Fic: The Third who walks always beside you 14/19
Title The third who walks always beside you 14/19
Fandom X-Men First Class
Pairings Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier/Gabrielle Haller, in all possible combinations.
World count of chapter 4117
Word count of entire fic 94 000
Rating/warnings NC-17. Sexual situations, mental illness, professional misconduct, period homophobia, ableism and racism as well as casual misogyny, discussion of genocide and sexual abuse.
Disclaimer Marvels owns it, not I.
Summary After a chance meeting, the recently reunited mutant school-master and leader of the Brotherhood both become fascinated by Gabrielle Haller, a human who has demons of her own to fight. As Erik finds himself pulled between his mutant identity and his human heritage, Charles wrestles with his own ethical code and his attraction to his friend. The innocent distraction between the three of them rapidly grows more complicated and, ultimately, altogether more sinister.
Author’s note Look, a chapter! I know I keep saying it, but I’m really sorry about the wait, guys. Sorry to be rubbish at updating. However, please note that I've changed the chapter divisions (which happens with all my long fics, it seems...), so there are now 19 chapters, not 18. The quote in this chapter is from chapter eight in Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne.
However much Charles trusted Erik, the thought of leaving him in charge of Gaby when she was recovering from a psychotic episode worried him. He could keep a level head in combat, but how would he react if Gaby lost control? Charles had to remind himself that unlike himself, Erik did not sense what others felt, and that would undoubtedly make the task easier. When he reflected on it, it seemed odd that others lacked a sense he had.
He called in the evening, and was assured that all was going well.
‘You haven’t let her out of bed, have you?’ Charles asked anxiously.
‘Of course not. She’s too weak to walk around,’ Erik said, his voice sounding strange to Charles without the echo of his mind accompanying it. He had never liked telephones. It felt like people weren’t real when he could not pick up on their thoughts. Briefly, he wondered whether Erik had his helmet hidden somewhere in his hotel room. There was more than one reason he hated it. ‘She’s waving to you now. (Hello, Gaby.) She sends her love.’
‘Give her mine,’ Charles said and smiled to himself. ‘Take care, both of you.’ They hung up. Charles tugged at the sleeve of his cardigan hesitantly. Erik’s mindless, disembodied voice was still far better than the silence.
That night he did not sleep well. He dreamt that he was woken up by Azazel, his devilish face leering down at him. The mutant grabbed him and suddenly, they were somewhere else, on a heath under a stormy sky. He knew that Gaby was in danger and Erik had called for help, but the Brotherhood would no longer follow his orders. Now they were closing in on him, where he half-sat, helpless in the mud, unable to reach their minds to fend them off, and out of the mist came a helmeted, cloaked figure...
He woke before it reached him, and for a long time he lay panting, reeling with the shock of the nightmare. It was just a dream, he told himself. Erik would never turn on me. He would never betray us. In his mind, he knew it for truth, but now when he was newly awake from that dream, he feared that it might bear some likeness to reality. Finally, he fell asleep again, and did not dream.
When morning came, there had been no phone calls and no visitations of tailed mutants. Charles decided to have a proper breakfast to strengthen himself. It was well past nine when he set out. Erik had given him the key to the apartment, and as he unlocked it, he could hear a voice from inside, which grew louder when he opened the door and wheeled himself in.
‘“Don’t you know what an Ambush is?” “Owl,” said Piglet, looking round at him severely, “Pooh’s whisper was a perfectly private whisper, and there was no need -” “An Ambush,” said Owl, “is a sort of Surprise.” “So is a gorse-bush sometimes,” said Pooh. “An Ambush, as I was about to explain to Pooh,” said Piglet, “is a sort of Surprise.”’
There was something very endearing with Piglet read in a German accent, especially considering that Erik was reading him in a squeaky voice. Now, Charles had reached the doorway of the bedroom. Both of them were sitting in bed, covers pulled over them. Gaby, wrapped in a shawl over her nightgown, rested against Erik’s chest, nestled close by his arm around her shoulders. He held the book he was reading out of with his free hand, and angled it so that Gaby could see the illustrations. Charles hesitated to speak, but watched them, touched by the scene. Erik was just about to continue reading about the Expotition to the North Pole, when Gaby looked up and spotted Charles.
‘Charles! You’re here,’ she said, her face breaking into a smile. Erik disentangle himself from her and closed the book, giving Charles a brief smile of greeting.
‘You’ve been keeping busy, I see,’ Charles said lightly.
‘Erik’s been reading for me,’ Gaby explained, smiling with genuine happiness.
‘I found it in her bookcase,’ Erik explained and waved Winnie-the-Pooh in demonstration. ‘She’d never read it.’
‘I never had time,’ she said and shrugged. ‘But we’ve read most of the book this morning.’ Charles rolled up to the bed and, shaking back his shirt-sleeve to be able to see his watch, felt her pulse.
‘Have you slept well?’ he asked.
‘Yes. I was exhausted.’
‘You look much better than you did yesterday,’ Charles observed and put her hand down. She was still a little pale, and the skin under her eyes looked thin and dark, but her spirits were as high as they ever were.
