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It didn't start with yearning. It started with, as so many things started, with rage. It was only later, when Erik came to think things through, that he realized the yearning had been part of him all along.
Half past midnight, the full moon shone down the murky waves down the pier. Erik slipped into the water, surprisingly freezing against his black catsuit. He could see the words 'Caspartina' on the sleek white vessel up ahead. Reaching out, he slowly tugged the metal watch on his wrist to the hull of the ship, swimming through with only his eyes above surface. Carefully, Erik tugged on the anchor to his grasp. Then, quietly, he hung on to the chains as they were levitated to the hull of the ship.
Immediately Erik ducked on the corner of the deck, listening. He could hear voices from the funnel of the ship. The man's voice, Erik would recognize it anywhere. Wasting no time, Erik sent his dagger flying to Shaw's face. To his shock, the thin blonde next to him caught it, her body instantly crystallizing into diamond. Then her eyes narrowed, and Erik was instantly on his knees. He was blind and his mind was projecting the worst of his childhood memories, the lab, Shaw, his mother.... When he gasped for breath, he could hear Shaw laughing, confident as he had always been. And before he could even feel humiliated, he was tossed out of the ship, the water slapping him back to full alertness.
Spluttering, Erik felt his pulse quicken with fury. He once again pulled at the anchors, this time not bothering to be quiet. With all his might, he crashed them toward the deck. He could feel the ship breaking, some of the engines exploding. Then, he felt the bottom half of the ship dismantle itself. Something didn't feel right. It was moving swiftly, far too swiftly to be sinking debris. It was a submarine, and he could easily picture Shaw smirking as he escaped from him once again. Erik was engulfed with rage. He wasn't going to let Shaw go so easily. He closed his eyes. With every strength he could muster, he pulled the submarine. For a moment, it seemed to be working. the submarine was feeling closer and closer, until he realized that he was sinking along with it. Erik didn't bother opening his eyes. The pressure was building in his ears, but still, he refused to let go.
It was as if his body realized it was going to die. A voice, one he never heard before, yelled in his head; "Let go! You have to let it go!" It's true then, Erik thought, extraordinary things do happen when one nears death. He could feel the submarine's motors straining against his power. The two seem to be locked in a stalemate. But he had to somehow pull the submarine back to the surface, he was about to black out. Suddenly, He felt something wrap its long arms against his back, like a koala. It took him a moment to realized it had a torso. Was it mermaid? Some part of Erik wondered.
The voice in his head was becoming more and more incessant, its tone pleading. "You have let go. I know what this means to you, but you're going to die." Erik struggled against those arms, he could feel his focus slipping, his arms were heavy. "Please Erik. Calm your mind." Erik's arms went slack. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the voice, or he was simply dying. Something was pulling him up and soon he was gasping air.
Whatever sprout of adrenaline that helped him underwater was gone. He never felt so spent in his life. He was so focused on trying to breathe, he didn't realize those tentacle like arms were still latched on him. He jerked his arm and panted, "Get off of me!" When he opened his eyes, he saw that the arms belonged to a man about his age, also gasping for air. He was busy yelling "We're here!" off to the bulbs of light in the distance. They were far more off the coast than Erik realized. Somehow, he knew his body won't be able to swim back at its state. Within a minute, the coast guard's life boat came. It must have already been moored nearby, and Erik was shocked to see some military personnel aboard. What had he gotten tangled to this time? But it was too late to run away. The man was already on board, and before he knew it he was pulled in as well.
After he was transported to an even bigger coast guard vessel, where he was allowed a quick shower and a set of dry clothes, he found himself seated in a interrogation room. Erik felt his forehead bead his sweat. The night had gone terribly. He didn't want anything to do with the American government. He was pondering whether to introduce himself as Max or Magnus when the door opened. The man from the water walked in with an agent of some sort. The agent seated himself across Erik, stony faced. But the man from the water smiled at him, and Erik had a random thought about lapis lazuli; how the man seem to have the bluest eyes he's ever seen.
All introduction aside, the agent blatantly asked, "Who are you?" Erik had decided Max sounded more believable than Magnus when the man abruptly answered. "This is Erik Lehnsherr." Turning to him, he continued. "Mr. Lehnsherr, this is agent Platt from the CIA, and I'm Charles Xavier." Erik stared. That voice, the voice inside his head. This man, Xavier, must be a telepath. 'A mutant, just like you.' Xavier answered smoothly, yet his lips did not budge from that welcoming smile. Erik gritted his teeth. There was no point trying to work out a strategy to hold information. And Erik was exhausted. He looked at Xavier, dropping all pretext he asked "What do you want?" "We need your help, Mr. Lehnsherr. But perhaps we could talk about this tomorrow morning? If you would kindly accompany us, we've nearly arrived at the CIA base." Agent Platt was strangely silent next to Xavier, nodding mutely, and Erik couldn't shake the feeling that telepathy had something to do with it. Perhaps that was the reason he found himself nodding as well. "Lovely. Follow me and you can sleep in the car." The CIA and a telepath, Erik thought bitterly. He seriously regretted coming to America.
