Chapter Text
“Pardon me, are you Erik Lehnsherr, sir?” asked Charles at the bar one night.
Erik sighed and looked up from his drink. “That depends who’s asking.”
“Oh, sure! Sir, I’m Charles Xavier, I’m at your service, sir. I have been looking for you,” Charles confessed.
“I’m getting nervous...” Erik muttered.
“Sir, I heard your name at Princeton. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punched him. It’s a blur, sir,” Charles elaborated. “He handles the financials?”
“You punched the bursar.”
“Yes, I wanted to do what you did: graduate in two, then join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid. I’m not stupid,” Charles continued. “So, how’d you do it, how’d you graduate so fast?”
Erik sighed. Was he really gonna tell a stranger his woes? “It was my parents dying wish before they passed.”
The little gears in Charles’s head clicked. “You’re an orphan, of course. I’m an orphan. God, I wish there was a war then we could prove that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for!”
“Can I buy you a drink?” asked Erik.
“That would be nice,” Charles gave him one of his patented ‘Nice guy™’ smiles.
“While we’re talking, let me offer you some free advice,” Erik slapped a hand on Charles’s back. “Talk less.”
“What?” Charles tilted his head like a dog.
“Smile more,” Erik hummed. Charles chuckled at his statement.
“Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for,” Erik glanced over to his side.
“You can’t be serious.” Charles scoffed.
“Do you want to get ahead?” he asked, to which Charles nodded. “Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.”
The door slammed open as three more mutants waltzed into the bar one after the other, seemingly together and already slightly tipsy.
“What time is it?” asked the tallest of the trio: covered in blue fur and wearing glasses over his brown eyes.
“Showtime!” the two others yelled in response.
“Hey, I’m Hank McCoy in the place to be,” he picked up their glasses from the bar and walked over to their table. “Two pints of Sam Adams, but I’m working on three!”
The group broke out in laughter.
“Those humans don’t want it with me ‘cause I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I’m free!”
“Oui, oui, Mon amie, je m’appelle Gambit, the Lancelot of the revolutionary set,” called out the second who played with a stack of cards and sipped from his glass. “I came from afar just to say bonsoir, tell Stryker casse-toi. Who is the best? C’est moi!”
“Brrrah, brraaah I am Sean Cassidy, I’m up in it, lovin’ it, yes I heard ya mother said come again!” yelled the third who suspiciously seemed to be the loudest of the three. “Ay, lock up ya daughters and horses, of course, it’s hard to have intercourse over four sets of corsets.”
“Wow! No more sex, pour me another brew, son!” Hank smirked. “Let’s raise a couple more to the revolution.”
The other two raised their glasses and echoed his cry.
“Well if it isn’t the prodigy of Princeton college,” Hank walked over to Erik and smiled. “Erik Lehnsherr, give us a verse. Drop some knowledge.”
“Well, good luck with that, you’re taking a stand. You’ll spit, I’ll sit. We’ll see where we land,” Erik growled, quite obviously not wanting to be disturbed.
“Erik, the revolution is imminent. What do you stall for?” asked Hank.
“If you stand for nothing, Erik, what’ll you fall for?” Charles Rose from his seat and asked.
“Who are you?” asked Sean.
“Who are you?” echoed Gambit.
“Who are you?” chimed in Hank.
“Oh, who is this kid, what’s he gonna do?” asked all three at once.