‘I feel it,’ she said.
‘Erik’s been treating you well?’ She nodded, and they smiled at each other. Then Gaby seemed to remember the professional capacity he was here in, and she looked down, seemingly embarrassed. ‘Should I...?’ She lowered her shawl.
‘Eum, yes - just slip it down. Where’s my stethoscope gone? Ah, there.’ He put it around his neck and watched how Gaby lowered the straps of her nightgown and pulled the shawl over her shoulders before pushing the nightgown down under her breasts. It looked like a modest gesture, even if he assumed it was because she felt cold. She looked like some renaissance painting where she reclined, hair let out and body covered, but for her chest. Even like this, when she was ill and in his care, the sight of her bare breasts felt undoubtedly erotic. He had to control himself not to reach out and trace their roundness. Charles wondered if he was more attracted to her when it was wrong for him to be. Leaving the thought aside, he concentrated on the matter at hand. Erik, who had disappeared into the kitchen during the examination, reappeared as Gaby was struggling into her nightgown again.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘It’s certainly moving in the right direction,’ Charles said as he closed his bag.
‘I’ve been invited to the Prydemanns for sabbath dinner tonight. Can I still go?’ Gaby asked.
‘Yes, as long as you feel up to it tonight. How would you get there?’
‘I walk. It’s not far.’
‘Well, in that case, Erik should walk with you,’ he said and glanced at Erik, who nodded in acknowledgement. Charles looked back at Gaby, as she put the pillow against the bed board and crossed her legs. He should talk to her about the gravity about the situation and urge her to reconsider speaking to a doctor, but he did not think it would lead anywhere. In fact, it might just serve to depress her. Yesterday, his attempts to talk to her had made her feel as if she was at fault, and he did not want that.
So he pushed it aside, hoping he had made enough of an impression yesterday, and instead picked up the book they had been reading.
‘Shall we give Erik some time to rest his voice...?’ he asked and indicated the book. Gaby smiled and curled up around herself, watching him intently.
‘Yes - read to me.’
***
It turned into a very quiet day. They read and talked, and if it had not been for the fact that Gaby stayed in bed most of the day (even if she sat up), it could have been just a social gathering. Several times, Charles thought that he should speak to her properly, but he pushed it aside. He did not want to scold her, and he knew it would sound like a rebuke, not an expression of concern. In the late afternoon, both he and Erik kissed her goodbye, and Erik pushed Charles back to the hotel. They nodded in parting to each other in the lobby. As Charles entered his suite, he sensed Erik leaving the hotel again, retracing his steps.
He remained half-present in his mind until he reached Gaby’s flat. When Erik stepped into the hall and Gaby came to greet him, Charles could see her so clearly that she might as well have been standing right in front of him. It felt like her mind was calling to his to enter it. Slipping into both their thoughts as they left the flat felt easier than not to do it. In thought he followed them as they walked away from the hotel. As Gaby said, it was not far, and after some ten minutes, she stopped.
‘Here it is,’ she said and nodded at the house they had stopped by. Erik watched the light pouring out of the windows and the movements he could see through them. It twisted his stomach. ‘Erik?’ He forced away his gaze and looked at her. Gaby looked up at him expectantly. ‘Won’t you come with me?’ He looked at her in surprise, then managed to shake his head.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I... I couldn’t. I can’t invite myself into some strangers’ house...’
‘You wouldn’t be,’ Gaby said. ‘I’d invite you. They wouldn’t mind - they’re kind people. Come on. It’ll be lovely.’ He shook his head again.
‘I’m sorry, Gaby.’ He could see how it dispirited her, and quickly, he tried to explain. ‘I don’t think I can face it.’
‘Why not?’ she challenged him. Erik snapped his mouth shut. There was no way he could answer that. She sighed and looked away, disappointed. He wondered whether he should apologise again, but before he could do that, Gaby leaned a little closer and spoke quietly, as if to exclude some eavesdropper, but the only eavesdropper present heard every word.
‘When we first made love, you told me that they didn’t own us.’ Erik sighed, realising where this was going. The worst was that she had a point. ‘So why are you letting them?’
‘Gaby, I can’t explain this,’ he tried. ‘You wouldn’t understand...’ Gaby exclaimed a sarcastic ‘hah!’
‘You can’t know that without having tried to explain it,’ she said. She waited for him to try, but he remained silent. She looked down as well, and as if deciding to give it another try, took his hand. ‘I know what this is about.’
‘Do you?’ he snorted.
‘I think I do,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to stand apart. But we do, Erik. We’re different. But it doesn’t have to be in a bad way. It doesn’t mean that people will automatically hate us.’
‘Humans always hate what is different.’
‘And do you think you can become someone else just by wanting it?’ she exclaimed. ‘You can’t just cut this piece out of yourself! That’s not how it works.’
‘I know that,’ Erik all but spat and drew away his hand. ‘But you have no idea what all this means, Gaby - how complicated this is...’ Gaby did not stop looking at him. Her gaze looked almost pleading.
‘What good’s surviving, if you’re going to turn your back on your people?’
He stared at her, wondering if he had actually heard her correctly.
