Story [X-Men First Class] A Different Point of View Completed 12/6

Title: A Different Point of View (though I think it sucks, it's the best I could come up with)
Author: MsLanna (and one day I'll get that username usable again, swear!)
Genre: General? A whole new dimension of beach divorce?
Characters: Erik Lensherr, Chalres Xavier with a side of everybody else.
Summary: On the day of the battle, things go wrong. And there is no time to make them right again. All they can hope to do is make them work.

Author's Note: My best friend made me do it. Swear! She visits, brings the film and the next thing I remember is making magento-helmets from aluminium foil. And this, my friend, is not a good sign. But hey, sanity was never an option.
I am doomed.

---

[u]A Different Point of View[/u]



Silence awoke him. A thick silence as if his ears had been plugged or all noise removed from the world. Slowly Charles Xavier opened his eyes. And found himself in a room not his. This would have worried him more, had he not recognised it as a room in his house which suddenly did worry him as he clearly remembered assigning it to Erik Lensherr.

He jerked upright, realising that contrary to habit he seemed to have forgone pyjamas. When he put his hand to his head and looked around he realised two things. Firstly, he was alone in Erik's room which was probably good news. And secondly that his head felt strange. Not headache-strange or hangover-strange. But strange-strange. And that was not only due to the silence in it.

A scream echoing through the mansion jolted him into action. In the last moment he did remember to put on [i]some[/i]thing, for which worn sweatpants of the mysteriously missing Mr. Lensherr had to make do. Charles sprinted through the hallway desperately trying to find out what happened. He could not hear anybody think. He could not - he came to a sudden stop that coincided with arriving at his own door.

Somehow, he was also sitting in his bed screaming and clawing at his head.

"Erik-"

[i]What did you do to me?[/i]

The question hit him like a kick in the head and his legs folded under him. Steadying himself on the floor with his other hand he found himself staring at himself. How could this be and why couldn't he hear anybody in the room?

"Erik?" Raven looked down at him with concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Erik? Charles looked at himself staring at his crouching figure from the bed, wearing the pyjamas he did remember putting on. Then he ventured to take a look at his hand on the floor. Not his hand. He looked up at the man in his bed. "Oh no."

"What is it Erik?"

"I think you better leave," Charles managed to get out. "He probably needs-" to be alone would have been correct, but not helpful.

He didn't have to finish the sentence though. Raven pounced on the opportunity to [i]do [/i]something and started ushering the others out. Getting up Charles slowly made his way to the bedside. He had imagined out-of-body experiences to be less inside a body. "I didn't do anything," he murmured at what had to be Erik in a similar out-of-body inside a body experience. "Close your eyes and think outer space."

He wondered if he really looked that much like a puppy even if he was reproachfully sceptic. But Erik did as he had suggested and his leaning back with his eyes closed seemed to calm Raven enough to make her leave the room as well.

"Can you shield? Somehow? Anyhow?"

It was difficult to look into his own eyes and still he was unable to look away. Did he glare like that? This was bad.

"Do I look like somebody who can shield?" Erik hissed. "Do I [i]sound [/i]like somebody who can shield?"

Charles sighed and realised that there was not as much hair to run his hand through as he was used to. "Sorry. I just. Gah!" He did remember, if unwillingly, how life was when you did not shield.

"I don't think 'gah' quite captures the severity of the situation," Erik ground out.

"No. No, you're right." Charles looked around trying to find a less awkward option. A look at his own drawn face spurred him in

 

Thank you.
I had such fun writing this. The two are just adorable together.
The idea is actually to have a softie!Erik without mangling his character. I can haz everything now.

Also, the subtext (which is not really sub, let's face it) is too much fun. They're pulling it off just perfectly.

The rest of this is in beta-ing state right now and I should be able to update next Tuesday.

 

Talking to Hank turned out to be difficult. The scientist was nowhere to be seen. His laboratory was ravaged and a crude note was pinned to its door, telling them to bring the crate marked with an x. Charles wondered if anybody noticed how he tried to keep everybody off Erik's back. Possibly not, because the notion that they were not who they looked like was more difficult to keep up than he had expected.

"We could just play along," Erik said so very softly that Charles might not have heard him, except for the fact that he was also in his head. They were sitting close to each other on the backseat while Raven drove. Neither of them protesting her protective behaviour. Life was currently difficult enough.

Physical proximity helped Erik focus and relax, so this would be the weapon of choice until they could talk to Hank. Though Charles had no idea what he could do in the time they had.

Because we don't have any. Erik chimed into his thoughts.

Charles looked at his friend, who made his features look all drawn and taut. Since neither leaning his head against Erik's should nor taking his hand was an option, Charles resigned himself to moving his leg closer to his.

Erik looked from their touching knees to Charles radiating concern with Erik's features. Closing his eyes, he leant back and put his index finger against his temple as he had seen Charles do so often. This is ridiculous.

