"Do You Love Me" 2/? (XMFC Charles/Erik AU)
Title: Do You Love Me
Word Count: 3,651 (Chapter) - 5,719 (Whole Fic)
Pairings: Charles/Erik, Raven/Hank, Sean/Moira, Scott/Jean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.
Warnings: mpreg, underaged characters for part of it but nothing explicit or anything
Twenty-Five Years Ago
When they arrive in the other settlement they're taken directly to the central building, lead inside to a room and asked to wait. One by one their names are called and they're led from the room, presumably being taken to meet the men they've been paired with. Charles stands against the wall, clutching Raven's hand and holding the one bag that contains everything they both own in his other.
In the town that was home for two years they lived with others like themselves-those with no family, no parents. They had no need of much. They shared everything.
Eventually Charles and Raven are alone in the room. His last name is Xavier; of course he would be the last to be called, he thinks, though it doesn't occur to him until now that they had gone in alphabetical order.
There are chairs free now but he doesn't feel much like sitting. There is no way for him not to know that that he will be next. There's no one else here.
It seems like an eternity before a matronly woman opens the door, calls his name, and beckons him not unkindly to follow her. He skims the surface of her minds and knows now that he is, in fact, being taken to meet his partner.
He doesn't mean to intrude, but when he sees the information on the clipboard she's holding he can't help but use her eyes a bit to get a better look. He's anxious, and he wants to know.
He's been matched, apparently, with someone not much older than himself. Erik Lehnsherr is seventeen, and he has lived here for four years. His mutation is metal manipulation.
That's all the clipboard says, and he won't go into her mind farther, won't intrude to see if she knows more about him herself. It takes Charles a moment, too, to realize that she's been telling him what's on the clipboard anyway, as they've walked.
"He's been given the same basic information about you, but we don't want to impede the two of you getting to know each other by telling you more. You'll meet him in a moment. It's just up here…"
The room is small and bare, but then again most places are relatively bare these days, compared to before the war. It isn't much different from the room Charles and Raven were just in, but that it's smaller.
That, and the fact that the young man Charles is expected to procreate with is there, sitting straight in one of the few chairs around the edge of the room. He stands as soon the door opens, stand silently and stares, and Charles is more than a little self-conscious as the woman who brought him here nudges him gently into the room.
"Go on. He won't bite." She's closer to his ear for a moment, and she whispers, out of the other man's earshot. "I know Erik. He's a nice young man; he just has to warm up to you."
Charles lets out a breath, and the woman-Pamela, he corrects himself, drawing that much from her mind-takes Raven's other hand and pulls her back.
"Why don't you wait with me for a bit, dear?" she's saying, and Charles realizes that is probably the best idea he has heard all day.
"Charles?" Raven asks anxiously.
He nods her on and releases the small hand he's holding. "It's all right."
"Okay…" She looks across the room at the other man standing there, waiting silently. I don't know if I like him…she thinks, and Charles shushes her mentally.
I haven't even spoken to him yet. Let's save judgment, shall we?
Raven just rolls her eyes at him, still not understanding his tendency for vocabulary and more proper sentence structure when many people don't bother much with it anymore-no one but those older, like Pamela.
When Raven and the woman are gone the door shuts behind him, and Charles realizes he's still clutching their bag in his hands. Hastily he sets it down in a chair near the door and takes a tentative step forward.
"I uhm…"
He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what comes next.
The other man, Erik, comes closer slowly, stopping perhaps halfway through the small room. "You're Charles?" he asks.
"Yes. Charles Xavier. And…you're Erik Lehnsherr. Though Pamela there just told me that."
"If you're a telepath I don't imagine you would have needed her to know that."
"Well, no." Charles licks his lips nervously. "I ah…listen, I know that this must be a bit much for you. It is for everyone, but I'm…well, obviously I'm not-"
"A woman?"
Charles winces. "No. I mean, yes, that's right, I'm not. I mean…to be quite honest I'm still not certain I believe what they've told me…what they say that my DNA shows…but either way, I'll understand if you don't want to marry me. It's all right-"
"We'll be married," Erik says quickly, and Charles just blinks at him in surprise so he continues. "I won't have children with anyone to whom I'm not married. I wasn't raised that way. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
"No…" Charles says weakly. He doesn't really think he would want children without being married, either-without being sure they would have two present parents, certainly-but he doesn't understand why it's so important to this man, and he's searching before he realizes it. "You're Jewish," he surfaces almost immediately.
