Chapter Text
“And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cuz I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
Cuz sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight.”
- “Iris”, Goo Goo Dolls
“…The advent of the nuclear age may have accelerated the mutation process. Individuals with extraordinary abilities may already be among us,” she concluded. “Thank you very much.”
A moment of terse silence ensued as she sat, but her audience was not focused on her.
“MacTaggert, you really think that some crackpot scientist is going to make me believe in sparkly dames and vanishing men?” one of the men snorted derisively. “You just bought yourself a one-way ticket back to the typing pool. This meeting is over.”
Charlotte spoke up quickly. “Ah, please, sit down, Agent MacTaggert,” she requested politely. Dressed professionally in a dove grey skirt suit with her hair pinned back severely, she looked every inch the respectable Oxford professor that she is, but the men before her are arrogant idiots and they still think her a foolish teenaged girl, regardless of her age or degrees.
“I didn’t really expect you to believe me, as all you’d think about during my presentation is what sort of pie they’d be serving in the commissary,” she said haughtily and paused.
“It’s apple pecan,” she couldn’t help but tartly answer for them, before glancing to MacTaggert. “I’m terribly sorry, but I haven’t been entirely honest with you.
“You see,” she returned her attention to the men before her. “One of the spectacular things my mutation allows me to do is that I can read your mind.”
She relished the skeptical looks on their faces, preparing for the following expressions of incredulity.
“I’ve seen this trick before at the magic show,” the one on the right snapped scathingly. “Are you gonna ask us to think of a number between one and ten?”
Charlotte laughed politely, still smiling sweetly. “No, Agent Stryker, although—I could ask you about your son, William, whom you were thinking about, which is very nice—or the secretary with whom you are having an affair, which is less nice, I suppose, but,” she leaned forward eagerly, chin propped elegantly upon the back of her hand, “I think I’d rather ask you about the Jupiter missiles America are currently placing in Turkey.”
Under the manners and poise that her family instilled in her, Charlotte had always delighted in being a menace when warranted.
Observing their panic wax well worth her patience through the niceties and nonsense so far.
“She’s a goddamn spy!” the other agent spat. “You brought a goddamn spy!”
Chaos ensued momentarily.
Beside her, Raven didn’t move, but she gave Charles a practiced little mental tap for her attention. Can I?
Yes, I think now would be perfect.
Her sister's eager smugness was palpable. My pleasure, Char.
Abruptly, Raven stood, taking Stryker’s appearance, though the smirk wad all hers. The room stilled instantly, and after a pause, she reverted to her natural azure form.
Charlotte smirked, knowing her expression is a bit insolent. “How’s that for a magic trick?”
The man in the back finally spoke up. “Best I’ve ever seen.”
A cursory perusal of his mind made her smile. An ally, especially one of his position, was a valuable, welcome thing.
And a relief, meaning they wouldn’t be thrown into a cell. While she’d only have to manipulate the other agents minds for them to be released, this was far more preferable.
“There’s someone else out there!”
She pushed past them, back out to the deck, and located the other in an instant.
“There!” she exclaimed, pointing to the speck in the water…just as the Caspartina’s anchor rose into the air like a serpent and began destroying the ship. Charlotte’s mouth fell open in awe as she watched the display.
Information came pouring in from the mutant’s mind. Shaw, in a submarine escaping—the mutant trying to pull it back—the desperation gripping him, how far he’ll go if it means stopping Shaw—
“Let go!” she screamed to him, leaning on the rail. “Let go!”
Charlotte turned to the others. “You’ve got to help him—get someone in the water to help him—Let it go! You have to let it go!”
But he could not hear her, and he began sinking under the water…
They weren’t listening. There wasn’t time—
“Sod this,” she muttered. Flinging off her jacket and shoes, she dove off the ship without hesitation.
“Charlotte—” Moira shouted in alarm, but the telepath hit the water before she could hear anymore.
Fighting the dark water, she managed to reach him and latch on to him quickly, wrapped her arms around his chest, trying to pull him up for air. You can’t. You’ll drown, she pleaded, just desperate as him now as she reached out—
Blinding, consuming rage—heartbreaking grief from years past—desperation, I can’t let him get away, not again—and a fierce determination, willing to die if it meant taking Schmidt-Shaw with him.
I know what this means to you but you are going to die, she told him urgently, tugging at him again. Please, Erik. Calm your mind.
