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Charles
Even with Apocalypse defeated, there is much that has to be done. With the jet destroyed, Kurt helps teleport us a few at a time off the battlefield. We rush Peter to the hospital and wait in the lobby for him to get a cast, despite all the looks we’re being given. Dirty and bloodied from the battlefield, we’re quite the sight, all squished in a bundle of chairs in the middle of a hospital waiting room.
Once Peter’s done, we all make our way back to the X-Mansion- or what’s left of it. None of us have really had time to process or even talk much about what happened, and we’re all dealing with our own injuries, so none of us are particularly keen on the idea of sitting around in a circle and talking about what’s bothering us.
Erik comes back to the mansion with us. I don’t know if he means to stay, and a selfish part of me wants him to, but I have trust issues because of Erik. I don’t want to trust that he’ll stay this time.
Erik and Jean help rebuilt the mansion in the amount of time it takes me to check up on all the students who were accidentally left behind in the wake of the generator explosion. No major injures, just some shaken children and overall general confusion, but everyone is all right, which brings me more relief than I’ve felt in a while, with everything that happened with Apocalypse.
Once Erik and Jean successfully rebuild the mansion, me, Hank, and the rest of those higher up in charge get busy ushering the kids inside. Almost at once, they all begin to scatter, diving back into their lives, and I send a quick telepathic message to all of them saying that we’ll ease back into classes in the next week or so, depending on how things turn out.
I wince as I leave the students’ minds, swallowing a groan. The gash on the side of my head radiates a sharp pain that prickles through my skull and out onto the opposite temple, like an electric migraine. No amount of ibuprofen will dull this. I can still hear the whispers of Apocalypse droning in my head, incantations of a plan shrouded in darkness. The end of the world.
I force the whispers into the back of my mind and address Ororo as she walks by.
“Ororo.”
She turns around and spots me. After a moment’s pause, she steps up to me. “Professor,” she mumbles, a bit awkwardly. She avoids meeting my gaze fully.
“Will you be staying with us?”
“For now. If that is…all right with you. I know I made things harder for your team back there, so if you don’t want me here, I completely understand.”
“No, you have a place here.” I force my tired lips into a grin. “Welcome to the school.”
She smiles. “Thank you, Professor.” Her eyes flick to the side and her smile falters a bit. “Oh, you’re…bleeding…”
“What?” I lift a hand to the gash and brush my fingers against the wound, flinching at the burst of pain. My fingertips come away bloody. “Oh. Well. I suppose I’ll get that looked at then.”
“How are you feeling?”
I meet her concerned gaze with one that I hope looks comforting. “I’m all right. A bit tired, but I assure you, I’m fine. Thank you.”
I can’t tell if Ororo believes me, but she doesn’t push. She departs with another group of students to find a room to call hers.
Hank appears at my right side, putting a hand on the back of my chair. He peers over at me with worried eyes. “Charles, you are not fine.”
I shrug. “I’m fine, Hank.”
“You look like shit.”
I press my knuckles into my eyes, fighting against a fit of dizziness. “Do I?”
“Yeah. You look exhausted, first of all. Second, you haven’t had a break since Apocalypse took over Cerebro. He captured you, then tried to transfer his consciousness into you- which he almost succeeded in doing, by the way- and then you had a telepathic battle with him, almost resulting in your death. You’ve done more with your mind in the past day that you’ve done all school year. I’m surprised you’re even conscious, honestly.”
I lower my hands into my lap, groaning at the increased pain in my head.
Hank steps around to face me directly. “Oh, shit, and your head is bleeding again. Okay, come on, we’re going to the lab.”
I don’t object, I don’t say anything, I simply follow him down to the lab in silence. I feel half like passing out and half like throwing up. Neither option is favorable, so I keep my mouth shut and my focus on Hank.
Once we’re down in the lab, Hank gathers some tools, pulls up a chair in front of me, and gets to work on my wound. He cleans it with antiseptic wipes, then stitches it up. I try not to make too much fuss, but occasionally I can’t subdue a hiss of pain when he nicks a sensitive area.
On the tail end of the stitching, I start a conversation.
“How’s Raven?”
“She’s all right. I looked her over and she’s resting upstairs. No lasting damage. She might have a bruised throat for a while, but nothing too bad.”
“And Peter?”
“Well, the doctors already looked him over and the cast already has plenty of signatures, so I think he’ll be fine.”
I smirk. Despite the pain I’m sure he was in, to kill time as the mansion was being rebuilt, he’d hobbled around with a handful of pens and invited the other students to sign his cast. Brightened even the most somber of hearts.
“When do you think we can reopen?” I ask tentatively.
Hank shrugs. “I don’t know.” He withdraws from my wound, finished, “We’ve all got a lot of resting and healing to do. You included. And with…” He rubs at his forehead, sighing. “With Alex… I-I know you two were close, so just make sure to take care of yourself is all I’m saying.” He pats my shoulder and withdraws to clean the tools.
