Conversation

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Magneto had not thought he would be coming here for quite some time. But alas, Charles had managed to get in touch with him -- which was not at all surprising considering what his mutation was -- and invited him. Erik still regarded him as a friend, despite their many differences and priorities, so how could he refuse such an offer? Had not so much happened, it would have even felt like old times. He was coming here not with the intention to fight, but with a temporary truce so that they could talk over things with civility and respect toward one another, regardless of the other's disagreement. To show his trust and good faith, Erik also left his helmet behind. He often wore it to prevent Charles from discovering any of his plans, but as he came here today, he had no ulterior motives. He had nothing to hide from Charles Xavier. Being one of the most wanted men, Erik wore his usual style of dress, topped with a hat -- no helmet -- and sunglasses to hide his face. Who knew who would be around the school, and Erik could not take any chances.

Magneto stood outside the gates to the school. The sign was back up and it seemed that he was in the process of getting the school up and running. Erik approved. For he would forever be indebted to Charles for having helped him control his own gift and be able to perfect his powers in a way that no one else had been, or would be, capable of doing. Besides, mutants did indeed need a place to go to feel safe, as this society did not accept them. Apart from this cause of joy, Erik was also pleased that Charles had embraced his mutation once again. Having heard that he abandoned his powers had been most disappointing, and so to hear that he was Charles Xavier again, and not just a broken man, was wonderful news. Erik raised his hands to pull the gates apart, just enough for him to enter before he closed them behind him.

He went up to the front door, memories flooding his mind of the last time he was here. A time when they had shared a common goal and purpose. Where they had trained. Where everyone had seemed to be one cohesive unit. Now, everyone was torn apart. Raven was missing, Alex was god knows where, Banshee was dead . . . and Charles of course, remained. Yet none of them seemed to have any loyalty to the cause that the other fought for. Erik did not foresee Mystique returning to Charles, and he certainly did not see her returning to himself either. He forced these memories back well enough to focus on the present. What happened in the past was unable to be changed -- well, that wasn't entirely true but still. They had played with time enough. Now, it was time to start the healing process in the present, not rely on altering events to better the future.

Tag Charles

[x]

Erik was returning to Westchester.

Erik was returning to Westchester and Charles was an idiot. He’d reached out to the metalokinetic, unable to let go of Logan’s memories of a future Charles did not want. All of that pain, that suffering, and all of it because he and Erik were unable to reconcile their differences. The first instinct was to take all of the blame, something he was used to from years of experience. He was the telepath, and therefore everything that went wrong was ultimately his fault.

Shaking himself of that mindset had proven as difficult as readjusting to the chair. He’d forgotten how much his back would ache from the constant lack of activity. While he hadn’t been terribly athletic since he was still in high school, he’d never been so inactive for so long, and it showed. His telepathy was another thing entirely, with having to relearn all of his shielding and flex muscles he hadn’t allowed himself to flex in years.

And reopening the school was going to prove itself as far more of a nightmare than originally opening it. Not to mention he had to try to hunt down a new assortment of teachers to replace the ones who were unable to return. He wasn’t looking forward to the interviews he’d have to go through with each and every one of them, and even though he tried to ensure that as many of them where mutants as possible, but not every mutant had gone into teaching and not all of the adult mutants he had located were so willing to give up the lives they’d managed to build in order to teach. So, there were more than a handful of humans on the lists. (And wouldn’t that just infuriate Erik to no end?)

All of his thoughts came crashing to a halt when an achingly familiar mind brushed against his periphery. Charles felt his heart skip a beat at the fact that Erik had forgone the helmet. Erik had forgone the helmet. Maybe there truly was hope, after all.

He wheeled himself back from his desk and maneuvered himself around his desk. With a deep breath and a last thought of fuck it, Charles reached out to Erik.

Come in, Erik. I’m in the first-floor study; straight in and to your right.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

As Erik patiently waited, he felt a familiar voice fill his mind and it hardly startled him. Though, he had not communicated with Charles in this way for quite some time. The last had been perhaps when he had gotten inside his head to remove a fallen piece of equipment that had landed on Charles. Erik did not feel vulnerable, because he had made the conscious choice to come here, void of the helmet. Whatever happened would be of his own doing. Besides, he trusted Charles. It was an odd sort of thing considering everything between them, but he knew that he could say that he did. For even when he had done all he had, Charles had still let him flee before the police could arrest him. Charles had had the power to ensure he got locked up and held in an even more secure prison than the last. But his friend had let him go. Which was what brought him here today: the hope that they could reach some sort of mutual understanding. He smiled at Charles mentally granting him entrance, and Magneto waved his hand over the lock of the door to let himself in, closing it behind him.

