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The Darkness Between Stars

Charles, Erik and Moira arrive back at the base just as Shaw kills Darwin. In that moment, exposed to Darwin's terror and pain, Charles snaps, and lashes out in pure rage. When he comes to his senses, everyone he loves is terrified of him, and there's a soft, kind voice at the back of his mind telling him everything will be all right.

But how can it be when a man lies dead at his feet?

My contribution for the @cherikzine, Bookends of the Same Soul, featuring dark!Charles and a fix-it of Darwin’s death - thank you so much to the organisers, I had such a great time ^_^ If you still want to get merch and a pdf of all the incredible content, you can find it all here, please have a look! Thank you so much to @ikeracity for beta-ing! Read on AO3 if you prefer!

The silence in the car was more awkward than it ever had been between him and Erik, had been since they’d left Russia. For the thousandth time, Charles considered… just a little peek. Just to see what Erik was thinking. Instead, he stared out of the window at the gathering dark as they drove back to the base.

What he’d seen in Emma’s memories was terrifying. Fantastic, to be able to see the past through the mind of another telepath, but the things he’d seen were horrifying. Shaw truly was a maniac, and even Charles’ firmly held belief that everything could – should – be achieved without violence was shaken.

At least they’d been able to get an early plane home. For a while it had seemed like they’d have to spend days in Russia before catching a transport back, and with tensions high between the children and the agents, Charles hadn’t been keen on that idea. Perhaps he and Erik could talk before they were sent off again on their next mission, clear the air between them. Charles stole another glance at Erik’s stoic face, wished he dared hear his thoughts.

And then reeled as the wave of terror hit him. “Oh, God, Raven… Moira, please drive faster – Shaw’s at the base… he’s found the children.”

He didn’t know how he survived the next few minutes, even on that short last leg up to the base. He clung to Raven’s thoughts, trying his hardest to reassure her without letting his own abject terror through to her mind, trying to reach the others. Erik held his hand outstretched, his power at its limit, hauling the car along the road faster than it could possibly drive under its own steam.

They tumbled out of the car, raced through the corridors, past dead bodies that Charles could barely notice, so fixated was he on getting to the children, getting to Raven.

And then, as they ran into the grass square in front of the common room, they saw Darwin, his skin glowing, his body burning to ash, and Charles screamed, fell to his knees as he heard Darwin’s terrified voice in his mind. He frantically tried to reach out, his entire being focused on the young man in front of him, trying so hard to adapt, to survive. Dying.

Shaw turned to go even as Darwin’s body drifted as ash on the air. Turned with a smirk as Erik raced forward, screaming at him, and Charles knelt on the grass, dug his fingers in the earth and broke.

It’s not so hard, he told himself so many times. You just have to be better than them. You have to show them that they’re not getting to you, don’t be angry. Anger never solved anything. You have to be… serene. Smile. They want to see you weak, they want to see you broken, don’t let them see that. You are serenity. You are peace. You are calm, and they can’t reach you here.

Charles’ power flooded out of his body, lashing in every direction, as vicious as a solar wind, and the only thought in his mind was vengeance.

He stood as everyone around him fell to their knees, all but the man who’d killed one of his people, his children. Shaw stood where Charles held him, every line rigid and vibrating, every thought one of fear. Charles forced his mind into every nerve of his body, in control of every twitch. His grief burned through Shaw so that if he’d been able to move his mouth he would have screamed with pain, every fragment of his soul raw and exposed to Charles’ fury.

He forced Shaw’s muscles to do his bidding, moved his legs and turned him around. Forced him to walk up to face him as his rage continued to roar through the minds of everyone nearby.

It took an effort to wrestle back some control, to release his friends – his family. Erik and the others slumped, whimpering and exhausted, but Charles had no time to care for them right now, not when all his care and all his attempts at goodness had got Darwin killed.

He snarled at Shaw, then snapped his fingers, and Erik stood beside him, breathless and terrified. Charles turned to him, frowning. “You don’t need to be afraid. He’s harmless now.”

He forced Shaw to march jerkily over to Erik, standing him still in front of the boy he’d tortured. “He’s yours,” Charles said. “I know you want to kill him. I know what you were planning all that time. I’ll hold him still, you can put the coin through his head now.”

“Charles,” whispered Erik, turning distraught eyes on him.

“What are you waiting for?” Charles snapped.

There was something prickling at the back of his mind, soft fingers, a butterfly emerging, and he shook it off. Twisted his grip on Shaw’s muscles so he fell to his knees at Erik’s feet. Erik staggered backwards, horrified.