My thoughts falter a moment. We were close? I haven’t seen him since Cerebro, but he…he just went back home, right? “What?” My voice is small, halting, afraid of whatever truth Hank is hiding.
Hank glances over at me from where he’s putting away the tools. “Hmm?”
“What do you mean we were close?”
Hank squints at me. “What? Do you not…?” His confused expression collapses into one of horror and his face pales. “Oh. Shit. Um…” He averts his gaze. “Charles, he…”
My heart rate drums against my wrists and hammers against my throat. He better not say what I think he’s about to say.
“He didn’t make it.”
He said it. The ground falls away beneath me, a yawning chasm that I’m plummeting into.
Hank keeps talking. “When Apocalypse captured you, Alex tried to save you.”
The nausea returns and it doesn’t pair well with the voices in my head and the migraine and I clutch the arms of my chair, trying to swallow down the bile rising in my throat. This better not be real.
“He used his powers, tried to shoot Apocalypse and get you back, but Apocalypse teleported. Alex hit the generator instead. He was…closest to the blast.”
Every inch of me is shaking uncontrollably. This can’t be real, this isn’t real. Alex was fine, he was FINE. He can’t be dead, this isn’t real.
“Charles?” Hank’s voice sounds far away.
The room blurs, maybe because of the migraine or the fact that Apocalypse tried to take over my mind a few mere hours ago or–
“Charles.”
I blink a few times. Hank is crouching in front of me at eye level, one of his hands holding mine. A few cold tears trickle from my eyes– oh, that’s what was making everything blurry. I inhale sharply and hold my breath, trying to suck in the tears. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry–
“Charles, talk to me.” Hank gives my hand a squeeze.
I shake my head and brush away the leftover tears. “No, we-we have to go back out there and try to find him. He can’t be dead, he’s Alex.” I wheel myself out of Hank’s grip and head toward the lab’s exit. “He’s too stubborn to die, he…”
“Charles, he’s…he’s gone. He– .”
“No!” I whip around to glare at him. “You didn’t look hard enough! I’m going out there to look for him.”
“Charles, stop.” Hank steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Please. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.”
“No. No, he’s not.” I clench my fists. “Get out of my way. He’s not gone. He can’t be. I’m gonna go look for him.”
Hank kneels down to meet my gaze. “Charles, he was too close to the explosion, he was…” His own voice trembles. “There wasn’t even a body to find. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I have to…I have to go upstairs and make sure everyone’s okay. I’ll check some of the other students for injuries. But you need to rest. Go up to your room. Process this, process everything. You haven’t been able to catch a break and your mind needs lots of rest.”
I stare through him with foggy eyes, hardly able to believe what’s happening. This is a dream, just a fucked-up dream, a nightmare. I’ve had plenty of nightmares about my students getting hurt. That’s all this is, I’m gonna wake up soon and everything’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna be in my room, it’s just another day at the school, I have students to teach, papers to grade… This isn’t real, THIS ISN’T REAL.
“I need to go check on some of the other students. But do you need me to stay with you? I can stay for a bit if you’re– .”
“No,” I snap. “Go. I’m fine.”
Hank blinks, caught off guard by the poison in my words. “Are you sure? I’m– .”
“GO, Hank.”
Hank stands up and turns toward the exit. He hesitates just long enough to say, “I’ll be around if you need me,” then he departs, leaving me alone.
Maybe that’s what I need, and maybe it’s not. But being alone after what news Hank just dropped on me is…
Alex. Is gone.
He’s gone. Dead.
He’s DEAD?
He can’t be, he…
Wait, Scott. I remember seeing Scott crying soon after we got back to the mansion, while we were waiting for it to be rebuilt.
Alex is dead. Why else would Scott be crying?
Alex is…gone. Dead. He’s dead.
He was so young, and he…
“Alex tried to save you.”
A sob bursts from my chest, hard and fast enough that it surprises me, and I fling a hand up to my mouth to stop any more from escaping. But the more I think of Alex, the more I can’t stop them.
I remember Erik and I visiting him at the prison, the hesitance that he expressed upon being greeted by two random men. I remember his excitement once he realized he was being recruited. I remember how quickly he bonded with Sean and how close they got in such a short period of time. I remember his grief when Darwin died, and I remember finding him choking back tears in the library. We’d grieved together in the light of the fire, each taking turns talking and crying, talking and crying.
I remember him being drafted for the Vietnam War. I remember not wanting to believe it, I remember hugging him so tightly, not wanting to let go, and holding back tears. I remember Alex telling me it was all gonna be okay, not even fazed, as if he’d been expecting this. I remember him telling me before he left to stay strong.
I didn’t. I spent the next ten years drowning myself in drugs and alcohol. I didn’t keep my promise.
I had so little time with him, so little time… And now he has no time left.
