InsaneJournal

Who: Charles Xavier and Kurt Marko.
What: Charles deals with his fear.
Where: The X-Mansion study.
When: Evening.
Rating: R for violence and language and death of an NPC.
Status: Complete. Narrative.

Charles sighed, dropping down onto the sofa and closing his eyes. He was tired, in a way that reached far deeper than the physical. Things of late had been rather more stressful than usual and he was having a hard time dealing with it all. The problem with so many people being forced to confront the ghosts of their pasts or their nightmares or whatever was currently plaguing the city, beyond the obvious of course, was that fear was loud and forceful and not remotely subtle. People's minds practically screamed with the emotion, too much to even hope he would be able to block it all out.

There was just so much, coming at him from so many angles, and Charles had all but stopped trying to keep it out. Instead he focused on grounding himself in the comfort of familiar minds. Annie mostly. He would have turned to Raven as well, but the shrill notes of fear and helplessness in his sister's mind were often too much. And the guilt they brought with them, the regret that he hadn't somehow done more to protect her, was overwhelming.

Which brought him to the other issue weighing on him. Jaenelle was one of the most recent group of people sent back to their homes. His feelings for her had been quite strong, though he had known they could not be together. As much as they cared for one another, and they had done so, Jaenelle was born to be with Daemon. He could feel it, even though the Hayllian wasn't there. Anything else would not, and indeed could not, last. If Daemon came to the city, Jaenelle would be with him. It was a fact, absolute and unchangeable, and neither of them wanted to risk the hurt that would surely come with that. Still, he found himself wondering at what might have been. Jaenelle understood him on a level most couldn't.

The only person more deeply entangled in his mind than she had been was Annie, and that was wholly different. She was like a daughter to him in some ways, and a sister in others. As much as he sometimes wished they had met when she was the age she was now, so he could think of her as simply a woman, he had bonded with her when she was still young. Though his life might have been easier if he could have had some sort of relationship with her, it would never work. In his mind she was still the young girl he had met by Sally's tank.

But he couldn't think of those things now. There were too many things going on right now that were far more serious than his own confusion. Of everything that had happened lately as a result of this new strangeness, he was most concerned about Raven. He had never realised just how bad things had been between her and Cain when they were younger, and he couldn't help but wonder if that was the real reason she had made him promise that he would keep out of her head. The thought didn't sit well with him. Raven was his sister and it was his obligation as her brother to protect her. If he had known that Cain was hurting her, he could have put it to a stop. For all that he had kept his powers in check when it came to himself, he would have used them to keep Raven safe. Knowing that she had been hurt and he hadn't even known, that she had made sure he didn't know, made him feel so terribly useless. But the fact was he had never seen Cain as a real threat. The boy was a bully, yes, and he was prone to anger and violence, but he hadn't been dangerous.

Charles has always been far more concerned with his step-father. Kurt Marko was a frightening man. It wasn't just the physical threat he presented, but the fact that he had the power to destroy him without even laying a hand on him. Charles could remember all the times Kurt had threatened to have him committed, to have him sent back to the doctors who had misunderstood him so horribly. Charles had never been stupid, far from it. He'd known, even as a young man, that going back to the mental hospital could only end one way. And worse than that, it would mean leaving Raven alone in that house. Even if his telepathic suggestions would have held in his absence, and he doubted they would have, she would have been alone with Kurt and Cain and their mother who was usually too drunk to notice anything was wrong.

So he had kept his mouth shut, put up with the abuse, and waited for the day when he could escape from it. If he could have, he never would have returned to the house in Westchester. It was a constant reminder of his childhood and the man who had kept him in a state of terror for years. Just thinking about it now made him uncomfortable. He preferred to keep the past where it belonged, and Raven's encounter with Cain had brought it all rushing back. Sighing, he drained half his glass of scotch in one go and closed his eyes, glad to be alone. He didn't particularly relish anyone seeing him like this.

"Hello, son."

Charles suddenly found it hard to breathe. Just the sound of that voice was enough to set his pulse racing with panic. His hand clenched around his glass so tightly he was surprised it didn't break, and he was afraid to open his eyes. He had imagined it. Of course he had. There was no way. Absolutely no way. That voice belonged in the past. The man it belonged wasn't a part of his life any more. He was dead and buried, a fact for which Charles was grateful every day. He wasn't here. He couldn't be. But even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true. Cain had showed up, after all. And plenty of people who should have been dead came to the city. And, most damning of all, Charles could feel his presence as surely as he could have anyone else.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he opened his eyes and stared at a man who should have been dead. He felt like a rabbit in headlights, utterly trapped and with no idea how to react. He'd never been particularly assertive, and Kurt Marko's mere presence left him feeling like a terrified child again. Like he was still thirteen and petrified of doing the slightest thing to upset his stepfather. He knew he needed to say something, but it was all he could do just to breathe. He stared, wide-eyed, until Kurt grew impatient. He sneered and his voice was like a whipcrack, startling Charles.