The inside halls brought more familiarity than the outside, a strong sense of deja vu hitting him as he walked down the hall, following the directions that Charles had given him. He was somewhat familiar with the house, though in all its enormity, it did still slip his mind were exactly every single room was located. He recalled which one had been staying in, and then of course the more communal areas. Reaching his destination, Erik paused outside the slightly opened door, knowing there was no point knocking for Charles would already know he was here. Erik took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket. He then pushed the door open, giving a bit of a smile in greeting. "Hello, my friend," he said, his words amicable and void of any resentment or hostility. Though he supposed that if anyone was going to be resentful, Charles would have more entitlement to that, and so he waited to see how his friend would response to his words; whether this conversation would start out on a civil note, or be like their last: greeted with a punch. Though he doubted that this reunion would constitute such a violent start to it.

[x]

Charles took a series of deep breaths as he followed Erik’s mind down the hall. He hadn’t seen Erik since the fiasco in Washington, D.C. What if Hank was right and the future truly couldn’t be changed? What if they were doomed to fail, to watch their world fall apart regardless of the choices they made?

“We need you to hope again.”

Hope. He hadn’t really much of that since the last of his teachers were drafted and he had to close the school down. But now, now he had no choice. He had to have a bit of faith that they could change the future, could make it better than the nightmares he had seen in Logan’s mind. If he wanted to avoid that pain, that suffering, then he needed to make peace with Erik. They couldn’t afford to continue as they had been, working towards different goals and constantly at odds.

“Hello, my friend.”

Charles looked up to see Erik, offering a kind smile and amicable words. His heart sped though, though if that were the result of nerves or something else, he wasn’t entirely sure. (And how could Erik have such wonderful taste in civilian clothing, but his choice in supervillain costume was...laughable at best?)

He swallowed and offered up a small smile in return.

“Hello, Erik. I’m glad you could make it.”

He tilted his head in the direction of the chessboard, two empty glasses on either side of the board.

“Shall we get started?”

[Erik Lehnsherr]

As soon as Charles smiled at Erik, he knew that things were off to a good start. He was fully prepared for a debate to occur at some point during their conversation, however he was not going to seek one out. He was not going to provoke one. He sincerely wanted to speak to Charles; a friend to a friend, rather than an enemy, for as he previously established, Erik did not see Charles as his enemy. Merely a mutant who in his own way, believed he was doing the right thing. He looked toward the area that was perfectly set up for them, equipped with chairs -- or a chair for Erik --, a chess board and two glasses that were just waiting for a drink to be poured in them. "Just like old times," Erik said lightly. He knew that so much had changed since then, but it provided a normality and casualness to this entire meeting -- if one could even call it that. For they were not forced together due to some dramatic circumstance. They were both here willingly and by choice.

Erik made his way toward the table, reaching for the bottle of drink as he started to fill the glasses, one for each of them. He then took position, standing on the side of the black pieces, for he had played white the last time and decided to give Charles the opportunity to go first. He did not sit until Charles joined him, not wanting to be rude in his friend's presence. "I see that you are reopening the school," he stated, starting with an innocent conversation. Magneto had quite liked the idea of Charles opening a school, as he already thought on. So it was at least a subject that they could both agree on, and both saw the benefits of. Something light and easy to talk about, before they delved into the more tense subject matter.

[x]

“Just like old times,” Erik quipped, his tone light, as he looked at the set-up.

Charles gave a brief nod as he shifted in his chair. That was the plan; best to have a discussion of this nature in a relatively casual setting. Charles had no illusions that, at some point, there would be a myriad of disagreements. Erik was an aggressive man at the best of times, and Charles was well aware he could be just as stubborn. He was a pacifist by nature, but he was by no means a push-over. But this had to be different. They had to find enough middle ground to stand on.

Erik poured the drinks and took his place by the black pieces as Charles pushed himself over to the white side of the chessboard. While he tried to be was quick and graceless as possible, positioning the wheelchair took far longer than he would have liked, and it was all he could do to keep his face from burning in shame. There was no reason to feel at all embarrassed or ashamed before Erik, especially not for this, but Charles had always hated the chair. Hated what it meant, what its presence meant he could no longer do. Making the decision to go back to it had been one of the hardest he’d ever been forced to make. (But it felt like he was throwing it all in Erik’s face, when that was the last thing he wanted to do. He should have gotten himself set up before Erik arrived, but he’d wanted Erik to have his pick of which side he’d play.)

“I see that you are reopening the school,” Erik offered, providing the beginnings of what could hopefully be considering a fairly neutral topic between them.

“Yes,” Charles confirmed, taking his drink and settling himself behind the white pieces. “I’ve been going through the lists Hank and I made before, trying to locate qualified instructors who haven’t been taken by the draft and aren’t likely to be. It’s more than a bit challenging; the majority of those I’ve located are women and more than a handful are reluctant to give up the posts they worked so hard to earn in order to teach here.”

It was a sentiment he could understand; while he’d never been a woman, he’d known a number of female colleagues who had to struggle and fight for everything that was practically a given for him. He’d had a few agree, but he needed more than a few instructors to get the school back up and fully operational.