Finally, he relented, practically going limp as he watched Shaw escape again, making it easier to finally get them to the surface. Even without trying to read his mind, she felt the mixture of desperation-disappointment-guilt-fury.
As they surfaced and gasped for air, he shoved her away. “Get off me, get off me!”
“Calm down, just breathe!” she told him, releasing him as she tried to sooth the boil vat of anger she could feel within him.
“We’re here!” the telepath shouted to the people on the ship, waving.
The mutant, Erik, looked at her—and she could see her own pale, miserable, soaked image in his mind. Physically, she was no threat, but he’s understandably unnerved by her telepathy. “Who are you?”
“My name is Charlotte Xavier.”
“You were in my head!” he accused. “How did you do that?”
Suspicion rolled off him in waves, not helped by his panic, desperation, and adrenaline. It was the mental equivalent of a heady cocktail, dizzying and headache-inducing.
Despite that, Charlotte smiles. “You have your tricks, Erik, and I have mine. I’m like you—just calm your mind, please.”
His wide-eyed look of shock and confusion softened her heart. “I—I thought I was alone.”
Her chest clenched at the echoes of his decades-old loneliness, now accompanied by a rising hope. For understanding. For companionship, in some small, brief way. For the chance at allies.
As he stared at her, there was something warm there, softening the sharp edges of his mind ever so slightly. A hint of awe, which was not something she’d ever received for her mutation alone.
Despite the circumstances, she could not quite contain her own joy at meeting another like her.
“You’re not alone,” she promised him with a breathless smile. “Erik, you’re not alone.”
They said no more as they are fished out of the sea and onto the ship. With his overflowing panic ebbing, she could more easily retreat from his mind and allow him to process it all on his own.
While several crewmembers go in search of blankets and fresh clothes, the CIA people and Raven eye the newcomer cautiously.
Likely because of how he’d so easily controlled that ship anchor and tried to destroy that boat, which was understandable.
“H-He’s with us,” Charlotte said, trying not to let her teeth chatter as she shared a reassuring look with her sister. “An ally.”
Fuck, it was freezing.
Well, not really, she knew. They were off the coast of sodding Florida, but why did the evening air feel so damn cold?
She shivered almost violently, grateful that she wore trousers instead of a skirt today, even if her light sweater is utterly soaked and clinging. A nearby crewman leered, and Charlotte heard his filthy mind—but then he scurried off before she could even send him a glare.
Turning back to face the others, the telepath was surprised to find Erik glaring after him, with a mind full of German curses.
Out of the water, she could see him better. And, goodness, he was tall; he practically loomed over her shorter-than-average height. His dark hair plastered to his head, and his fair face was pale from the cold.
Finally, spare clothing was found, and they changed. As the ship returned to land, they all gathered and introductions were made. Charlotte allowed Moira explain the details while she focused on re-pinning her wet hair out of her face.
All while she did her best not to grin with utter excitement whenever she glances to Erik, especially not when Raven was paying attention.
You're not alone, she had told him, but it was also for her sake. Of course, she had sensed other mutants' minds, but to actually meet another… It's incredible. For so long it has only been her and Raven.
And Erik, oh he amazes and intrigues her already.
Finally, he explained, though briefly. “He killed my mother and used me like a lab rat for my abilities,” he tersely said, jaw tight. “I’ve been after him for years now.”
A pang of sympathy resounded in her as she suddenly understood the well of sorrow and hatred in him that had tugged at her so keenly earlier.
When they adjourn, Erik paused beside her before they all parted. “You said you were in my mind earlier, Miss Xavier.”
“Please,” she said, smiling, “It’s Professor Xavier if you want to be formal, but I’d much prefer Charlotte.”
His expression hardened for a moment. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask one,” she quipped by reflex but then shook her head, willing that away, knowing the humor was poorly timed. “But yes you were correct.”
Erik’s eyes narrowed. “I asked in my mind, I thought you were listening.”
“No. I try to stay out of others’ minds if possible,” she replies simply. Now that he had calmed, she could block his thoughts from her.
“Good,” he snapped, eyes dangerous. “Stay out.”
He left before she could say more, and she watched him go silently, carefully keeping her mind to herself.
Despite all the complications he brings, and despite all of the doubts and walls he bore, Charlotte smiled to herself.
Fascinating.