Archive of Our Own

September 23, 2016

            The stench of smoke and liquor curls down Charles throat as he maneuvers farther in to the apartment complex, Raven's footsteps following, noisily. Charles breaths out through his nose and tries to shake the resentment that bubbles up his spine and turns sharply towards her. She rears back and glares at him, annoyed. 

"Any louder?" Charles snarls, "you want the whole building alerted to your presence?"

Raven snorts and shoulders past him, stomping (on purpose, Charles fumed) to their new home. She throws the door open and takes a step in, sniffs and looks back at him with horror.

"This?"

"Unless you have a better idea," Charles snorts and walks further in the room. It's dirty and disgusting, with stains on the mattress, and stains on the walls. The smell of cigarettes curl in to every piece of furniture available and Charles knows, it's the perfect place.

"I'm not living here," she fumes.

Charles raises a brow at her and throws his bag down on the couch, Raven shivers and he grins.

"Have any money left over from the reign, your highness?" Charles quips, walking around the living room and towards the kitchen.

Raven follows, "you know I don't."

"So I don't think you're in a position to object," Charles throws over his shoulder. Kitchen isn't too bad, he can work with it, he can clean, it. Charles mind whirls as he takes in everything he would be needing and how much money but stops when he feels a wave of sadness. Caught off guard, Charles blinks and turns towards Raven.

She looks everywhere but his eyes and walks quietly, picking out a room and shutting herself in it. Charles sighs and rubs his temples, feeling a headache pound throughout his skull. He doesn't mean to be insensitive but the girl is so ungrateful. Charles could have left her, helpless, at the mercy of the Lycans. He remembers it vividly. Charles was injured and blood spilled down a gushing wound form his shoulder but he ran throughout the castle, in desperate search for Moira, only to find Raven. She was a small thing, still is, barely past seventeen. Her gown was torn and bloody, her eyes were wide and endless and her lip wouldn't stop trembling. Her form wouldn't stop switching from different figures, from a old man, to the Queen, to the dead prince, finally settling on a blue teenager with yellow eyes. She didn't allow Charles to help her until he softly influenced her decisions because he could feel the other minds of the Lycans, right on his heels. And there she was - the princess, one of the targets, defenseless and so tiny. He couldn't not take her. It costed him greatly, somethings he'll never be able to get back. He rarely regretted it, but, days like this. He's trying. Couldn't she see that? She hates Charles and Charles didn't know what to do to make her see. 

Sighing softly, Charles starts unpacking. 

-

September 25, 2016

"We're doing what?" Raven asks.

"Looking for jobs," Charles replies and throws on a white shirt. He shuffles to the mirror and uses his spit to make his hair somewhat tame before turning towards Raven, who is still sitting there.

"Look," Charles starts, pulling on a shoe, "we need to keep our home somehow. I don't have unlimited funds, they were suspended after I was emancipated. The only money I  was surviving on was money I had left from my pack," wince, "as you well know - no pack, as of right now. We need a job to pay the pills, get dressed."

"Why can't you just get more money from the pack?" Raven whines.

"Because I can't," Charles clips.

"Ask Moira."

"No.

"Charles."

"God damnit, Raven! We don't have the pack! You made sure of that!" Charles snaps but immediately regrets it. Raven's face blank and then she's walking to her room saying, "I'll be out in five minutes."

"Wait," Charles starts but winced when her door shut. How do I do this? Charles asks, helpless.

- 

September 26, 2016

The vampire smiles eerily at Charles before blinking at Raven. Charles tenses and he counts down the timer in his head. 10.

The vampire continues to stare. 9.

Keeps. Staring. 8.

The vampire breaks the contact, Charles lets out a breathe in relief. It doesn't escape the vampires notice but he doesn't comment on it.

"I'm Bryce," He supplies and motions for them to follow, "we don't pay a lot but with the two of you it's enough to feed and pay the bills."

"That's fine," Charles smiles at him, oozing charming. The vampire cocks his eye and smirks, "you'd have to clean the floors and bathrooms every night and then lock up," he adds.

"Fine," Charles agrees and ignores Raven's disgusted sound.

"No," She protests and Charles cut her a glare.

Bryce stops and frowns, "why not?"

"Ignore her," Charles frowns.

Bryce eyes the two but eventually agrees, "okay. Every day. At four. Lock up at eleven."

"Got it," Charles hums and takes the keys Bryce hold's out. Bryce waves and strides away. Charles whirls on Raven, "what is wrong with you?"

"I don't want too! That's disgusting!"

Charles nose flares and his eyes flash, Raven takes a step back, "I do not care. You are being hunted and your people are being slaughtered like animals and you don't want to clean the floor?"

Raven whimpers and hangs her head.

"You have it so bad," Charles snarls, "now. We're going to get food."

Raven follows without another word.

-

September 27, 2016

The next morning when Charles steps out of the building with Raven in tow, dressed for work, the morning is uncharacteristically bright. The air smells like home, a chemical mix of pollution and metal. As they both walk the streets, Charles takes in the oddness of the town, now that he is able. 

Charles streatches his mind and touches the human minds around him, frowning at the first layer of emotion: fear. He digs deeper in a women's mind and what he sees freezes him to his core.

Four familiar faces stare back at him, the leaders of London's rogue groups. Charles would say he's surprised, but he's not. He hears about these groups but to have the humans scared, to have the streets so deserted, to not feel the Lycan's roaming around the streets, paralyzed him in fear. He was with the princess, for gods sake. The punishment would be death, at best, slowly tortured before death, at worst. She's being hunted, the rest of royal family members were already slaughtered, Charles mouth drops in horror as a thought from a women popped up, Raven was the only one left. 

He gulps, uneasily. He speeds up and hears Raven make a small cry before trying to match his pace. He doesn't stop until he's safely in the building for work but even then the lining of his shoulders are stiff.

He shouldn't have come back. They shouldn't be here. 

Charles waves Raven off as she looks  at him, puzzled. She huffs but goes to her working station. Charles lays his head on the cool window and breathes out shakily. London's controlled by four leaders, four alphas. Charles desperately tries to remember the faces of the four but it's like pulling at smoke, he isn't focused enough, too shaken and scared. The leaders are picking pack less Lycans off the street, making them fight in rings, and signing whichever Lycan won, to their pack. It wasn't safe to be a Lycan and wandering. Just like Charles and Raven. He set them up, he thought distantly. Why would't things be different between London after the Darkholme's fall? The ruling family no longer hold dominance and London is slowly getting swallowed by the new generation of Alphas. 

Charles thinks hard, scenarios flitting through his head. He has scent suppressant for his omega smell and Raven's royal blood, but it isnt enough. Sooner or later, the leaders will be alerted to the presence of two omegas with two mutant powers who are ripe for the picking. Sooner or later, they will find out about Raven, and Charles protecting her. What could he do? He can't do it by himself, not after witnessing the women's mind, the fresh fear that paralyzed Charles to the bone. He needs a pack.

A familiar face with dark hair and a kind smile flashes through his mind and his heart stutters before he shakes his head, hard. He won't go back to Moira, he can't. It was like a comedic story told in parts. A snot-nosed entitled omega met a human cop, one with warm thoughts and refreshing waves of intelligence. 

The story of Charles heartache went like this: (its quite funny, actually, he should have seen)

 - Charles meets Moira. Freshly out of Oxford, arrogant and self-centered. Moira knocks him down, figuratively and literally, loves her for it.

- Charles tells her about his Lycanthropy and mutant powers, scared. But, of course, she's fascinated and he lets himself fall hard and fast.

- Introduces her to his pack. She loves the dynamics of it all, especially the Alpha. Especially. 

- She didn't cheat, not really. She never let the Alpha touch her skin nor did she profess her feeling. It was obvious in her eyes and posture when he was near. She was cheating - only emotionally. She went ahead and fell in love with Charles' Alpha and he loved her back. Alex appointed Charles head of recruitment's so he spent his time with the kids, some children, some his age. He never seen Moira, due to that. It wasn't till after, after the whole affair blew up, he realized why he was appointed, he wasn't athletic, I mean did they really believe a telepath wouldn't find out? He was just sorry he didn't read their thoughts sooner, sworn by oath, so he had to learn the hard-way in the human language, the body and eyes. 

- He found out the day of the raid on Raven's castle, trying to help Alex get the royal family out of their while the other factions tried to decimate them, Moira had come and he witnessed first-hand what was happening between the two. After securing Raven, he walks out the back to witness a kiss accompanied with Alex rearing his head and howling before marking her and the whole pack felt it, the piece that was missing, slot in to place. Charles ran with Raven and never looked back.

- Not until, Alex called him a week later, worried sick. Charles, heartbroken and still healing, snapped on him. How dare he? He broke away from the pack, ignoring Moira's pleas in the background before hanging up. They never called again.

That's how the story goes. Charles can not go back. The wound is still raw, but it hurt less with each passing day. He had to get over it, for Raven's sake. He squares his shoulders and goes to work, he'll figure this out, somehow. 

-

August 4, 2016

After work, Charles drops Raven off, rattles off a time he would be back and specifically instructs her not to leave the house. Now, he's following a lead he got from one of the stray Lycan's he's come across, ever since being back. The Lycan had stared at him before walking away, Charles wanted to desperately talk, ask him what happened, who happened. He could't alert any Lycan to his abilities, though. He did catch images and thoughts of a specific Alpha with his pack, only thirty minutes away. Charles stopped searching, surprised. Why hadn't he felt them?

Reaching the site, Charles stops short just as the familiarity of the place hits him. It was one of the buildings Alex and him use to use for recruitment's when their pack first started. Before moving to the States, before Moira, just Alex and Charles and the other first pack members. Charles smiles, self-deprecatingly, before trekking up the building. Frowning, when reached the bottom, he knew he couldn't just enter. It was suicide. Alex also trained him better than that. 

Using a ledge from the side of the building, he hoists himself up and uses the rest of his strength to reach the second floor and lands gracefully inside. Crouching, Charles listens for a patter of footsteps, a smell of a Lycan, but gets nothing. He frowns, where was the pack? He tiptoes in the room and looks around, it has personality. Small pictures were littered across the wall, of - Charles squints and can't help his sharp intake of breath, of Alex?

This distraction proves almost fatal. Before Charles knew it, a cold press of metal nudges the back of his head, followed by a click. Charles tenses.

"Explain," a voice resonates, sleek and deep. 

Charles tries to turn to the owner of the voice but a hand, a very large hand, keeps his where it was, facing the wall. Ah, an Alpha then. 

Charles starts, "I would like to talk to you,"

The body doesn't move, "why?"

"That's what I'd like to discuss," Charles quips but regrets it when the hand squeezes harder than necessary around his neck.

"A gun is behind the base of your skull and you're making jokes," the voice drawls.

"It's a gift," Charles breaths but doesn't submit to the hold on his neck. And he won't, if he has anything to say about it. He lightly smells the air and frowns because the scent is almost familiar, hovering on the edges of his mind. Earthy and metallic, it rattles Charles to the bone, and he can't say why.

The hand roughly pats Charles down and he winces as they press against his past injuries but doesn't protest. The hand roughly pushes Charles on the bed and he stumbles and lands on his face, on the bed.

"Talk," the voice commands and Charles huffs but rights himself, mumbling about manners. He reaches out with his mind but can't get a reading on the Alpha, a shield was up, glittering like diamonds. Charles grits his teeth in frustration, he was use to having the upper-hand. The Alpha obviously knew about telepaths.

Charles sits up straighter and faces the Alpha, momentarily taken back. Alpha's were always good-looking but this one was particularly obscene - the chiseled face structure, broad shoulder, lean waist, dominance oozed from his pores. The air seemed to hum with him and Charles squints up at him because he's met Alpha's but this was different, the air seemed poised to his command. He continues to stare and the Alpha stares right back. Charles frowns in frustration but gives up. His eyes were impossibly pretty, not quite green or blue but a pretty shade of turquoise. The Alpha shifts and lays the gun on his thigh, Charles draws a breath, just get this over with.

"You seem familiar," Is what comes out instead.

"I should be," the Alpha replies.

"Why?" Charles curiosity runs rampant.

"Magneto," the Alpha voices and Charles mouth forms a small 'o.' 

"Erik?" Charles breathes.

Charles memories replays in his head, of the recruits, of one in particular that barely talked or ate, skinny and hellbent on revenge, who didn't last very long because of it. The boy who followed Charles around, who had a crush on Charles. He was always one of the sad memories Charles associated with his failed recruitment's. Erik was always so chaotic and depressed as a teenager and Charles failed to help him, resulting in Erik running away and never to be heard from again. Until now.  Charles couldn't piece that scrawny boy to this man in front of him - and it must have shown because Magneto, no Erik, snorts.

"You didn't think I would stay that way forever, did you?"

No, Charles wants to say, but I didn't know you were going to turn in to this. "Yeah," he says, instead.

Erik squints but says nothing, "You always did underestimate your recruits. Too busy stuck up that human's ass,"

Charles breath stutters but betrays nothing, "I'm not here to talk about the past."

"I have nothing to say to you," Erik growls.

"I need help," Charles blurts.

"I don't care, go back to Summers," Erik drawls and moves to turn away. 

"I can't," Charles says through gritted teeth.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"I can't," Charles emphasizes.

"You shouldn't have came," he barks.

 "I'm a good soldier. I could help you."

"So you can report everything back to Summers, no thanks."

"But," Charles starts.

"I don't need you," Erik explodes, "go back to Summers before I make you,"

Charles stops before baring his teeth, "I dare you. How long did it take for you to steal Alex's pack while him and I were at the States and trusting."

Apparently that wasn't the best thing to say to a angry Alpha. Before Charles could blink, Erik had used the gun in his hand to hit him across the face, hard enough to see stars. Don't black out, Don't black out, Charles chants. He lashes out, stomping on Erik's foot and raking a hand on his face.

Erik's face snaps back and his eyes are liquid fire as they stare in to Charles. Erik lands a solid punch to Charles stomach that has him doubling over, dry heaving.

"It wasn't his pack anymore," Erik snaps and moves to continue talking but Charles head-butts him, hard. Erik stumbles, German curses ringing through Charles' ear. Erik steadies himself and lands a punch on Charles jaw and Charles snaps back, falling back on the bed.

"Get out," Erik roars.

Charles spine tingles at the command, the Alpha in Erik roaring to life and the omega in him, cowering. Charles spits blood at Erik's feet and uses the window to see himself out.

- 

August 4, 2016

When Charles get's home, it's Raven asleep and the house quiet. It leaves him with his chaotic thoughts and injured body. He limps to the kitchen and patches himself up, barely feeling as the scene plays out before him.

Erik is one of the Alpha's, one of the more powerful ones, if his senses were correct. And he doesn't want Charles. Which in turn, meant he didn't want Raven.

Charles sighs and his body slumps, today's events finally catching up to him. He rifles through his mind, any information useful to him so he and Raven could stay. 

One piece of information stands out. 

The fighting rings.

-

August 10, 2016

 "Want to go back to my place, after my shift?" Bryce blinks up from his lashes, feigning coy-ness. A lifetime ago, Charles would be thrilled at the prospect of a night with a vampire who could give and he could take, the way he needed to. But now, Charles has a hole named Moira aching in his chest and a constant pressure of fear hovering over his conscious and he couldn't.

Charles throws back his shot and tries to make out Bryce's features in the lights of the club. "Gotta get back to Raven, soon," Charles said, ruefully.

If Bryce was surprised he didn't show it, only shakes his head and looks at Charles pityingly, "you can have fun and be the big brother you want to be."

If only you knew, Charles thinks, If only.

Bryce gives him one last look before taking a order from another vampire and mixes up the cocktail. Charles sighs and turns around, surveying the bar, alive and pulsing. Vampire and Lycans mingle and dance, the heady scent of blood and earth mixing together. Once upon a time, Charles would have been thrilled to see the two together and happy, but as he glances in the corner and watches a vampire take a chunk out of a sedated human and a Lycan helping, not at the expense of humans.

Charles plan is proving to be working, though. Charles sticks to overcrowded rooms, believing that the other Alpha' packs wouldn't target him and make a scene in front of other Pack's Lycans. It's when he walks home at night, does he fear.

For now though, he throws back alcohol like it was water, barely even feeling tipsy due to his high-tolerant immune system, perks of being a Lycan and Mutant. Charles lightly stretches his mind, touching various creature throughout the room. This is how he likes to spend his time, testing his limits. A thought pops up from a deep corner of the club and Charles sits up, immediately. He lightly touches two fingers to his temple and focuses on weeding out the individual, delving in to the unsuspecting mind. Charles watches a scene play out from the Lycan's mind. A shrouded figure in a hoodie demanding his Lycan pack to do necessary Lycan searching for new members. Charles frowns and looks deeper, listening as the figure tells the Lycan where the scouting would take place. 

Charles blinks back and checks his watch. In five minutes, another Alpha' pack would be here, looking for new scouts. Someone like Charles, who doesn't belong to a pack. He gets up, downs his last drink and throws a fifty on the counter, walking swiftly to the door. 

As Charles makes it outside, he breaths a sigh of relief. 

-

August 16, 2016

Raven munches away on her McDonald's, happy at the thought of fast and greasy food. She told Charles once that her family were never allowed to eat the "poison" the human's put in the food. Charles watches her, lightly nibbling on his french-fry. He hates fast food, but any way to gain Raven's trust, he'll do. It'll be much easier in the long run, if he tries to make her happy and willing to stay.

Not for the first time, Charles wonders why he's doing this. He's not a Professor anymore, not a right-hand to an Alpha, he doesn't have a pack, for all intents and purposes - the Charles that he was a handful of years ago was gone. He wasn't aching to read anymore, delve in to genetic spiels and research. He wasn't helping people anymore, he tossed that away when he tossed his pack away. He was tainted by the spoils of war and he knew it would happen, his ideals and optimistic would only have lasted him so far in the new world order. Charles watched it all go to shit, safely cocooned in the warmth of the States, but here he is. Right back where he started, living in it. If only he would have known. He doesn't know why he's so inclined to help and keep Raven safe. He thinks it has something to do with having no one but her.

She stops munching and tilts her head, confused and wary. Charles doesn't bother to turn to what she's looking at, he's used to her surprise at common things like cellphones and hot dogs. He slurps away at his water but she's still staring.

"Raven," he says, exasperated.

"No," she whispers, "It's just," she trails off and her eyes go wide. Charles gets the brunt of her fear before he's tensing and turning around, pulling her behind him.

Two men have a gun trained at them. One is obviously a mutant, taking on a frog look and the other looks surprisingly normal. Charles doesn't hold back as he plunges their minds and watches both of them wince and double-over. He doesn't waste any time in yanking Raven with him, running to the exit. His fingers brush the handle before a big metal bullet grazes his hand and he curses, cradling it as he drips blood.

The toad mutant is obviously still under a lot of pain from the mind intrusion and Charles squints, and adds more pressure. The mutant gasps but still rights himself enough to aim again. Charles tries to freeze him but his motor functions are blocked from tampering with, a blockade sittings there pretty, diamonds.

Charles only has a second to feel surprised, Erik's diamond blockade coming to mind and now this frog mutant. He knows their connected, another telepath is helping. 

He shoves Raven out the door, "go home." 

Raven stills and turns to him, scared. "Please tell me you're coming," she pleads, tears springing.

Charles gulps, the onslaught of emotion slamming in to him, making him lose his grip on the mutant. He can feel him coming. "I'll try," he promises before using his powers to control her motor function and she starts running, eyes glazed.

Charles only has a second for the sharp relief before a bullet slices through his side, searing. He falls, his vision blurry and the mutant knocks him on the head, effectively putting Charles to sleep.

-

August 16, 2016

"He's a pretty one," a girl's voice rings out. 

"He's a omega, of course he is," a man's voice rings out, oddly condescending.

Charles tries to keep still but the girl tuts at him.

"I can feel you, darling," she coons and Charles eyes slide open as the other telepath (finally) comes in to his line of sight. She's beautiful, blonde hair curled and blue eyes shining, looking innocent in a white leather suit. Charles tries to brush his mind against her, but the diamonds stay put. He know's, if he really tries, he could break through. He's too exhausted, so he doesn't.

"Why am I here?" He questions, voice hoarse and scratchy. The other man steps in to view. He's conventionally handsome and he has red shades blocking his eyes. Charles sees the familiarity in his face lines and tries not to show his surprise. This has got to be Alex's older brother, Scott. 

"It seems you haven't been listening," he starts and a slow smile spreads on his face, "a omega. Never thought I'd seen the day."

"Don't underestimate him," Emma's voice cuts, "I can feel his power. It's nothing to smile at."

Charles grins at her, obviously pleased. She rolls her eyes before helping him to right himself. Charles recognizes the familiar walls and pictures and he groans, of course.

"You wouldn't happen to be answering to Erik, would you," he keeps his voice light.

"Huh, Erik," Emma drawls, "now that's a name I haven't heard in awhile."

"Magneto," she points and then nods. 

"He's pissed," Scott adds.

"Why?" Charles squints. But he already knows.

"I think I mentioned something about you leaving," a voice drawls, low and deep. Charles tenses and eyes the figure that's emerged from the doorway. He's clad in jeans and form-fitting shirt, hair mussed. He was having a nap. Charles tries not to snort at his ego. He knows what Charles can do, and yet, he takes a nap. He's feel irrationally angry.

"You're not my Alpha," Charles snarls. Erik tenses and his eyes go cold.

"No," he agrees, "but you are on my territory. You know that." It's not a question.

Charles nods, "I do. I don't intend to leave."

Erik narrows his eyes, "leave us." 

Emma throws him a wounded look but lightly kisses his cheek and Scott walks behind her. Charles pretends not to have noticed it. It only feeds his fire.

Erik settles against the closed door, kicking one of his feet up. Charles tries to re-arrange himself to a more comfier position but it doesn't work and he can feel Erik's amusement from here.

"Fuck you," he fumes.

Erik's chuckle is a low drawl. A flash of heat crawls over Charles, he ignores it.

"You're not my type," Erik starts. 

"Telepath's are exactly your type," Charles informs and raises a eyebrow at the door, where he knows Emma is standing.

"The ones that listen," Erik agrees. 

Charles glares. As much as he hates being born a omega, it's still him, and an Alpha criticizing his worth as a omega slices through him. Erik knows this. Charles remembers telling him, after the third week with him, Charles had ranted about Alex and his criticisms and how much it hurts a omega and Erik had gently swayed him to forget about it and move on. Charles shakes his head, disperses the memory. That was with someone else, this Alpha in front of him is entirely new.

"Why am I here?" Charles asks, tone livid.

"Well, let's see," Erik drawls but his tone is frustrated, "I told you to leave. You didn't. You knew this was my territory. You didn't care. You also had the balls to attend one of my clubs and mingle with my Pack. Like you had the right." 

"You won't accept me, what am I suppose to do," Charles replies, affronted.

Erik barks, "directly disobeying my orders is one way to assure I could never want you," his voice cuts.

Charles struggles to breathe. "Erik," he starts but Erik silences him with a hand, the power emanating off of his in waves.

"Next time I see you, Xavier, I will not be so kind," Erik threatens, "leave."

Charles struggles against the feeling of letting an Alpha down blooming in his chest, Erik isn't Charles' Alpha. He doesn't want to be, Charles instincts needs to remember that. Charles knows what he has to do.

"I can't move," he voices, tone quiet.

Erik eyes him at that, Charles' omega in him rearing it's head, before calling Emma back in. "Uncuff him," he orders Emma.

She listens without a word and Charles winces at the wound in his shoulder, the world going dark for a second. Emma eyes him but tells Erik, "he might not make it back. He's lost a lot of blood,"

Erik curses and calls Scott in, "take him to McCoy, make sure he's patched up, then get his ass out of here."

"Sir," Scott nods and helps Charles stand, hand curling around his good shoulder. Charles leans in to him, scared he might fall but he glares defiantly at Erik, "I don't need your help. You were the one who put me in this position in the first place."