This time it is Erik who's surprised, but he quickly covers it and frowns. "Yes." But he quickly adds, "And I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my head."
"I'm sorry."
He really is. He doesn't want to offend this man on the first day they know each other.
For the first time Erik's expression softens, and Charles sees a bit of the person Pamela must know through the façade. "It's all right…just don't do it again."
And Charles realizes that the way this has been going so far he should still feel anxious, he should be unsure…but despite the walls Erik has pulled so tightly around him Charles isn't afraid of him. He's worried, perhaps, that he won't be able to break those walls…but somehow he already knows that this man would never hurt him by choice.
"Of course," he says quietly.
Erik nods curtly in thanks, and then they are both quiet. "You're right," Erik says after a bit.
"About what?" Charles asks. This time he makes himself move closer, until they're within normal conversational range, and Erik looks up again and studies him curiously.
"This is a bit much for me. All of it."
Charles manages a small smile. "Then I suppose we have that in common, at least." And Erik doesn't smile back, but he does raise an eyebrow.
It's somewhere to start.
They're married before the day is out, as are most of the girls Charles and Raven came here with. It's done simply-a short, functional ritual-and Charles doesn't see Raven again until it's over. Pamela finds them, brings Raven to them as they're coming from the office where the marriages are being officiated.
"Congratulations, my dears," she smiles, and lets Raven's hand loose so the young girl can all but tackle her brother.
"Charles! Are you okay?" she asks, as if Erik or being married might have hurt him. Charles gives her flashes, only brief images-speaking with Erik, the simple ritual-to assure her that everything is fine.
"I'm all right," he chuckles.
"Who is this?" Erik asks, clearly dumbfounded, and Charles picks up from him without really reading anything that he didn't know about this at all.
"My sister, Raven," he says, straightening. "We have no parents; there's no one else to care for her."
"She'll be living with us?"
"Yes," Charles says, and it isn't a question.
Thankfully, Erik doesn't protest. He only motions down the corridor. "The street exit is this way. Thank you, Mrs. Warren." Pamela. That's her last name. Erik nods to her and moves down the hallway, carrying Charles and Raven's bag now. He leads them from the building and halfway across the town, which Charles realizes is bigger then the one they've come from. It still isn't so terribly large, though, and the reasons for going to such lengths to preserve the population are still apparent.
Erik leads them to a small wooden house in a crowded neighborhood of other wooden houses that have obviously been recently built and all look nearly the same, and indeed Erik checks a number over the door before bringing them inside.
It's small…a kitchen/dining area inside on the main floor, with two doors off to the left, and to the right stairs that lead up.
Erik motions to the doors. "Those are a bathroom and a bedroom, and the upstairs is open, though there is one bed up there already. No one questioned you about your sister so I assume they knew and didn't mention it to me, or forgot to…the bed upstairs must be for her. I wondered why it was there."
"Ah..." Charles trails. Bedroom. There's only one real bedroom. But of course there's only one bedroom. They're married now. They're expected to have children as soon as they can manage it. Of course they'll share a bedroom. A bed.
Strange that these small details hadn't occurred to him before.
Not that they're so small though, really.
Charles swallows and nods to the stairs. "Raven, why don't we see what the upstairs looks like? If you're going to be sleeping there we ought to bring your things up anyway." He glances back at Erik, who hands him the bag, and Charles nods in thanks and follows Raven as she agrees happily and bounds up the stairs.
"Is she always like that?" Erik asks.
Charles's smile is easier now. "She is nothing if not enthusiastic. And…I suppose it helps that she doesn't remember anything better. She can be happy quite easily, and sometimes I envy her." He doesn't remember much himself, but he remembers enough. It's enough to for the sense of loss to be there-the sense he feels even more strongly in Erik. Even if not by much, Erik was older than he was when the war began. His memories are more clear.
