The Absence of Empathy

[x]

As a telepath, Charles was well aware of the true nature of the world. His childhood had been full of false faces and hidden truths, of snide remarks made with the flippant disregard of his family and dark curses muttered under the breaths of the serving staff. Every cruel thought, the sort people would rarely say aloud, was heard as though it had been screamed in his ears. He had never believed his parents’ lies, not when he could hear the truth clearly from their minds. People were petty, vain, selfish, and cruel.

Kurt Marko was the last straw. Kurt Marko, with his easy smiles and perfectly correct words, was an unrepentant scum-sucker of the first degree. His mind was an open book to Charles, who could see all of his true intentions, all of his honest opinions about Brian Xavier and Sharon Xavier...and Charles himself. And Sharon, his lovely, grieving mother, had been taken in immediately by Kurt’s honeyed words. It was disgusting. It was infuriating. And Charles was in no way going to put up with any of it.

So he had reached into his mother’s mind, driving out any idea of marrying the greedy bastard. He did the same to Kurt, driving the man away from his mother and family fortune by inflicting the same amount of intolerable pain as his father had in his final moments. When he’d finished, the eleven-year-old had been stunned by the sheer amount of power he possessed. And really, it had all snowballed from there...

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

Locating Shaw was simple enough. What Charles hadn’t expected was the presence of another telepath. Emma Frost, he gleaned from her mind mere seconds before her shields slammed up. She was good, he’d admit, but she was also a bit slow. In the seconds it took her to respond to his presence, he’d already pulled most of her life story. So she could turn herself to diamond and her telepathic talents were more defensive than offensive. Oh, she could even extend her personal shields to those around, shutting him off from direct contact with Shaw.

“I’ve lost Shaw,” he reported. He couldn't help but grin at that; he'd never really had much of a challenge before. “There’s something blocking me; someone like me is on that ship."

“Like you?”

“A telepath,” he clarified.

Then she tried to get into his mind. The shielding was a nice trick, one he could honestly applaud, but his mind was off limits. Charles focused his own telepathy, aiming at a single spot in her mental shields, and drove it in like a heated lance. The shields shattered like cheap glass and Charles once again had unfettered access to Shaw.

Twin tornadoes appeared out of nowhere, and the resulting mini panic had someone bumping into in him. For a moment, Charles lost his advantage. Spitting a curse, he immediately went to reassert his hold, but Emma had recovered and was fighting back with far more strength than he’d initially given her credit for.

“Charles, get inside!”

Play along with Moira or take Emma down? Charles bit back a growl of frustration as he lessened his efforts against Emma and let Moira lead him away from the deck. Emma had proven herself a decent obstacle, but he knew what their immediate plans were. Losing them this time would not be a hardship; Moira, on the other hand, he still had some use for and therefore needed to ensure that she was willing to play along with him.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik had been embarrassingly disposed of as he was quite literally tossed out into the sea. The moment he had spent years waiting for had been upon him, yet he had underestimated Shaw's strength, and overestimated his own. The moment Shaw had grabbed him, Erik felt all the memories surface in his mind. The ones of the camp; filled with pain and torture and the fuel Erik used to hunt down Shaw. He was well aware that this was not something his mother would want him to do. That she had always been a peaceful woman, telling him to be the better person and not engage in discourse. Yet that had not saved them. Being submissive had not saved her. Erik had failed her, so perhaps the person he was most angry with, was himself. Though a part of him believed that even if he had moved that coin, Shaw would not have shown mercy. He still would have killed his mother. So really, it was futile.

Erik remained under water for some time, frustrated with having let this opportunity so quickly pass him by. As he raised his head above water, he felt the uncontrollable anger fill him at what just happened. At seeing the man who had created him in his very presence, and trying to foolishly stab him with a dagger. Really? A dagger! Was Erik so foolish that he had not planned this any better? Well, he would compensate for that now. Using the rage within him, he lifted the anger and began to move it toward Shaw's ridiculous yacht. The metal chains cut through the boat, ripping it violently and while there was a small tinge of guilt for whoever else was on there and uninvolved in his personal vendetta against Shaw, it was not enough to stop him. The anger was too much. He felt it burning in his body and all he wanted was to see Shaw's lifeless corpse floating in the water. The murderous thought alone would have scared Erik, if he was in better control of his senses and emotions right now. But unfortunately for Shaw and the others, he was not.

He felt something submerge in the water, and quickly realized that Shaw was now in a submarine. The fear of losing him from his grasp was so great, that Erik embarked on another foolish mission. He too submerged himself in water in attempt to follow it. Logic failed him for otherwise, he would have realized that he would be unable to hold his breath for this long. That it could be hours before the submarine stopped. That he could basically drown himself in this fool's errand. But it did not stop him. He kept a hold of that submarine because the source of all his rage and fury was on it, and he needed to bring this all to an end. He needed to avenge his mother. He needed to kill Shaw.

[x]

They’d ushered him half-way down the stairs when a sharp presence caught Charles off-guard. It hurt, sharp and dangerous as needles, but it was the most exquisite sort of pain, like nothing he’d ever truly felt before. He leaned against the wall, fingers at his temple as he tried to regain his breath.

“Ah, ah-ah-ha, stop, stop!”

“Charles, are you okay?”

