Chapter 7
After learning the baby was a telepath, Charles was beyond himself. Excitement surged through him—his child, their child, would share his gift, would understand a part of him that so few ever could.
But with that excitement came a deep, gnawing worry.
The baby had already manifested their mutation before birth. That was unheard of. And if their powers were this strong now, what would they be like as they grew?
A powerful telepath—perhaps even more powerful than Charles himself.
That thought alone sent a shiver down his spine, but it wasn’t just raw strength that concerned him. It was what came with telepathy. The challenges. The struggles. The loneliness.
Charles had spent so much of his life burdened by a mind that could hear too much, feel too much. The isolation, the overwhelming nature of it all—it had shaped him in ways he wouldn’t wish upon anyone, especially not his own child.
He never wanted them to go through what he had. Never wanted them to grow up feeling like an outsider, like there was something wrong with them simply because of what they were born with.
More than anything, he wanted to protect them. To prepare them.
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The next morning, Charles made his way down to the kitchen.
When he arrived, Hank was already there, carefully pouring tea into two mugs. The smell of breakfast filled the air, and from the adjoining dining room, the muffled chatter of children waiting for their meals hummed in the background.
Hank glanced up and smiled. “Good morning.”
Charles wheeled himself closer. “Good morning.”
As Hank continued preparing the tea, Charles decided there was no point in delaying the inevitable.
"Erik is back."
Hank froze mid-pour.
Charles pressed on. “He’s in his old room, still sleeping.” Erik hadn’t exactly given him permission to be in his head, but Charles didn’t need to go deep—just a quick, subtle sweep to make sure Erik was resting, safe.
Hank slowly set the teapot down. “Why is he here?”
Charles accepted the mug Hank handed him, staring into it for a moment before saying carefully, “He’s manifested a second mutation.”
Hank’s brow furrowed. “What?”
Charles exhaled, bracing himself. “And here’s the catch—his second mutation is what caused him to become pregnant.”
Hank’s entire body stiffened. He blinked rapidly, his mind visibly struggling to process what he’d just heard. “Pregnant? How…? Who’s the…?”
Hank trailed off, looking increasingly flustered. Charles couldn’t blame him.
A sheepish expression crossed his face as he cleared his throat and admitted, “I’m the father.”
"WHAT?!"
The sheer volume of Hank’s outburst startled some of the children in the next room. A few turned to glance toward the kitchen, curious.
Charles sighed, taking a slow sip of his tea as he waited for Hank’s inevitable breakdown.
"How did this happ—wait, no, I know how it happens." Hank shook his head, muttering to himself. "I’m sorry, but… what. Erik’s pregnant?"
He whispered the last part as if saying it any louder would make it more real.
Charles watched him struggle to process the information, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "I need your help with something."
Hank blinked at him, still dazed, but nodded.
"After breakfast, I’d like you to do a blood test—to check on Erik’s and the baby’s health. I also want you to determine how far along he is… and the baby’s gender, if possible."
Hank gave another slow nod, finally starting to compose himself. "He never went to get checked out?"
Charles sighed, shaking his head. "No. I can tell he’s having a hard time fully embracing the fact that he’s pregnant."
Hank exhaled through his nose. "Is he… keeping the baby? Or rather, are you both keeping it? And—" he hesitated, voice lowering slightly, "are you two actually going to try and work things out?"
Charles met his gaze without hesitation. "Yes, we’re keeping the baby. And yes, we’re going to try and make this work."
Hank studied him for a moment before giving a stiff nod. "Alright… just don’t get your hopes up too high."
Charles nodded in understanding. He knew this wouldn’t be easy.
A moment of silence passed as they both sipped their tea.
Then—casually, as if it were an afterthought—Charles added, "Oh, and the baby is a telepath."
Hank choked violently on his tea.
During breakfast, Charles made two important announcements.
First, there would be no classes today. That earned a round of cheers from the students.
Then came the second announcement.
"An old friend of mine—Erik—has returned and will be staying with us for some time."
At the mention of Erik’s name, the room shifted. The children knew of Erik, though few of them truly understood the depth of his history with Charles. Some exchanged curious glances, some murmured among themselves, but none spoke up.
Charles continued, "I also wanted to share something rather extraordinary. Erik has developed a second mutation, which has resulted in something… unexpected. I’m going to be a father."
Silence.
Then, a mix of reactions—some surprised gasps, some stunned blinking, and, from one of the older students, a very quiet but distinct, "Wait, what?"
Fortunately, all the children present were preteens and teenagers, so none needed a detailed explanation of the birds and the bees. But as for the second mutation… well, even though Charles had briefly touched on the idea of secondary mutations in lessons before, the idea of Erik—a man—being pregnant was something they struggled to wrap their heads around.
Some tried to whisper theories among themselves, others simply sat in stunned silence. But if there was one thing Charles noticed, it was their curiosity. They wanted to meet Erik.
"You’ll meet him," Charles assured them with a small smile. "But probably not today."
A few groans of disappointment followed, but they didn’t push further.
Once breakfast wrapped up, Charles made his way to the kitchen, where the chef had set aside a warm plate of food. Carefully balancing it, he headed toward the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor.
It was time to see Erik.
When Charles arrived at Erik’s bedroom, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart warmed at knowing that Erik was on the other side of the door.
He opened the door quietly, rolling inside and taking in the room—the same one Erik had always claimed as his own. And there, lying in bed, was Erik, still fast asleep.
Charles wheeled over to the bedside, placing the warm plate of food on the nightstand before reaching out, his fingers gently shaking Erik’s shoulder.
"Hey," he murmured softly. "Wake up. I brought you breakfast."
Erik groaned in response, shifting slightly but keeping his eyes shut. It took a moment before his lashes fluttered, his gaze sluggishly blinking open.