Charles follows Raven up the stairs, and Erik stays behind. The stairs turn against the wall and lead to an upper floor of which the roof is the ceiling-slanted down from the middle. The upper floor is one large space, and it seems so empty now, but there is plenty enough space for several more beds and shelves, where now there is only one of each.
This, he realizes, is meant to be the children's room, when they arrive. He'd wondered how the small house could accommodate a family. And he supposes, when the children are older they could build partitions to give some privacy…
Why is he thinking about this now? He has yet to quite accept the fact that he's going to have children at all.
Raven is on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down a bit and smiling at him, but when he looks at her, her smile fades.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
Charles shakes himself out of it and crosses to her to sit by her on the bed. "Yes, I'm all right." He puts the bag between them, opens it and pulls out what belongs to her. "There's even a shelf, see? You can put your things on it."
"Wow…I've never had my own shelf before," she grins. She looks around. "Or my own room. But I guess it won't always be just mine, huh?" Raven looks at him again, curiously. "Are you and that man down there really going to have kids? Like the moms and dads back in our town have kids?"
"Well, that is the general idea…"
"Then who's gonna be the mom?"
Charles winces. "I suppose that would be me."
Raven climbs into his lap, and he holds her. "That's kinda weird," she says.
"Yes. Yes, it is," he sighs. "But it will be all right," he adds quickly. "We'll be fine here."
"How do you know? Do you like Erik? That's his name right…"
"Yes, that's his name. And I don't dislike him."
"He doesn't smile."
"We've known him for three hours, Raven. Give him a chance." And despite the feeling he had before, that he still has-that if nothing else, they are safe with Erik-Charles is still trying to convince himself more than he's convincing Raven, that everything will be all right.
He's still scared. Scared of the unknown. He can't help thinking over everything the girls talked about on the way here, again and again.
Would they learn to care about each other? Or would Erik always be like this? Not unkind, but quiet and stoic and not quite completely approachable.
"Okay, okay…" Raven is saying. "But if he hurts you, you find me and I'll kick his ass."
Those words from a seven-year-old's mouth are more than funny, though completely Raven, and Charles laughs and hugs her tightly. He needed that.
What's even funnier is that Raven is a shapeshifter. She could easily transform into someone bigger than anyone who might hurt him. She really could protect him if she wanted to. It had never been necessary, but it was possible.
Charles leaves Raven to fold her clothes and put them with her other things on the shelf by her new bed, and he goes back downstairs with the bag in hand that only holds his things now.
When he makes it downstairs Erik is pulling a pot from a cupboard and various ingredients from the shelves, and he sees that the pantry is somewhat stocked already.
"I'm afraid I can't cook," he comments quietly, wondering if, as he is taking the place of a bride, Erik had been expecting him to.
"I can," Erik says instead. "Even if you could I wouldn't make you do it your first night here."
Such a small statement, and it probably means nothing to Erik but it tells Charles quite a bit about him-what he's like beneath the surface that he keeps so immaculately kept up.
"How did you learn?" he asks, just to start any conversation at all.
"My mother taught me some of it, before the war."
Charles blinks. "And you remember? You were only Raven's age, weren't you? When it started?"
"How old is Raven?"
"Seven."
"I was eight."
Charles stares at him in confusion. "How…?"
"I won't be seventeen much longer," he explains. "A few weeks." He's several months older than Charles really thought. "How long have you been fifteen?" he's asking now.
"Oh, uhm…not long, actually. Only since last month," he admits.
So much closer to three years of difference than two, then. It shouldn't matter, not in the situation they find themselves in, not in this world, and Charles tries not to let it.
"So…your mother could cook well?"
"Quite well," Erik says, and it's the first time Charles really hears emotion in his voice. It's well hidden, but its there, though Charles supposes he's sensing it more than hearing it. "What about yours?" Still reciprocating questions, and Charles supposes Erik is trying to make an effort at this, too-at becoming more comfortable with one another.
But Charles hesitates before answering that question. As little as everyone has now, most aren't very happy with him when they discover how he spent the first years of his life. "Well we were…my parents never cooked, precisely…" He sighs. "But I would like to learn."
Erik pauses in what he's doing and looks back at him, finally. "I suppose I could teach you." Then one of those eyebrows went up. "But you could just pull it all from my memories, couldn't you?"