Erik, on his way to leaving, stops, but doesn't look back, "no?" 

"No. I don't need you," Charles snarls, unable to let Erik help him after he so clearly doesn't want too.

Erik doesn't say anything for a long moment but then he cracks his neck and reaches the door. He puts his hand on the doorway before pausing, "throw him out, then." Then, he's walking away, taking away his scent and power. Charles slumps, the room feeling oddly cold.

Scott smiles at him, sympathetic, "come on. Let's get you home."

Emma watches him, eyes sharp, as he leaves.

- 

August 16, 2016

"Charles!" Raven's blubbering, reaching out blindly to grab him. Charles winces as her nails claw in his injured shoulder.

"I'm fine," he insists, walking slowly in to the house. Raven's still holding him and he tries to extract her hands, but she's having none of it.

"Like hell!" she sniffles, "you're hurt. Let me help."

Charles doesn't protest and she patches him him, humming and running her small deft fingers through is hair. It almost feels like home but his mind is shrouded in doubt.

-

August 24, 2016

Charles doesn't want to do this. He so doesn't want to do this. He could very well die and then Raven would be left alone, having to fend for herself. But, that is why he's doing this. He's left her at home, lying saying he'll be back in the morning, that he's going to get laid. It worked wonderful, her countenance turned disgusted and she told him in detail that she never wants to hear him say that again. It was the only great moment of his day. He'll use that memory, to carry himself on.

"Can I get a number, please?" He smiles at the women and she gives him a big sticker to wear before asking him his name and role.

"Charles Xavier, Omega," he voices and tries not to smile at her expression. Omega's can fight too, it's just very rare.

"You'll be the sixth fighter to start," she starts and squints at him expression, "you know the rules. Don't you?"

Charles smiles, tights, "seen too many, not too."

Her expression shifts and she smiles, sadly, "between us two, I hope you get picked for Magneto."

Charles heart lurches but he asks casually, "why's that?"

"He's one of the bests," she replies, simply before returning back to work.

Charles face pulls down in a frown but he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads to the locker room. He eyes the other men in here, and ignores their leering. He counts three big muscular men and two lithe graceful females. One stands out, as geeky and awkward. Charles winces at him, knowing full well his fate. He must be getting the same reactions. He didnt mask his omega scent, as he wanted to show the Alpha's watching what he could do, as a omega. That he won't just have one role, in the pack. 

He unzips his bag, and takes out his change of clothes. He quickly strips and pulls on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. He laces up his sneakers and sits at the bench, leg jiggling, a sign of his nervousness.

The awkward boy comes to stand next to and takes a seat, "you ready?"

"I'll never be ready for this," Charles sighs.

"Me too," the boy agrees.

A horn blows and Charles listens as the referee announces the first fighter, "Armando Munoz! He's a beta with mutant abilities. He's able to adapt to survive!" 

Charles watches as a tall dark skin man, one of the big ones, walks out the door, and he hears the crowd roar. Charles watches the T.V and asses him, studying his weakness and ability.

As he waits, he immerses himself in to every players mind, knowing them inside and out. The weaknesses and the strengths. He sees why some of them are doing this and he winces as his empathetic nature comes in to play.

He steels himself. He has to win. For Raven.

-

August 24, 2016

Armando comes back in - bloody and unable to see out of one eye, but successful. He's won the first round. A girl by the name of Angel is on her way out, she's the second.

Charles knows she's able to get taken advantage of, her wings are her most priced possessions but the most vulnerable. Charles eyes another man, Logan, and knows he'll never be able to beat him. He's immortal, with metal claws and fast healing. Has no weakness besides patchiness of memory. A few years ago, Charles would be delighted to help him, able to help him get his memories back. But, now, he's assessing him like a weapon, see any angle he can exploit and win.

The awkward kid is named Sean, and he can scream faster and louder, which can cause someone to have a hemorrhage. He can also fly, if he pitches his voice, high enough. Charles knows how to take him out, but hopes he doesn't have to come to that. 

 The rounds passes by in a wrapped up blur of horror and anxiety - Angel wins but her wings are stripped, Sean was able to hold his own, Logan won with minimal injuries (of course) and its Charles turn. The other two guys ahead of him didn't make it.

Charles cracks his neck and goes to tie his shoe and tries to ignore the shaking of his hand. He's terrified and he hopes he's not projecting. He was trained in the Pack, everybody had to be, but he was the omega of the pack, in charge of educating the children, he isn't cut out for the deadly round he's about to partake in. 

The host booms, "Charles Xavier! He was trained in America," the host emphasizes and his teeth are sharp, Charles tries to maintain eye contact as he walks further in to the fighting ring, "a omega and a telepath!"

The crowd roars at the omega part and this time Charles does wince, feeling uncannily like he threw himself in a pit of sharks. Or a den of wolves. He laughs ruefully and tenses when his opponent walks in to the ring.

"Cain Marko! Hails from a long line of Hunters," the host yells and everybody yells excitedly as the last name of his opponent is suspended in the air. Charles eyes widen and he wishes, suddenly, that he never went through with this. Everyone has heard of the Marko line, the savagery and roughness in the way they kill their victims, being the second best hunter line in the world, behind the Shaw's. He's butted heads with Cain more than once but always had the protection of Alex to defend him.

Now, as Cain smiles savagely at Charles, eyes sparkling with evil and recognition, he does not have Alex's protection. Charles head spins as Cain projects thoughts to him, momentarily slamming in his head, not ready for it.

Charles thinks the referee has started the match and that is how he finds himself flipped on his back, Cain's throat crushing his windpipe. Charles tries to disperse the evil intent clouding Cain's thoughts and slams his connection to his telepathy off, everything sharping back in to focus. 

Charles uses his foot to kick Cain off of him, scrambling up. Cain's barely moved a inch and Charles is breathing heavily, throat tender and bruised. 

"If I don't kill you, you will be my Omega," Cain grins, feral. The crowd catcalls, laughing. Charles tries to hold down a grimace and doesnt deign to reply.

Cain launches at him but Charles sidesteps it, light on his feet. Cain whirls around, growling in his throat and Charles uses his chance, fist hurtling towards his face.

Pain blooms on his knuckles, accompanied by a sick crack of Cain's nose. Charles smiles in spite of himself and Cain whirls back, cursing. The stench of blood hangs in the air and Cain comes at Charles again, landing a punch to Charles' stomach. Using his leverage, he yanks Charles by his hair, slamming him on to the floor.

Air leaves Charles lungs in one swoop, hair tearing from his scalp, as he struggles to stay awake. Cain climbs on top of Charles and grins at him, snaking his hand under Charles shirt. Charles reacts violently, knowing exactly what Cain plans to do, the only way Charles would stay alive (if Cain decided not to kill him) was mate him in front of everyone. Charles slams his telepathy back on and freezes Cain above him. Charles breathes heavily and blinks violently to stay awake, conscious of the blood seeping out from the back of his head. 

Pain ricochets up his entire body as he slides from under Cain, legs wobbly. Cain's eyes tracks his movement and Charles knows his grip on Cain is fading, his mind not having a firm grasp as his head continues to gush blood, steadily. He scrambles to the other side of the ring right as his grip forcibly drops and Cain whirls at him.

He runs at Charles, rabid at Charles mind intrusion, and Charles manages to knee him in his stomach, feeling the muscles react. Cain reacts as if he doesn't feel it and keeps lunging at Charles, grabbing at anything he could find. Getting a secure grip on Charles arm, he twists it and Charles howls, as his shoulder breaks. Pain laces his every movement and he uses his other arm to slam a elbow in to Cain's neck, loosening his grip. Charles grits his teeth and moves through the pain, headbutting Cain.

His whole mind lurches and Charles falls with it, the wound on the back of his head, dripping. He steadies himself and watches as Cain falls back, his ass hitting the floor. Cain barely looks fazed. He reaches out and yanks Charles down by his ankle, Charles crying out as he lands on his face, face smashing to the floor.

A white-hot searing pain jolts his shoulder and he pants on the floor. Cain stops him with a hand to his neck, smashing his face to the floor, a nAlpha move. 

Charles rages, seeing red, the familiarity of the move bounces through his head. Only his Alpha was allowed to do that and Cain would never be Charles' Alpha. He thrashes under Cain, trying to get a upper-hand, and Cain grabs him by his hair, hand scraping against his wound on the back of his head, before slamming it back down. Charles blacks out, dimly aware of his lip splitting open as the metallic taste of blood floods his mouth. He feels Cain tugging at his shirt, skimming the waistband of his pants.

Charles tries to fight back, only his body won't move. Every limb feels heavy and his head weighs like a rock. Cold air hits his back and he knows Cain is going to mate him. To rape him. In front of everyone, so they know. So a pack will pick them both, a omega, a great addition to a Pack.

Dread curls down his spine and settles in his stomach, and he tries, god does he try, to freeze Cain, to control him, something. But his mind is gone. The wound is bleeding, and he's fighting to remain conscious with each breath. He isn't strong enough, his body can't handle it.

Charles hears the approval of the crowd, of the catcalls, of Cain mating Charles. The sounds accompanies a pulse of fear and Charles trembles, trying in vain to move his body. Cain yanks Charles around with his broken shoulder, growling in satisfaction as Charles moves like a doll. He grins, pleased, as Charles throws his head back and screams as Cain continues to yank and prod at his broken shoulder. Charles, a telepathic omega, pliant and subdued, under him.

The omega in Charles cowers and whimpers around his swollen lip and he licks the blood coating his mouth, "Please."

Cain throws his back, laughing. "You hear that? He's begging me to mate him," Cain yells and grins when the crowd roars back.

Charles closes his eyes and whimpers, aware of his mind flicking in and out of consciousness. Cain moves closer, his hot breath reeking over Charles face as Charles tries in vain to throw him off, before moving his mouth to Charles shoulder - a shoulder without a Mate mark.

Charles shudders in disgust before moving a trembling hand to push at Cain's shoulder. Cain grabs his hand and twists. Charles arches out, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, mind blacking out with another onslaught of pain. He's dimly aware of Cain's teeth scraping against his shoulder, yanking Charles head back for more purchase and then Charles is out, fear coating his every thought, his mind screaming.

-

August 24, 2016

Pain laces through Charles like glass shards, making it hard to breathe. He goes to move but the bruises blossoming across his stomach from Cain's fist, won't let him. He tries to shift, but his broken shoulder won't let him.

Charles frowns, petulant. Can he do anything?

His mind feels drugged, he can see the thoughts of people around him through glass. He can't touch or read. It's alarming enough for him to try and he cries out as his mind blacks out under his struggle. 

So, Charles has broke his brain and his powers, great.

It's also fantastic that he can't move and he's lying on something really cold and metal and his lids are getting heavier with every second. He tries anyway and is successful with sitting up, sweat lining his brow and he's panting. 

He's conscious enough to feel the bandage on the back of his head and the gauze surrounding his shoulder. He mentally assesses his injuries. Broken shoulder, check. Bruised stomach, maybe bruised rib, possibly broken, check. A huge wound on the back of his head, check. Bruised throat, check. Swollen lip, check. Not too bad, from what he's seen before.

It also poses a question of why is he still alive?

Last thing he remembers is Cain scrambling to rid him of clothes, to forcibly mate him, and god, Charles shivers, feels the left over fear slide down his spine. Did he go through with it? Charles doesnt feel mated and there is no scar on his shoulder.

He hops down from the table, wincing at the sudden movement, steadying himself. He walks carefully out of what he's assumed is the clinic for the rings and in to another wing of it. There's men and women scattered everywhere, laying on the metal tables, some passed out and some up. The smell of misery and blood hangs in the air and Charles watches as a man wretches in to a bag, one of his limbs twisted in a not very right way. Misery coats Charles mind and he hastily hightails it out of the clinic, bumping in to a women on the way. One glance at her confirms her of the woman at the front desk. She's staring at Charles, mouth open.

Charles eyes her, suddenly wary, and she closes her mouth shut.

"Hello," she tries carefully.

Charles frowns but winces at his lip pulses, "hi?"

"Are you okay?"

"As fine as I'll ever be," Charles says and thinks, for almost getting raped, to almost dying, to maybe losing my powers.

"Okay,"she exhales and he moves to walk away but he stops her.

"What happened at the rings?" he questions.

She rears back, surprised, "you don't know?"

Charles shakes his head she makes a understanding noise.

"Well," she licks her lips, "nobody knew if you passed out of not because one minute after you starting screaming because Cain was messing with your shoulder, he stopped and just, stopped," she says, helplessly.

Charles frowns, "I don't remember that. I passed out, then. What do you mean he stopped?"

"He just, stopped. His body went rigid and his whole body froze. He's in a catatonic state, right now."

Charles blows out a breath, "and everyone thinks I did it."

She looks up at him, "you're the only one who could."

Charles mind whirls and he feels dizzy again. "Thank you," he mumbles.

She smiled, small and sad, "they're announcing the winners. I hope you get picked."

Charles tries to smile but he knows it came out more of a wince. She nods at him before walking away, ponytail moving. Charles leans against the wall and lets out a deep breath. Is that why he can't feel his powers? Because, he overworked them when he barely had any strength left?

Charles goes to move but stop when an intercom buzzes, "the three recruits who were chosen are the following; Armando, Logan and Charles! Please report to the rings!"

Charles whole body swells up with relief. Finally. He's going to have a pack.  He moves determined to the double doors that lead him to the rings. As he passes the opening to the clinic, a face stands out. Sean. He's looking at Charles and his face is scrunched up with happiness. Charles realizes, with a start, for him.

Charles opens the door to the rings, hastily. He walks to where a group of people stand and know, by the power radiating off four of them that these are the packs leaders. He goes to stand next to Logan and Armando, trying not to alert the Alpha's to his presence. They all look deep in talk, vicious and glaring. Charles trails his eyes over the group and tries not to rear back when he catches sight of a lean figure, German consonants ringing through Charles' ears.

Of course, Erik would be here, he is one of the pack leaders, after all. 

The talking subsides and the Alpha's go to stand at their designate place. Charles stands side by side with the two other recruits, and the four leaders stand in front of him, with their beta and omega standing behind them.

Actually, only one of the Alpha's has a omega, Charles realizes, and knows he actually has a chance. He trails his eyes over the four Alpha's. One is tall and broad with a buzz-cut, Charles doesnt like him already. His eyes are sharp and mean and his body is coiled like a snake, waiting to strike. He's the only one with a omega.

The second one is a women with shockingly white hair and bronzed skin. She looks like she hates this place, Charles decides. 

The third is tall and with blonde hair, a little older than the other Alpha's. He looks like he's bored but his eyes are sharp, teeth glinting. 

The fourth is the bane of Charles existence. Erik. He's eyeing the three recruitment's with a leisure that would make Charles blush, if it was only for him.

The third Alpha steps forward, aims a feral grin at the three recruits, "since I'm far more experienced than these kid Alpha's, allow me to direct and instruct you. You will step forward, tell us a little about yourself and we will decide who gets to keep who."

Charles feels like a toy, he hates it.

"I'm Sebastian," the older man says, "Shaw."

Charles starts at that and eyes the man, he is the last of the Shaw line?

"I'm Ororo," The white haired steps forward, "but it's Storm to you recruits."

"I'm Stryker," The buzz-cut man steps forward, voice gruff.

"Erik," Erik drawls, "Magneto."

Charles hears Armando take a deep breath and knows that who Armando wants to go too. Good luck with him, Charles thinks sourly.

"Great," Sebastian claps his hand together, "you," he points at Logan, "you go first."

Logan cracks his neck and extends his claws from his hands, showing off his mutation, "I'm a mutant. My ability is fast-healing, immortality and metal claws."

The Alpha's whistle at that and Sebastian leers at Erik, "Imagine the things you could do with him."

Erik turns his droll stare to Shaw but Charles doesnt miss the spike of something, sharp and poignant, feeling towards Shaw, too muddled to decipher without digging further. He can't dig further, not without Erik's right-hand telepath, curled behind him, watching the recruits with keen eyes. Probably weeding out the ones that could benefit Erik and the ones that can't, Charles huffs, what an awful cheat.

 Shaw straightens and points to Charles, "you?"

Charles gives him his best charming smile, oozing appeal. "All great and mystical telepath, connoisseur of refined tastes and condescension," he pauses for effect and adds it as almost a afterthought, "also, omega."

Shaw snorted in amusement, "seems like we have a Casanova in our hands," He pauses and murmurs, "I'd quite like this one."

Charles gives him a smirk but inwardly he's glowing, finally. The alpha's pick up on Shaw's choice and Charles feels the disagreement in everyone's head. 

"You?" Shaw points to Armando.

"I can adapt to survive," Armando says before showing it. Charles feels the excitement ripple in the air at his mutation and Charles marvels at it. That is a groovy mutation.

Charles eyes all the Alpha's and focuses on their minds, wants to find out who he'll most likely end up, who will keep him and Raven safe. He immediately avoids Erik's mind, knowing diamonds sit there prettily, waiting for him to stab himself on. He reaches out and lightly brushes against Ororo's, she likes him but doesn't care for a telepath, she likes physical mutation. Stryker is a different story, he wants Charles, oh does he want Charles, he can see that clearly now. Stryker replays Cain's death over and over, watching Cain fall to his catatonic state, his figure convulsing rigidly before falling. He want's Charles, his intents are clear as day, what he wants from Charles. Another submissive omega, only this one is stronger and prettier and will be a perfect tool to experiment on.

Charles rears back in his head and pants harshly, trying to calm his racing heart. The rest of the Alpha's are talking now, and their Beta's watch the recruits. Emma stares at Charles, amusement wrapping her in waves, at his current predicament. Charles ignores her, too busy focused on Stryker.

Why isn't he shielding his mind? Knowing he's in the presence of two telepaths?

Charles hasn't shown what level telepath he is and he doesn't plan too, unless forced. Not even Erik knows how powerful Charles came to be, the only inkling they had was what he did in the rings, and that was when he was beaten and weak.

Charles breaks away a piece of his brain, able to manifest it to his will, before shaping it into a small snake and watches as it slithers up to Stryker, invisible. Charles remain stoic as he watches it crawl on to Stryker's body and enter his brain, through his ears. Stryker shivers but continues to talk. The snake burrows and settles into Stryker's brain and then scenes, not unlike a snapshot of photos, plays out before Charles. The experiments, the abuse of mutants, the superiority he has over mutants due to science, the camps.

Charles calmly returns to his body and becomes aware of his hands, knuckles bruised and bloody, aching in protest against the sharp fist he has it in. He slowly releases his hand, half bloody slits appear in his palm. 

Before Charles can turn to Shaw and read him, all the Alpha's straighten.

"We have who we need," Ororo voices, "Logan, with me." 

"Since there is only two of you, and one of you is a omega," Shaw starts, "we will be omitting Stryker from this picking."

Charles tries not to let his relief show but his whole body relaxes and that's when he feels Emma trying to break down his barriers, curious to his reaction. Manners, he snaps, I don't actively look in yours, refrain from mine.

He sees Emma tense, whatever she wants to say back she wants to verbalize it, but Erik has caught on and is glaring at Emma, Charles can hear, to stand down.

He can't refrain from sticking out his tongue, and Emma bares her teeth. Omega, she spits.

More worth than you'll ever be, he snaps back, but regrets it because he's not this person.

Emma looks ready to tear out his throat but Erik stands in front of her and eyes Charles, first time since Charles stepped foot in the room. Charles remains eye-contact, even if his spine tingles from Erik's greyblue and he feels his mind go hazy from Erik's obvious Alpha pheromones, emitting.

Charles blinks out of it when a stray thought of Erik's curls outwards and blasts itself in Charles face, the intent of his smell, the dominance making it so Charles will behave.

Charles tenses, furious, and bares his teeth at Erik. He is not Charles' Alpha, he made that perfectly clear.

Erik growls, low in his throat, and Charles body reacts to it, automatically. He takes an unconscious step towards Erik, pulled in, before a hand is gripping his shoulder, tight.

"Seems like your body responds to another Alpha," A smooth voice says. Charles turns to Shaw and blinks at the close proximity, of Shaw's blinding white teeth, and his power curling around Charles like a band of steel.

"He's not my Alpha," Charles says quietly.

Shaw hums and eyes Charles, up and down, slowly with intent. Charles tries not to wince but feels he's unsuccessful as something behind Shaw's mind, shifts.

"It's either him or me," Shaw croons.

Charles starts at that and tries not to look at Erik. He licks his lips, "you."

Shaw smiles at that, teeth gleaming and his grip from Charles shoulder falls on his waist, nestling him into his side. "Omega," he murmurs in the shell of Charles ear before taking a big whiff, right below Charles ear.

And that. That, Charles will not stand. He isn't here to mate with Shaw, he's here to survive.

He takes a small step back, nothing big so the other Alpha's notice, can't and won't disrespect Shaw's authority now that he's chosen, but the intent is clear to Shaw, Charles is not up for grabs, not now, atleast. Shaw's mouth curls down but Charles soothes him with a small smile. Charles stiffens when a clearing of throat breaks whatever spell Shaw's put him under, he is a Omega after all, it's in his genes to pay wholeheartedly to an Alpha, especially an Alpha who has picked him. It's enough. It has to be. He's the omega of Shaw's pack, now.

Shaw's arm tightens around Charles before he's lifting his head from Charles neck, grinning lazily at the other Alpha.

Erik's face remains stoic, "Shaw, we have things to discuss."

Shaw makes a noise in the back of his throat, "I remember." He turns towards Charles, "Don't wander off too far, I won't be long," he emphasizes the sentence with a slap to Charles ass. Charles jumps, ears reddening but Erik turns around swiftly, not waiting around.

Shaw winks and follows Erik out the double-doors and Charles watches helplessly as the two leave. Before he can go anywhere though, a dainty hand claws his upper arm, pain spiking.

Charles turns towards Emma and she drags him the corner.

"Watch yourself,"  she hisses.

Charles growls and yanks back his arm, "leave me the fuck alone, Emma."

Emma tuts, "I can't do that. You directly disobeyed Erik, you didn't leave."

Charles sneers, "he's not my Alpha, I don't have to listen to his orders."

"You idiot," She breathes, "you were rejected. You're a omega. Surely, you know what that means."

Charles feels cold. How could he have been so stupid, "Erik won't do that, surely."

"You sure about that?" Emma grins, feral.

Erik and Shaw leaving behind the double-doors flashes neon bright in his mind. Charles feels dizzy, he feels like he might throw up.

"No," he replies, horrified.

"Oh yes," Emma quips and points to the doors, where Erik and Shaw walked back.

Charles reaches out and tries to feel the emotions surrounding both Alpha's but Emma's there to combat it.

"Oh, honey, just wait and see," she laughs and glides to Erik's side.

Charles grinds his teeth and waits as Shaw reaches him, going to stand by his side only for Shaw to throw him the look. Charles insides curl.

"You know," Shaw starts, almost conversational, "when I chose you, I didn't think you were already rejected by an Alpha. By Magneto, out of everyone, the Alpha who takes in even the most useless of mutants."

Charles starts to explain himself but Shaw growls in his throat. Charles winces and lets his head hang when Shaw speaks, "get out of my sight."

Charles eyes water on their own accord but he straightens his shoulders, they won't see him cry. They won't. Charles doesnt remember leaving, he doesnt remember passing the clinic or Sean's indignant response, he's focused on one thing - that smell, the one he's so achingly familiar with. Earth and metal.

When he reaches the door to where Erik is, he throws it open and strides in the room. His vision sharpens as he sees Emma and Erik conversing and Emma's smiling and laughing and he sees red.

He strides towards them and watches as Erik straightens and his beta, Scott, jumps in front of him. He feels Emma outside of his shields, throwing all her might into plunging in his mind, and he doesnt care anymore, not about keeping himself and Raven safe, of exposing himself, nothing. Nothing matters but hurting Erik, making him ache, sharp and stabbing the way Charles feels it, taking up residence under his rib cage. He feels rubbed raw, the fights has stripped him of his dignity due to Cain, of Erik rejecting him, of Moira's betrayal and now Shaw's easy dismissal - Charles is tired of being disappointed, he is so tired.