“Potential students are much easier to find,” he continued, opening the game by moving a pawn forward. “Most parents find themselves unerring grateful for the opportunities that the school can provide.”

In fact, the majority of them were simply people who had no clue how to deal with the fact that their daughter could fry the wiring or that their son could levitate and therefore were perfectly happy to send them to somebody who did. They weren’t cruel people, not all of them, and a good many of them still loved their children dearly, but mutation wasn’t something they were equipped to deal with. That had been something Charles had aspired to change, when he was still young and naïve and an idiot of epic proportions. It was something he still hoped to change, if he could get Congress to cooperate with him.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik watched without staring as Charles struggled to position himself. He knew the last thing his friend would want was any sympathy from him, and so he refrained from vocalizing it. But that did not mean that he did not feel bad for Charles' current state. The fact that he had lost mobility of his legs was and would forever be a tragic accident. He did not comment on it however, nor did he offer any assistance for Charles seemed to get himself in the proper position. Erik then took his seat as he focused on Charles' answer to his question and then of course, the game which had now officially commenced. He spoke of searching for teachers and the difficulty in doing so. That of course made sense. Erik imagined not many would be willing to sign up for these teaching positions especially since the school was just starting out. And it came as no surprise that the enrollment of students was high. For if there any place that they could go to so that they could learn of their mutation, it was here.

"You are the most knowledgeable person when it comes to mutations and understanding them." Erik could say that with the utmost confidence and certainty. It was Charles after all who had unlocked Magneto's own secret to his mutations, and he had trained and helped many others understand their powers. "Students can find no better place to come to." Erik's own goals drastically differed from Charles and while he too was working toward building a group of mutants, this place, this school, would provide the safest and most stable environment for them. The Brotherhood was not about giving mutants a safe haven; it was about bringing them together to fight for a common cause. "I am certain that in time, you will have an abundance of teachers interested in a position here." Because as the school would grow in popularity among mutants, so would those wishing to work here. Hell, if things had been different, if Magneto had not formed the Brotherhood and shared the same views as Charles, then he would be the first in line to apply for a teaching position here, or any sort of position that would help others.

But alas, that was not the path his life had taken, nor did he ever believe it was one meant for him to embark on. "I assume that you have ensured the safety in terms of the location of the school?" He asked. Mainly, he was inquiring about what happened to Moira -- a woman that Magneto already wasn't particularly fond of --, as she held knowledge of the whereabouts of this school. And quite frankly, humans could not be trusted. Even if she swore she would not reveal any details about the school, there would be someone who came along and forced it out of her. Humans were not loyal to mutants, nor would they ever be. Erik briefly broke eye contact from Charles as he too moved a pawn forward before returning his eyes to meet his friends.

[x]

“You are the most knowledgeable person when it comes to mutations and understanding them,” Erik responded. “Students can find no better place to come to. I am certain that in time, you will have an abundance of teachers interested in a position here.”

High praise, coming from Erik. And yet, they weren’t the words Charles still wanted to hear. He had no illusions that Erik would be willing to exchange his violent ways for a more peaceful one, but he had to hope. Even if Erik wouldn’t come back to Westchester, Charles had to believe that there was a middle path. Logan had said that they had settled their differences in his future. It was possible—inevitable, perhaps—but what Charles feared most was that it was only such after decades of fighting and bloodshed.

“I certainly hope so,” he replied, swallowing back any other comment.

“I assume that you have ensured the safety in terms of the location of the school?” Erik made his own move, placing a pawn out, briefly breaking eye contact in order to do so.

Charles considered his next move, making a considerable effort to hold back from Erik’s mind. There was still a part of him that longed to brush against it as casually as he had when their friendship had been new. Even when he had been stagnating in his own anger and bitterness, he hadn’t been able to fully drown that part of him. He moved another pawn forward.

“Erik, it’s been over a decade since I’ve returned here, since I’ve had intentions of turning this place into a school for mutants. No one with malicious intent has found us yet, and I don’t intend for that to change.”

He was probably thinking of Moira—did Erik even know what happened after Cuba? As soon as Charles had been strong enough to leave the hospital and maintain consciousness for a relatively normal amount of time, he’d sent Moira away. Anonymity was the first line of defense, and that much hadn’t changed. As much as Charles had wanted her to stay, for her to take Erik’s place in his hopes for the future, he couldn’t take that risk. She was loyal to her country first and foremost, to the career she had fought tooth and nail for. Moira wasn’t a horrible person, but there would always be the fear that she would let something slip.

“If you’re wondering about Moira, I can assure you that she’s not a problem,” Charles added. “I haven’t spoken with her since 1962.”

