I don't own 'em. Marvel does. This is just for fun. I'm a civil servant. Suing me would be a dumb waste of time and money. Ect...

The wind stung where it brushed his face. Charles Xavier barely noticed. He was beyond feeling the chill of this early April morning, beyond even caring about it. Today, the only thing that mattered was a pounding ache in his chest as he read the bronze plaque at his feet.

Gabrielle had chosen the inscription. She preferred it to the usual religious phrase, considering Charles was, nominally at least, a Christian while she was Jewish. David himself had only been to temple a handful of times anyway. Besides, those words summed up the boy's entire life.

Charles said nothing. He allowed Gaby to arrange the entire memorial for their son without speaking a word. What could he say? More importantly, what right did he have to say anything?

He didn't even know the boy existed until David was nineteen. By then, David had so very many problems. Other matters required Charles'attention. Most of his focus was already firmly invested in the X-Men and New Mutants. Magneto was beginning to abandon his quest for violence. The Beyonder was approaching. And Charles believed himself to be dying. There was far too much to arrange before he did. Something had to give, and that turned out to be David. Charles spent a few days with him on Muir Isle, then left the boy in Moria's care with the promise of a trip to the Xavier estate that summer. David was so ecstatic he couldn't stop smiling.

But that vacation never came. Magneto was arrested and put on trial. Charles condition deteriorated until everyday brought almost unending agony. Lilandra came for him, promising a full recovery after a visit to Corsair's medical bay. That "quick fix" lasted for months as he and the Starjammers fled from Deathbird's spies. He returned home to find David under the dominion of the Shadow King. Defeating that monster cost Charles his son once more as David slipped into another vegative state.

If only the boy had stayed that way. The pain of knowing David lay unresponsive in a hospital was nothing compared to the pain of telling Gabrielle that their son was gone, consumed by his own powers. The tears in her eyes would be the last thing Charles remembered this side of the grave.

Gaby refused to believe him then. After all, they had no body, no blood, no real proof David was dead. There was just Bishop's disjointed account of the boy vanishing into the time paradox he'd created. And Gaby couldn't accept that as a fact. No, David had simply disappeared, she argued. He was mising. One day, when he was healed, he might return. Charles let the matter drop there, secretly praying she might be right.

Time moved on as it always does, each day weighing more heavily upon him than the one before it. Rogue and Bobby left on an unscheduled road-trip as Gambit languished in a coma. Sabertooth appeared to be recovering at first, only to turn, nearly killing Psylocke. Logan grew increasingly more feral. The FOH nominated it's leader for president. Moria became the first non-mutant victim of Legacy. Charles reacted to these items as expected, but it was just an automatic response. It no longer mattered if humans and mutants co-existed. The war might end, but Charles would be alone.

"Why should a god be alone," a small voice whispered. "You should be worshiped. Followed. Feared. Obeyed."

Charles ignored it at first. Powers such as his were naturally coupled with tremendous temptation. He was accustomed to disregarding it.

The voice grew louder.

Then the black outs began. Charles found that hours passed by unnoticed as he sat alone in his study. He was just drifting off to sleep, he told himself. A catnap was nothing to worry about. Besides, a new threat appeared, the mysterious Onslaught. That was a far more pressing concern than unexpected napping.

Clear memories ended there. From what little he could recal and what his students had told him, Charles knew he'd suffered some sort of emotional breakdown and had become Onslaught. He almost suceeded in killing, not only the X-Men, but most of Mantattan as well. Coming back to himself, he found his powers were gone. It should have been a blessing, a chance to start a new life, a normal life.

It wasn't.

Valerie Cooper placed him in protective custody only hours after the last fire had been contained. The government turned him over to that creature Bastion. For awhile, Charles thought he might truly go mad. Bastion taunted him daily. And the worst part of his incarceration was the the dreams -- of David. His son needed him, was crying out to his father for help. Charles tried to reach out and comfort the boy, even if he couldn't stop the pain. He always woke up alone in his cell, his face wet with tears.

Eventually, Charles was freed and the X-Men came to take him home. They tried to rebuild their lives. But so much had changed. Gambit's mysterious past had been revealed, and the revelation nearly cost Remy his life. The original X-Men had relocated to Alaska during the Professor's absence. Kitty, Kurt and Peter were back at the mansion once more, but the distance between the youngest two members of the trio was painfully obvious. And all his students watched Charles just a bit too closely. He pretended he didn't notice them flinching whenever he became visibly frustrated. Still, it hurt to see how terribly he'd frightened them, something he'd never intended to do. They were his children. The only ones he'd ever have.

Magneto pushed the United Nations into granting him a mutant state, the island of Genosha. Charles hoped Magnus would prove him wrong and sucessfully achieve peace for their people at last. The news reports coming from that tiny nation didn't give him much reason for that hope. Widespread panic, looting, faction fighting faction, this followed in Magneto's wake. When Gabrielle had asked Charles to join her for lunch two weeks ago, he'd actually thought they'd discuss this problem. Maybe together they could come up with some way to help their mutual friend.

But Charles was wrong. Gaby hadn't come to discuss Magnus. She wanted to talk about David.

"It's been over a year," she'd said. "I've finally accepted that he isn't coming back."

The wine Charles had ordered with his meal tasted sour. He swallowed hard, forcing it past the knot in his throat. Gaby didn't seem to notice.

"I know we can't actually bury him, " she continued, toying with her salad. "But I have to do something."

"A memorial," Charles answered softly.

"Yes." Gaby placed both her hands on top of his. "It's time Charles. Let him go,"

So Charles let her plan everything. She hadn't felt comfortable placing the marker in the Xavier family plot. David's final escapade over the Negev, an Israeli desert, left Israel out as an option. She chose Muir Isle instead, a place of significance to both Charles and Gaby. A placewhere, for far too brief a time, David had been happy.

It was such a small marker really, no larger than a shoe box. Yet it held Charles tranfixed. His mind refused to focus on anything but the way the weak spring sunlight glinted off the raised letters. He barley remembered Gaby sobbing as she walked away. Moria's repeated requests for him to come in out of the cold were fainter still. All Charles could think of was that his son was dead, finally, truly dead. That pain swallowed everything else.

A stone floated into his line of vision, gracefully landing atop the marker. He felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder. Someone had placed a hand there and was squeezing lightly.

"Charles, my friend. You cannot die with him. Believe me. I know."

Charles turned towards the speaker. Startlingly blue eyes met his own. The most unexpected expression was in those eyes. Sympathy. Magnus glanced down and the brake on the wheelchair unlocked.

"Let's go inside," he said.

Mutely, Charles nodded.

End.