He stops right in front of Scott and easily ignores Scott's warning growl, he raises and lightly taps Scott's temple, and Scott falls. He casually steps over Scott's body and faces Emma, who's gritting her teeth in concentration and Charles easily grabs hold of her from his outer shields and pierces.

Emma screams and hunches over, grabbing her head.  

He gives her mind one last shove over the edge before she falls, a thump following in her wake. 

Charles eyes her body in distaste and disappoint, it's not like he wanted it to go this way, he hates being this person. He tries to hard to keep himself under wraps but they've pushed him too far.

"Charles," Erik snaps, Alpha dominance radiating.

Charles head snaps up, furious, "oh, It's Charles now? What happened to Xavier?"

"Don't test me," Erik growls, eyes glowing.

Good. Erik's trying to control his wolf. Good. At least his wolf can taste the power emanating from Charles, it's not like Charles is trying to hide it anymore, never again, will he be at the mercy of these Alpha's. Of, god forbid, being disappointed again.

"Fuck you," Charles spits, "fuck you. Fuck. you. Erik."

Erik's whole body stiffens and he breathes out heavily through his nose, "Charles."

Charles is having none of it. His control breaks and he's launching himself at Erik, his body twinging and crying out from the pain of his injuries but Charles. does. not. care. He tries to land a punch to Erik's face, but Erik easily grabs hold of his fist, squeezing tightly, making Charles cry out in pain. Charles goes to kick his foot up but Erik pins it between his two thighs, whole body tightly wounded around Charles. 

Charles cries out in frustration and tries to yank out the grip but is unsuccessful. He throws his other arm out but Erik grabs it, too easily, and forces it behind his back, flipping him around, jostling his bad shoulder. Charles cries out and tries to blink away the splotches that's appeared in his vision, he barely notices it as Erik walks him in to a wall, until he's being slammed, face first, in it. He cried out again, as the cut on his upper lip splits back open, blood dribbling in to his mouth. 

"Get off of me," he snarls and then breaks, "why, Erik? I was going to have a pack!"

"You disobeyed me," Erik sneers in his ear. 

Charles throws his head back, hitting Erik on his nose, hearing a satisfying crack. Erik curses and lets go, hands flying to his face. Charles whirls around and tries to land another punch but Erik pins him with a stare. His nose is bloody and his figure shifts between fur and skin. His eyes are a bright yellow and his canines have extended. His body is tense, trying to fend off the impending change, and Charles can not move.

Charles stares, wide-eyed, at Erik. He's heard of the stories of an Alpha that can control almost everything, including a human body. But, he didn't know it was Erik. Charles mind flashes back to all the arguments and fist-fights he's gotten in with Erik and Erik let Charles hit him. That information is terrifying itself and suddenly Charles wants to get far, far away. He sees it now, the suppressed Alpha that's trying to fight its way out of Erik and the power that seems to ooze and curl around Erik, like the air is responding to Erik. Charles remembers now, the confusion when Charles seen him, weeks ago. How everything responded to him. Charles thinks, metallokinetic.

Erik takes advantage of his slight pause to throw his hand out and the metal table in the middle of the room glides over and in front of Charles, two metal sheets stripping clean before being shaped in to cuffs and Erik's controlling Charles, he realizes, horrified (and god, giddy, the professor and omega in him roaring to life, Charles smothers it). Erik flicks his fingers and Charles arms are pinning themselves above his head before the two cuffs are being placed securely over them. He immediately thrashes around the hold but its too late and he's stuck. 

He glares at Erik and Erik glares right back. 

Charles spits at him, so angry at his predicament, at Erik.

Erik doesnt visibly react this time but his eyes glow even brighter and he swipes the spit off his cheek before he's stalking toward Charles, and Charles tries to shrink further away, but Erik takes the spit and wipes it, almost tenderly, on Charles lips, grinning feral. Charles grimaces around the pain of his bloody lip, knowing Erik's touched it on purpose.

"What the fuck did you do?" Charles shouts, voice hoarse.

"Shut up," Erik snaps.

Charles thrashes, fury wracking his body, "what did you fucking say to Shaw?"

"I said, shut up," Erik roars. He twists a piece of metal in to makeshift knife and shoves it under Charles throat. 

"Go on then," Charles taunts, "finish me, asshole."

Erik stalks forward and Charles sees his chance and swiftly knees Erik in the crotch. Erik stumbles back and the metal weakens around Charles wrists, he seizes his chance and savagely rips it off and tries to maneuver around Erik's body. He makes it a couple of steps before Erik grips his ankle and yanks him down, pain lacing his entire body. His mouth arches in a silent scream as his shoulder throbs. He eyes the knife and crawls towards it and Erik stops him with rough yank of his hair and Charles whimpers. Charles uses his leverage to kick his leg out and swipe Erik, who lets out a curse, and falls on top of Charles. 

Pain explodes throughout Charles and he arches, trying to find some relief, shoving desperately at Erik to let up. 

Erik roughly grabs Charles throat and forces Charles to look at him and Charles doesn't want to look. He doesn't want his body to obey him and respond to the Alpha's, his body shouldn't want too. Not after Alex.

Erik's wolf is barely contained, Charles can see it in his eyes, which is why he writes off what happens next.

Charles kisses him. Granted, it was a stupid fucking decision but he's a Omega, and for god know what reason, his Omega responds to Erik's Alpha. Every fiber in Charles body tells him the same thing, soothe our Alpha, we're the only one who can.

Charles lips crashes against Erik's, violently. Erik freezes, eyes widening in shock. Charles huffs around the pain as his lip continues to throb and he pauses because, when did the inside of his mouth become so bloody? But, Erik's tongue flicks out (and Charles knows it was accidental, he feels the hum in Erik's mind, he's not actually intent on kissing Charles) and Charles vision whites. Erik's lips are hot and some tiny voice in the back of Charles mind registers the sound of cloth tearing; somehow Charles has yanked Erik's shirt hard enough to rip the fabric. Charles’s other hand is anchoring Erik to him, hand on the back of Erik's head, clawing him, trying to hurt, holding Erik so that he can’t pull away. Charles’s tongue is slick, already parting Erik’s lips to flick at the backs of his teeth. A dare, almost: a standard that Charles knows Erik must rise to meet. Charles pushes at his shoulders, desperate, needing some kind of leverage, to finally win in this game that they have going on. Charles bites down, still trying to get Erik to rise to the bait, and Erik flinches, hot blood spilling in both mouths. 

He rises to meet the challenge. 

Erik yanks Charles head back, pulling at Charles hair, making Charles pant and arch towards him, heat spreading throughout Charles entire body. Charles scrambles for leverage but Erik completely devours him, making Charles his. Charles is enveloped in Erik's heat and power, radiating throughout his entire body and Charles clings to it like a leech, trying to become one with Erik. He rakes his nail down Erik's spine, drawing blood, and Erik growls and uses his hand to fit it around Charles waist (very large hands, Charles notes) to stop him from moving.

That ignites Charles all over again, he will not submit even though every bone in his body is screaming for him to. Charles yanks Erik down, clamping his hand around Erik's jaw, before Charles is opening his mouth, licking in and around Erik's mouth. He chases the blood dribbling down Erik's lips and cleans Erik's mouth with his tongue, lapping at the blood like he's starved. He cleans Erik's teeth and licks around the swollen lips. He can taste both of them in the back of his throat. He chases a line down Erik's chin and further, down his neck, before clamping down hard on it. Erik growls and moves his hand from Charles waist to his ass before using his strength to slam Charles in to Erik, lining them up perfectly. Charles groans, eyes fluttering shut, arching into Erik. Charles instinctively gives Erik what he wants, he angles his hips and meets Erik halfway, harsh and fast. Charles pants as Erik grinds down, hard enough to hurt, and Charles revels in it. 

Charles feels the sign of the wolf trying to push through, his gums are tingling. He watches Erik above him, body tense and coiled like a snake before a strike, his muscles straining against the tatters of his shirt. Charles watches, as a trickle of blood from a cut on his brow streams down his face, strange, Charles does not remember putting that there.

Charles arches up and flips them over, body on top of Erik's, before he's resituating himself on Erik's lap and grinding within an inch of his life. Erik groans and throws his head back and Charles watches, transfixed, as the bite on Erik's throat stands out against his pale skin. Charles laughs, giddy, at it, at marking Erik. He leans down and licks down the side of Erik's face, chasing the blood, and smiling at Erik's big exhale. He throws his head back and grinds hard enough to move Erik's body up, a few inches. He's panting now, trying to relief the ache that's building, Erik's scent and power becoming too much to handle. Erik's grip on his hips turns bruising and Charles knows he'll have bruises and doesnt care all that much. He leans forward and puts both hands on Erik's chest, staring down at Erik, as he grinds slowly.

Erik curses, his eyes glowing. He yanks Charles forward with a hand to the back of his neck, claws piercing the back of it. Charles whimpers at it and grinds even harder, it's never been like this for him, this need, he feels it all the way to his bones. Erik yanks him down and breathes open-mouthed into Charles mouth and Charles can not stand it, it's so intimate, he feels like his skin is on fire. He fumbles with Erik's zipper and purrs when he finally gets it down. The outline of Erik's crotch is huge and Charles can't wait to have it in him, he wants it so bad, he's aching with it. He goes to pull it out when something in the back of his mind, shouts at him. 

He pauses but that's enough time for Erik to come back to his senses and shove Charles off. Charles squeaks and falls on his ass, staring up at Erik in shock. It's just in time for Scott to wake up, mumbling something about protection. 

"Sleep," Charles commands. 

Scott falls back down.

But, now Charles is scrambling up, horrified. He sneaks a glance at Erik, who's scowling at and zipping his pants back up before he's snapping at Charles.

"You can't find a pack?" he sneers, "so now you're whoring?"

Charles rears back, fury making him see red. His stomach rolls and he feels nauseous, disgusted at himself and for how Erik sees him. "Fuck you," he spits at Erik. 

He stomps out, only to slump in exhaustion outside the door, everything catching up to him. He doesnt know how long he sits there until he feels a hand on his shoulder and he's looking in the face of a smiling Sebastian Shaw.

"Seems I was wrong, I would like for you to stand by my side," Shaw smiles. Charles is too tired to question his motives.

Charles manages a smile back but tears threaten to spill.

-

August 30, 2016

"Charles! Darling!" Shaw calls from somewhere deep in the house.

Charles sighs, bookmarks his place in his newly acquired Genetics book, before pushing himself up and looking in the mirror. Shaw prides himself on keeping a pretty omega to show off and Charles has no choice but to agree. Shaw is also insanely rich, buying Charles whatever he wants and making sure his omega lives lavishly.

As if Charles, is his, in any sense of the word. Shaw's hold back, Charles can tell, from taking him forcefully but Charles knows - he'll only wait for so long. But, Charles doesn't want to have a mate, especially right now. He blinks back to the present and smooths down his cream slacks and pink shirt before he uses his mind to aid in his trek to Shaw.

He passes a chandelier, still on the floor, and he makes a mental note to make sure Shaw cleans it up. He's the one who insists on torturing people in the house, Charles makes sure he cleans up his mess. He passes the living room, where Raven's lounging on the couch, watching T.V. She loves it here, use to every rich item Shaw has in his house. She smiles at Charles and he sends her a wave of love before he's walking up the winding staircase, lightly touching the mind of Shaw.

He's in a meeting, Charles realizes, with two other men.

When Charles arrives, he goes straight to Shaw's side, and nuzzles his neck. Shaw grins and situates Charles on his lap. Charles eyes the two men in front of him, ignoring the glow of their eyes as at a omega's presence in close proximity, and touches their minds. Charles is at the forefront of it, their lust and admiration staining the image of him, red with passion. Charles gently preens but pushes the images aside, searching for what he knows Shaw wants.

He sees it, two other Alpha's conversing about a new raid, about staging a attack on another Alpha - Erik. Oh, he thinks, oh, he delights.

Charles rears back and blinks in surprise, "seems like Stryker and Ororo are trying to bring down Er - Magneto," he fixes himself.

Shaw stills, "you're still thinking about him?"

"No," Charles goes to say but Shaw pushes him off and snaps, "get out of my sight, Charles."

Charles winces and tries to clean up his mess but Shaw lets out a warning growl, and Charles hears the possessiveness under it, and doesnt even bother tweaking the two men's memories of this scene (they will no doubt tell someone to exploit Shaw's weakness, Charles really isnt too concerned) and hightails it out of the room.

He breathes shakily as he takes the longer route to his room, replaying the scene. He's been so careful not to mention Erik around Shaw, he knows how possessive Shaw gets, and his reaction did not help anything. Charles won't be surprised if Shaw comes in later and punishes him.

Charles sighs and his injuries from Shaw, from last week, still twinge. The bruises that stain his hips and thighs, a small cut on his lip. Small things, things that Charles isnt scared about, because he know Shaw's in love with him, has been since he first set sights on Charles in the rings, and he's not scared. Charles is more than willing to play the act of a submissive Omega for a pack and a roof over him and Raven's head, even letting Shaw reprimand him with small slaps. It's not like he has the luxury to leave Shaw, after all. 

-

September 6, 2016

"This dress is horrid, Charles," Raven complains, pushing her cleavage back in to the dress. Charles snickers.

"Sorry, love, but Shaw said your assets have to be on display," Charles laughs.

"Why are you laughing, aren't you suppose to be all protective or something," she whines.

Charles smiles at her, "If anyone touches you, you know what'll happen."

Raven blinks then heaves a sigh, "I forget how scary you can be."

Charles winks and laces up his oxfords before straightening up and smoothing his hair down, grimacing at his swollen upper lip. He lightly touches it and frowns at the twinge of pain, remembering all too well the bite of Shaw's teeth. He glances at the time before promptly yanking Raven out the door and shoving her in to a waiting limo.

"I haven't even fixed my hair!" 

"If we're late," Charles starts, patiently, "Shaw will kill me."

Raven quiets at that before sighing, twining her arms in Charles, "I wish we didn't have to depend on him."

Charles smiles softly at her, "Its okay, Raven. Honestly. You know I have Shaw handled."

Raven sighs.

-

When they arrive, Charles smiles a thanks at the driver and helps Raven out the car. He reaches out and lightly taps Shaw's mind, who startles before excusing himself and making his way out the door, to fetch Charles.

"Don't leave me too long, you know how I hate these Alpha parties. All this testosterone," she shudders.

"You say that now, but wait till you present, and then your first heat," Charles smirks.

She pushes at his shoulders, "you've reached your daily quota of smuttiness,"

"No such thing," Charles sniffs.

Shaw reaches them, smiling at Raven before taking hold of Charles and fitting him at his side. Charles tenses for a second and then forces his body to relax, after all this time, his body and his Omega still rejects Shaw's Alpha, Charles doesnt know what to do.

He knows Shaw can tell but he doesn't bring it up, thank god, Charles wouldn't have known what to say. Charles plays him part, smiling up at Shaw, only wincing slightly as Shaw pecks his lips, his lip still throbbing from Shaw, yesterday.

Raven hangs back and Charles wishes she wouldn't do that but he lets her this time, as Shaw walks them in to the ball. It's the same as all the others, Alpha's and their packs litter around, conversing under the twinkling chandeliers, gold lining every wall and table.

It's straight off of a fairy tale, if only Charles believed in them. Or, if only he wasnt a telepath. He feels the shift the moment Shaw, him and Raven enter, the fear, the anxiousness, the lust (for him, Charles shudders) all feel like knives piercing his skull. He abruptly stops, his mouth dry and his mind pounding under the onslaught of all the Mutant's and Alpha's, alot here, more than usual, he realizes.

Shaw's mind twists with impatience at Charles and oh.

"I'm sorry," Charles says, panting, "give me a minute."

Shaw huffs and walks off. Raven pounces at his side, latching at his arm and dragging him to a table, muttering under her breath, "I don't see why Shaw forces you to come when you're telepathy is too strong for places like these."

Charles waves her off, "you two are so dramatic, I just need to adjust."

"This is what Shaw get's for keeping you cooped up in the mansion, you're telepathy is latching on to anything it can to relieve itself, it's like you're harboring two wolves in your body instead of one," she hisses.

Charles is trying to pay attention, he is, but she's right. His telepathy is bouncing off every mind, feeding him information he has no right to, and he sees through the eyes of it, slithering around the room, in and out of the minds. He takes a deep breath and stops its flow, stuffing it back in to his mind where he knows, if it could, it would hiss at him.

"All better," he croaks. 

Raven shakes her head, "we need champagne." 

She's off, her blonde hair gleaming under the gold highlight of the room, form perfect, and Charles realizes, he's done it, she's grown up and she's safe. His heart buzzes and he lets out a soft laugh.

"Something funny, sugar?" A sharp voice drawls and Charles turns to frown at Emma.

"What do you want?" he asks, exasperated.

"Nothing," she hums.

Charles eyes her, not believing a word she says, but doesn't push it.

"Wheres your Alpha?" He asks, nonchalantly. It doesn't work, he realizes, when her eyes flash liquid gold.

"Around," She hisses, "where's yours?"

"Around," he says, tone bored. And then remembers, oh yeah, he should get back to Shaw.

He rises, just in time for Raven to arrive with a flute of champagne. Her eyes are sharp as they latch on Emma's and Charles makes sure to strengthen Raven's shield, emphasizing the off limits of her mind, with caution tape and barbed wire. Emma rears back, amused.

"Who's this?" she asks.

Charles goes to answer but Raven beats him to it, "read my mind, find out."

"I would, if your brother would let me,"

"Seems, you won't know then," Raven says before handing Charles his drink and walking off. Charles watches Emma watch her, trying not smile. My, my, this is something he could use.

Emma tries to gather her composure but fails, and Charles laughs, head tipping back.

"Seems like you're pack can't get enough of us," he grins and walks off.

He finds Shaw talking to Stryker, and he folds in the perfect facade of a submissive Omega, falling into Shaw's side. He slaps his telepathy off from Stryker's mind, not wanting to see what else lurks in his brain.

"Charles," Shaw smiles, kissing his neck.

Charles lays a hand on his chest and blinks up at him, "Alpha."

Shaw grins, pride flowing off of him in waves. Stryker greets him, "Charles."

"Stryker," he says.

"Shame that they wouldn't let me have another Omega," Stryker muses.

"Such a shame," Charles says and then remembers, "where is she, by the way?"

"Home," Stryker grins, evil, "she's not allowed around other Alpha's."

Charles snorts but stops when Shaw's mind reverberates in warning. He chooses not to answer and Shaw and Stryker continue their conversation about the next raid, something terribly boring, and Charles mind wanders. He's the only Omega here, he realizes. 

Then, his mind hones on to his like a beacon, bright and sharp. Erik's in the middle of the room, surrounded by a cluster of people, eager to listen to him. He has that presence, large and commanding, everything is charged around him. He's laughing, Charles realizes, his head back, his throat gleaming with soft skin, any trace of Charles is gone from him. Charles feels irrationally angry, he should be marked, he should bear Charles' mark. And oh, oh, Charles realizes, heart in his throat, that's who Erik is. He's Charles's Alpha, he's his. Charles wants to cry. It's not like Erik wants him. And Charles has an Alpha. Albeit, not the Alpha the fates have destined for him, as evidence by the uncomfortable air when Shaw so much as touches Charles, but someone who wants Charles.

That's why Charles is with him, that's why he has to try. Charles throws back his champagne, eyes still latched on to Erik from across the room, swallowing the champagne down like water. He needs more, he decides.

Do you want some champagne? Charles asks Shaw.

I'm alright, he answers back, distracted.

Charles lets him be. He makes a beeline to the bar, orders two more flutes of champagne. He twists in his seat, restless, as his mind reaches out tentatively back towards Erik, only for Charles to slap it away. He can't believe this is happening to him, what is his life.

A body fits itself next to him, "Xavier,"

Charles turns to the man, a very attractive man, but a Beta. Sigh, Charles thinks and then answers, "hello."

"Is the champagne any good?" The man prods, flashing a attractive smile.

Oh, Charles grins, "depends on who you share it with."

The man grins, wickedly, "then I'm sure it's delicious," he purrs.

Charles licks his lips, pleased. He goes to answer when he feels a flash of heat lick it's way up his spine, he only has a moment before he's enveloped in a cloud of power and metal. He turns to Erik, who's paying him no mind, eyes stuck on the mysterious man, eyebrows drawn like he's trying to connect something.

Charles tentatively reaches out to help but Erik snaps his eyes back to his, freezing him, "don't."

He huffs but stops, downing the rest of his champagne.

Erik makes an indiscernible noise in the back of his throat before he's caging Charles in, his power pulsing in waves. Literally. Charles can see it through his telepathic mind, see the tendrils of red twining around Erik before wrapping around Charles. Why, Charles thinks, is Erik rejecting him, does he not see?

He stiffens, heart hammering. Erik's arm snakes around Charles' waist and then he's hauling him up, as easy as breathing. Charles squeaks and grabs a fistful of Erik's shirt to right himself, body on fire. 

Once he's straightened out, he moves to untangle himself and ask why, but Erik senses his movements and growls, tightening his grip. Charles's wants to read his mind, so badly, but he refrains and sets out to do it the old-fashioned way, asking.

He looks up at Erik, the clenching of of his jaw, a tick that Charles shouldn't find so attractive.

"Azazel," Erik greets the man.

"Magneto," the man frowns, accent heavy. Charles startles, he didnt have a accent a couple of seconds ago.

"This ones off-limits," Erik emphasizes. 

Charles frowns even harder and tries to tug out of Erik's grip. Erik uses his free arm to pat Charles' head, a condescending move that reeks of Erik that succeeds in fanning his anger.

Azazel watches the whole thing but his eyes stay on Charles, "I don't think you have a say."

Erik stills, voice calm, "oh?"

"Last time I checked, You weren't his Alpha," Azazel drawls.

Erik nods, "then let's go ask his Alpha what he'd think,"

Charles speaks up at that, "actually, let's not,"

They both ignore him. He frowns, petulant.

"Let's not get hasty." 

"Why him?"

"Personal favor." 

"To whom?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"That is why I'm asking."

Charles hisses, "I'm right here."

Azazel addresses him, "would you like to talk to your Alpha?"

Charles frantically shakes his head, "nope. No. I do not. I don't even know what's going on but I know I don't."

"My men went to your house last week," Azazel starts, nonchalant.

Charles heart beats faster, "oh?" 

"They seen something interesting," he strokes his chin.

Let's not, Charles thinks, get into this in front of Erik, of all people. "Nice house," he agrees.

"Yeah, I guess, but I heard you were the best thing in it," 

Charles throws on his most charming smile, "So I've heard."

"I've bet you have," Azazel grins, amused, "I also heard that Shaw likes you bloody."

Erik stills. Azazel's grin, widens. Charles blanks his face, "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"They said he broke you," he adds, teeth glinting. He points at Charles' lip.

Charles mouth twists at that, a tide of anger rushing through him, filled with a mix of shame, a echo of a old wound, disappointment, at himself. His jaw clenches from withholding a retort at the man, at a public place, in front of a ball with Alpha's. He can't. He should definitely find Shaw.

He yanks himself free from Erik, who's gone eerily silent, and walks away. His mind flits in and out, searching for familiarity, and he catches sight of Raven, dancing with a mutant. He would smile, if he had it in him.