It was something that would inspire guilt in him for the rest of his days. Moira would have never willingly gone against him or the boys, would have never willing done anything that would put them in jeopardy, but it was so easy to make people bend to one’s will, even without the use of telepathy. No amount of reasoning it out would ever fully ease the guilt.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Charles answered Erik's question by saying how he intended to keep this place protected. Erik had not meant for his inquiry to sound as if he doubted Charles' capabilities. He was merely asking about how secure the facility was, rather than accuse him of not doing everything to keep those within it safe. He then made mention of Moira, stating that he had not spoken to her since 62. Erik refrained from saying anything along the lines of 'good' or 'it's for the best'. For he knew that Moira and Charles were at the very least friends. And Charles obviously did not share Erik's dislike for humans. So he knew better than to say anything that may sound negative toward the woman. Though it made him realize that Charles had lost yet another friend in addition to Raven. He just gave a small nod, picking up his glass and taking a sip from it as he contemplated his next move before moving a piece.

"How many students do you have enrolled?" A safer question. One regarding the number of students, as he stated that they were not too difficult to find. Erik did not want to find a way to make even an innocent conversation, turn into an argument. He was fairly certain the topic would soon turn to their contrasting views on society and humans. For now, he was just easing into Charles' company. While the gap between their encounters was not quite as long as the one in 73, there was still -- and always would be -- a lot that existed between them.

[x]

Erik refrained from saying anything about Moira, and Charles allowed himself a bit of gratitude in response. Moira wasn’t as difficult a subject as Raven or his legs...especially Erik himself. Still, what he did to her was something he didn’t wish to discuss, and so Erik being so kind as to keep from pursuing the topic was something Charles was grateful for.

“How many students do you have enrolled,” Erik asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“We have thirty-four confirmed, a number of whom are currently in residence for various reasons,” Charles replied. “There are now twenty-five others who haven’t yet decided and are currently in situations where they face no immediate danger or have any reason to leave.”

He took a sip of his own drink and contemplated his next move. Some of the children had been living on the streets, or had abusive home environments, or had mutations dangerous enough to warrant immediate attention. While they weren’t the only reasons, they were the most common. Those who were still deciding had the luxury of a relatively stable home life and/or mutations that weren’t dangerous, among other factors.

Thirty-four, possibly fifty-nine, students didn’t seem like much, but it was a larger student body than Charles had been expecting. Every day, he woke up to young minds finally allowing themselves to feel hope, to get used to being safe and accepted. It was enough to make him hopeful once again.

“And we’re locating more each day,” he added, making his next move. “At this rate, I fear we may acquire more students than we can handle.” A bit of breathless laughter escaped him as he spoke, a result of stunned amazement and a fledgling desire to hope once more.

His smile weakened a bit as his mind returned to the reason he’d asked Erik to come by. How to broach the subject? He worried the inside of his bottom lip a bit as he mulled it over.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Charles spoke of how many students they had enrolled and Erik gave a bit of a nod. "That is most impressive, Charles," he told him with genuine praise. The fact that mutants had a safe place to go, a safe haven, was extremely important. He was just all to glad that his friend was doing something to help mutants -- unlike the time he had become a recluse. For he knew that this was the Charles that he knew. The one had had formed a strong bond with; the one he admired. He gave a slight smile as Charles spoke of having more than he could handle. "I wasn't aware such a number existed," he said slightly teasingly, not holding any doubt in Charles' capabilities. "I am sure you will find a way to incorporate everyone." Because casting them didn't seem to be something Charles would do. To think of how much was learned in the past several years. There had been a time where Erik had thought he was alone in his gifts; that there was no one else who could comprehend how and why he could do what he could. Yet, after meeting Charles, he had been exposed to an entirely different world of mutants. The very beings he now fought for.

Erik slightly raised his gaze to his friend, noticing the slight change in expression. Had he not known Charles as well as he did, he would think nothing of it. But Erik did not need to be a telepath to know what Charles was thinking. The conversation that they were currently having was just small talk. Something to ease into the more complex one; the purpose of his being here. Erik looked down at the game once more, moving a piece on the board. Erik was direct, often to the point and he knew that eventually, the subject would need to be broached. "It is good to see you, old friend," he began to say, his eyes meeting Charles' face. "But I know you did not invite me here to speak of the reopening of your school." It had merely been a safe topic. One that Magneto could genuinely offer praise and approval with. Because, lord knows there was a great deal that both men disagreed and disapproved over. His words offered Charles to start the conversation, since Erik did not have any offer of a solution to end the conflict between them; to find that middle ground. Leave it to Charles to be able to do that.

[x]

“That is most impressive, Charles,” Erik replied with a nod. “I wasn’t aware such a number existed. I am sure you will find a way to incorporate everyone.”

There was something akin to a swell of pride as Erik spoke; something Charles felt was completely unfounded. Erik still thought rather loudly, and Charles tried to ignore snatches of thought that pegged him as the man he had been when he’d pulled Erik out of the ocean. Entirely unfair, as he was quite certain that that man had died on a Cuban beach, the final nails driven into his coffin by Erik’s apparent assassination attempt and the war forcing the school to close. The Charles of 1962 was a specter that would haunt them for the rest of their lives, if they weren’t careful.

