Chapter 2
Charles couldn’t decide if he thought Erik and Raven were going to come back or not, but he tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. Or he did during dinner, when Warren excitedly told him about how he’d gotten an A on his English project and Jean made all of her silverware dance for Scott and Ororo. It was easy then, when he could focus on the bright eyes and excited voices around him, on comforting Alison when she accidentally set her napkin on fire.
But after dinner and getting the youngest students to bed, Charles was left alone with his thoughts, a state he’d deftly avoided since Raven left. It was harder to do it when she was nearby, her mind calling to him like a siren song. He’d only read it once, but he’d felt the outline of it every day for years before it was snatched away from him. Now it was within his range, and he was ridiculously happy, relieved that she was safe and she was home. But he was also still hurt, the wound of her leaving fresh, the guilt of pushing her away without even realizing it. But wounds healed, and until it did, seeing Raven happy and safe was enough of a balm for it.
Erik was an entirely different story, because with him, Charles shouldn’t feel anything except grateful and wary at his offer to help. Instead he found his mind kept going back to the man and his wry grins and knowing gazes, at the intensity behind his teasing. It made his stomach twist in a way it hadn’t since he was a teenager, and the whole thing was embarrassing. Charles needed to get a hold of himself before Erik came back - except that Charles saw the glint of his helmet through the window. He was out of time.
Charles watched Erik coming down the hallway, a heavy black duffle bag in one hand and a smirk on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He still wore that ridiculous helmet, white space where there should be a mind. It made Charles shiver at the emptiness, at the lack when there was so much life in Erik’s face, the incongruity making him a bit sick. Charles closed his eyes for a second, shaking his head and taking a few deep breaths to push the feeling away. He couldn’t blame Erik for wearing the helmet, when Charles’ powers made him dangerous, so much so that even his closest friends didn’t trust him. Not really. He could hardly expect more from a stranger, even one who fought for mutant rights as fervently as Magneto did. He was still just a man at the end of the day, and there would always be things men feared. Charles was one of them.
Besides, as much as he hated that emptiness, Charles was happy to see Erik make his way down the hallway, every movement easy and sure, gaze sharp and unreadable. The sight of him made something in Charles’ throat catch, and it only got worse when those eyes turned toward him and Erik’s lips twitched. There was something charming about Erik’s face when he smiled, maybe in the way the skin around his eyes crinkled or in how it felt like a prize he’d won. Maybe it was just because he struck Charles as someone who didn’t smile nearly as often as he should, and - And he was more lonely than he’d thought, if he was thinking like this. Charles smiled gingerly at Erik when he finally got to the doorway, lifting his glass of scotch up and tilting his head to the right, hoping he came off as nonchalant. “Erik, you decided to stay.”
“I told you I was coming back.” Erik gave him one of those sardonic grins, barely sparing Charles a glance as he walked past him and over to the makeshift bar where he kept his finest liquor. Erik brushed his hands over each bottle, gaze flicking over them, and Charles thought he saw him frown when a few of them were close to empty. Charles stiffened at that, wrapping his fingers around his own glass a bit more tightly. He wondered if Raven asked him to check, worried that he’d turned to alcohol to dull the pain of her loss and his injury. Erik finally poured himself a glass of scotch, looking over his shoulder at Charles with an even expression. “You should have more faith in people.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to have, my friend.” Charles grinned crookedly before he could think better of it. Erik just frowned at him, and Charles got the strange sensation that he was disappointed in his answer. Charles straightened his shoulders, turning his chair so he was facing Erik without having to turn his head quite so much. “I’m afraid you missed dinner, but the kitchen is always open.”
“I can wait. I was looking forward to beating you in chess.” Erik held his glass out as though in cheers, smirking as he took the seat across from Charles, crossing his legs. He waved his hand through the air and Charles’ portable chess board floated down to the table between them, each piece staying perfectly still on the board. Charles smiled crookedly, not hiding his delight as he watched the metal move. He always enjoyed watching people using their gifts, and meeting someone with as much finesse as Erik was a rare treat.
“I imagine you would.” Charles murmured with a warm smile, picking up one of the white pawns, flicking it between his hands a few times. He glanced at the door to the study, gaze fond as he let himself sink into the warm buzz of his students’ and teachers’ thoughts that was a constant in the back of his mind. “We should be alone for the night, but I can’t promise that one of the students won’t come in with questions or needing a bedtime story.”
“You could just lock the door.” Erik muttered dryly, though there was something akin to affection in his gaze. The intimacy of it made Charles flush and look down at his brandy, the warm brown liquid reflecting his own bemused gaze back at him. “But you’d never do that, would you?”
“Locking your own people out never leads to anything good.” Charles shook his head a bit, glancing back to Erik and moving one of his pieces across the board. Erik met his gaze steadily, moving his own pawn without breaking eye contact. “I would’ve thought you agreed with me on that much.”
“I do, I just thought that you still might need some privacy from time to time. God knows I’ve had to lock your sister out plenty.” Erik let out a low exhale, an exasperated fondness in his voice that made Charles laugh, giving him a knowing look as he captured one of Erik’s pawns.
“Raven never was one to pay attention to locks. But I imagine you have more reasons than me to need them.” Charles grinned playfully at him, tilting his head to the left and wiggling his eyebrows. Erik swallowed a few times, a tightness to his gaze that hadn’t been there a second ago. Charles raised an eyebrow, pressing his hand under his chin as he leaned in toward Erik across the chess board. “Really? You want me to believe that a handsome revolutionary like you doesn’t have any offers?”
Erik gave him a flat look, something akin to hurt flashing across his gaze, but it was quickly replaced with amusement and a restrained bitterness. He moved his next piece, smirking as he gave Charles an almost mocking once over. “As easily as I’m to believe a charming young professor doesn’t.”
“Nearly everyone here works for me, so it’d hardly be appropriate.” Charles shrugged casually, moving his own piece and trying not to let his own hurt shine through. Before the accident, Erik would’ve been exactly his type, discounting them being on somewhat opposite sides. But now Charles wasn’t anyone’s type, and he’d prefer not to see those sharp eyes fill with pity like all the others. “Besides, you’d be surprised at how unimaginative most people are when it comes to sex.”
“Maybe you’re just spending time with the wrong people.” Erik snapped harshly as his piece shot across the board. Charles blinked owlishly at the conviction in Erik’s voice, at the way he stared at Charles with an undercurrent of lust. Charles wondered if maybe that look hadn’t been so mocking after all, and then swiftly pushed the thought aside. Hope like that was dangerous.
“Erik, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting.” Charles murmured with a sly smile, glancing at Erik over the rim of his glass. Erik scoffed, but there was a sadness to his gaze as he captured one of Charles’ knights. Charles wondered if he’d overstepped, if there was a recent break up or a lost love in Erik’s past, the type of heartbreak that festered rather than fading away. He smiled sheepishly and moved one of his pawns, expression shifting into something more calculating. “Now, tell me about your Brotherhood’s next moves. Certainly I can’t fault what you’ve done so far, but I do worry about the future.”