He breathes, straightens his tie, and plasters a smile, walking to the end of the ballroom and out the doors. The moon is full and a light breeze wafts through the air, gently caressing his heated face. He sighs, and sits down, head resting on his knees. He thinks of how it came to be like this, how he ended up here, a Omega to a man he's pretty sure can justify everything he's done wrong with a pro-mutant speech, and a brother to a dying member of royalty. How he's found his Alpha, and his Alpha doesn't know or care. How his powers are spiraling out of control, after the rings, distorted from the fight with Cain. How he'll inevitably end up mated to Shaw, then having to spend the rest of his life with him, with children, who will end up having to fight a war their dad has created. He doesn't feel a tear slide down until he feels it hanging on his swollen upper-lip and he laughs, in spite of himself. He's crying and god knows when he's actually cried. The fact that he's doing it at all and in an Alpha's ball, is comical. He thinks of the bruises littering his body, how he hasn't felt healthy and whole since moving back to London, his body the embodiment of how he feels inside, bruised and tattered. He thinks of how he lets Shaw hit him, how he desperately yearns for attention from other Alpha's because he'll never get it from the one who matters.

Charles sighs again, his body shivering. Atleast, he has a home. Raven's safe. If it means sacrificing himself, he'll do it.

"Charles," Raven startles him from behind, voice thick, "Charles."

He schools his features before he's turning back to her, face bright, "darling."

"Stop," Raven's lip wobbles, "Charles, you were projecting."

He freezes, "no."

"Sh," she rushes forward, folding in his lap, "not to everyone. Just to me. You were thinking about me."

Charles breath leaves him because he's thought about her and Erik and Shaw but he can't focus on that right now, not with a quivering seventeen year old girl in his lap.

"I'm sorry," she sobs, chest heaving.

"No," he soothes, "you did nothing wrong."

"You sacrifice so much," she tugs at his shirt, tears soaking his suit. Her cries are soft and dainty outside and he looks up at the moon, blinking back his own.

"You deserve it," he whispers in to her hair, lightly kissing her head.

"I don't," she sobs, "I was so horrible to you."

Charles chuckles and grabs both her hands, kissing them. He doesn't reply and tucks her in his neck, letting her cry. It's good for the soul, or so he's heard.

"Look at us," he tries, weakly, "crying at an Alpha's ball."

She hiccups and squints up at him, "tell me you'll leave him."

He's overcome with so much hurt it's like a wave, "Raven."

"No," she whispers harshly, tugging harder at his shirt, "Charles. You deserve so much better than what you've always been dealt with. And, I'm so sorry you don't think that. You are one of the most selfless people I know and I just," she cries helplessly, "I want to make you happy. Tell me what to do, Charles. It's not fair," she cries.

Charles gently shakes his head, "I can't leave him."

"Won't or can't?"

He throws his head back, looks at the stars, "does it matter?"

"To me," she replies.

"Raven," he starts patiently, knowing she won't take it well, "It doesn't matter what I want." She furiously shakes her head and he stops her, "It doesn't. I know you think so but I've rarely gotten what I've wanted and it's not going to start now. Maybe, I could have, in another life. But," he shrugs his shoulders, smiling bitterly, "this is my life."

Raven hisses but it's choked back and he smiles fondly at her, smoothing her hair down, "so, who was the boy?"

-

When they re-enter the ball, Shaw's furious. He yanks Charles' away from Raven, fingernails digging in to Charles' waist and he aches.

"Don't try that again," Shaw hisses and walks them to a group of Alpha's, "smile."

So, Charles smiles prettily, blinking back the tears in his eyes, knows they'll turn red. Shaw's grip is tight and he won't let Charles leave his side. When they reach another group of Alpha's, Charles zeroes in on Emma and Erik, side by side, laughing at another Alpha's joke. He also see Azazel, winking at him, before going to stand behind Stryker. Go figure. He plasters a smile on his face when Shaw introduces him, he asks Shaw if he can shake all the Alpha's hand, which pleases the Alpha's of his submissiveness and Shaw's grin is blinding. He goes around, charming people, shaking hands, smiling. He's about to get to Erik and Emma when Shaw's sharp command of 'enough' reaches him and he immediately takes a step back from Erik, mind already wincing at Shaw's anger, especially towards Erik. He goes to move towards Shaw but a hand turns him around and he stares wide-eyed as Erik gives him a smirk, before he's giving his hand, outstretched in front of Charles.

Charles blinks at it and wants so badly to touch, but Shaw's present anger is looming over Charles' like a storm-cloud. Charles winces at the image of Shaw back-handing him, sharp and stinging. He tries for a smile at Erik but knows he failed.

Erik's stare is impenetrable and intense and Charles desperately wants to know what's he thinking. He captures Charles hand in his own, hand callused and warm, and Charles has a flash-back of his hand gripping the back of his head as he licks in to Charles mouth. Charles flushes and shakes it, his hand smooth and tiny in Erik's long piano fingers. He steps back and in to the shadow of Shaw, who he knows is terribly angry and he knows he'll get it tonight.

He can't bring himself to care, not when Erik's finally showing him something.

-

"You look like you're having fun," Raven sidles up next to him.

"So much," he drones. He puts another flute to his lips, polishing it off and licking his lips.

Are you okay? she pushes in to his mind.

Always, he replies, mindlessly.

She huffs but retreats back to her own mind, grabbing his second flute before he can. He makes a noise of discontent but she ignores him and turns in her chair, eyeing the crowd. 

"You know who I've just seen?" 

"Who?"

"Moira," she answers.

Charles freezes. His mind goes in to hyper drive, feeling out the crowd and getting no familiar signature, he turns back to Raven and frowns, "I don't feel her."

"I know," she replies, "because she's not here."

"Raven," he starts, annoyed.

"You weren't listening," she snaps.

He hisses at her and she ignores him and continues, "I overheard something."

"Like?"

"The vampires are on their way here," she starts but stops when Charles clamps a hand on her mouth.

How did you hear this?

A pack is in cahoots with them, she replies.

Who?

A man by the name of Stryker, she replies. Charles gapes and feels like he's swallowed a brick.

How long?

They'll be there in ten, she says.

Let's get started then, he replies, grim.

She agrees. They split up and he heads for Shaw first, planting a suggestion of him waiting in bed at home, if he left now. Shaw does, with no hesitation. 

He deftly maneuvers around the crowd, persuading pack members to go home, exploiting their needs. He'll feel bad about it later, he decides, when their safe. He latches on to Stryker's pack members, the ones who don't know anything, and persuades them to go home and then adding a bad seed about Stryker, that he knows will grow.

He ignores Stryker, even though he feels Stryker watching him. Let him, Charles decides, knows he won't get touched with his powers at full capacity and Raven at his side. He'll deal with Stryker under the false pretense of Shaw, he does feel bad about using Shaw, but hey, survival of the fittest, he does study evolution after all.

When people are filing out slowly, so as to not cause alarm, he gets to the middle of the room and feels around Erik's pack. His mind is screaming at him to report his findings to Erik and not tamper with their minds, but he doesnt owe Erik anything. Erik views him as pack whore, someone who's still reporting back to Alex, like hes trying to take Erik's pack away. Yeah right, he snorts, like he's a match for Erik.

Erik can control him with the iron in his blood, for gods sake, he won't be trying to fight him again, especially how much it failed last time.

He goes around the pack's mind, swift and easy, planting suggestions and doesn't realize he's alerted Emma until she's shoving at his shields, loudly.

Yes? he asks, impatiently.

What do you think you're doing? she hisses.

He rolls his eyes and continues his work, annoyed at her intrusion, he's helping them for fuck's sake. Darling, he starts, as she tries to pierce through his shields, it's annoying in a tiny pin-prick way, stop.

Leave my pack alone, she snarls.

Oh, he laughs, delighted, at what he's found. She's jealous, of him. Of being the better telepath, of being a Omega, of what he has with Erik. Okay, he thinks, if you're not going to leave me to do my job, I'll have to do it another way.

Charles, she growls.

Emma, he says back. And then a movement catches his eye and he's looking face to face, with Stryker. And two vampires are behind him, the rest of the coven waiting outside.

Oh dear, he thinks. He doesnt have time for finesse and he stretches his mind, blanketing the vampires outside, whiting out the eyes and senses, disorientating them for ten minutes. He lets Stryker manhandle him, while he pulls his powers back in the ball, delving in to the rest of the minds, forcibly telling all of them to go home.

Go home, Emma, he says and feels her resisting but he pushes back and she goes slack, falling in line. He breathes out a sight of relief but tenses again when he feels Erik mind, still in the room. 

He goes straight in to his but is blocked out by a wall. He grits his teeth and manages to smash Emma's diamonds, but then he's facing a wall with impenetrable metal. He goes to break it but his head snaps to the side, cheek throbbing. 

He lifts his head to look at Stryker in shock, a small cut of blood on the side of his cheek. 

"Put the helmet on him," Stryker commands.

The vampires move to do just that but Charles stops them cold. 

"I don't think they'll be doing anything," he smiles. And then he's reaching in, unraveling Stryker.

-

He straightens and glances at his watch, four minutes, not bad, especially for turning an Alpha into a vegetable. He eyes Stryker, passed out on the floor, lips purple and blood pooling from his mouth. He shudders in disgust.

He lightly reaches out for Raven and gets a wave of exhaustion and he knows she's waiting for him in the limo. He pats down his suit and hair and walks over Stryker, straight to the double doors. 

Charles? Raven asks, are you coming?

On my way, he replies.

- 

September 15, 2016

"Charles," Raven asks, voice soft.

He looks up from his book and fixes her with a loving smile, beckoning her in the room. She folds herself on his couch and caresses the pillow with her hand, thoughts turbulent. He puts his book down.

"What is it?" 

"I just," she bites her lip, "I can't help but wonder, Charles. I know I shouldn't because it won't help, but," she shrugs helplessly. "I was wondering if we could do a little digging, maybe find out the reason behind the rebellion?"

Charles eyes widen but he covers it quickly, "of course."

"Don't look at me like that," Ravens says, voice stern, "this isn't me actively searching out my dead family because I know, Charles, but I would like to know why," she stresses.

Charles smiles at her fire, "I have a book I think you should start out with." He gets up and walks along his book-case, fingers trailing over the spines before finding it, plucking it out. It's thick and ancient, spine falling apart. He hands it to Raven, who stares at it.

"It's the Darkholmes' history," Charles voices.

She looks up, eyes bright, "thank you."

-

Once upon a time, the Xavier family was one of the noble houses of London, the scientists of London backing the Royal family. The influence is long gone now, but Charles can't help but ponder what if, his Dad never died in the accident, if he stood growing up with Raven by his side, would things be different?

He lightly caresses his old genetics book, the heavy weight familiar in a soothing way. It's old and torn, highlight and annotations spilling out on every page, back when Charles' was freshly out of Oxford, studying diligently to become a professor.

He can vaguely make out Alex's scent curling in the book, late nights of his teasing and snacking, lounging around Charles' dorm while Charles tried to study, only to succeed in getting distracted by the Star Wars movies Alex seemed to love so much. It seemed so long ago but it was only a couple of years. Charles feels war-tired, the marrow of his very bones, tired. He remembers trying to study but Alex's bright eyes seemed to want to explore, roping Charles in the tour of the States. And that's the beginning of the end, Charles thinks miserably. The pack-less wolves Alex seemed to take in, the way he asserted himself, fitting him and Charles in the lives of the pack they seemed to create, without trying. He remembers Alex coaxing him out of his book, both of them happy, Charles just getting his second Doctorate, and taking him to a bar. He remembers long shiny brown hair and a small crease in her brow, lips thinned, unimpressed at Charles pick up lines. Her reluctant replies to give Charles a chance until she did, and that was that.

Charles is still so angry but it's muted now. It's a dull throb when he thinks about it, instead of the sharp pain it use to be every time he so much as breathed. He can't be mad at Alex for finding his mate, it's the fate's decision, after all. Charles just wasn't for Moira and Charles wonders bitterly if he's meant for anyone. He's always been a Omega, but it's ironic, the Omega's are the first pick's and yet, all his life, he's been the last one. 

He pushes the book away, his stomach churning, standing up. He grabs his coat and walks to the door, shutting it softly. He walks down the narrow hallways of Shaw's mansion and makes halfway there when he's stopped by Shaw.

"Where are you going?" Shaw asks.

"The library," Charles responds.

Shaw eyes him, distrust shrouding his mind but he nods his assent, "be back in a hour."

Charles smiles, close-lipped, and turns away. Shaw pulls him back and kisses him, tries to make it nice but it's wet and too much teeth. Charles tries to get into but he's fails, and he pulls himself from Shaw's grasp and gently closes the door behind him.

-

London has the biggest library in the world and that's one thing Charles has missed. He smiles softly at the librarian and goes straight to the History section and goes to searching. He finds another book about Raven's family and tucks it under his arm and continues to search, pausing momentarily, when a familiar last name stands out.

Stryker. 

He grabs that too and swiftly shoves it under his arm, turning and promptly running into a body. The familiarity of the mind blares at him and he has a second to defend himself before he's out with a swift knock to his temple.

-

When he awakens, its to darkness. Physically and literally. Charles can't see but he can't feel, either. His telepathy is firmly secured inside his head, lashing out, and trying to grab on to anything. But, he can't. He tells himself to calm down, but he can't see. He can't feel.

He sits up sharply, ignoring the roll of his stomach, the pounding of his temples. He can't see anything in the room but that should be no problem - in trying to reach out, but theirs a blockade, from him to the very walls.

Horror seeps him, slowly at first, but roaring by the time he's tried, well, everything. He stumbles off of the bed and reaches blindly out, knocking over things littered on the table. He walks, hip first, but barely registers it over the whimpering of his wolf.

She's scared, Charles realized, terrified. She's never been this terrified, even with Cain.

Charles inhales sharply and races to the door, yanking but it's not budging. His desperation grows and then he's kicking at it, clawing, barely registering the sparks of pain in his fingernails. He's shouting, body trembling, for somebody.

A stomp of footsteps are heard and he reacts, slowly stepping back and letting the person through. He eagerly latches on to the brain but cries out because there is nothing there. The person flips on the light and his senses sting, sensitive and he whimpers, tripping.

He lands on his side, and he looks up at the person. It's Azazel, but this time, with a helmet around his head. Charles glares at it.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Azazel croons.

"What's going on?" He asks, voice horse. He winces.

"You're our guest," Azazel says.

"Why/" Charles whimpers, so tired.

"You'll find out soon enough," He says before he's crouching in front of Charles and wiping away the sweat that he's bathed in. Charles flinches away and crawls back, until his back touches the bed.

Azazel sighs and his eyes turn soft, "you are an exquisite creature and it's heartbreaking knowing we'll have to break you." 

He walks away.

Charles tries not to cry, exhaustion curling deep in his veins.

-

Unknown

Charles doesnt know when they come, can't tell whether it's day or night. He doesn't know how long it's been, if it's been a week, or a month. The days blend together, his wolf is silent now, the connection gone, and his telepathy is dried up, brittle.

He doesn't feel quite like trying, anymore. He sees the shape of his nightmares, coming back in, making his rounds. A helmet gleams in the room as if taunting Charles.

"Charles," he purrs.

"Stryker," he replies, voice monotone. He remember when Stryker first visited him, his sheer terror at Stryker's rejuvenation, that he wasn't dead at the Alpha's ball, that Stryker had developed a serum for blocking Charles' power. It was the first time Charles ever felt at the mercy of someone.

"Oh, don't be like that," Stryker lips curl, "why, just last night, we had fun, didn't we?"

Charles flinches at the reminder, at the dirt he feels clinging to his very soul, the grittiness he knows he'll never be able to get rid off. His body twinges at the memory, of his intrusion, in body and spirit. He tries to remain strong in front of him but they both know he's not. The evidence is in the self-satisfied smile, the gait of his walk, the curl of his lips. Stryker is in control, and Charles has a feeling, he will be for a long, long time.

Charles doesnt deign to reply but Stryker continues on anyway, "I thought you quite liked our time together. Both in bed and in the lab."

His smile is evil and Charles can't breath. His mind flashes, the metal, the shocks, the needles.

He spits at Stryker's feet.

It comes out bloody.

-

Unknown

Sometimes, he can hear voices. They taint his dreams, painting them a murky grey, he can't decipher who it is. If it's more than one person, boy or girl, or if he's gone complete neurotic. Sometimes, he thinks it'll be better that way. Raven's in a capable Alpha hands, he knows Shaw won't kick her out without him there, she's proven far too useful. And, contrary to popular belief, he wants all the mutants he can get. It'll level the play field with Erik, Shaw thinks and Charles hears.

It's okay, if it's finally time to let go. He's beyond tired, some days his limbs are incapable of moving, his brain won't push the motivation for it. He hates those days. They drag him on the cold hard ground and hose him down before applying the electro-shocks, more painful then anything he's every felt, the water magnifying the pain.

His throat is dried up from the lack of use and scarred. Force-feeding with a tube doesn't agree with his throat.

His wolf barely stirs, taking to the inner-corner of Charles mind he knows he can't reach, not without help, and she doesn't want it. He felt her, the last day she was really with him, her timid nature finally buckling under the onslaught of things that he couldn't control. It enraged him, how the fates gave him this beautiful Omega wolf, to harbor and keep safe, but paired her with him, and all he's ever done to her is let her down, get her beaten, break her spirit. He couldn't even get her, her rightful Alpha, for Christ sake. 

-

He woke up to a stamp of pain, flesh searing. He looked in to the eyes of Stryker as he stuck a poker on Charles hip, effectively labeling Charles as a project, a lab experiment, Stryker's.

-

Unknown

Everything blends together. Charles isn't harboring hope for escape, he only knows the familiarity of Stryker's smell and Azazel soothing voice. It's almost a balm of some sorts, when his telepathy is acting out, or when his soul echoes out the lonely song of a dead wolf. It's familiar and he knows what to expect.

Until he doesn't.

He still doesnt know the date, if it's day or night, if he's underground or in a lab, deep under sea. He's heard the stories of Stryker when he was with Shaw, grazed the mind, that fateful day of recruitment. He knows what Stryker's capable of and he's not kidding himself, he know's no one is able to rescue him because they won't be able to find him. 

Familiarity is something Charles craves because being blindsided is something he was never use too, courtesy of his gift. So, when it happens, now that he can't use his abilities, he doesnt react well. He can't sense the change, the light-switch in a person's mind, nothing. After his imprisonment, his mind desperately craves normality and familiarity, and Stryker's gave it to him.

Stryker wouldn't have earned his name, without his ruthlessness, and he also takes it all away, when he knew Charles needed it. Charles cant express his hate for the man, sharp and burning, sometimes burning throughout his entire body and licking his mind with the flames. Sharp and stabbing, it consumed Charles, every curl of Stryker's smile, amusement at his predicament practically radiating out of his body.

He ordered Azazel to blind-fold him and then slapped a helmet over his head, walking out of the room, and in to a hallway. Charles' senses twitched, his mind noting the change of setting, before he's being pulled in to car.

They drive for a long, long, long, time. Charles' body aches from being cramped, his senses deprived, he sees bursts of colors, stripes, abstract shapes, under his eyelids, exploding in bright vibrant colors. 

He's sensory deprived, he thinks, laughing. He remembers studying the Caves of Lascaux in France, the cave paintings that they called The Great Hall of Bulls that pictured strong animals with abstract dots and shapes entwined throughout the pictures. Scientists thought they pictured a ritual of some sort, but turns out our ancestors were sensory deprived, which in turn, made them paint the explosions of shapes and colors that painted their eye-lids and intertwined themselves with the paintings of the animals.

-

Unknown

"Charles," A voiced hisses, rousing him from his sleep. He flips up, heart thumping, thinking that Stryker's back for another round, that he'll bear more bruises from their night, throbs at him. He looks around the room, wildly, only to see Azazel staring at him.

He's different, Charles thinks and cocks his head, taking note of his messy hair and his usual immaculate suits pressed down for perfection, only to be rumpled and is that a stain?

"Charles," He hisses again and yanks Charles off the bed. Charles yelps at the sudden press of a forceful hand on a bruise on his forearm. Azazel hastily apologizes but continues to drag him to the door.

"What?" He asks, adrenaline pumping at Azazel's yanking.

"We're leaving," he starts and turns to look at Charles. Charles stares in his eyes, he means it, and his heart feels ten times lighter.

"Why now?" He replies, cautiously.

"I've never supported Stryker's experiments," he starts and walks swiftly down the hall, checking left and right, "but, hearing you, last night." He shakes his head, lips thinning. Charles flinches, drawing back in to his shell.

Azazel doesnt say anything else and they make it to a door before Azazel whispers a encouragement and he's yanking the helmet off, and shoving him inside, without him. Charles stands stock-still, as everything floods him and he gasp, doubling-over. His mind stretches but everything is stabbing him, the thoughts of the soldiers, of Azazel's anxiety behind the door, he can't breathe.

His mind flares up, red-hot, at the brush of another mind in the room. He straighten, ignoring the splitting headache, and walks to the bed, only to stare at Stryker's sleeping form. His mind strikes out, uncoiling perfectly as if it's a snake, without Charles' permission, and for the lack of a better word, chomping on Stryker's mind, spewing a snake's venom.

Charles cries out, the overuse of his rusty powers deteriorating his body and consciousness as he filters in and out but he can't stop it, the onslaught of his wolf waking up and helping the snake in his mind, pushes back his human side, easily.

Charles doesn't have time to marvel at his wolf's regeneration, only, she's pushing Charles away, what makes him, him, and taking control of the other monster that he harbors, both of them hurting Stryker.

He's convulsing, spit leaking out of his mouth, eyes flying in the back of his head. Blood starts leaking, first of if his nose and then his ears and Charles is literally frying his brain. He stops, mouth opened in a silent scream before his light snuffs out. Charles feels it and he can't bring himself to feel all that sorry.

-

He fingers the brand on his hip, the raised puckered wound of it before sighing and wiping his face with the bathroom's napkins. He turns the sink on and splashes his face, eyeing himself in the mirror. He's thinner, sure, and scars litter his torso. He has a rather nasty scar under his eye, a clean swipe of a knife, the night that Azazel saved him, when Azazel heard him. His hair is short and cropped, Stryker never did like it long. He use to say it covered Charles' eyes, his best feature. He tries not to wince at the memory, of Stryker's fingers ghosting over his face before he's hurting Charles, sticking a knife in his face, laughing at the blood as it runs down his face.

His eyes are brighter now, though, and his lips can't stop curling in a smile. 

Stryker's gone.

It's so relieving that he giggles, wiping the dirt and grime off his face and body. It's not sanitary, by all means, this is a gas-station bathroom and his own personal bodyguard, Azazel, waits for him. Note the sarcasm. He throws on a change of clothes that Azazel's provided and he walks out, where Azazel is leaning against the wall, glasses perched on his nose, surveying the store.

"It's a gas-station," Charles reminds him.

"Stryker caught you in a library," Azazel says, unimpressed.

Charles lip thins, "I guess you're right."

Azazel throw his hands up, "you killed the leader of a pack, you are going to be hunted. Surely you know that,"

Charles huffs, "of course I do,"

Azazel eyes him but they walk back to the car together. Charles lets out a deep sigh, still reveling in his gift. He knows what Azazel thinking and it's not malicious or evil, it seems Charles finally has a ally.

"I need to go back," Charles says, voice firm.

"Like hell," Azazel grumbles and starts the car, peeling out of the lot.

"I'm serious," Charles stresses, "I have my little sister back in Winchester."

"Do you know how long you were gone for?" Azazel stresses.

Charles does, if only for the blaring loud tone of Azazel's thoughts. He sighs and tries to rub off an impending headache, "yes. Three years."

"Well, then theres that," Azazel says, voice bright.

"Do you atleast know what happened to her?" He can't help but ask.

"What's your sisters name?"

"Raven."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

Charles frown and looks out the window, deep in thought. His worry for her is projecting, evidence by Azazel loud sigh of annoyance.

"I know Shaw was raising hell when you went missing, even specifically targeting Erik." 

Charles winced and tried to keep a straight face at the mention of that name. He hasn't thought about him since the first few months with Stryker's, always shoving his in a spot where he knows he shouldn't reach. Charles gestures for Azazel to keep talking.

"Erik didn't know anything. He did try to get Emma to find you but was unsuccessful, due to the helmet," he says and strokes his chin, "It was the only way to appease Shaw, he was on a rampage. But, after the first year, Shaw stopped. Started building up his pack again, strengthening them. His second in command, Mystique, her name was, helped."