“Do it!” Charles yelled, and Erik flinched. Turned his face away, but not before Charles saw the tears forming in his eyes. It infuriated him. “He’s here! He’s yours, kill him, isn’t that what you wanted? He killed your mother, he killed Darwin!”

--going on where am I—

Charles shook his head hard, trying to dispel the gentle sensation in the back of his skull. There was no time for gentle, no time for kind, not when men like Shaw still existed. Why was Erik not doing what he’d always wanted to do? Charles was helping him! Making it easy for him!

“Charles, please,” Raven whimpered.

Charles turned his snarling face on her and she cringed back. Something flared in his mind, something howled in anguish and wept, and the soft sensation held it, gathered it close. Charles wiped his face, forced back the sob, embraced the rage, dug it out of him, filled his entire self up with it.

He reached out with a thought and ended Shaw’s life.

Shaw fell as Charles’ power retracted from his lifeless form. The world took a deep breath, watching him, and Charles screamed.

Hey, it’s OK, kid, you’re OK, come here, I’ve got you.

Charles fell to his knees. The sensation in his mind grew larger, warmer, spread through his mind and wrapped him close. “What are you?” he shouted, clutching at his head. “What are you?”

That’s it, let it all out, but try and aim away from the others, yeah? You’re scaring ‘em.

The burning was like dragon fire, his rage a flame through every pore of his body, but the long breath was ending, and he felt empty. He clutched at the ground and sobbed. “Who are you?”

It’s Darwin… I hope you don’t mind. Look, come on, now, let’s get you up. You’re alright, man.

Charles opened his eyes as horror rushed through him, dousing the rage. He stared around at the circle of people, at his family… at all of them watching him in terror. At Shaw lying dead on the ground, because of him.

“Charles,” Erik whispered, approaching him slowly, arms held out like Charles was a wild beast. And he was… what else could he be to have torn someone’s life from them like that? What kind of monster was he? How could any of them stand to look at him?

Because he was a danger to them. They couldn’t afford to look away, they had to watch him to keep safe, of course. Charles clutched at his chest as the hole appeared inside of him, pain and grief and guilt burrowing deeper into his flesh than anything he’d ever felt. He stumbled to his feet, and Erik, strong, powerful Erik who wasn’t afraid of anything, flinched back from him.

Charles couldn’t hold himself together. He felt the fragments of his soul shattering further, ground to powder, and he ran from their fear, from everything that wasn’t hatred, because they should hate him. He was a monster. There was no way back from this.

***

You don’t want to do that, man.

Charles jumped and pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, trying to stop the continuous flow of tears. “It’s for the best,” he said, and turned the key in the ignition.

You know, I’m starting to figure this whole stuck-in-your-brain thing, Professor – I’ll make you come back.

Charles slumped over the wheel and let himself succumb to sobs, his body shaking, curling into itself.

Darwin’s presence in the back of his mind seemed to pulse affection through him. You’re alright, Prof. There you go. You’ve had a real rough day, huh?

“Please, please don’t be kind to me. I don’t deserve anything like that.”

And what gave you that idea? Darwin asked, a gentle frown in his voice.

Charles took a shuddering breath. “I killed a man… I just… I ended someone’s life.”

He felt the impression of a shrug. He had just killed me so… excuse me if I’m not mourning the guy.

“I hurt the others,” he whispered. “I… I lost control, I hurt all of them. I’m a monster.”

No, you’re not, Darwin said, and Charles could hear his conviction, just couldn’t accept it. I’m not saying that it’s OK to lash out like that - it’s not - but you’re not a monster.

Charles just wept, wishing he could believe him.

You know, I can feel you being all self-loathing, right? C’mon, enough of that. Plenty of people in the world who’ll hate you, you don’t have to do the job for them.

“I just… he just grabbed you… forced you to swallow all that energy and…” Charles gulped. “Oh God, are you OK, Darwin? I’m so sorry, I’m being so self-centred, and you actually… you died.”

Darwin took a deep breath. Or it sounded like he did, strange, the things a mind becomes accustomed to. Well… I thought I had, Darwin said. I thought that was it, no way could I adapt to that. But then there was your mind, so different to all the others, so much more space, and I just… I didn’t even mean to. My consciousness just hitched a lift.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Darwin.” He shook his head. “I wish we’d arrived sooner, we could have… could have done something.”

