With a bit of reluctance, Charles touched a fingertip to his temple, directing his focus into Erik's mind. The memories were painful. In them, Erik was resigned. Resigned to death-- not quite wishing for it, but caring little for the desperately normal and aimless future ahead of him.

"I thought I'd made a mistake, in trusting in you. I've spent the last ten bloody years wanting you to be a monster. It was easier, believing that. In fact, I did very little besides what was easy, for all those years. I'm not inherently better, Erik. We're both more than capable of making bad choices."