Charles frowned. He couldn't remember a girl named Mystique and deduced to her being new.

"But, Mystique eventually grew disillusioned with Shaw's way of commanding and defected to the Brotherhood,"

"The who?" Charles asked, confused.

Azazel laugh was loud and bright, "I forgot you weren't here for three years."

"Just tell me," Charles said, annoyed.

"It's a organization run by Erik, or Magneto as they call him, who's main mission is to chase off the remaining royal family's and then establish a secure nation for Lycan's."

Charles blanches, mind whirling, a list of what if's and a mantra of RavenRavenRaven that had even Azazel pulling over, and tending to Charles with nudges and water.

After he's calmed down, Azazel starts calmly, "you're sister was the princess?"

Charles flinches, "um."

"Jesus, Charles," he sighs before looking up to the sky, as if asking God why Charles.

Charles frowns at that, rude.

"Get in," Azazel says, tiredly, "seems like we have a sister to kidnap."

-

December 2, 2019

Charles shivers, pulling his coat tighter around his body. Granted, he shouldn't be out in a snow storm, but he was going stir crazy. Azazel was adamant on him staying in the hotel which was fine but not for five executive days in a row. They've been back in London now for a month and he hasn't come in contact with neither Alpha packs. Not Erik's or Shaw's. Not even Ororo's, sorry Storm's, pack, but Charles rarely seen her assert her force on the streets, anyway. Azazel's still following Raven's trail, since she left Shaw's pack and eerily has disappeared off the face of the earth. He's got in a lot of arguments with Azazel about him just finding her via telepathic connection but Azazel decided to think rationally, so she wouldn't be scared shit-less and shocked of his reappearance and also signaling his arrival to other telepaths, a.k.a Emma Frost, the bane of Charles' existence. He grudgingly accepted but he didn't know Azazel would take this bloody long, isn't he a goddamn teleporter?

He was on his way to get some dinner and try to cook, he's pretty sure he's gained the weight back from his kidnapping and then some, takeout does not agree with his figure., when a flare of familiarity catches his attention, his eyes already latching on to a figure across the street. Raven's signature blares at him, muted by another telepath's connection and he frowns at Emma's signature written over it. Why is Emma's signature over Raven's? Not matter, his smile widening, joy radiating and almost running to get to her but then he stops short.

Oh, he thinks, heart pounding. He watches another figure join her, pulling her into his side. Another familiar signature, blares. Two of them. 

Oh, he licks his lips. Watches as Raven stands up to kiss him on the lips, how he smiles down at her, mouth curved in a smirk. He sees a flash of a ring on her hand. Her figure well fed and happy, he blinks at the emotions that screams at him. His own wolf recedes at the scene, licking her wounds.

That's why, he thinks, helpless, as he watches the two figures head into a awaiting vehicle. 

-

"You knew!" he screams as he walk in the hotel room, juggling the groceries and fumbling with the door. He all but throws the groceries on the couch and when he finally manages to close the door, he whirls around and glares at Azazel, chest heaving.

Azazel is eating a bowl of cereal, and that annoys Charles too. What also annoys Charles is Azazel's picture of him, right at this moment. He sees himself, nose red and shivering, coat haphazardly thrown on and and askew, shivering. Chest heaving and eyes bright, glittering with tears.

Charles blink and feels a light sensation run down his cheek. He's crying.

Azazel gets up slowly and Charles shakes his head, takes a step back and leans against the door. Azazel stops.

"How long?" he croaks.

"I didn't know Mystique was your Raven until you accidentally projected a picture of her and I realized how she looked," Azazel starts, voice sympathetic, Charles almost whimpers at it, "when I finally pieced it together and went to go talk to Mystique, I found out about her and Erik."

Charles sucks in a deep breath at his name and wipes at his face, mad at himself for crying. He's been through worse. 

"I didn't think it would be wise, at least not yet, for you to face her and Erik," Azazel voices.

Charles lip trembles but Azazel's right, he's in no shape to greet his sister's fiance, to welcome him to the family, to smile at it, feel happy at the union. To think she'll be his wife, is something Charles can't breathe around. 

"At least she's happy," he says, voice tired.

Azazel nods, cautious.

"It's not just Erik," he starts, "Raven is happy. She doesn't need me anymore, I don't think she has in a long time, maybe even before Stryker took me. I'm losing her and I'm losing Erik but I have no right because he was never mine so why do I feel like this," he says, and throws his head back to prevent more tears.

"He's your Alpha," Azazel says, "that's why."

Charles laughs, a small pathetic sound, "It's not good enough."

"Maybe," Azazel concedes, "pairs like you two don't come around often. But, for the sake of your sister," he continues but Charles interrupts.

"It'll be strictly friendly, I'll learn to deal with it and we'll become friends and it'll be okay," Charles says.

Azazel doesn't say anymore and neither does Charles.

-

December 10, 2019

"You can do this," Azazel voices, lightly patting Charles on the shoulder.

Charles winces but nods his assent, assessing himself in the mirror. He's on the way to meet with Raven, who doesn't know it's him - she only knows it's urgent business and he knows Erik will be there and he tries to breathe. His hair is long and falling on his forehead, covering the electro-shock scars that mar his temples and forehead. The knife scar under his left eye still stares back at Charles when he looks in the mirror but it's not as dark, just puckered and big enough to draw attention. Azazel says it made him look hot instead of adorable so Charles took it, even though he knows it was to ease Azazel's own guilt. He's not dressed up anymore, too tired, abandoning his Omega ideals, he hasn't felt like a Omega in a long time, just a fallen soldier with scars that bear horrific stories. He's still in his twenties, so he does wear tight jeans and a button down but makes sure to throw on his cardigan, for familiarity. His feet are encompassed in old ratty vans and he can't be assed to change, not for Raven, she would accept him in a trash-bag.

"How are we going to tell them about Stryker's pack?" Charles asks.

"Depending on how it goes, I'll let you know," Azazel says, monotone.

Charles lets out an annoyed huff but follows him out the door. He snags his coat and they walk to the parking garage together in contemplative silence. They get in Azazel's really nice car and he speeds out, taking a series of twists and turns.

"Why can't we just teleport there?" Charles asks, feeling nauseous.

Azazel shrugs and continues driving like a maniac. Charles hopes he throws up in the sleek interior, if only to get Azazel to stop driving like this.

When they arrive, they're outside of a very expensive hotel. Charles raises an eyebrow at Azazel but says nothing, only, "I think you've reached your daily quota of driving."

"You wish," Azazel wishes dryly. 

Charles follows behind, "you only get two daily drives. This was your second."

"Three," he replies stubbornly.

Charles steers everyone's mind away from them as they bicker in the lobby, "I dare you. It'll be more than enough money for me to go back to school."

"Are you piggy-backing off the backs of the middle class? How Oxford of you."

Charles opens to retort but a secretary recognizes Azazel and directs them to a elevator on the twenty-second floor. On the ride there, Charles is stews but refrains because the women is still there. When she tells them to wait in the hotel room and that Magneto and Mystique will be there shortly before leaving is when Charles pounces.

"Just because I have this flair of like debonair, doesn't mean everything I say you can relate back to my Oxford studies," Charles fumes.

"Debonair?" Azazel laughs, "never a dull moment with you. Find let's get even more specific, Columbia."

"Columbia?" Charles roars.

"Making profit off the middle class is awfully American," he muses.

Charles sputters, "I'm British!"

"Excuse me," A voice pipes up. Raven's voice.

Charles is momentarily taken back, he didn't sense them, he really does get riled up when talking politics, he should start refraining. "Do continue," Another awfully familiar voice pipes back up and Charles whips around to be face to face with Erik. He stamps down his surprise and smooths it into his signature smile. He sees the exact moment Erik realizes it's him, he could shout it out, for how much is face betrays him. His mouth parts and his eyes widen, the maddening colors flashing through a range of emotions, ones that Charles would love to pick apart but it's not his place, anymore, or never actually was. He looks good, Charles muses, detached, his hair is blonder now, mostly due to the sun, light scruff, jaw still impossibly sharp, eyes still impossibly intense. The only difference is the glittering band on his hand.

Charles is cut off from his musing when a head of hair throws itself on them and he squeezes Raven back, nearly shuddering with relief. She's not crying but her voice is thick with emotion as she mutters a list of litanies that no one pays attention to. When she's done sniffing him and sobbing in his shirt, she pulls back and looks at him. 

"Hello darling," he smiles and laughs softly when her eyes fill up with tears.

"I missed that," she says.

"I missed saying it," he says, gently caressing her face. She's older now, a woman, blonde hair and with her yellow mutation eyes. It's beautiful and Charles can see how Erik fell in love. Hell, he fell in love, when he first took her under his wing. She's taller than him, filled out and strong. She smells like Erik, something that squeezes Charles deep inside, but he smothers it, he's happy for her, he's happy for Erik. 

"What happened to you?" She asks, reverently. She lightly caresses around his face but her eyes always stray back to his scar. He feels Erik's gaze on them two, can feel Erik's curiosity at the scar, also. He supposes they'll find out sooner or later. She lightly scratches through his strands of hair and he purrs in pleasure, he always did love that. He can feel her happiness and his intertwining.

"Let's sit down," Charles licks his lips. She agrees but follows Erik to sit next to him. They're a picture, that's for sure. Erik's frame stretches out and she curls in his side, like she's meant to be there.

Charles quickly ducks his head, tries to fix his expression. He feels Azazel behind him, lightly gripping his shoulder. He gives in and leans back into it, searching for Azazel's familiarity.

Raven and Erik are watching him. Raven's expression is eager but Erik's is withdrawned, turned off. Charles hadn't expected anything less.

He doesn't know what to start with but the first thing that comes to mind, "you two are engaged."

Raven's expressions brightens, if that's possible. Erik doesn't react, just watches Charles. He can feel it, like tiny pricks along his entire body, intense and heavy.

"Another six months for the marriage," Raven says.

Charles doesn't visibly react, only offering another smile, "congrats, darling. You deserved it."

Raven's expression clouds for a short second like she's remembering something, "If I recalled," she says coolly, "you did."

Charles feels like he's been punched, "what?"

"Come on," she stresses, "all those years and you never had anybody?"

Charles rears back, heart stuttering, "you think I left?"

Her gaze hardens, "Charles. You always did treat me like a child. I know you did, we talked about you deserving better at the Alpha's ball, all those years ago, and then a week later, you were just," her breath hitches, "gone."

Erik calms her down with a hand to her neck. Charles whole countenance shutters, slamming closed. Azazel grips tightens.

"You think," he starts calmly, "I left you?"

"Yes."

"To do what, may I ask?" His voice borders on dangerous. The air shifts, Erik leans up. Azazel digs his nails.

"You knew you deserved better, you left, so you weren't tied down. We all knew what Shaw did to you, anyway," she smiles, mean. Charles gaze zeroes on hers, lips thinning.

She continues, "no hard feelings. You didn't want to deal with me, I get it."

Charles can tell theres hard feelings though, can taste it in the air. A low growl works its way past his lips. Erik's head snaps to his, growling, a clear order to stand down. Charles stares at him, disgusted. Did he think Charles left Raven too? For what? For pleasure? Carnal desires?

How dare they.

Charles whole body shifts, can feel every bruise and broken bone from Shaw and Stryker combined, like faint echoes. How dare they.

Azazel shouts at him in his mind, Charles, stop this.

She thinks I left her, Azazel. She actually thinks that.

I know, Azazel says patiently, tell her why she's wrong.

I don't owe her anything, he snarls, not anymore.

Azazel retreats. Charles still, breathing hard. Raven watches him, eyes hard. Erik's protective side is on alert, half covering her body with his. Like Charles will hurt her. Did she tell Erik that he might?

Charles laughs, disbelieving. 

"Well?" She taunts, "are you even going to try to deny it?"

"Raven," Erik starts, warning. 

Charles waves him off, tired of beating around the bush, wanting to leave, disgusted. "I didn't leave you," he says.

"You were always selfish," she says, "I never knew the extent though."

Charles jerks up, snarling at her. Erik jumps up too, eyes flaring. Charles stares at him, chest heaving as Erik stares back. His Alpha, protecting someone who's not him, the pain is so sharp and sudden, Charles almost whimpers at it.

Charles can vaguely sense Azazel impatience as Azazel gets up and walks around, toward the couple until Erik shoves him back, growling.

Charles snaps at Erik, canines growing, "don't touch him!"

Erik's already there, shifting in and out, "why? Is he your boyfriend?" He spits out the last word.

"Why? Would it matter if he was?" 

"Always the slut," Erik snarls. Charles stops, canines shrinking. He returns back to himself and tries to blink back the tears that threaten to overcome him, at both of them, hating him. For what. He feels small all of a sudden, like the world's least favorite. He can feel Azazel's anger rising at the comment and it almost topples over but Charles sends him a wave of calm, trying to placate him. He wants to leave and never come back. 

"Okay," he says, voice betraying him, breaking. "Well," he sends them a small brittle smile, "we'll be going then. I'm sorry for causing unnecessary stress, I won't do it again."

He motions Azazel to follow and he walks to the door, detached. He knows Azazel's reaction before he says it and he says a sharp, "no."

Azazel curls his lips at him and Charles hold the door for him to leave when Azazel's snapping, "he was tortured for three years."

The room stills, the only sound is Charles deep intake and then another sharp, "I said, no, Azazel, damnit."

Charles smiles at them, small, and says, "sorry about that."

He shoves Azazel out the room and they walk out the lobby together, feeling sick.

-

"What do you want to do now?" Azazel asks, voice gruff. 

Charles stares out the window, voice cold, "It's time to go." The offending hotel stands tall and proud, mocking him.

Azazel doesn't question him and drives out of the parking lot.

-

December 15, 2019

"Careful!" Charles squeaks, peaking through his fringe to watch Azazel manhandle his books. Azazel fixes him with a droll stare and on purpose, drops them in their designated boxes. Charles fixes him with a glare.

"Those cost more than your life," he hisses.

Azazel ignores him, whistling.

Charles sticks his tongue out and goes back to packing the last of his things, reminiscing softly of the memories he had in the span of a month. He straightens when he's done and smiles at Azazel.

"It's finished," he smiles.

"Good," Azazel's voice is gruff.

Charles lightly brushes his mind and sighs before throwing himself on Azazel, latching on. "I'm going to miss you," he says in Azazel's chest.

"I should be going with you," Azazel growls but he lightly pats Charles' who's decided to hang on. 

"We've been through this," Charles pulls away, eyes soft, "you know I can protect myself. The pack members will be on their way and I will be ready. It's not fair to me or to you. Go live life Azazel, have fun."

He emphasizes the last word with a kiss to Azazel's cheek. Azazel sighs, yanking him in another hug. Charles goes willingly.

"Be careful," Azazel voices.

"Always," Charles sighs, "It's not like you're going far. You'll probably be over every weekend."

"Very true," Azazel drawls.

"Well, what are we waiting for," Charles laughs in excitement, "let's go see my new pad!"

-

March 23, 2020

The bell jingles on the door as Charles plows through it, the smell of coffee assaulting his senses. He smiles warmly at the barista, reciting his regular order. He sits down on the far table and with a dramatic sigh, yanks a pile of papers from his bag and throws them on the table. His face is probably doing a thing, when Hank sits down, cause he's laughing.

"How many?" Hank asks, lips quirking in a smile.

"Too many," Charles sighs and grimaces at the stack of papers. The papers stare back, the ink of his students glaring back at him, essays, at that.

"You poor soul," Hank snickers, before he's taking a long swallow of his coffee. Charles doesn't deign to reply, only uncapping his red pen, like he's going to war and diving in. He barely registers Hank as he does lab equations on his computer, or the barista who tries to talk to him but forgoing it and leaving his coffee on the table. He takes a sip every minute, he knows because Hank timed him one day, with a stop-watch and all.

When he's finished, he checks his time, not bad. Twenty minutes. He leans back in the chair with a sigh, his neck cramped. Hank looks up at that, his eyes widening.

"Part robot, you are," he says ominously.

Charles snorts, "okay. Yoda."

Hank smacks his lips, "I'd rather be Obi-wan,"

"Yeah but you look like Jabba the Hutt," Charles laughs.

Hank squawks, "stop harassing me and finish,"

Charles grins, self-satisfied, "I finished."

Hank sputters before digging through the stack, his eyes impossibly wide, "I don't know why I get surprised, every single time."

Charles cocks a eyebrow but doesn't reply when a flare of familiarity lights up his senses, he turns around to the door as the offending person walks in. He smiles as Azazel spots him.

"Charles," Azazel smiles.

"My friend," Charles grins, delighted, "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Likewise," he murmurs. Charles gets up and they hug. He hasn't seen Azazel since the parting, he was wondering when he'd show up.

"Oh," Charles forgets and then he's turning to introduce Hank and Azazel, "This is Hank."

Hank's staring at Azazel's form, the red skin, the swishing tail before he's grinning, pleased at another obvious mutation like his, "Nice to meet you."

Azazel stares back, coolly, save a twitch of his lip, "And I, you."

Charles hasn't felt this happy since before Stryker, he can get use to it. His two friends, one from his old and one from his new, intertwined. It serves to humble him, when he gets caught up in human things, like being a college professor, like grading papers. He forgets about his wolf side, since she's taken to shelling her self up and no matter what he does, he can never coax her out.

Hank looks at his watch and then jumps up, hastily putting his laptop away and slinging it over his shoulder. "Sorry, I have a lab meeting," He murmurs before he's walking out, door jingling.

Azazel watches him go and Charles grin turns wicked, "Hank, huh?"

Azazel snaps back to him and scowls, "the best method to getting you to stop talking is if I stop talking. Which I will do," he adds.

Charles grins, even bigger, "oh, how I've missed you."

-

"I know you didn't come here to catch up," Charles starts, a drink in his hand, and his eyes latched on to the pretty bartender, "I felt your mind."

Azazel nods, "It's time to catch you up."

"Very well," Charles says, stretching languidly. Azazel watches him, the difference the few months have made for him. After Raven and Erik, after Stryker, after Shaw - Charles is a sight to see. He's confident and suave, heated smiles and bright eyes. He's a man who's witnessed the world fall apart around him and still built it back together with his two hands. He dresses better too, Azazel notes, tight jeans and boots, the type you'd see on model ads. His hair is still floppy but messier and he's graceful, in everything he does. Hes happy, Azazel notes, as happy as he can be, without a pack or an Alpha, but he is, he's made the best of it. Azazel still sees the moments where his eyes dim as he catches something that reminds him of his past life, of Raven, or Erik, but he's back to his self only a beat later, he won't let it get the best of him and it hasn't. Azazel admires him, respects him, and that's why he stood by Charles side, not for some misplaced guilt, but for who he knew Charles would become - and here he is, the final product, and its mesmerizing.

"How long are you going to stare for," Charles turns from the bartender to meet Azazel's eyes, lips curled in a smirk. Azazel starts at that, he was doing covertly, it seems this new Charles will surprise even him.

Azazel fixes him with droll stare, his patented expression when dealing with Charles. 

Charles winks and signals the bartender to bring two more drinks. 

"Has any pack members been giving you a problem?" Azazel starts, lightly.

Charles snorts, "Have they. It's insane, how many times they'll come after me. Even in public places, you'd think Stryker would have taught them differently."

"You took care of it, I assume?"

"Of course," Charles tuts, "It wouldn't do me any good for the school to find out just who is at their school,"

Azazel startles, "so you've heard the rumors."

Charles fixes him with a wicked smile, Azazel forgets to breathe. "Of me?" He purrs, "yes, darling." 

Azazel stares at him, wide-eyed, "and you don't care?"

Charles eyes turn sharp, "I haven't cared for a long time now. You know I don't care for violence but when the situation calls for it, I will deliver." He assesses Azazel, lips curled, "I've heard a lot of things about me these days. The omega level telepath who pack members are afraid to cross," he mocks.

Azazel frowns, "what did you do?"

"Nothing that I should be ashamed of," Charles voice sharpens, "they come after me. I don't seek them out, I don't want to hurt."

Azazel throat feels dry so he clears it before continuing, "You're all the rage, these days. Everyone is talking about you. About a omega with enough telepathic powers to bend the whole damn city to his will. I hear you've almost wiped Stryker's pack clean."

"Pity," Charles murmurs before knocking back his drink.

"You do know that half of them were in Stryker's pack against their will," Azazel hedges.

Charles eyes glitter, sharp and poised, Azazel feels like he doesn't know this person. 

"No-one told them to come after me, Azazel," he snarls, "they did it on their own. They should be thanking me for getting rid of an Alpha as awful as Stryker."

"Charles," Azazel starts, startled.

"No," Charles voice chills, "stop trying to make me feel bad. You and I both know what we were getting ourselves in to when we split."

Azazel nods at that, throat dry. He throws back his drink before wiping the back of his lips. 

"How's Raven?" Charles asks.

"Raven?" Azazel startles.

Charles rolls his eyes and his mouth curves in a rueful smile, "you can take the boy out of the brother but you can't take the brother out of the boy."

"Last I heard, the Brotherhood is running almost all of London," Azazel ponders, deep in thought, "besides areas like these, the human parts."

"But," Azazel continues, "I've heard Magneto is trying to rid that. To remove all the human parts from London until it's just Lycan territory."

"How utterly selfish," Charles murmurs, eyes glittering.

"Raven, is good, I believe," Azazel starts and then his eyes light up, "Emma Frost left the pack."

Charles eyes widen and he grins, delighted, "how like her."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, now that Erik's married to Raven, his focus isn't all on her, which she loved," his voice turned mocking, "makes sense. She was a lovely creature."

"She's now right-hand to Shaw," Azazel says.

Charles laughs, throws his head back, neck gleaming, Azazel shifts his eyes, feels like he shouldn't watch, can't shake the feeling as to why, "how is my Shaw?"

"Gaining power on Erik, everyday, especially with Emma feeding him information," 

Charles shakes his head, lips curled in a semblance of a smirk, "he won't win any territory if all he wants to do is get in to pissing contests with Erik."

"Rumor has it," Azazel starts, "that Erik is the protege of Shaw. That's why Shaw's so adamant to one up him."

Charles jerks, mouth open. He feels like the farther he is from Erik is when he actually gets to know him. Once upon a time, he'd turn bitter at that, questioning the Gods as to why. Now, Charles laughs with them, the Fates are conniving little things, aren't they.

"Everything makes sense now," he laughs, disbelieving. Can't believe he didn't gleam that from their minds, but he was innocent and had morals at one point.

Azazel nods, gives him a smile before he's picking up his coat and leaving. Charles watches him go, sighs and cracks his neck before he's smiling prettily at the bartender. She blushes and stutters and he charms his way in her panties.

-

When he wakes up, she's sprawled over him, naked body against his own. He gets up, makes sure not to wake her, before he's walking to his kitchen to make coffee. He senses the intruder before he's even fully awake so he doesn't try for modesty. He hums a tune and puts his coffee pot before he's whipping around and giving his the intruder his best smile.

"Mystique," he drawls.

She sits on his futon, legs curled. She's fully naked, with her blue skin and auburn hair. Her eyes watch him, assessing and intense. 

When she doesn't reply, he shrugs, turns his bare ass to her and walks around his kitchen, grabbing his creamer and sugar. He reaches up for three mugs because the bartender has just awoken and is bound to come out in any second.

"Still no cream, two sugars," he asks, gets no reply.

No matter, he thinks, and goes about to fixing her cup. The bartender comes out, looks at Raven then Charles and pales and says, "please don't tell me you cheated on her with me."

Charles snorts, mouth quirking into a smile at her nature, "no, love. I'm going to fix you a to-go mug." 

The girl nods absentmindedly, still confused. She's shimmying in to her clothes and looking at Raven through the corner of her eye. When Charles finishes, he goes to her with her mug, and kisses her.

She makes a noise but melts and when he pulls back, she's flushes. He eyes her, pleased, and she blushes prettily before leaving.