“There’s someone else out there,” he answered, immediately turning to open a nearby door and force his way back up to the deck. Moira might have her uses as an ally, but he’d be damned if he was going to let a mind that stunning get away.

He wasn’t at all disappointed, catching sight of massive chains lifting up out of the water and attacking Shaw’s vessel. A telekinetic? Or a more specific power, perhaps? Whatever the mutation responsible, Charles felt a bit breathless at the awesome display of pure power.

“There,” he intoned, pointing to the sight.

The chains wreaked havoc on the ship, tearing it to pieces with such sheer force that Charles could hardly believe his eyes. The existence of mutants was one thing, but the existence of a mutant so powerful was another entirely. He reached out to the mind, observing it from a distance. A cacophony of emotions of varying intensities: anger, guilt, self-loathing, rage, all undermined by a thin current of love and uncertainty. A bit disappointing, that last bit, but they were all very human reactions.

And the idiot was going to drown himself at this rate. The mutant was going after the submarine (and fuck Shaw very much for having a bloody submarine) but he lacked the leverage or the sheer strength necessary to take down a fully-functional submarine.

“Let it go,” Charles shouted, more out of frustration than actually hoping the words would reach their target. “You have to let it go!”

Charles let out a half-smothered shriek of frustration before he whipped around, shoving past the humans to get to a point where he could jump off and keep the idiot from extinguishing that perfectly beautiful mind of his. He tore off his coat and cardigan and yanked off his shoes before jumping off the boat. Oh, if he could a cold from this, beautiful mind or not, this moron would suffer with him.

He’d timed it perfectly, practically diving in on top of the stranger. Charles immediately grabbed at him, wrapping his arms as solidly around the mutant’s arms and torso as he could manage and plunged into the other’s mind.

You can’t; you’ll drown. I know what this means to you, but you’re going to die. Erik, calm your mind.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik refused to acknowledge the necessity for air, knowing that if he lost him now, he could very well lose Shaw forever. The thought that he was so willing to die for this came as a slight surprise, but not enough to sway his mind from it. Suddenly, he felt someone grab him, which caused him lose focus and . . . well, become utterly confused. Not only by the random presence of a stranger who was trying to stop him, but because of the voices he heard in his head. Or a voice. A very distinct one that he had never heard before. It urged him to let it go; telling him that he would drown. And if that didn't make enough sense, the voice, the man, knew his name. Erik was unable to look at him from his angle, and fought against his words. He did not want to calm his mind, he wanted Shaw. The desperate need for revenge crippling all rationality. But this man was doing something to him. What, he could not define. Whatever it was, was enough to make him stop following the submarine, as he watched the lights fade away into the abyss of the ocean.

Now that he had lost his target, Erik's focus became getting air into his lungs. With the man still holding on to him, they swap up to the surface, and Erik gasped for breath, simultaneously ushering the man off of him. "Get off of me!" He snapped angrily. He was not often so rude and short tempered, but in the midst of his anger -- emotions that arouse at the sight of Shaw -- he was still waiting for them to fade away. "Get off!" He shouted again, pushing the man off though instead of swimming away, he stayed near him. After all, Erik had no where else to go. "Who are you?" He questioned, his voice ever so slightly becoming less hostile and now filled with curiosity and, not fear. But suspicion. "You were inside my head," he added, knowing that it was an obvious statement but at the same time, felt the need to vocally acknowledge it so that he would not seem crazy for hearing random voices.

[x]

Dragging Erik up was only made easier by the other’s sudden realization that he required oxygen in his lungs. They broke the surface of the water and Erik immediately began shoving him off.

“Get off me,” he snapped in between gasps for air. “Get off!”

The only consolation was that Erik wasn’t swimming away from him. Although, honestly, where would he go? As far as Charles could tell, Erik had been on this suicide mission for the last half of his life. No family, no friends, no place to go; Erik was the sort of person who could end up dead in a gutter somewhere and no one would care. Which really was such a shame, as Charles had never come across a brighter or more engaging mind.

“Who are you? You were inside my head,” Erik said, suspicion and curiosity coloring his words and flooding Charles’s mind.

Oh, pointing out the obvious. For such a shining example of a higher evolved mind, Charles was a bit disappointed to find it capable of such limited functions. Perhaps he should just chalk it up to stress and semi-isolation and hope for better results come the morrow.

“You have your tricks, I have mine,” Charles snapped in response, treading water as he sent their location to Moira and Platt.

There was so much potential in Erik’s mind, no matter what asinine prater it had produced in the last few minutes. Charles had to remind himself to breathe in the face of it all. Oh, Erik’s mind was proving to be a shining example of why ordinary human minds just couldn’t be enough; it was like comparing gravel and jewels—there was simply no contest.

“I’m like you, Erik, just calm your mind!”

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik did not fail to notice that the man did not give his name. So it was a little unsettling to hear him say his name. For it left them on uneven ground. Though, Erik supposed that was an understatement since the man had gotten inside his head so who know how much knowledge he attained from his -- how had he put it -- tricks. Erik felt his anger continue to ebb away as the man went on to say that he was like him. He was not shocked at what Erik could do, unlike most others he had encountered all his life. The man seemed rather . . . well, expecting or accepting, or maybe both. Erik continued to heavily breathe, still taking in air which felt incredibly refreshing. The man was like him. He could do things that could not be explained. Or well, at least Erik had not come across anyone who could explain them.

