FIC: An Earlier Heaven - Charles/Erik, XMFC - (6/??)
Title: An Earlier Heaven (6/??)
Author: Regann
Pairing: Charles/Erik (XMFC)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~5,100 for the chapter (total: 50,000+)
Warnings: mpreg
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Notes: None.
Summary: In the wake of Cuba, Charles and his students are ready to pick up the pieces and work toward achieving Charles's dream of a safe haven for young mutants. Those plans, however, take a surprising turn thanks to a very unexpected complication. As he slowly builds a future for his students and for his child, Charles struggles with the loss of Erik and the secrets he's willing to keep to protect his family, but those strides are shattered when Erik makes a startling reappearance into his life. [mpreg, kidfic, ensemble]
Previous Parts available at LJ, DW and AO3.
An Earlier Heaven (Part 6)
Charles tried to tell himself that it wasn't cowardice that kept him in his study or fear that had him keep Jean by his side, but doing so only meant he was lying to himself. He knew it wasn't even rational on his part to fear Erik the way he did, but all of the vague concerns he'd had before Jean had been born had come back in full force now that he had Erik prowling the halls. As much as he would miss Raven once she was gone again, Charles would be relieved when the Erik who haunted him was only the one in his memories.
But his wasn't the only mental distress in the household, and Charles couldn't let his boys -- and it was how he thought of them, no matter how close they were in age -- suffer by themselves. Sean was on the most even keel of them all, as was Darwin, despite his ambivalent feelings toward both Angel and Erik. Hank and Alex, on the other hand, had been thrust rather forcefully into confronting some simmering emotions that they had been able to ignore since the Cuban mission.
"You wanted to talk to me?" Hank asked when he appeared at the doorway to Charles's study in response to a mental request for his presence.
Charles motioned for him to come in and close the door before he spoke. "I wanted to check on you," he admitted. "I know having Raven here isn't easy on you."
"I'm not exactly thrilled about Erik or Angel either," he said dryly, sinking down into one of the chairs.
"You know what I mean, Hank," Charles said.
Hank sighed. "I don't have to tell you," he said. "For more reasons than one. I just didn't think it would be this hard having to see her again."
"She'll be gone in a few days," Charles reminded him and he wasn't certain if he meant it as a comfort or a warning.
"I know. She'll go back with Erik and they'll do whatever it is they do and...."
"You'll still be stuck here," Charles said with sympathy.
"She doesn't understand," Hank said. "I know she always thought I didn't, but now, she's the one who really can't. Just because she's all "Mutant and Proud" doesn't change the fact that she can hide her mutation when she needs to. She might not like it, she might even hate it, but doesn't change the fact that she has a mechanism by which she can blend in when she needs to. Look at me." Hank held up his furry blue arms, wiggling his claws. "I can't hide this. I'm trapped." Hank sank back in his seat, radiating his troubled thoughts with his posture. "I bet she thinks it's what I deserve for trying to fix myself in the first place."
"Is that what you think?" Charles asked softly. "That your transformation is some kind of...divine punishment visited upon you because you wanted to change?"
"I don't know." His voice was low, barely above a rumble. His words might've been ambiguous but his feelings were not -- in some way, Hank felt like he deserved to be punished and that his new form was that sentence.
Charles watched him for a moment. "I made a lot of mistakes myself, you know," he began. "I've probably made more in the time you've known me than you've made in your entire life. Do you think this..." -- and he patted the arm of his wheelchair -- "...is my punishment, like your form is yours?"
"Of course not!" Hank's answer was swift and vehement. "How could I ever think that, Charles? What happened to you was..."
"...a very unfortunate accident," he finished, cutting off Hank's thought of Erik's fault. "And what about Jean? Some would say a child, born out of wedlock, even in the most normal of circumstances is a punishment on a woman who got herself in trouble. Surely, that would be doubly true in my case."
"No," Hank said, still fierce. "Jean's not a punishment. She's..."
"The thing I love most on this earth," Charles said with a sad smile. "And while unexpected, I don't regret her, even if she is the product of some very bad decisions on my part. Which is my point, Hank." He made sure his eyes were holding Hank's as he continued. "You made a mistake -- whether that mistake was wanting to change in the first place or whether it was trying an untested serum on yourself is really up to you to decide for yourself. Not me, not Raven, not anyone. But it was just a mistake, nothing more."
"Logically, I know that," Hank said. "But here..." He tapped a large fist against his chest.
"I know," Charles agreed, folding his hands in his lap. "Regrets have a way of eating at you -- at everyone, for whatever reason. But you can't let them consume you."
"I realize that."
"And you especially cannot let Raven tie you up in knots over this," he added.
"I don't want her to, I don't," Hank said, shaking his head. "But I can't help it. I can't just sit there and be all cool and collected like you can."
"Oh, Hank," Charles said with a faint laugh that lacked all humor. "You're quite mistaken if you think I handle anything by being cool and collected, particularly not our current visitors." When Hank gave him a disbelieving look, he pointed out, "Haven't you noticed? I've practically hidden myself and Jean away in this room, and I've got Sean or one of you off with the other students at all times."
"You're just being cautious," Hank told him.
"Some might say paranoid."
Hank thought for a moment, then he cracked a grin. "Maybe a little," he conceded.
"It's fine if your regrets make you wary, Hank," he said. "Just don't let it cut you off completely, yes?"
Charles was aware of Hank mulling over his words in his head, along with abstracts flashes of images that made little sense to Charles. After a moment, he nodded, almost to himself, before he glanced back at Charles.
"Better?" Charles asked.
"A little," he said. "I think."
"You don't have to talk to Raven if you don't want," he assured him. "I can make her leave you alone."
"You'd do that?" Hank said, eyes wide, wiggling his fingers near his head to mimic Charles's power.
He rolled his eyes. "I meant I'd ask her, Hank."
