Whatever and Ever, Amen >> Young!Charles Xavier (Professor X) X Mutant!Reader

Title: Whatever and Ever, Amen


Paring: Young!Charles Xavier (Professor X) X Mutant!Reader


Warnings: This Depressed!Charles story contains mature themes because of the song, and what happens in the movie. Don't read if you're triggered by swear words, drug themes and/or depression.


Spoilers: Maybe, for X-Men: Days of Future Past. Read at own risk if you haven't seen the movie!


Author's Note: gender of reader not specified 


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Do you not hear me anymore
I know it's not your thing
To care
I know it's cool to be so bored
But it sucks me in when you're aloof
It sucks me in, it sucks it works
I guess it's cool to be alone


It's been years since you've gotten a word in with  Charles that wasn't made to make you feel like you're another pair of hands and feet to wait on him. The war in Vietnam had taken all of those eligible young students who could work in the line of fire. You knew as soon as their telegrams came, there was no return for them. Hank McCoy, or, Beast, as they called him now, wasn't conscripted, for some reason, and neither you. Ever since your Mother and Father found out you could move natural materials without a thought, they'd not wanted you to come home; afraid of you. And now, you were stuck in a place where they neither wanted nor needed you for anything about you but because you could help keep the Professor standing on two feet.


Will you never rest
Fighting the battle of who
Could care less
Every day you wake up late
Sometimes I wish I was
That way


But that's the irony. If he stood, he thought soap bubbles of thoughts, drank until his memories of a world where he taught young mutants to love themselves and grow into their differences were blurs, like a hand wiping over a foggy window after a shower. If he sat, he couldn't be 'normal' - something he detested, before, when Erik and Raven were around. But also, he could hear it all, all the pain and suffering, all the voices in his head he was gifted to hear, but couldn't bear the burden of. 


As much as it hurt Charles, though, you and Hank were left in pieces that you couldn't afford to pick up. You wanted to be numb, but you couldn't let that overcome you. You had to be strong. For Charles, for Hank. For students who might return to see what you three had done to the place. For yourself. 


And you think rockford files
Is cool
But there are some things
That you would change


If it were up to you


So think about your masterpiece


Watch the rockford files and


Call to see if paul can score
Some weed


Sometimes Charles would call you to his room, and just have you sit there and watch him. It's a strange request, but it's one you understand. He can't stand being alone. You can't imagine how hard it would be to have it all - a team of skilled people you trust, a friend you believe in, legs, a war you can see a way around - all lost. Gone in a matter of minutes, replaced with a numbness that he craves. You just can't imagine it. 


While sitting in silence one time, you can't help but wonder, if Charles could go back in time, that he'd change what happened on the beach in Cuba. And if that's what Charles is seeing every time he closes his eyes, his dosage wanes, his thoughts stray from the safe path he's made that won't trigger the bursts of anger and unpredictability that follow drinking to forget.


Will you never rest
Fighting the battle
Of who could care less
Unearned unhappiness
That's alright I guess


Hank pretends not to see. You can't help it but see too much. Some nights, when Charles is tucked in his sheets, eyes wide and mind buzzing not with other voices but his own, you too stay awake, unable to sleep when he cannot. You find you can't eat when he cannot. Move when he cannot. 


It leads to Hank finding you at the bottom of the staircase, wound up in a cocoon of earth and dirt your mutation summoned from the foundations under the house. You're unable to apologize, because now Hank has two adults to take care of, and he can't even take care of himself sometimes. 


But you get better. And he gets better. 


But Charles doesn't.


I've got this great idea


Why don't we pitch into the


Franklin f**king mint


Fine pewter portraits of


General apathy and major boredom singing. . .


Whatever and ever amen.


There's a knock at the door. You beat Hank, rushing to the front to see who it could be, coming to the old mansion. Loan Sharks? Politicians? Real Estate investors? 


But it isn't any of those. He's tall, and scruffy looking, like he's drunk and slept as much  as Charles has lately, except, he's chosen that fate, not been wrought with night terrors until he can't bear it anymore. And suddenly, he's pushed past you and into the house, your mutation doing nothing to hold him back. 


Hank's changed into who he's supposed to be; Beast is all over the man, and they're fighting, they're punching and rolling and they're -


"Hank, _______, what's going on here?"


They continue to fight, speaking words that don't matter, are as useful as empty air. 


"...Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank!" 


Oh well maybe not try


Again
This should cheer you up
For sure
See I've got your old i.d.
And you're all dressed up like
The cure


His name is Logan, you hear, and he's from the future. And Charles' future self has a mission for them all. You can't help but wonder, what's going to happen from here? Will he get better? Worse? Who will fall in the line of duty, both overseas or at home? They've made plans to leave now, to find a young mutant who lives life faster than anyone, a kid who can help break out the one person Charles doesn't much want to see. Who made his life a little hell. 


But it's still a way to get him out of the house. To breathe life back into his eyes, to wring the apathy from his voice. 


Will you never rest
Fighting the battle
Of who could care less
Unearned unhappiness
You're my hero I confess


In the car, Charles puts his hand down. He thought it was his leg, but it isn't. Its your knee, and he's stroking the skin slowly. Shocked, the both of you turn to each other, not worried about the contact. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling every bump in the road with him. It's been a while since he's looked awake when he is, and now, you can see the greatness returning to Charles Xavier. 


Maybe something good could come from the future-man intercepting your lives.



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