All he knew was that his powers best manifested when he was angry, yet this man had been able to get into his mind with such ease. Once again, it was unsettling. And yet, Erik could not deny an overwhelming comfort. To know that there was someone like him. To know that he was not isolated in his powers. "I thought I was alone," he admitted, his voice calmer. He did not say it to evoke sympathy from anyone. The man could read his thoughts anyway, so perhaps even speaking was redundant. But perhaps it too took energy and strength for him to get inside his head. So vocalizing his thoughts may actually not be a bad thing. Erik already felt in awe over meeting another. And he could only hope that when they were finally out of the water, he would not be too quick to dismiss his company for Erik still felt a great deal of curiosity and intrigue for this man.

[x]

Charles hadn’t left Erik’s mind, clinging to it like a piece of driftwood in a shipwreck. He gleaned Erik’s history from his mind. The man was a survivor of the Holocaust, it seemed, and had a history with Shaw that went all the way back to those dark days. Charles frowned at the sheer amount of abuse Shaw had put Erik through; it reminded him far too much of the sort of slimy ambition he’d seen in Kurt before he’d forced the man away from Westchester indefinitely.

In other words, Charles had a few ideas about what he was going to do with Shaw’s mind once he got a hold of it.

“I thought I was alone,” Erik gasped out, his voice and mind much calmer than when Charles had first gone in after him.

So had he. Realistically, he had known there really wasn’t anyway he could be utterly alone in the world, and tonight had been the zenith of all of his wildest fantasies. Not only he was he assuredly not the only mutant in existence, but he wasn’t even the only telepath. Even if their precise talents were different, Frost was still a powerful telepath in her own right. He would certainly relish the opportunity to pick her brain, as it were.

“You’re not alone, Erik,” he assured with a nearly feral grin. “You are not alone.”

For better or for worse, there could be no more turning back. Erik validated every hypothesis that Charles had ever had involving the mutant brain. Even for all of its humanity, Charles had never seen a more beautiful sight. It was actually rather like looking into the sun.

The Coast Guard ship finally reached them, and the CIA operatives threw down a couple of life preservers firmly affixed to ropes. Charles grabbed one and shoved the other in Erik’s direction.

“Shall we?”

[Erik Lehnsherr]

To be reassured that he was not alone, once again, filled him with this instant comfort and hope. For what, he was unsure. Perhaps it was the mere relief that he would not be going through life alone. For once his mission was complete, what then? He had no other ambitions and it worried him. He knew his mother had always wanted the best for him. Wanted him to be well educated and get a decent paying job that he enjoyed. And in a more traditional sense, had wanted him to settle down and have a family. Practically none of that was in Erik's future; he'd accepted that. But at least now, it did not seem he had to be alone. And that was a comfort he would gladly welcome, at least for the time being. He took the life preserver as the man pushed one toward his way as they made their way up on the ship.

Had he not known for certain that this man was a mutant, then he would have been far more hesitant to go on a ship full of strangers than he already was. Were these people also like them? Did they too have gifts?One of them passed Erik a towel and he wiped his face before ruffling it in his hair to help dry that as well. He watched the others only for a moment, before turning to look at the man. "Who are you all?" He asked, feeling more comfortable asking him, rather than the others. He didn't know the man's name, or what organization these people were a part of. He only knew that they just happened to be out here when Shaw was, and that he just happened to have powers, and that was surely no coincidence.

[x]

The relief and hope that flooded Erik’s mind nearly made Charles go lax with contentment. He’d never felt a mind so deeply before; was it just that Erik was a mutant, or was it simply the adrenaline still working its way through his veins? Charles would have to think more on it later, as he had to focus on not melting into a metaphorical puddle from all of the hope and comfort Erik was projecting.

They climbed back onto the ship, and Moira and Platt were waiting with blankets and towels to stave off any traces of hypothermia. It was a bit pleasing to know that the CIA operatives weren’t completely hopeless. Rare bits of fool’s gold, they were. But Charles was in a significantly better mood, his mind curling up against Erik’s like an old house cat against a heater.

“Who are you all,” Erik asked, and it took Charles a moment to pull himself out of Erik’s mind long enough to realize he hadn’t actually introduced himself.

“Apologies,” he said, holding out his hand as he paused in toweling himself off. “My name is Charles Xavier. They,” he gestured, “are Agents Platt and MacTaggert. CIA.”

Which he still didn’t particularly care for, but needs must. They weren’t completely without their uses; they had led him straight to Erik, after all.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

The man apologized and then extended his hand in a greeting as he offered his name. Charles Xavier. Erik returned the polite gesture, extending his own hand and shaking the man's before him. The man that now had a name. Had Charles not spoken Erik's name previously, then Erik would have continued the formality of introductions. But it seemed futile. And he was not going to be redundant by telling his name to Charles. Though when the mutant introduced the others, Erik turned to look at them, lowering his hand from having been shaking Charles. He did not approach each one with the same greeting, though he did acknowledge the two agents, giving a small nod as their names were too revealed. "Erik Lehnsherr," he said, speaking to them. Did they too possess powers? Erik wanted to ask but also did not want to expose Charles if he was not one to reveal his gift often. Or if was selective about who he revealed it to -- perhaps only other mutants.