“Afraid we’re going to seduce you and your students into joining the revolution you’re so studiously avoiding?” Erik asked with a hint of a smile, and the way he twisted his mouth around that ‘you’ felt strangely intimate, like it was just for the two of them.
“A little bit, yes.” Charles admitted with a wry smile, reaching for his own glass a little too quickly to be casual. Erik was charismatic in a way that was almost overwhelming, passionate and resolute, his every word like doctrine. Charles pursed his lips and caught himself staring at the way the muscles in Erik’s neck shifted when he swallowed. Charles flicked his gaze back to his ever shrinking collection of pawns, mentally berating himself, because he could hardly let himself be one of the seduced.
“And what side would you be on, when it comes down to it?” Erik set his drink aside, snatching another one of Charles’ pawns, gaze kind in a way his smile decidedly wasn’t.
“The side that keeps the most of us alive, I suppose.” Charles mused softly, hating that his words sounded like a capitulation, at least to his own mind. He wanted to believe that compassion could change the world, that people were inherently good, that he was. But it had been harder since Cuba, his own vision of the future growing more and more blurred by the day. Meanwhile Erik and his brotherhood’s goals seemed clearer than ever.
Erik watched Charles out of the corner of his eye, almost nervously, though Charles suspected that he was never unsure about much of anything. Erik moved his knight in front of his queen, and whatever anxiety was there was replaced with a snarling anger. Still, there was something hopeful in his expression when he finally met Charles’ gaze. “And who are you including as us?”
“Our mutant brothers and sisters, and whatever human allies we have, if there’s a war.” Charles practically spit if at Erik, hating the way he stared at him with a quiet pride, the same way Charles looked at his students when they solved a particularly difficult puzzle. Charles believed that love and science could win out over fear and hatred, that a better world was possible. But Charles also knew that dream might turn out to be mere fantasy, that he had to be prepared to fight society even as he tried to create a space for mutants within it. The missiles had taught him that well enough. “I’m a pacifist by choice, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind if the situation calls for it.”
“That’s not what I expected from you, professor.” Erik said softly, and that infuriating pride was still there, but there was also a relief so palatable that Charles swore he felt it, the helmet be damned. Charles shook his head, not quite meeting Erik’s gaze as he captured one of his knights. Charles held the piece up, running his index finger over the sharp edges and wondering why it felt like he was the one who’d lost something.
“I’m not what most people expect.” Charles admitted with a huff of laughter, giving him a rueful smile. He felt more like himself with Erik somehow, like he’d finally dropped all of his masks. He didn’t have to play at being the compassionate yet distant professor, or the caring and responsible big brother. Erik wasn’t an enemy he needed to fight, or an ally he needed to win over. He could just be Charles with him, and the idea made him smile in spite of himself. “I’m an idealist, not a fool. I believe there’s a future where peace is possible for all of us, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take precautions in case I’m wrong. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“You’ll need more protection than a security system in the long run.” Erik hissed but without any real heat behind it, gaze more concerned than angry as he reached a hand across the chessboard. He ghosted his fingertips along Charles’ wrist, not quite touching them. “They don’t see us as human. Don’t forget that.”
“I don’t imagine you’ll let me.” Charles murmured as he glanced down at where Erik's hand laid next to his own, feeling something twist in his chest at the sight. Their fingers brushed and Erik pulled his hand back with a whispered apology, turning his attention back to their game. Charles was glad for it, because it meant Erik missed the way his tears started burning in the back of his eyes until he wiped them away. He supposed he was lonelier than he’d thought.
Erik found himself at a crossroads at the mansion, Charles somehow finding a new way to be entirely frustrating. Erik expected Charles to be aloof, cautious until he knew for sure that Erik wasn’t a threat to his precious students. Instead he was warm and inviting, much like the Charles who first pulled him out of the water. Charles was all bright eyes and kind smiles, enthusiastically talking about genetics and his students, bringing Erik tea in the morning and sharing little smiles with him across the room when no one else was looking. In some ways it felt like they were picking up right where they left off, and in other ways it just reminded Erik that Charles didn’t remember any of that, didn’t know that Erik liked coffee first or that he loved the way Charles’ eyes lit up whenever he talked about his work.
Where Charles had learned to be wary was with humanity, and wasn’t that a slap in the face? Erik had left because he thought their dreams were irreconcilable, when all he’d needed to do was give Charles time. Though maybe not. Maybe Charles’ wariness came from whatever fantasy he’d replaced Erik with on Cuba, one of the soldiers on the boats or Moira shooting him in the back instead of his lover. Charles’ pain-addled mind would’ve easily traded one person he loved leaving for another, and Charles seemed determined to love every human he met. Or maybe the memory of those missiles aimed at all of them was enough, the fear and anger that must have been emanating off the others when they saw that Charles was wrong. Maybe Erik had nothing to do with it at all.
Erik shook the thought away, because none of that mattered. Not unless Charles decided to remember. For now what mattered was making this school safe for the students and livable for Charles. And to do any of that, he’d need Charles by his side again, at least for a little while. That was proving more difficult than he’d expected, because it seemed like Charles never gave himself a break. He’d had several classes in a row, one minute teaching a gaggle of teenagers about physics, then two or three students of varying ages about how to fly, and then he was taken up with teaching a group of younger children their letters.
Erik could understand better now why someone with Charles’ mind and talents would want a school. He was good at teaching, guiding each student carefully and with a personalized touch, so each one left the classroom a bit more confident than they were at the start of class. And more than that, it made Charles happy, his face lighting up every time a student understood a problem or figured out a new way to harness their powers. He was far more in his element here than playing spy or on a battlefield. “You’re spying on me.”
“I don’t have much to do here until we talk more. I figured I might as well see how you run your school.” Erik muttered in a clipped voice, meeting Charles’ amused gaze with a flat look of his own. He should’ve known Charles would find a way to sense him even without the benefit of his powers. He always was annoying like that. “How many classes do you teach, Charles? You have to leave something for Hank and the others.”
“Admittedly I always wanted to teach, so I haven’t left much room in my schedule for anything else except Cerebro.” Charles said with a smile that was just casual enough that it had to be forced. Erik was sure Charles did teach too many classes, but he suspected Cerebro was the reason for the circles under his eyes and the way he’d caught his hands shaking every so often. It explained the mostly full scotch bottles in the kitchen. Who needed alcohol when they had a drug especially tailored to how their mind worked? “Besides, with teaching them how to best harness their powers, we have twice as many classes as most schools do.”
