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Title: Of Cries and Nightmares 
Fandom: That's a given
Pairing: Xavier/Magneto
Diclaimer: They don't belong to me, damn the fates. All characters 
are the property of Marvel INC. NO money is being made, just lots of 
smut.



This is a sequel of sorts to Jane of Shadows fic, Making Sense of It. 
If You haven't read it, look for it on 
http://www.slashcity.org/~xmenslash/home.html


Remember, feedback is needed, wanted, and definitely encouraged. TELL 
ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!!!




        What can I say to you?
        Anything? Everything? What would it take to help you to 
understand me? To truly look beyond the Professor, and understand the 
man? I used to think I had everything under control, that I could 
have my dream and my love at the same time. I told myself that the 
two were not mutually exclusive.
        I was always one for lying to myself.
        Now I'm sitting here, and Erik is long gone. We fought, you 
know. We always do after passion is sated and we find ourselves 
standing on opposite sides of the battle again. But this time the 
fight was over this, over us. I told him to leave, that we couldn't 
do this anymore, that I wasn't willing to lie to you, any of you, 
anymore.
        I wonder if he will ever return.
        I know what you think of me. It is one of the benefits of 
being a telepath, that knowledge of exactly what others are thinking 
and feeling. I know you are trying to find an explanation, a reason 
as to why I would do something like this. You are wondering how long 
it has been going on, how long he has been sneaking into this house 
to sleep with me. How long I have been lying to you all. I won't lie 
this time. It has been going on longer than it should.  
        You knew we met in Haifa. That is in the files, working at 
the hospital together. There is so very much that it doesn't read, 
about our being lovers, about the nights we spent in each others 
arms. When we broke with each other, I thought it would be forever. 
        So many things happened after that. I made a mistake with 
Gabrielle, one that would come back to haunt me with my son. You 
don't know what happened, but I can tell you. I left because she 
stopped needing me. Strange, isn't it? Or maybe not so strange if you 
really knew me. And that is something that I can say with absolute 
certainty that none of you do. Once she was on her feet I didn't have 
a reason to stay with her anymore, nor did I want to. So I left, 
without a backward glance. 
        I can feel you now, sitting outside, trying to find the 
strength to deal with this latest twist of fate. I would never have 
had you find out about us the way you did. In fact, I would never 
have had you find out about us at all, because I knew that if you did 
it would change how you feel about me, how you see me, and too many 
things have changed already. You don't want to admit it, but you hate 
me. Not much, but just enough to make you want to demand answers, 
demand what I thought I was doing, and to strike out if those answers 
aren't good enough for you.
        The sad thing is, I don't know why I do it myself.
        It has nothing to do with my mother and stepfather, that much 
I can say with almost complete certainty. The relationship they had 
was not like the one I share with Erik. There is no violence between 
us, he has never lifted a hand to me, nor I to him. But I can concede 
the point. While he has never truly hurt me, he has hurt you. And now 
so have I.
        I know his crimes, perhaps better than anyone. I have tracked 
his rage, felt it, breathed it when he unleashed it upon the world. I 
trained you to deal with him, to finish what I started but fate took 
away my ability to do for myself. I had a mild heart attack the first 
time I sent you to fight him, did you know that? Nothing serious, 
just enough to worry me. I don't know if any of you knew, perhaps 
Hank if anyone. I was terrified that he would hurt you, that you 
would hurt him, and I could see no way around it.
        I did what I had to do. For years I gave you the harsh truth 
about Magnus, made him into the monster that I feared he would become 
if he went unchecked. I never wanted you to see him as a person, 
because that would make him harder to face. I never wanted you to 
know how I felt about him, because then you would be hampered. How 
could you kill the man your teacher loved?
        Then he changed, and I was dying. Despite everything that 
happened, I believed him to be an honorable man, one who would do as 
he promised. I could think of no one else to fill my position with 
the New Mutants after I died. But once again fate changed her mind, 
and I was alive, picking up the pieces that he left behind.
        That is when it started again. I spoke to him, telling you 
all that I had business to take care of, and in a way I did. We 
argued, screaming at each other, throwing past indiscretions at each 
other like bullets.  I still don't know how it happened. One moment 
we were arguing, the next we were holding each other like we would 
never let go.
        And God help me, I didn't want to.
        I left when it was over, without saying a word. And I knew he 
didn't expect me to. I came home with my sin buried under layers of 
denial, telling myself it meant nothing, was nothing.
        And then it happened again.     
        There was no rhyme or reason to it. I would feel him 
approaching, and tell myself that this would be the time, I would 
turn him away, tell him that I couldn't, that I wouldn't. But like I 
said, I was always one for lying to myself.
        Six years, seven months, and twenty days is how long I've 
been lying to you, hiding from you, and I cant do it anymore. After 
Logan, I told myself that it was over, that my secret , my shame, was 
as dead as his mind was. Then came his return, and I told myself the 
same lie, that it had to end, that I would end it, but I didn't. I 
was afraid to.
        As you said, he is the only one who has stayed with me.
        Now he's gone, and I'm trying to find the courage to speak 
with you, to tell you all of this instead of staring at my bed, the 
sheet damp and smelling of us. Despite all my powers, I doubt you 
will believe me, not after Onslaught, not after everything I've 
already kept from you.
        Because I was afraid.
        Afraid that you wouldn't understand, that the man I was 
wasn't the man you believed me to be. Because I couldn't loose you 
the way I had lost so many others.
        So where does that leave us now? We have to talk, and we 
will, once this pain in my heart goes away.




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