Heart
For a telepath he could be pretty clueless.
Everyone who knew of his mutation assumed he could just easily pluck the answers from everyone's minds. And he could. He certainly was strong enough to.
It was ironic, really. They demanded he stay out of their heads then questioned why he faltered. Why he didn't know what they wanted. Why he didn't know what they were thinking.
What were they thinking? When they left him lying there in the hot sand. When his sister abandoned him. When his dear friend walked away. He was useless to him. A broken object to be discarded at the earliest convenience. He was still wearing his helmet when he left.
He hadn't known him for long. It should have hurt more when his sister left. After all it was his own fault. He pushed her to be normal, to conform to something neither of them ever really could. He understood her leaving. He would have left too had the roles been reversed.
He would have left with him. God forgive him but he would have left with him. If his legs had worked and his heart had been beating he would have left with him. But instead he laid there, with more than his spine shattered, and watched them disappear forever.
Why did it hurt so badly? He hadn't known him that long, really. Hadn't been blessed and cursed with his presence long enough to miss him this badly. It shouldn't hurt that the other side of his grandfather's chess board was empty. But it did.
Because against all logic and sanity he had fallen in love with him. It was like standing on a suspension bridge in a hurricane. The only certainty was it would end quickly.
Now that he was gone he wished he had said something. Maybe he would have called him awful names and been disgusted with him. That would have made it easier to bury this absurd hope that he would have reciprocated, and stayed. No, even if he hadn't returned his sentiments he would never do something so common. Chastising him for going against society's expectations is one thing he would never do.
Deflect a bullet into his spine and abandon him, yes. Stoop to the level of the bigoted, brainless masses, no.
Charles wondered if love would have been enough to keep them with him. If he had told his sister he loved her, if he had accepted her exactly as she was. If he had told Erik…
There are no true second chances in life.
For a telepath he could be pretty clueless. But the house was empty and he had a second bottle of whiskey waiting to be opened. And plenty of time to drink.