(Oh, but he wanted to be that man again. He wanted to be that hopeful and optimistic again, but memories of the future that they’d managed to prevent in D.C. month ago still haunted him.)

“It is good to see you, old friend,” Erik continued, making his next move before looking back at Charles, “but I know you did not invite me here to speak of the reopening of your school.”

Charles swallowed. “Actually, in some ways, I did,” he admitted.

“I haven’t been able to get my mind off of what I saw in Logan’s future—the future we hopefully managed to prevent,” he clarified. “As a result, I’ve done quite a bit of thinking these past few months.”

How far would mutant rights be able to progress if he and Erik managed to locate some viable middle ground? That critical point between rage and serenity that would give Erik the satisfaction he needed as well as keep to the non-violent model of activism Charles favored? Was there even such a point? There had to be, and they had to find it. For the good of Jean and Scott and Ororo and all of the other mutants he’d located and taught in the alternate future.

(Though, really, there was a far more selfish reason for this meeting; Charles had seen the man Erik could become, the cold-hearted terrorist willing to sacrifice a terrified child for his own purposes, who would ignore anything that didn’t jive with his perceptions of reality. And Erik could be so much more than that. Charles wanted to see Erik become more than what he might have been.)

“Specifically, about our approaches towards achieving mutant rights. And their varied successes. Or lack thereof.”

Charles castled his king and took a sip of his drink, letting the proverbial ball bounce back into Erik’s court. He still wasn’t sure how to carry the conversation in a way that wouldn’t devolve into bitter words and locked horns, but, with any luck, they could manage. Before Erik killed Shaw, they had always managed to compromise on a variety of topics. Even their discussions on mutant rights were not as polarized as they had become in the aftermath of Cuba.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Charles began to speak of the future Logan had come to warn them about. "Nor I," Erik admitted, It was assumed they had altered it due to Mystique not killing Trask . . . however, Erik still did not know what the future held for mutants. So when Charles spoke of their contrasting approaches toward achieving mutant's rights . . . well, he had Erik's attention. Besides, at the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing. They just had extremely conflicting methods of obtaining it. At least Charles generalized his words, not specifying which of them was lacking in their goals. Erik supposed both of them had in a way. For otherwise, mutants' would be free by now. At least it showed effort that Charles was not trying to start a heated debate. And Erik would respect that and do what he could to avoid provoking and instigating one. He broke his attention from the game for a moment, looking at Charles as he showed genuine interest in what his friend had to offer. He was not humoring him in his intrigue. For he did not enjoy fighting with him, any more than Charles enjoyed it.

"What do you propose?" Erik questioned, knowing his verbal reaction was short, but it seemed that Charles perhaps had something in mind. If either of them were going to come up with a peaceful solution, it would most certainly have to be from Charles' end. Magneto was far too set in his own methods to consider a peaceful alternative. And whether Charles could not read his mind or not, he was aware that the professor already knew this. Magneto had come here with an open mind; with the intention to have a conversation with Charles without fighting and throwing justifications back and forth. It was clear that they would never fully agree with one another, which only made the mutant more curious to hear if Charles had actually found a solution. Or if they were here to come up with one together.

[x]

“Nor I,” Erik admitted, breaking his attention from the game to focus on Charles. “What do you propose?”

Erik would never settle for peace. Even if peace could be achieved, Erik would chafe in it. He needed action, he needed the violence to keep himself going. If he had chosen to let those missiles fall in Cuba, if he had decided to return to Westchester that day, Charles had no illusions that Erik would have lingered long. Erik was a restless sort of person, unable to manage stability in the same way most others are unable to handle change. Quite like a shark, really, needing to keep moving forward because to do anything else would mean drowning and death. Charles took a deep breath before beginning.

“When I asked you here, I did so hoping that we could somehow locate middle ground between us.” Charles was doing his best to tread lightly, to carefully word his thoughts as not to incite an argument. Discussion, debate, that was fine. That, they could manage. “From what Logan revealed, and what I myself witnessed in his memories, neither of us manage much success in the long run as we were.”

Fighting, juxtaposed to the other, a constant balance of push-pull where nothing ever really got better and sometimes it only got worse.

“We have an opportunity, here,” he continued, “to change that. If we can manage to strike a compromise, find a way to work together as we once did, perhaps...perhaps we can truly avoid the horrors of that alternate future.”

Trask would not be the only human to get into a position where he could bring harm to mutants, Charles would freely admit that. Evil lurked in the hearts of all living beings, whether they chose to recognize it or not. Just as humans like Trask would never go away, mutants like Shaw would never disappear, either. And if they weren’t careful, Erik might one day become the very thing he spent so many years hating.