Charles watched him, and in that moment, he felt it—truly felt it. That deep, unshakable love he had for this man. He had always loved Erik. Even through the pain, the anger, even in the aftermath of Cuba, when hurt and resentment had clouded everything—his love had never disappeared.
It never could.
Erik let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded, still lost somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.
Charles smiled. "There’s food. You need to eat."
Erik gave a slow, drowsy nod and let his eyes drift shut again.
Charles sighed. "Erik, please wake up. You need to eat before I have Hank draw your blood."
At that, Erik’s eyes snapped open fully. "What?"
Charles fought back a chuckle. "I asked Hank to check your blood and vitals—to make sure both you and the baby are healthy. He’s also going to see if he can determine how far along you are and the baby’s gender."
Erik groaned again, this time in protest, rubbing a hand over his face. "You couldn’t have led with that?"
Charles just smiled knowingly.
Erik sat up as Charles handed him the plate. He took it, staring at the food for a moment before finally taking a bite.
After Erik finished his breakfast and got ready, he and Charles headed down to the lab.
When they entered, Hank looked up from his pile of papers and couldn't help but stare at Erik.
Erik quirked a brow. ''You done staring?''
Hank jumped slightly, his face reddening. ''Here, please sit down.''
Erik made his way to the chair and sat, while Charles rolled up next to him.
Hank proceeded to draw Erik's blood. Erik's gaze drifted to the syringe piercing his skin, and an odd feeling stirred in his chest.
Once he finished drawing blood, Hank carefully set the vial aside before making his way back to his desk. He adjusted his glasses and immediately began examining the sample, his brows furrowing in concentration.
Charles watched him for a moment before speaking. “Is everything progressing as expected?”
Hank hummed, not looking up. “So far, yes. The hormone levels are still stable, and there’s no sign of rejection. The mutation seems to be adapting well to the pregnancy.” He glanced at Erik. “How have you been feeling? Any unusual symptoms?”
Erik exhaled through his nose, arms crossed. “Other than the constant exhaustion and craving food I don’t even like? Fine.”
Charles smiled fondly but placed a reassuring hand on Erik’s arm. “That’s normal. Hank, do you think we’ll be able to get a clearer idea of how far along he is with this sample?”
Hank nodded. “That’s the plan. I should have more details soon.” He paused, glancing at Erik again. “And you’re sure your powers haven’t been acting up?”
Erik rolled his eyes. “If they had, I would have known."
Hank nodded.
Since it would take a while for Hank to determine how far along Erik was and the baby’s gender, Erik and Charles left the lab and headed back upstairs.
As they made their way up, Charles said, “Since there are only three rooms upstairs—and I’m occupying one while you have the other—we should turn the spare bedroom into the nursery.”
Erik nodded, glancing toward the spare bedroom as they reached the top of the stairs. “Makes sense. Not like we need it for anything else.”
Charles smiled. “Exactly. We should start planning soon—choosing colors, furniture, everything the baby will need.”
Erik let out a quiet scoff, crossing his arms. “You say that like I know anything about decorating a nursery.”
Charles chuckled. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to.” He nudged Erik’s arm playfully. “But I think you’ll have opinions once we start picking things out.”
Erik arched a brow. “As long as it’s not ridiculous, I don’t care.”
Charles smirked. “No bright pink walls with unicorns and stars, then?”
Erik gave him a flat look. “I will move out.”
Charles laughed. “Alright, alright. Something neutral, then.” He hesitated for a moment before adding softly, “I just want it to feel like home for them. Safe. Warm.”
Erik’s expression softened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, he murmured, “Yeah. Me too.”
The reality of having a child was finally sinking into Erik’s bones. He had been pregnant for a while now, but the weight of it—the true, undeniable fact of it—hadn’t fully settled until this moment. Soon, he would know the baby’s gender and how far along he actually was. The anticipation stirred something restless inside him, a mix of nerves and something he wasn’t quite ready to name.
It wasn’t until early evening that Charles and Erik received the news.
They were both in the study—Erik sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace, while Charles sat at his desk, grading paperwork. Erik had initially been in his room, but an odd pull had drawn him here. He found that he wanted to be near someone—specifically Charles. Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones making him feel unusually clingy.
The door creaked open, and Hank walked in. Both Charles and Erik snapped their heads up.
“Erik, you’re seven months along,” Hank announced, glancing between them. “And congratulations—you’re having a boy.”
Charles immediately rolled himself over to the couch, his face lighting up with a huge smile. “A boy…” he breathed, wonder and excitement filling his voice. He reached for Erik’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “We’re having a son.”
Erik’s fingers twitched in Charles’s grasp, but he didn’t pull away. His expression remained unreadable, his gaze fixed on the fireplace, as if the flickering flames held all the answers, he suddenly found himself needing. Seven months. That meant in just a couple more, there would be a child—a living, breathing child—in his arms. Their child.
Hank stood there awkwardly, shifting on his feet. “I, uh, also ran additional tests, and everything looks normal. No complications so far.”
Charles beamed. “That’s wonderful, Hank. Thank you.”
Erik finally spoke, his voice calm, almost indifferent. “Right. Great.”
Charles turned to him, his smile faltering just slightly. “Erik.” He squeezed his hand again, tilting his head as if trying to catch Erik’s gaze. “You’re allowed to be happy about this.”
“I am,” Erik said simply, finally looking at Charles. His tone was even, his face carefully neutral, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story. There was something there, something too big to name.
Charles searched his face for a moment before a small, knowing smile touched his lips. “We’re having a boy,” he said again, quieter this time, just for Erik.
And though Erik didn’t say anything, though his face remained unreadable, his fingers curled slightly around Charles’s hand, holding on just a little tighter.