When The Fire Dies, All That’s Left Are The Ashes || cxeruleus
The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters was supposed to be a place where mutants could learn and grow, work together and advance their knowledge not only academically, but of themselves and the world they lived in. What Charles had never counted on was the very lifeblood of the school, the students, being taken from him. The Vietnam war drafted anyone older than eighteen, and even a few younger left in an attempt to enlist with forged papers. Parents began pulling the rest out of school, until all that was left were the few wards of the state that Charles had convinced to come to his school. It had killed him when he announced the school was closing, but there was just no point in keeping it open anymore.
Over the next several years, Charles spiraled, hurt deeply by the loss of his dream. He came to blame much of his pain on... Well, it didn’t matter, and just talking about his old friend soured his mood. These days, only Hank McCoy remained by his side, his only friend. He had always been there for him. When the nightmares came, it was Hank who shook him out of his terror. Hank who developed a serum for the pain, for the voices... who allowed him to walk again. Still, it wasn’t enough to keep his head above water. He drank too much, was angry too often, and spent most of his days alone. Charles barely even called for his only friend, save when he needed something.
“Hank!!” he shouted through the mansion. Why he needed such a big house was beyond him these days. But selling it would seem like really giving up. “HANK!! Where the bloody hell are you?”
@cxeruleus