"Oh, right," Hank said with an embarrassed little laugh, but it was much lighter than what he'd sounded like when he'd first come in. After a few more minutes of chitchat, he sent the young scientist on his way, feeling that he had at least accomplished something.
Of course, that still left him with Alex.
Alex's current mental state was like a rash, angry and distracting and pulsing with infection. Charles couldn't even be certain why Alex was angry because of the inflammation to the surface of his thoughts caused by his constant resentment. It reminded him a little of how it had felt to first touch Erik's thoughts down in Florida when Charles had sensed him specifically even surrounded by hundreds of other minds, drawn like a beacon to the anger and pain Erik had been broadcasting for anyone gifted enough to hear it. It was an ironic though apt comparison because so much of Alex's anger was directed at Erik, though wisps of it were directed at others -- Raven, Angel, even Charles.
Steeling himself for it, Charles sent out a mental summons for Alex and took the time before he'd arrive to check on Jean. He hated keeping her confined to his study just because of his own paranoia, so he'd had Sean take her for a few hours, where she could demand the delighted attention of Sean, Ororo and Ilyana, the latter two still under the amusing impression that a ten-month-old was the one of the best playthings ever created. Sean had brought her back when it had been time for her afternoon nap and she was still lost in slumber in her crib, obviously knackered from so much concentrated playtime between Raven, Sean and the girls.
He was still there, looking down at Jean, when Alex slipped in a few minutes later.
"Is something wrong with Jean?" he asked immediately, a ready frown spreading over his features.
"No, she's quite fine," Charles assured him, shaking off the residual effects of such close contact with Alex's tumultuous emotional state. "In fact, she's probably doing better than everyone else in this house, at the moment."
Alex shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants. "That's because she's too little to know what's going on."
"Thank goodness for that," Charles said.
That earned him a tiny smile from Alex, but the boy was far too tense for Charles's liking. He watched him with a placid, steady gaze until Alex snapped, "What?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" Alex asked with a shrug, looking much like he must've as a surly fourteen-year-old.
"Oh anything that'll help you gain even a fraction of the calm you've lost in the past twelve hours," Charles said. "Honestly, you're more keyed up than you were when they first showed up."
"Because every minute they're here makes it worse," Alex said. "I want them gone."
"You are among the majority in that opinion," Charles said. "I don't think even they want to stay any longer than they must."
"How can you be so calm about this?" Alex demanded. "The enemy is right under our roof."
"One, you're the second person who has mistakenly accused me of being calm," Charles informed him. "I assure you, it's all a facade. Two, do you really consider Raven your enemy? Honestly?"
"Maybe not Raven," he admitted with a sigh. "But she's not much better. How can you not be madder about her leaving you on the beach?"
"Every child grows up," Charles said, glancing over at Jean's crib. "Even little sisters. I couldn't stop her from going with Erik when he's what she wanted, when he could give her the freedom she craved. That would've been cruel."
"She should've been selfless enough to stay at least long enough to make sure you didn't die," Alex said. "Erik, too."
For a horrifying moment, Charles wondered if he'd misread Alex's anger toward Raven and Erik wrong all those months, if what it had been hiding had been some kind of misplaced envy because Alex regretted not taking his chance to go with them to the Brotherhood. But, as Charles probed at what lay beneath the anger, what he found was far more simple and complex than envy.
"I wouldn't want them here like that," Charles told him. "I wouldn't want them with me out of some sense of guilt or obligation. That would only turn to resentment which is no way to live. And," he added, "I don't want you staying here for that, either."
"Professor." Alex looked shocked, stumbling a little as he sank down in the chair closest to Charles. "You don't think..."
"No, I don't," he said, leaning over to give Alex's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I can tell you're here because this is where you want to be, because this is where you feel like your family is."
Alex flushed a little at the mention of family. "Yeah, I mean, you're cool and so is Sean and Darwin, even Hank. And the new kids, too. And Jean, of course."
"Of course," Charles smiled. "I don't believe that blood makes a family any more than I think our mutations make us better or worse than other humans. I do think of you as family, you know."
"Yeah?" Alex said, looking down at his hands, refusing to meet Charles's gaze.
"Yes," he agreed. "I hope you think of me that way, too. I know we didn't necessarily start out that way, but after we'd spent some time here together, training...you all were more than just a team to me."
Charles had learned the hard way over the three decades of his life that being a telepath didn't automatically mean he knew the right thing to say for the right occasion. If he'd needed any further proof of that fact, he'd only need to look at the ways he'd hurt Raven over the years with the careless things he'd said, something he hadn't understood until he'd touched her mind on the beach and felt how much every fiber in her being longed to follow Erik into whatever future he envisioned. And then there was Erik, someone he'd loved as much as he'd ever imagined he could love anyone, almost from the moment they'd met, and months hadn't made Charles able to choose the right words when they'd counted most.
And now there was Alex, who needed validation so badly but had hidden it so well under his anger that Charles had missed it for years.
"And now, I really couldn't imagine how I'd get on without all of you," he said. "You, Hank, Sean, Darwin...I think of you like I think of Raven or even Jean. Since I first brought you all to my home, you've been my family."
Despite the horrified, embarrassed expression on Alex's face, Charles could feel how pleased he was, deep down, how much his feelings about them all was part of his anger and hurt. "I didn't really have anybody," Alex admitted quietly. He coughed, ran a hand through his hair before he risked a glance up. "You know, before. Jail and all."
"I think we were all incredibly lonely before we found others like ourselves," Charles said, thinking of the rush of emotions he'd felt from Erik as he'd repeated I thought I was alone. "I was incredibly lucky to find Raven so early in my life."
"Yeah," Alex nodded.
"So it makes sense," Charles continued, searching for Alex's reaction to every word he said. "It makes sense that you feel so strongly about the members of your family who have...left you, Alex. You don't have to pretend that doesn't hurt." Before Alex could open his mouth to protest, Charles tapped at his temple. "And please? Remember that I'm a telepath."
