Memories

Chapter Thirty-Six

"What do you mean 'he snapped'? No one just 'snaps' like that," Erik growled, glaring at Emma and Hank. Raven tended to agree with Erik.

No pacifist just snaps and commits mass murder. Not Charles.

Not that Erik really minded much that he'd murdered useless humans. No, in fact, he was pleased that Charles had. Charles, in the state he was in, had adopted Erik's ideals. Really, it made him almost smile; but he did want his sweet Charles back.

Raven found this to be very, very terrible. Her big, perfect brother wasn't supposed to be like Erik. He was everything good and perfect in the world, everything ideal and wonderful, and she never wanted him to change into anything like Erik.

Everyone on the team thought this was bad, even Janos and Azazel, who could literally not care less about anything else. But if Charles went bad, Erik would get worse, and no telling what that meant for Janos and Azazel, who'd adopted the horrible lifestyle Shaw had offered due to Riptide's powers and Azazel's appearance. No one tended to accept the guy who causes a natural disaster and the guy with red skin and a tail.

No, you get compared to death itself with a power like that and the Devil looking like that.

"Its difficult to explain," Emma said, rubbing her temple with two fingers. It reminded Erik of when Charles used his powers. Erik rubbed at the ache in his chest.

Since Charles's outburst was mental as much as physical, Hank was in charge of his physical condition while Emma assessed his mental state. Hank had found not much different with his physical state, but it had taken Emma quite a bit of searching and studying and delving into Charles's mind to piece the whole mess that was Charles's mind together.

"Charles's mind once had two distinct parts to it. One was the part of his personality we saw every day. The sweet, good little professor that abhors violent and wants world peace. But the other part of his personality was pushed as far back as the young Charles could push it back and locked away tightly, the key thrown away," Emma explained, trying to use the best metaphor she could think of.

"Why would Charles lock part of himself away?" Erik asked, not getting it. Raven thought she got it and wanted to throw up.

"The part he locked away is similar to you, Erik, but there is a difference. His dark side had no light like you gained," Emma said, confusing Erik even more.

"This part is dark, cold, murderous. It's the darkest part of himself, and it was created by torture and hatred and brutality. The lock was created by a damaged little boy, desperate to stop murderous thoughts in his mind. He's been through horrible, horrible things, Erik. I could barely grasp it all. His mind is so fragmented, the lock broken into millions of pieces, and with it, his psyche," Emma said, shaking her head.

"Was it broken just by the ambush?" Raven asked after a moment of thought.

"No, from what I can tell, the lock was strong. It was already weakened by two other highly stressful times- when he became paralyzed and Erik trying to take the twins. The ambush just finished breaking it."

Erik flinched at the memories that assailed him.

"Is he still... Charles?" Erik asked, swallowing.

Emma shook her head. "No, I don't think so. His personalities have finally mixed, and I can't tell which is the dominate one. He might still be a sweet man, just with a dark side, or he's someone as dangerous and as cut-throat as you, Erik. His dark side has no qualms with killing. His conscience has been thrown off balance. Essentially, he's only ever had the angel on his shoulder; but now that he's gained a devil on his shoulder, I don't know if he'll be able to listen to that angel anymore."

"Can you fix him? Can you lock it away again?" Raven asked, biting her bottom lip.

"I don't think I can. He wouldn't even let me be in his mind that long before forcing me out- and he is powerful, more so than before. If he even can be fixed, he has to fix himself or want me to fix him," Emma answered honestly, still having a headache from the mental war that Charles, or whatever, had waged against her.

Erik stepped toward the metal table, the metal in the room singing to him. As he stood over the table his lover laid on, looking so vulnerable, a small body hiding such a destructive power, the others left them alone. No one wished to see the great Magneto so vulnerable and weak. Erik began thinking of everything that had happened, trying to wrap his mind around all of it.

Even with Charles's lack of control, the group hadn't even had to clean out the bodies of the men Charles had killed in the house. No, he'd had them step outside before killing themselves. Apparently, even the darker Charles cared about stains in his carpets. Or, perhaps he was protecting the children.

Emma had wiped the children's minds of the murders, except for Jean, Scott, and Ororo. The three, they'd all decided, could handle the memory, but the youngest five definitely couldn't. Emma had also put a mental-block on Trask's niece's powers, locking her in some random room in the house until they decided what to do with her. They'd dropped off the rescued mutants at their old homes, giving them money and a number to call if they ever needed help.

It wasn't as if this broken group was in any shape to help anyone anymore.

In fact, they were probably the least capable people imaginable at this point because they couldn't even protect themselves, and they'd just lost their moral compass. They were a ship, lost in a huge storm in the middle of the sea, their ship threatening to be overturned as the waves crashed over them, and their captain was just knocked unconscious; and as much as everyone was uncertain, they decided to put the psychopathic first mate in charge- Erik.

The only other person capable of fulfilling the role was Logan- but he was very clear about not wanting the responsibility- and Emma, who also wasn't in the mood for a leadership position since she was so exhausted from the telepathic strain on her.

Emma didn't see an end to that anytime soon.

Erik ghosted his fingers over Charles's forehead, brushing a brown, soft lock of hair behind his ear when Charles's crystal blue eyes shot open, staring up at Erik's grayish-blue ones with something Erik wasn't used to from Charles.

Lust.