He turned his gaze back to Charles, feeling more comfortable speaking to him because . . . well, because he was like him. For all these years, Erik had thought he was alone. And suddenly, out of no where, came another like him. There was still a slightly unsettling feeling about having had someone inside his head, but that was only because Erik had suppressed so many memories and emotions, he feared what would happen should they ever surface. "Thank you," he said, realizing that his surprise had deterred him from expressing his gratitude. Even though Charles had interjected, he had ultimately saved Erik's from himself. "For making me see reason." Despite whatever methods Charles used. He kept his gaze on Charles so that he would know that Erik was being sincere in his gratitude. Soon enough however, he decided to make the conversation less one on one, he began to avert his gaze between Charles and the others. "What does the CIA want with Shaw?" For surely it was no coincidence that they just happened to be here when Shaw was.

[x]

Touch-based telepathy was something that Charles knew logically existed—it wasn’t his limitation, however, as he didn’t even really need to be in the same building as someone in order to sense their mind or toy with it. But when Erik took his hand, Charles’s telepathy gave a jolt the likes of which he hadn’t really experienced before—odd, considering he was nowhere near touch-starved and had engaged in plenty of skin-to-skin contact with hundreds of other people, but none of it could compare. The entirety of Erik’s mind was open to Charles, whether the man realized it or not, but Erik was still such a mystery.

He gave his name to Platt and Moira, and Charles smiled as Erik’s mind evaluated the situation. Oh—how sweet, Erik didn’t want to risk outing Charles. This whole situation was getting rather dangerous; if Charles wasn’t careful, he was going to become far more invested in the other mutant than he’d ever intended. And investment could be a dangerous disadvantage with another telepath in the game.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, as if he’d just realized that he’d been a precious few moments’ away from a watery grave. “For making me see reason.”

Oh, Erik was such an earnest person! His sincerity, his desire to keep secrets he wasn’t even sure were secrets, everything about him was relatively straightforward. Erik had one of the nicest minds Charles had ever come across, and the temptation to keep snuggled up against it was one Charles found himself unable to resist.

“What does the CIA want with Shaw?”

Charles shrugged, mentally imparting upon Moira and Platt that they were desperately needed elsewhere on the ship and that they should leave him and Erik alone.

“Officially,” he began after the two agents hastily excused themselves, “they want Shaw because he’s been implicated in delivering sensitive government documents into enemy hands. However, I really don’t care what the CIA wants with Shaw. They could want him for tax evasion and it wouldn’t make one bit of difference to me.”

Shaw wasn’t really Charles’s concern. He could be planning the President’s assassination and Charles wouldn’t honestly care beyond the affect such a plot’s success would have on traffic. No, Charles was more interested in the mutants: Emma Frost, the one who’d made those tornadoes, and whoever else Shaw had in his employ.

“Also, no need to worry about Platt and Moira,” Charles offered. “They aren’t mutants, but they do know about us and they are well aware of my telepathy.”

Moira, at least, would have words with him later about how he dismissed them when they returned to dry land. He hadn’t actually decided yet if sitting through the mock lecture would be worth it in the long run or if he should just nip it in the bud before she got herself too worked up about it.

“And you’re welcome. Though, it would have been a travesty for a mind as stunning as yours to go out like that.”

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik had to admit that he felt more at ease when Charles dismissed the other two agents. While Erik may not know Charles well, for he was still a stranger to him, there was an undeniable comfort he had found in the man. For they shared a bond that Erik had not thought possible: they both possessed incredible powers. That, and the fact that Charles -- unknowing of Erik -- had risked his life to save him from a fool's mission . . . well, that certainly played an integral role in allowing Erik to feel at ease in Charles presence. He went on to answer his question, explaining why the CIA was involved with Shaw and what their cause was to attempt to apprehend him. Erik did not care about his illegal dealings that the government was pursuing him for. But what came as more of a surprise, was that neither did Charles. He openly admitted that he cared nothing for the CIA's business with Sebastian. So that of course begged the question of why he was here, which Erik would soon ask.

Before he could, Charles offered an answer to Erik's unspoken question. It took him a moment to quickly think whether he had asked it or not -- for he was quite unused to people being able to know what he was thinking. He often kept himself guarded and generally unreadable, but Charles obviously had a great power that allowed him to delve into the mind of another. Erik would have to grow used to that, though so far, he found it intriguing more than anything else. "And they are accepting of your powers?" Erik asked, another unfamiliar occurrence for him. Not only had he encountered another like him, but he now also encountered humans who were accepting of his gift. Erik did not believe that was common. For the two agents seemed rather comfortable and lacking fear of Charles . . . or at least that was what Erik could read on the surface of their expressions and body language. Upon Charles' next words, Erik couldn't help but give a slight smile of amusement; an expression that he had not made in a very long time. "I imagine you have seen many minds with your exceptional abilities," he began to say. Praise where it was rightfully due.

