Sin Eater

It was a strange, unsettling thing to have a man like Charles Xavier be THIS mad at you. Not that there were many men like Charles Xavier, of course.

Erik had been so happy to see him. The one person in this god-forsaken world he honestly missed… and then he’d been punched in the face. 

Still. He was free and with Charles, so he would take that as a win. Even if the man was staring at him like another punch was in his near future.

What happened? How had the dapper young man with the suits and great hair turned into… someone smelling of alcohol from 15 feet away?

“How did you lose them?”, Erik opened with the most pressing question.

“The treatment for my spine affects my DNA.”

Erik had expected a lot. A LOT. Not this. Never this.

“You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?!”

He had just spent almost a decade without being able to use his powers. And it HURT. He had been missing one of his senses. Part of himself. How could Charles… CHARLES… do this to himself?!

“I sacrificed my powers so I could sleep. What do you know about it?”

“I've lost my fair share.”

“Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn't justify what you've done.”

That stung. Paralyzing Charles… he would regret that for the rest of his life. He knew it was unforgivable. But… there were many things Erik had lost, that he would gladly have traded his legs for. His powers. His life.

“You have no idea what I've done.”

“I know you took the things that meant the most to me.”

“Well maybe you should have fought harder for them.” Like he would have. Fought. Every day. The anger was rolling off Charles in waves now. Erik knew that feeling all too well. Had seen it. Felt it. It needed to go somewhere. As if on cue, Charles stood up and Erik followed.

“If you want a fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!”

Logan told Charles to “Sit down!”, but Erik wasn't having it. If Charles needed to punch him again. Hurt him, like he’d been hurt, fine. He could wallow in his self-righteous anger or pick a fight he probably couldn't win. Because Erik, too, was mad. Maybe it would do them both some good.

“Let him come.”, Erik told Logan sternly. This was between them. Always. Only them.

Charles grabbed Erik’s shirt, pulling him closer

“You abandoned me! I LOVED you and you abandoned me!”

There was a moment, short, tiny… before it registered with both Erik and Charles what had just been said. Charles’ eyes went wide, he let go of Erik’s shirt and stumbled back… And Erik stood there, frozen.

Had Charles just said that? To him? After ten years of nothing. After months of… no. No way. He could feel it then, the joy of being free and seeing Charles again seeped away and left one thing behind: Anger. The simmering anger that had been building for a decade.

Charles wanted to do this? Now? Stuck on a plane with Hank and some stranger?

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”, Charles began, turning around to join Hank.

“You loved me?! You LOVED me?!”, Erik yelled, “I gave you EVERYTHING. I offered you everything I had, and you turned me away!”

Charles stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn around. His shoulders raised in defense.

“I was ready to be right by your side for the rest of my damned life, and you said NO.”

“By my side? No, Erik, you wanted to go on a murder spree and expected me to be okay with that!”, this time Charles did turn around. Pale and angry.

“I told you. I told you so many times, that I would kill Shaw. You TOLD me, you knew everything about me. So tell me, Charles, tell me you knew. How he killed my mother. How he tortured me for years. And you wanted me to let him live? You can’t stand there and say you loved me. You don’t have the right. Maybe you liked the idea of me you had in your head, but me?! No.”

“That is NOT what happened, and you know it!”

“Do I? That’s news to me.”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

“Yeah, no.”, Logan, who had still been sitting somewhere behind Erik, chose that moment to basically shove him to the side and walk past, “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

Charles, fists balled up and angry, let him pass. He closed the cockpit’s door behind him with an audible click.

“We saved those humans, and they turned on us. Decided to kill us all. And you? At least a show of force might have made them pause.”, Erik was a little calmer now. Maybe. Slightly.

“Violence is never the answer, Erik.”

“Oh really? Emma. Angel. Azazel. Mutant brothers and sisters, all dead. Experimented on. Butchered. Banshee… what happened to Banshee, Charles? What happened to the boy we taught and protected? I abandoned you? You abandoned us all.”

Charles looked like Erik had hit him. Like he wanted to flee. But there was nowhere to go. Not anymore.

