Chapter 1
Charles woke up in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV, gasping sharply as other people’s thoughts raced through his mind, exhaustion and grief and suffering seeping in from every corner of the hospital. If he’d been awake when they left … left somewhere, he’d have told them just to take him back to the mansion. He couldn’t stand hospitals, couldn’t stand being in so many dying minds at once, especially not when he had the sinking feeling he might be one of them - but no. This wasn’t death. Charles knew what that felt like all too well. He was suffering certainly, and he couldn’t feel his legs - he couldn’t feel his legs.
Cuba. They’d been in Cuba to stop Shaw with the CIA, and someone murdered him. Charles had been in his mind when he died, remembered the searing pain as a piece of metal penetrated his - no Shaw’s skull - remembered being disoriented and terrified afterwards but pushing it to the back of his mind until he couldn’t anymore because he’d been shot, but -
Who had done it? Any of it?
Hank pushed through the door then, smiling gently, like Charles was something fragile. It was the way everyone looked at him here, now that Charles was a bit more awake. He hated it, hated the way everyone looked at him like he was something broken. He wouldn’t, and Charles realized he had no idea who he was. He shook his head, bringing a hand up to press against his temples, wincing as his mind filled with radio static. Hank, blue and furry and yet somehow allowed in the hospital - and Charles must have done that, but he didn’t remember - sat down in the chair by his bedside and pressed a hand against the edge of the sheets. “Charles, I need you to tell me what you remember of the last few months.”
The question unlocked something in the back of Charles’ mind, words spilling out and the memories crystalizing in his mind with each one. The lonely nights on the road when he was recruiting all of them, playing chess against himself and wishing there was a warm body next to him in the sheets. The months training together at the mansion, Charles playing at being a single father to all of them, even though none of them were exactly children. The beach when someone - another mutant - drove a coin through Shaw’s skull and Charles held him in place. One of Shaw’s own who’d betrayed him at the last minute, and Charles hadn’t stopped him because - if he’d let Shaw go, he’d have murdered them all. He’d been left with no other choice. And then - then their allies had fired missiles at them, tried to kill them, and there’d been a fight - one of the men from the boats shot him in the spine, because Charles was a threat, they were all threats and -
Maybe humanity could be trusted, but the government certainly couldn’t be. He’d have to make Moira forget how to find the school. He probably should’ve done as much to Raven when she ran off with Azazel and left him to rot, but he couldn’t bear making her forget her home.
Hank met his gaze when he finished the story, and for a second he looked so unbearably sad that Charles had to look away. But his gaze caught on the thin hospital sheets pooling at his waist, and decided that Hank’s pity was preferable after all. Hank told him about tests they were going to run this afternoon, about starting physical therapy, a million little things Charles should probably try and care about, but he couldn’t be bothered.
Charles shouldn’t listen in when Hank slid out the door and back to the others, but he couldn’t quite resist when it was so clear that they were talking about him. Sean sat up when Hank came, scrambling in his chair and nearly dropping his magazine. Alex kept pacing the same few tiles, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line. Hank shook his head, expression tight as he rolled his shoulders a few times. “He’s just - he doesn’t remember him.”
“How is that possible?” Sean asked in a loud whisper, and Charles could see the way he was throwing his arms out, feel the panic rising in his chest as he launched himself out of his seat. He couldn’t blame him. Charles wondered how he could possibly forget whoever this him Hank and his own mind were so obsessed with. The man who shot him maybe? Did Hank think he was going to seek him out for a cup of tea and an apology if he remembered his face? Even he wasn’t that naive.
“He’s a telepath, Sean. We know he can change people’s memories.” Hank’s voice was just a touch unsure, and Charles could see the look on his face, the quirked lips and the slight tilt of his head to the right as he met both their gazes.
“Yeah, other people’s memories.” Sean muttered in a low voice, and he raised an eyebrow at Hank, lips pursed slightly like he was asking a question. Hank just shrugged helplessly, and Charles flicked from his gaze back to Hank’s so he could see the look on Sean’s face. He looked so young and unsure, so tired, and Charles felt a spike of guilt go through him. He didn’t want them to worry about him, not when he was … well, not fine, but on his way there. Life would be different, but there was the school to look forward to, and he’d been alone before. He could do it again. Sean swallowed a few times, gaze flicking over to where Alex looked like he was contemplating punching a hole in the wall. “Should we … Do we tell him?”
“Why? So he can suffer even more?” Alex hissed in a low voice, and Charles expected him to look furious, but instead he looked wretched. His gaze was watery and downcast, a sense of despair radiating off of him, of betrayal - of course there was. The very people they had gone to save had betrayed them, left Charles with a bullet in his spine. They’d shot at the students too, launched missiles at them and if it hadn’t been … if it hadn’t been for Moira telling them to go, using what little leverage she had left, they’d all be dead. The fact Alex hadn’t burned those ships to the ground showed just how much restraint and compassion he had.
Hank sucked in a deep breath, and Charles switched to looking through Alex’s gaze, to where Hank looked composed and thoughtful. He always did though, so grown up despite barely being an adult. Hank shook his head a few times, voice lowering as though he thought Charles was listening in. As though volume would be the issue if he was. “But if they come back -”
“Charles is in a fucking hospital bed and they haven’t so much as called. They’re not coming back.” Alex snapped furiously, and his hands glowed red for a second. Then the light faded, Alex straightening his spine and giving Hank a knowing look. Charles resisted the urge to actually read their minds, to find out whose face he’d blocked out. It didn’t matter. He’d erase Moira’s memories of how to find them, and then this soldier - Charles could make him out now that he tried to focus on it - would be nothing more than a distant memory. “If this is what the Prof needs, I say we go with it.”
“I don’t think we have much choice in the matter, so it’s a moot point.” Hank added softly, and he looked back at his door with the same kind of concern from before, and Charles slid out of his mind. He didn’t need anything or anyone except a good cup of tea.
******
The school opened six months after Charles got out of the hospital, the hallways bustling with children’s laughter and math lessons, bedrooms filling up more and more with each passing week. It was what he’d always wanted, even before he knew that it was. Every time he helped a new student find their place or learn to love their powers instead of fear them, he felt a kind of pride he’d never had before, not for his thesis or his degrees. Charles still had bad days where he caught himself grieving for things he’d never realized he was taking for granted, or when Hank had another setback installing the new elevator, or when someone’s thoughts weren’t nearly as kind as they believed they were.
But still, Charles was building something good here, something worthwhile that would provide all the others like him a place where they could grow up without fear. His life had meaning, he had his students and his fellow teachers, his Cerebro. It didn’t change that he still felt an ache deep in his chest, a loss he couldn’t articulate, except that it felt like a part of him was missing. At first he’d thought it was Raven being gone, because she was his sister and his best friend, had been by his side for most of his life. And he did miss her, missed how she used to steal his coffee in the morning, or how she’d ruffle his hair when he was being particularly annoying, how she always made sure he had breakfast before he used Cerebro.
But it wasn’t that. He knew what missing Raven felt like. He had spent time away from her because of school and arguments and a million other little things that had kept them apart temporarily. She’d come home someday, or he’d go out and find her, a part of him believed that. Maybe because he’d go mad otherwise, but Charles still had faith that he’d see Raven again, and that she’d forgive him when he did.