"So I take your words as quite the compliment," he said, almost teasingly, though it was true. Not that Erik needed his ego inflated at the moment . . . but his mother had always taught him the value of humility. So he would not grow too arrogant from it. "I also have to say that you're the first person to say that to me," he added on a lighter note, still in slight jest, mixed with some truth. If ever he was praised, it was certainly not for his stunning mind. And coming from a telepath, that was indeed something welcoming to hear. Letting the brief moment of teasing and jest linger, Erik's smile slowly began to fade as his mind returned to the one obsession that had consumed him for many years. "Why are you with the CIA?" If his goals differed from theirs, why was he now seemingly allied with them? Did he want Shaw for something else? Charles had seemed to show clear disinterest for the man. So what was it that he wanted with the very man that Erik vowed to kill?

[x]

“And they are accepting of your powers?”

Charles shrugged again. “Platt, at the very least, is in total awe of my telepathy. Moira’s not as easily impressed, but she hasn’t tried to keep me out of her mind, so I’d count that as a victory.”

Though, he didn’t exactly need their approval. Even if he did, there wasn’t much stopping him from simply reaching into their minds and forcing them to accept his mutation. It was much more convenient when they simply went along with it, though; planting thoughts and feelings and ideas, though great fun, could be exhausting depending on what exactly he was aiming to achieve.

“I imagine you have seen any minds with your exceptional abilities,” Erik responded in kind, and Charles preened a bit at the praise. Exceptional wasn’t the most common word he heard with regards to his telepathy. “So I take your words as quite the compliment. I also have to say that you’re the first person to say that to me.”

Something they had in common, then. And what a shame, really. Clearly, the world had no idea what true beauty was when it occurred.

“As you should,” he said with a grin. “I may have encountered many minds, but none have even come close to the brilliance of yours.”

“Why are you with the CIA?”

“They sought me out,” Charles said. “Well, Moira sought me out, to be precise. She’d witnessed an exchange between Shaw and a U.S. military official before a teleporter took him across the U.S. in the span of a few minutes. Obviously, her superiors didn’t believe a word of it, so she located an expert on genetic mutation.”

She had come to him following his defense, tracked him down to a local pub and sparked his interest with her memories of Emma Frost and her diamond shell, of the teleporter and his demonic appearance. Really, in the face of that, Shaw could spend the rest of his life as a drooling idiot, for all Charles cared. Frost and the teleporter—and now the bloke who could create tornadoes—were Charles’s primary focus.

“I went along with her once I looked insider her mind and found her memories of Shaw’s henchmen. I’ve spent my life alone, adrift in a sea of ordinary humans. When the opportunity to encounter others like me presented itself, I would have been a fool not to take it.”

Charles knew of Erik’s suicide mission. He knew what Shaw had put him through as a child (and really, the man had aged remarkably well, which was something that would require further investigation) and had felt every moment of Erik’s agony. And such motivation for the sake of a human, even if it was Erik’s own mother. He had no idea how to connect with that; his own mother had been distant at best and completely absent at worst. The staff had cared more about him. Had someone killed the maid because he’d been unable to tap into his powers, would he have responded as Erik had? It was difficult to say; Charles had been a very different person in 1944.

“Didn’t expect you, though,” he admitted.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik listened as Charles explained that one of the agents had been in awe of his gift, and the other hadn't tried to keep him out of her mind. Awe and impressed. Those were two words that Erik could perhaps use to describe how he too felt about Charles' powers. Maybe it was a combination of never having encountered another mutant as well as the actual abilities Charles had, of what he could do, but either way, Erik was impressed. "Is that even possible?" He found himself asking. Could someone keep Charles out of their mind? Not that Erik wanted to know for any other reason other than genuine curiosity. It was also his way of asking a question that may perhaps prompt a further explanation of Charles' powers. For while he knew that the mutant was inside his head, Erik knew that he was completely unaware of the extent of Charles' powers. He had a feeling there was a lot more to it and was intrigued to learn more of it.

Charles confirmed that he should take it as a compliment, and even went further to describe his mind as brilliant. Once again, the words caused a smile to play on Erik's lips, for he was not used to hearing such words be used to describe anything past his abilities. Even then, such positive words of his powers were also rare -- granted, he had not publicly used them for anything other than hunting down Shaw so those who were exposed to it were often being threatened or killed by them. "Brilliance," he repeated, a bit of a jokingly arrogant smile and tone of voice. "You are too kind, my friend," he stated, finding the word 'friend' fall rather easily from his tongue. It was not a word he used commonly -- if ever. And yet, he found strong comfort in solidifying whatever sudden yet strong bond seemed to immediately exist between them. While he was not a man used to vocalizing his emotions and thoughts, he felt a strong relief of pressure from having to do so . . . perhaps because Charles could in fact see into his mind, so there was on need for Erik to verbally reveal a great deal when Charles could potentially clearly understand it and maybe even him.

He then went on to answer Erik's question about his motivations for being with the CIA if his interest did not lay in Shaw. His reason made perfect sense. Erik had only caught a glimpse of those on the boat when he briefly confronted Shaw, but his mind had not had the time to process that they were like him as well. Not between the time he had been thrown into the water, attempted to take hold of the boat, and then meet Charles. One of them was a teleporter? It made Erik wonder just how many others like them there were out there. Charles explained that he was an expert on genetics and mutation. The statement made Erik want to ask him so much about what caused these powers in them, for he knew nothing of the cause. He only knew that he had to have been born with it, and that it uncontrollably manifested when he was a boy. It sometimes still was not always in his control for it was often fueled by his anger -- mostly anger for Shaw. But Erik was also aware that perhaps this was not the time to question the cause of their mutations and such. He hoped that there would be an opportunity for that; that his company with Charles was not short term.