Charles wouldn’t condone senseless violence. He wouldn’t condone violent retribution for the acts of amoral humans and he most certainly would not condone such for amoral mutants. It was a cycle they needed to break, had to break if they stood any chance at creating a better future. Decades wasted fighting each other, rather than focusing on those like Trask and Shaw. And what did it all amount to?

“I don’t want us to spend decades against each other, Erik,” Charles said, looking his old friend straight in the eye. “I can’t—just knowing it ever happened at all pains me more than I could possibly say.”

But it had to be Erik’s choice to compromise, to try to work towards a middle road. He came without the helmet, leaving himself unguarded. Charles would not betray that to rework Erik’s mind.

“How willing would you be? To work towards a middle ground?”

[Erik Lehnsherr]

As Charles spoke, Erik remained silent, taking in his words as the impact of them processed in his mind. As much as Erik hated to admit it, Charles was right. Neither of them had been successful in their approaches. Charles had his school, Magneto had his Brotherhood, yet in the end, all was destroyed because of the Sentinels. Where did that leave them? Erik did not know how the future had altered. Was this perhaps what the future would entail? A plan for them to work together rather than against one another? He suggested finding a way to do that, referring to how they once had in the past. Erik gave a slight smile. "We did make a rather formidable team." He knew that they were strong together. Unstoppable. It had been why he wanted Charles to join him; why he had asked him to while holding him on the beach. "I derive no pleasure from fighting against you, my friend," Erik easily admitted to him. He truly hated the fact that he and Charles held such different views which caused them to act in such conflicting ways. "The thought of it pains me too, so at least we can both agree upon that," he stated, not ashamed to admit that he found it a lot to bare, knowing he and Charles constantly fought against one another in the decades to come.

He did not do this for the thrill and adrenaline of battle. He did this, because he firmly believed that there was no other way for mutants to be free. Yet hearing of the future terrified him. He wanted to do everything in his power to stop it . . . who could say that this was not a way to do that? It was very possible that a possible compromise could be an alternate path of peace for mutants. Ultimately, was that not what they both wanted? Liberty for mutants so that they could live freely in the world. But all this sounded too ideal. Too perfect. Too, easy. And Erik was not an optimist. Even still, he withheld his cynicism for he would not reject the idea before he heard it. Nor prove to be completely unwilling to hear his friend out. His respect for Charles prevented him from immediately rejecting his offer. "To achieve a middle ground, would indeed be the most ideal," he stated, speaking aloud his thoughts of willingness to at least try. "For as you said, neither of us have become successful in our attempts. If there is a way to achieve our goals, attained through an acceptable method, one that can be agreed upon by the both of us, then I would not be opposed to it." He paused for a moment, aware that Charles could easily discover his thoughts, so why hold anything back? "However, I admit that no such possibility has ever entered my mind. I fail to clearly see one. Perhaps you are able to change that?" He asked, withholding any hope from his voice. Hope was a dangerous thing to have, because the disappointment could be too much to bare. All Magneto hoped for was mutants to be free, and this hope was met with his aggressive actions to achieve it.

[x]

“We did make a rather formidable team,” Erik agreed. “I derive no pleasure from fighting against you, my friend. The thought of it pains me, too, so at least we can both agree upon that.”

If Erik truly had enjoyed what they’d become, then there would be no salvaging the situation and Charles would have to struggle to maintain that hope Logan and his future self had been so fixated on. Charles hadn’t managed to kill the part of him that still clung to the Erik who had been moved to tears when confronted with a beautiful memory he’d forgotten he had. And really, couldn’t that mutual pain be enough?

“To achieve a middle ground, would indeed be most ideal,” Erik added, thinking aloud. “For as you said, neither of us have become successful in our attempts. If there is a way to achieve our goals, attained though an acceptable method, one that can be agreed upon by the both of us, then I would not be opposed to it.”

The fledgling flame of hope Charles had been tending to ever since Logan had uttered those damning words (“You and Erik sent me back together.”) flared at Erik’s words. He could scarcely believe his ears.  This was what his hope had been for. Charles swallowed and reined in his breathing.

“However, I admit that no such possibility has ever entered my mind,” Erik confessed. “I fail to clearly see one. Perhaps you are able to change that?”

“Logan mentioned a group that I create,” Charles began, mind flicking through the images of the future he’d gleaned from Logan’s mind, “called the X-Men.” Moira’s name for them, back before Charles wiped her mind clean. Had it been a homage or an atonement?

“According to Logan, the group was created with two primary directives: firstly, to counterbalance your Brotherhood and prevent violent conflict whenever possible; secondly, to serve as a reconnaissance group. To locate and rescue any mutants we came across who ran afoul of...misguided persons,” he explained. “The more I thought of it, the more it sounded like something you might have had interest in.” Had you stayed.

Charles shifted in his chair before continuing. “I’d hoped that this team was where we could make our compromise.”