Charles had to agree. Not only because physical contact seemed to have a calming effect on him as well. Though there is a certain uncertainty as to which body is his, or at least the one he controls or emanating heat beside him like a small supernova. He passes the time until they reached the airbase with thinking very structured thoughts about the upcoming battle.

Hank was not in the hangar. Erik and Charles looked at each other, the last slice of time for working on their current state slipping away between them.

"Where's Hank?" Raven finally voiced the question on everybody's mind.

"I'm here." Hank's voice sounded rough as he appeared on the other side of the hangar. Charles didn't believe his eyes when the young man came into sight. Though "man" was not the right description anymore. Blue fur covered a hulky frame and the glasses on the flat nose looked very out of place. He also seemed to broadcast strongly. Either that, or Charles was getting sudden migraine attacks that had nothing to do with Erik trying to keep a grip on his thoughts.

Charles was so busy thinking straight thoughts that Raven's appreciative tone surprised him, when she told Hank that his serum had worked indeed. Then he remembered his own role. "You never looked better, man." He clapped Hank on the shoulder. That was a mistake.

Hank's arm shot out, grabbing his throat with a snarl.

"Hank." Erik called, but the young man did not listen.

"Do not mock me," he growled slowly.

"Hank, put him down immediately, please!" Erik shouted. "Hank. Hank!" It was such a nuisance that the usual glare had absolutely no effect coming from Charles' face. How did he manage to get through life?

Fortunately, Hank let go before Erik could consider trying one of Charles' mind tricks. The former telepath lay on the ground rubbing his throat. "I wasn't," he ground out. Erik was not sure if the roughness in his tone was from being throttled or normal. The things you never realised when you were stuck inside yourself.

He made sure to pick a seat next to Charles in the plane. Hank looked appropriately contrite about his outburst, when Raven explained the Erik Xavier/Charles Lensherr problem to him. There might even have been a growled apology, but Erik's head was too full of Charles thinking with less than anticipation about what lay before them.

"It'll be alright." He patted Charles' knee. "We'll find Shaw, kill him, stop the missiles." From the ranking of the mission objectives alone it was more than obvious that this was not Charles talking.

Charles, looking like an unhappy Erik, shook his head. He could not disagree though, as his head was suddenly full of angr

 

Thank you very much, Mira_Jade.

I love the movie!canon, even if it is heartbreak and I (want to) fix it. It's just too beautifully executed. And with Charles severing the tie - Erik will just accept that. He is not Charles. *le sigh*

Ah yes. Shipping it old school. I do like that Patrick Stewart seems so much - not harder but - I don't know. He's seen more, he had to do more and there is less starry-eyed enthusiasm, though he will never betray his ideals. Um. Rant end.

It must be strange to see your body from the outside and realise all those little things about it you never stop to think about. What does my voice sound like? Can I pull off this expression or do I look ridiculous?

I handed the compliment right on to my perfect beta. She made me work on it so it was discernible as stylistic device and not bad writing. All those melds and confusion gave me quite a headache.

The idea was new and not a pleasant one. Erik did not like the idea of accidentally destroying Charles' mind. It was too beautiful for that.

The maelstrom of this scene was wonderfully written, but this in particular stood out to me. Yes, there is hate and revenge and chaos, but there is still Charles, and I love what their friendship does - for both of them.

Okay, thanks for that. I was debating for at least half an hour whether to put it in or not. I just felt so cheesy.

I am afraid this is not going many directions. Though, of course, canon to the bone is not an option anymore.

Gah! Their damned UST! It's everywhere. It ruins story, not to mention authors.

---

"You wish," Erik muttered, wondering if he always looked like a shark when grinning. He followed Charles who had stopped behind the others. They faced a row of mutants coming from the submarine, Riptide already had his palms raised.

Erik took Charles by surprise and his hand as he sprinted towards the beached submarine. He could feel its metal filtered through Charles' consciousness and still infinitely familiar. He could also feel Charles' anxiety, its focus shifting away from the mission towards hi which was comforting in an annoying way.

They raced across the sands, and Charles reached out as if it was the most normal thing in the world to rip the side of the submarine open with a gesture of his hand. It is. Because he is not alone. Because he might not have buried Riptide under the falling metal sheets. Because he was holding on to a telepath who neither knew his power nor how to control it.

Despite Charles dominating most of the thoughts reaching from the outside, Erik could feel the screaming agitation of the other mutants crashing against his mind. Still he let go of Charles' hand as they reached the sub only to find that the latter was holding on.

"Sorry," Charles shrugged. "But you can hear them even now. You don't want to know what it's like normally."

Erik nodded. Metal never clamoured. Though he wasn't sure that it had ever felt so vibrantly alive as it did through Charles' mind. He really hoped that Charles was broadcasting that.

"Where is he?" Charles asked as they advanced further into the ship.

"I can't feel him," Erik had to admit frustrated. He put his free hand against his temple.

