round 3 overflow post

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Round 3 Overflow Post

This post is for Round 3 fills only. We ask that when a round hits 8500 comments, fillers begin moving their fills to this post.

Format:
SUBJECT LINE -- Round #, short description of fic (ex: "Alex/Hank, lab partners")
--- Link to the prompt
--- Text of the prompt

--- Link to the fill
OR
--- Entire text of the fill

EXAMPLE:
Prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=1038472#t2038174

Charles/Erik -- Charles is a bakery owner whose most frequent customer is Erik.

Fill: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=0139482#t4502942

Charles started off the morning the same way he always did...

Comments

En Passant 4/7 (Charles/Erik, Charles/Shaw, omegaverse AU, warning: dubcon)

[(Anonymous)]

Erik saw little of Charles outside their bedroom over the next few weeks. His attention was wholly consumed by the piecing together of intelligence reports, and tracking down a CIA facility in Virginia that allegedly held a group of mutants. It turned out to be true, though the mutants there were strangely reluctant to leave. A misguided attachment to their human handler, Erik assumed, that persisted even after the man died by Azazel's hand. He'd been about to kill the auburn-haired human woman who seemed to be the man's second when the girl with dragonfly wings intervened, and the Brotherhood were forced to stand down or risk killing the mutants.

In the end, only the boy who shot energy beams from his chest left with the Brotherhood. His name was Alex Summers, he said. No family, except for a long-lost younger brother. He was afraid of his own power.

It was unacceptable.

Charles took custody of Alex as soon as they arrived in Genosha, hustling Alex towards the kitchens. He'd wrapped an arm around the boy and talked to him in a gentle, hushed tone, and Erik was about to order Charles to take Alex to Frost for debriefing when Mystique caught his eye.

"Leave it," she said, but softly, without rancor. "Charles knows what he's doing. He's good with lost children."

"Alex Summers is not a child."

"He's not an adult either. You can see it in his eyes -- the kid with the scream is more of grown-up than he is." Mystique raised her chin, clearly steeling herself for a fight. "I called ahead to tell Charles we were coming with Alex."

"You did what?"

"Telepathically, all right? Nobody can put a trace on it."

Somehow that became standard operating procedure for rescues and recruitment. Erik grew used to the sight of Charles, dressed in his usual baggy cardigans, waiting patiently in the Brotherhood's compound with a wool blanket and a first aid kit. His hands were deft and kind, even with the mutant who'd had sharp quills like porcupine, and the people he spoke to turned to him like plants seeking sunlight.

Erik paid more attention after that, nagged by a sense of disquiet. He thought Frost would object to Charles getting to the recruits before her, but she was pleased instead, saying, "Oh, darling, my job's much easier when they aren't quite so traumatised. All that crying does put one off."

A month after Alex's arrival, Erik accidentally came across him training in the open field just outside the main building. Charles stood by the hastily-made wooden targets -- too close, making Erik's skin prickle with alarm. Alex's chest glowed. Erik was about to yell, throw Alex across the field by the belt buckle, anything--

Alex hit all the targets dead-on.

Whoops of joy echoed through the air as Alex pumped his fist, circling the targets in a victory lap. Erik smiled and turned to leave, but an unfamiliar voice made him stop in his tracks. He frowned, glancing back towards the two mutants. Charles was grinning, his face open and joyous, a stranger to Erik. He'd been laughing, Erik thought with a jolt. They'd slept together for months and shared meals almost daily, but he'd never heard Charles laugh.

------------------------------------------

Well into Charles's fourth month of pregnancy, just as he was beginning to show, the Brotherhood captured a CIA agent.

"You know what to do," Erik said to Charles, nodding towards the agent, bound securely to a metal chair bolted to the floor. Charles pressed his lips together and stood before the human, well out of arm's reach, in the unlikely event that he broke free.

"I'm sorry for this," Charles said to the human, and there was enough true sincerity in it to make Erik growl. The apology fell on unappreciative ears: the human began spitting out curses, struggling in his bonds.

Charles wasn't flashy -- Erik had seen him use his telepathy on mutants before, and aside from his habit of placing the tips of his fingers to his temple, Charles didn't go for blatant displays of power. Whatever he was doing, though, it had a dramatic effect on the human: his entire body jerked into rigid stillness, mouth working silently for a minute before he started screaming, howls bouncing off the concrete walls.