Erik on the other hand… Erik was tired. He sat down opposite the seat Charles had previously occupied.

“Who was protecting these kids, Charles, while you and Hank were hidden away in an old house, pretending to be human?”

“Fuck you, Erik. Fuck you!”

“Out of arguments?”

“Where were you then, mh? What did your vendetta get you?!”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I was in a cell. Alone. For a crime I didn’t commit. No powers. Nothing. So were you, I gather. But at least you got to choose.”

“Choose? I didn’t… I didn’t choose any of this! I didn’t choose to get paralyzed by YOU. I didn’t choose to lose students and teachers to a cursed, doomed war. I didn’t… I didn’t choose THIS.”

“Don’t be mad at me for your failings.”

“My failings? Mine?”

“Oh, sit down, will you? It's not like you can run anywhere. Slam some doors…  your extra seat is occupied.”

Charles just stared at him, angry, hurt… and Erik poured himself a glass of Whiskey, took a sip and stared at the opposite wall.

Charles remained standing for a solid five minutes longer, before he finally sat down and poured himself a glass, too.

Erik still wasn't looking at him.

Still, he knew he had fired some harsh shots at the one man he really didn't want to hurt. Didn't want to hate him.

“Did you really not kill Kennedy?”

“No. I really didn't.”

“The bullet curved, Erik.”

“Because I was trying to save him. They took me out before I could.”

"Why would you want to do that?”

Finally, Erik turned his head, making sure to look at Charles, so he would really, honestly, believe him: “Because he was one of us.”

Charles stared at him, before reaching for his glass and drowning it in one gulp.

“You must think me so foolish. You always said they’d come for us.”

“You didn't think they would?”

“Not like this… not… Not enough for them to wipe us all out.”

“Then we are right back in your library. Having the same argument all over again, Charles.”

Silence. Another glass of whiskey for the both of them.

“You are wrong. About me. I loved you. I really did. Not just the idea of you.”

“If that were true, you wouldn't have sent me away.”

“You wanted to leave.”

“I wanted you to ask me to stay. I meant what I said. I was prepared to stay by your side forever.”

“And then what?”

“You could have kept your ideas. Your hopes, your dreams. And I’d have been there, if they failed.”

“So I could keep my hands clean? You can't be serious.”

“My hands weren't clean to begin with. What would a little more blood mean to me?”

“You are not my sin eater, Erik.”

“I thought I could be.”

“Erik…”

“That’s why we are here, isn’t it? It’s why you broke me out. To do the things you won’t.”

Charles froze, staring at him in shock.

“Is that what you think?”

“Is there another explanation?”

“To help us convince Raven to come home. To stop her from killing. To stop this future.”

“Come home? Charles… She’s a grown woman, not a child.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. Do you?”

“You are being obtuse again.”

“And you are deflecting. Again.”

He should leave it here. Nothing had really changed. Even with proof coming to them from the future, Charles wouldn't change his ways. Neither would Erik… but Charles had said it now. Out loud. So Erik could do it, too. Just this once.

“I missed you.”, Erik said. Simple. Quiet, “And I love you.”

There. He said it. It wouldn't change a thing. Never did.

Charles didn't respond at first, the silence heavy between them, his face unreadable.

“You never… you never said that before.”

“Why would I? No need to state the obvious.”

“It wasn't obvious to me.”

“Liar.”

“You said ‘love’, not ‘loved’.”

“I know what I said.”

Another prolonged period of silence from Charles, before he quietly said: “Even now? With everything…”, he gestured vaguely at himself.

“Even now.”, Erik told him simply. And it was true. He loved Charles Xavier. He didn't think he'd ever stop. It wasn't the kind of love that would fade. 

“I love you.”, Charles told him, but there was no joy in the declaration. Just resignation.

It didn't change a thing and they both knew it. It didn't change who they were or what they believed in. It was just… nice to know.

“Fuck it.”, Charles suddenly declared, stood up and pulled Erik up by his collar, kissing him for all he was worth.

They were Charles and Erik, two tipsy men on a plane to Paris. And they would have a few precious hours, before reality would crush back down on them.