This was decidedly different. Charles lied in bed at night and felt the ghost of warm breath on his neck, of kisses lazily pressed against his shoulders. He lectured one of the students and glanced out of the corner of his eye, expecting someone next to him that was never there. He played chess with Hank and felt like each move he made was wrong, heard the ghost of arguments and gentle mocking under each of Hank’s congenial words. He used Cerebro for hours longer than he should have and felt a hand on his wrist and chiding words, even as those same hands pressed a glass of water to his lips.
Charles supposed it was sehnsucht or saudade that he’d developed since his accident, and it would pass, given enough time. Still, for the time being Charles ached for someone he’d never known, a ghost of what could’ve been following his every move. It was enough to drive him mad.
The phone rang and pulled Charles from his melancholy, taking in a deep breath as he plastered a smile on his face. It was early enough that it was almost certainly an irate parent or someone who’d donated money to the school and since found out Charles was a mutant. He took a deep breath and put on the mask of the composed, placating professor, kind but also aloof. “Good morning, this is Dr. Charles Xavier.”
“Charles. It’s been a long time.” Raven’s voice on the other side of the voice was sarcastic, fond and with a forced lightness that meant she was trying to hide how nervous she was. Charles took a deep breath as he felt far too many emotions swell in his chest at once. Relief at hearing her voice again, giddiness because he missed her and even her being annoyed with him was better than her not being here at all. Hurt because she left and she never called, never sent so much as a ‘get well soon’ card, rage because after everything, Raven abandoned him as easily as his own mother had. More than anything though, he felt hope blossom in his chest, because Raven had called and that was what mattered.
Charles took a deep breath and reminded himself that Raven was probably calling for a reason, and not just to catch up. Not when she was off with Magneto and his band of rebels, causing all sorts of trouble that would get them all locked up someday. He just hoped that day wasn’t now. Since Cuba and the announcement that mutants existed, Charles didn’t have quite as many strings to pull as he used to. Of course, it was easy enough to make some strings if he needed to, but Charles didn’t like to take away people’s free will unless it was absolutely necessary. “Hello, Raven. How are you? Do you need anything? Is Magneto treating you well?”
“Of course he is, not that I need anyone taking care of me in the first place.” Raven reminded him, her voice sharper than it had been before. Charles rolled his eyes, shaking his head a bit, because he hadn’t meant it like that. It was just that he was her brother and he needed to know this Magneto treated her well. He’d hoped so when he’d seen blurry video of him and the odd photo in the newspaper, his expression usually one of cold fury. But Charles liked to imagine that he could see the kindness beneath, the protectiveness in his gaze for all of his fellow mutants. Maybe Charles just thought that because his sister was with him and he needed her to be doing the right thing, or maybe because Magneto was undeniably handsome, all lean muscles and sharp grey-green eyes that Charles imagined never missed anything. Raven coughed a little, her voice softer than it had been before. “How are you?”
“Still paralyzed, if that’s what you’re asking.” Charles snapped before he could think better of it, or consider the possibility that Raven didn’t even know. She made a pained sound on the other side of the phone, and Charles could imagine the way she was biting her lip, eyes watery and hands clenched into fists. Still, there wasn’t any surprise to it, so she must have looked into him or maybe the school after Cuba. Charles could pretend that was good enough. “I’m … okay. Better. You might’ve heard that the school’s opened.”
“I did, that’s why I’m calling.” Raven admitted with a sheepish tone to her voice, and Charles smirked only a little bitterly. Of course she hadn’t called for him. Charles shook the feeling off, because what mattered was that she called at all. Raven’s voice was more sure when she next spoke. “We found several mutants on our last mission. Children. They need a home.”
“I wouldn’t have thought Magneto considered the school a suitable one.” Charles said dryly, lifting his tea to his mouth and taking a rather long sip, a part of him wishing it was brandy instead. Magneto had only mentioned Charles a handful of times, but the words ‘arrogant’ and ‘naive’ and ‘supine’ had been said enough times for Charles to have a pretty good idea of what the other man thought of him. Alex and Hank would both shoot him worried looks out of the corner of their eyes whenever Magneto was on TV, and Charles just waved them off, because he was hardly worried about the words of a man he’d never met.
Raven huffed on the other side of the phone, annoyed and just a little hurt, though Charles had the sensation that it wasn’t for herself. “Erik might not agree on your means, Charles, but he does trust you. At least with this.”
“I thought you all preferred codenames.” Charles teased her gently, having read reports here and there about Mystique, the woman with a thousand faces, none of them as lovely as her real one. Charles couldn’t be mad at Raven for leaving him, not when he’d never made that clear to her, when he’d let his protectiveness of her become stifling. If she came back to the school, maybe he’d tell her that and convince her to come home. Maybe he could make Magneto realize that just because he had his own methods for moving their cause forward didn’t mean he was deluding himself. Maybe they could even work together. It would certainly make finding students easier, if he had the Brotherhood on his side. “I won’t turn them away, but you and Erik should bring them yourselves. I’d like to show you the school.”
“He wants to come, to see - to see the school. Make sure it’s safe for all of you.” Raven’s voice was strangled this time, each word like its own apology, but also hopeful. Maybe she was imagining the same impossible future that he was, and the idea made something twist in his chest.
“I’m a telepath, Raven. The only thing the school’s not safe from is that ridiculous helmet of his.” Charles laughed, warm and bright, grin wide and crooked, even though she couldn’t see him. Raven didn’t laugh though, instead she sighed in a way that made Charles’ laugh turn bitter for reasons he couldn’t explain. Maybe just because he always hated a mind being closed off to him, not because he wanted to read it, but because the feel of each one was so uniquely beautiful. If people could see themselves the way Charles did - well, the world would be a very different place.
“Right. I’ll see you soon, Charles.” Raven said softly and then the line went dead before he could say anything else. Charles fiddled with the phone cord for a few seconds, twirling it around his index finger as he considered which room to put Magneto in and how to break it to the others that the Brotherhood was visiting.
Charles knew it wouldn’t go over well with the boys or Cecelia and Shan and the other students who doubled as teachers, though it was mainly Alex and Hank who seemed to truly hate Magneto. Charles couldn’t quite understand why. He didn’t agree with Magneto’s methods by any means, but he was trying to provide a better future for their mutant brothers and sisters, to create a world where they could live without fear. It wasn’t so different from what Charles wanted, except that he thought with enough education and patience, humans could be a part of that future.
Bloody hell, half the time Charles suspected that Alex waffled between their viewpoints, could follow Magneto as easily as he could Charles, had he found him instead. But Alex had been furious at the suggestion, eyes flashing as he listed all the reasons why Magneto was an asshole. Hank was a bit more restrained, but every mention of the man made him narrow his gaze, like he expected him to come flying down it with that ridiculous cape of his flapping behind him. Sean at least seemed mostly indifferent, changing the channel every time Magneto appeared on the news.
Charles supposed now was as good a time to tell them as any. He pressed against all of their minds with a forced cheer that he hoped wasn’t too noticeable, though he had his doubts when Hank threw his door open, gaze tight and concerned behind his glasses, perched precariously across the ears that were now much further from his face. Charles sat up a bit straighter than before, pulling his light grey cardigan more tightly around his shoulders. He fixed them all an aloof and confident stare, one that made it clear what he was about to say wasn’t up for discussion. Alex just gave him a flat look, though Sean at least nodded and looked ready to agree with whatever he said. “Raven called me a few minutes ago. She wants to come for a visit. Apparently Magneto’s Brotherhood found some young mutants in need of a home.”