Alex flashed him a ghost of a grin. "Point," he said.
"I know that you're hurt that Erik and Raven left us on the beach because I -- you -- we -- because they were part of our family. I understand, believe me. But all the anger in the world isn't going to make it better."
Alex's shoulders slumped down. "I just -- whenever I think about it for too long and especially when I see them -- Erik. I just..." He clenched a fist against his thigh.
Charles could clearly sense what Alex felt for Erik beneath all the anger, the way he'd started to look up to him and cast him in a paternal light, a figure he respected and wanted to follow -- only for Erik to destroy that when he'd abandoned them on the beach. He couldn't help but ache at the reminder of all the things Erik had crushed with his decisions on the beach that day.
"I'm not asking you to forgive him," Charles told him. "But I meant what I said about him not being the enemy. Until he does something that truly warrants that designation, let's keep the bloodshed to a minimum, shall we?"
"Yeah, okay," Alex agreed, the grin gaining a little. "But I don't make any promises if he makes the first move. It's on, then."
"Absolutely," Charles agreed. "I'm not unfamiliar with wanting to protect things from Erik."
Alex's eyes wandered over to the crib. "I know you don't want to admit it, but it's just a matter of time before he crosses that line, Charles," Alex told him. "That is, if he hasn't crossed it already and we just don't know yet. One day, he's going to be the enemy."
Charles closed his eyes. "I know."
"That's why you don't want him to know about Jean."
"One of the reasons, anyway."
"I'm sorry, you know," Alex said, his eyes full of a sudden sympathy that Charles could feel creeping over the edges of his mind. "That he was an asshole to you. That you loved him and he still left you."
Something neutral and deflective was on the tip of Charles's tongue but he thought of the vulnerabilities he'd exposed in his young friend that afternoon and thought, maybe, Alex needed to see that Charles had his own, as well.
"So I am," Charles said quietly, emotion plain in his voice. "So I am."
**
It didn't take a genius to figure out that the majority of the household was hiding from them, Erik noted on his second morning at the Xavier manor. When he was not actively seeking out someone such as he'd done with Charles on that first day, Erik could go hours without any indication that anyone other than he, Raven and Angel occupied the house, despite the half-dozen other people who called it home. Other than Jean, Erik hadn't even seen a trace of the younger children he knew Charles had taken under his tutelage.
Erik also knew that the sudden quiet in the halls of the rambling estate was for his benefit, or at least the benefit of his team. Unlike himself, Raven had no problem seeking out the people she wanted to interact with, even if that person was Hank who seemed to keep himself cloistered in his laboratory in between shouting matches with the shapeshifter. Sean might as well as have been a ghost for all Erik saw him, and Alex was obviously keeping as much distance as possible between them. Even Charles seemed content to stay shuttered away in his study all day, something that struck Erik as patently false behavior. For all his bookishness, Charles had always remained active, moving, as if there were too much going on in his brain to let him rest for very long.
Even as he thought it, though, Erik was struck with the reminder that he likely didn't know much about how Charles acted at present because two important things had changed since he was last privy to Charles's moods and methods -- Charles had been paralyzed and he'd become a father.
It was strange to feel the twist of guilt-anger-pain that came with that memory, guilt for the former and anger for the latter. Even if he'd never admit it anyone, Erik did carry guilt in him for how he'd left Charles, bloody and broken, on the beach, for how he'd done that to Charles himself, a careless flick of his hand in a moment of anger that had ended Charles's life as he'd known it. Torturing himself over it, however, would not change the matter and regret, he knew, was a useless, wasteful emotion. It had no place in Erik's world, not in the future he was building for the betterment of mutantkind.
With Raven wrapped up either with Hank or her brother, and Angel dealing with her own issues over Darwin's miraculous return, Erik had taken to wandering a-field, close enough to the manor in case there was danger, but far enough away that he felt outside of the reach of his reluctant hosts. Not that there was anything Charles could read from him with his helmet firmly in place, but he still sometimes thought he could feel the brush of the telepath's mind, an absent touch like fingers ghosting over skin. The farther away he was from Charles, the less he felt the press of that phantom sensation on him.
It was as he returned from one of these long walks early on that second morning that he heard the voices of three of Charles's wards rising and falling together in what was clearly a serious discussion. He'd been coming toward the kitchen to find himself something to eat for breakfast before the rest of the household woke, but Darwin, Sean and Alex had obviously beaten him to it, something else that had changed since his first stay at the manor. Rather than announce his presence, Erik let his steps slow and instead listened intently.
"...day or two more, at least the most," Sean was saying. Erik could make out the sounds of silverware meeting china. "Then we can go back to our actual lives and not this Twilight Zone we've got going right now."
"It still makes me nervous." Alex, of course. "I don't like him being here."
"That's not exactly news, Alex," Darwin answered. "Where's Hank this morning?"
"Hiding from Raven," Sean snorted. "I think he's literally barricaded the door to keep her out. I think he's sleeping in there, too."
"Charles isn't much better," Alex said. "But at least I understand his reasons."
"A guy puts a bullet in your back, I can see the desire to stay away," Darwin agreed mildly, and Erik tried not to flinch at the bald statement. "No matter how close you were before."
"Yeah, that, but I didn't mean that," Alex answered with a sigh. "I was talking more about Jean."
That hadn't been what Erik had been expecting to hear.
"Another perfectly valid concern," Darwin agreed, although Erik didn't see why there was any concern about him regarding Jean Xavier. "I know how protective Charles is about it."
"We all are," Sean added. "We all agreed to watch out for her, especially when it comes to Erik."