The school was still going to happen. Not every mutant wanted to fight, and not every mutant was already a born-in-the-fire soldier ready to kill or be killed. Most only wanted to live their lives in peace, or were children who couldn’t—shouldn’t—be made into soldiers.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Magneto remained silent as Charles spoke of his idea. It began with a team he had established, one apparently known as the X-Men. How fitting. It seemed that he had created his own team to . . . counter the Brotherhood's activities? Had it really come to that where he required an entire team to go against the Brotherhood when they struck? He knew it would have had to, knowing all the tension and conflict that existed between the two of them in the future. Yet it also sounded like when needed, they could unite against a common enemy. At least right now, The Brotherhood and future X-men team seemed to share one common goal, and that was aiding mutants who required help. The Brotherhood however was not a safe haven for mutants, unlike the school that Charles was now reopening. But still. Magneto strove to raid labs that captured and experimented on mutants, he fought to protect them . . . that had always been his goal. To fight for mutant rights. It was the first objective of the X-Men that was more, troubling -- if that was even the right word to use.

For that seemed to be where the problem lay: their difference in approaches. If the X-Men was reflective of Charles' methods and beliefs, and the Brotherhood reflective of Magneto's, then where would be the happy median?"By violent conflict, I assume you mean any violence against humans," Magneto both stated and asked. For any violence that Magneto engaged in would be against certain humans. "Which means that in your actions of countering the Brotherhood, you are protecting humans." It was a fair deduction, for Charles did not share the same mindset Magneto did when it came to humans. They were the ones to blame for all mutants suffered on a daily basis, yet Charles believed in hoping that they would soon learn. And once again, it where their difference of opinions and approaches came in. But Magneto ensured that his tone was not defiant nor one that aimed to provoke a heated debate. He was merely putting things together, understanding the philosophies of his X-Men and how they so radically differed in certain areas from the Brotherhood's.

"I will admit that the second objective of your X-Men is not greatly different from that of the Brotherhood's." It was one that he was interested in. "It is the first that gives me concern," he added. For Magneto did not only believe in seeking out mutants to save them, but also to fight against humans in the process and that was where the disconnect lay among the two teams. "How do you propose we compromise this aspect of our methods?" Because as Magneto had previously said, he had no ideas of his own. He feared the continuous tension between them. The constant discourse. And even still, he was unwilling to sacrifice his fight for mutant freedom for the sake of Charles' hope and wait for peace. But again, he had come here to hopefully find that compromise with Charles, because as he said, he truly hated the strain this caused on their relationship.

[x]

“By violent conflict, I assume you mean any violence against humans,” Erik sought to clarify, his words both a statement and a question, all at once. “Which means that in your actions of countering the Brotherhood, you are protecting humans.”

From what he’d seen when he managed to speak with his older self, it had started that way. The X-Men’s primary goal was to protect innocent civilians—be they human or mutant—who were caught in the crossfire. But as the years passed, Erik slowly became more and more radical, until not even mutants were afforded any safety from the means he utilized to achieve his ends. The Magneto that might exist in thirty or forty years if they couldn’t find a middle ground was one that had haunted Charles’s nightmares ever since D.C.

“I will admit that the second objective of your X-Men is not greatly different from that of the Brotherhood’s,” he added. “It is the first that gives me concern. How do you propose we compromise this aspect of our methods?”

“When I said violent conflict,” Charles began, taking a deep breath, “I meant that the X-Men sought to protect the innocent civilians—human and mutant alike—who were caught in the crossfire. Not every human wishes to cause us harm, Erik. And those who do, those like Trask, can be taken down without murder or excessive violence.”

Just look at what Raven’s actions had wrought: by protecting Nixon and the others in that bunker, she proved to the world that not all mutants were after violence and destruction. Raven had set an example, one Charles was determined to follow.

“I know I can’t ask you to change your view of the world,” he added. “Not with anything other than my mutation and I will not betray the trust you’ve shown me by coming without the helmet.”

“I could, but I won’t,” the words he’d spoken at a CIA complex so many years ago echoing in his memory. Charles had broken that promise in D.C. when he’d used Erik to lift the piece of the stadium off of himself, but then again, the circumstances had been different. If Charles wanted Erik to work towards a middle ground, then he had to refrain from indulging his telepathy. No matter how tempting it was to brush up against Erik’s mind, still as stunning and magnetic as it ever was.

“But,” he continued, “I’d like you to consider if you’d like to head the X-Men part of this school. You can change the name, of course, and I will turn a blind eye to your violence so long as you keep the causalities to a bare minimum.”

If the Brotherhood and the X-Men were not battling each other, then they could settle all of their focus on rescuing mutants who fell prey to the worst of humanity. Charles could still remember Erik pitching in to train the children that week before Cuba. Erik had been a magnificent teacher, albeit an unconventional one. And Charles could accept violence in self-defense, so long as it wasn’t excessive and used only as a last resort.

“Is that a start you’re willing to work with?”