He walks back in to his room and throws on a pair of boxers and then he's walking back out, grabbing the two mugs and handing Raven hers. She takes it but doesn't drink it, just setting it down, and they both watch the smoke from it waft in the air between them.

Charles takes a satisfying sip and lounges back in the couch, waiting on her to finish her inner-argument with herself. When she finishes, she snaps back to attention and eyes him, "you look good."

Charles almost rolls his eyes but refrains, "let's skip this," he waves his hand between them, "what do you really want?"

Raven's eyes flash but she keeps her comments to herself, not that she really does, by the way she's broadcasting them, Charles tries to hide a smile. "I need your help," she forces the words between her teeth.

This, gets Charles attention, he leans up, and takes another sip, loves watching her squirm, it's more than she deserves. "Oh?" he says, pleasantly.

She nods then he sees her shoulders straighten, "I'm sorry for snapping at you, when you came by. I didn't know what happened and I still don't, not unless you tell me," her tone turns hopeful.

Charles shakes his head, "I'm pass that. You took care of yourself and Erik did and I'm grateful. It doesn't matter."

"It does," she confesses and her lips thin, "I can't help thinking of the other mutant's comment, was it true?"

"Azazel?" Charles says, "no. It wasn't."

"You weren't tortured then?"

"No," Charles mouth forms the lie.

She nods and relaxes, "thank god."

Charles lip curls in a sneer despite himself but he keeps it well hidden. He plows on, "what's the situation?"

"I don't know if you know, but I joined the Brotherhood," Raven starts but stops when Charles waves at her.

"I know all this, I have informants," Charles says.

Raven startles at that before her eyes dim, "so. It's true. You're the omega-level telepath,"

Charles graced her with a sharp smile, "did you really think it was someone else?"

"Why?"

"Protection."

"From what?"

"That's none of your business," he says, sharp. Her nostrils flare at that but she doesn't say anything else about it.

"No matter. I need that kind of power to help us."

"Us?" 

"The Brotherhood."

"Last thing I heard, you guys were doing fine on your own." 

"Well," Raven grimaces, "that's true. But, then, you've probably also heard about Emma defecting."

"I wonder why," he says because he can.

Her eyes flare and she bares her teeth, he watches in amusement, she's a beta, she doesn't scare Charles. Only Alpha's hold real command over Omega's.

"Charles," she warns.

He waves her off, taking another sip, hiding his smirk over his mug, "It's a joke, darling. Surely, you joke over there."

She visibly tries to calm herself, "as I was saying. She defected, to Shaw. It's been a game for Shaw and Erik, I defected to Erik but then Emma defected to Shaw. No-one seems to  find the upper-hand." 

"Hm," Is all he says, more interested in a couples spat that's happening next door, the spike of emotions.

"Charles," she growls, scandalized. He rolls his eyes.

"You can't honestly think I will cater to your every whim after the argument, all those months ago. And now, breaking in my house, not invited and unannounced," he says.

Her anger dims, "fine. You're right. But, this is more about a sister and brother fight, Charles."

"This isn't my fight," he says, sharp.

"I need your help," she emphasizes, "you're the weapon, you can turn the tide. Can't you see? The Brotherhood in allegiance with Professor X? It's just the thing we need."

Before he can stop he's asking, "that's my name? Professor X?"

"Charles," she starts, sharp.

He's laughing before he can stop, "I'm sorry, it just sounds like a cheap porn name. Fits me perfectly."

She watches, trying to stamp down her amusement but is unsuccessful when her lip twitches. He counts down from five and then stops, "sorry. Do continue."

"We need someone to combat Emma, Shaw knows where our resources our, the next raids, because of Emma. She read's it out of our soldiers," her voice turns menacing. Charles wonders what happened to the Emma that watched Raven appreciatively, watching the sway of her hips, that night on the Alpha's ball. 

"Besides, what do you have here?" she asks.

Charles attention snaps to her, eyes intense, "I have a life, Raven. I have a job and wonderful friends and I will not march in to a war that I do not care about."

Her voice is heavy with disgust and she spits the next words at Charles, "you try so hard to fit in with them, Charles. Humans. Can humans fulfill your needs? The wolf that's running in your veins? The itch of your telepathic abilities?"

"No matter," Charles starts, calm, "atleast I'm not running around like rabid dogs slaughtering my way around London."

Raven's up in a flash, "how dare you!"

"No," Charles starts, voice low, "how dare you. Coming in to my house, insulting me and then expecting me to agree to your silly negotiation. Get out."

She doesn't move so Charles does it for her. He reaches in and her yanks her motor functions to his command, she stares wide-eyed as he commands her to do his will. He shoves her out and then let's go of her, chest heaving at her audacity.

-

June, 5 2020

"Class dismissed!" he announces and watches as his students get up from his hour long lecture, brain fried from the information overload. He smiles to himself and starts packing himself, shuffling papers and stuffing some in his bag. His brain pings and he turns in time to see one of his students, Jean Grey, a really powerful telekinetic. She'll be more powerful than Charles someday, the phoenix in her cautious around Charles. 

"Can I talk to you?" she asks, shy.

Charles smiles at her, sees her inner-demon restless, "let's do it in my office."

They walk together and he listens, patiently, as she lists the symptoms of her impending change. Charles interjects a little, here and there, but knows this is something she has to let out on her own. For her to own it.

He unlocks his office door and allows her in, only she stops talking and a familiar brain sparkles. Charles looks at the long-lean body of Magneto, sitting idly on Charles' desk chair, twirling a pen between his hands. Charles notes and plans are laid bare on top of his office, taken from his shelf.

"Professor," Jean asks, can sense the tension in the room.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jean," he says, eyes still on the figure, who hasn't looked up since their arrival, too engrossed in Charles' notes.

Jean nods her assent and quickly leans up to kiss his cheek before striding out, shutting the door. Charles walks further in the room, pausing for a second, before he's relaxing. He sits down on the chair opposite of his desk, since someone is occupying his, and stretches languidly. His neck aches and he unbuttons the top part, pulling the tie off before he's shedding his suit overcoat and unbuttoning his sleeves. He throws it on the chair next to him and watches Erik, who's taken up to watching him back.

"Hello, Magneto," he smiles, rueful.

"Charles," Erik drawls. Charles wonders how long he would have waited to hear that. 

"Not that I'm not loving the company," Charles says and licks his lips, "but, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Erik says nothing for a long moment and slowly gets up. His long body graceful in ways Charles can't even fathom. He looks the same but his eyes look tired, worn. A tell-tale sign of wrinkles around the corner of his eyes. Charles won't admit he finds it hot. He, too, is wearing a suit, grey in attire and form-fitting in a way that has Charles' gaze running down, appreciatively, wondering if in a different life, he would have been able to touch. He can feel his wolf scratching at him, can feel her happiness at Erik's close proximity.

"You haven't changed," Erik states.

"On the contrary, my love, theres alot of things about me that has changed," Charles says, calm and poised.

"Who was she?" Erik gestures to the door.

"A student," Charles says, watches Erik.

Erik nods, "taken up to sleeping with them?"

Once upon a time, that would've effected him. "It's cute that you think so," Charles says, flashes a grin.

"You've never proven me wrong," Erik hums and smoothing his hand over Charles binder of notes. Charles watches the long fingers, skilled in things he would have loved to find out about.

"I don't owe you anything," Charles reminds him.

"Just seems like the more socially acceptable thing to do," Erik says.

"When have I ever been socially acceptable?"

"Never," Erik flashes him a sharp smile that shoots a sharp heat wave that licks its way up Charles spine. 

Charles gives him another smile, accompanied with a low purr. He never did play by the rules but neither did Erik, if he recalled.

Erik watches him for a long moment, eyes sharp and assessing. "You play?" he nods toward the chess kit sprawled in the corner of the coffee table.

"Since I was a child," Charles looks at it, reminiscing the times he tried to make Raven learn. Charles cant believe Erik is here, in his office, in human territory, asking him idle questions - that they're not at each others throats. He knows Erik's here for something and he has a feeling he knows what.

"Why are you here, Erik?"

"I heard Raven came by," Erik starts, leans back in the chair. His throat gleams in the low-light. 

"She did," Charles nods.

"Another argument?" Erik prompts.

"Ask her."

Erik's lips curl, "I'm asking you."

"This is me, not answering," Charles says and breathes the Alpha pheromones that Erik's giving off.

Erik's nostrils flare, "Charles."

"Erik," Charles mocks.

Erik's eyes flash and before Charles can blink, he's pinned to the desk. Erik's hovering over him, hand to his throat, "you never did know how answer to authority," Erik muses, his thumb mapping the column of Charles throat.

Charles struggles to breathe under Erik, the close proximity of Erik, the scent. "Get off of me," Charles bucks up. Erik stops him with a low growl, nails coming out, piercing Charles throat.

Charles winces, and moves to shove Erik. "Erik, off," he says.

"Charles, no," Erik mocks.

"Get the fuck off of me," Charles shrieks, using his powers to move Erik off. Erik stands still, eyes flashing, but they widen in surprise. 

Charles doubles-over, chest heaving, flashes of Stryker and Shaw blending together, ending with him pinned under them. He shoves a hand out when Erik goes to help him, "you've done enough."

Erik stops but looks on as Charles put himself back together, smoothing his shirt down.

"What do you want?" Charles asks, voice cold.

"I know Mystique's told you about our predicament," Erik says, going into soldier mode, "we need your help."

"And you think you could persuade me, if not her?" his voice is still impossibly cold.

"Yes," Erik says, truthfully.

Charles pauses and then looks at Erik, "If I say yes will you two leave me the fuck alone?"

"Yes," Erik says.

Charles remembers years ago, when he was in Erik's position, asking for help. He remembers Erik's sharp slap, the sting of metal on his cheek, of Erik's resounding no, the disgust his tone held, as Erik believed Charles to be in cahoots with Alex. He remembers Erik rejecting him, forcing Charles to fight in the rings to save Raven's and his ass and he should, god he should, reject Erik. It's all he's ever done to Charles.

Charles smiles, small and sad, "good."

-

Charles walks him out, quiet and withdrawn. Erik's a steady presence by his side, radiating warmth and protection. What Charles wouldn't give to lean in and curl himself in to Erik, to situate and stretch himself in Erik's closed-off mind, so Erik could see and breathe nothing but Charles. He's so tired, the past five years has left him morbid and mean, something he seen in Azazel's reflection of him, in the bar. Nobody expects that of him but it's so bloody unfair to continue trying to live up to people expectations of Charles Xavier when that Charles doesn't exist anymore.

That's one thing Charles can appreciate about his and Erik nonexistent relationship. Erik thinks the worst of him, atleast by what he's said to Charles (how he reacts), so he doesn't expect Charles to be charming and innocent and intellectual. He doesn't expect anything from Charles save basic interactions like an Omega's submissiveness and the wielding of his powers. That, that Charles can do. He doesn't have to play a part, he can finally be him. A omega. A telepath.

It's been a long time since Charles has submitted to anyone, not since Alex, not since Moira, and he doesn't think he has it in him to bare himself again. It's foolish for Erik to think so, that he'll comply with everything, especially when all he's ever done was shun Charles or reject him. Charles won't act like his Omega because he's fucking not, and that hurts. But it's okay, it'll ease as time goes on. Atleast, he hopes.

Charles startles as he realizes they've made it to the front of the school and Erik's car sits there, gleaming in the light. He stands by as Erik unlocks his car but answers Erik's question.

"My apartment is walking distance, thanks anyway," Charles says and turns to leave.

"Charles," Erik calls.

Charles turns and tries to tamper down his surprise as Erik holds his hand out, palm up. It's a sign of beckoning, from Alpha to Omega. Usually, only initiated between bonded pairs, already included in a pack.

Charles licks his lip, heart pounding but doesn't move, only watches Erik cautiously.

"Charles," Erik asks again, voice deceptively warm.

Charles whole body lights up and he yearns for it but he stamps down and snaps at his wolf. He won't submit to anybody, not anymore. Especially not Erik, who's marrying his sister. They could be an Alpha and Omega pair but not in the way Charles wants and he doesnt have it in him to be anything else, can't sit idly by as he watches them. He told Azazel he'd be friendly but not this.

Charles takes a step back and shakes his head. Erik's lips thin but he doesn't offer his hand again, shoving it in is suit pocket, unusually angry.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Erik asks.

Charles rears back, "what?"

"When you first came to me," Erik starts patiently, "all those years ago, you wanted me as your Alpha, I'm finally giving you what you wanted."

Charles laughs even though nothings funny, "you've always been selfish. Offering up what I've wanted when it's convenient for you."

"You don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Times change, Erik, I haven't wanted to be your Omega for a long time." 

Erik's lip curls like he knows Charles lying but he doesnt address it, says, "alright. I won't try again."

Then he's getting in his car, sleek and graceful and Charles can't let him leave without asking.

"Why now?"

Erik stops and meets Charles eyes, "It would have been easier on both of us," then he's driving off, leaving Charles to watch him and ponder over what he meant.

-

June 8, 2020

Approximately three days go by before Charles hears from the Brotherhood again, coincidentally coinciding with his heat. It amuses him to no end because his heat lasts sometimes two weeks, one if he has an Alpha on stand-by and the Brotherhood needs his help urgently but now they have to wait and it's funny.

Charles doesn't believe in karma or retribution but it is funny, especially when a Beta like Raven walks in to his apartment today only to crinkle her nose and tell him he's useless as a Omega to which he replies with a lazy jerk to his raging boner.

She hisses at him but leaves and no-one has tried to contact him since. He hopes not, he really isn't in the state of mind to fend off impending attacks from other Lycans. He hurriedly calls Hank who answers after the second ring.

"Charles?" Hanks asks, voice concerned.

"I'm going to need you're help," Charles breathes through his teeth, tries to gulp in air over the heat licking it's way down his body. His body is taut and strung just waiting for a an Alpha to let him fly over the edge.

"Anything," Hank says.

"Funny you'd say that," Charles starts off nonchalantly but throws it away when his vision blurs for a second, "I'm in heat."

Hank quiets and then swears softly, "but, what's the problem?"

Charles grits his teeth, "I can't tell you everything when I'm like this. I promise I will but I need you to do me a favor since you're a Beta."

"It stills effects me, Charles," Hank starts but Charles interrupts.

"I know, Hank, But it's muted and I'll tamper it down with my ability but I need to get out of my apartment." 

"Why can't you ask Azazel?" Hanks asks, cautious.

Charles swears at him, feels slick running down his thighs and grimaces at the feel, "godamnit it, Hank. He's too far, come here now."

He hangs up and throws his phone on the couch, feeling a case of vertigo that has him swaying. He blinks away the haze of lust that clouds his vision, and tries to focus. He runs around the house, throwing things he needs in a bag, and tries to ignore the chafing of his jeans on his boner.

He sits perfectly still, waits on Hank. After ten minutes, he hears Hank footsteps out of the door, he runs to open it and ignores Hank's flare of nostrils.

"Get the bag," Charles says, over his shoulder. He hightails out of his apartment, brushing an Alpha who's arrived from the elevator. Charles signals flare and he gasps, whipping around to the Alpha, who's staring back at him, caught of guard.

Erik stares at Charles, uncomprehending, eyebrows furrowed as to why Charles is flushed and in haste. When Charles winces as the denim rubs against him, he shifts on foot and he can tell when his scent hits Erik, who stills and his eyes turn liquid lava. Charles whimpers high in his throat and watches as Erik's nostrils flare, breathing Charles deeply in. Charles vision clouds, tinted red, as he watches Erik straighten and he's trembling for it, he notes distantly, horrified.

He's stopped by Hank, thank god Charles notes (much later, not at this particular moment, though). 

"No, Charles," Hank's voice slices through the haze and Charles blinks up at him, uncomprehending, all he smells is Erik, he can taste him in his throat. Hank grabs him by his arm but stops abruptly when Erik growls, low and menacing. Charles licks his lips at it, moving to rub himself against Erik but Hank keeps a hand on him.

"Let's go," Hank growls, throwing a glare at Erik before he's manhandling Charles in the elevator. Erik watches, body poised and Charles know's he's about to strike and his instincts blare, calm our Alpha down, and he unconsciously sends a wave of calm that has Erik blinking, body going slack.

Charles watches him until the elevator closes and he's cut off from the scent, the fog lifting from his mind, slightly.

"Thank you," he gulps in air greedily that's not tainted by Erik.

"Of course," Hank says but gulps at Charles' proximity. Charles startles and reaches in to stop Hank's body's reaction towards him.

Hank breathes in relief.

-

June 21, 2020

When Charles wakes up, two weeks later, he's sprawled on someones chest, their dick still firmly situated in his ass. He's relieved to find out his heat is no more, Logan had come in handy. Charles knew following him a couple of months ago to a bar would be worth it. Granted, he was in heat for two weeks instead of one because Logan is a Beta but that's okay because he fucks like an Alpha.

Not that Charles knows how an Alpha fucks, could never really bring himself to do it. Everyone knows when Omega's and Alpha's have sex, they become too enthralled in it, accidentally mating or in Charles case, skipping the mating all together and having the Fates decide who his Alpha is. His life, am I right? 

He eases Logan out of him, who's fallen asleep with a cigar in his mouth, Charles can't stop the peal of laughter that escapes him at that, and winces as he brushes against the sensitive skin. He lifts himself off on shaky arms, he always becomes so accustomed to being handled during sex he's practically weak after his heat, it's an Omega thing, and walks to the bathroom.

He wets a tower and slides it over his body, deciding he's clean enough and he doesn't have time to shower as evidence by the shrill ringing of his phone. He sighs and throws a apologetic smile to Logan's who's startled awake, senses on overdrive, and answers it.

He shoves his phone ear and searches around for his pants, shimmying his jeans on, he can't find his boxers, doesn't even think he brought any (god, he is such a slut, he realizes) and huffs out a greeting.

By the time he's shimmied into his tight jeans, he's breathing deeply and his body feels like it might give out. All in a two weeks work of fucking, he likes it, loves it really, too bad, he can't bask in it, stupid fucking Brotherhood, interrupting his heat of all things.

"Charles," Mystique voices, heavy in disgust, "you're on speaker phone and are you seriously having sex while you're on the phone?"

"What?" Charles puffs out a laugh, waves Logan away when he loops his thumb in Charles' jeans, "no. I was actually putting on clothes for the first time in two weeks. You should feel grateful."

"So grateful that you've decided to adhere to normal human behavior," she drones. Charles hears a small scuffle in the back and a man's sharp bark of not now, handle it Toad before she's back on, sighing in the line. "Are you finished? We could really use your help over here."

"Sounds like it," he says, walking further in one of his many safe houses and fingers the buttons on the coffee machines to start brewing him what he wants.

"When are you able to come?" 

"Uh," he starts before he's shouting at Logan to come down. Logan walks in his kitchen, naked and glistening and Charles can't help but pinch one of his nipples and Logan yelps before he's caging Charles in, lifting him on top of one of the counters. 

Charles laughs, delighted. But, he remembers he's on speakerphone and he is on the phone and he asks, "who is exactly listening to me?"

"Erik and I," Raven says, impatiently, "he's the leader and when we're dealing with you, we're almost positive we need him present."

"Aw," He purrs, "did you hear that, Logan, they're scared of me."

Logan snorts and moves away, lighting his cigar and walking out to the balcony. Now, that's a man of no words. 

Charles sets the phone down to make his mug, pressing the speaker button, and he's looking around for a mug that's not leaking or broken when he's startled with a low, "Charles."

He jumps, hand over his heart before he's snatching his phone up, purring, "Erik."

Charles can feel his amusement, "busy week?"

"Busy two weeks," Charles says absentmindedly, pouring his creamer in the coffee, watching the colors, "It got better when I heard your voice."

Erik laughs, throaty and low and Charles can almost see the flexing of his throat, the vibration of it. He aches.

"Like I said, still the same," Erik says.

"Good or bad?" Charles asks, stirring.

Erik hums but doesn't answer and Charles frowns, stupid Alpha I'll never get, he might as well have fun with Erik before he becomes shackled to his sister, forevermore.

"We need you here by five today," Ravens says, somewhere close to Erik. Charles can see it, Raven thrown over his shoulder as he's sitting down, nestling in his neck. Charles banishes the image. 

He looks at the clock, twelve. He tells Logan he needs a ride and all he gets is a grunt as a reply, which is the equivalent of a yes.

"Alright," he agrees.

"Good," Raven says and cuts off the call.

-

 Logan stays still three and they have lazy sex, just because he's not in heat anymore doesn't mean he's gonna stop, he has Logan on speed-dial for a reason. When it's done and he packs his stuff up, he texts Raven and tells her he's on her way.

They make it around four and it's the same factory he first met Erik in, a couple of years ago, the first of many rejections. Charles stare at it and knows there's no way he can go back if he enters, knows he's going to resign himself to heartache when he just got better again. He sighs and chews on his lip, ignoring Logan who's puffing on a new cigar until he's talking, "don't do it."

"What?" Charles jerks.

Logan fixes him with a stare, "I can smell you and your emotions, Charles. You know what awaits you if you walk in those doors."

Charles avoids his stare, "I know."

"Hey," Logan says, uncharacteristically soft, "fuck him. You're an amazing Omega, you will find another."

"You?" Charles says, half-kidding, half hoping.

Logan laughs, rueful all of a sudden, "I wish."

Charles smiles at him softly, leaning over to kiss away his hatred. He speaks against Logan's lips, can smell the smoke, "you think you're too broken for anyone, but if anything, everybody's broken but you."

Logan's eyes shine and pulls away, lips stretching in a grin, "you always make it hard to leave you."

"Good," Charles purrs, "people rarely do walk away from me."

Logan turns the car back on and Charles takes it as his cue to leave, leaving Logan with another smile before hopping out of the car. He shuffles his way to the front door, reserved, and barely lifts his fist to knock when it's swinging open, Raven greeting him.

"Took you long enough." 

Charles scowls and snaps, emotions running high accompanied with a picture of Logan leaving, another one that never stayed, "you're lucky I came."

Raven quiets and eyes him curiously trying to discern the place of his discomfort but he pushes past her. It's different from last time, with furniture and metals that gleams from every surface, the place is a bustle of activity, mutants pushing past him and inside, their thoughts broadcasting everything. He reads it all, the stiff soldiers, the weary eyes, they really do need his help.

He goes in to soldier mode, something he never quite got rid of, from Alex. "Where do you wanna talk about it?"

Raven motions for him to follow and he does, up the stairs and to the right, in to a big room with a round table. He folds into one of the chairs, eyeing the maps tacked to the wall, the red lines connecting human territories, he stores it away for later, he's not here for that.

"Well," Raven starts but doesn't sit down.

"I thought Erik had to be present," Charles says.

Raven's head snaps to his, "why are you so concerned about Erik?"

Charles shrugs, "I'd rather not say."

Raven growls and Charles eyes her in amusement, she snaps, "he's not yours, Charles. Don't start, not with my husband."

Charles bares his teeth, "I prefer my fucks to come to me and willing. Don't flatter yourself." 

They stare at each other, unblinking, until Charles senses Erik.

"What did I walk in?" Erik asks, weary.

Raven says nothing so Charles answers, "nothing to concern yourself with. Now, is someone going to tell me what's the matter?"

-

Months before

"No, Erik," Raven snaps.

Erik eyes flash and she takes a step back, "talk to me like that again."

"Sorry," she flushes, "It's just. I haven't talked to him since I accused him of leaving."

"We don't have time for your regrets, Mystique, we need him."

"We need him?" she snarls, "or you?"

Erik's claws retract and he has a hand on her throat before she blinks, "what did I just say?"

"Erik," she gasps and he lets her go and she drops to the floor. "Why do you want him so bad?"

"Are you not listening to me?" Erik roars, "this has nothing to do with your petty fights or jealousy! We're at war, Raven."

Raven quiets before agreeing, toneless, "I'll talk to him."

Erik shakes his head, "I will. Look at how well you managed last time."