“Still, you should take more breaks. You look exhausted.” Erik chided in a low voice, catching the way Charles glanced down the hallway toward where the kitchen was, and Erik suspected that Cerebro must lay a few doors down. He wondered if he could destroy it while setting up the security system and claim it was an accident. The students here hardly needed a teacher who was physically and mentally exhausting himself playing lab rat with stolen equipment.
“Yes, because I’m sure you take lots of time off from your revolution.” Charles scoffed at him, shooting him a pointed look out of the corner of his eye. Erik just raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the right, gaze considering. He could point out that he was taking one right now, but they both knew that wasn’t technically true, not with the late night phone calls he made or with how strongly he was trying to get Charles to switch sides.
“Maybe not.” Erik admitted with a quick roll of his shoulders, smirking as he leaned against the door frame, legs crossed at the ankles. He gazed over at Charles with half-lidded eyes, losing himself in time for a second when Charles pursed his lips and widened his eyes, the same way he did the before Erik kissed him for the first time. “Still, could I tempt you to have lunch with me, assuming Hank or Raven could take your next class on wall-climbing.”
“That depends.” Charles grinned at him as he pushed himself past Erik and through the doorway, though Erik caught the way Charles gave him a sly once over. Though given how Charles turned to face him again, grinning impishly and looking up at him through his eyelashes, he suspected he was meant to. “Is this lunch for business or pleasure?”
“I don’t see why it can’t be both.” Erik answered as he gestured for Charles to lead the way, his lips quirking into a half-smile. Charles chuckled softly, shaking his head and shooting Erik a bemused look, and he supposed he wasn’t what this Charles expected either. The thought made something twist in his chest, and he didn’t meet Charles’ gaze again until they were on the veranda.
******
Erik swallowed back a sigh as he watched Charles pick at his salad without actually taking any bites. It had been like this before whenever he used Cerebro too much, losing his appetite entirely. It wasn’t at a worrying point yet. Charles looked healthier than ever, if anything. Though with how vain Charles could be, this could be an ill-advised attempt at a diet, especially since Erik thought Charles looked even better than before. He had sinewy muscles in his arm and chest, a thin layer of softness to his face that suited him and matched his bright eyes. All of it made him seem less fragile.
Erik tried not to stare at Charles too much, gaze instead locked on the gate in front of him, pretending to find weaknesses he’d actually discovered months ago. He’d been planning on adding a security system before everything went to hell, and it was only more of a prerogative now that there were actual children here.
“You need sensors along the gates and down the driveway. Maybe further along the grounds if you're willing to break property laws.” Erik mused with a playful grin as he took a rather purposeful bite of his sandwich, giving Charles salad a pointed look. Charles rolled his eyes, taking a ridiculously small bite. He wrinkled his nose as he chewed, and Erik wondered how Charles managed to screw up something as simple as a salad. “The metal necessary to make a helmet like this isn’t easy to find, but that doesn’t mean someone with enough connections and money could find it.”
“And you think those people want to come after a harmless school teacher?” Charles asked with a raised eyebrow, a playful twist to his lips as he took a sip of his tea.
“One who can steal government secrets and erase their memories?” Erik practically hissed, giving Charles a flat look, because now was hardly the time for jokes. Not when they reminded Erik so much of before, when Charles would whisper them in his mind from across the house, each syllable having its own unique rhythm and flavor. Erik pressed a hand under his chin, giving Charles a more considering look. Now also wasn’t the time because Charles was in fact a threat, arguably a far worse one than Erik, and the government knew where he was. “I’m surprised they haven’t already locked you up.”
“The part where I can erase memories would be why.” Charles grinned brightly at him, his eyes just a touch smug as he held his cup out toward the grounds. It felt as though he was pointing at the ghost of Moira and the other agents that used to saunter through the gardens here, unwanted by everyone but Charles. Then his expression changed, abashed and almost embarrassed as he refused to meet Erik’s gaze. “I trust they have no memory of this house or where it’s located, nor a clear image of anyone’s faces.” Charles told him without quite meeting his gaze.
“Not quite so moral with your powers then.” Erik couldn’t help the way he smirked, giving Charles another once over, appreciating the grimace that looked more embarrassed to be caught than guilty. Less fragile indeed.
“It’s not wrong to protect your own.” Charles whispered softly, giving Erik a pleading look as he reached a hand out toward across the table, fingers curling inward slightly. It was as though he was willing Erik to understand, when he was the one who always had. Charles was the one who limited himself.
Erik gave him a knowing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, staring at those slender fingers still hanging in the air between them. If he was a little more daring, he’d slide his own between them, remind Charles how they used to surreptitiously hold hands under the table. Instead he merely cocked his head to the right and looked past Charles and back to the gate. “And you think the government is something to protect your students from?”
“The beach made me think that good portions of it might be, even if there are a few exceptions.” Charles didn’t quite meet his gaze, lips pursed and shoulders pulling in on themselves. Erik swore he could almost feel the grief radiating off of Charles, still raw despite the months that had passed. Charles shook his head a bit then, looking at Erik out of the corner of his eye and smiling in a way that was far too bitter for Charles. “Now enough of you trying to get me to admit you’re right, tell me what else you’d add to the gates.”
“An alarm system if anyone breaks it, one that wakes you and Hank up, and anyone else you think would be useful in an emergency. Not in the hallways though, where the people breaking in could hear it. You want the element of surprise.” Erik listed off easily, imagining how they would lay the wires underground, how they’d send signals straight to Charles and Hank’s rooms, maybe Alex’s too, now that he thought about it. He’d be quicker to take down a threat than either of them.
Charles frowned softly, knitting his eyebrows together as he pressed one hand under his chin. His thumb brushed against his bottom lip, the fresh callouses drawing Erik’s gaze in spite of himself. “Hmm, but what about the students?”
“I assume you and your little protege would tell them they were in danger.” Erik waved him off with his right hand, glancing back at the school and not at Charles’ ridiculous mouth. He’d heard all about Jean, one of the younger students that Charles doted on, a telekinetic and telepath much too serene for her age. But maybe that was just a trait all telepaths shared, their powers muting their emotions before they could even properly understand them. “But it would be good if they had easy access to those underground bunkers.”
“The elevator could help with that, if we made it inconspicuous enough and put it near the student’s quarters.” Charles mused, relief coming into his gaze as he took another long sip of his tea. Erik frowned, narrowing his gaze a bit because he’d already scouted out the layout of the school. The students’ rooms were nowhere near Charles' old rooms or his current, much less comfortable one on the first floor. He wouldn’t be any better off than before that way.
“I thought you’d want it by yours.” Erik glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep his expression neutral, even as he felt concern slipping in at the corners. It would look like anger to someone who didn’t know him well though, and this Charles didn’t know him at all. Charles didn’t seem put off though, simply shaking his head.
