Author's Note: This will be a multi-chapter story, and I will update as often as possible. Reviews help motivate me to write more often, and I need feedback to improve my writing! :^)
Summary- Erik Lensherr really yearns for mutant supremacy, but after Charles dies from the ricochet bullet, he decides to take it upon himself to fulfill his friend's dreams for peace between mutants and humans. Can Erik help young mutants while dealing with grief and his many doubts about the cause with which he has aligned himself?
An icy cold tension filled the funeral home. All of the people in the room stood somberly around a wrought iron metal casket, adorned with an intricate silver design, but everyone left space for the tall, brown-haired man who was peering into the casket remorsefully. A pretty, round-faced, red-haired girl, with scaled blue skin, inched up until she was standing beside him, an equally pained look on her face. The others merely left the two of them alone to their thoughts, although each of them was battling painful thoughts as well.
"Raven, I just want to be left alone," the man said, turning away from the girl.
Raven reached her trembling hand out towards him. "But Erik, we're not alone in this!" He flinched away from her touch and resumed his solitary mourning.
A slim, auburn haired woman stared blankly at the casket, standing several steps back. Moira felt waves of guilt wash over her as she looked at the casket, but she maintained a cold exterior. Nearby, a fresh-faced redhead seemed to be on the verge of tears, his face flush with sadness. Next to him, a blond man frowned, his face twisted in anger; normally a handsome young man, his anger distorted his facial features.
Finally, a tall broad shouldered man, wearing a tan trench coat and a dark brown fedora that blocked his entire head from view, stepped forward to the podium. He coughed politely, and the majority of the room looked up to give him their attention. Erik glared at the broad shouldered man, as if daring him to interrupt his own mourning.
"If I may—I would like to speak some words." The crowd nodded and murmured in agreement. "Everyone here knows me. I am Hank McCoy, and although I was only acquainted with Charles Xavier for a fairly short period of time, his presence touched my heart, as he did for many. If he had been given the chance to live longer, he would have become a great man—a great leader! As it is, my life is forever changed because of him. He outed me as mutant, but this was a good thing. Because of his influence, I have experienced a great deal of things I never would have otherwise and I have come to accept myself for what I am!" He ripped off the trench coat and hat, revealing his blue furred body. He was only wearing a pair of dark slacks and dress shoes, but apparently nothing else—no shirt or suit jacket to be seen. Hank bared his teeth, exposing sharp canines. He looked as though he was either about to cry or maul someone, but he calmed down after a moment and moved over to a cluster of chairs, immediately collapsing into the nearest one.
The others in the room had mixed reactions to this surprise display. Raven's face held an odd look as she glanced at him, a mixture of pride and grief; Erik merely raised an eyebrow questioningly; Moira looked half shocked, half disgusted at Hank's behavior at a funeral; the blond man, Alex, was smirking; while the redhead, Sean, looked terrified. After a moment, they returned to their previous states, and with no one else moving up to speak, they prepared to transport Charles's body to its final resting place.
Only Erik stepped forward to the casket—there were no pallbearers—Erik merely levitated the casket with his magnetic powers. No one objected to this arrangement. Erik had been Charles's best friend, and although they had not known each other for long, they had formed an undeniable bond. Raven, Charles's foster sister, had known Charles for the longest, and she agreed that this was what he would have wanted. He would not have wanted the blame for his death to fall to either Erik or Moira.
The procession made its way out into the graveyard. Everyone watched sadly as Erik gradually lowered the casket into the funeral plot. He was being the most gentle he had ever been.
Magneto was concentrating intently on turning the Soviet and American weapons back on their own ships. He created a magnetic field around himself to protect himself from any metal threats or interfering, metal-harnessed mutants. Shots were fired, but they merely ricocheted off of the magnetic barrier, which was quite unfortunate for Charles Xavier, who had chosen that exact moment to stand up, having finally recovered from his hand-to-hand fight with Magneto.
One second Charles had just stood up to face Magneto, and the next, the stray bullet had torn through his chest. Magneto immediately released his magnetic hold on the missiles, and ran towards his dear friend. He rushed over, but he knew, as he saw the bullet hole in Charles's chest, right where his heart should be, that Charles was gone forever. Magneto tried to comfort himself in that Charles's death had been a quick one, but he had no idea if it had been painless, and the circumstances only reminded him of his own mother's death, those many years ago.
After a few moments of distress, Moira, too, came running over. Tears were streaking her face, and she looked extremely distraught. In her, Magneto saw a weaker person to shift blame onto, for his own guilt felt unbearable. "It's your fault, human. Your bullet has killed him! Charles was my best friend! He was like a brother to me, and you have killed him!" Magneto was screaming now, in no way in control of his emotions or his powers. He was again reminded of his mother's death.