Looks like you already did something, Darwin said, amused.

The cold, sick guilt flooded through him again, and he lifted his feet onto the seat, wrapping his arms around his knees and wishing he could disappear, be nothing.

No, you don’t, Darwin said briskly. I’ve done that, and it’s better to be here.

Charles tried to control his breathing, tried to hold back his selfish tears, because Darwin was dead (was he?), and Charles had no right to feel like this, no right at all!

That’s not what I meant, Darwin sighed. I’m just… trying to make you feel better. But sometimes that means allowing yourself to feel worse for a little while. You don’t have to pretend that you’re OK.

Somewhere under Charles’ ribs, a leak turned into a flood. Charles sank into it, drowned in it, and yet somewhere around him he felt kind thoughts, patience and comfort. He didn’t think he’d ever felt that in his life.

***

A sharp tapping woke Charles, and he startled hard, banging his head on the car window.

“Why are you sleeping in the car?” Erik asked.

Charles opened the door and climbed out. He stood in front of Erik, his head bowed. “Uh… I didn’t mean to,” he said.

Erik stood, silent. Charles shored up his mental defences. He didn’t want to hear anything, none of what they were thinking about him. Especially Erik. As much as he deserved it, he couldn’t bear to hear Erik hate him.

“We need to leave,” Erik said at last. “Moira’s trying to clear things with the CIA, but there’s a lot of ill-will towards us.” He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “Ah… we need to… Moira suggested it would be best if they didn’t remember us.”

Charles blinked up at him. “Oh… yes, of course. I’m…” He swallowed down his immediate question – how could they possibly trust him? With any of this? Why weren’t they hounding him out of there? “Umm… yes, lead on.”

Erik nodded and turned, sharp and jerky. Charles followed, hoping that somehow he could make up for what he’d done.

See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? Darwin said.

“If you say so,” Charles murmured.

Are you going to be able to do what they want? Take everyone’s memories away? You’ve got a hell of a headache brewing up here.

Charles would cope. He would cope with a lot worse than some piddling migraine if only to win back a modicum of the trust he’d betrayed.

***

“They need somewhere to go,” Moira said afterwards, brisk and practical, and if Erik hadn’t dived into his life in a blaze of fire and passion and fury, Charles thought he could have loved her. “We can’t stay here, but a lot of these kids have nowhere else to go.”

Charles would have checked it with Raven. He wanted to check a lot of things with his sister, but she was staying well away from him. He couldn’t blame her. “I have somewhere we can stay,” he said softly. “If nobody… if that’s OK?”

Moira looked at him, met his gaze, and nodded. “Thanks, Charles. Don’t tell me where it is – plausible deniability and all that.”

She turned to go, and Charles clenched his fists. “Moira, wait.”

She stopped at the door. “It’s OK, Charles. Really. I understand.”

He hung his head and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his chest as she walked out.

You know you have to tell them about me, Darwin said.

Charles swallowed hard. “How do I tell them? They can’t possibly believe me - I wouldn’t believe me. They’ll think I’m lying just to be able to stay around them!”

Darwin shot him a buzzing sensation, a bit like a pinch. You’re making an awful lot of assumptions. How about you give them a chance?

“I should give them a chance to get away from me,” he muttered, but he knew Darwin was right. It wouldn’t be fair on any of them to grieve Darwin when he knew he was still here.

They were gathered in the parking lot, every one of them with bowed heads. Alex was holding a hat, just a battered up old flatcap, and the way he was clutching it, Charles knew it must have belonged to Darwin.

He cleared his throat as he came closer, glancing up for just a moment, then ducking his head again. “I, uh… have something to tell you all,” he said. He could barely raise his voice above a whisper. “When Darwin was…” He trailed off. “Umm… his consciousness seems to have… latched on to me.”

There was silence for a long moment. It was Hank who broke it. “Well, he did say he could adapt to anything.”

The group seemed to let out a long breath. “What does this mean?” Sean asked. “Is he stuck there? Are you just gonna be, like, two people forever?”

I think my body will start reforming soon enough, Darwin said, sounding so ridiculously casual about it all.

“He thinks he’ll get his body back,” Charles said. “It has to reform, so it may take some time. I just… I wanted you all to know.”

“I bet we could speed it up,” Hank said, grabbing the hat from Alex’s hands. “I know a guy, McCulloch – he’s been doing some incredible work with stem cell research. If we can get Darwin’s DNA, we might be able to give his body a head start.”