“Raven is coming herself? Not just sending them over?” Sean asked with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between Alex and Hank nervously, flexing his hands a few times. Alex opened and closed his mouth, lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head, ready to say God knew what. It didn’t matter. Charles cleared his throat loudly and gave them all a dry look. Sean and Hank had the decency to look abashed, and Alex at the very least looked willing to hear him out. Really, they didn’t all need to be so overprotective. Charles missed Raven, had been hurt she never visited, but he’d gotten through months of surgeries and physical therapy without her. He could handle seeing her for a few hours without falling to pieces.
“Oh, not just her. Magneto as well. Apparently he’s worried about our security system.” Charles told them glibly, smiling brightly in the face of how Alex’s eyebrow twitched at his words. Hank coughed a few times, blinking owlishly and shaking his head, though Charles couldn’t help but notice the pointed look he shot the other two out of the corner of his eye.
“You invited Magneto? He actually wants to come?” Hank asked when no one spoke for a few minutes, Alex still seeming to be in a kind of shock and Sean’s expression bordering on terrified. He might have miscalculated how afraid of the Brotherhood his staff really was. Hank took his glasses off and looked at Charles very carefully, as though looking for something in his face. He must have found it, because after a second he gave a satisfied nod, tilting his head toward Alex.
“I’m very convincing, Hank.” Charles grinned as he swept his hands out, giving them all what he hoped was a reassuring look. He knew there were dangers in letting Raven come back, let alone Magneto. He wouldn’t let anyone take his children away, not even his own sister if it came to that. But Charles didn’t think it would. Magneto could’ve attacked the school dozens of times if he’d wanted to. “There will be rules, of course. Measures of safety taken, but I don’t think he has any interest in hurting us. We might not agree on much, but we do agree about the safety of our mutant brothers and sisters.”
“I think you and I have different definitions of safe then.” Alex grunted as he met Charles’ gaze across the desk, lips pressed into a thin line. Charles held his gaze for a few seconds, tilting his head to the left slightly and smirking in a way Raven always called infuriating. Alex let out a defeated groan, some of the fight going out of him as some of the fight went out of his shoulders.“You’re not going to back down on this, are you?”
Charles shook his head, a few strands of hair falling across his face. He clasped his hands together, smile serene as he buried his emotions under a layer of calm composure. He needed to see his sister and he needed to meet Magneto, to understand how he’d ended up going down the path he was on. It was the only way to bridge the gap between their causes, to create a future for all of them, instead of a war fought on three sides. Charles needed to do this. “No, I’m not.”
“Can we be the ones who meet him first?” Hank asked suddenly, giving Charles a weak smile, pulling his shoulders in on himself so the blue fur tufted out slightly at the edge of his shirt collar. He really was magnificent like this, in a way he didn’t think he would’ve appreciated a few months ago. But then plenty had changed for both of them since then, and Charles liked to think he’d grown as a person.
“I suppose if you feel like it’s necessary. Raven said she’d see me soon, so I imagine they’ll be here tomorrow or the next day.” Charles pushed himself away from his desk, because he had a literature class in a few minutes for some of the eighth graders, and then flight class after that. Alex swallowed and glanced at Hank and then back to Charles, gaze lingering just to his left, where the wheel of his chair - oh. Yes. Magneto had control over metal and Charles was constantly surrounded by it now, uniquely vulnerable if he did attack. But - Magneto wouldn’t do something like that. He was - Charles didn’t know him, but he wouldn’t. “He won’t use it against me.”
“You hope.” Alex corrected softly, and there was no mistaking the look in his eye this time, like he felt sorry for Charles, like he thought him just as naive and arrogant as Magneto implied in all of his interviews. Well, Charles certainly couldn’t allow that.
“I do, and I’m rarely wrong.” Charles told him coolly, looking over at him with a confidence he’d fought for more than any of them knew. Charles understood people - the good and the bad - far more than anyone gave him credit for, could pick up on the feelings and half formed ideas behind every word and facial expression without even trying. So when he looked at Magneto and saw a good man underneath the harsh words and ugly helmet, he knew he was right. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach on To Kill a Mockingbird.”
And with that Charles pushed his way out of the office, pushing all of the emotions that face made swell up into the corner of his mind where they belonged.
Erik spent most of his time planning these days, chasing leads and information through secretive networks or messages from Emma when their interests aligned, finding new mutants to join his cause or to at least free them, if they couldn’t be convinced. The latest mission had been different though. The mutants they’d found had all been children, the oldest not more than fourteen. Erik knew he should take them to Charles, but the thought made something ugly twist in his chest, because Charles should be here. Or if not here, then Erik should be back at the mansion, the school doubling as the base for the Brotherhood. But Charles had refused him, refused their shared dream, because he was naive enough to think that future wasn’t inevitable.
Together they could provide that better future Charles dreamed of, where mutants were free to live without fear. But Charles refused to believe that his precious humans saw them all as a threat, not when he wanted to be a part of their world so badly that he ignored all the signs that they were never going to accept them. Not even Charles, because he might be perfectly normal on the surface, but sometimes he forgot to speak out loud or projected his emotions a bit too strongly, and then they’d turn on him just as quickly. Charles would rather let their missiles fall into the sea and pretend that he hadn’t seen his allies turn into enemies, would rather fight Erik than the people who wanted to destroy them both.
Except no, Charles clearly didn’t want to fight him, considering he hadn’t made contact once since the beach. He could find them if he wanted to - Raven usually stayed at the same bases Erik chose, and even when she didn’t, he took the helmet off to sleep. But he hadn’t felt Charles’ mind brush against his in over a year, no gentle words or apologies, not even recriminations for leaving him paralyzed on the beach. Erik had been offered nothing but silence, and that told him all he needed to know about what Charles considered him now.
There was a knock on his door then, weak and unnecessary. There was no one here but him and Raven, Azazel coming and going without warning and Janos and Angel on a mission in Paris. She slipped through the door a second later, smile tight and not quite meeting his gaze. She looked relieved and a little sad, so he suspected she’d reached Charles. He wondered if he’d been furious or morose, or if he’d been kind in that aloof manner he affected sometimes, wise beyond his years and compassionate and entirely removed from the world around him.
Raven didn’t tell him about any of that, though. Instead she came and leaned on the edge of his desk, legs crossed at the ankles, her blue skin striking against the white of her dress. She tilted her head to the right slightly, biting her lip as she stole one of the pens off of his desk. “Charles is happy to take the kids in, but he wants us to come see the school.”
“Does he?” Erik raised an eyebrow and did his best to keep his expression neutral, not wanting his surprise to show. Raven getting an invitation back was expected; Erik was sure Charles would welcome his little sister back with a warm smile and a few chiding words. He’d never expected to set foot in Westchester again, and if he did, he hadn’t thought it would be by Charles’ invitation. “That’s better than what I expected.”
“Maybe. He wasn’t - he doesn’t seem angry.” Raven sounded troubled, her face scrunching up and her voice taking on a hint of anger that usually meant she was actually worried. She shook her head, dropping the pen back on to his desk and pacing across the small space of his bedroom. Erik couldn’t blame her. He didn’t think Raven regretted her decision to go with him, but he knew she regretted how they’d left. Erik knew because so did he. They should’ve gone back for Charles, made sure he got to a hospital and at least stayed through his surgeries. Maybe if he’d been there in the early days after Charles was hurt, he’d be able to make him understand - but no. Charles wouldn’t understand until he wanted to. Raven looked over at him, her expression unbearably sad. “He should be angry, Erik.”
