Charles had no time to object before he felt himself being hurled over the wall. Due to the fact he hadn’t been able to maneuver to land properly, he hit the ground landing rather roughly on his back, the force of the impact nearly winding him.

"A bit more warning next time…" Charles panted. "…Would be nice."

"It's a good thing you're not made of porcelain." Erik laughed. He'd never expected he'd be running and hiding for fun yet here he was. 

"Caught your breath? Or do you want to call it quits {and wipe their memories}?"

So what, should I threatening you with hugs and kisses?!”

"If you expect me to stop threatening you with violence, I expect you to stop threatening humans that way, you asshole!

"That's enough!"

"You chose to join my cause, knowing full well humanity is obsolete, a threat to our kind!  If you can not accept that, leave!

Now!"

Put "Truth" with a question in my askbox or a "Dare" with a challenge.

Maybe it had been reckless, but for some reason it had seemed too trivial not to indulge the girl when she showed him the button. He'd thought it was some simple magic trick and now they were cuffed together.

"I pushed the button, didn't I?" He shrugged "Fortunately my mutation will get us out soon enough." And as he said it, the handcuffs fell to the floor. Erik rubbed his wrists. "You didn't know "what would happen?"

{ animus-lectione-professor }

Charles Xavier. The name did seem somewhat familiar. He couldn’t ponder on that matter, however. Right now, there was a more pressing task at hand. The man stood before him was, after all, his target. He had hoped that Erik Lehnsherr would be the last of the Brotherhood he would take down…

But why waste an opportunity such as this?

His first kill had been the telepath, Emma Frost. She and Azazel were ultimately Erik’s primary line of communication. If she found out he was coming, the first thing she would do would be inform Erik. Unfortunately for her, even if she had warned Erik of his closing in on them, she hadn’t enough time to get herself to safety before he had taken care of her.

He had been looking to next take out Azazel, a tactic he hoped would deprive Erik and the other members of the Brotherhood of knowledge of his location. And yet here he stood with Erik before him. And he was going to take this chance.

"I do not know of any Charles Xavier," he said flatly, showing no sign of recognition towards the other. "What I do know, however, is that you are my mission.”

Even without that disconcerting reply Erik knew something was terribly wrong. You couldn't be a fighter for as long as he had been without developing a sixth sense for someone's intentions and right now Charles regarded him as a hostile target. What that cold stare did to his already frayed soul was something he could not afford to dwell on at this moment..

"What happened, Charles?" Erik asked more urgently. "What have they done to you?"

CIA, Beast had said. But how was this possible? Even if it had been them, how had those loathsome humans been able to overcome the strongest mind of the planet and wipe his very sense of self?

Emma! Tell Azazel to get me out of here. Now!

► || London Calling; || — Charles & Erik.

|      ~      |   «No.»

➝   His voice wasn’t more than an airy whisper, trembling at the edges of his quick, one-syllable response. It wasn’t the thought of being so far off the ground that made Charles feel like his nerves were electrocuted one by one, the longer he was high up in the air; no; what made his heart race like a roaring wildfire was the fear of falling, of not being able to control his pace; the nauseating prospect of dolorous finality, the deafening cry of his spine eventually breaking apart.

➝   The delighted ease of Erik’s mind, fuelled by the vibrant reception of his mutation, felt like a warm embrace around Charles’ edgy consciousness; smoothing the pointed joints between his nerves, rebuilding the haywire machine inside his head inch by inch. Charles was clinging to his friend with all his mind and soul, desperately trying to spark the ignition of their mental connection; even more, when Erik’s thoughts suddenly darkened with sharp concern, just to be superseded a moment later by the low hum of involuntary desire; quickly vanishing behind a wall of icy steel. The eclipse emerging from Erik’s shutdown swallowed the remnants of the heaving song dancing around Charles’ thoughts, exposing his mind to the silent bellow of his vertigo.

➝   ‹I'm afraid, Erik. The height— I can't think. I can't think, Erik.›

➝   With a wretched sob, Charles breathed into the damp fabric of Erik’s jacket. Just inhale; exhale; inhale; exhale. It wasn’t easy to finally open his eyes again after a few moments; searching for Erik’s gaze. With a shaky breath Charles swiftly wiped away the tears dropping over the rim of his lashes; grabbing his friend’s hand to bring it towards his face, until he could feel the warmth of Erik’s fingertips against his temple; trying to rebuild their link by direct physical connection.