Erik frowned, wondering when the conversation would start to make sense again. He couldn't understand why anyone would think he'd harm an infant, no matter how badly they viewed his choices. They knew him, especially Charles; the continued anxiety among them that he was a danger to a harmless child hurt him more than he'd expected, even though he'd spent years steeling himself for the day he'd have to look at one of them across a battlefield.
"I remember," Darwin said. "You didn't even want to tell me."
"I did," Alex said. "I never would keep something like that from you. You're one of us."
"Thanks, man," Darwin replied and Erik could hear the smile in his voice, even as he slowly backed away from the kitchen, silently moving through the house until he was alone in his room.
He didn't particularly like the memories the room conjured up in him or the fact that it put him very near Charles's bedroom, but it felt safer than anywhere else in the manor. He couldn't stop himself from playing the conversation he'd just heard over in his head, examining each word for some nuance he'd missed. It was obvious they'd been talking around something -- something about Jean, something that Charles was hiding about her, especially from Erik, though he couldn't fathom what that secret could be. Her parentage might not have been openly broadcast, but it was easy -- albeit painful -- to conclude and, whether she was a mutant or not meant little to Erik. He could think of no secret about Charles's child that would be worth the preoccupation Charles's pupils seemed to give it.
But he could've missed something; he was not so infallible to believe he couldn't and since he had nothing better to do with his time until Emma contacted Raven or Angel, it was a harmless distraction, to ponder the mysterious secret a ten-month-old child could be harboring.
When Erik stepped out of his room a few minutes later, he had a new destination in mind. He walked down the corridor and gave the closed door to Charles's bedroom a hard stare before stepping through the open one across the hall. The room was empty, as Erik had expected, painted a cheery yellow that made it glow with the sunlight that came through the windows. Erik had encountered exactly one other nursery room in his life and that small closet of a space had no comparison to what he saw now.
The room boasted furniture that looked to be antique in origin, made of the heavy dark wood that Charles's family seemed to prefer. The one, significant anomaly to that was the crib which, while made from a similar wood, had a stream-lined design that made Erik sure it was a new addition, perhaps even one designed by Hank. One side of the room seemed to be overflowing with a mountain of toys and stuffed animals that a child Jean's age couldn't possibly appreciate yet and everything seemed to be done in shades of yellow and apricot, not a hint of pink to be found.
Erik, as he ran a finger down the line of the crib, couldn't help but wonder who had made the decisions that led to the circumstances he'd found at the mansion when he'd arrived. Had Moira agreed to give up her child to Charles to raise? Or had Charles made the decision for her in line with his own thoughts on the subject, as he had for Raven for so much of her life? Had she chosen the paint and linens for her daughter's room, never knowing she wouldn't remember her in a few months? As little as he cared about humans, including Moira, he couldn't help the sympathy he had for her situation, thinking about what she'd lost in losing her memories of her child. He didn't care how absolute Charles's powers were, there was a spiritual connection between a parent and a child, and Moira would always feel it, even if it was only enough to know she'd lost something she couldn't replace.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement below outside the window and his gaze followed it. It was Charles, Erik realized, almost surprised to see him. He was sitting out on the patio with Jean in his arms, looking out over the expanse of the estate. Before he could stop himself, Erik swept out of the room and down the stairs, toward that same patio.
This time he did nothing to hide his approach, even as he caught bits of the one-sided conversation Charles was having with Jean.
"Yes, yes, I know you want down," Charles was telling the squirming infant, the laughter in his voice so carefree that it hit like a physical pain in Erik's chest. "But you're not really dressed for it. In fact, you lack shoes, my dear." Erik stepped outside as Charles laughed again, still trying to make Jean settle in his arms. "Socks aren't really made for the task alone, I'm afraid."
He took a deep breath before he spoke, hoping his tone would be light enough that he wouldn't be immediately rebuffed. "I don't think she's swayed by your authority on the subject."
Erik watched Charles go tense through his shoulders for the split second after he spoke, then slowly -- consciously -- release it. He turned his head a little to watch Erik as he came around from behind him. "Erik," he said in surprise, almost involuntarily before he focused on what Erik had actually said. "No, she's not swayed at all. She's very stubborn."
"I can't imagine where she inherited that," Erik said, trying to smile to soften his words.
Charles cocked his head and looked at him for a long moment. "Her father. There's no doubt about that."
It wasn't the answer Erik was expecting, though it was the one he had been inferring. It startled a laugh out of him, a quick sound that won him Jean's attention in a way his words hadn't. Before he knew how to react, Erik found himself under the intense scrutiny of a second pair of bright blue eyes, painfully reminiscent of Charles's. She was a lovely child, with her bright red curls and even brighter eyes, though they were the only thing of Charles Erik saw in her. He saw little of Moira other than the hair, which was surprising, though he knew little of the science behind it. Erik was certain Charles could explain the genetics to him if he asked, but those days were long gone.
He didn't really think about it before he stepped forward. "Perhaps I can offer a compromise?"
Charles's eyes widened a little, betraying his surprise. "Do you...you want to hold her?"
"That was the idea," Erik said.
Another thing that hurt -- watching Charles clearly debate the proposition with himself, looking back at Erik's outstretched hands with more trepidation than he'd shown when they'd faced Shaw. He even thought he saw an aborted flick of Charles's right hand, as if he'd been planning to bring his fingers to his temple before remembering how futile a gesture it was.
Erik was almost ready to give up on the tentative offer when Charles finally nodded, holding her up a little for him to take. "Here you go, then."
It must've been instinct that let Erik settle Jean securely against him in his arms because he had precious little experience with it. Jean seemed content with the new arrangement, now that she was lifted higher than her father's lap, studying Erik with a seriousness that belied her age. Then, with great gusto, she began to tug at the edges of his helmet with her chubby little hands.
"You might want to watch her," Charles said, amusement warming his voice. "She's already decided that Raven's scales are a challenge she's ready to face."