“That would be nice, but the students’ safety comes before my comfort. Besides, having a room on the first floor means I can sleep in a bit later before my first class.” Charles smiled serenely, holding his hands together. Erik raised an eyebrow, because Charles couldn’t sleep in even if he wanted to, sensitive both to the sun and all the minds around him. It was a weak excuse, and there was no reason for it. Well, no reason except that Charles seemed to want to play the martyr, putting his own needs aside for what he decided was the greater good.
That was new. Erik wondered when that had started and why no one else had put a stop to it. But then Erik supposed they didn’t notice the tension in Charles’ smiles, or the way he glanced up at the balcony to their old bedroom wistfully every so often. “Or you could just have two elevators. We’d have to make some structural changes to the house, but between Hank and I, I don’t think it would be too difficult.”
“It’s really not necessary.” Charles murmured in a low voice, looking a bit put out at Erik’s words. He pressed his lips into a thin line, wrinkling his nose a bit. A second ago he’d looked wise beyond his years, but now he looked more like the real Charles, adorable and too stubborn to admit when he was wrong.
“It is if it makes your life better, Charles.” Erik corrected him gently, and this time he couldn’t resist the urge to reach his hand out and brush his fingers along the inside of his wrist. Charles blinked owlishly, glancing down at where Erik’s thumb pressed against his pulse, cheeks flushing and mouth hanging open slightly. Still, he didn’t pull his hand away, and Erik felt emboldened, brushing his thumb in a circular motion against his skin.
Charles shivered and shut his eyes for a second, pressing his wrist back into his thumb. For a second time stopped, and then Charles pulled his hand back, blinking owlishly. He gave Erik an apologetic look, cheeks still flushed, as though he was the one who’d overstepped. How very Charles of him. “All right, but it might mean you have to stay here a bit longer.”
“Lucky then that the room next to you is empty then.” Erik held his glass up as though in cheers, smirking when Charles followed suit a second later, a familiar spark in his gaze, though a bit more hesitant than it had been before. Erik would have to fix that too.
Charles felt a little bit like he was losing his mind every time he talked to Erik, even if it was in the most captivating way possible. He wasn’t what he’d had expected at all. Charles knew he was appealing in a sort of dangerous way, words concise and passionate, expression often one of barely restrained fury. Except fury wasn’t the right word, not exactly. Certainly Erik was angry, but there was conviction to his rage, a protectiveness that moved Charles in spite of himself. Charles always thought there was a goodness to the man, that his zeal came from a place of love for his mutant brothers and sisters. He could respect that, even if he didn’t think it was entirely necessary.
But in person, Erik was so much more than the Magneto that Charles saw on the news. Erik cared so deeply about his fellow mutants, watched over the students with the same pride and wonder as Charles himself. At first from a distance, but soon Charles caught him answering the children’s eager questions and making them little metal figurines, a quiet warmth coming over Erik that he suspected no one else saw. Erik had a wicked sense of humor, dry quips or half-smiles when he caught Charles’ gaze across the hallway, as though they were sharing an inside joke Charles didn’t remember. Erik liked to have both coffee and tea in the mornings, enjoyed cooking when he had the chance, and flicked his gaze across the paper like a typewriter when he read.
Charles knew all these things, watched Erik with far too much intensity and probably not nearly enough vigilance, all things considered. It was embarrassing and probably more than a little off-putting for Erik, though he didn’t seem to mind. No, if anything he seemed amused by Charles’ attention, laughing whenever he caught him watching him out of the corner of his eye or how he flushed when Erik smiled in that particular way of his. But then, maybe he just thought it was funny that Charles had a crush on him.
Charles felt Raven approaching long before she finally got to his room, leaning against the doorframe in the old robe he thought she’d left behind in Oxford. He was sitting in bed already, a book he’d been pretending to read spread out across his lap. She tilted her head to the right, expression unsure. It hurt to see her hesitating, especially when she used to take personal space for granted. Charles waved her in with one hand, trying to keep his own nerves from showing. Raven gingerly walked inside, kicking his door shut with her right foot and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Charles met her gaze out of the corner of his eye and gave her a wan smile. “I see why you went with Erik. he’s quite convincing.”
“If only you’d decided that earlier.” Raven rolled her eyes, looking more than little put out, which Charles hardly thought was fair. It wasn’t his fault that he’d only met Erik in the past few weeks, and it wasn’t as though he agreed with him. Not entirely, anyway, though more than he wanted to. It was dangerous to let himself feel that way, to hope for things that were outside of his grasp. He’d done that once before and it was how he found himself choking on sand and the taste of metal. Raven must have caught something in his gaze, because she leaned over then, expression far too wise for his liking. “You like him. You think he’s charming and handsome and serious in that way you’ve always admired.”
“Of course I do, but it doesn’t matter. Someone like him isn’t going to be interested in me like that.” Charles said with a huff of laughter, because he knew men like Erik. Well, no, because he suspected there weren’t other men like Erik, but that didn’t change anything. Erik was passionate and strong, elegant in his righteous fury. Charles was a school teacher who was becoming increasingly unsure of his dreams and his powers, who’d lost the easy confidence that let him charm his suitors. “You don’t have to fake disbelief for my sake, Raven. I imagine I wasn’t his type before the accident, and now -”
“He likes you, Charles. Trust me, I know him, I know what he looks like when he wants someone. That hasn’t -” Raven cut herself off with a low exhale, flexing her hands a few times as she gave Charles a disbelieving look. Charles just shrugged helplessly, because while he didn’t see any pity in Erik’s gaze, he also didn’t want to discover it when they were in bed together and he finally got that ridiculous helmet off. It would be quite the turn-off. “He likes you just as much now as he would’ve before.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” Charles turned his gaze away from Raven and down towards where his fingers were tapping along the spine of his book with a cadence that could best be described as discordant. Raven had said it with an evenness that meant Erik might find him attractive, but could also mean that he wouldn’t have in the first place. He supposed it didn’t matter, especially when he knew Erik was just going to leave. The idea made something twist in Charles’ chest, sharp and fiery, and his gaze finally snapped back to Raven. Raven, whose gaze was watery and who looked like she didn’t know if she wanted to hug him or smack him. It was a bit much, for an ill-advised crush. “What are you so worried about? I’m trying not to read your mind, but it’s difficult when you're projecting your anxiety so strongly.”
“I don’t want either of you to make mistakes you can’t take back.” Raven’s voice was barely more than a whisper, leaning in toward him as though she were sharing a secret she didn’t want to be overhead. Charles raised an eyebrow, just barely resisting the urge to point out that he didn’t make those types of mistakes. Raven furrowed her brow as though she’d somehow heard his thought, wrinkling her nose as she held his gaze. “You and Erik, you want different things, Charles.”