I try and stifle the sobs steadily building in my throat, but the more I think of Alex, the more my grief takes over. It robs me of all words and instead I communicate in the silence by doubling over in my wheelchair, pressing the back of my hand against my mouth, heaving with silent sobs. When before I’d been in denial, the harsh truth of it all is sinking in fast. Alex is gone. He will never breathe again, and he’d tried to save me. I should’ve been there, I should’ve…fought harder, I should’ve done SOMETHING.
And now he’s gone. And there’s not even a body.
We can’t even bury him.
I surrender pitifully to my grief and hunch over in my chair, my entire body shuddering with the strength of my sobs. The pain in my head has escalated, and I shut my eyes as the lab spins. Every sob adds a new rush of pain and dizziness. I can’t stop crying, as much as I wish I could, I can’t stop how every muscle is clenched and twitching, I can’t stop how my eyes ache and itch, I can’t stop how I’m crying so hard I almost feel like throwing up, and I can’t stop how every sob lessens the feeling in my face.
Alex is GONE. He died trying to SAVE ME. And now I will never, ever be able to say thank you.
I will never be able to speak to him again.
I will never hear his voice again.
I will never hear him laugh again.
My sobs find my voice, and I bawl into my hands, crying myself dry and raw down to my bones.
Charles
My voice dies first, then my stomach muscles begin to throb like hell, and every sob becomes physically painful. Eventually, my strength gives out and my full-body sobs subside, turning instead to slow tears trickling down my cheeks. One after the other, a slower, depressed grief, a new part of me dying with every tear that falls. I stare into my lap, my face numb and tingling. All fight has left me, as well as my will to live. I could dig it up, but part of me is content to sit here forever, falling apart, plummeting into the abyss of my grief.
A shadow flits around the open entrance. I don’t care to look up. “You can come in, Hank,” I mumble, my voice raspy and devoid of all emotion.
“Professor?”
It’s not Hank’s voice. It’s Peter’s.
I look up to find Peter standing there, his weight on his uninjured leg and both crutches under his arms. He’s watching me from a few yards away, a strange, unexpected guilt in his eyes.
Guilt. Why guilt?
I probably should say something, with me technically being the one in charge here, but I don’t have any fight left in me. Only tears, which are still crawling down my face. I don’t even try to make it look like I haven’t been crying. Because I still actively am.
“Professor, I…” Peter starts. He pauses for a moment, picking at a loose piece of rubber on the crutch handle. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it definitely wasn’t that.
I find my voice for a moment. “What? Why are you sorry?”
Peter limps into the room and eases himself into a chair beside me. “I heard about…Alex. I was the one who got everyone out before the mansion exploded. But…I guess I wasn’t fast enough. If I’d known he was… If I’d seen him, I would’ve…” his voice wobbles and he gets choked up, “I would’ve tried harder, I would’ve looked around more, I would’ve…” He sniffs and wipes at his nose with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, Professor, I tried to save everyone, I really did…”
I swallow against another onslaught of tears and I choke back a sob. “It-it’s not your fault, Peter.” I’m trying to sound comforting because I’m the one who’s supposed to comfort people, but I’m arguably crying more than he is right now. And it’s clear I’m not in the right mindset to be consoling.
“I know I shouldn’t be sorry, but I just…needed to say that.”
We sit there in somber silence, both of us quietly crying. I’m trying to hold back the tears that are still pressing against the back of my eyes. “You tried your best, Peter. No one blames you.”
A pause.
“I do.”
What–
I glance over at him to see his clenched jaw and tears inching their way down his own cheeks. “Peter– .”
“You said no one blames me. I don’t believe that.” Peter gives me a sidelong glance, and a face that is so often sporting a smile now wears a deep frown. I’m not accustomed to this much sorrow on the boy’s face. “People wouldn’t say it. If they blamed me, no one would say it. They’re too nice for that.” He runs his nails along the thick, textured surface of his cast. “I came here for Magneto. Instead I got wrapped up this whole mess, and I’m happy to have helped, but…I wasn’t fast enough to save everyone. I guess no matter how hard I try, I’m…never fast enough.”
His own guilt washes over me. I wince as I feel the full weight of his emotions, more tears pouring out of my eyes and cascading down my face. But this time they’re his as well as mine. “Peter,” I hesitantly reach over and lightly touch his shoulder.
He doesn’t flinch away. In fact, he leans slightly into my touch.
“You didn’t fail. Without you and your bravery today, there would be no students to teach. I have no words to say to you other than thank you.” I grit my teeth, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “We’ll deal with Alex’s…death…together. All of us.”
Peter nods. He rubs his eyes and wipes his tears away on his sleeve.
The yawning chasm remains, but it’s slightly more shallow than it was a minute ago. I need to teach, I need to nurture, I need to love. In that way, I’ll slowly clamber out of the chasm I’ve found myself in. Alex’s death will not be my undoing. I won’t let it. I have students to look after. And along the way, I can find avenues to look after myself too.