‘That,’ he said finally. ‘That was a cheap shot.’ Gaby looked almost pleased.
‘Did I hit a nerve?’ Despite himself, Erik laughed. He had never thought her such a ruthless debater.
‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘You did.’ She smiled at him, suddenly timidly, and reached out her hand. He took it. ‘You should go,’ he told her. ‘You’ll be late.’
‘You’re still coming with me to shul tomorrow, aren’t you?’ He nodded.
‘Yes.’ She bit her lip, considering something.
‘Perhaps next Friday...’
‘Perhaps,’ he said quickly. ‘Let’s decide that next week.’ She smiled at him and tilted her head back. He kissed her, longer than was appropriate in public. When they pulled apart, he was the first to say:
‘Shabbat shalom.’
‘Shabbat shalom,’ she answered and kissed him again. Then she stepped away and, smiling over her shoulder, went to ring the doorbell. Erik started walking away, but could hear how the door opened and voices welcomed her in. He quickened his step and hunched his back. The memory of his mother chanting under her breath echoed in his head.
Charles decided to intervene.
Erik?
He sensed Erik jump.
‘Charles, what...?’
Don’t speak out loud. You’ll look like a lunatic. Just think.
Are you eavesdropping?
In a manner of speaking. I wanted to make sure you were alright.
Of course I’m alright.
You should have gone with her.
Too late now.
Would you like to come here? You feel like you could do with the company. I happen to know that your only other plan is to brood.
He sensed Erik considering it, then:
Fine. Now get out of my head.
Charles withdrew, and could not help but feel a little guilty. He looked around the room, trying to find something to occupy him until Erik arrived. He could not settle on anything, so instead he wheeled closer to the couch and transferred himself onto it. When he had settled, he wove his fingers together and looked towards the door. Erik must still be at least ten minutes away. He made himself look away - it would be silly to watch it until he turned up. It was strange that this wait made him so fidgety, nervous even. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. It was not like Erik did not come to see him often.
But when he looked at the facts again, he realised that several things were out of the ordinary. This was the first time he had admitted to listening in on their private conversations. Would Erik be angry with him? Would there be a confrontation? But that was not all. Excepting the short reconciliation in Gaby’s kitchen, they had not spoken privately since the night before last. Charles did not know what would happen now, but he supposed that whatever transpired now would decide what would. Finally, he thought of Gaby at dinner with some acquaintances from the congregation, and Erik, on his way from her to him. Would meeting like this be going behind her back? Would she learn about it?
There was a knock on the door.
‘Come in!’ Charles called. The door opened and Erik stepped in, hat in hand. Charles smiled at him in greeting. The corner of Erik’s mouth twitched, but it was not quite enough be called a smile. He did not look at him as he took his coat off and put it over the back of an armchair. Without speaking, he circled the couch and sat down beside Charles. He sat at a respectable distance, but it felt like he was sitting up close. Charles unclasped his hands and then reclasped them. Erik drummed his fingers against his knee. The sinews of his hands moved to the rhythm. He watched the way they played under the skin. Erik must have noticed him staring at his hand, because when he said his name, he sounded almost concerned.
‘Charles?’
He shook himself and looked up with an apologetic smile.
‘Sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.’ Now, the smile Erik gave him was genuine. His mouth barely moved, but his eyes changed, and took on a particular shine. Charles exhaled and surrendered. They leaned in at the same time, and without speaking, without discussing the consequences, they kissed.
***
The next morning, Charles was awoken by Erik kissing his brow.
‘What?’ he muttered sleepily. He wondered what time it was, thinking it was far too early to be up, and why Erik was rising, wishing he could stay. Then he remembered the previous evening, and what had happened on the couch and then in the bed, and understood why he felt so tired and stiff.
‘I’m going to the synagogue with Gaby,’ Erik explained and stroked his hair back. Charles blinked sleep out of his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows.
‘Why are you nervous?’ he asked him. Erik looked taken aback, but his loss of control of his features only lasted for a moment.
‘I’m not.’ He planted a kiss on his lips and climbed out of the bed. ‘I’ll see you later.’ Charles hummed and put down his head on the pillow again. It had been as if he could taste Erik’s apprehension on his lips.
***
At midday, Charles was still reading the newspaper. He had taken to reading it in detail during his time in New York. At the school, he usually just had time to read the most important parts and skimmed the rest. Unfortunately it was not uplifting reading. He had found several mentions of mutants, especially in articles about various kinds of crimes, some of them petty, others quite violent, where a mutant was thought to be the perpetrator. It made him wonder (not for the first time) if the public’s views on mutants would have been different if they had been told of the existence of mutants in some other way than the Cuban missile crisis.
A knock on the door saved him from more worry about this topic.
‘It’s unlocked!’ he called as he folded up the broadsheet. He had expected both Erik and Gaby to enter, but instead, Erik was on his own. ‘Come in,’ Charles said cheerfully, but he could tell at once that his good mood was not shared by Erik. As he took off his hat and sat down on the couch, leaving his coat on, there was an unfamiliar lost look in his eye. He sat quietly for a few moments, his shoulders hunched and his eyes in the carpet, then his face seized up and his eyes clenched, trying to keep the tears from falling. Charles bit his lip at the sight. He approached cautiously, afraid to make him bolt. When he was as close as he could be, he put his hand on his arm.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said softly. ‘Was it the service?’ Erik shook his head.