“I’m not sure that we do. Not entirely, anyway.” Charles admitted without quite meeting her gaze, smile rueful as he ran his thumb up and down the spine of the book. He’d always hated admitting he might be wrong, especially when a part of him was still sure he was right. But then he thought about the way Erik looked when he talked about the future they could have, and the way the sand had dug into his spine, like a thousand little pricks, and that dream died little by little. But Erik … Erik made him feel hopeful again, even if he didn’t know why. “We both want a future where our mutant brothers and sisters are safe to live freely and embrace their powers. We just have different means of getting there.”
“Yeah, the means are kind of the problem, Charles.” Raven snapped, teeth bared and eyes flashing, her concern replaced with frustration. It was the same expression she’d made the night before Cuba, when she’d already left him, even if she didn’t know it yet. “You’re not willing to fight for the future you want us to have, because then maybe people would stop liking you, and God forbid people not like Charles Xavier.”
“Oh please, Raven, you’re my own sister and you don’t even like my mutation.” Charles’s words slipped out before he could think better of it, his voice cutting and hurt in a way he hadn’t known he was before now. Charles closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to push his emotions back down where they belonged. He didn’t want to be angry at Raven, and God knew they’d both made mistakes when it came to that. His expression was kinder when he looked at her again, but his gaze was still wounded. “You don’t. You find my powers just as terrifying as all those humans do.”
“I was wrong, Charles.” Raven said softly and he felt her remorse, genuine and a little raw. He tried to pull his mind back, not wanting to overstep, and Raven pressed her thoughts against his, a soothing touch against the blocks he’d had up for over a decade. Oh. She was inviting him to touch her mind, to let her be part of the symphony in the back of his head. Charles didn’t try to stop the tears welling up in the back of his eyes, sliding one hand out to grasp hers in a silent ‘thank you’. He spread his own regret for not making sure she knew she was beautiful, for always saying the wrong thing, when he never wanted her to be anyone but herself. Raven smiled at him, shaky and hopeful, and Charles supposed this was what forgiveness felt like. Then her gaze shifted, protective and tighter than before. “But that’s the difference. I know I was wrong now and I’m sorry. They’re not going to be. They never are.”
Charles shook his head and pursed his lips, because she wasn’t entirely wrong. There were people who’d always be afraid of them, of him. But there were people like Moira too, who looked at them and saw something incredible. Charles had to believe they were in the majority. There was simply no other option. “You can’t know that unless we try. We have to give people a chance to be better than they are.”
“And how many chances are you willing to give them?” Raven asked in a low voice, words sure that he was making a mistake, but also protective, almost like she wouldn’t let him. Charles scoffed at the idea, as if anyone could stop him. He pulled his hands back as the moment faded, both of them still dancing around the same line that he and Erik were.
“That depends on the person. But you and Erik will be happy to hear I’m willing to give the people I love plenty.” Charles’s words were clipped, but he couldn’t stop the affection from slipping into his voice, the hope. Raven nodded sharply and climbed off the edge of his bed. She gave him a bemused look when she got to the door, lips pursed before she finally slammed it behind her.
It was then that Charles realized he’d included Erik among people he loved, and flushed, pressing his book against his face as though Asimov would absorb his embarrassment, letting it bleed out across the page instead. This crush was really getting out of hand. He wasn’t - he couldn’t be in love with someone he’d just met, even if Erik made him feel happy in a way he hadn’t been since Cuba.
*****
Charles told himself over and over again that his feelings for Erik were nothing more than a crush exacerbated by his own loneliness, and it was easy enough to believe when he was alone or teaching. It was more difficult when he was with Erik in his study late into the night, playing chess and the conversation readily flowed throughout the night. Though actually, it was more that Charles was rambling about genetics with an enthusiasm he usually hid, knowing it wasn’t one of his more appealing qualities. But Erik listened to every word eagerly, asked question after question, even playfully debated some of Charles’ theories. It felt far too comfortable, but Charles couldn’t bring himself to mind.
Or it did until Erik brought up the manor. They were at a bit of an impasse there. Erik wanted to change so much, expand the hallways and add more pathways through the courtyards, and to fix some of the temperature issues they had due to the house being so old. Charles didn’t feel the need to change much of anything, especially when the students and the teachers here seemed perfectly happy. Charles looked over at the notes Erik was making, pressing his mouth into a thin line when he saw he was changing yet another room’s layout. “You don’t need to redesign the entire school, you know. Outside of needing some more high tech security, this house has lasted for over a century.”
“And seemingly hasn’t been updated in one either.” Erik gave a pointed look over to the wall paper, peeling slightly In the corners and the innate bookcase, too heavy for anyone except Hank to even attempt lifting. Charles just rolled his eyes, because his study had character. Going by his helmet, Erik probably preferred some hideous modern design, where everything was made out of plastic and steel. “There are hundreds of little changes you can make so this school is more welcoming.”
“I’ve always found it welcoming enough as it is.” Charles smiled softly, glancing over at his desk affectionately. There was a photo of him and Raven from their first day of Oxford, held up by the Supergirl figurine Jean had given him for his birthday, both alongside notes from Hank and papers he hadn’t gotten around to grading yet. Charles wished he could show Erik what it looked like when he was little, covered in empty bottles, his stepfather sitting behind it and looking at him with disgust. The house was so much more alive now, so much more his than it had been before it was a school, in a way Charles couldn’t put into words. But Charles wouldn’t ask Erik to take his helmet off. Trust like that had to be given freely, or it didn’t matter at all. Erik shook his head, watching Charles with a fond exasperation that made him shiver in spite of himself. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“If you have, it’s only because you’re not being creative enough.” Erik’s voice was softer than Charles would’ve expected, and he moved his chess piece with a flick of his hand. Then he added a note about a ramp by the gazebo, and Charles wondered if Raven had told him about how Charles used to sit out there and read in the summer, watching the wind weave in and out of the willow trees. He wouldn’t have expected her to be so sentimental. “I don’t think that’s your problem though. I think you just don’t like to ask for help, because you’re used to having everything.”
“Tell me Erik, has insulting people usually gotten them to give in and agree with you?” Charles raised an eyebrow, playfully, smiling impishly as he captured one of Erik’s knights with flourish. Erik wasn’t entirely wrong. Charles liked to be doted on when he had the right partner, but he’d never been good at letting anyone else take care of him. It didn’t seem right, when Charles had always had more than enough of everything growing up. He was the one who took care of people, who bore their suffering and helped them find a way to channel their powers into something meaningful. He didn’t - couldn’t - need someone to do that for him. “Because I think you’ll find that I’m not so easily swayed.”
“No, I didn’t imagine that you were.” Erik said with a shrug, grinning as he captured another pawn from Charles, decorating the edge of the table with all the pieces he’d won from him so far. Charles lost to Erik plenty, but he’d won just as often, the two of them being a match when it came to that particular game. It made Charles wish they could be a match in other things, that it meant something when Erik leaned in across the table and brushed his fingers along Charles’ wrist, not quite touching the thin line of skin that peeked out beneath his cardigan. Charles bit his lip but didn’t pull his hand away, just watched Erik swallow down the last of his drink. “But really, there’s no shame in admitting you’re the one who needs help just because you’re usually the one giving it.”