"I could. But you asked me to stay out of you head." Charles shrugs a bit. "I would rather you taught me, anyhow." Anything to make this easier. To help them build some sort of companionship, even if nothing else ever presents itself.
Erik nods, and though he still doesn't smile Charles feels a sense of warmth from him. "You can watch me now, if you want to." Charles glances at the bag still in his hands, and Erik does too. When he looks up again he casts his gaze awkwardly to the door he'd said before leads to the bedroom. "I guess you should put that in there…I left half of the shelf for you."
Charles nods, and Erik goes back to what he's doing as he crosses slowly to the door and tentatively nudges it open. He steps inside and closes it behind him, so that Erik won't be watching him take it in. He doesn't know why that matters, but this is the room he's going to be sharing with Erik-with his husband, and god, it's still strange-for the foreseeable future, and he'd rather see it for the first time on his own.
There isn't much more in here than there is upstairs. There is a shelf and a desk with a chair on either side of a window against the far wall, and a bed-one bed, quite a bit bigger than the child's bed upstairs. There is no questioning why this house is even here.
Charles sets his bag on the ground inside the door and looks at it all. It isn't much, but it's theirs.
That's the catch, though. Theirs. Not his. Theirs. He's let himself be tied to this man, and even though his turn to be paired has been coming for months-for months he knew that he would be forced on someone who didn't know him-it still seems as if its happened too fast. There was no way around it…he couldn't have said no entirely to the matching or he and Raven would have been put out of the town. That is the way the law works now, and he has to keep Raven safe.
But Erik is certainly not the worst he could have been assigned to. Perhaps this won't be so awful at all. It's gone well enough so far.
But what of the future? Not even the far future. What of tonight?
Charles flees from the room before he's even bothered to unpack his meager belongings, doing his best to make certain it doesn't appear as fleeing, and he watches Erik make a light dinner. Not that there is any other kind, really. Food is rationed.
Raven comes down to eat, and they all sit at the table, Raven praising Erik on his cooking skills and telling Charles silently that all right, maybe she likes him a little better now.
Charles just smiles to himself.
But all too soon night has fallen, Charles has put Raven to bed upstairs, and he and Erik are alone in the room that is now theirs. Charles has put his things on the shelf, and he sees now that Erik doesn't have much more than he and Raven do. They're starting this life in the same place.
Somehow that makes him feel a bit better.
But they're still sitting silently, awkwardly, on the same edge of the bed but at opposite ends.
Erik is the one to break the silence.
"We don't have to do this now," he says finally. "We have time…"
Charles frowns and looks away. "They expect new pairs to conceive within six months at the most. Preferably less. They expect us to have at two children within the first three years. Did they not give all of you the same briefing we were given?"
He doesn't see it but he sense Erik wincing. "We got the same information, Charles."
"Then you should understand that we can't wait," Charles sighs. "What they're expecting…it will be difficult enough as it is. But I suppose since we're all mutants that they feel they expect more from us than was usual in human statistics…"
"How do you know all of that?" Erik asks, confused, and Charles taps a temple with two fingertips.
"I know more than I could know one my own-I've learned about the world before from those who were there for much more of it. I know that what they're hoping for is certainly possible enough, but not necessarily easy."
He's still just as anxious as he was hours ago, still scared, but Charles also knows he's right.
They can't wait.
Erik looks at him for a long moment. "But we could wait a few days, at least. We don't have to do this right now."
Charles lets out a breath. Erik is also right, but…
"My friend, I'm afraid that if we wait it will be harder later," he whispers.
He's scared, yes, but there is also quite a large part of him that would rather have it over with. He knows it won't only be once-far from it-but he also knows that, hopefully, he won't have to be so anxious after the first time. He'll know what to expect.
Charles is fully prepared to let Erik have his way if he persists with the idea of waiting a bit, but Erik doesn't persist. Not exactly. Charles lets himself read a bit of Erik's feelings, surface thoughts, and he realizes that Erik is actually just as nervous as he is.
But beside that, he's concerned. For Charles.
And Charles decides that if Erik can feel that way for him already, then he doesn't mind the idea of being with this man at all.
"You're sure?" Erik asks at length.