-

June 21, 2020 

"So, you want me to control Emma Frost? Just in time for you two to make your move?" Charles says, twirling a pen in his hand.

"Yes," they both agree simultaneously.

"Okay," he shrugs. They both continue to stare so he quirks an eyebrow at them.

"What?"

"We'd thought you might object or have questions or something," Ravens says.

Charles shakes his head, smiling bemusedly at them, "I don't."

Raven eyes him curiously at that, "no moral objections?"

It's a thinly-veiled prod at his past, if Charles has ever seen one, but he doesn't take the bait.

"Maybe once, a long time ago," Charles coyly says.

"Now?" Erik speaks up.

"Now," Charles says, drags his eyes across Erik, latching on to his eyes, Erik could convince a whole army, with eyes like those, "I won't afford myself the luxury."

Erik hums and Charles can feel the question rising before Erik's actually saying it, comes with being connected to him (mind, body, and soul and all that rubbish).

"It's always been taken away, every single time," He says, blinking, at his honesty. That was not what he was going to say.

Raven opens her mouth to speak but Charles shrill ringing of his phone, stops her. Her face contorts to an expression of annoyance and he takes the call just to spite her. Erik's attention has deteriorated from Charles, leaving a bad taste in his mouth, like he isn't worthy of it. 

He presses answer with much more force them he should but answers pleasantly, "Hank."

"Charles," Hank's voice sounds relieved.

"Still worrying," Charles drawls, stretching down in to the chair.

"It's just," Hank squeaks and Charles can pictures him turning bright red, "It's Logan."

"What has Logan done to you," Charles asks, smiling wickedly when Hank stutters.

"Nothing, professor, god," He replies when he hears Charles snickering, "I don't know why I put up with you. Or why people call you charming, you're the biggest asshole I know."

"Hank," He responds scandalized and waves Raven over when she hesitates to give him sheets of paper. She sets it down and his eyes trail through them, memorizing.

"Anyway," Hank hisses, "I just wanted to make sure he didn't split your ass in two."

Charles jerks at that, laughing loudly before slapping a hand to his mouth, "Hank, I'm in a meeting."

"Serves you right," Hank sounds way too gleeful for Charles taste before he's hanging up. Charles stares at his phone before he's chuckling, pocketing it, and splaying his hands over the pieces of paper.

"These the plans?" He hums, trailing his eyes over the drawl of handwriting's around a blueprint of a mansion, a mansion he knows all too well.

"Why do we need blueprints? I've been in the mansion and so has Raven," Charles says, meaning for the question to be for Raven but ends up to Erik.

"He's built several compartments to the mansion, now, It'll be unrecognizable to you," Erik says.

Charles makes an assenting noise and points at the notes sprawled next to it, "yours?"

"Ja," Erik replies, mindlessly, before he's jerking, "sorry. Yes, I mean."

Charles mouth curves in to a real smile but he hides it well.

-

Charles stays till around eight, when the sun has settled, and the night creeps up. Hes been pouring over the plans with Erik and Raven.

"You'll be with Erik," Raven says, trying to wrestle how unhappy her tone seems from the two of them. Charles smirks inwardly, it boosts his ego that Raven thinks he actually has a chance with Erik. If he did, things would have gone way differently, and he wouldn't be here, he'd be where she was. Erik had the opportunity to have Charles and he didn't want him and Charles isn't entertaining the notion that he might still, he's marrying his sister, after all.

Charles doesn't say anything so Erik does, "I'll be able to get you inside and you can go from there."

"So while I'm holding Emma, what are you two going to be doing?"

"Shaw," Erik says.

"I'll be overseeing the rest of the mutants," Raven says.

"What are you trying to accomplish?" Charles asks Erik, who pauses.

"I want to kill Shaw," Erik says, voice steady and powerful.

Charles knows he can and will, can see it, but doesn't have the will nor morals to fight against it. He simply sighs before nodding, "I'm not killing, at all."

"I never asked you to," Erik replies, waving his hand.

"And after?"

Erik pauses, like he never really thought it out, "Shaw's mutants can either join us or leave the territory." 

"You won't kill them?" Charles asks because he's got to know.

"No," Erik snaps, "whatever ill-feeling you have towards me and the Brotherhood should not translate in to me wanting to murder innocent mutants!"

Charles jerks, surprised at the snap before he's snapping back, "as opposed to innocent humans!"

Erik's eyes flare bright, "humans are not innocent,"

"No," Charles concedes, "but, who are you to say who lives or dies. You're not even human, you're a Lycan!"

"And?" Erik roars.

"And," Charles says, perfectly calm, "If you decide to go after the human territories, you will have made a greater enemy than Shaw."

The air stills, like it can't believe Charles declaration. Charles can't even believe he declared it, didn't even know he still possessed traits from that Charles, long ago. His wolf howls, restless, in his head. It's blasphemous, even the air knows it, a Omega declaring war on it's Alpha. The Fate's have chosen Erik and Charles to be a predestined pair, and Charles can feel something poignant in the air, like the whole universe has stilled, disbelieving at what it's just witnessed. Charles can't believe he's said it but he's not going back, he's got to fight for something, even if the fighting is against his entire being, his other half, his soul.

Erik rears back, face slack in shock, at Charles. His eyes glint of the wolf behind them and Charles mind stops, stutters, before starting up again. Erik knows, he knows, about Charles, about everything. It's there, lurking beneath his eyes, the parting of his lips, the slackness of his face. He can't believe Charles would do such a thing because he know's about everything, about The Fates and them two, and Charles can't believe. He can't breathe. How long has he known?

He stands up, legs feeling like jelly and doesn't wait for a reply, doesn't even register his feet moving out the door until they hit the dirt and he's running.

-

June 22, 2020

"Nothing happened," Charles confirms.

"You sure?" Ravens voice sounds through the phone.

"Yes," he pauses, "I know I threatened him but I am quite serious about that, Raven."

"I know you are," something almost like affection bleeds through her tone, "you wouldn't be you, if you weren't."

"Thanks," he snorts and winces when the hot soup burns his bottom lip.

"Listen," she starts, "I don't know what happened to you, after that. Why you ran off but,"

Charles stops her, "nothing that you need to concern yourself with. I have a favor to ask."

"Yes?"

"I would like to have all the rest of our meetings and updates over the phone, preferably you and me," he asks, feeling the question hang in the air for a long moment before she's laughing.

"You fucking would," she sounds tired, "okay. I guess. I'll have to run it by with Erik."

"I have a feeling he wouldn't care," Charles says and takes another slurp of his soup.

"You don't know Erik as much as you like to think you would," her tone is dry before she's hanging up and Charles is pondering what she means before the soup is burning his tongue.

-

July 5, 2020

"I heard," Azazel starts, walking around and joining Charles at the bar, "some things."

"Oh," Charles replies, mouth occupied with drowning his liquor. 

"Some very interesting things," Azazel hums and signals the bartender who's throwing lingering looks at Charles, "christ, Charles, you slept with your bartender?"

"Yes," Charles replies, matter of fact, "look at her."

"Still," Azazel replies, "there is something that you don't do, there is rules about these sort of things."

"When have you ever known me to play by the rules?"

"Which brings me to why I'm here," Azazel frowns, "the telepathic Omega is taking up arms for the Brotherhood against Shaw and his telepath, my, my."

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," Charles waves him off.

Azazel fixes him with a droll stare, "I've known you at your worst, I know you, all of you, as much as you hate it."

"Get to your point," Charles sighs.

"Why?" Azazel demands, "what is wrong with you? I take you out of," he flaps his hands, "all Lycan things and you dive head-first back in. In his bed, for Christ sake."

"I'm not sleeping with anybody," Charles starts, calm.

"No?" Azazel snorts, "so you intentionally took up arms against Shaw, side by side with the Brotherhood who's run by Erik Lehnsherr of all Alpha's, and I'm suppose to think you did it for shits and giggles?"

"Azazel," Charles snaps, "you don't have the right to question me. Not after you left,"

Azazel rears back, "you asked me too!"

Charles draws back, smiles small and sad, "you were suppose to stay, to fight for me, not leave,"

"Charles," Azazel starts and moves to walk closer but Charles shakes his head, "I'm alright, It's just,"

"I'm doing this for this," he emphasizes, gestures outside the window at Oxford and inside the bar, "this haven that I found when I was utterly alone and was taken in by these humans, I've made friends, Azazel," he blinks back tears, "I didn't even know I was allowed to have anymore, not after what I've been through. I thought, god, I thought I was going to be alone, after you left, then my students came, one by one, like Jean and then colleagues like Hank, and I can't let the Brotherhood destroy it, not when it's somewhere I fit in, finally, I'm allowed to be more than a omega or a telepath,"

Azazel blinks at Charles, taken back, "I didn't know."

Charles inhales and draws up to his full height, throwing money on the counter before gesturing for Azazel to follow, "I know. But, that's why. I don't know why Erik hates humans so much, I wish I could have helped him get through it, but this is how it's going to go down, this is how it's meant. And, if I'm suppose to help Erik win this war only to create another one, so be it. I won't allow him to kill these humans, to exterminate the human territories. I'm going to help him end this war with Shaw and at the end, I'll know where we'll stand. If we'll part after this or we stand apart as enemies, The Fates will decide."

"He's your Alpha," Azazel says, like it explains everything.

"I know," Charles smiles, small and sad, "but, god, Azazel,  he's known. I don't know for how long but he's known about us two, how we're matched, and he hasn't tried to talk to me about it, offer me a place in the pack, something. He's known and he's still marrying my god damn sister," his voice breaks at the end.

Azazel says nothing, just pulls Charles in to his side.

-

July 8, 2020

"Hey, you," Ravens says, lounging on his couch, watching the news.

Charles doesn't even bother to act surprise, just greets her, before loosening his tie and toeing off his shoes. He flops next to her and curls up, exhausted.

"You teach," Raven says, amused, "what do you have to be tired about?"

Charles doesnt have the energy to snap at her, only heaves a big sigh, "a lot,"

Raven doesnt reply so he peeks a eye open and watches her watch him, "I have a question."

He blinks at her tone and knows its something he'll not want to answer, "okay."

"What happened to you?" she asks.

He pauses, doesnt know what to say but thinks Fuck it, his life is going to shit anyway and answers, "I was tortured for three years."

Raven makes a wounded noise before she's shouting, eyes blazing, "you lied to me!"

Charles rears back, wincing at the loud noise before he's sighing, wiping a hand over his eyes, "Raven,"

"Charles," she replies, thunderous. He can see the undercurrent of emotion, the guilt, the regret, the overwhelming sadness.

"I went to tell you, to bring you back," he pauses, "but you were already with Erik, engaged, at that. I wasn't going to ask that of you, not when you looked so happy." 

She makes a disbelieving noise and he holds a hand up, telling her to hold on, "and then, you had the nerve to call me selfish, and I'm sorry, but you know how much that hurt, to be tortured for three years, only to come back to your sister engaged to Your Alpha and then her telling you that you left her willingly, like I wouldn't have fought till my very death for her safety, and I did, after all those years I took care of her, and she called you selfish, and you felt the blow like you were a captive again," when he looks up, she's crying.

"Raven," he coos and hugs her, she clamps her arms around him like a vice.

"I didn't know," she cries.

"I know," he says.

"Tell me everything," she says.

So he does. He tells her about Stryker, the library, his captivity, the serum that prevents telepathic interference, his misery, the scars.

He shows her the scars around his temples, tells her how he got the one under his eye, pulls his trousers down to show her the brand Stryker left. She takes all it, chest-heaving, lips trembling.

He tells her about his wolf and his distorted telepathy, how he rarely uses it anymore, how it's gone and brittle, how it hurts when he uses it. He tells her about before, about the rings, about how they got in good with Shaw. He leaves out everything with Erik, not willing to talk about him with her.

He tells her of Azazel, of his aiding his torment but actually biding his time for when he could help Charles, he tells her of his reputation when he got back to Oxford, of Stryker's death hanging on his shoulder, of Stryker's pack tormenting him for months and how he had to dispose of them all by himself, how it strengthened his telepathy, to the point where he's called the most powerful telepath ever documented, and how it makes him feel sick for days on end.

He tells her of Logan, the only guy he's ever came close to loving but never fully went that far as Logan is a lone wolf and Charles is destined to be alone, how it's doesn't sting anymore, her with Erik, without him, of Azazel leaving, of Hank only calling when he's needed.

He bares it out and she listens and when he's done, he feels infinitely more lighter and he's smiling.

She stares at him, wide-eyed, for a long moment, "how did you do it?"

He smiles at her, "the Fates."

-

Later on, he questions her.

"Why were you here?"

"Updating you, but we can talk another time about it,"

Charles nods and then frowns as he catches sight of her ring, "Isn't your wedding soon? Like this month?"

She hesitates before sliding her hand under her thigh, he watches it and questions her.

"We decided to put it off," she hedges.

"Why?" He asks because he has too.

She pauses before giving him a shaky smile, "might as well add another sob story."

And then she's telling him about everything. How Shaw treated her, abusing her, after his disappeared, taking his frustrations out on losing his Omega. How she ran in to Erik when she ran away, naked and gleaming blue, how he smiled instead of leered at her, and offered her a place to stay. How he was patient when she snapped at him, cautious, and always made sure to be there when she awoke crying Charles' name. He took her under his wing, made her study, and learn the pack. Until she secured her position as the second, usurping Emma who by the time, Erik saw little of, and was suspicious. Erik eventually found out Emma's meetings with Shaw and kicked her out and Raven has been by his side ever since. She tells the story of the day she tried to make Erik see her as more than a little sister and his rejections. Eventually, time ran out for him and he popped the question, without ever even kissing her. He said he knew Raven would make him happy and she'll bear his pups, keeping the Lehnsherr line. Raven cried to Charles, telling him of Erik's tunnel-vision when it came to Shaw, his single-minded.

"He is the best friend I could ask for, but he'll never be my husband," she sniffed, "even when we marry."

Charles rubs her back soothingly, "I'm sure if anyone can do it, It's you."

"Erik belongs to himself," Raven says, "I know this. I shouldn't expect anything different."

"Raven," he starts.

"You know," she says, quietly, "the only time I've ever seen real emotion from him is when he's with you."

Charles freezes at that and knows she felt it.

"Who's your Alpha you were talking about earlier?" she asks, quietly.

"Raven," he starts, warning.

"Tell me," she demands.

"Him," he says, miserably. Raven stills and Charles rushes to placate her, "It's nothing, Raven."

"But, it's not, is it? It's not just another pairing, is it, Charles?"

"It doesn't matter," he injects firmly, "he rejected me, years ago. Nothing is going to happen."

Raven starts at that, "he did what?"

"When we first moved back to London, like a couple of weeks."

"Oh," she says.

"Yeah," he says and flops back against the couch.

"He's dumb," she says, petulant.

"Are you really arguing about this," he laughs, "he's your fiance,"

"He should be yours," she snaps.

He jerks at this, looking at her with wide-eyes. His skin feels too hot, his heart beating too hard.

"I should go," she says quickly, rising up, not meeting his eyes. He tries to get her attention but she's gone before he can get a word out.

-

 June 12, 2020

Charles deserves this. He does. That's why he's allowed Hank to know a vital date - his birthday. Not knowing that it was basically giving Hank and Azazel a chance to team up (and fuck, he's sure) behind his back and throw him a party - a party.

Like.

Like, he's twenty or something. He's twenty seven now, okay? And he's mature, he is.

He can't believe his friends.

They invited his students, for fucks sake. Charles is going to hell, he's sure, as he watches his student, Jean Grey, chug down a full can with a whole crowd egging her on. He teeters on the edge of the crowd, not sure what he's suppose to be doing, but watching his students get drunk surely isnt one of them. He scowls at Azazel and Hank who are way to close to be anything other than fucking, and watches as Hank turns bright red and he can't take it anymore. Assholes. They can pretend to be lonely like him, can't they?

He walks to the kitchen of one of his many houses scattered around the city, this one spacious enough to throw parties, he hates Azazel, he thinks for the umpteenth time as he watches a couple grinding and the girl's cup is spilling on the tile and Charles glares at the offending liquid spreading on the tile.

He yanks whatever bottle he finds in the refrigerator, going to his makeshift bar and making himself a lovely drink, that will give him a nice flush, that will hopefully draw out impending night partners. He could call Logan, only his ego is slightly wounded the last time they talked, the rejection he faced in the car, and the fact that he's not here for Charles birthday emphasizes it.

He slowly unwraps the barbs of wire he has around his telepathy and let's it rein, soaking in the emotions, heady and intense that has his mind spinning and body flushing. He grins, pleased, as the guests are enjoying themselves, atleast. In alot of different positions, in alot of different rooms.

 He throws back his liquor, not even wincing, and decides he needs way more if hes going to get drunk and forget about well, everything. That is the purpose of parties, he supposes. He's so invested in everyone's minds that he doesn't notice two people entering in the kitchen until one of them taps him. He startles out of it and flashes a smile only for it to fall in bafflement as Raven walks with Erik in tow. His expression falls for a minute before he's slapping a smile back on, albeit a tight one.

"Charles," Raven says, expression bright. She bounces up to him and throws her arms around his neck, "happy birthday!"

"Thanks," he smiles down at her. She's glancing around, latching on to Azazel and Hank, in the living room.

"They left you, didn't they," she's amused, Charles can feel it.

He sighs, "my presence isn't really enjoyed any more."

"Pity," her mouth quirks, "so you're just deciding to piggy-back on the emotions that's around you?"

Charles sputters indignantly, "am not."

"I seen you're expression, I know what you look like when you're somewhere else," she emphasizes with a point to the temple.

"Well, there is a orgy happening two rooms over, to be fair," he huffs.

She laughs, loud and bright, "I knew it was a good idea to come over!"

"How did you know?"

"Hank called me, he hacked in to your phone."

"Of course he did," Charles sighs. His friends.

"Who do you keep company with?" Erik pipes up, mouth quirked up. His presence his commanding in the tight space and Charles can smell him from here. His life.

"Only people who will give me the utmost pleasure from their company," he replies, distracted by the paleness of Erik's neck. He's foregone his usual turtlenecks, instead donned in a sleek black suit that has Charles almost purring in content, at how good his Alpha, or how good his would-be Alpha looks. 

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Erik agrees before stepping around Raven and in Charles space. The smell is almost emanating now, Charles can't be the only one smelling it, it's so distracting and Charles almost licks Erik's neck, but stops himself. 

Erik flashes a smile down at him, teeth gleaming, and Charles almost spontaneously combusts. "Happy birthday, Charles," he says, low, almost reverently.

Charles blinks up at him, eye lashes fluttering, oh my. He knows he can't talk, his throat is way too dry so he gives Erik a smile and stepping back. 

"Help yourself," he blabbers, waving around the kitchen. He needs to get laid, tonight, no exceptions.

"Wait," Raven stops him and takes something out from her pea coat, "I have a gift."

Charles blinks at her, "you didn't have too."

"Well I wasn't there for your last three birthdays," she smiles but its tight.

Charles takes it and marvels at the packaging, the gleam of it. He opens the box and a gold rings lays on red velvet, thick enough to be a part of a Mafia's boss apparel, it's delicate and beautiful. He holds it up and inspects the engraving, the small CFX on the side. He wonders at it and knows it wasn't factory-made, the engravings too small and delicate. He looks up and smiles warmly at Raven who smiles back.

"Erik made it," she says, eyes flashing mischievously and Charles would glare at her if they weren't in the presence of said man, "but, I told him what you would like and the decor."

"It's lovely," he breathes, before slipping it on his ring finger, just not the right hand. It snugs perfectly and he watches it shine in the light. He pulls Raven in for a hug and they hold for a long moment, it feels like things are finally looking up.

He withdraws and flits his eyes toward Erik, who's taken to leaning against the wall, foot propped up. It's the picture of confidence that has Charles scrambling to express his thanks and he takes a hesitant forward, knows it's hesitant as he watches Erik latch on him, how unsteady he feels and probably looks. Erik watches Charles approach him, face smooth, mouth curved in a small smirk, eyes impossibly stormy.

"Erik," he starts, pauses, doesn't know how to fill in his gratitude.

Erik doesn't help either, just taken to watching Charles. He pauses but thinks To hell with it, it's my birthday and I'm going home with someone who's not Erik anyway before he's leaning forward, breathing in Erik's scent, lightly pressing his lips to Erik's cheek in a chaste kiss. His lips are wet from the liquor and he can't bring himself to feel bad when he pulls back and a small shine of spit gleams under the light. Charles can still feel Erik's stubble under his lips and he steps back, biting his lip.

Erik's smile has dropped from his mouth and Charles knows he's done something to ruin whatever has transpired tentatively between the two so he hastily stumbles back and turns to Raven, can't regret it, won't, actually. 

He gives a tight smile to Raven who's trying to smooth the frown she has, baffled at what just transpired, "I'm going to head back."

"Of course," she nods, "we'll be around, might leave early."

He nods, tries not to think about these two in his house, in his new life that can't fit them in. He walks out the kitchen and to the middle of the living room where Azazel sees him and twirls his tail around Charles arm and tugs him to his spot in the corner. Hank smiles at him, lips obviously swollen from certain activities and Charles can't bring it in himself to be bitter, not when he's glowing. It's infectious and Charles grins back and they laugh and laugh.

"I know you've turned in to a old fart now, but you have to go dance," Azazel purrs before shoving him in the crowd.

Charles sputters and moves to go back but Jean catches sight of him and Charles can tell shes drunk, the sheen of her eyes, the stumbling, but he lets her pull him in and then he's dancing.

He knows he must look surprised because Jean's grabbing his arms and tightening them around her waist and then she's dancing with him, sensually and erotically. They touch in all the right places, or wrong Charles supposes she's his goddamn student, but he can't bring himself to care right now. Not when he feels those two awfully distracting minds hovering over his peripheral threatening to suffocate him. He dances with her and he's aroused but he can't and won't sleep with one of his students, he's been good and he won't give that up now. He's twenty-seven, he's getting old, has to settle down soon, but not with this Alpha, who's eyes are flashing as his scent begins to take over her.

He lightly breaks away from her, tightening his arousal in a lid, and she whines but lets him leave, latching on to another person walking by. He wonders idly for a second, if Jean could be a suitable Alpha for him, could satisfy him in a way he craves and has been without for so long now. He has to think on it, knows she'll be all for it, if evident by her actions.

Huh. Jean Grey.

He'd never thought. Maybe, she could be.

He strips his outer shirt, leaving him in a stuffy button up, and he really needs air. It's way too hot and his mind won't shut up. Side-effect of the two who must not be named, he's sure.

He walks back to the kitchen and checks to make sure theres no surprises anymore and then hes rummaging around in the fridge for a bottle of water. He finds it and jumps on top of counter, leaning back and letting the cool marble of his cabinets to soothe his overheated skin.

He doesn't know how long he's there before he feels a tell-tale sign of a mind and he opens his eyes to find Erik leaning against the opposing counter, watching him.

Charles blinks at him and then tries to get his mouth to work right, feeling sleepy but aroused, "Erik," he greets.

"Charles," Erik nods at him.

"How's the party?" Charles questions, leaning forward and off the cabinet. He tries to ground himself but fails miserably as Erik's air permeates the small space of the kitchen. His skins heating again.

"Fine," Erik concedes.

"Good," Charles answers awkwardly.

Erik pauses and flashes him a look, "why are you really helping us?"

Charles sighs, knows this was going to happen, "contrary to your egocentric belief, Raven did have a life before you, she is my sister."

"Fair enough," he doesn't rise to the challenge and Charles feels oddly disappointed. Seems like only one of them, grew up, after all.

"Is there any reason your here?" Charles prods.

"Contrary to your egocentric belief, I do support Raven in what she does," Erik says.

Charles feels berated, "fair enough."

They fall in to an uneasy silence. Charles skin feels to tight and he's too wounded, the way he always feels when Erik's around. He wonders when he'll finally settle down around Erik, when his body will stop picking him out in a crowd, when he'll just be another The One That Got Away and how long it'll take. He hopes not much longer. He's been punished enough, he thinks.

