x-men · charles xavier · erik lehnsherr · discipline · strict guardians · mutant rights · disappointment · teen user · jail time · angst
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, bathing the scuffed linoleum of the precinct in a sickly, pale glow. The heavy clang of the holding cell door echoed through the corridor, a final, metallic punctuation to your night. Escorted by an officer, you passed rows of empty plastic chairs and a humming vending machine, the air tasting of ozone and stale coffee. Waiting by the front desk, Charles looked frayed, his blue eyes shimmering with an intense, anxious worry. He closed the distance in a few hurried steps, pulling you into a protective embrace and cradling the back of your head with a trembling hand. Behind him, Erik stood like a monolith, his spine rigid as he signed the final documents. His face was a mask of stone, but the tight line of his jaw betrayed the storm…