“And what makes you think that I want your help with anything besides the elevator?” Charles tilted his head to the right, smirking playfully and feeling hope bloom in his chest despite knowing better. Erik was - Erik was going to leave, go back to his Brotherhood and his war. He didn’t need Charles the way Charles needed his protection, the assurance that Erik wouldn’t let his war destroy the school. Wanting his help for anything beyond that was asking too much of anyone, let alone a stranger.
“Because you won’t let any of your fellow students or teachers help you, and you’re going to have to let someone in sooner or later. It might as well be me.” Erik murmured as he took another sip of his whiskey, not breaking eye contact with Charles as he swallowed. His gaze was full of conviction, like he wanted Charles to trust him, to need him and want to need him. The idea was oddly compelling, or it would be if Erik could offer him the same trust, the same desire to be a part of his life. But that was impossible as long as Erik wore that helmet. Charles took a small sip of his own drink, stomach still a bit queasy from his afternoon session with Cerebro. Charles felt disconnected from his body and his own feelings, but then that wasn’t so bad. He was free from his own emotions, not worrying about all the people he hadn’t helped yet or that Raven left, or how he woke up sometimes and felt an emptiness he couldn’t explain. When he was on Cerebro, he wasn’t a person but a mind, detached and free from pain. It was easier than being the Charles who was upset at a glorified hat.
“Even though I still don’t know if you’re a friend or an enemy?” Charles asked with a wry smile, moving one of his pawns without glancing at the board. That wasn’t the game that mattered. It never had been.
Erik shot him an unimpressed look, capturing the pawn with a flick of his hand. He brushed his hand along the inside of Charles’ wrist again, and Charles swallowed and looked away, because there was no way to be smooth, not when Erik kept casually touching him like it was his right. Erik slid his hand away then, and Charles ignored the way his stomach dropped, like he’d done something wrong. He hadn’t, or if he did, he couldn't remember, and Charles remembered everything. Erik captured one of his pawns, smirk far too knowing as he lined them up one by one, almost like he was gently mocking Charles. “If you thought I was an enemy I wouldn’t be here in the first place, and certainly not with this helmet on.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Charles admitted with a half-smile, gaze considering as he ran his hand up and down one of his knights, metal cool against his skin. If he’d ever thought Erik posed a danger to his students, or even that he might bring the government here, Charles would’ve sent him away without so much as a second thought. But Erik had only tried to protect them, and that meant Charles saw him as an ally. That Erik treated him like an equal rather than a threat or someone to underestimate was just icing on the cake. “So, as my friend, what exactly do you think I need help with, Erik?”
“Letting people in for one, trusting them enough to know your weaknesses, so they can keep your enemies from exploiting them. Someone to remind you that you have needs, rather that means lunch or a few hours to yourself.” Erik gave him a rather pointed look, as though taking in the dark circle under his eyes or the way Charles had only picked at his dinner. Charles shrugged helplessly, because he couldn’t exactly argue with Erik. It was far too easy to give all of his energy to his students and sessions with Cerebro, especially when it meant Charles could ignore everything that happened since Cuba, all the things he hadn’t even known he had taken for granted until they were gone. Erik took his silence for the answer it was, making a few more notes on his pad, more scribbles than words. “We can widen some of the doorways and smooth out the floors in a few more places too. I’ll need some help with that, unless you’re willing to let me put metal everywhere.”
“I’d trust you not to take advantage of it, but I can’t say it’d be aesthetically pleasing.” Charles let out a low sigh, lips pursed as he tried to imagine every hallway lined with metal. It was cold and uninviting, a bit like the prison where he’d found Alex. He remembered how tense they’d all been that day, the way … who had he gone to collect him with? Not Moira, they’d decided from the start that it would be just mutants connecting with one another, not the government. Raven. It must have been.
“And someone who dresses like my grandfather cares about aesthetics?” Erik scoffed in a low voice, pulling Charles away from the fog around his memories and back to the present. Charles couldn’t help pouting a bit, tugging on the edge of his sleeve. His cardigans and sweater vests were quite nice, even if they were chosen more for comfort than for style. Erik laughed then, warm and echoing across the room, as though his emotions couldn’t be contained in such a small space. “Don’t look so put out, Charles. It’s not like you don’t have that face.”
Charles swallowed a bit at that, flushing in spite of himself as stole a glance at Erik. Charles had been indifferent to his looks before Cuba, but now he couldn’t escape the mirror as often as he’d liked. He’d had to relearn his body over the past few months, gained sinewy muscles in his arms and upper chest and calluses on his once soft hands. But somehow his face also seemed different when he looked in the mirror, even if he couldn’t pinpoint why, couldn’t decide if he liked the change or not. But Erik was looking at him nonchalantly, as though Charles’ attractiveness had never been in question. Charles finally smirked, looking up at Erik through his eyelashes and hoping his words were coy enough to hide his nerves. “Erik, are you saying you like my face?”
“It’s not terrible to look at.” Erik said in a low voice, not meeting his gaze for a second as he hurriedly moved one of his pawns. But then Erik finally looked at Charles, and the lust in Erik’s gaze as he raked over Charles’ face and the slender lines of his neck were obvious even with the helmet. Charles flushed and looked down at the board, making a disastrous move with one of his knights so he could brush his hands against Erik’s palm. Maybe the changes weren’t so bad after all.
Erik knew that he was taking too many liberties with Charles, letting their hands touch too often and sharing too many meaningful looks, little jokes Charles seemed to remember then he should. It was dangerous, when he didn’t know how he felt or what Charles would do if he remembered their past, but he couldn’t help it. Being with Charles was as natural as the feel of metal, something pulling him toward the other man even when he was trying to resist. That, and Charles sought his company out, invited him to play chess after classes, sat next to him at dinner, and invited him for early breakfasts out on the veranda. Erik couldn’t find it in himself to say no to any of those invitations, not when they came from Charles.
Charles, who was currently staring out across the courtyard, his eyes shining and mouth twitching with silent laughter. Erik followed his gaze and found a blonde boy with white wings chasing after Abigail, their laughter ringing through the air. The boy flapped his wings back and forth a few times, and every so often his feet lifted off the ground, only for him to stumble back to the earth a few seconds later. Abigail would come to a stop every time and offer him a hand, flowers blooming in the shape of her footprints. She looked happy, free and open, and nothing like the child he’d rescued a few weeks ago. Bringing them here had been the right choice, the only choice. Charles caught his eye then, smiling softly as he reached a hand out toward Erik, resting it on the table between them. “The new security system seems to be working well. Hank clocked me every single time I stuck my hand through the picket.”
