This letter isn't meant to comfort you.
Instead, it is meant to make you understand exactly how I felt the moment you walked into my room at the hospital.
I hated you.
You just walked in and I felt so much hate towards you because you made me fall in love with you.
And when you spoke, I hated you even more because I could never get tired of listening to the sound of your voice.
Then you saw your chess piece and I saw the real you; unguarded and up close. The look on your face was exactly the same as your mother's when she gave me those chess pieces; happy.
Then...I stopped hating you right there and then because you showed me something I thought I could never have intimately and I wanted that so bad that if I had died then, I would have been content to have just felt a glimpse of what you felt.
And then, you became my friend and I have never looked forward to the next day like I had when you called me that.
I was ready to die; that's how you made me feel. Every day spent with you was like a preparation for me to die, because you only saw me under all of this cancer and you still wanted me.
You're such a fool, Erik. For falling in love with me, you are a fool indeed! I hate you for giving me everything and more! I hate you for breaking all my walls down and helping me up.
Fuck you, Erik, I bloody hate you! Because i love you so much, I am now afraid to die and want all of you because i can never have enough of you...
You hurt me, you know and I hurt you. I'm not sorry though, I never will be.
So you better cry for me until you feel like dying and i give you my word you'll feel much better after you bury me.
I love you too.
"I love you...Charles," Erik whispered, folding the letter and pocketing it.
It was the perfect letter, arriving at the right moment when Erik thought he was about to lose his sanity.
Losing Charles to the cancer had hit everyone hard, especially Jean who had gone quiet from the very moment she sensed Charles’ silence from her mind. Charles absence was noticeable in every way possible and it was hard for Erik to cope but he had to hold on, for the children.
With the help of Raven and the rest of the adults, Charles’ funeral was arranged within the week and he was buried in the backyard of the mansion, where everyone gathered to pay their respects and talk about how great he was.
Erik never spoke at the funeral. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. But he did as Charles’ letter had advised and he cried, hard.
There wasn’t a dry eye that day, not a single one.
“Hello, Peter and Wanda. My name is Erik Lehnsherr and I’m good friend of Charles Xavier,” Erik said, rolling the ring around his finger which he had received from the letter he got from Charles two days after his funeral.
He was at the hospital as instructed by Charles’ third letter that came from doctor Moira a week after Charles’ funeral. The letter was about the two children in front of Erik and it stated that Charles had given up his two marrow donors to the children because they deserved a chance in life. They were abandoned by their parents four months ago and Charles had spent time with them when Erik was back at the mansion, taking care of everyone.
Erik had seen the two kids at Charles’ funeral with doctor Moira but he never got a chance to speak to them. So now here he was, honouring Charles’ request to adopt them and take them back to the mansion.
Peter was very shy, hiding behind his twin sister who was looking at Erik with wide eyes. They were only nine and Erik couldn’t help but fall in love with them.
It took a little while for them to warm up to him and when they arrived at the mansion, a welcome party was thrown for them. Wanda was quick to make friends but Peter hid behind Erik most of the time. It was Jean who brought him out of his shell and Erik was proud of her for doing so.
And so the weeks turned into months and Charles was missed dearly by everyone. But they were getting better each day and those who used to cry at night were recovering quite well.
At first, Erik never thought he would make it through each day without falling apart, but every day he woke up in Charles’ bed and he would read his letter. That’s what kept him from falling apart, that’s what gave him strength.
And the one thing Erik was grateful for were the chess pieces his mother had given to Charles all those years ago. Because of that, Erik had a better life than before.
He would visit Charles’ grave every morning with Jean who was now coming back to her old self, to tend to the flowers, telling him about their plans for the day and how much they missed him.
And every morning spent at Charles’ grave, Erik would always remember Charles’ words to him the night they played chess for the last time just after Charles had lost his ability to walk.
“Do you know what the worst thing about my cancer is?” he had asked, his blue eyes glimmering brightly under the dim light. Erik looked into them, waiting for an answer.
“It’s leaving you. To me, that is the worst and hardest thing for me to bear; leaving you and the children. Going someplace which people describe as perfect and peaceful. To me, that sounds awful, because I find my time here on earth, with you and the children, much more peaceful and perfect.” And he made his move on the chess board, winning the game.
Erik would never forget that night because that was the night he knew that he could never stop loving Charles no matter what.
“Do you know what the worst thing is about you leaving is?” the German questioned one morning as he cleaned around the professor’s grave and added a new set of flowers, while Jean went to go fetch a watering can.
“It’s accepting that you’re gone.”