Everything after that night in Miami passed in a blur. Erik often caught himself off-balance, as his body tried to get use to staying in a base, living in a dormitory, like a schoolboy. During the first few days, he was outlined of what he was becoming part of. Agent Platt along with a women called agent Mactaggert was trying to build a separate branch in the CIA, recruiting agents with mutations. They met a young scientist (also a mutant) named Hank McCoy, who was building some device to help find mutant recruits across the country. And apparently, the CIA didn't like Shaw, either. Somewhere along those corridors, they must keep a file of Shaw, and that was the only reason Erik was staying. The moment he found it, he'd be gone.
If there was one thing that bothered him, it was Xavier, who insisted a dozen times to call him Charles, and after his third attempt within a half an hour, Erik simply relented to not seem like a complete jerk. He just hoped that Xavier understood that he had no intention of being called Erik. And while Erik somehow knew that Xavier could scoop up anything in Erik's mind, Xavier never ratted out his private information like he had to Platt on the ship, nor did he ever tried to speak telepathically in his mind again. Sometimes, though, Erik could feel a slight brush against his mind, and when he turned, he could find those blue irises fixed upon him.
In the end, the CIA manged to keep him for three days. Erik had completed the map of the base in his mind, even the restricted areas through the metal infrastructure. He manged to sneak into three of the most likely areas for information on Shaw. On his third attempt, that evening, he was lucky. He easily unlocked the safe on Mactaggert's cabinet, and managed to extract two files; both Sebastian Shaw and the diamond lady, who was recorded as Emma Frost. Slipping it in to a briefcase nearby, Erik silently walked out of the front doors. He was going to go through the metal fence, and all he had to do, was to slip into the shadows of the front lawn unnoticed.
Just as he slipped into the shadows a voice called behind his back. "Going somewhere?" Erik turned, of course it was Xavier. At least he had the courtesy to come alone to confront him. Dressed in a paunchy cardigan and pants, Xavier looked just like a gullible professor. If it weren't for his telepathy, Erik would have tried silencing him with physical strength. But he was stuck. Erik glared at Xavier "What do you know about me?" Xavier smiled, "Everything." Erik grimaced. He was probably right. "Then you know to stay out of head."
He kept walking. To his surprise, Xavier didn't follow. He didn't walk back inside to press the alarm. He simply stood his ground, and called out; "Shaw has friends. You could use some too, Agent Lehnsherr." Somehow the words irritated Erik. These people weren't his friends. "I'm not CIA, Charles. Call me Erik." Xavier's whole face lighted up, "Of course, Erik." Xavier walked back inside. And Erik somehow knew neither would speak of this encounter.
The next morning, Erik came out of his dormitory in a black turtleneck as if nothing happened. No one seemed to have noticed the missing files yet. Erik had spent the night carefully memorizing every detail. He planned to return it as soon as he could, before anyone noticed. After breakfast, he came across Platt and Charles talking about using McCoy's machine. Apparently, Platt wanted the CIA agent to recruit the mutants themselves. Erik couldn't help but interrupt, "If a new species is being found, it should be done by its own kind. Charles and I'll find the mutants, no suits." Upon seeing him, Charles's eyes lit up. If he was naive, Erik might have actually believed Charles wasn't keeping track of his whereabouts in the base. "Erik, you decided to stay." With a jolt, Erik realized Charles had spoken telepathically. Out loud, he simply said "I'm with Erik in this one."
After Charles successfully tried on McCoy's machine (Cerebro, he called it), Erik packed his bags once more. He quietly returned the two files back to Mactaggert's office. Lying in his bunk, Erik suddenly realized with a jolt, he somehow completely discarded his plans to leave the base. And, he had unknowingly started calling Xavier as Charles in his head. Tomorrow, he was going to go on a mission with Charles. He couldn't believe that four days ago, he didn't know Charles had existed. Now, he was thinking about him in first name basis. What was wrong with him? Erik thought as he shifted in his sheets. He was still thinking about Charles when he finally fell asleep.
Erik never dreamed anything but nightmares. But that night, he dreamed he was back on the pier in Miami. The moon shone down on the dark crescent waves. A soft breeze ruffled his hair. He had almost forgotten how pleasant the night had been before he got soaked. But unlike his memory, the pier was deserted. There was something strange about the place, unsettling, but not frightening. It was as though there were a spirit weaving through the wind. He found his mind at peace, tranquil the way it hadn't been for years. Somehow he turned to his right, and wasn't at all ruffled to find Charles sitting by his side. "I thought I was alone." He told Charles, staring out to the sea. "You're not alone." Charles answered, bringing Erik's hand into his. "Erik, you're not alone." And staring at those azure eyes in the sliver moonlight, Erik believed him.