"I'm as sure as I am going to be, I suppose." And Charles is able to smile, and he means it.
Word Count: 3,651 (Chapter) - 5,719 (Whole Fic)
Pairings: Charles/Erik, Raven/Hank, Sean/Moira, Scott/Jean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.
Warnings: mpreg, underaged characters for part of it but nothing explicit or anything
Twenty-Five Years Ago
When they arrive in the other settlement they're taken directly to the central building, lead inside to a room and asked to wait. One by one their names are called and they're led from the room, presumably being taken to meet the men they've been paired with. Charles stands against the wall, clutching Raven's hand and holding the one bag that contains everything they both own in his other.
In the town that was home for two years they lived with others like themselves-those with no family, no parents. They had no need of much. They shared everything.
Eventually Charles and Raven are alone in the room. His last name is Xavier; of course he would be the last to be called, he thinks, though it doesn't occur to him until now that they had gone in alphabetical order.
There are chairs free now but he doesn't feel much like sitting. There is no way for him not to know that that he will be next. There's no one else here.
It seems like an eternity before a matronly woman opens the door, calls his name, and beckons him not unkindly to follow her. He skims the surface of her minds and knows now that he is, in fact, being taken to meet his partner.
He doesn't mean to intrude, but when he sees the information on the clipboard she's holding he can't help but use her eyes a bit to get a better look. He's anxious, and he wants to know.
He's been matched, apparently, with someone not much older than himself. Erik Lehnsherr is seventeen, and he has lived here for four years. His mutation is metal manipulation.
That's all the clipboard says, and he won't go into her mind farther, won't intrude to see if she knows more about him herself. It takes Charles a moment, too, to realize that she's been telling him what's on the clipboard anyway, as they've walked.
"He's been given the same basic information about you, but we don't want to impede the two of you getting to know each other by telling you more. You'll meet him in a moment. It's just up here…"
The room is small and bare, but then again most places are relatively bare these days, compared to before the war. It isn't much different from the room Charles and Raven were just in, but that it's smaller.
That, and the fact that the young man Charles is expected to procreate with is there, sitting straight in one of the few chairs around the edge of the room. He stands as soon the door opens, stand silently and stares, and Charles is more than a little self-conscious as the woman who brought him here nudges him gently into the room.
"Go on. He won't bite." She's closer to his ear for a moment, and she whispers, out of the other man's earshot. "I know Erik. He's a nice young man; he just has to warm up to you."
Charles lets out a breath, and the woman-Pamela, he corrects himself, drawing that much from her mind-takes Raven's other hand and pulls her back.
"Why don't you wait with me for a bit, dear?" she's saying, and Charles realizes that is probably the best idea he has heard all day.
"Charles?" Raven asks anxiously.
He nods her on and releases the small hand he's holding. "It's all right."
"Okay…" She looks across the room at the other man standing there, waiting silently. I don't know if I like him…she thinks, and Charles shushes her mentally.
I haven't even spoken to him yet. Let's save judgment, shall we?
Raven just rolls her eyes at him, still not understanding his tendency for vocabulary and more proper sentence structure when many people don't bother much with it anymore-no one but those older, like Pamela.
When Raven and the woman are gone the door shuts behind him, and Charles realizes he's still clutching their bag in his hands. Hastily he sets it down in a chair near the door and takes a tentative step forward.
"I uhm…"
He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what comes next.
The other man, Erik, comes closer slowly, stopping perhaps halfway through the small room. "You're Charles?" he asks.
"Yes. Charles Xavier. And…you're Erik Lehnsherr. Though Pamela there just told me that."
"If you're a telepath I don't imagine you would have needed her to know that."
"Well, no." Charles licks his lips nervously. "I ah…listen, I know that this must be a bit much for you. It is for everyone, but I'm…well, obviously I'm not-"
"A woman?"
Charles winces. "No. I mean, yes, that's right, I'm not. I mean…to be quite honest I'm still not certain I believe what they've told me…what they say that my DNA shows…but either way, I'll understand if you don't want to marry me. It's all right-"
"We'll be married," Erik says quickly, and Charles just blinks at him in surprise so he continues. "I won't have children with anyone to whom I'm not married. I wasn't raised that way. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
"No…" Charles says weakly. He doesn't really think he would want children without being married, either-without being sure they would have two present parents, certainly-but he doesn't understand why it's so important to this man, and he's searching before he realizes it. "You're Jewish," he surfaces almost immediately.