➝   «Think of your most serene memory for me; I— I need to focus. Do that for me, Erik. Please— »

                                                                           |      ~      |

His fingers against Charles' temple set his skin on fire like the whiskey had burnt in his throat, and he was helpless against the tide of undiluted want that scorched his veins and settled into the pit of his stomach like an explosive waiting for the slightest touch to set it off. It became clear to him that whatever would happen this strangest of nights he could no longer deny that he was desperately in love. He hated himself that moment too; hated that Charles' tears of dread invoked such passion within him, that his vulnerability only fanned Erik's desire to take him, to devour him until all that was left were these little cries and whimpers, until they too were silenced in the night. "A serene memory?" His laughter sounded hollow in his own ears and he tilted his head to the sky, seeking the cold light of the stars to douse the fire within. It were his impulses that had caused Charles this distress; first, the text message, second, the involuntary flight. Third, he's wont to notice how I feel right now. It made him slam every defense against the telepath he could muster in place. But he had to try. Even if everything between them turned  to ashes, he should at least attempt to calm Charles down, to provide him some sense of safety before Erik repaired the wheel and have  it bring them down. A serene memory? His childhood had been cut short and after that everything was darkness - an oozing wound of rage and hate and pain. There was no happiness to be found there for sure. In truth he had never been happy, not until he had met Charles. It had been Charles who had pulled him out of the fight against Shaw, who had shown him a better way to live, a future to look forward to. And that was how he found what he was looking for. "I'm sorry." He whispered almost inaudibly as he lowered his eyes to meet Charles' tearful gaze. He trembled slightly in fear of what this precious memory might cost him. "This is all I have." It was one of those perfect autumn days. The trees painted the landscape with brightly coloured leaves, splashes of red, orange and yellow in the dark green grass of the little meadow at the far end of the estate. They had been cooped up for days sorting through the books of the enormous library and Charles had led them down the half forgotten path after he decided  they sorely needed a break. The sun was still warm but the wind was blowing sharply from the north, and his friend had been wearing a ridiculous long knitted scarf over his coat that kept blowing in his face while he vehemently argued the validity of a theory he'd wanted to propose, apparently mistaking Erik who had long since been convinced for his less enlightened colleagues. When they'd reached the clearing however, Charles had abruptly fallen silent, entranced with the simple beauty of the autumnal landscape. His mouth had fallen slightly open in a surprised 'o' as he drank in the sight, his freckled cheeks red from the cold and his eyes such a bright blue it seemed they were two shards that had broken off  the sky. And as Charles had looked out over the meadow, Erik had looked at Charles and for the first time in his life he'd seen a person he could irrevocably trust, someone he could allow himself to love. And from that moment on he had.

Where he can't lie to Charles so he doesn't actually say anything. I still believe Erik is doing an Aes Sedai thing here, because that is the kind of bastard he is.

"You could at least act like you care.”

"I don’t." Erik shrugged. "And I won’t pretend otherwise to you. What would be the point of that?"

magneticenne

"Well well, if it isn’t the ‘Master of Magnetism’ himself. Are you in the market for some magical assistance?"

"You make it sound like you're selling encyclopaedias. But yes, I would like to discuss a temporary alliance."

Charles tensed somewhat when Erik’s helmet came off. A greater part of him wanted to reach out and take control of his mind, get both himself and Erik out of this mess. But there were three of them, and only one of him. Even worse, they might not think twice about disposing of Erik if it were clear that Charles had the power to control him. 

So, he decided to comply with Erik’s wishes. Focusing as much as he could, he used his powers to see into the older mutant’s mind. It was all there, everything Erik said the humans would do. 

Not wishing to be audience to his thoughts a moment longer, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, breaking the connection between them.

"I’m not going to kill anyone, Erik,” he persisted.

"Yes you are, old friend." Erik replied sadly. He put the helmet back on his head and rose, towering over Charles. Though it was an unnecessary  gesture -his control over his power was just as strong without it- he still stretched his arm and pointed his hand towards the wires that were coiled against Charles' skin like thin metallic tapeworms, ready to burrow themselves under the surface and take control of the telepaths' brain, and hopefully his powers.

The wires were hooked into a complicated machine that - provided everything went as planned - would simulate the abilities of Cerebro with the exception that Charles would not be in control of the way his powers were directed.

If Erik was less focused he would probably admit that thus far this was the worst crime he'd committed in his entire life. The bullet on the beach had been a tragic accident; this was torture and possibly murder. But it was the only way he could think of that would prevent the extinction of the mutant race and therefore he would take it. 

When he squeezed his fingers into a fist, the coils sprang to life and pierced the skin, sliding through the helpless body, looking to entwine with its nerves and take control of the direction of its electric pulses.