Erik used one hand to gently bat Jean's away from his face so he could speak without worrying about her fingers ending up in his mouth. She seemed to think it was a new game and lunged for his fingers, babbling out her amusement. "At least she's distracted enough that she's not trying to escape."
"No," Charles agreed. He watched Erik jostle his daughter around for a moment. "She...likes you."
"Don't sound so surprised," Erik teased before he thought better of it.
"Oh, I'm not," Charles said, strangely stricken by the confession. "I never thought it would be otherwise."
When Erik looked down at him to see if he could understand why, all he saw was Charles's eyes watching Jean with a painful, all-consuming expression of love that made him turn away even as jealousy for it twisted in his gut.
**
End of Part 6
This entry was originally posted at http://regann.dreamwidth.org/439074.html. Comment on either post.
Author: Regann
Pairing: Charles/Erik (XMFC)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~5,100 for the chapter (total: 50,000+)
Warnings: mpreg
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Notes: None.
Summary: In the wake of Cuba, Charles and his students are ready to pick up the pieces and work toward achieving Charles's dream of a safe haven for young mutants. Those plans, however, take a surprising turn thanks to a very unexpected complication. As he slowly builds a future for his students and for his child, Charles struggles with the loss of Erik and the secrets he's willing to keep to protect his family, but those strides are shattered when Erik makes a startling reappearance into his life. [mpreg, kidfic, ensemble]
Previous Parts available at LJ, DW and AO3.
An Earlier Heaven (Part 6)
Charles tried to tell himself that it wasn't cowardice that kept him in his study or fear that had him keep Jean by his side, but doing so only meant he was lying to himself. He knew it wasn't even rational on his part to fear Erik the way he did, but all of the vague concerns he'd had before Jean had been born had come back in full force now that he had Erik prowling the halls. As much as he would miss Raven once she was gone again, Charles would be relieved when the Erik who haunted him was only the one in his memories.
But his wasn't the only mental distress in the household, and Charles couldn't let his boys -- and it was how he thought of them, no matter how close they were in age -- suffer by themselves. Sean was on the most even keel of them all, as was Darwin, despite his ambivalent feelings toward both Angel and Erik. Hank and Alex, on the other hand, had been thrust rather forcefully into confronting some simmering emotions that they had been able to ignore since the Cuban mission.
"You wanted to talk to me?" Hank asked when he appeared at the doorway to Charles's study in response to a mental request for his presence.
Charles motioned for him to come in and close the door before he spoke. "I wanted to check on you," he admitted. "I know having Raven here isn't easy on you."
"I'm not exactly thrilled about Erik or Angel either," he said dryly, sinking down into one of the chairs.
"You know what I mean, Hank," Charles said.
Hank sighed. "I don't have to tell you," he said. "For more reasons than one. I just didn't think it would be this hard having to see her again."
"She'll be gone in a few days," Charles reminded him and he wasn't certain if he meant it as a comfort or a warning.
"I know. She'll go back with Erik and they'll do whatever it is they do and...."
"You'll still be stuck here," Charles said with sympathy.
"She doesn't understand," Hank said. "I know she always thought I didn't, but now, she's the one who really can't. Just because she's all "Mutant and Proud" doesn't change the fact that she can hide her mutation when she needs to. She might not like it, she might even hate it, but doesn't change the fact that she has a mechanism by which she can blend in when she needs to. Look at me." Hank held up his furry blue arms, wiggling his claws. "I can't hide this. I'm trapped." Hank sank back in his seat, radiating his troubled thoughts with his posture. "I bet she thinks it's what I deserve for trying to fix myself in the first place."
"Is that what you think?" Charles asked softly. "That your transformation is some kind of...divine punishment visited upon you because you wanted to change?"
"I don't know." His voice was low, barely above a rumble. His words might've been ambiguous but his feelings were not -- in some way, Hank felt like he deserved to be punished and that his new form was that sentence.
Charles watched him for a moment. "I made a lot of mistakes myself, you know," he began. "I've probably made more in the time you've known me than you've made in your entire life. Do you think this..." -- and he patted the arm of his wheelchair -- "...is my punishment, like your form is yours?"
"Of course not!" Hank's answer was swift and vehement. "How could I ever think that, Charles? What happened to you was..."
"...a very unfortunate accident," he finished, cutting off Hank's thought of Erik's fault. "And what about Jean? Some would say a child, born out of wedlock, even in the most normal of circumstances is a punishment on a woman who got herself in trouble. Surely, that would be doubly true in my case."
"No," Hank said, still fierce. "Jean's not a punishment. She's..."
"The thing I love most on this earth," Charles said with a sad smile. "And while unexpected, I don't regret her, even if she is the product of some very bad decisions on my part. Which is my point, Hank." He made sure his eyes were holding Hank's as he continued. "You made a mistake -- whether that mistake was wanting to change in the first place or whether it was trying an untested serum on yourself is really up to you to decide for yourself. Not me, not Raven, not anyone. But it was just a mistake, nothing more."
"Logically, I know that," Hank said. "But here..." He tapped a large fist against his chest.
"I know," Charles agreed, folding his hands in his lap. "Regrets have a way of eating at you -- at everyone, for whatever reason. But you can't let them consume you."
"I realize that."
"And you especially cannot let Raven tie you up in knots over this," he added.
"I don't want her to, I don't," Hank said, shaking his head. "But I can't help it. I can't just sit there and be all cool and collected like you can."
"Oh, Hank," Charles said with a faint laugh that lacked all humor. "You're quite mistaken if you think I handle anything by being cool and collected, particularly not our current visitors." When Hank gave him a disbelieving look, he pointed out, "Haven't you noticed? I've practically hidden myself and Jean away in this room, and I've got Sean or one of you off with the other students at all times."
"You're just being cautious," Hank told him.
"Some might say paranoid."