This time it is Erik who's surprised, but he quickly covers it and frowns. "Yes." But he quickly adds, "And I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my head."
"I'm sorry."
He really is. He doesn't want to offend this man on the first day they know each other.
For the first time Erik's expression softens, and Charles sees a bit of the person Pamela must know through the façade. "It's all right…just don't do it again."
And Charles realizes that the way this has been going so far he should still feel anxious, he should be unsure…but despite the walls Erik has pulled so tightly around him Charles isn't afraid of him. He's worried, perhaps, that he won't be able to break those walls…but somehow he already knows that this man would never hurt him by choice.
"Of course," he says quietly.
Erik nods curtly in thanks, and then they are both quiet. "You're right," Erik says after a bit.
"About what?" Charles asks. This time he makes himself move closer, until they're within normal conversational range, and Erik looks up again and studies him curiously.
"This is a bit much for me. All of it."
Charles manages a small smile. "Then I suppose we have that in common, at least." And Erik doesn't smile back, but he does raise an eyebrow.
It's somewhere to start.
They're married before the day is out, as are most of the girls Charles and Raven came here with. It's done simply-a short, functional ritual-and Charles doesn't see Raven again until it's over. Pamela finds them, brings Raven to them as they're coming from the office where the marriages are being officiated.
"Congratulations, my dears," she smiles, and lets Raven's hand loose so the young girl can all but tackle her brother.
"Charles! Are you okay?" she asks, as if Erik or being married might have hurt him. Charles gives her flashes, only brief images-speaking with Erik, the simple ritual-to assure her that everything is fine.
"I'm all right," he chuckles.
"Who is this?" Erik asks, clearly dumbfounded, and Charles picks up from him without really reading anything that he didn't know about this at all.
"My sister, Raven," he says, straightening. "We have no parents; there's no one else to care for her."
"She'll be living with us?"
"Yes," Charles says, and it isn't a question.
Thankfully, Erik doesn't protest. He only motions down the corridor. "The street exit is this way. Thank you, Mrs. Warren." Pamela. That's her last name. Erik nods to her and moves down the hallway, carrying Charles and Raven's bag now. He leads them from the building and halfway across the town, which Charles realizes is bigger then the one they've come from. It still isn't so terribly large, though, and the reasons for going to such lengths to preserve the population are still apparent.
Erik leads them to a small wooden house in a crowded neighborhood of other wooden houses that have obviously been recently built and all look nearly the same, and indeed Erik checks a number over the door before bringing them inside.
It's small…a kitchen/dining area inside on the main floor, with two doors off to the left, and to the right stairs that lead up.
Erik motions to the doors. "Those are a bathroom and a bedroom, and the upstairs is open, though there is one bed up there already. No one questioned you about your sister so I assume they knew and didn't mention it to me, or forgot to…the bed upstairs must be for her. I wondered why it was there."
"Ah..." Charles trails. Bedroom. There's only one real bedroom. But of course there's only one bedroom. They're married now. They're expected to have children as soon as they can manage it. Of course they'll share a bedroom. A bed.
Strange that these small details hadn't occurred to him before.
Not that they're so small though, really.
Charles swallows and nods to the stairs. "Raven, why don't we see what the upstairs looks like? If you're going to be sleeping there we ought to bring your things up anyway." He glances back at Erik, who hands him the bag, and Charles nods in thanks and follows Raven as she agrees happily and bounds up the stairs.
"Is she always like that?" Erik asks.
Charles's smile is easier now. "She is nothing if not enthusiastic. And…I suppose it helps that she doesn't remember anything better. She can be happy quite easily, and sometimes I envy her." He doesn't remember much himself, but he remembers enough. It's enough to for the sense of loss to be there-the sense he feels even more strongly in Erik. Even if not by much, Erik was older than he was when the war began. His memories are more clear.
Charles follows Raven up the stairs, and Erik stays behind. The stairs turn against the wall and lead to an upper floor of which the roof is the ceiling-slanted down from the middle. The upper floor is one large space, and it seems so empty now, but there is plenty enough space for several more beds and shelves, where now there is only one of each.