"Well?" he demanded. "Don't just sit there like a mute idiot! Say something." But he couldn't. He honestly couldn't. Kurt grew more impatient the longer Charles was silent, stepping closer with an intimidating expression on his face. "Damn it, boy! I'm your father. Answer when I talk to you!"

"You're..." Charles was embarrassed at how pathetic he sounded as he set down his glass and scrambled to his feet, back ramrod straight and eyes wide as he continued to stare at Kurt. He stopped, swallowing thickly. "You're not my father." The words were quiet, too quiet, but Kurt's glare was enough to make him regret them.

"What did you say to me?"

"I said," Charles took a deep breath and forced himself to continue, "that you are not my father. My father was Brian Xavier. Marrying my mother doesn't make you my father, and it certainly doesn't mean you can control me. I am not afraid of you." Except he knew the last part wasn't true. He was terrified of this man.

Even though he knew it was coming, the punch nearly knocked him down. As it was, he barely caught himself against the end table, wincing as he knocked over a lamp and it fell to the floor with a crash. His jaw was throbbing and he tasted blood, but he forced himself not to think about it. He stumbled backwards, just trying to put some distance between himself and Kurt. This wasn't happening. It wasn't happening. It was just a horrible nightmare. Except it wasn't. It was real. And he could try to tell himself it wasn't, could pretend it was some twisted dream, but it wouldn't change the reality of the situation. And the reality was that his step-father was here, angry and in one of his more violent moods, and Charles honestly didn't know if he'd be able to stop him. He'd spent so long terrified of this man that, though he logically knew he was a grown man himself and more than powerful enough to make him leave if he focused, he couldn't make himself take action.

"Don't talk back to me like that, boy!" Kurt shouted. Charles tried to step back further, to put more distance between them, and the older man grabbed his arm in a bruising grip. "Don't you dare walk away from me!" He backhanded him hard, the force of the hit making his ears ring. Charles couldn't do anything but beg him to stop as Kurt kept hitting him. His stepfather was no longer holding him in place, so he fell to the floor with the force of one of the hits, dazed and gasping. Kurt aimed a vicious kick to his ribs and Charles cried out in pain, curling in on himself to try and shield his body from any more hits. It hurt to even breathe and he was pretty sure he was bleeding. He was equally sure his nose was broken. And then it stopped.

Charles blinked and realised he had frozen Kurt in place. He knew he couldn't hold it for very long, so he dragged himself to his feet with a pained groan and stumbled over to his desk. Running away wouldn't do any good. He would never make it far like this and Kurt would just catch up with him. He didn't want to drag anyone else into this or have the students see him like this. He yanked open one of the drawers and grabbed the gun River had given him just as his hold on Kurt faltered. He didn't intend to actually use it. He just wanted Kurt to leave.

"What the fuck did you do to me, you goddamn freak?" Kurt swore, advancing on him. "I ought to send you back to those doctors. Let them deal with you. Or just kill you now. World would be better for it." He stopped as Charles pointed the gun at him, laughing. It was a harsh, mocking sound and Charles was surprised he didn't drop the gun. "And what are you going to do with that, boy?"

"Get out," Charles rasped, his throat dry as his forced himself to stand his ground. His hand shook slightly, but he held the gun as steady as he could and kept it trained on his stepfather. He couldn't back down. This wasn't just about him any more. He had students who relied on him for a safe place to live and to learn and he couldn't allow his stepfather to compromise that. "I mean it. Get the hell out and don't come back. Or I swear, I will use this."

Kurt just kept laughing as he came closer. "Bullshit," he spat. "You don't have the guts. Now put that down before I do kill you. Don't think for a second I won't snap your neck right here. And then I'll find that bitch sister of yours and-"

Charles didn't even realise he'd pulled the trigger until he heard the crack of the gun going off. Again and again. He kept going until there were no more bullets and Kurt's body was motionless on the floor. He was pretty sure that if he could have, he would have reloaded and done it again. For all the man scared him, when it came right down to it, he wasn't going to let him be a threat to Raven or anyone else here. He knew without a doubt that Kurt would have hurt the people who lived in his home, and he couldn't let that happen. Still, the weight of what he'd just done hit him like a brick and the gun fell from nerveless fingers as he collapsed to the floor and just stared at his stepfather's body.