“He should, but Charles was always good at hiding his feelings.” Erik hadn’t expected it to sound quite so bitter. It wasn’t exactly fair, not when Charles told him he loved him with ease, when Charles gave him so much kindness and affection. But Charles gave so little of himself, pushed Erik away when he projected his nightmares across the house and buried the flashes of hurt and anger he felt as quickly as they came, like he was afraid what he might find if he didn’t. Erik wanted to see all of Charles just as Charles saw all of him, and he wasn’t sure he ever had. “What did he ask about me?”
“That he hoped you were taking care of me and that he was surprised you’d want to send the kids to him.” Raven’s voice was almost apologetic, her expression carefully even in a way that made it clear Charles hadn't asked about him at all. That hurt more than he’d expected it to.
“Right, we can leave tomorrow morning then.” Erik said after a minute, voice curt as he turned back to the papers on his desk. Raven looked like she wanted to say something else, but she must have thought better of it, because instead she turned and swept out of the room without another word. Erik made notes about the children they’d rescued and tried not to think about Charles and the way his eyes used to light up whenever he walked into a room. He didn’t think they would light up anymore.
*****
Erik and Raven arrived at the gate with the children, who were clinging together, terrified and confused and probably more than a little awed by the size of Charles’ house. They were whispering to each other and asking Raven questions about the school, but Erik could barely hear them over the white noise filling his head. Instead Erik found his gaze drifting to an old oak on the front lawn with thick leaves and gnarled old branches. Charles always insisted it was his favorite, even though it looked just like nearly every other tree on the property. Erik had fucked him against it once on a spring day, Charles thighs cool where they wrapped around his waist, a sharp contrast to the warm heat of his mouth. After that it had been Erik’s favorite tree too.
Erik flicked his gaze over to the window and swallowed tightly when he saw the back of Charles’ head, thick brown hair ruffled, bent over some book or paper, and Erik could see those bright blue eyes, so focused on his work he didn’t even notice he’d started chewing on the end of his pen. Erik shook himself from the reverie when he heard footsteps on the walkway, and he turned his gaze to the stairs that led up to the mansion and tried not to feel a stab of guilt at the sight of the ramp there.
Sean came down the stairs two steps at a time, smile wide and red hair even longer and more unruly than the last time he’d seen him. He glanced between him and Raven and grimaced in a way that was almost apologetic, and Erik couldn’t understand why until Alex and Hank followed him out a second later. Alex’s hands were clenched into fists and his mouth was pressed into a thin line, gaze flicking between Erik and Raven like he couldn’t decide who was the bigger threat. It was concern disguised as fury, a feeling Erik knew all too well. Hank was more calculating, his gaze cool and thoughtful and locked onto Erik. Rather that was because he saw him as more of a threat or because he just didn’t want to look at Raven and remember how he’d broken her heart, Erik wasn’t sure.
Sean waved awkwardly at them both, grin a bit tighter than it was before as he knelt down by the oldest child, Abigail, who could make plants move with her mind. She smiled back at him shyly, her brown eyes wide and curious as he held a hand out to her. After a moment she took it, giving Sean a shy smile of her own. “You must be the new students. I’m Sean and I’m the lucky guy who gets to take you to the gardens for the Professor’s grand tour.”
“Go with him.” Erik said curtly to the students, and the youngest, Suzanne, who could see past events like they were happening right in front of her, took Sean’s hand. Charles would have to work with her especially. Her powers had the same potential for joy and suffering as his did, both haunted by other people’s memories wherever they went, let alone their own. The children followed after a second, a few of them glancing back nervously every so often as they made their way up that grand staircase. Then the doors swung shut behind them, and Erik and Raven were alone with Alex’s rage and Hank’s clinical judgment. Hank took a step forward, not quite smiling, but there was an upturn of his lips, polite to the end. “Hello, Erik.”
“Hank, Alex. I see that Charles didn’t want to greet me himself.” Erik’s words were clipped and just a touch amused, though he knew that good humor didn’t reach anywhere towards his eyes. Charles was being petty in a way he hadn’t anticipated, first not acknowledging him on the phone and now not even meeting him at the gate. He’d expected his hurt and disappointment, his rage, but not this … denial of what they’d been to each other. But then, maybe it had simply meant different things to them. Maybe Erik just didn’t know Charles well enough to know how he dealt with his lover leaving him to bleed out on a beach.
“You can’t take the helmet off.” Alex snapped in a low voice, jabbing a finger out but not quite touching Erik’s chest, and there was a shakiness to his movements. Erik raised both his eyebrows, lips pursed because he hadn’t expected that. In fact, he’d thought they’d insist he take it off before he took any step closer to the school, and if Charles needed that to believe he came here in good faith, Erik was willing. He was willing to do plenty, if it meant Charles realized he could still trust him.
“I didn’t intend to.” Erik said instead of that, and he hoped none of his bitterness slipped into his voice. He’d told Charles to stay out of his head once but taken it back a few weeks into the road trip, when a slightly drunk Charles called him a hypocrite and threw a napkin at his head. After that he’d welcomed Charles into his mind little by little, until his presence there was taken for granted by the time they got back to the base. He’d come to expect the feeling of Charles in his head, flashes of memories with texture Erik couldn’t put into the words flitting across his mind, inside jokes that had flavors. It was intoxicating, and Erik couldn’t imagine why anyone would deny Charles as he really was. Then Cuba happened and Erik lost that too. “Besides, I doubt Charles would want to touch my mind again after everything that happened.”
“It’s not that simple.” Hank murmured softly, glancing over at him, and this time he looked almost apologetic, which surprised him. He wouldn’t have thought Charles and his students would think they’d done anything wrong. Hank finally turned his gaze to Raven, a flicker of hurt going across his eyes, only to fade as he turned his gaze back to Erik. “Charles doesn’t remember you.”
Erik stared at Hank blankly for a few seconds, not processing what he’d just said at first. Charles didn’t remember him? Charles, who he’d shared a bed with every night for a year, who called him good and meant it, who he’d gone to war with, even if Charles refused to call it that? There was no way. Erik hadn’t even considered the possibility of Charles moving on, let alone setting Erik aside like a bad memory, because that had to be what Hank meant, right? He couldn’t mean that Charles just … forgot him. Not unless the coin had done more damage than he thought, and the most terrifying part was that it wasn’t impossible. Erik had no idea what temporarily dying would do to Charles’ mind or his powers, but - Erik shook the feelings away, meeting Hank’s gaze and trying not sound as terrified as he felt. “Excuse me?”
“He erased you from his memory. By accident, I think?” Alex muttered in a low voice, pressing his shoulders in on himself and looking just a touch less furious than he had a second ago. Erik raised an eyebrow, because Charles had erased his own memory without realizing it? Could he even do that? Raven sighed then, low and wretched, but not at all surprised, her gaze flicking over to the study morosely. Charles had done this before then, maybe when he got a B on a test, and then he realized he was the B in this scenario and felt insulted by his own analogy. Alex glanced over at him, looking as confused as Erik felt. “After Cuba he had a panic attack or something, and when we went to the hospital, he didn’t remember you. We tried to see if we could help get his memories back, but … the thing is, they weren’t gone. He remembered everything, just … without you.”
“And so you stopped trying to get him to remember?” Raven snapped, her hands balled into fists as she took a step closer to both of them, eyes flashing with concern but also something like guilt. Curious. Hank held his hands up placatingly, and something must have passed between them wordlessly, because Raven took a step back, shoulders slumping as some of the fight went out of her.
