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It took much too much effort to throw the magnetic forcefield up. It was almost laughable, really. The field was innate to him, forever grafted against his skin, and extending it usually took no more than a thought.
But blood was oozing from torn flesh, his head buzzed unpleasantly, and blurry images of another massacre threatened to pull him down under their weight.
The beam from the giant sentinel pushed against his field with the intention to shatter. He saw Rogue out of the corner of his eye attempt to rush to his aid. Shifting his shoulders to better bear the weight, he broke a hand away from his current display of his abilities to sweep her and Gambit behind an amalgamation of metallic debris. The fear in Anna Marie’s eyes. The fear in Remy’s. He couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.
Instead he looked down at the precious life he was protecting, pressed against his chest. He felt his eyes soften. Felt the words of perhaps his mother, perhaps his father, bubble up from somewhere in his memory.
“Hab keine Angst.”
The field didn’t so much shatter as it did vaporize. He expected the blast to burn but instead it pierced his skin with chill. Leech’s eyes, so full of trust one moment, had very little time to register fear before his skull was grotesquely bereft of them.
Time froze. Two black holes where the young boy’s eyes should have been bored into him, his mouth extending in a gruesome grimace.
“You lied.”
Magnus’ body convulsed, back arching off of a cold table, white lights bouncing off of white walls to blind him. He could see medical masks above him. Scalpels gleaming in the light. And purple eyes.
“Still pretending you can’t talk, huh? Pity. You spend so much time blowing hot air at the trial but the moment I actually ask for your opinion, you finally shut up. Well. Let’s see how long you can keep your mouth closed.”
Pain, not cold but white hot. His forearms tensed painfully against metal binds. He set his jaw, suppressing an agonized choke, but hot tears streamed down his face.
Magnus.
That sounded like Charles. But Charles wasn’t here. No one was.
Magnus, please. Wake up.
The pain lost its edge. His vision clouded and Charles’ voice magnified. He could feel the gentle pressure of a familiar presence in his mind.
Erik!
His eyes shot open. A gasp wrenched itself free, nearly sending him into a coughing fit. The room was dark but phantom lights still shone in his eyes. Finding his arms were no longer held down, his hands scrambled for purchase and found, just beside him, warmth.
“Magnus, it’s alright. You’re alright. You’re safe.”
A hand gripped his shoulder. Another cradled his cheek.
“Breathe,” said Charles’ calming voice. Magnus took a breath. Then another. The stale air of a long abandoned temple in the hot desert came to him first. Then the scratchy fabric of a thread-bare blanket underneath his cheek. Then he was able to register cool blue eyes, wet with emotion, staring down at him.
He saw a thousand images Charles never should have seen reflected in his eyes. A wave of guilt washed over him, but he didn’t retreat from Charles’ touch. Realizing his desperate hands had found Charles’ waist, he buried his face in his hip and continued to take steadying breaths. As he did so the hand on his cheek moved to his hair, running deft fingers through the strands.
“How much did you see?” His voice was hoarse, but then, it was a miracle he was speaking at all.
“More than I believe you wanted me to see,” Charles responded carefully.
“That seems to be a habit of yours lately.” Magnus made no attempt to hide his annoyance. “And? Do you pity me now, old friend?”
“It’s more selfish than that, I’m afraid. I pity myself, for hiding like a coward while you suffered.”
“And if you had not stayed with your Shi’ar bird queen you would be dead. Forgive me, Charles, if I don’t pity you as well.” Magnus heard Charles hum in response.
“I’d wondered how you thought I would fare had I been there.”
Magnus scowled at just how level-headed Charles sounded. He had been hoping his foul mood would deter Charles from maintaining the close proximity he was too weak to put an end to himself. But Charles was content to remain, calmly brushing through Magnus’ hair.
“The odds would not have been in your favor. They weren’t in any of ours’.”
“But if I had…”
“No.” Magnus turned a piercing stare on Charles. “You are not the god who could have stopped the attack on Genosha. None of us were.”
“And yet you still blame yourself.”
A silence fell between them. Magnus shifted his jaw, drawing up the will to speak.
“I made a promise.”
“You did all you could to keep it,” Charles said gently.
“And yet the promise was still broken.”
Charles’ brow furrowed in distress, a frown turning the corners of his mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“My promise was never your responsibility.”
Magnus finally managed to pull back from Charles. He felt too vulnerable with Charles hovering over him. Too close to revealing more disgusting truths he’d rather avoid. He struggled to sit up. The new wounds in his side made the action far more difficult than he anticipated, however. He grunted against the painful tugging of flesh, fists clenching under the strain. Charles laid a hand gently against his chest.
“Perhaps not. But perhaps if I had been there you wouldn’t have had to suffer alone.”
“Suffering alone is a skill I’ve become quite good at,” Magnus snorted. “I’m almost offended you hadn’t noticed after all these years.”
“Well, I did notice you were insufferable,” Charles smirked down at him. “But, believe it or not, insufferable men still deserve people who care about them.”
“Should I feel flattered that the man who cares for most everything cares for me as well?”
Charles considered him for a moment.
“Would you mind terribly…?” Charles flicked his wrist, gesturing for Magnus to shuffle over. Magnus moved almost unconsciously to allow Charles a comfortable amount of space to reposition himself. Before he could fully prepare himself, Charles was lying next to him. Magnus stilled. The space between them was even smaller now.
“What are you…?”
“I love you, Magnus.”
Magnus stared. His thoughts, loud and terrible, quieted to an almost imperceptible hush. And then he sighed in defeat. Because he knew this. He did. It was the primary reason he found his helmet to be so necessary.
“I wish you didn’t.”
“And why is that?” Charles asked, intrigued but undisturbed.
“Because it would make all of this easier,” Magnus breathed into the air between them, feeling as though the words might break him. “Our disagreements, the trust we’ve both broken, this pain. I could accept them. Move on.”
“Life isn’t meant to be easy, Magnus. It is often unfair. But love is meant to remind you that you don’t have to face it alone.”
“Everyone leaves me eventually. Including you.”
“Not anymore.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Charles.” To his horror his voice broke, his warning sounding more like a plea. “I have had enough of promises.”
“I know.” Charles still didn’t reach across the gap between them, though his eyes betrayed his desire to. “But I can ensure you understand that you have a family here with all of us. And with me. Please believe you will always have a family with me.”
Magnus swallowed the emotion welling up in his throat. And he decided that pushing away Charles Xavier wasn’t going to work.
Persistent bastard, He thought a little too hard. Charles lit up.
Naturally.
Magnus reached forward, taking Charles around the waist and pulling him close enough to bury his nose underneath Charles’ chin.
“You’re remarkably cliche when you want to be.”
Charles laughed and it felt like the rising sun had finally found the darkened temple.
“I’d like to think that’s one of your favorite qualities about me.”
“Unfortunately, I love far too many questionable traits you possess.”
Charles deposited a kiss on his forehead.
“What do you need from me right now?”
“I need you to stay,” Magnus whispered, tears beginning to fall freely down his cheeks.
“Oh, my love.” Charles pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “Of course.”