"I can certainly understand, even relate to that," he told him. Erik could most definitely understand the need to want to meet others like him. While Erik had not been searching for other mutants, he would not have rejected their company. Such as now. He had thought that nothing could have ever ceased him from his hunt for Shaw . . . yet Charles had. Granted, it had initially been a forceful stopping of Erik's foolish attempt, but for the first time in a long time, Erik's mind was filled with thoughts other than those of Shaw. And it felt, dare he say, refreshing. It allowed him to feel at ease and not so alone or filled with rage. This was a comfort he had never expected to have. "What will you do when you encounter them?" Erik asked. He asked this question for a few reasons. The first being, once again, basic curiosity of what Charles' intentions were. The other reason being a slightly more selfish one. Erik wanted Shaw dead. He wondered if Charles had some sort of endgame when it came to the mutants Shaw had accompanied himself with.

Charles spoke of how he didn't expect to meet him, and that caused the smile to reform on Erik's lips. "That makes two of us," he admitted. Never in all his life would he have expected to meet Charles under such circumstances . . . or any circumstances really. "But this is most certainly a welcome turn of events," Erik admitted honestly. He paused for a moment, the smile slowly fading from his lips as he looked down for a moment, before meeting Charles' gaze once more. "How much do you know of Shaw and I?" While this wasn't a conversation he often had or wanted to have really, he knew he had to ask. Erik was not proud of his obsessive hunt for Shaw, and even less proud of his intentions to kill him. But he had to avenge his mother. He had to may Shaw pay for what he had done.

[x]

“Is that even possible?” It was genuine curiosity, and Erik wanted to know more about what Charles could do. (Oh, Erik’s mind was gorgeous and Charles wasn’t ever leaving it.)

“Theoretically yes,” Charles answered. “It stands to reason that there must be some who are able to keep me out—at least in part. I doubt they could keep me out for very long, though. Shaw’s telepath is the biggest challenge I’ve had since I properly manifested.”

As he spoke, he kept his grip on Erik’s mind, taking in every piece of it as though it were an interactive museum. Memories, emotions, everything—Erik was surprisingly adept at languages, which was an added bonus. Intelligent, resourceful—oh, he knew how to play chess!

“Brilliance,” Erik repeated, and a lovely arrogant smile spread across his face. (Christ, Charles was just shy of swooning. Swooning. Things were getting out of hand unbelievably fast; he had to pull back, if he still had any viable sense of self-preservation.) “You are too kind, my friend.”

Oh God, it was too late. Self-preservation flew out the proverbial window, and Charles was utterly damned. He’d gone in completely blind; Erik Lehnsherr came out of nowhere and he had been thoroughly unprepared to deal with him. This wasn’t good. There was another telepath to contend with, Charles had no idea as to the full extent of her powers, and this was going to be a distraction Charles wasn’t quite sure he could afford.

“I can certainly understand, even relate to that,” he said, responding to Charles’s explanation of why he was with the CIA. “What will you do when you encounter them?”

Charles shrugged, trying to calm his racing heart beat and regain control of himself.

“Firstly, I need to do something about the telepath. She’s strong, but I’m not sure exactly how strong. I doubt she’ll prove to be more than a minor irritation, though. As for the teleporter and the one who can manifest tornadoes, I’m fairly certain they’ll go with whomever is stronger. Therefore,” Charles concluded, “I’ll have to prove myself the more viable option.”

“How much do you know of Shaw and I?”

Charles locked eyes with Erik, a slightly arrogant smile on his face. “Everything.”

Emma had forced Erik’s worst memories of Shaw to the forefront of the metalokinetic’s mind. Charles had been made privy to all of the pain Erik had endured, all of the sorrow and anguish. He had witnessed the murder of Erik’s mother, Erik’s separation from his parents at the gates of Auschwitz, the time he spent locked up and at Shaw’s mercy.

Really, it was enough to inspire the same holy fury in Charles that it had sparked in Erik: Charles wanted Shaw eliminated, snuffed out. He wondered briefly what the consequences would be if he reached into Shaw’s mind and turned it off. It wasn’t something he’d tried before, but there was a first time for everything. And Shaw had made himself a dangerous enemy this night; Charles was not a mutant to trifled with, after all, and surely Shaw’s mind was just as easy to toy with as those of others.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Erik was rather intrigued to hear Charles' answer. He found all this rather fascinating, not having encountered anyone else like him. To have crossed paths with someone like Emma, and now Charles . . . it was truly such a contrasting experience. Both possessed the same abilities, yet one granted him comfort while the other had used her power as a weapon against him. Erik only wished he could offer something helpful from his rather brief encounter with the others. But whatever he knew, was extremely minimal compared to all that Charles must already know. He just kept listening to the telepath, soaking in all the information he was giving him . . . still utterly intrigued by knowing there was someone else out there like him. No. Not only knowing someone like him to had powers, but rather, befriending him. "And what will you do to show yourself as the more viable option?" Reveal his power? Kill Shaw? Oh how he hoped that privilege would be given to him as it had become his life's mission. It felt almost foolish to ask such questions for Charles seemed to know everything about him yet Erik knew nothing about Charles.