Hank thought for a moment, then he cracked a grin. "Maybe a little," he conceded.
"It's fine if your regrets make you wary, Hank," he said. "Just don't let it cut you off completely, yes?"
Charles was aware of Hank mulling over his words in his head, along with abstracts flashes of images that made little sense to Charles. After a moment, he nodded, almost to himself, before he glanced back at Charles.
"Better?" Charles asked.
"A little," he said. "I think."
"You don't have to talk to Raven if you don't want," he assured him. "I can make her leave you alone."
"You'd do that?" Hank said, eyes wide, wiggling his fingers near his head to mimic Charles's power.
He rolled his eyes. "I meant I'd ask her, Hank."
"Oh, right," Hank said with an embarrassed little laugh, but it was much lighter than what he'd sounded like when he'd first come in. After a few more minutes of chitchat, he sent the young scientist on his way, feeling that he had at least accomplished something.
Of course, that still left him with Alex.
Alex's current mental state was like a rash, angry and distracting and pulsing with infection. Charles couldn't even be certain why Alex was angry because of the inflammation to the surface of his thoughts caused by his constant resentment. It reminded him a little of how it had felt to first touch Erik's thoughts down in Florida when Charles had sensed him specifically even surrounded by hundreds of other minds, drawn like a beacon to the anger and pain Erik had been broadcasting for anyone gifted enough to hear it. It was an ironic though apt comparison because so much of Alex's anger was directed at Erik, though wisps of it were directed at others -- Raven, Angel, even Charles.
Steeling himself for it, Charles sent out a mental summons for Alex and took the time before he'd arrive to check on Jean. He hated keeping her confined to his study just because of his own paranoia, so he'd had Sean take her for a few hours, where she could demand the delighted attention of Sean, Ororo and Ilyana, the latter two still under the amusing impression that a ten-month-old was the one of the best playthings ever created. Sean had brought her back when it had been time for her afternoon nap and she was still lost in slumber in her crib, obviously knackered from so much concentrated playtime between Raven, Sean and the girls.
He was still there, looking down at Jean, when Alex slipped in a few minutes later.
"Is something wrong with Jean?" he asked immediately, a ready frown spreading over his features.
"No, she's quite fine," Charles assured him, shaking off the residual effects of such close contact with Alex's tumultuous emotional state. "In fact, she's probably doing better than everyone else in this house, at the moment."
Alex shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants. "That's because she's too little to know what's going on."
"Thank goodness for that," Charles said.
That earned him a tiny smile from Alex, but the boy was far too tense for Charles's liking. He watched him with a placid, steady gaze until Alex snapped, "What?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" Alex asked with a shrug, looking much like he must've as a surly fourteen-year-old.
"Oh anything that'll help you gain even a fraction of the calm you've lost in the past twelve hours," Charles said. "Honestly, you're more keyed up than you were when they first showed up."
"Because every minute they're here makes it worse," Alex said. "I want them gone."
"You are among the majority in that opinion," Charles said. "I don't think even they want to stay any longer than they must."
"How can you be so calm about this?" Alex demanded. "The enemy is right under our roof."
"One, you're the second person who has mistakenly accused me of being calm," Charles informed him. "I assure you, it's all a facade. Two, do you really consider Raven your enemy? Honestly?"
"Maybe not Raven," he admitted with a sigh. "But she's not much better. How can you not be madder about her leaving you on the beach?"
"Every child grows up," Charles said, glancing over at Jean's crib. "Even little sisters. I couldn't stop her from going with Erik when he's what she wanted, when he could give her the freedom she craved. That would've been cruel."
"She should've been selfless enough to stay at least long enough to make sure you didn't die," Alex said. "Erik, too."
For a horrifying moment, Charles wondered if he'd misread Alex's anger toward Raven and Erik wrong all those months, if what it had been hiding had been some kind of misplaced envy because Alex regretted not taking his chance to go with them to the Brotherhood. But, as Charles probed at what lay beneath the anger, what he found was far more simple and complex than envy.
"I wouldn't want them here like that," Charles told him. "I wouldn't want them with me out of some sense of guilt or obligation. That would only turn to resentment which is no way to live. And," he added, "I don't want you staying here for that, either."
"Professor." Alex looked shocked, stumbling a little as he sank down in the chair closest to Charles. "You don't think..."
"No, I don't," he said, leaning over to give Alex's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I can tell you're here because this is where you want to be, because this is where you feel like your family is."
Alex flushed a little at the mention of family. "Yeah, I mean, you're cool and so is Sean and Darwin, even Hank. And the new kids, too. And Jean, of course."
"Of course," Charles smiled. "I don't believe that blood makes a family any more than I think our mutations make us better or worse than other humans. I do think of you as family, you know."
"Yeah?" Alex said, looking down at his hands, refusing to meet Charles's gaze.
"Yes," he agreed. "I hope you think of me that way, too. I know we didn't necessarily start out that way, but after we'd spent some time here together, training...you all were more than just a team to me."
Charles had learned the hard way over the three decades of his life that being a telepath didn't automatically mean he knew the right thing to say for the right occasion. If he'd needed any further proof of that fact, he'd only need to look at the ways he'd hurt Raven over the years with the careless things he'd said, something he hadn't understood until he'd touched her mind on the beach and felt how much every fiber in her being longed to follow Erik into whatever future he envisioned. And then there was Erik, someone he'd loved as much as he'd ever imagined he could love anyone, almost from the moment they'd met, and months hadn't made Charles able to choose the right words when they'd counted most.
And now there was Alex, who needed validation so badly but had hidden it so well under his anger that Charles had missed it for years.
"And now, I really couldn't imagine how I'd get on without all of you," he said. "You, Hank, Sean, Darwin...I think of you like I think of Raven or even Jean. Since I first brought you all to my home, you've been my family."