Alex looked up at Hank, and then at Charles, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. “Is he really safe?” he asked Charles.

Charles nodded. “As safe as he can be,” he admitted.

Alex let out a long breath, and the slightest hint of a smile formed on the corners of his lips. “Wow. That’s… yeah, OK. Wow.”

Hank put the hat in a bag that Moira handed him, and rushed up to Charles to tell him all he knew about this new technology in Ontario, and how if they could get an egg cell, perhaps they could replace its nucleus with that of a cell found in a piece of Darwin’s hair, or something. Charles smiled up at him, relieved beyond belief that at least one of his friends had overcome their fear of him. The power of science.

Even so, the drive to Westchester was awkward at best. Charles was still determinedly keeping his telepathy clamped tight, but he could still hear some of the awe that leaked through when Charles led them up to the mansion, his head bowed under the weight of his own childhood memories.

At least here there would be plenty of space to hide. That had always been the one advantage of this cold, heartless place.

***

I wonder if it is actually possible for me to die

, Darwin said casually as they watched Hank set up the pioneer samples of human cloning.

It’s something I’ve wondered for a while.

“I suppose you’d even adapt to ageing,” Charles murmured, his eyes fixed on the petri dish. Hank glanced at him strangely, but left him to it, as most people did since… everything.

The dynamic of the group had changed in subtle ways. Angel was gone, whipped away along with the other mutant by Shaw’s teleporter. Moira had gone back to the CIA. Alex followed Hank constantly, demanding information about the procedure, asking for the chances of success, fetching and carrying for him and trying to predict Hank’s needs so he could bring Darwin back that little bit sooner.

Look at him, Darwin sighed in Charles’ mind. He’s looking fine today. Someone should really tell him.

I’m not flirting with your boyfriend for you, Charles replied firmly. You’ll just have to wait and do it yourself.

Charles slipped out of the lab and through the corridors, a ghost in his own house again. It was a role he’d worn smooth over his entire childhood, easy to return to. Raven seemed to have done much the same – Charles had barely seen her over the last few days.

It was Erik who’d taken on Charles’ old role. Erik chivvied the children to dinner, encouraged Hank out of the lab, suggested they start to train their mutations, learn their limits and stretch them. He was gruff and reluctant, where Charles had been eager, but he was a natural leader. It was mere days before everyone looked for Erik when they needed something.

Charles wasn’t sure whether to be glad, or desperately sorry. He’d stolen Erik’s purpose away from him when he killed Shaw, and he could feel how lost Erik was some days – even with his telepathy bound tightly around him. At least being in charge of all these untrained mutants was giving him something to do. But it certainly can’t have been what Erik had in mind when he joined them. Had Charles trapped him in this new role, too?

***

Charles, Darwin called, and Charles woke up with a gasp.

“Darwin?”

The voice came again, from far away, and Charles realised that Darwin’s warm, comforting presence wasn’t in the back of his mind anymore.

Charles threw clothes on and raced downstairs, into the lab. “Darwin? Darwin, are you in here?”

In here! he called, and Charles pulled the door open on the incubator. There, in the petri dish, sat Darwin, only an inch tall.

So, turns out my DNA doesn’t need that many cells to get started on adapting, Darwin said cheerfully. Don’t suppose you could let me out?

Charles laughed. The muscles in his face that pulled his lips into a smile ached from disuse. He put the petri dish on the floor, lifted the lid and stepped back. Darwin started to grow – within moments he was standing in front of him with his old wicked grin, and Charles wept.

“Hey, Prof, don’t cry now, c’mon. It’s all going to be alright.”

Charles wrapped his dressing gown around him and led him into the kitchen, calling out for Alex and the others in a voice still afraid to be raised. They emerged one by one, staring at Darwin in wonder and joy, crying and hugging him, and in Alex’s case, refusing to let him go.

Charles stepped back and missed him, missed that easy affection in the back of his mind. And then instantly felt incredibly selfish. God, he disgusted himself, he truly did! He turned to slip away, and bumped straight into Erik.

“Sorry,” he murmured, hunching his shoulders.

Erik put his hand up to balance Charles. They stood awkwardly close for a moment, not looking at each other properly. Charles hated it, hated what he’d done to them, to their easy friendship. To the children’s innocence. He took a sharp breath and tried to slip past.

Erik tightened his grip on Charles’ arm. Charles looked up, wary, meeting someone’s eye for the first time in days. “I should…” Erik frowned. “We should talk.”