‘The people.’
Charles did not have to enter his mind to read his thoughts. The recent memory presented itself to him willingly.
The service had not disturbed, as much as startled and moved him. It was not like the worship of his childhood, hidden away in cellars and locked rooms, conducted in secret and under the threat of punishment. Instead it was huge, impressive, proud. It made him want to cower, waking buried fears of what would happen if they were caught. He had to remind himself that nothing would happen - no one wanted them to suffer for this. At the same time as it was so unlike what he remembered, it was just like it. The sights and smells and words made him remember things he had thought he had forgotten. The memories were so vivid that he felt momentarily misplaced in his adult body.
When the service was over, he had waited for Gaby to descend from the gallery. She had taken his hand and lead him to meet the congregation in earnest. He had not considered this before, and was barely given time to consider it before he was engulfed in the crowd. Gaby did not have any friends her own age, but from what Erik could gather, most of the elderly ladies in the congregation liked and worried for her. That she had turned up with a man was as surprising as it was welcome to them. At once, the couple were surrounded by people greeting them and asking questions. Gaby answered half of the questions directed at Erik for him - he, who always knew what to say, was suddenly lost for words. All the time her arm remained in the crook of his. They asked how they had met, where he was from, which synagogue he usually went to, what he did for a living, if he knew this or that person. Someone asked them about the date of the wedding. Gaby laughed and pretended not to have heard. Erik looked around at these people, who were talking and joking and laughing, and thought over and over again: they are humans. I am their superior. They are the oppressors. I am different from them. But these words suddenly lost their meaning. One of the women who had first approached Gaby - he could not remember her name - turned to him and addressed him in Yiddish. She was congratulating him and saying that she hoped Gaby would feed him properly once they got married, and herself as well, because she was too thin, poor dear. But don’t just keep her by the stove, Mister Lehnsherr, because she is a clever girl...
He could not remember the last time he had heard anyone speak Yiddish. He had consigned it to a part of his mind where he would not go, and had never expected to be faced with it again. Hearing it now, he felt himself seize up. It sparked too many emotions, none of which he wanted to show. Distress and surprise and relief coursed through him and struck him dumb. The lady smiled apologetically and switched into English instead, assuming that his silence was due to that he had not understood her. Choked by the flood of memories which had washed over him, he stumbled upon the words of a language he was so used to speaking when he answered her. He did not say anything of any consequence, and Gaby soon took over that conversation too. He was grateful for it, because he did not know what to say. He looked around at all these people, puzzled and intrigued. They were so happy to meet him, and so excited for Gaby and a union that would never happen. If they had known who and what he was, if he would do even something so innocent as bend a spoon out of shape, he would be a monster in their eyes. But as long as he did not do that, they would embrace him as one of them. Briefly, he thought of the possibility of taking this as his community and accepting that part to play. He let it drop, but the rejection did not comfort him. Instead, it only underlined the possibility more, as he stood among them, both among his own people and among strangers.
Charles pressed his shoulder in sympathy.
‘They were so happy,’ Erik whispered, looking out into space. ‘How could they be happy?’
‘I don’t know,’ Charles answered earnestly. ‘There is no way for us to know how their lives have been.’
‘Still...’ he said and shook his head. It did not make sense to him that anyone could be happy when their people were being oppressed, however far away it was. Charles felt that he needed to say something.
‘Perhaps they find happiness in being together.’ It sounded rather inane, he thought, but Erik did not seem to be listening.
‘I felt like a child.’
‘It’s not so strange,’ Charles said kindly. ‘It must have reminded you of things you tend not to think about.’
‘It made me feel lost.’
That surprised him.
‘Why?’ Charles asked. Erik closed his eyes, as though not seeing the world around him would make what he felt more clear. Then suddenly he opened them again, and the worry could not be seen. He doubted that it had been dispelled. Rather it had been locked away somewhere deeper.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘It was just an experience I haven’t had for some time.’
‘But...’
‘It was just startling,’ he said curtly. The conversation was obviously at an end. Charles closed his mouth, confused. Erik had come here because he wanted to talk about it - why would he change his mind so suddenly? What had he realised that had made him close up? What made matters even worse was that Erik had picked up his hat and was rising.
‘Please, Erik, don’t go,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry if I misstepped somehow...’ Erik stopped, looking down at the hat in his hands.
‘You didn’t.’ He spoke quietly, as though afraid to waken something inside himself. ‘I was simply mistaken. I need to think this through...’ He looked up at him. His eyes made it plain that he was telling the truth. They held no anger, but Charles could see sadness and something which he thought might be fear.
‘Think what through?’ Charles asked. Erik shook his head.
‘I believe I have a decision to make.’ He took a few swift steps towards him, put his hand under Charles’ chin to angle his face up and kissed him. Then with a smile and a quiet, ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he left. Charles watched him go. There was regret in his step.