“Can you blame us?” Alex hissed and his confusion was superseded by his rage again, glaring heatedly at both of them. Erik didn’t need to hear all of the different accusations he was sure were on the tip of Alex’s tongue. Not when he’d already made them all to himself time and time again. He should’ve just stopped the bullet instead of diverting it. He should’ve knocked Charles out and woken him up after they’d recreated the world. He should’ve stayed long enough to make sure Charles survived.
A dozen different should have’s and none of them mattered, because Erik left and Charles forgot. Alex seemed to recognize that, because he settled for glaring at him, rolling his wrist a few times when red sparks came off his fingertips. He had better control than he had before, and he supposed he had Charles to thank for that.
“More easily than you seem to think.” Erik said dryly after a moment, because he did blame them. He blamed himself and Charles most, but they wouldn’t be sharing these guilty looks if they thought they’d done the right thing. Because eventually all that rage and suffering Charles locked away in the back of his mind, where it couldn’t hurt him or anyone else, would find its way to the surface. Pain always did, and with a power like Charles, it would be ugly when it did. Destructive, and the best any of them could hope for was that the only one who would get hurt was Charles, and that - that was unacceptable. “What about Raven? What about Cuba?”
“He remembers Raven. He just … changed things around so she left a bit less dramatically than she did in real life.” Hank gave them both a weak smile, a bit of hurt flashing across his face. Erik wondered what that meant, if this imaginary Raven just snuck off to join him in the middle of the night, or if she’d let Azazel lead her away from the beach. Did Charles dream up a Raven who at least stayed through the first few hours at the hospital, who realized that he didn't want her to leave, not really, instead of being as oblivious as Erik? And what about the beach? Did he think his beloved Moira shot him? “He knows that some kind of argument broke out and that a gun went off by accident, and he was just unlucky enough to be in the right place at the wrong time.”
Erik rolled his eyes before he could stop himself, because clearly they hadn’t tried very hard to get him to remember, if that flimsy story held up. Did he even remember the missiles, or had he made all of the humans there innocent victims like him? Erik supposed he wouldn’t know until he asked Charles for himself, and to that he’d have to play by Alex’s and Hank’s rules, at least long enough to be allowed inside. Erik gave them a flat look, tilting his head to the right and keeping his expression even. “Right. So you’re suggesting I don’t let Charles in my mind and pretend that we’ve never met?”
“Yes?” Alex asked in a slightly weaker voice, wincing slightly when Erik just gave him a blank look in return. Raven shook her head, looking ready to argue when Erik held his hand up, silencing her with a quick glance out of the corner of his eye.
“All right.” Erik said with a casual shrug of his shoulders, smirking a bit as he sauntered past them and toward the oversized doors. He could feel three sets of eyes staring at his back, but none of them mattered as much as the ones on the other side of that door.
*****
Erik wished he’d marched over to Charles immediately and took his helmet off, made Charles remember everything that helped him channel his pain into something worthwhile, or at least at the right targets. Instead he stopped a few feet away from the kitchen when he heard Charles’ voice, warm and lilting as he told the children about their morning classes. Raven pushed past him and he heard Charles’ stop mid sentence, words drowned out in a gasp. Raven said something that he couldn’t quite make out, but there wasn’t any yelling or heated words. Erik peeked his head around the corner and found Charles embracing her, his eyes slightly watery and just a little angry if one knew Charles well, but more relieved than anything else.
She met his gaze over Charles’ shoulder and jerked her head toward the door as she let go of her brother, taking a few small steps back until she was leaning against the kitchen wall. Erik started to move, only for Suzanne to tug on Charles’ sleeve, looking up at him with big brown eyes and whispering something. Charles smiled at her warmly, any of the hurt in his gaze from before replaced with something open and warm as he took her hand. He murmured something to her that made her face light up, grin wider and more genuine than Erik had seen it in the past week, and he couldn’t help the fondness that came over him at the sight. As much as their paths might have diverged, he had wanted this for Charles.
Erik stepped through the doorway, mouth pressed into a thin line as he came into Charles’ line of vision. He didn’t know what he expected to happen, if he thought Charles would look in his eyes and remember everything that had passed between them, or laugh in his face and tell him it had all been some kind of elaborate joke. Instead Charles glanced up at him and tilted his head to the right, his smile even and reserved, the same way he used to look at all the CIA agents and officials who asked the wrong questions. Erik cleared his throat, crossing the room until he was in front of Charles, sitting down in the kitchen chair across the table from, like he had so many times before. But this time was different. “You’re good with them.”
“I’d hope so. I have to say the helmet isn’t any more flattering in person, Magneto.” Charles said glibly, gaze amused but cautious, more so than it had been the last time he’d met Erik. Erik kept his expression cool, even as he internally flinched at the way Magneto sounded on Charles’ lips, formal and impersonal. Charles reached a hand out across the table, tilting his head to the right, as though he wasn’t sure that he’d take it. Erik reached his hand over and took it, lacing their fingers together and holding on just a bit longer than necessary. Charles pursed his lips, glancing down at their entangled hands in bemusement, and Erik could practically feel him trying to decide if it was a power play or a come on.
“Erik.” Erik murmured as he pulled his hand back, voice slightly strangled in spite of himself. Charles’ hands were soft but deceptively strong, and now he could feel a few callouses along his palm. Erik gave Charles a once over, taking in what the past year had changed. His arms and upper chest were more defined than before, lightly muscled. The rest of his frame had a slight roundness that gave him a healthy glow, his skin pale but with a warmth to it that lit up his whole face. Charles had forgotten him and he looked all the better for it. Erik thought that would make him angry, but instead he just felt relieved.
“Erik? So you really don’t all go by codenames.” Charles mused as he shot Raven a playful look out of the corner of his eye, lips quirking into a half-smile when she just rolled her eyes. It was all so painfully familiar that Erik had to look away, glancing over to where Hank and Alex were standing in the doorway. Alex watched them fiercely, like he was waiting for Erik to turn on Charles, when he’d never considered them enemies in the first place. He never would. Hank’s expression was guarded, watching Charles with an almost paternalistic concern. Charles met his gaze then, shaking his head a bit and smiling crookedly, like they were having a secret conversation all of their own. “Alex, Hank, if you don’t mind, I wanted to give Erik here the grand tour on my own.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Alex flicked his gaze over to Erik and then rather pointedly at the metal clock on the wall, the stove, and finally over to Charles himself. Some of the anger was gone, though, and he seemed more worried about Charles spending time with Erik than Erik actually doing anything. He couldn’t blame him.
“I won’t do anything to hurt him.” Erik promised with a sharp smile, holding both his hands up, palms flat in a gesture of surrender that even he didn’t believe. Charles let out a huff of laughter, sudden and bright and making something twist in Erik’s chest.
Erik watched as Charles pressed his hands against the rims of his wheels, pushing them so he glided forward until he came to a stop in front of the back door of the kitchen, leading out to the sweeping gardens and swimming pool. They used to spend the afternoons there, training Sean and Alex for hours, and then afterwards they would sit under Charles’ tree and lazily makeout after the students went inside to shower. Erik shook himself from the memory and found Charles looking up at him through his eyelashes, smirking in a way that would look smug if not for the softness of his gaze. “You couldn’t if you wanted to.”
“No, I suppose not.” Erik agreed without meeting Charles’ gaze, hoping that the tightness in his voice wasn’t noticeable to anyone else. No, he couldn’t hurt Charles, not in any way that mattered.
