[AU: In which you and Xavier survive the Camp Redwood Massacre, Margaret Booth goes down for her crimes and Brooke never took the fall.]

Xavier loved to look at himself. It wasn't uncommon to find him gazing into the mirror, eyes trailing over every beautiful contour of his face with a smile. You supposed his desire to be a moviestar came from that- for the world to see his face, to know his name.

Then camp redwood happened. Sure, it was horrible...but the worst of it? Xavier's beautiful face was ruined.

Burns. Horrible, Grotesque, career-ruining burns that littered his once so beautiful face. Xavier couldn't bare to look at himself. His own reflection in the mirrors that once adorned his room caused droplets of sorrow to slip from his icy blue eyes. He hated it. Hated what Mr Jingles had done. Even if he was innocent before, he sure as hell wasn't innocent now.

Every time Xavier caught a glimpse of himself, he'd close his eyes, pray it was all just a nightmare. But it never was. When they reopened, he'd be met by the sight of his partner's face, their eyes drinking in every boil and bump of his face. Then he would break down.

Xavier thought he was ready- thought he'd finally have the guts to put mirrors back up around he and his partner's home. But, as soon as her saw himself, he dropped the mirror in his hands, stepping back with horror and curling up. He was a frail, traumatised husk of his former self. Heck, he couldn't even walk into the kitchen to make something to eat without having a panic attack. He was supposed to be the strong, cocky, nonchalant 'hottie'. Now he was none of those things.

You rushed to his side immediately, fingertips moving to cup his face. He tore himself away from your touch, shaking his head. "Don't pity me."

"I don't." you whisper, "I just want to make you see what I see..."

Xavier looked up from his place on the floor, teary blue eyes meeting your own. God he was pathetic, he thought. "What?" he scoffed, "Freddy Krueger?"

You shake your head, "No...my beautiful boy..."