Next chapter
Fandom X-Men First Class
Pairings Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier/Gabrielle Haller, in all possible combinations.
World count of chapter 4117
Word count of entire fic 94 000
Rating/warnings NC-17. Sexual situations, mental illness, professional misconduct, period homophobia, ableism and racism as well as casual misogyny, discussion of genocide and sexual abuse.
Disclaimer Marvels owns it, not I.
Summary After a chance meeting, the recently reunited mutant school-master and leader of the Brotherhood both become fascinated by Gabrielle Haller, a human who has demons of her own to fight. As Erik finds himself pulled between his mutant identity and his human heritage, Charles wrestles with his own ethical code and his attraction to his friend. The innocent distraction between the three of them rapidly grows more complicated and, ultimately, altogether more sinister.
Author’s note Look, a chapter! I know I keep saying it, but I’m really sorry about the wait, guys. Sorry to be rubbish at updating. However, please note that I've changed the chapter divisions (which happens with all my long fics, it seems...), so there are now 19 chapters, not 18. The quote in this chapter is from chapter eight in Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne.
However much Charles trusted Erik, the thought of leaving him in charge of Gaby when she was recovering from a psychotic episode worried him. He could keep a level head in combat, but how would he react if Gaby lost control? Charles had to remind himself that unlike himself, Erik did not sense what others felt, and that would undoubtedly make the task easier. When he reflected on it, it seemed odd that others lacked a sense he had.
He called in the evening, and was assured that all was going well.
‘You haven’t let her out of bed, have you?’ Charles asked anxiously.
‘Of course not. She’s too weak to walk around,’ Erik said, his voice sounding strange to Charles without the echo of his mind accompanying it. He had never liked telephones. It felt like people weren’t real when he could not pick up on their thoughts. Briefly, he wondered whether Erik had his helmet hidden somewhere in his hotel room. There was more than one reason he hated it. ‘She’s waving to you now. (Hello, Gaby.) She sends her love.’
‘Give her mine,’ Charles said and smiled to himself. ‘Take care, both of you.’ They hung up. Charles tugged at the sleeve of his cardigan hesitantly. Erik’s mindless, disembodied voice was still far better than the silence.
That night he did not sleep well. He dreamt that he was woken up by Azazel, his devilish face leering down at him. The mutant grabbed him and suddenly, they were somewhere else, on a heath under a stormy sky. He knew that Gaby was in danger and Erik had called for help, but the Brotherhood would no longer follow his orders. Now they were closing in on him, where he half-sat, helpless in the mud, unable to reach their minds to fend them off, and out of the mist came a helmeted, cloaked figure...
He woke before it reached him, and for a long time he lay panting, reeling with the shock of the nightmare. It was just a dream, he told himself. Erik would never turn on me. He would never betray us. In his mind, he knew it for truth, but now when he was newly awake from that dream, he feared that it might bear some likeness to reality. Finally, he fell asleep again, and did not dream.
When morning came, there had been no phone calls and no visitations of tailed mutants. Charles decided to have a proper breakfast to strengthen himself. It was well past nine when he set out. Erik had given him the key to the apartment, and as he unlocked it, he could hear a voice from inside, which grew louder when he opened the door and wheeled himself in.
‘“Don’t you know what an Ambush is?” “Owl,” said Piglet, looking round at him severely, “Pooh’s whisper was a perfectly private whisper, and there was no need -” “An Ambush,” said Owl, “is a sort of Surprise.” “So is a gorse-bush sometimes,” said Pooh. “An Ambush, as I was about to explain to Pooh,” said Piglet, “is a sort of Surprise.”’
There was something very endearing with Piglet read in a German accent, especially considering that Erik was reading him in a squeaky voice. Now, Charles had reached the doorway of the bedroom. Both of them were sitting in bed, covers pulled over them. Gaby, wrapped in a shawl over her nightgown, rested against Erik’s chest, nestled close by his arm around her shoulders. He held the book he was reading out of with his free hand, and angled it so that Gaby could see the illustrations. Charles hesitated to speak, but watched them, touched by the scene. Erik was just about to continue reading about the Expotition to the North Pole, when Gaby looked up and spotted Charles.
‘Charles! You’re here,’ she said, her face breaking into a smile. Erik disentangle himself from her and closed the book, giving Charles a brief smile of greeting.
‘You’ve been keeping busy, I see,’ Charles said lightly.
‘Erik’s been reading for me,’ Gaby explained, smiling with genuine happiness.
‘I found it in her bookcase,’ Erik explained and waved Winnie-the-Pooh in demonstration. ‘She’d never read it.’
‘I never had time,’ she said and shrugged. ‘But we’ve read most of the book this morning.’ Charles rolled up to the bed and, shaking back his shirt-sleeve to be able to see his watch, felt her pulse.
‘Have you slept well?’ he asked.
‘Yes. I was exhausted.’
‘You look much better than you did yesterday,’ Charles observed and put her hand down. She was still a little pale, and the skin under her eyes looked thin and dark, but her spirits were as high as they ever were.
‘I feel it,’ she said.