He wanted to know what his plan was though . . . and on the more selfish part of it, wished to know if it would benefit Erik's own ultimate goal to avenge his mother. Charles then answered his question with one word, yet one word was all that was needed. Everything. Erik knew that once again, that should make him feel unsettled . . . however it seemed to have the opposite effect on him. He felt, oddly relieved. For it meant he would not have to justify his actions nor explain his motives. Charles knew. Everything apparently. And part of that relief that swept over Erik, was due to not only Charles' power, but also, the nature of the man. Had the mutant been any different, then it may not have exactly been relief that Erik was experiencing. He remained silent on thought, trying not to dwell on every little detail that Charles may now know about. After several moments of silence, he spoke once again. "Then you will know that my motives extend beyond the realm of what the CIA deem as legal." For he wished to kill him. Erik withheld the shame from his voice, knowing his mother would not approve of it, but the consumption of rage and anger had been too much for him to endure, and he needed an outlet. Shaw was his outlet.

His words also further revealed that while he wished to stay with Charles, he was less willing to stay with the CIA in case they proved to hinder his goals. On the flip side, they could also assist him, without knowing his true intentions. Granted, Charles withheld it from them. He knew there was no point not asking the questions that came to mind, for Charles obviously already knew them. "I am unsure whether it will be beneficial or a hindrance to remain with them." And he couldn't risk the latter. He was so close, coming into contact with him tonight. "You on the other hand, I find myself more compelled to remain with." He was strong, he was like him, he possessed an incredible gift, and . . . for the first time in years, Erik had found a sense of comfort and reassurance. Something about the very nature of the man allowed Erik to feel a sense of calm despite all the rage within him. Erik now knew that he was not alone, with that awareness, he felt it would be difficult to part from such company.

[x]

Erik’s thoughts compared him to Frost, with a much more favorable take on Charles, which made the telepath preen a bit. Frost’s choice of companion was lack-luster at best; what little Charles had been able to touch of Shaw’s mind had been comparable to fool’s gold. The man was completely zoned on his own power which gave him all the intelligence of a common garden hose. Disappointing, really, but the moon paled in comparison to the sun, after all, and he still couldn’t get over just how stunning Erik’s mind was.

“And what will you do to show yourself as the more viable option?”

The thought of killing Shaw crossed Erik’s mind and Charles’s expression fell just a bit flat at that; Erik wanted to be the one to kill Shaw. As blasé as Charles found murder (it didn’t really serve much of a point, and it was something he preferred to leave to lesser beings), he was more than willing to let Shaw die by someone else’s hands. By Erik’s though...Charles honestly thought a great deal more of Erik than that, but it would keep that mind brilliant, then Charles was willing to let it slide.

“Murder’s a bit of a step down, really,” Charles responded with a flippant tone. “Just killing the man won’t mean much to his peons. No, it needs to be proven without so much as a trace of doubt that I am stronger. Still annoying, really, and I could simply rework their minds to accept me, but there’s the other telepath to consider. Her strength is shielding, that much is obvious. So long as she has her diamond form, she can pose a potential threat.”

Apparently a god-complex was a trait telepaths seemed to share, given the fact that Frost was much the same. Which would be irritating, no doubt about that, but he could manage. The teleporter and the wind-maker would be simple enough to manipulate.

“Then you will know that my motives extend beyond the realm of what the CIA deems as legal,” Erik pointed out after Charles revealed his knowledge of the man’s mission.

“You want to murder Shaw,” Charles stated. “I really have no issue with that, of course; death is perhaps just a bit too good for him, though.”

“I am unsure whether it will be beneficial or a hindrance to remain with them,” he confessed. “You, on the other hand, I find myself more compelled to remain with.”

Charles smiled at that. “Well that’s rather convenient, because I would much rather remain with you than with the CIA.”

He wanted to get closer to Erik, to touch him and be touched and curl up against the other man and figure out just what sort of aftershave he used. Just being in Erik’s presence made Charles’s mind snap like wildfire. His thoughts were faster, more intense, and the intensity of it all was making it unnervingly difficult to breathe. Shaw and his telepath would simply have to be disappointed; Erik was Charles’s and like hell Shaw was going to do anything to tarnish the gleaming brilliance that was Erik Lehnsherr.

“However, I do believe it would prudent for the time being to play along. I’ll happily drop them at the first opportunity, but I’m certain there’s still a bit of usefulness we can get out of them. Platt has a scientist back in Virginia who’s apparently created some sort of device that could amplify my telepathy. I want a shot at that device before we leave.”

Discussing the future in terms of the two of them...it was a bit unnerving how quickly he adjusted to it. An entire life alone, and within the course of one night he finds someone he doesn’t want to be without. It seemed he owed a number of authors a collective apology.

[Erik Lehnsherr]

Charles spoke of how murder was a step down. Of how it would not mean a great deal and that he would have to do something that would have more of an impact. What that something was, Erik was unsure. He did not often create grand, elaborate plans of killing someone. He did plan . . . but he took advantage of what the situation offered him. He had killed many Nazis in his hunt for Shaw. But even when he came face to face with him again, he did not plan to drag it out too much. He just wanted him dead. Yet with what Charles was saying . . . would a quick death be too swift? Too fast? Too, unsatisfying? Erik quickly dismissed these thoughts. He was struggling enough with the fact that he had become a man so consumed with vengeance. Surely he could not be a man who plotted the most torturous way to make a man suffer. "Her diamond form can also make her vulnerable," Erik offered, quickly recalling his brief encounter with her. She had proved to be a shield however, the hard diamond alloy was not impenetrable. It was breakable. "I am fairly certain that any form of metal, when applied with the right amount of force, can cause the diamond to crack." He specifically stated a form of metal, considering that was when his own powers could come into play. It was at least a way to hinder her; it just became a matter of getting to her and keeping a strong, controlling hold on her.