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik listened to Charles as he went on to clarify his meaning of the terms 'violent conflict'. Erik of course disagreed with Charles when he stated that men like Trask could be defeated without excessive violence. It was after all where they differed in their beliefs. But Erik did not argue with Charles' words. He had not come here to find a single glimpse of an opportunity where he could spark an argument and potentially leave with nothing being achieved. That was not the purpose of coming here. So Erik withheld his own personal contrasting views, and instead, continued to listen quietly to Charles, as he conceded to not being able to change his views of the world. They both knew that Charles was capable of doing that, but it went against his own ethical views and morals. Had his friend wished to do this, Erik was certain he would have done so years ago. But he knew better than to think Charles would do that; which was precisely why he had come here without any protection. And why he would not bother hiding anything. Erik simply gave a very small nod in acknowledgment to Charles' words about not betraying his trust.

It wasn't until Charles proposed his idea that Erik paused in all other thought, focusing his attention solely on the words Charles spoke. He looked at Charles intently, his mind mulling over the suggestion. Erik would not say a flat out 'no' to such an idea, for it would go against his better judgment to immediately reject it. He was here to compromise a solution, but even with that in mind, he could so easily say yes either. It was something that required much thought and discussion. "Now that does sound rather ideal," Erik finally said with an ever so slight smile. He was not sarcastic in his words, but it was clear that he was deliberating. "I fear that your ability to turn a blind eye is far easier said than done." It was not an insult to Charles; far from it. Erik was merely accepting and understanding his friend's countering point of view; Charles was a pacifist. He did not condone the over use of violence. Could he really just turn a blind eye, and trust that Magneto would minimize his own actions against humans?

"Let us say that hypothetically, I accept this position of heading this group of mutants." Who would really, be equivalent to the Brotherhood. Besides, that sounded far better than M-Men or L-Men. "What is it you would expect of me?" Because it seemed far too easy for Magneto to come and use this place as a base for his Brotherhood. He wanted to know where the true compromise was; what Charles would expect him to do -- or not do. For only with that, could Erik truly understand what this agreement fully entailed. And Erik would be lying if he said he did not find the idea intriguing, especially as it would allow he and Charles to work together . . . something that he had always wanted. Yet at the same time, Magneto's actions were more, aggressive than his friend's. So how much would he have to minimize it? How withheld would he have to be? They both believed that mutant freedom could be achieved in very different ways . . . which was why Erik had asked the question of what Charles' expectations were.

[x]

“Now that does sound rather ideal,” Erik conceded, smiling slightly. His deliberation on the offer was obvious, and Charles tried not to squirm as he waited for the other shoe to drop. “I fear that your ability to turn a blind eye is far easier said than done.”

Charles thought back to the few scant months they’d known each other in 1962. He thought of Russia, of Erik rushing into the home of senior Soviet official in order to get at Emma Frost, of the soldiers he ensnared in barbed wire and the ones he’d knocked into unconsciousness. He thought of Frost, pinned to the bedframe as Erik carefully choked her until her diamond form shattered. Erik, pushing Sean off the satellite dish. Erik, pushing the coin through Shaw’s head while Charles held the man in place.

Not as much as you fear, Charles thought, swallowing the words.

“Let us say that, hypothetically, I accept this position of heading this group of mutants,” Erik continued. “What is it you would expect of me?”

“Often I locate mutants in danger from one thing or another,” Charles began. “It takes me a great deal of time to respond.”

He couldn’t simply take the helmet off and run to the bunker with Hank in tow; his wheelchair slowed his reaction time far more than he wanted to admit, and it was another reason he’d been so desperate for his legs. That they’d come at the price of his telepathy had been all at once a blessing and the sort of karma Charles hadn’t been aware he’d raked up.

“So I would expect you to react with the same speed I cannot,” he explained. “I would expect you to put the welfare of the mutants you’d be rescuing first and foremost—in other words, if it’s a choice between getting them out alive and unharmed and killing the ones who held them captive, I would expect for you to choose the safety of our fellow mutants over your need for retaliation.”

That was his primary expectation. If Erik couldn’t manage to shelve his rage and desire to destroy even the barest hint of a threat, then there was truly no way to reconcile their differences. And that might just crush Charles more than anything else.

“I would also expect for you to treat our human staff members with at least a modicum of respect—and there will be more than a few of them,” Charles warned. “Not many mutants have chosen to enter the teaching profession and Hank and I have been incredibly selective with who we’ve taken on.”

Erik’s aggression would need to be checked, of course; Charles couldn’t play foil to him all the time, unless Erik could be persuaded to abandon his helmet entirely. One step at a time, though. The man hadn’t even agreed to the compromise yet; they were still in negotiations.

“Any other expectations can be brought up and discussed once we’ve finally settled on a compromise, of course.”

There were so many details that would have to be worked out if Erik agreed to work with him rather than against him. It would be okay, though; if Erik was willing to tone down his violence, even just a bit, Charles would be happy. He swore he’d be.