Erik let Charles lead him down the pathway, nodding along as Charles told him about the layout of the school, as though he didn’t already have it memorized and imprinted in his mind, every corner of the building filled with memories of Charles. He stopped by one of the older trees, smiling fondly as he showed Erik a tire swing that hadn’t been there before, fingers tracing the edges of the rope. “Jean insisted we put it up and she hasn’t used it once since. Really, I’m not sure anyone has except Sean.”
He was glad that his helmet cast shadows over his face, so that Charles couldn’t see the way he flinched when the words were empty. Before, every name Charles mentioned would come with a flurry of images, his favorite memories of the person and what colors Charles associated with them, sometimes even the taste of their favorite cereal. Talking to Charles when his words were just that felt empty, like he was talking to a stranger wearing Charles’ face.
Erik turned away from the thought, eying the metal fence that surrounded the school instead. He couldn’t feel anything around it, no signs of wires in the ground or even a basic security system, all things he knew Charles and Hank were capable of building. He dug deeper, into the soil and around the walls, but there was nothing. Erik furrowed his brow as he glanced over at Charles, mouth pressed into a thin line. “The gates around the school, are they just metal?”
“Yes, should I be worried about you trying to break in?” Charles raised an eyebrow, smiling at him wryly as he folded his hands in his lap. He seemed more amused at the idea than anything else, and Erik couldn’t decide if he should be flattered that Charles instinctively trusted him or worried that he’d somehow become even more naive since they’d last met.
“No, but you’re not making it difficult for anyone else.” Erik hissed as he met Charles’ gaze, and as though to prove his point, he bent several in the pickets to the side, creating a space just large enough for a man to crawl through. Charles watched all of this with a sort of muted delight, eyes lighting up when he saw how the metal bent in time with Erik moving his fingers back and forth. He had always taken a certain delight in Erik’s powers, in the way the metal twisted and changed shape under his care, at the way he could put things back together just as easily as he could break them. He supposed that wouldn’t be any different now just because the powers were coming from a stranger. “There are men out there who want to hurt you and your children. You can’t be so naive.”
“Oh trust me, Erik, I’m well aware.” Charles’ expression changed then, any of the mirth that had been there before faded, replaced with something far colder. Erik wanted to argue with him that he wasn’t, but he wasn’t so sure, not with the look on Charles’ face, bitter and calculating in a way he rarely had been before. Now that Erik thought about it, no one had mentioned Moira since he arrived, and there were no signs that any of the teachers here were human. Maybe Charles had learned something after all.
Still, he could be doing more, needed to be doing more. There were several dozen ways to break into the mansion, or to plant bugs without anyone noticing. They needed a better security system, something that let them know when people crossed the gates, or were even just approaching them. Something besides Charles, because even with his mind, he couldn’t be everywhere and in every mind at once, or maybe he could, but not well enough to control all of them. He’d either lose them or end up killing them, and neither was an option Erik thought Charles could handle. Not the Charles he knew, idealistic and nurturing, who remembered everything in far too much detail. Well, apparently except when he didn’t want to remember things at all. “And yet you aren’t doing nearly enough to protect them. Are you really that arrogant?”
“You would think that.” Charles said dryly, and then he gave Erik a look of fond exasperation, like they’d had this conversation hundreds of times before. Charles blinked owlishly after a second, expression fading as he peered over at him in bemusement. Erik cleared his throat and looked away from Charles, trying to make it seem like he was focusing on the gate and not the look that has passed between them, the familiarity of it. Maybe Erik was fooling himself, because Charles had always been more open than him, more willing to give out affection like there wasn’t a finite amount of it. But there was a chance that Charles remembered him, or the ghost of him at any rate. Charles gave him a cooler smile then, expression poised and prim. “I’m not fighting a war, I’m running a school.”
“That doesn’t mean the war won’t come to your doors or try and take your children away.” Erik chided, turning on his heel, expression harder than it had been a second ago. Mutants were public knowledge now, and society was terrified of them, saw them as the same kind of threat as the characters in a science fiction novel. He wouldn’t let Charles lead their people to their deaths.
“So, what do you suggest I change, if you have so many thoughts?” Charles met his gaze evenly, pressing one hand under his chin, lips pressed into a thin line. Erik raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the right so his helmet rubbed against the side of his face. He thought he’d have to put up more of a fight than that, but then maybe he shouldn’t have. Charles was arrogant and callow, but he wasn’t short-sighted most of the time. He’d have heard the same whispers Erik had, about government labs and CIA files tracking their every movement, but somehow missing nearly all of the past few years. And wasn’t that convenient, when the last known mutant to talk to the CIA could take their memories away without even blinking? “Well?”
“Underground wire systems, for one. More alarms inside, and maybe making use of those underground bunkers.” Erik listed off quickly, because he’d had these plans before he left, had argued with Charles about them and nearly won. Now it was just a matter of making a few adjustments. He sent images along with each one before he remembered that Charles couldn’t see them, that his mind was closed off to him. He wondered what he felt like to Charles, if he could sense him at all, or if he was just empty space and white noise. He wondered if Charles forgot because remembering him but not being able to feel him hurt, and then he pushed the thought aside. He needed to focus. “I believe there’s also medical equipment and some illegal technology in the basement?”
“Raven has told you quite a bit, hasn’t she?” Charles asked with a tight smile, giving Erik a considering look. It wasn’t quite calculating, Charles seemed to trust that they were, if not on the same side, then close enough to it that Erik didn’t plan on attacking them. Erik wondered if Charles had studied him and his Brotherhood, if he’d watched his speeches and protests and felt a spark in the back of his mind. Maybe Charles kept track of all the politicians he and Raven pissed off, because he still didn’t realize all of them were their enemies. Still, Charles was more cautious than he had been, and was clearly unhappy Raven had told him about Cerebro. If that distrust was aimed at anyone besides himself, Erik thought he might be proud of Charles.
“Enough.” Erik kept his voice even, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth that didn’t quite reach his gaze. He wondered who Charles thought used to drag him off of Cerebro when he stayed on for hours at a time, brushing his fingers through his hair and gently mocking him when he got migraines afterwards. He felt an irrational spike of jealousy that Charles might have imagined someone else there and quickly pushed it aside. Erik had been there.
“What you’re suggesting would take weeks, maybe even months, and poor Hank would have to do so much work. I’m not much help when it comes to the physical, I’m afraid.” Charles said it lightly, smile serene and gaze playful, but Erik knew him well enough to sense the bitterness underneath the words and to see the tightness of his smile. Erik stilled next to him, flexing his hands a few times as the gate shook, because he’d put that tightness there, planted those seeds of doubt in Charles’ mind. Suddenly there was a hand on his wrist, touch gentle even as Charles looked up at him sharply. “Save your pity, Erik. I wasn’t before the accident either.”
“It wasn’t pity.” Erik told Charles softly, holding his gaze so that he could see he was telling the truth. Guilt for not making the bullet just drop and for not being there for the surgeries and physical therapy, for not making those ramps himself. Guilt for not being there to fight anyone who’d made Charles expect pity, when he was more than anyone else, clever and beautiful and more powerful than they could ever hope to be. But never pity, not for Charles. Charles smiled at him then, warm and appreciative, and there was something in his gaze that made Erik want to stay. “I could help, if you wanted. It would be faster with my powers.”
