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Xavier is dead.
Pietro takes in the news as calmly as he can and ignores Ororo's invitation to a funeral. The government could go get him there.
Xavier is dead.
The message doesn't say any other information other than that he's dead and when the funeral will happen. It slipped into his mailbox sometime in the night. He saw nobody. It doesn't matter because-
Xavier is dead.
Xavier, who was the closest thing to a father Pietro ever had. Ever patient, kind, forgiving to his mistakes and faults. Even when Pietro didn't deserve it.
And now he was dead. Gone forever.
He couldn't believe it.
Pietro sits on the floor in his destroyed little apartment and wishes he could close his heart. Xavier, the man who took him in, offered him a home, tried to see past the shadow of Pietro's father.
Xavier.
Is.
Dead.
Pietro rubs his eyes. It felt impossible. Xavier was as much of an undefeatable force as Magneto. To have one without the other? It was unimaginable. Impossible.
Pietro stands up again. He needs to run, to move.
He runs around the world until sun sets in Westchester. Then he waits, hidden, on the schoolgrounds and picks pretty pebbles from the ground.
He goes to the grave when everyone else had left and darkness hides him from anyone who may be looking out of the window.
He doesn't know what he's expecting really. Maybe he's waiting for Xavier's gentle words, reminding him that those who stumble aren't truly lost. Reigning him in, with a patient but mindly frustrated tone.
He's expecting him to live again. To have never died.
But Pietro never gets what he wants. There's nothing but a gravestone, adorned with flowers and burning candles. There's a smaller one, marked with Scott's name next to it, just as adorned. Yet another friend lost. He didn't know what and when it happened.
He would have come sooner otherwise. Were there other deaths? He heard about Jean some years past, but didn't dare to visit. He didn't dare to face them when he could have been there to save her, if he didn't leave.
Pietro sits down in front of the graves, staring at them for a while. A thousand thoughts move through his mind.
More people gone from his life. Scott - an ally, maybe he would even call him a friend. And Charles - another person with whom he'll never get to make this right again. He would apologise for his rashness now, if he knew it would bring him back. He keeps putting things off and then it's too late.
He numbly touches the grave. How were they supposed to fight this fight now? The humans have declared them defective, curable. Mutants were revolting. Many would certainly follow Magneto. Many would fight.
The war Magneto warned before was here.
It's not that Pietro didn't know the war was coming. He knew that since when he was just a sixteen year old kid and the president had first shown Sentinels. He reassured Wanda then that they wouldn't hurt him.
They didn't even have to use the Sentinels. Their hateful rhetoric was enough to drive his friends and family away.
Magneto's shadow looming over him was enough to deter anyone who was even remotely interested after that.
Xavier saw past that, he was willing to give him a chance to undo his cowardice and Pietro blew it. He always did and always would. He always ruined everything.
And now the war was here and Xavier wasn't here to stop them from destroying each other anymore. Pietro had never felt this lonely. This utterly and absolutely hopeless. What chance did they have to stop Magneto? There already were attacks on the centres. It was only a matter of time before Magneto showed up as a saviour of mutantkind.
Pietro drops his hand again. Was there anything left to do? Would the X-Men survive the death of their leader? Jean was dead. Scott was dead too. Who would lead the team now? Ororo? Logan? One of the kids?
He should check up on them. With Scott, Jean and now the Professor gone, they must be struggling. He shooes the thought away. He was never good with feelings. Especially this mix of all-engulfing grief and guilt.
He blinks away tears. He's slipping in time, he can feel it slowing down around him. The leaves moving in the light breeze go still, the buzzing of insects stops. He's never sure how much time passes when he's like that.
He slowly forces himself to get his mutation under control and make time flow normally.
Then he finally gets up again. He takes out the stone out of his pocket and places it on the grave. His last goodbye.
He feels as if he should say something, but nothing comes to mind. "Sorry." is pointless now and nothing else fits.
I should have been faster, he thinks. I should have been there and stopped whatever happened, got him away. I should have controlled myself. They wouldn't hunt me then. I should have never left.
But he did. Now he paid the price.
He sees the door of the school open and a familiar figure stands there. He's probably going out to smoke again. Pietro's hand automatically goes to his pocket to check for stolen cigars. There are none, of course they're aren't any.
Pietro knows Logan would probably like to come and talk. To grieve Xavier together. To finally see each other after so many years.
For a split second, it's a tempting thought. He can feel Logan's gaze burning into him. The hole in his heart aches for company. He hasn't spoken to another person in weeks, maybe months.
But he made his choice years ago. He left and didn't turn back, no matter how many times Xavier would reach out. He wouldn't ruin another family, he couldn't.
He turns on his heel and runs back home. He doesn't look back once.