Despite the horrified, embarrassed expression on Alex's face, Charles could feel how pleased he was, deep down, how much his feelings about them all was part of his anger and hurt. "I didn't really have anybody," Alex admitted quietly. He coughed, ran a hand through his hair before he risked a glance up. "You know, before. Jail and all."
"I think we were all incredibly lonely before we found others like ourselves," Charles said, thinking of the rush of emotions he'd felt from Erik as he'd repeated I thought I was alone. "I was incredibly lucky to find Raven so early in my life."
"Yeah," Alex nodded.
"So it makes sense," Charles continued, searching for Alex's reaction to every word he said. "It makes sense that you feel so strongly about the members of your family who have...left you, Alex. You don't have to pretend that doesn't hurt." Before Alex could open his mouth to protest, Charles tapped at his temple. "And please? Remember that I'm a telepath."
Alex flashed him a ghost of a grin. "Point," he said.
"I know that you're hurt that Erik and Raven left us on the beach because I -- you -- we -- because they were part of our family. I understand, believe me. But all the anger in the world isn't going to make it better."
Alex's shoulders slumped down. "I just -- whenever I think about it for too long and especially when I see them -- Erik. I just..." He clenched a fist against his thigh.
Charles could clearly sense what Alex felt for Erik beneath all the anger, the way he'd started to look up to him and cast him in a paternal light, a figure he respected and wanted to follow -- only for Erik to destroy that when he'd abandoned them on the beach. He couldn't help but ache at the reminder of all the things Erik had crushed with his decisions on the beach that day.
"I'm not asking you to forgive him," Charles told him. "But I meant what I said about him not being the enemy. Until he does something that truly warrants that designation, let's keep the bloodshed to a minimum, shall we?"
"Yeah, okay," Alex agreed, the grin gaining a little. "But I don't make any promises if he makes the first move. It's on, then."
"Absolutely," Charles agreed. "I'm not unfamiliar with wanting to protect things from Erik."
Alex's eyes wandered over to the crib. "I know you don't want to admit it, but it's just a matter of time before he crosses that line, Charles," Alex told him. "That is, if he hasn't crossed it already and we just don't know yet. One day, he's going to be the enemy."
Charles closed his eyes. "I know."
"That's why you don't want him to know about Jean."
"One of the reasons, anyway."
"I'm sorry, you know," Alex said, his eyes full of a sudden sympathy that Charles could feel creeping over the edges of his mind. "That he was an asshole to you. That you loved him and he still left you."
Something neutral and deflective was on the tip of Charles's tongue but he thought of the vulnerabilities he'd exposed in his young friend that afternoon and thought, maybe, Alex needed to see that Charles had his own, as well.
"So I am," Charles said quietly, emotion plain in his voice. "So I am."
**
It didn't take a genius to figure out that the majority of the household was hiding from them, Erik noted on his second morning at the Xavier manor. When he was not actively seeking out someone such as he'd done with Charles on that first day, Erik could go hours without any indication that anyone other than he, Raven and Angel occupied the house, despite the half-dozen other people who called it home. Other than Jean, Erik hadn't even seen a trace of the younger children he knew Charles had taken under his tutelage.
Erik also knew that the sudden quiet in the halls of the rambling estate was for his benefit, or at least the benefit of his team. Unlike himself, Raven had no problem seeking out the people she wanted to interact with, even if that person was Hank who seemed to keep himself cloistered in his laboratory in between shouting matches with the shapeshifter. Sean might as well as have been a ghost for all Erik saw him, and Alex was obviously keeping as much distance as possible between them. Even Charles seemed content to stay shuttered away in his study all day, something that struck Erik as patently false behavior. For all his bookishness, Charles had always remained active, moving, as if there were too much going on in his brain to let him rest for very long.
Even as he thought it, though, Erik was struck with the reminder that he likely didn't know much about how Charles acted at present because two important things had changed since he was last privy to Charles's moods and methods -- Charles had been paralyzed and he'd become a father.
It was strange to feel the twist of guilt-anger-pain that came with that memory, guilt for the former and anger for the latter. Even if he'd never admit it anyone, Erik did carry guilt in him for how he'd left Charles, bloody and broken, on the beach, for how he'd done that to Charles himself, a careless flick of his hand in a moment of anger that had ended Charles's life as he'd known it. Torturing himself over it, however, would not change the matter and regret, he knew, was a useless, wasteful emotion. It had no place in Erik's world, not in the future he was building for the betterment of mutantkind.
With Raven wrapped up either with Hank or her brother, and Angel dealing with her own issues over Darwin's miraculous return, Erik had taken to wandering a-field, close enough to the manor in case there was danger, but far enough away that he felt outside of the reach of his reluctant hosts. Not that there was anything Charles could read from him with his helmet firmly in place, but he still sometimes thought he could feel the brush of the telepath's mind, an absent touch like fingers ghosting over skin. The farther away he was from Charles, the less he felt the press of that phantom sensation on him.
It was as he returned from one of these long walks early on that second morning that he heard the voices of three of Charles's wards rising and falling together in what was clearly a serious discussion. He'd been coming toward the kitchen to find himself something to eat for breakfast before the rest of the household woke, but Darwin, Sean and Alex had obviously beaten him to it, something else that had changed since his first stay at the manor. Rather than announce his presence, Erik let his steps slow and instead listened intently.
"...day or two more, at least the most," Sean was saying. Erik could make out the sounds of silverware meeting china. "Then we can go back to our actual lives and not this Twilight Zone we've got going right now."
"It still makes me nervous." Alex, of course. "I don't like him being here."
"That's not exactly news, Alex," Darwin answered. "Where's Hank this morning?"
"Hiding from Raven," Sean snorted. "I think he's literally barricaded the door to keep her out. I think he's sleeping in there, too."
"Charles isn't much better," Alex said. "But at least I understand his reasons."