“And how could I trust that you wouldn't try and seduce my teachers away with delusions of grandeur?” Charles teased as he tilted his head to the right, though there was a seriousness that belied the playfulness of his words. Erik snorted a bit, giving Charles a wry grin, because he couldn’t promise anything of the sort, not when the very teacher he was trying to seduce to his side was Charles himself. Still, he couldn’t help but notice that Charles’ gaze was curious and just a touch hopeful, like he wanted Erik to stay. But then, of course he would. If Charles convinced him of his vision, or at least got him to promise to protect his children when it inevitably failed, that would be a win for him. It wasn’t personal.
“You couldn’t, just like I wouldn’t be able to stop you from charming my soldiers with fantasies of peaceful coexistence.” Erik smirked at him, giving Charles a quick once over, so he made it clear just how charming he found him. Charles’ eyes widened for a second and he pursed his lips, wrinkling his nose as though he were trying to decide if Erik was flirting with him or mocking him. Erik smirked egnimiativally and pressed his hand over Charles’ own, voice dropping half an octave. “But these students need to be safe, and you don’t strike me as the type of man afraid of a little competition.”
“I’m not afraid of much of anything.” Charles assured him with an easy smile, radiating a confidence that might come across as smug, if not for the fact that Erik knew it was well-earned. Charles leaned towards him, and neither one moved their hands from where they were still grasping one another between them. “If you’re offering to help and if you promise not to bring your war to my doors, you’re more than welcome to stay. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something.”
“Or maybe you will.” Erik murmured with a shake of his head, pulling his hand back suddenly like he’d been stabbed. Charles glanced at him, lips pursed like he was about to say something important. But then he turned his gaze away from Erik and back down the path to the front lawn, pushing himself forward as he started telling Erik about where they trained the students. Erik followed alongside him and pretended he didn’t know everything Charles was saying already.
****
Erik was led back inside at the end of the grand tour, back to Charles’ study, and he couldn’t resist running a hand over the edge of the armchair he’d sat in when they’d played chess after dinner, the material just as stiff and worn as in his memories. Erik could feel Alex and Hank watching him, a mixture of pity and wariness that put him on edge. The tension in the air only got worse when Charles pushed his way to the center of the room, clasping his hands together and grinning just a bit too stiffly to be entirely natural. Raven stared at Charles and took in the slightly nervous way he tugged on the edge of his sweater, and let out a low exhale and glared at him out of the corner of her eye. “Alex, Hank, I wanted to speak with you -”
“Charles has invited me to stay here to help update your security system.” Erk cut Charles off, voice clipped as he came to stand at his side, not quite touching Charles. Hank’s expression didn’t change, polite and even, but Erik could see the worry in his gaze, the frustration. Alex had no such poker face, lips pursed and gaze flicking between Charles and Erik wildly, lifting a hand up only to drop it to his side.
“You what?” Alex settled on glowering at Charles, each word spit out like a recrimination. Charles smiled back at him serenely, expression poised and slightly rueful, like he’d forgotten to tell Alex he was going out to lunch and not that he’d invited a wanted man to stay with them indefinitely. Erik doubted that would go over well. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked back to find Raven giving him a flat look.
“Erik, could I talk to you outside?” Raven asked in a way that made it clear it wasn’t a question, already taking him by the arm. Charles caught his eye and gave him an amused look, his smile a little less serene and a bit more crooked as he waved him off. Outside of not being able to feel or properly hear Charles, it was like stepping back into their old dynamic, secret conversations playing out with just one look. They always did understand each other more easily than they did anyone else, except for about the one thing that mattered the most. Erik was pulled from his reverie by Raven tugging on his shoulder, and this time he let her lead him out of the study and back into the gardens, not stopping until they were far enough away that Charles wouldn’t be able to hear them. She turned on him then, hands on her hip and mouth twisted into a scowl. “What are you doing, Erik? We came here for the students, not for Charles. It’s easier for all of us to just leave.”
“Easy rarely leads to great things.” Erik flicked his gaze to her, expression harsher than it had been a second ago. He wasn’t just staying for Charles, he wanted to make the school safer, to make Charles realize he was at war whether he wanted to be or not. If that meant Charles also remembered how he used to kiss Erik’s eyelids to wake him up, well, Erik wanted that too. But he could survive without that, as long as he knew that his mutant brothers and sisters were safe. “Unlike your brother, I thought you understood that.”
“Do you love him?” Raven asked, voice dropping to barely more than whisper as she took a step toward him, her white skirt flowing out behind her. Her gaze was knowing and just a little rueful. Erik stared back at her blankly for a few seconds, trying to find a way out of this conversation and coming up empty. Raven bit her lip, meeting his gaze evenly as she pressed a hand against his shoulder, like they’d been avoiding this conversation for months. Maybe they had. Charles’ name only came up in hushed conversations about his health and the little they knew of the school, neither of them mentioning the taste of sand that followed Erik everywhere. “He loved you, Erik.”
“He doesn’t love me.” Erik hissed before he could think better of it, the bitterness he’d been burying before finally rising to the surface. Because Charles couldn’t love him, because when he looked at him all he saw was a stranger. And the Charles from before, well, he wasn’t here. Not anymore. “And if he did, he chose to forget that.”
Raven looked over at him hesitantly, furrowing her brow as she glanced over at the window of the study. She seemed like was trying to decide if she should tell him something or not, and then she flicked her gaze back to Erik, swallowing tightly and mouthing an apology he suspected wasn’t for him. “He didn’t do it on purpose.”
“How can you be so sure?” Erik’s voice was tight, each word sounding more like a snarl. He could hear the gates shaking behind, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when his emotions were pushing their way up his throat like bile, hope and anger and regret bleeding together into something Erik couldn’t understand.
“I can’t, but I know he’s erased his memory by accident before.” Raven explained nervously, and this time she whispered more than before, looking over her shoulder as though she expected Charles to appear behind her at any second. “He was terrified and hurt and devastated, and he just had a panic attack, and his telepathy just kicked in and erased what was causing him to panic, and then his mind just made up a story to make what was gone make sense. Sound familiar?”
Erik swallowed because yes, very much so. For as calm as Charles had been when he told them to go, Erik could see the fear in his eyes, in the way his lip trembled when Erik let go of him, like maybe they were both making a mistake. He’d been poised because he had to be, for his students and Moira and for his own sanity, but Erik knew better. Charles had been shattered by the coin going through his skull and their allies turning on them, and by Erik and Raven abandoning him. And then he’d realized he couldn’t feel his legs - Erik could imagine his telepathy kicking in to protect him, to remove the one factor all of those things had in common in Charles’ mind. Him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. “What made him do it the last time?”
“That’s for Charles to tell you, not me.” Raven murmured, which was rich for her to say when Charles didn’t remember. Raven tilted her head to the right, pulling her hand back and resting it at her side, standing up a bit straighter than before. “Do you love him?”
Erik swallowed at her words, gaze flicking past her and toward the window to Charles’ study, a light grey cardigan sloppily spread out against the back of his chair. Love. Love was a luxury he’d never afforded himself. Not after Shaw.
But then, Charles was a luxury he shouldn’t have afforded himself either, and yet Erik let Charles rest his head in his lap while he read poetry, switching between languages as he carded his hand through Charles’ hair. He’d watch Charles work on his papers, eager and passionate in a way he usually tried to hide behind a thin veil of cool composure, chewing the edges of his pens and getting ink everywhere. How Charles looked at him in awed affection whenever he used his powers or cooked or helped a student, like he’d never seen anything quite so lovely. Charles held him when he had nightmares, murmuring soothing words against his skin and never once judging him, helped Erik fortify all his memories of his mother so that they would never fade.