Charles felt the next headache coming up as Erik cast his thoughts about. "The generator," he began, but Erik had already taken the rest of this thought from his mind. He concentrated his searching, zooming in on a control panel at the far end of the room. "Found it," he informed Charles unnecessarily. Pushing down the lever, he looked around the room.

"Remember," Charles tugged at his arm hard. "We're in this together. No reckless stupidities."

Erik looked at his own features on which worry and determination fought. "You know me-"

"Yes!"

The force of the answer made Erik's head swim. "And you knew why I came here."

But it wouldn't bring him peace. It wouldn't help... "Erik-"

He whirled around, feeling the warnin

 

Ha ha. I can't even see if my writing's enough to keep the cheese away.

I really liked the reversal. Charles could say things Erik igh never have admiteed. (Okay, we know he did ) but hearing someboy else say it gives it another kind of reality. And Shaw - I agonised over a credible reason why Charles would send the missiles back at the ships. Because you're right - he wouldn't.

Shaw was the only way out I saw. And since it wasn't all out there...
I am happy it works.
And isn't it all about the heartache? What would this bromance be, it it had worked out?

It's supposed to be oddly in-sync. Not only because I needed some way to keep the thoughts kinda straight in my head. But the reader has to feel he's getting the gist of things. Or he'll just asdfgh?!?!

Time wrpa this up.

---

[i]This won't work. Of course it will. You did this before. [/i]

It had taken time to get to one of the American ships, onshore into a hospital that was well-equipped enough to deal with a bullet in the spine. And one that had a doctor who knew what a mutant was when he saw one. And all that with Erik screaming in his head. And pain screaming in his spine where there was nothing wrong with him at all. For split seconds it helped to show how to dig up old and forgotten memories. There were many of those, but they did not lessen the pain. They simply added a new layer.

Doctor Bradley was swiftly efficient, even if his methods looked quite unsafe. He assured them that he knew exactly what he was doing It was one his own tricks. His cooperation became almost scary after he caught a glance at the number on Charles' forearm. The former telepath wished he could have browsed the thought the man projected at that moment just to know what was going on in his head.

Instead Charles held on to Erik until the medication took care of the pain and Azazel went on his next journey. While Erik was to mend they collected Emma Frost to work out what had happened and why. Her laughter had been quite exquisite. Her insights even more so. And so this could not wait, every moment gone by was a moment cementing the condition. Something neither Charles nor Erik wanted.

[i]Are you sure? Of course I am. It is not pleasant. It is my fault. It is not. Could you just stop bickering; you are not making this any easier. How does it work? Just relax. Who did it? [/i]The crystal laughter echoed through three minds. [i]Are you really so naive? No. Sure. Hey! Just relax and do as I say. Sure. No. Hey!

Charles doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to hold against his will, doesn't want to lose, but he does. Because Erik doesn't want to hold on, doesn't let go, is lost already. But not alone. But not like this. Because he's more beautiful as himself, nothing to change, nothing to alter, so different and still the same. Don't be like me. Be by my side. You're not alone. I want -

Remember the plane. Remember the pain. Remember everything. Because only the memory remains. Everything. Will fade. Don't let go. And I promised. And I broke. Does it Matter? Does it not? We are not alone.

Which is just the problem, as I'd like to point out. But not much longer. Relax and hold on. Remember who you are. [/i]

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Charles woke up with a pain searing down from the small of his back, down through his thighs, through his calves, through his feet, right into his little toes. He tried to coil up instinctively, but that only increased the pain. At least, he tried to cheer himself up, that more than likely meant that he would keep his legs. Right now that was not really an enjoyable prospect.

His mind felt foggy with anguish. He was not sure if he should be shielding or keep Newton's cradle in motion -

Erik! The pain soaring through his body dimmed as he reached out to his friend, finding him awake, unscathed, anxious, perking up - Charles snapped back i

 

Hey, du alte Papnase! Ich sagte alle Links zu allen Fanfics zu dir.



Well, I found this just now.



And I find it brilliant. I liked the X-Men comics of my elder brother when I was a little girl. Now that I am an old woman of 35 I do love Patrick Steward & Ian MacKellen as much as the cast of the new films.

So please, hon, do not forget me to show me such links. The life of a teacher as periods of frantic activities as much as it knows periods of boredom & frustration.

I like your writing style a lot, but I think I would not volunteer to read any university stuff from you.

So please, gimme the links!

 

I am sorry, Azure, but I do not feel like a fanfiction service.
Lately even less than I used to.
But hey, nothing but TRIDU still up and running...
Sir Ian McKelln haunted my dreams after watching X-Men First Class. Strange, I was expecting Fassbender.


Thank you, Mira_Jade.
I have seen so much bromance lately, I can't even. But I like theirs best.
Things should have ended happy. How can people expet us to watch the older X-Men movies otherwise? The beginning of X1 is so painful suddenly. I say reboot the whole thing.
You can get a nice version to read at Archive of Our Own. I love their format... (not to mentin their xmfc fiction...