The metal around them was beginning to rumble. Magneto's own helmet was beginning to rise. Moira tore off her rising dog tags, fearful of what Magneto's out of control powers could do to her. The young mutants followed suit by pulling off their metal harnesses. All of the pieces of metal, including the helmet, rose into the air, and began swirling around like a metal tornado.
Mystique finally recovered from her own shock at Charles's death, and moved towards Magneto, her hands up in a peaceful manner. "Erik, I know you're distraught over Charles's death! I am, too! So is Moira." She pointed at the cowering woman. "I know you loved him like a brother, so did I! But it's not Moira's fault, and it's not your fault. If anything, it's both your faults, since this wouldn't have happened without both of you!" Mystique's tone had changed from soothing to anger. Beast elbowed her roughly, succeeding in getting her to shut up.
The floating pieces of metal returned to the ground, as Magneto sank to his knees. He was glad to regain control of his emotions and powers. He had no intention of killing a beach full of mutants. An eerie peace washed over the beach momentarily before everyone remembered their loss and sorrow returned.
Mystique was staring at Magneto oddly, as if in shock that her speech had succeeded in calming the older man. Beast nudged her awkwardly and pointed over to Emma Frost, who pointed up at her head and smirked. "Azazel rescued me from that terrible prison. It seems as though you needed some psychic assistance."
Everyone glared at her for reminding them of the loss of their own dear psychic, and the young mutants and Moira took this as their cue to run over to Charles's lifeless corpse. Mystique cradled her brother's head in her lap and began sobbing into his once soft hair. It seemed as though the life had left his hair too, and it was now stiff and somewhat blood encrusted. The others left her some space as they had only known Charles for a short time compared to Mystique.
Gazing at Mystique and Charles, it finally sunk in to Erik that Charles was dead. With Charles dead, there was no longer a leader to fight for his ideals. Erik looked on, sadly. This was not how he wanted the debate for mutant rights to end. Erik could only hope that someone else would step up to lead this opposing movement, but he could not fathom any of the young mutants doing that. The only worthy leader was…himself. Others would definitely fight for mutant supremacy, like Shaw and his minions, but only Erik could lead the fight for mutant and human peace. At the same time he would be opposing Shaw's ideals and memory, he would be supporting Charles's.
Magneto rose to his feet and looked around the beach. "My fellow mutants… and Moira, today marks a terrible day for mutantkind. We have lost a man who would have proved to be a great and powerful leader. His dream was to create a world in which mutants and humans alike could coexist peacefully. I will see to it that his dream will not die with him! The first stage of his dream was to create a school to teach mutants how to use their powers responsibly and also teach them normal school subjects. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters will need some teachers. Who is with me?"
The young mutants looked around at each other, bewildered. Then, Havok voiced the one question on everyone's mind. "Err, Emma Frost, right? Did you rewire Magneto's brain?"
Emma glared at him, offended at the accusation. "No! I merely calmed him down with my telepathic powers."
"Let me explain myself." Everyone turned back to Magneto, glad for a distraction from thinking about Charles's death. "I feel… guilty about Charles…"
Seeing that this was painful for Magneto to say, Mystique stepped in, still tearful. "I understand. Charles would have wanted us to continue his dream." She turned back to her brother. He felt cold to her touch, but she still gripped his hand tightly. She could not believe that her caring, yet somewhat infuriating brother was gone to the world.
Magneto suddenly felt strong emotions that he could not place. "We don't deserve these names yet! These so-called mutant names. Let's renounce these names until we are ready for them." Erik exclaimed.
"When will that be?"
"When we have done our jobs and the world is ready to accept us. Then we can become superheroes!" Erik gave a twisted smile at these words.
Charles's young charges all nodded in agreement, ready to shed their silly names for now.
"We could use a telepath at our school, and the rest of you can come too." Erik turned his piercing gaze to the four mutants standing by the sub.
"I already told ya—that kind of thing just isn't for me," Angel said.
Riptide shook his head no and turned to Azazel.
"I won't help you at your school, but I will transport everyone back to the United States," he said, respectfully.
"I've actually always wanted to be a teacher!" Everyone gaped at Emma Frost, who smiled coldly in response.
"Is that a yes?" Alex asked.
"Moira's welcome too, right?" Sean asked.
Erik grudgingly nodded in agreement, for Charles's sake. Charles! Charles was…gone. Gone for good. It was now Erik and the young mutants' job to carry on for Charles's greatest dream. He turned to Moira and Emma. He would need as much help as possible, even if it was from someone or two that he would normally never align himself with.
Present day, right after the funeral-
Erik, Moira, Raven, Sean, and Alex returned to the mansion after the funeral, entering the large, empty house—except it was not empty, as none other than Emma Frost stood in the foyer, surrounded by luggage.
"I'm moving in! Is this a bad time?" Emma asked, trying her best to appear innocent.
Author's note- So what did you think? Is the premise any good? Is it worth continuing?