Charles had been the sweetest thing Erik ever allowed himself, but he wasn’t sure that made it love. Not when he also found Charles endlessly frustrating. Charles was painfully arrogant, smug smiles and giving his students all these easy assurances that he had no right to promise. Not when his vision of the future was a fairy tale built by a poor little rich boy who’d never lacked for anything. And he was stubborn about it too, refusing to admit when he’d lost an argument, even when Erik could feel his doubt flicker through the room, because Charles wasn’t quite as controlled as he pretended to be. And there was that too, how Charles played at being normal and hid his powers by wiggling his fingers and claiming he didn’t mind his endless migraines.
And Charles was somehow naive despite being a telepath. He thought that he could change minds and hearts with the right words and his endless compassion, and wasted it on people who hated him when his own brothers and sisters needed him. If Charles was as wise as he thought he was, he’d be with Erik, teaching his students in true safety.
And that was the rub. Despite all those flaws, despite him being terrible sometimes, despite him refusing to accept reality even when people aimed missiles at him, Erik still wanted Charles by his side. But was that love, or just the natural reaction to finding an equal, someone he could do great things with? Erik didn’t know. All he knew was that he wasn’t leaving until Charles remembered him. He owed them both that much. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out and I’m not going to let Charles hide from himself.”
Raven held his gaze, mouth pressed into a thin line and hands balled into a fist, and Erik waited for her to start yelling. Instead she just let out a low sigh, turning to stare at the back of Charles’ head in the window again. “Then I guess we’re staying here.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Erik said softly as he reached a hand out, the shaking gates stilling as he met her gaze. This had been her home, and being back now that it wasn’t must have been strange. That, and Charles would try to get her to stay, even if he didn’t realize he was doing it. Unless Erik could make Charles see the error of his ways, she’d have to break his heart for a second time.
“Someone has to protect you two from yourselves.” Raven said softly, shaking her head as she turned and started back up the pathway toward the house. Erik followed after a moment, sparing one last glance to the study window, where he could see Charles writing notes in the margins of his book.
Charles got less resistance than he’d expected, considering he was inviting Magneto of all people to come stay with them. Even he knew the idea bordered on the ridiculous, considering how opposite their methods were and the fact that Magneto was considered something of an enemy of the state. Though, as he noted to Alex several times, he hadn’t actually been convicted of anything and most of what he’d done had been to protect other mutants either way, so calling him a ‘criminal’ was a bit much. But even if Erik was in trouble with the law, he didn’t care. Charles trusted Erik from the moment he met him, even if he couldn’t put why into words. He just knew there was something drawing them together, a sense that they were meant to work together, to find one another.
He didn’t tell Alex or Hank any of that, of course, because it sounded ridiculous in a way Charles decidedly wasn’t. So instead he pointed out that Erik’s powers would help them build the elevator and reinforce the gates, that having someone who actually knew about security helping create their systems could only be a benefit. And more than that, they weren’t the enemy. Erik and Raven and their Brotherhood might have different means, but they wanted the same things, and maybe this would be a way to find a middle ground. Hank had given him an utterly heartbroken look that Charles didn’t understand.
Then Hank had said he and Alex needed to talk by themselves, and Charles watched Hank drag Alex into the hallway before he could argue with him. Charles tried not to listen to them arguing in the hallway for the next fifteen minutes. But when they came back, they agreed that Erik could stay. After that it had been easy to convince Sean and Shan and the other teachers, especially when he pointed out that if Erik betrayed him, they certainly had more people and powers on their side.
Charles grinned when he saw Erik coming up the walkway, somehow still handsome despite the ridiculousness of that helmet, especially when he was just wearing a turtleneck and slacks. He pushed himself forward, hands resting on the rims of his wheel as he came to Erik’s side at the study door. Erik gave him a small smile, his gaze fixed onto Charles in a way that was almost uncomfortable in its familiarity. He grinned crookedly over at Erik, and even he could tell that he probably looked a bit too eager, considering Erik had spent half the time he’d been here mocking him. Charles couldn’t bring himself to care though. “Erik! You’re back. I’ve talked it over with my fellow teachers, and they’re all right with you staying to help with the elevator and the security system.”
“How fortunate, since Raven and I decided staying would be in all our best interests.” Erik said dryly as he sauntered past Charles and into the study, reaching for the bottle of scotch he kept near the chess set. Erik reached for it like it was his right, running his fingers up and down the side of the bottle at an agonizingly slow pace. Charles flushed and looked away, back into the hallway where Raven and Hank were whispering to each other in the doorway, as though she’d never left at all.
The thought made something twist in his chest, because if they could find a middle ground, he could have his sister back. She’d be home, making fun of how much tea he drank and stealing his chips, telling off everyone who treated him differently. And Erik … well, Charles would like to get to know him better, to show him that there were paths without bloodshed. Charles glanced over at Erik and smiled, reaching for one of the glasses. “What we want isn’t that different, you know.”
“No, just that you think you can have it all without having to fight for it.” Erik murmured as he popped the lid off of the brandy, pouring it into Charles’ glass and holding his gaze the entire time. Charles just looked back at him evenly, licking his lips a few times before he took a small sip of his drink, savoring the taste. He hadn’t had a glass in months, not having a taste for it in the early days of the school.
“And you think fighting is the only way to get anything.” Charles said with smirk as he brought another glass over, filling it to the brim before sliding it across the table and down toward Erik. Erik snorted, a spark to his gaze as he caught the drink in his hand. He held it up as though in cheers, and after a second Charles held up his own as well, smirk turning into a more genuine smile.
“Anything worth having, at the very least.” Erik corrected him with a rather pointed stare, past Charles and over to his desk where all of his work on genetics and papers to grade were laid out in a disarray. Charles followed his gaze and took in the sight, glancing over each paper with a rush of fondness. There was Jean’s math homework alongside Kevin’s college applications. Erik wasn’t wrong. Every student here was worth fighting for, and if it came to it, Charles would do what he needed to do to protect them. But he hoped that day never came, that he could reach people with actions and words instead of with the kind of fight Erik meant.
Erik who had downed half his brandy and who was glancing around the study as though trying to memorize every inch of it, his gaze lingering on the bookcase Charles had Hank bring from his old room upstairs recently. He cleared his throat, because it was still early in the evening, and he had several children to gather for dinner before he had time for a real break. “I’m sure you need to get a few things, but maybe once you’re back we could continue this conversation over dinner.”
“Or even a game of chess afterwards.” Erik said it casually as he set his glass aside, leaning over to pick up the white king, flicking it between his fingers a few times before setting it on the side of the table, as though it had already been captured. Charles watched him and took a small sip of his drink, turning his chair so he could walk Erik down the hallway and toward the front of the house, waving as Sam and Roberto raced down the hallway, their laughter ringing across the high ceilings. Erik followed his gaze, a small smile at the corner of his lips, and then smiled at Charles, warmer than he’d have expected for a man he’d never seen smile in pictures at all.
“That would be lovely. I haven’t had a good game in a long time.” Charles murmured with a sigh that bordered on yearning, because it really had been a long time, and something about Erik made Charles think he’d be a rather good player. None of the other teachers played, and while Charles had been teaching a few of the students, no one had come close to beating him yet. Charles missed playing for hours on end, talking about everything and nothing with someone. He hadn’t done that since … well not for a very long time, anyway, and it was the perfect way to get to know Erik. People showed themselves when they played chess.
“Yes, a little over a year.” Erik mused as he started down the stairway, and Charles watched him go and wondered why he was so sure that Erik was right, when he couldn’t remember playing last year at all.