‘Erik’s been treating you well?’ She nodded, and they smiled at each other. Then Gaby seemed to remember the professional capacity he was here in, and she looked down, seemingly embarrassed. ‘Should I...?’ She lowered her shawl.
‘Eum, yes - just slip it down. Where’s my stethoscope gone? Ah, there.’ He put it around his neck and watched how Gaby lowered the straps of her nightgown and pulled the shawl over her shoulders before pushing the nightgown down under her breasts. It looked like a modest gesture, even if he assumed it was because she felt cold. She looked like some renaissance painting where she reclined, hair let out and body covered, but for her chest. Even like this, when she was ill and in his care, the sight of her bare breasts felt undoubtedly erotic. He had to control himself not to reach out and trace their roundness. Charles wondered if he was more attracted to her when it was wrong for him to be. Leaving the thought aside, he concentrated on the matter at hand. Erik, who had disappeared into the kitchen during the examination, reappeared as Gaby was struggling into her nightgown again.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘It’s certainly moving in the right direction,’ Charles said as he closed his bag.
‘I’ve been invited to the Prydemanns for sabbath dinner tonight. Can I still go?’ Gaby asked.
‘Yes, as long as you feel up to it tonight. How would you get there?’
‘I walk. It’s not far.’
‘Well, in that case, Erik should walk with you,’ he said and glanced at Erik, who nodded in acknowledgement. Charles looked back at Gaby, as she put the pillow against the bed board and crossed her legs. He should talk to her about the gravity about the situation and urge her to reconsider speaking to a doctor, but he did not think it would lead anywhere. In fact, it might just serve to depress her. Yesterday, his attempts to talk to her had made her feel as if she was at fault, and he did not want that.
So he pushed it aside, hoping he had made enough of an impression yesterday, and instead picked up the book they had been reading.
‘Shall we give Erik some time to rest his voice...?’ he asked and indicated the book. Gaby smiled and curled up around herself, watching him intently.
‘Yes - read to me.’
***
It turned into a very quiet day. They read and talked, and if it had not been for the fact that Gaby stayed in bed most of the day (even if she sat up), it could have been just a social gathering. Several times, Charles thought that he should speak to her properly, but he pushed it aside. He did not want to scold her, and he knew it would sound like a rebuke, not an expression of concern. In the late afternoon, both he and Erik kissed her goodbye, and Erik pushed Charles back to the hotel. They nodded in parting to each other in the lobby. As Charles entered his suite, he sensed Erik leaving the hotel again, retracing his steps.
He remained half-present in his mind until he reached Gaby’s flat. When Erik stepped into the hall and Gaby came to greet him, Charles could see her so clearly that she might as well have been standing right in front of him. It felt like her mind was calling to his to enter it. Slipping into both their thoughts as they left the flat felt easier than not to do it. In thought he followed them as they walked away from the hotel. As Gaby said, it was not far, and after some ten minutes, she stopped.
‘Here it is,’ she said and nodded at the house they had stopped by. Erik watched the light pouring out of the windows and the movements he could see through them. It twisted his stomach. ‘Erik?’ He forced away his gaze and looked at her. Gaby looked up at him expectantly. ‘Won’t you come with me?’ He looked at her in surprise, then managed to shake his head.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I... I couldn’t. I can’t invite myself into some strangers’ house...’
‘You wouldn’t be,’ Gaby said. ‘I’d invite you. They wouldn’t mind - they’re kind people. Come on. It’ll be lovely.’ He shook his head again.
‘I’m sorry, Gaby.’ He could see how it dispirited her, and quickly, he tried to explain. ‘I don’t think I can face it.’
‘Why not?’ she challenged him. Erik snapped his mouth shut. There was no way he could answer that. She sighed and looked away, disappointed. He wondered whether he should apologise again, but before he could do that, Gaby leaned a little closer and spoke quietly, as if to exclude some eavesdropper, but the only eavesdropper present heard every word.
‘When we first made love, you told me that they didn’t own us.’ Erik sighed, realising where this was going. The worst was that she had a point. ‘So why are you letting them?’
‘Gaby, I can’t explain this,’ he tried. ‘You wouldn’t understand...’ Gaby exclaimed a sarcastic ‘hah!’
‘You can’t know that without having tried to explain it,’ she said. She waited for him to try, but he remained silent. She looked down as well, and as if deciding to give it another try, took his hand. ‘I know what this is about.’
‘Do you?’ he snorted.
‘I think I do,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to stand apart. But we do, Erik. We’re different. But it doesn’t have to be in a bad way. It doesn’t mean that people will automatically hate us.’
‘Humans always hate what is different.’
‘And do you think you can become someone else just by wanting it?’ she exclaimed. ‘You can’t just cut this piece out of yourself! That’s not how it works.’
‘I know that,’ Erik all but spat and drew away his hand. ‘But you have no idea what all this means, Gaby - how complicated this is...’ Gaby did not stop looking at him. Her gaze looked almost pleading.
‘What good’s surviving, if you’re going to turn your back on your people?’
He stared at her, wondering if he had actually heard her correctly.