Charles slumped further, but nodded. Surely they were going to ask him to leave now? He deserved it, anyway.

They walked together out into the garden, down the wide steps and towards the balustrade. Charles leaned against it, staring out over the distant satellite dish in silence, trying to work up the courage to speak. How does one even apologise for something so huge?

“I’m sorry, Charles,” said Erik, and Charles’ head snapped up to stare at him.

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

Erik hunched his shoulders, fiddling with that coin of his again. “I failed you. You gave me the chance to do what I’ve been working towards for half of my life, and I… I choked.” He swallowed. “You must think I’m such a coward.”

Charles grabbed his hand. “I don’t, God, Erik, how could I think that of you?”

Erik frowned. “I had Shaw right in front of me and I still couldn’t do it. You had to do it for me.” He looked up at Charles, meeting his gaze with deep, sad eyes. “I never wanted you to be in that position – it was my dirty work to do, I wanted to keep you out of it. All of you, and now…”

“I thought you must hate me,” Charles blurted. He let out a long breath. “I keep preaching this… pacifism, and then I went and used my telepathy in the most horrific way. I invaded all your minds, I hurt you, I terrified the children and then I… I went and killed him. In front of everyone, I just… I killed him.”

Charles started trembling, the shock of what he’d done washing over him once again, only this time, he was alone in his mind. There was no-one to comfort him, no-one to pull him back from the horror – but then Erik’s arms were around him, and he was so warm, his mind blanketing Charles’, even as he sobbed so hard he could barely stand up on his own.

Erik’s fingers stroked through Charles’ hair as he cried, hushing gently. He didn’t try to say anything, just stayed, comforted him in a way Charles had thought couldn’t possibly be real, patient and compassionate and protective.

“I’m sorry,” Charles whispered at last.

“No more apologies,” said Erik, his voice almost as rough as Charles’. “And no more hiding yourself away when the children need you, either. Your sister needs you.”

“I didn’t think they’d want me anywhere near them, not after they had to see that.”

Erik held his face, tilted it back so he looked up at him. “You did it to protect them, they all know that.”

“And I hurt them in the process – I had no control,” he reminded him.

“Then learn control,” Erik shrugged. “Or rather, learn to embrace that rage, direct it and use it. Don’t pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Charles sighed and nodded, leaning against Erik’s chest. He wondered how long Erik would allow him to stay this close. When he’d push him away, clingy, needy Charles.

“Never,” said Erik fiercely.

Charles’ head snapped up. “Oh, God, I was projecting, I’m so sorry, Erik, I just—”

“Stop assuming I want to push you away,” Erik said, wrapping his arms around him.

Charles relaxed once more, his body softening in increments as he leaned into Erik’s embrace, resting his face against Erik’s chest. Erik pressed his lips to the top of Charles’ head. The world turned on its axis, and the sun would rise again.

“You were right about him,” Charles whispered after a long time. He gathered his courage and pressed closer, craving that contact.

Erik didn’t push him back. Instead, he pulled him closer and ran his fingers down Charles’ spine. Charles felt like he was feeling the sun for the first time in his life. “What do you mean?” Erik murmured.

“I thought we could stop Shaw peacefully. Put him in prison, make him answer for his crimes, but… I saw him, all of him. There was no part of him that could feel any remorse for what he’d done.”

Erik sighed, cupping Charles’ head in one large hand. “I’m just so sorry you had to do something so against your morals. It was my dirty work and I… I failed you.”

Charles pulled back and held his face between both hands. “No – Erik, not at all. You took on this burden, but it should never have been yours. I don’t…” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I don’t regret killing him,” he admitted. “I regret hurting you all, I regret losing control like that, but… I think it was the only thing that could have been done.”

Erik shook his head. “I never wanted you to be exposed to it. I’m already broken, I was prepared to kill him.”

Charles felt something settle inside his chest, a serenity like moonlight on the great ocean of rage he’d been suppressing all his life. “Shaw didn’t deserve that from you,” he said softly. “He’d already taken so much from you. Why should he have that as well?”

Erik held his gaze and pressed Charles fingers up to his temple.

“Are you sure?” Charles whispered.

Erik nodded, and Charles’ powers fell into his beautiful mind with a gasp like he’d found his way home. A swirling, wordless maelstrom of grief and vulnerability and hope, of possibility, of a need to protect Charles, and a desire to be able to rely on Charles, equals at last. And under it all, a great pool of rage, and a warm serenity, and two men at the balance point, holding each other.

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