His mind set is blurry and Erik's scent is heady and the arousement from Jean is still pumping in his bloodstream and his telepathy is still roaming and it's building and before he can stop it he's asking, "how do you know when you found the one you want to be with?"

Erik stills and cocks his head, "what?"

"It's just," Charles is horrified but he trudges on, "you're getting married and I remember you Erik, before I left, when I first arrived back in London, It seemed like you'll never want someone enough, like you'll never love someone enough to consider equal to tie you down, you," Charles breathes, veins on fire.

Erik says nothing but his eyes are a molten silver, like a band of steel. The emotions in the air are thick and Charles gulps and continues, "how did you figure you wanted to marry Raven?"

Erik's quiet but a full minute before he says, "trust your instincts, they know."

"Oh," Charles says, helplessly, not willing to give this moment up, he needs Erik's permission, he realizes, he needs it or he'll never move on, he needs it, he needs it, he needs it, this mantra is stuck playing in his head. 

"Why?" Erik asks, harsh for a full second, before he's mellowing back out like nothing happened. Like he wasnt the old Erik for a second, like Charles could ever forget the old Erik. 

Charles winces, this is it, he needs it, "I think I've chosen an Alpha."

The air stills, Charles knows it has, he can't feel when he's taking in breaths, and Erik blinks. He's quiet and tension lines his shoulder, his eyes flash a quick familiar color but everything remains normal. Charles knows it's the wolf in Erik rejecting the notion but Erik's humanity will always override his wolf, his mutant abilities and moral convictions to strong to be pushed over by a wolf, and Erik doesn't want Charles, only Erik's wolf does, and that's fine. Charles realizes, Erik doesn't like him, merely tolerates his presence. He might have figured it out that Charles is his Omega but he doesn't want it and Charles is trying to move on, he is.

 He's talking, Charles blinks back in to what he's saying. "How did you figure it out?"

Charles backtracks, "It's not my actual Alpha but I've picked her."

"Her?" Erik's voice is dangerous, Charles realizes.

He nods, "I just wanted to know how you knew to pick Raven," Instead of me, Charles thinks, what was so special about her?

"Why are you asking me this?" Erik asks, suddenly, his voice low and annoyed.

Charles winces, "never mind. Forget I asked," he says. Her leans his head back down over the cold marble and closes his eyes, trying to desperately to block out Erik and the shrinking of his heart. How much is his wolf going to take before she rots? Charles doesn't want to find out. Jean will be his Alpha and he will be happy, she will make him happy, he's sure of it. So what if Erik won't approve, won't even entertain the notion that someone would want Charles, so fucking what. After this mission, he will never talk to him again, only when he has too. 

He ignores Erik who tries to get his attention. He guesses Erik's given up, he doesn't want to talk to Erik, not anymore, not ever. What a great fucking birthday, he thinks.

Erik only gives him a second to process the slight movement before he's jumping up due to a body pushing him farther in to the cabinet, digging in to his back. He yelps and scrambles to right himself and away from the digging pain in his back and he latches on to Erik's body by pushing forward, hands tangled up in his suit. He carefully avoids his back and looks up at Erik, who's looking down at him, face passive. He gets a flash of deja-vu, of him ripping Erik's shirt to shreds, before he's untangling himself hovering between the cabinet and Erik's body. His thigh brackets Erik's strong legs and a flash of heat spurts down his spine.

He licks his lips to say something but Erik's arm shoots out and wraps around the back of his head, yanking Charles face up to stare in his face. His hand is warm and unyielding in Charles hair and he tries not to make any sudden noise. Erik's wolf is out he realizes, by the deadly grace that he's emitted, Erik has been pushed back, he realizes. His Omega responds immediately to the revelation and she's warring with Charles and he relents, if only because he owes her so much. She deserves this.

He's with her though, responding to Erik's ministrations, as Charles would responds if it were Erik and not his wolf. Oh, how he aches. Erik's growl starts from his chest and bubbles forward, vibrating through Charles and making him purr in content. 

Erik's eyes flash up to Charles before he's leaning forward and latching his mouth on Charles pulse point and Charles straightens, body on fire, and he lets out a whimper, spreading his legs wide pulling Erik in to his body. Erik sniffs up his neck before licking a long stripe that goes straight to Charles' penis. All he can smell is Erik and it's nothing like he's smelt before, he can smell the Alpha, so close and personal. Charles can't even see through clear eyes, it hazy and unclear. Charles yanks him away from his neck, trembling, and tries to ignore the warning growl before he's sniffing Erik's neck and Erik lets him, still staring down at him, and Charles tentatively flicks his tongue and tastes. He flicks his eyes up to Erik's who's clenching his jaw and takes it as a good sign and continues, testing him up and up and until he clamps down. Erik jerks and rips him away, chest heaving. Erik wraps a hand around his throat and pushes his face to the side, yanking Charles buttons off and his shirt, pulling it down until his unmarked shoulder is displayed to Erik. He grumbles in approval and Charles bares himself, at mercy.

Erik licks the mark and Charles shouts, a shot of pure pleasure running through his system, and his hole starts to drip slick. Erik smells it as his head snaps up and he manhandles Charles in to a spread eagle position and bends down and sniffs through Charles trousers. 

Charles whimpers as his nose touches feather-light around his arching hole, and he's leaking through them. Erik flicks out his tongue and licks it clean and Charles can do nothing but throw his head back, stomach clenching in knots. He needs something, now. Erik pokes at his hole, through the fabric, and Charles moans at the slightest brush. 

Erik unbuttons Charles zipper and goes pulls it down and he's so close but freezes when a shuffle from outside the kitchen catches both off-guard. Charles' Omega takes rein of his powers and tells everyone in the house to not come in the kitchen but when Charles look at Erik, who's frozen and not moving, he's staring down at Charles heatedly but surprised and oh, Erik's back.

Charles tells his Omega as such and she whimpers but remains in and he doesn't wince and his heart doesn't break when Erik hastily scrambles off and doesn't look him in the eyes. He's smoothing himself down, Charles realizes, to get back out there for Raven.

That's a acceptance of Charles picking out an Alpha, if he ever saw one. He wonders if it'll stop hurting now.

-

That night, Jean is a somber presence next to him in bed, and he watches her sleep. Her strap-on lays on his bedside table along with a pill for unwanted pregnancy that he took before and but he's still burning up, the itch in his veins strong. He can see Erik's sharp teeth, golden skin, smell his scent.

It's disconcerting especially when Jean's mark burns on his shoulder.

He's marked.

-

June 19, 2020

A week later, it still hasn't gotten any weirder. Jean's in his intro to Genetics class and she smiles at him, small and pretty but she's his student and he can't get over it. His mark burns when she smiles but his heart doesn't.

He doesn't know whether to cry or thank the Fates.

There cruelty is unparalleled.

-

June 24, 2020

"Come out, Charles," she whines, pulling at him arm. He sighs and fixes her with a look, "I have to grade."

"Just one club," she promises.

He shakes his head and  she sighs before walking in their room and shutting herself out.

He leans back and rubs his temples, feeling her emotions, suffocating him.

-

June 30, 2020

"What do you mean, you have to go?" she questions, voice confused.

"My sister just called me, It's urgent," he says, as he yanks his keys off the hook.

"Charles," she orders, oozing Alpha control. His mark flares and he whips around to look at her, eyes wide. She softens and pulls him in, her scent wrapping around him, "be safe. And, that's a order."

"I will, love," he smiles at her, kissing her lightly.

She lets him go but a frown stays on her face.

-

Charles smooths down his shirt and scents himself, his and Jean's scent surrounding him and he shrugs, he knows he won't be recognizable and that's why there not answering the door.

I'm here, he projects inside the building and only has to wait another three seconds before the door is pulling open and Raven is walking out with a expression that Charles decides he doesn't want to decipher.

"Charles," her mouth is parted, "you mated?" she screeches.

"Yes," he offers her a smile but frowns when she hits his shoulder.

"You didn't tell me there was somebody, who is he?" she asks excitedly but stands to attention when they both catch sight of Erik walking out the door and in the summer heat. He's staring at Charles, nose pointed in the air, scenting.

Charles eyes him warily, the last memory horribly embarrassing, how he acted and he hopes Erik will forgive him. It won't happen again after all, he's mated now. Everything's changed. 

Except, Charles flicks his eyes around Erik, scenting him, taking him in.

It hasn't.

Charles rears back in horror, as his body response to Erik, how it always responds. The mark feels searing and he touches it, horrified.

Erik watches him and and then latch on to his shoulder and his eyes darken, "you're marked?" he asks, tone furious.

Charles can't answer, over the roaring pain of his shoulder, and he touches it, soothing it for a few seconds. 

"Yes," he says, voice carefully blank.

Erik steps forward, face thunderous but Charles winces as his mark pulses with pain, at his close proximity. He takes a step back.

"Charles," Erik threatens and takes another step forward.

"Stop!" Charles barks, throwing out a hand.

"No," Erik barks and oh, boy, his Alpha is rising and Charles is scared, he's terrified, about what's about to happen. How his body will react, how his Omega, how the Fates will react. He strides over to Charles who's standing, pale and shaking, and cups the back of his neck, an awfully familiar feeling.

Charles whole body shakes, and his shoulder flares red-hot, "stop touching me."

"No," Erik replies, using his other hand to touch the mark.

Charles body convulses and his eyes flit back, the pain unlike everything he's ever felt before, and that's saying a lot. He hears Raven in the background, the sound of her screeching telling Erik to stop, but he's not listening. He's not even in control, Charles realizes.

Erik's scenting him, and his lowers his face till it's level with the mark and he get's out a guttural, "I'm sorry," before he licks it. Charles screams and his minds blanks, his shoulder on fire, he feels blood in his body crawling instead of pulsing and he sees Jean in his mind, confused and worried and furious.

"Erik, stop," he breathes as the pictures fades in out and out. He's severing the bond between them, Charles realizes, how can he? How is that possible, It can't be.

"No," Erik says and that's the last thing Charles hears because Erik bites over the mark and he's out, pain roaring in his mind. His mind flickers and he can see something in the distance, a blonde haired women laughing in the distance.

-

When he awakes, he feels fine. But he knows everything is but.

He gets up and walks to the door, not even bothering to look around. He's furious. He's in their house though, can feel their minds.

He follows it and doesn't bother to knock, walking in and to his utter surprise, finding his sister naked and on top of Erik. She jumps up, horrified, but he's not looking at her. He's looking at Erik who's looking back, expression blank. 

"Get out," He tells Raven and she listens.

He sits opposite of Erik and stares at him until Erik sits up, expression uneasy.

"Put some clothes on," Charles orders but Erik doesn't move.

"Alright," Charles concedes, "we can do this without clothes."

"Now," he feels light-heated over the spark in his veins, the anger he breathes in, "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Who are you talking to like that?" Erik spits, eyes shining.

"I fucking hate you," Charles spits.

Erik doesn't say anything for a while but then he drawls, "likewise."

"How!" Charles explodes, seething, "I haven't done anything to you, I actively try to keep my distance, It's you and Raven who keep pulling me back," he yells, doesn't care if they all can hear him.

Erik does though, "keep it down," he hisses.

"Fuck you," Charles hisses, grabbing whatever it on the table in front of him and throwing it at Erik who easily dodges it, "you goddamn asshole!"

"What is wrong with you?" Erik's hissing.

"What's wrong with me? That's rich," he laughs harshly, "I've tried Erik, god have I tried, but you never wanted me!"

Erik rears back, expression surprised, "what?"

"Why?" Charles asks, desperate and to his horror, can feel tears springing, "I've found me an Alpha! Let me have that!"

Erik's expression shifts, "I never mean to do what I did, I wasn't in control."

"No shit," Charles laughs watery, "you don't think I know that? That you would do that voluntarily? Yeah fucking right, I know, Erik, but you need to learn to control him because I can't keep doing this."

"Were you ever working for Alex?" Erik asks suddenly, "back when I asked, all those years ago, when I accused you."

"No," Charles smiles sadly.

Erik eyes him for a long time, and his expression looks rattled. His blows out a long line of breath, "I know I'm your true Alpha and you are my true Omega."

Charles breath catches and they don't say anything for a long time but then Erik is asking, "you loved me? Didn't you?"

Charles doesn't correct him, doesn't say I still do, but he agrees, "yeah, I did."

"I wish I figured it out then," Erik says, smiling sadly, "when I loved you back."

Charles stops breathing and his eyes widen, letting the tears spill. Erik watches him but says nothing after that and Charles doesn't either.

Erik's getting married. His own mark was rejected. A match made in heaven, Charles thinks, sadly.

-

August 4th, 2020

He gets the call around three in the morning, Jean's no longer at his side and he feels colder, with no-one around. He wakes up to the shrill screaming of it and he knows, he knows and his hand shakes as he answers it.

"Come now," Raven barks at him, tone shaken and he can see her tears, "It's happening."

When he gets there, the safe house is half destroyed and the carnage of the bodies surrounding the house, stares at Charles. He tears his eyes away and runs to where he sees Raven commanding three other mutants and when he gets there she dismisses them and pulls him in to a hug.

"They took him," Raven sobs, "they took Erik."

-

They've devised a plan to get him back and Raven's commanding the rest of the mutant force to combat Shaw's. She's left with them and Charles is standing in front of the safe house that's started it all, with Alex and then Erik, and now Erik and Raven, and now it's a grave-site, where people were slaughtered. He can't forgive Shaw, he can't. 

"Ready for one more adventure?" Azazel asks, from his side. He blinks back his tears and takes in Azazel's sad smile and he smiles at him, in despite of everything.

"Of course," he says and then their teleporting away.

-

They've teleported in front of Shaw's mansion and Charles diligent studies of the new floor plans has him directing Azazel to where he knows the opening is. When he gets there, he instructs Azazel to help Raven and then he's alone.

He walks through the tunnels and he makes it to the lower floor of the mansion. He can feel Emma's mind, sharp and poised, and he makes sure to shield himself.

When he get's to the familiar living room, he's faced with a smiling Shaw and a amused Emma, standing next to him.

"Charles," Shaw says, delighted, "I heard they found you. I didn't believe it but well," he shrugs.

"Shaw," he says, monotone.

"No needs for formalities, I am your Alpha," Shaw states and Charles skin crawls. Emma frowns at Shaw's side but doesn't say anything

"Wheres Erik?" he asks.

Shaw's sharp features tighten, "Is that where you went? Whoring yourself out to the enemy the entire time? Maybe I shouldn't have taken you in, that night."

Charles impatience skyrockets and he goes to plunder his mind but Shaw tuts at him, "I'm sure you've heard of the telepathic serum that blocks your abilities,"

Charles stares in horror and he smiles, "I guess you have."

Then, a hand if covering his mouth and he's kicking and scratching the person behind him. They're too strong and Charles can't get in to their mind and it's Stryker all over again. Before, he can do anything else, Azazel teleports in and takes in sight of the scene.

He tries to communicate with Azazel but he's avoiding his gaze and Charles mouth frowns under the mans hand.

Azazel? He asks but Azazel fixes him with a sharp glance, going to stand next to Shaw.

Charles eyes widen and rush of betrayal so strong leaks out that both Emma and Azazel winces. His heart drops. His Omega whimpers.

"Oh, yes," Shaw drawls, "he's with me."

-

"Wheres Toad?" Raven asks frantically, watching Shaw's and her mutants fighting around her. She dodges a flying mutant and looks around frantically, but he's nowhere in sight. Who's with Charles, then? she cries, horrified.

-

Charles is sat at Shaw's ankles, facing the door, while Shaw pets his hair. His revulsion is so strong, he's practically breathing it in and letting it out. His stomach rolls and he wishes for miracle. Where is Erik? 

"Don't worry about your lover boy," Shaw drawls, "I've taken care of him."

Charles body freezes, his veins freezing eye cold. His heart slows and wants to cry out. Wants to hurt. Wants to kill.

-

Emma frowns at the scene in front of her but mentally counts down the seconds.

5.  Shaw coos at Charles, lightly caressing his lips.

4. He leans forward, placing a kiss on Charles who scrambles back.

3. Shaw's face twists in frustration and he yanks Charles back with a hand in his hair.

2. Charles cries out and tries in vain to scramble away.

1. Shaw laughs, delighted but stops when:

0. Erik bursts through the door, looking like the strong powerful Alpha she fell in love with.

-

 Azazel watches the scene, cursing his foolish heart for the heady feeling of happiness, of Erik coming to Charles rescue. To his rescue. To Emma's rescue. 

Erik walks in, takes the coin that lays around his neck and careens it straight through Shaw's head, who's still smiling at Charles.

Well, that's very anti-climatic.

-

Charles watches in horror as one minute Shaw's smiling at Charles, leering and lust clear in his eyes before a silver gleam of a coin is going straight through his head. He's still bent over and he watches in sick fascination as a bead of blood wells from the wound before he's falling forward and onto Charles. He yelps and pushes Shaw's body off of him, standing up and breathing heavily, pausing in confusion at how quiet the room is, after Shaw's death.

He looks up to see Erik, who's staring at him in amusement and then he looks at Emma and Azazel's who expression mirrors each-others; relief.

Charles feels left out and sick and he runs to the bathroom he knows is located a hallway down and retches, even though nothing comes out. He hadn't ate dinner that night.

He feels a presence petting his hair and he looks behind him, wiping his mouth, to a sorry-looking Azazel.

"Sorry, Charles," he says, shaking his head, "I couldn't tell you."

Charles shakes like a leaf but he takes hold of Azazel hand, "It's fine, honestly, I'm happy everybody's safe."

"Well," Azazel winces, "Raven's on the battleground, right now."

"What?" he screeches and scrambles up, "take me there!"

Azazel acquiesces and then he's staring in to Raven's face which is slack in relief.

She pulls her in to him and then she's looking at Azazel, really looking at him, and then she's pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. Charles hangs back, delighted, at being alive, at them two being alive. 

He looks around and is relieved to find only minor casualties but the fighting really stops when Erik arrives, carrying Shaw's dead body above him, "Mutants! Your leader is dead!"

The rest of the remaining mutants stop fighting and start to look uneasy but Erik grins at them, "join me."

-

The safe house is in ruins so Charles suggests another of his safe houses that's in mutant territory and Erik's territory, that he purchased when he first found out about Raven in the Brotherhood, and they arrive there.

The newly-acquired mutants have stayed in there rooms but the ones that survived are milling around, adrenaline still pumping. Charles watches it all with Raven and Azazel at his side and tries not to miss Erik's presence too much, he's with Emma, who's he's naturally supposed to be with, Charles learned that the hard way, over the years.

He makes sure Azazel and Raven are fine and then he's catching a train back to his place, without telling anybody good-bye. 

He figures, he's allowed to be done.

-

When he wakes up, hours later, he knows he has to leave, to go.

The itch in his veins will never be satisfied.

 -

August 30, 2020

Charles has taken to writing in a diary, makes him feel less lonely.

He's in vampire territory and it's different than a human or a Lycans, it's colder and darker. Vampires leer at him when he passes, one of the only Lycan's living in a vampire territory.

It's frustrating because he's trying to make the pain go away, to make his Omega satisfied without giving her what she really wants, and he can't even drink for fuck sake because everything has blood in it.

Like a Blood Mary.

Charles loves Blood Mary's but not actually bloody, that's annoying, like, imagine his surprise. He spit it out so quickly that the bartender shot him a dirty look and told him to get out, that's so fucking rude, Charles fumes.

But, anyways. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing, or pleasing in general, but hey, atleast he's away and he doesnt have worry about the one who must not be named.

He's called Raven once a month and she's assured him that shes's safe and she finally got around to telling Erik that she's the younger princess of the royal family, he didn't take well, but good enough to not kick her out or stop the engagement. Charles is happy for her, even if Azazel is suffering for it.

He's taken to visiting Charles once a week to tell him his tale of woes, about being in love with Raven, who only has eyes for Erik, how he's had to break it off with Hank because of it, and Charles shouldn't find it funny, but it is. He told Azazel, Welcome To My Life, and Azazel left and never returned since. Charles refuses to feel bad.

-

September 3, 2020

Charles is in the middle of reading Trainspotting for the tenth time in his lifetime because lets face it, Irvine Welsh is a literary genius and he has the biggest crush on Ewan McGregor due to the Trainspotting film, and he really wants a film to be made for Filth, but whatever, that's besides the point.

The point is this: Erik found him, this day. September 3rd, 2020.

When he looks back on this date, that's what sticks out, this date. Because it's the end of Charles' story, the end of his tragic fucking love story, that has spanned the tale of four years, which is way too long for him.

Okay, so this is how it went: (see below)

So. Charles is reading Trainspotting and he's sipping on coffee with blood as creamer because he hates himself and his idea to live in a vampires territory and it tastes god awful, he doesn't even like coffee, but whatever.

He's reading and he's sipping and he has to keep wiping his lips because the blood is staining them and he's not a vampire, he's a Lycan and he can't be seen drinking blood, god damnit. The best of two worlds, and all that.

Someone pulls a chair from his table out and he frowns in irritation as his propped up foot drops down and he looks up to see, surprise surprise, Erik.

He rears back in shock and his instincts are telling him to run as far away but he stays seated and says, "hello, old friend."

Erik smiles easily and Charles finds he's staring because Erik looks good, not that he never does, but he looks relaxed and happy so it's not a surprise when he says, "married life treating you right?"

Erik smiles at him, "what makes you say that?"

"You're," he waves a vague hand around, "glowing."

"Thanks," Erik flashes him a cocky smile and Charles rolls his eyes so hard they might have gotten stuck, "but I'm not married."

"Oh," Charles frowns, "you two post-poned again?"

Erik goes to talk but Charles talks over him, chides him really, "really Erik, by the time you two actually get married, you'll be like sixty and even I wouldn't want to marry you."

"You wouldn't?" Erik asks, innocently and Charles fixes him with a droll stare.

"You might be hot now but all the goods would be dried up," he says meaningfully with a flick of his eyes to Erik's crotch.

Erik throws his head back and laughs and Charles smiles, small and brittle, at this small accomplishment. It doesn't hurt that much, not frequently, at least.

"It's Raven, when someone promises marriage, she is getting it," he smiles to himself, a small private smile.

Charles doesn't feel like intruding so he sits up straighter and makes a move to stand, "can't wait till the wedding, then," he nods a goodbye to Erik.

He's halfway out the door when he sees Erik following him, "did you forget something?" he asks, confused.

"Yeah," Erik says after a long minute.

"Well?" Charles asks.

"You," Erik says and his eyes sparkle.

"What?" Charles questions, "I said I'm going to the wedding."

"Good, I need a date," Erik says, breezily as they walk further out the door.

"What?" Charles stops to a halt and fixes him with a stare, "see this face? Confused."

"What?" Erik smiles deviously at him, "you think Raven and I are getting married?"

"Uh, yes?" Charles ventures, hesitantly, heart pounding.

"Oh, Charles," Erik sighs, "I thought as a telepath, you'd be smarter, honestly, I'm starting to feel ripped from my side of the deal."

"What deal?" Charles squeaks, frowning.

"The Fates deals, you know," He says, waving a hand, "sending my true Omega to me and all."

Charles licks his lips and his heart stutters, "so who's Raven marrying then?"

Erik pauses for effect and Charles lightly pushes at him, "Azazel.

Charles rears back, surprise coloring his voice, "she is?"

"Seems like he gathered up the courage after talking to someone," Erik says meaningfully and Charles blushes, "and she immediately stopped our marriage, seemed like she was in love with him too," Erik frowns.

Charles sputters, "I'm so sorry, Erik! I didn't mean it like that, I didn't mean for him to get in the way."

"See this face?" Erik points at his face, "happy."

"Okay, you've lost me now," Charles states, confused beyond compare.

"That's fine by me," Erik smiles at him, sunny and delighted, "I'll get you back, again, after all."

-

END