Charles then vocalized Erik's thoughts about Shaw. Once again, Erik wondered if he should feel unsettled by someone stating his intentions, but it had the reverse affect. Erik felt a little reassured, not only that Charles understood his motives -- perhaps better than anyone else considering he ha gotten right into his mind. But also because he stated that death was too good for Shaw. He was encouraging him. And that was something Erik had never. He internally battled with the decision himself, yet Charles gave him that confidence and certainty that made Erik lack any doubt in his decision to kill Shaw. "What would you suggest?" Erik asked, a slight smile playing on his lips as he was genuinely curious. The thought of Shaw suffering was . . . disturbingly appealing. And he felt that with Charles' support, he was further justified in his hunt and goal. "I had not thought of anything beyond killing him," Erik admitted, finding it surprising that he could speak so openly about a man that had created a deep hate within Erik. He knew this was unique; that it was only Charles he would be able to speak so easily to about things such as this. For even though they had just met, he felt as if Charles knew him better than most others. Perhaps better than anyone else in fact.

Erik gave another small smile at Charles saying that he'd rather remain with him as well. It made things seem less, one sided. Which was certainly a good thing. He went on to explain that it was best they remain with the CIA for the time being, and that was something that Erik had no issue with. Particularly as Charles admitted that he would leave them the first opportunity he had, but not before they proved their usefulness. "What kind of device?" Erik asked, intrigued by this. He had never met another like him before, and now in the presence of a telapth . . . he was finding out so much: what his powers entailed, how it could be blocked, and now, how it could be amplified. It was all so incredibly interesting. "I will stay then, and will readily join you in achieving your own goals." Even if Charles may already know this from what he could read in Erik's mind, he felt the need to vocalize it anyway just so there was no doubt. Just so it was spoken. He also wanted to make it clear that he was willing to join Charles, not the CIA. "And I feel confident in achieving my own in the process." Killing Shaw. Something told him that Charles would help him make sure that happened. So to find someone like Charles Xavier, was indeed a rarity. And not an opportunity Erik would so easily forgo.

[x]

“Her diamond form can also make her vulnerable,” Erik pointed out, focusing on strategy to quiet the personal identity crisis. “I am fairly certain that any form of metal, when applied with the right amount of force, can cause the diamond to crack.”

Charles grinned. Whatever crises of identity Erik might be undergoing, he was nevertheless brilliant. If Erik remained with him, Charles stood a far better chance at convincing Shaw’s little army to abandon their current commander and switch over to Charles’s command. He had the sense that after Shaw, Frost was the alpha of the group. Erik’s careful use of the word metal further implied his likelihood to stick around.

“Excellent idea,” Charles praised. “I do believe we should try that out at the next opportunity. Once her diamond form cracks, she’s much less defended and therefore hardly a match for me.”

If they did manage to recruit Frost to their side, then Charles decided he’d have to train in order to break through Frost’s diamond form when it was whole. Though, once cracked, did her diamond form heal? Or did it remain fractured, forever a liability to her? So many questions, and Charles found himself incredibly excited for the opportunity to find the answers. It was like all his Christmases had come at once; the other mutants, Erik, the plan of action—he was over the moon.

“What would you suggest,” Erik inquired when Charles voiced his opinions on Shaw’s murder. “I had not thought of anything beyond killing him.”

“A great deal of it would depend heavily on the situation in which we confront him,” Charles replied. “What tools will be available to us, of course. I’d be perfectly willing and capable of holding him in place while you get your vengeance. Hmm...we’ll have time to discuss the matter further, of course; there’s no way we’ll be confronting Shaw in the immediate future.”

Charles went on to mention the installation Platt had waiting for him at the secret research base. It piqued Erik’s interest, a fascination in Charles’s powers and how they worked. The telepath preened a bit, utterly unused to someone so fascinated with his abilities in such an innocent way.

“What kind of device?”

“All I’m aware of is that it will amplify my telepathy, increasing my range,” Charles confessed. “Platt is unfortunately lacking in details. But if the device really can increase my range, it would certainly make seeking out other mutants much easier for us.”

Because like hell he’d allow the CIA to get involved with locating new mutants any more than they already were. He’d have to locate the blueprints for the machine and convince the engineers behind it to build him one—immediately destroying the CIA’s version and ensuring they’d never be able to build another like it, of course.

“I will stay then,” Erik confirmed, “and will readily join you in achieving your own goals. And I feel confident in achieving my own in the process.”

Charles grinned, ecstatic at the confirmation that Erik would remain with him. Not that he would have let Erik walk away—at least, not with knowledge of Charles’s identity—but it was so much easier when the man in question chose to stay of his own volition.

“I must say I’m glad to hear that, my friend,” Charles said.  "I do hope our partnership proves profitable to the both of us."