The Sun Going Out

Ashes covered the ground as if thousands of urns had been broken in the sky.

Innocence falling down like bits of phantom skeleton touches, soft and gentle in their touches even as they overwhelmed the world in dead gray.

Around, ahead, under, people were screaming, people were silent, people were crying and shaking and reaching and the sun was shining brightly in spurts through a vengeful sky as though waving good-bye. Farewell, I'm sorry, I can't save you.

Erik stood in the middle of it, in the middle of the street, at the center of the slowly dying world, clothed in his blue and yellow and useless, staring at the sun and the sky and the life that was finally falling, years after he dreamed, expected, prayed. Sirens wailed in the distance, sirens wailed in his ears -- they're coming, they're coming, hide, we can't save you.

They were too late.

He closed his eyes.

They are too late.

Time did not does not exist anymore.

A hand fell on his shoulder -- calm, slow, knowing. He felt the struggling of metal -- close metal, far metal, the incoming approach of uncertain end. His eyes opened. Charles stood beside him, with him, just as calm, just as knowing.

Beyond him, beyond them, standing confused and fearing and trusting, the children. Children. They were nothing more, he knew and knows, but they were waiting now. As ashes fell on top of them, as people cried and ignored them, as the Earth trembled beneath their feet and the sky shook and quivered from such pointless rage, they waited.

His children.

Erik turned, then, away from the sun, away from burning, winding his arm around telepath's shoulders, pulling him close, pulling him forward, the smallest hint of a kiss against his temple -- brother -- without need. They joined their children.

Charles stepped away just enough to wrap the freshly-blue Raven to his chest, to pull Hank in as well, though the Beast did not fear.

Sean went to Erik without hesitation, burrowing close, blocking out the sounds of the terror consuming the streets. Erik held him firmly, but not tightly, comforting but not protecting.

He looked at Alex, then -- heard Charles murmuring in the background, heard him shift -- both staring at Alex now. Alex, gone gray from the ashes where he was normally golden, just a foot away from them. His chest-plate had gone from shining to dull, but his eyes were just as sharp, and he stared right back.

"I think we'll survive," he said. "I think... I think we can survive."

The bombs were coming -- the missiles, the fire, the death. The sky rained with the end that had already come to so many others. Mothers were yelling for their children and children were crying for their mothers. In mere minutes, the city will crumble and break and burn and disappear. And Erik tilted his head, and Sean looked up, and Raven stepped back from her brother with a stumble, and Hank steadied her, and Charles hummed under his breath.

"I think we'll be just fine," Charles acknowledged over the screams, confident, nodding.

"Yes," Erik agreed, softly. Felt Sean's wet and warm and peaceful tears on his neck.

Reached out a death-dusted hand. Alex took it, was pulled in, and Erik held him and held Sean, and Charles and Raven and Hank moved in closer. They all held each other and didn't at the same time.

A breath of intense heat enveloped the streets.

A strong burst of light and a distinct, soothing wail of metal that soothed Erik's bones.

'Oh, my friend,' Charles whispered, so calm, and he leaned into him. Them.

They were all so calm.

The screams faded away to quiet. The sirens cut off.

Charles reached out and touched him, and Raven leaned into Alex.

The ashes fell in waves and the buildings began to shake.

Erik held them closer, closed his eyes,

and tastes.