This, he realizes, is meant to be the children's room, when they arrive. He'd wondered how the small house could accommodate a family. And he supposes, when the children are older they could build partitions to give some privacy…
Why is he thinking about this now? He has yet to quite accept the fact that he's going to have children at all.
Raven is on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down a bit and smiling at him, but when he looks at her, her smile fades.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
Charles shakes himself out of it and crosses to her to sit by her on the bed. "Yes, I'm all right." He puts the bag between them, opens it and pulls out what belongs to her. "There's even a shelf, see? You can put your things on it."
"Wow…I've never had my own shelf before," she grins. She looks around. "Or my own room. But I guess it won't always be just mine, huh?" Raven looks at him again, curiously. "Are you and that man down there really going to have kids? Like the moms and dads back in our town have kids?"
"Well, that is the general idea…"
"Then who's gonna be the mom?"
Charles winces. "I suppose that would be me."
Raven climbs into his lap, and he holds her. "That's kinda weird," she says.
"Yes. Yes, it is," he sighs. "But it will be all right," he adds quickly. "We'll be fine here."
"How do you know? Do you like Erik? That's his name right…"
"Yes, that's his name. And I don't dislike him."
"He doesn't smile."
"We've known him for three hours, Raven. Give him a chance." And despite the feeling he had before, that he still has-that if nothing else, they are safe with Erik-Charles is still trying to convince himself more than he's convincing Raven, that everything will be all right.
He's still scared. Scared of the unknown. He can't help thinking over everything the girls talked about on the way here, again and again.
Would they learn to care about each other? Or would Erik always be like this? Not unkind, but quiet and stoic and not quite completely approachable.
"Okay, okay…" Raven is saying. "But if he hurts you, you find me and I'll kick his ass."
Those words from a seven-year-old's mouth are more than funny, though completely Raven, and Charles laughs and hugs her tightly. He needed that.
What's even funnier is that Raven is a shapeshifter. She could easily transform into someone bigger than anyone who might hurt him. She really could protect him if she wanted to. It had never been necessary, but it was possible.
Charles leaves Raven to fold her clothes and put them with her other things on the shelf by her new bed, and he goes back downstairs with the bag in hand that only holds his things now.
When he makes it downstairs Erik is pulling a pot from a cupboard and various ingredients from the shelves, and he sees that the pantry is somewhat stocked already.
"I'm afraid I can't cook," he comments quietly, wondering if, as he is taking the place of a bride, Erik had been expecting him to.
"I can," Erik says instead. "Even if you could I wouldn't make you do it your first night here."
Such a small statement, and it probably means nothing to Erik but it tells Charles quite a bit about him-what he's like beneath the surface that he keeps so immaculately kept up.
"How did you learn?" he asks, just to start any conversation at all.
"My mother taught me some of it, before the war."
Charles blinks. "And you remember? You were only Raven's age, weren't you? When it started?"
"How old is Raven?"
"Seven."
"I was eight."
Charles stares at him in confusion. "How…?"
"I won't be seventeen much longer," he explains. "A few weeks." He's several months older than Charles really thought. "How long have you been fifteen?" he's asking now.
"Oh, uhm…not long, actually. Only since last month," he admits.
So much closer to three years of difference than two, then. It shouldn't matter, not in the situation they find themselves in, not in this world, and Charles tries not to let it.
"So…your mother could cook well?"
"Quite well," Erik says, and it's the first time Charles really hears emotion in his voice. It's well hidden, but its there, though Charles supposes he's sensing it more than hearing it. "What about yours?" Still reciprocating questions, and Charles supposes Erik is trying to make an effort at this, too-at becoming more comfortable with one another.
But Charles hesitates before answering that question. As little as everyone has now, most aren't very happy with him when they discover how he spent the first years of his life. "Well we were…my parents never cooked, precisely…" He sighs. "But I would like to learn."
Erik pauses in what he's doing and looks back at him, finally. "I suppose I could teach you." Then one of those eyebrows went up. "But you could just pull it all from my memories, couldn't you?"
