Out of Our Control @mutxntrage
It had been a difficult month, since the incidents at the White House. After speaking to his future self, Charles had attempted to strive towards the future he had seen; a future where he accepted himself, wholly, and didn't rely on the serum to block out the white noise constantly echoing in his head.
Sighing, he poured himself another drink, having lost count what number this one would be a long while ago. His thoughts took a darker turn, memories of his mother passed out brought forth in a twisted parallel to his own new habits.
He couldn't help himself, though. It seemed that every time he found the strength to try and better himself, something was always there to tear his resolve away.
Today, it had been a radio report. A mutant had infiltrated a government facility and lay waste to it. Whether it was Raven or Erik, Charles didn't know, but either person was a little too painful to think on at present.
Taking another swig of the whiskey, welcoming the familiar burn in his throat, Charles eyed the contents of the lovely ornate table before him. Before him lay his usual whiskey bottle, and a rather tempting syringe, brought to him by Hank.
"I'm sorry..." He apologised to the silent night air, hand reaching out slowly to stroke the needle. "I am not strong enough to hope, not after I've lost everything again."
With that, he grabbed the container of liquid, fastening elastic around his upper arm and injecting the serum, sighing in contentment as the voices in his head faded into a dull whisper.