“Then we can start on one of the elevators.” Erik smiled a bit stiffly, because he’d hoped the security system would take a bit longer. The elevators would take weeks, maybe even months, but he needed more time. Erik still wasn’t sure if he was in love with Charles or if Charles was just well, Charles. What he did know was that he never felt more himself than when he was with him, grounded and sure, happy in a way he didn’t think he was allowed to be. The connection between them hadn’t been dimmed, not by time or distance or what Charles was pretending to forget. The only thing missing was Charles’ presence in his mind, soothing and warm and something he was ashamed he’d ever tried to deny him. But he wouldn’t take the helmet off, not until he was sure Charles could handle their memories. “I assume you’ll insist on the one for the students first?”
“Of course. Their safety will always be paramount.” Charles’ gaze flicked back to the yard, where another child with blue hair had joined Abigail and the winged boy in their game, running circles around them and digging up the flowers Abigail had made. Charles smiled at Erik, small and almost boyish, clasping his hands together as though trying to force them to stay still. It reminded Erik of how Charles had looked the first night they met, when Charles had lingered by his door with wide eyes and pursed lips, and Erik really had no choice but to kiss him. “I imagine the elevators will take a bit longer than the security system?”
“Considerably, we’ll have to change the physical structure of the building.” Erik said carefully, watching for any shift in Charles’ expression, either excitement or wariness. He tried to keep his expression neutral, tried not to let his own hope show. Optimism was Charles’ forte. “Why, sick of your house guests already?”
“Quite the opposite. It’s nice having Raven home, and I’ve missed having someone to play chess with.” Charles smiled crookedly, picking at his half-eaten scone, meeting Erik’s gaze with a look that bordered on yearning. Erik could understand that. He’d missed their chess matches as well, the long nights spent debating philosophy and literature, or the times Charles would abandon the game halfway through to kiss Erik instead. Just as much, Erik missed when they’d sat by the fire and read together, Charles’ head finding its way to his shoulder or his lap more often than not. Except Charles didn’t miss those things, didn’t miss Erik . Or, maybe - but no, just because Charles looked at him like that didn’t mean he remembered. It just meant those looks weren’t quite as special as Erik had thought. Charles nudged his shoulder with his own, and Erik looked over at him, wondering idly when they’d moved so close together. “But doesn’t your Brotherhood miss you?”
Erik let out a bark of laughter, lips curling up in spite of himself. Of course Charles imagined all of them having breakfast together, Erik scrambling eggs for everyone and Angel teasing Raven as she stole her toast. It was the future he’d always wanted, a family of mutants, a community. Erik and the Brotherhood existed so Charles could have that, could protect and guide the next generations. They were both necessary for the future, but Charles hadn’t understood that before. Erik thought he was starting to now, little by little. “We don’t all live together like a happy family. Raven and I usually stay together, but the others have their own lives outside of our work.”
“So then you wouldn’t be opposed to staying?” Charles asked with a wide smile, his eyes lighting up with delight as he laid one hand out across the table. The other one came to rest under his chin, his thumb brushing the corner of his mouth the same way Erik used to before he kissed him. Erik wanted to look away but couldn’t, holding Charles’ gaze and wondering idly what would happen if he kissed him now, if he’d open his eyes like Briar Rose, the distance in his eyes ebbing away and replaced with affection. Or maybe nothing would happen, because this wasn’t a fairy tale and Charles wasn’t under anyone’s curse but his own.
“Of course not, it gives me time to change your mind.” Erik grinned, wide and shark-like, and Charles let out a huff of laughter, cheeks flushing a bit. Erik slid his hand out across the table, letting it rest on top of Charles’ own, thumb ghosting over his wrist. Charles didn’t pull his hand away, and Erik knew he should, but instead he just let it rest on top of Charles’ own, their fingers tangling together as they watched the courtyard fill with students, their voices far too loud for this early in the morning. Erik could get used to this, and that thought made him let go of Charles’ hand, muttering a quick apology.
****
Erik spent the rest of the day going over the layout of the school with Hank, who treated him with a terse politeness, giving Erik long notes about what he could and could not move, where they could connect wires and different designs for elevators he wanted Erik to show Charles later. He was short and annoyed with him, but then he’d been that way before Cuba too. Erik and Hank were always a bit at odds, their personalities and beliefs clashing. It was almost better now, Hank’s view on mutations and acceptance more aligned with Erik’s now that he wasn’t trying to hide. Hank was wary about his relationship with Charles, but he seemed to realize it wasn’t his place to interfere.
Erik wished he could say the same for Sean and Alex. Sean seemed convinced that they should be together, pushing students aside gently so Erik could sit next to Charles at breakfast, or offering to take over a class so they could have some quality time in the study. Sean wiggled his eyebrows when he said it, and Charles just shot him blank looks and went back to whatever he’d been doing without so much as a word. It was humiliating, but not nearly as frustrating as Alex. Alex, who kept shooting him dirty looks across the hallway, who burst into the study without warning at all hours of the night, and who’d told Charles that Erik loved the beach out of nowhere one morning.
Alex, who’d followed Erik out onto the veranda that night when he was just trying to enjoy a cigarette. Erik turned to meet Alex’s tight stare, giving him a wan half-smile when he just crossed his arms and glared at him, mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Why do you want to change his mind so badly? You have your own telepath.” Alex hissed in a low voice as he stalked toward Erik, eyes flashing and distrust practically radiating off of him. Erik just scoffed before he could think better of it, because Emma Frost didn’t belong to anyone or any team, and even if she did, it certainly wasn’t going to be his. He’d never want anyone as his except Charles. No, he and Emma had enough interests in common to work together more often than not, but Emma made it clear she’d betray him given half the chance. Erik supposed he couldn’t hold it against her, after Russia. Alex gave him a considering look, lips curling into something a bit less hostile. “Sean thinks it’s because you’re in love with the Prof.”
“I take it you don’t?” Erik didn’t bother looking at him as he lit his cigarette, watching as little rings of smoke floated through the air. Charles had taught him how to make them one night on the balcony, sitting on his lap and blowing smoke in his mouth. He didn’t smoke anymore, waving Erik off when he asked him if he wanted to join him on the veranda most nights. It gave Erik time to reflect, to try and understand the way he was drawn to Charles and his compassion, to that arrogant naivety that survived in spite of everything. Except for tonight, when he was apparently out of time, suddenly on Alex’s schedule instead of his own.
“You wouldn’t have left if you did.” Alex’s voice was heated, lips twisting into something like a snarl as he jabbed a finger against Erik’s chest. Erik didn’t react beyond letting out another puff of smoke, dropping his cigarette on the floor and pressing the heel of his boot against it. Alex rolled his eyes, glancing up at the window to Raven’s old room, expression hardening for a moment. Then he turned his gaze back to Erik. “Either of you.”