"I could. But you asked me to stay out of you head." Charles shrugs a bit. "I would rather you taught me, anyhow." Anything to make this easier. To help them build some sort of companionship, even if nothing else ever presents itself.
Erik nods, and though he still doesn't smile Charles feels a sense of warmth from him. "You can watch me now, if you want to." Charles glances at the bag still in his hands, and Erik does too. When he looks up again he casts his gaze awkwardly to the door he'd said before leads to the bedroom. "I guess you should put that in there…I left half of the shelf for you."
Charles nods, and Erik goes back to what he's doing as he crosses slowly to the door and tentatively nudges it open. He steps inside and closes it behind him, so that Erik won't be watching him take it in. He doesn't know why that matters, but this is the room he's going to be sharing with Erik-with his husband, and god, it's still strange-for the foreseeable future, and he'd rather see it for the first time on his own.
There isn't much more in here than there is upstairs. There is a shelf and a desk with a chair on either side of a window against the far wall, and a bed-one bed, quite a bit bigger than the child's bed upstairs. There is no questioning why this house is even here.
Charles sets his bag on the ground inside the door and looks at it all. It isn't much, but it's theirs.
That's the catch, though. Theirs. Not his. Theirs. He's let himself be tied to this man, and even though his turn to be paired has been coming for months-for months he knew that he would be forced on someone who didn't know him-it still seems as if its happened too fast. There was no way around it…he couldn't have said no entirely to the matching or he and Raven would have been put out of the town. That is the way the law works now, and he has to keep Raven safe.
But Erik is certainly not the worst he could have been assigned to. Perhaps this won't be so awful at all. It's gone well enough so far.
But what of the future? Not even the far future. What of tonight?
Charles flees from the room before he's even bothered to unpack his meager belongings, doing his best to make certain it doesn't appear as fleeing, and he watches Erik make a light dinner. Not that there is any other kind, really. Food is rationed.
Raven comes down to eat, and they all sit at the table, Raven praising Erik on his cooking skills and telling Charles silently that all right, maybe she likes him a little better now.
Charles just smiles to himself.
But all too soon night has fallen, Charles has put Raven to bed upstairs, and he and Erik are alone in the room that is now theirs. Charles has put his things on the shelf, and he sees now that Erik doesn't have much more than he and Raven do. They're starting this life in the same place.
Somehow that makes him feel a bit better.
But they're still sitting silently, awkwardly, on the same edge of the bed but at opposite ends.
Erik is the one to break the silence.
"We don't have to do this now," he says finally. "We have time…"
Charles frowns and looks away. "They expect new pairs to conceive within six months at the most. Preferably less. They expect us to have at two children within the first three years. Did they not give all of you the same briefing we were given?"
He doesn't see it but he sense Erik wincing. "We got the same information, Charles."
"Then you should understand that we can't wait," Charles sighs. "What they're expecting…it will be difficult enough as it is. But I suppose since we're all mutants that they feel they expect more from us than was usual in human statistics…"
"How do you know all of that?" Erik asks, confused, and Charles taps a temple with two fingertips.
"I know more than I could know one my own-I've learned about the world before from those who were there for much more of it. I know that what they're hoping for is certainly possible enough, but not necessarily easy."
He's still just as anxious as he was hours ago, still scared, but Charles also knows he's right.
They can't wait.
Erik looks at him for a long moment. "But we could wait a few days, at least. We don't have to do this right now."
Charles lets out a breath. Erik is also right, but…
"My friend, I'm afraid that if we wait it will be harder later," he whispers.
He's scared, yes, but there is also quite a large part of him that would rather have it over with. He knows it won't only be once-far from it-but he also knows that, hopefully, he won't have to be so anxious after the first time. He'll know what to expect.
Charles is fully prepared to let Erik have his way if he persists with the idea of waiting a bit, but Erik doesn't persist. Not exactly. Charles lets himself read a bit of Erik's feelings, surface thoughts, and he realizes that Erik is actually just as nervous as he is.
But beside that, he's concerned. For Charles.
And Charles decides that if Erik can feel that way for him already, then he doesn't mind the idea of being with this man at all.
"You're sure?" Erik asks at length.
"I'm as sure as I am going to be, I suppose." And Charles is able to smile, and he means it.