‘That,’ he said finally. ‘That was a cheap shot.’ Gaby looked almost pleased.
‘Did I hit a nerve?’ Despite himself, Erik laughed. He had never thought her such a ruthless debater.
‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘You did.’ She smiled at him, suddenly timidly, and reached out her hand. He took it. ‘You should go,’ he told her. ‘You’ll be late.’
‘You’re still coming with me to shul tomorrow, aren’t you?’ He nodded.
‘Yes.’ She bit her lip, considering something.
‘Perhaps next Friday...’
‘Perhaps,’ he said quickly. ‘Let’s decide that next week.’ She smiled at him and tilted her head back. He kissed her, longer than was appropriate in public. When they pulled apart, he was the first to say:
‘Shabbat shalom.’
‘Shabbat shalom,’ she answered and kissed him again. Then she stepped away and, smiling over her shoulder, went to ring the doorbell. Erik started walking away, but could hear how the door opened and voices welcomed her in. He quickened his step and hunched his back. The memory of his mother chanting under her breath echoed in his head.
Charles decided to intervene.
Erik?
He sensed Erik jump.
‘Charles, what...?’
Don’t speak out loud. You’ll look like a lunatic. Just think.
Are you eavesdropping?
In a manner of speaking. I wanted to make sure you were alright.
Of course I’m alright.
You should have gone with her.
Too late now.
Would you like to come here? You feel like you could do with the company. I happen to know that your only other plan is to brood.
He sensed Erik considering it, then:
Fine. Now get out of my head.
Charles withdrew, and could not help but feel a little guilty. He looked around the room, trying to find something to occupy him until Erik arrived. He could not settle on anything, so instead he wheeled closer to the couch and transferred himself onto it. When he had settled, he wove his fingers together and looked towards the door. Erik must still be at least ten minutes away. He made himself look away - it would be silly to watch it until he turned up. It was strange that this wait made him so fidgety, nervous even. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. It was not like Erik did not come to see him often.
But when he looked at the facts again, he realised that several things were out of the ordinary. This was the first time he had admitted to listening in on their private conversations. Would Erik be angry with him? Would there be a confrontation? But that was not all. Excepting the short reconciliation in Gaby’s kitchen, they had not spoken privately since the night before last. Charles did not know what would happen now, but he supposed that whatever transpired now would decide what would. Finally, he thought of Gaby at dinner with some acquaintances from the congregation, and Erik, on his way from her to him. Would meeting like this be going behind her back? Would she learn about it?
There was a knock on the door.
‘Come in!’ Charles called. The door opened and Erik stepped in, hat in hand. Charles smiled at him in greeting. The corner of Erik’s mouth twitched, but it was not quite enough be called a smile. He did not look at him as he took his coat off and put it over the back of an armchair. Without speaking, he circled the couch and sat down beside Charles. He sat at a respectable distance, but it felt like he was sitting up close. Charles unclasped his hands and then reclasped them. Erik drummed his fingers against his knee. The sinews of his hands moved to the rhythm. He watched the way they played under the skin. Erik must have noticed him staring at his hand, because when he said his name, he sounded almost concerned.
‘Charles?’
He shook himself and looked up with an apologetic smile.
‘Sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.’ Now, the smile Erik gave him was genuine. His mouth barely moved, but his eyes changed, and took on a particular shine. Charles exhaled and surrendered. They leaned in at the same time, and without speaking, without discussing the consequences, they kissed.
***
The next morning, Charles was awoken by Erik kissing his brow.
‘What?’ he muttered sleepily. He wondered what time it was, thinking it was far too early to be up, and why Erik was rising, wishing he could stay. Then he remembered the previous evening, and what had happened on the couch and then in the bed, and understood why he felt so tired and stiff.
‘I’m going to the synagogue with Gaby,’ Erik explained and stroked his hair back. Charles blinked sleep out of his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows.
‘Why are you nervous?’ he asked him. Erik looked taken aback, but his loss of control of his features only lasted for a moment.
‘I’m not.’ He planted a kiss on his lips and climbed out of the bed. ‘I’ll see you later.’ Charles hummed and put down his head on the pillow again. It had been as if he could taste Erik’s apprehension on his lips.
***
At midday, Charles was still reading the newspaper. He had taken to reading it in detail during his time in New York. At the school, he usually just had time to read the most important parts and skimmed the rest. Unfortunately it was not uplifting reading. He had found several mentions of mutants, especially in articles about various kinds of crimes, some of them petty, others quite violent, where a mutant was thought to be the perpetrator. It made him wonder (not for the first time) if the public’s views on mutants would have been different if they had been told of the existence of mutants in some other way than the Cuban missile crisis.
A knock on the door saved him from more worry about this topic.
‘It’s unlocked!’ he called as he folded up the broadsheet. He had expected both Erik and Gaby to enter, but instead, Erik was on his own. ‘Come in,’ Charles said cheerfully, but he could tell at once that his good mood was not shared by Erik. As he took off his hat and sat down on the couch, leaving his coat on, there was an unfamiliar lost look in his eye. He sat quietly for a few moments, his shoulders hunched and his eyes in the carpet, then his face seized up and his eyes clenched, trying to keep the tears from falling. Charles bit his lip at the sight. He approached cautiously, afraid to make him bolt. When he was as close as he could be, he put his hand on his arm.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said softly. ‘Was it the service?’ Erik shook his head.