Erik shook his head, giving him a sharp look and trying to bury the guilt he felt rising in his chest, ugly and burning his esophagus. The way the innings along the wall shook made him think he wasn’t doing a good job of it. “Charles told us to go.”
“And why did you decide that the best time to start listening to him was when you’d pushed a coin through his skull and he’d been shot?” Alex threw his arms out, voice growing a bit louder with each word, hurt starting to bleed through the rage now. Of course. Alex wasn’t mad because of what he’d done on the beach, didn’t care about the missiles or Erik’s means to a better future. He was angry because in his mind, Erik abandoned all of them when things got tough, just like his family had done, first to him and then to his little brother. Charles had taken them both in and given them compassion, a home. He was Alex’s guardian angel, and Erik was the asshole step-father who’d broken their little family in two. “You didn’t think that his judgment was impaired by that, just a little?”
“Charles seemed fine.” Erik’s voice was little more than a whisper, the lie he’d been telling himself for months slipping from his lips as easily as ever. Charles hadn’t been fine. He’d been off since the coin went through his skull, something jerky to his movements and his thoughts muddled. If they hadn’t been, he would’ve sent all those men on the boats away before they could launch a single missile, instead of wasting his time trying to fight with Erik. and after the bullet, well Erik had seen the the way his lip trembled, the confusion in his gaze when he told them to go, the way he didn’t try to argue with either of them, not really, when Charles never stopped talking. And that was all before the shock set in.
“Charles always seems fine.” Alex mumbled, frustration bleeding into every syllable. Erik just tilted his head to the right, because he couldn’t argue with that. Charles loved to pretend nothing was wrong, to suffer in silence until he found a way to fix his problems on his own. Alex had likely seen the worst of that particular trait in the first few months after Cuba. Alex had brought his hands back to his sides, clenched into fists now and glowing a soft red as he met Erik’s gaze steadily. “You didn’t come back. Not for the surgeries or months of physical therapy. Not for coming home and having to relearn the house.”
“He didn’t remember me by then.” Erik reminded him flatly, meeting his gaze evenly. Alex didn’t need or want his regret. He wanted to yell, to let his fury over the situation out, and Erik couldn’t blame him for that. But he wasn’t going to play along or let the boy pick a fight with him. Not when he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
“You didn’t know that, Erik. But you knew he was paralyzed. You knew he was hurt.” Alex said in a small voice, some of the fight going out of him. His gaze was more hurt than fury now, and he relaxed his hands, the light red glow that had been there before fading into nothingness. He seemed older than he had before Cuba and the year that followed, less prone to impulse and jokes, at least when the moment counted. And Alex must have decided this was one of them, because he shot Erik a piercing look, expression calmer than it had been, even there was a tremble to his mouth that belied it. “If you loved him, you would stay .”
Erik didn’t say anything, didn’t defend himself one way or the other. He just watched Alex storm off back into the house, arms crossed as he disappeared through the kitchen door. Erik took a deep breath and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes and wondering how they’d ended up here. He didn’t have time to find an answer, because soft footsteps soon joined the sound of crickets, and Erik didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was Raven. She came to rest at his side, their shoulders not quite touching. He finally opened his eyes, meeting her gaze out of the corner of his eye. “Alex isn’t wrong. He’s not right either, but he’s not wrong.”
“Care to expand on that idea?” Erik asked with a low exhale, gaze amused and bitter at the same time. Raven rolled her shoulders a few times, giving him a wan smile as she peeled herself off the wall, limbs moving with a swiftness that wouldn’t be possible for most people. She twisted around a bit so they were eye to eye, her lips pursed.
“He’s right that Charles wanted us to stay, but he’s wrong that we could’ve known that. Not when he didn’t want us to.” Raven shook her head, grimacing as she gave Erik a knowing look. She was right. Not because Charles was a telepath, because Charles had been telling the truth when he said he didn’t read her mind, that he didn’t go beyond the surface of Erik’s own unless he had permission. If he’d been lying, they’d have all been better off. No, they’d believed Charles because he was good at hiding his true feelings, at projecting a compassionate aloofness that pushed them away right when he needed them most. He’d … well he hadn’t wanted them to go, Erik knew that now. He knew Charles had been out of his mind with pain and guilt and god knew what else. “He was just afraid of what he might have to give up or what we would.”
“Funny, Charles always says he’s not afraid of much of anything.” Erik let out a dry laugh, rougher than he intended as he shot a look over to the window of the study, where he could see that Charles was still bent over his desk. Charles was brave, but that was because he was afraid. Scared of not being able to protect his students from pain and suffering, scared of needing help, scared of losing the things he loved most. What made him strong was that he faced all of those head on - all but the last. He hadn’t faced losing Erik or his dreams crumbling around him, had buried those memories somewhere in the corner of his mind where they couldn’t hurt him. “I suppose I’m an exception.”
“And he’s right that we should’ve come back after we heard, even if we still ended up on opposite sides or we couldn’t stay or — we should’ve been there. We shouldn’t have left him to suffer alone.” Raven looked over to the study window then, mouth pressing into a thin line. She was right and Erik wished she wasn’t, or maybe he just wished they’d made the right choice the first time around.
Erik had wanted to go back when he’d heard about Charles’ injury, wanted to see him and tell him that he was sorry for not thinking it through, for deflecting the bullet instead of simply lodging it in the barrel of the gun or dropping it to the ground. He’d wanted to come to the house and build ramps for Charles and lower his furniture and whatever else Charles needed, though it seemed he’d ended up doing that either way. Most of all he’d wanted to hold his hand through it all, to remind him that he deserved the same compassion he offered everyone else. But Erik hadn’t known if he had it in him to offer Charles that, to be the support he needed. He’d been frightened too, and wasn’t that ironic? Two men not afraid to take on Shaw and entire armies afraid of seeing each other after a break up. He glanced at Raven out of the corner of his eye, mouth pressed into a thin line. “So far it seems like he was more right than wrong.”
“You didn't leave because you don’t love Charles. You left because you were afraid, and you know it.” Raven said bluntly, her gaze steady and confident in a way she had no right to be, not when she asked him if he loved Charles just a few days ago. But maybe she asked because she already knew the answer and needed Erik to figure it out for himself. Raven nodded as though she were the telepath, turning on her heel and going through the kitchen doors.
Erik took a deep breath and glanced back at the study window, where he could see that Charles was resting his head on top of his arms, only the corner of his face visible underneath a cloud of fluffy brown hair. Erik remembered all the times Charles had fallen asleep across his books or papers, how Erik would kiss his eyelids until Charles woke up, gaze sleepy and smiling lazily as he reached a hand out to cup Erik’s cheek. Erik remembered and felt his chest fill with an emotion that was as painful as it was beautiful, tears well up in the back of his eyes. Erik knew then. Maybe he’d always known, deep down.
He was in love with Charles and he would make things right between them. All Erik needed to do was make Charles remember.