‘The people.’
Charles did not have to enter his mind to read his thoughts. The recent memory presented itself to him willingly.
The service had not disturbed, as much as startled and moved him. It was not like the worship of his childhood, hidden away in cellars and locked rooms, conducted in secret and under the threat of punishment. Instead it was huge, impressive, proud. It made him want to cower, waking buried fears of what would happen if they were caught. He had to remind himself that nothing would happen - no one wanted them to suffer for this. At the same time as it was so unlike what he remembered, it was just like it. The sights and smells and words made him remember things he had thought he had forgotten. The memories were so vivid that he felt momentarily misplaced in his adult body.
When the service was over, he had waited for Gaby to descend from the gallery. She had taken his hand and lead him to meet the congregation in earnest. He had not considered this before, and was barely given time to consider it before he was engulfed in the crowd. Gaby did not have any friends her own age, but from what Erik could gather, most of the elderly ladies in the congregation liked and worried for her. That she had turned up with a man was as surprising as it was welcome to them. At once, the couple were surrounded by people greeting them and asking questions. Gaby answered half of the questions directed at Erik for him - he, who always knew what to say, was suddenly lost for words. All the time her arm remained in the crook of his. They asked how they had met, where he was from, which synagogue he usually went to, what he did for a living, if he knew this or that person. Someone asked them about the date of the wedding. Gaby laughed and pretended not to have heard. Erik looked around at these people, who were talking and joking and laughing, and thought over and over again: they are humans. I am their superior. They are the oppressors. I am different from them. But these words suddenly lost their meaning. One of the women who had first approached Gaby - he could not remember her name - turned to him and addressed him in Yiddish. She was congratulating him and saying that she hoped Gaby would feed him properly once they got married, and herself as well, because she was too thin, poor dear. But don’t just keep her by the stove, Mister Lehnsherr, because she is a clever girl...
He could not remember the last time he had heard anyone speak Yiddish. He had consigned it to a part of his mind where he would not go, and had never expected to be faced with it again. Hearing it now, he felt himself seize up. It sparked too many emotions, none of which he wanted to show. Distress and surprise and relief coursed through him and struck him dumb. The lady smiled apologetically and switched into English instead, assuming that his silence was due to that he had not understood her. Choked by the flood of memories which had washed over him, he stumbled upon the words of a language he was so used to speaking when he answered her. He did not say anything of any consequence, and Gaby soon took over that conversation too. He was grateful for it, because he did not know what to say. He looked around at all these people, puzzled and intrigued. They were so happy to meet him, and so excited for Gaby and a union that would never happen. If they had known who and what he was, if he would do even something so innocent as bend a spoon out of shape, he would be a monster in their eyes. But as long as he did not do that, they would embrace him as one of them. Briefly, he thought of the possibility of taking this as his community and accepting that part to play. He let it drop, but the rejection did not comfort him. Instead, it only underlined the possibility more, as he stood among them, both among his own people and among strangers.
Charles pressed his shoulder in sympathy.
‘They were so happy,’ Erik whispered, looking out into space. ‘How could they be happy?’
‘I don’t know,’ Charles answered earnestly. ‘There is no way for us to know how their lives have been.’
‘Still...’ he said and shook his head. It did not make sense to him that anyone could be happy when their people were being oppressed, however far away it was. Charles felt that he needed to say something.
‘Perhaps they find happiness in being together.’ It sounded rather inane, he thought, but Erik did not seem to be listening.
‘I felt like a child.’
‘It’s not so strange,’ Charles said kindly. ‘It must have reminded you of things you tend not to think about.’
‘It made me feel lost.’
That surprised him.
‘Why?’ Charles asked. Erik closed his eyes, as though not seeing the world around him would make what he felt more clear. Then suddenly he opened them again, and the worry could not be seen. He doubted that it had been dispelled. Rather it had been locked away somewhere deeper.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘It was just an experience I haven’t had for some time.’
‘But...’
‘It was just startling,’ he said curtly. The conversation was obviously at an end. Charles closed his mouth, confused. Erik had come here because he wanted to talk about it - why would he change his mind so suddenly? What had he realised that had made him close up? What made matters even worse was that Erik had picked up his hat and was rising.
‘Please, Erik, don’t go,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry if I misstepped somehow...’ Erik stopped, looking down at the hat in his hands.
‘You didn’t.’ He spoke quietly, as though afraid to waken something inside himself. ‘I was simply mistaken. I need to think this through...’ He looked up at him. His eyes made it plain that he was telling the truth. They held no anger, but Charles could see sadness and something which he thought might be fear.
‘Think what through?’ Charles asked. Erik shook his head.
‘I believe I have a decision to make.’ He took a few swift steps towards him, put his hand under Charles’ chin to angle his face up and kissed him. Then with a smile and a quiet, ‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he left. Charles watched him go. There was regret in his step.
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