"A guy puts a bullet in your back, I can see the desire to stay away," Darwin agreed mildly, and Erik tried not to flinch at the bald statement. "No matter how close you were before."
"Yeah, that, but I didn't mean that," Alex answered with a sigh. "I was talking more about Jean."
That hadn't been what Erik had been expecting to hear.
"Another perfectly valid concern," Darwin agreed, although Erik didn't see why there was any concern about him regarding Jean Xavier. "I know how protective Charles is about it."
"We all are," Sean added. "We all agreed to watch out for her, especially when it comes to Erik."
Erik frowned, wondering when the conversation would start to make sense again. He couldn't understand why anyone would think he'd harm an infant, no matter how badly they viewed his choices. They knew him, especially Charles; the continued anxiety among them that he was a danger to a harmless child hurt him more than he'd expected, even though he'd spent years steeling himself for the day he'd have to look at one of them across a battlefield.
"I remember," Darwin said. "You didn't even want to tell me."
"I did," Alex said. "I never would keep something like that from you. You're one of us."
"Thanks, man," Darwin replied and Erik could hear the smile in his voice, even as he slowly backed away from the kitchen, silently moving through the house until he was alone in his room.
He didn't particularly like the memories the room conjured up in him or the fact that it put him very near Charles's bedroom, but it felt safer than anywhere else in the manor. He couldn't stop himself from playing the conversation he'd just heard over in his head, examining each word for some nuance he'd missed. It was obvious they'd been talking around something -- something about Jean, something that Charles was hiding about her, especially from Erik, though he couldn't fathom what that secret could be. Her parentage might not have been openly broadcast, but it was easy -- albeit painful -- to conclude and, whether she was a mutant or not meant little to Erik. He could think of no secret about Charles's child that would be worth the preoccupation Charles's pupils seemed to give it.
But he could've missed something; he was not so infallible to believe he couldn't and since he had nothing better to do with his time until Emma contacted Raven or Angel, it was a harmless distraction, to ponder the mysterious secret a ten-month-old child could be harboring.
When Erik stepped out of his room a few minutes later, he had a new destination in mind. He walked down the corridor and gave the closed door to Charles's bedroom a hard stare before stepping through the open one across the hall. The room was empty, as Erik had expected, painted a cheery yellow that made it glow with the sunlight that came through the windows. Erik had encountered exactly one other nursery room in his life and that small closet of a space had no comparison to what he saw now.
The room boasted furniture that looked to be antique in origin, made of the heavy dark wood that Charles's family seemed to prefer. The one, significant anomaly to that was the crib which, while made from a similar wood, had a stream-lined design that made Erik sure it was a new addition, perhaps even one designed by Hank. One side of the room seemed to be overflowing with a mountain of toys and stuffed animals that a child Jean's age couldn't possibly appreciate yet and everything seemed to be done in shades of yellow and apricot, not a hint of pink to be found.
Erik, as he ran a finger down the line of the crib, couldn't help but wonder who had made the decisions that led to the circumstances he'd found at the mansion when he'd arrived. Had Moira agreed to give up her child to Charles to raise? Or had Charles made the decision for her in line with his own thoughts on the subject, as he had for Raven for so much of her life? Had she chosen the paint and linens for her daughter's room, never knowing she wouldn't remember her in a few months? As little as he cared about humans, including Moira, he couldn't help the sympathy he had for her situation, thinking about what she'd lost in losing her memories of her child. He didn't care how absolute Charles's powers were, there was a spiritual connection between a parent and a child, and Moira would always feel it, even if it was only enough to know she'd lost something she couldn't replace.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement below outside the window and his gaze followed it. It was Charles, Erik realized, almost surprised to see him. He was sitting out on the patio with Jean in his arms, looking out over the expanse of the estate. Before he could stop himself, Erik swept out of the room and down the stairs, toward that same patio.
This time he did nothing to hide his approach, even as he caught bits of the one-sided conversation Charles was having with Jean.
"Yes, yes, I know you want down," Charles was telling the squirming infant, the laughter in his voice so carefree that it hit like a physical pain in Erik's chest. "But you're not really dressed for it. In fact, you lack shoes, my dear." Erik stepped outside as Charles laughed again, still trying to make Jean settle in his arms. "Socks aren't really made for the task alone, I'm afraid."
He took a deep breath before he spoke, hoping his tone would be light enough that he wouldn't be immediately rebuffed. "I don't think she's swayed by your authority on the subject."
Erik watched Charles go tense through his shoulders for the split second after he spoke, then slowly -- consciously -- release it. He turned his head a little to watch Erik as he came around from behind him. "Erik," he said in surprise, almost involuntarily before he focused on what Erik had actually said. "No, she's not swayed at all. She's very stubborn."
"I can't imagine where she inherited that," Erik said, trying to smile to soften his words.
Charles cocked his head and looked at him for a long moment. "Her father. There's no doubt about that."
It wasn't the answer Erik was expecting, though it was the one he had been inferring. It startled a laugh out of him, a quick sound that won him Jean's attention in a way his words hadn't. Before he knew how to react, Erik found himself under the intense scrutiny of a second pair of bright blue eyes, painfully reminiscent of Charles's. She was a lovely child, with her bright red curls and even brighter eyes, though they were the only thing of Charles Erik saw in her. He saw little of Moira other than the hair, which was surprising, though he knew little of the science behind it. Erik was certain Charles could explain the genetics to him if he asked, but those days were long gone.
He didn't really think about it before he stepped forward. "Perhaps I can offer a compromise?"
Charles's eyes widened a little, betraying his surprise. "Do you...you want to hold her?"
"That was the idea," Erik said.
Another thing that hurt -- watching Charles clearly debate the proposition with himself, looking back at Erik's outstretched hands with more trepidation than he'd shown when they'd faced Shaw. He even thought he saw an aborted flick of Charles's right hand, as if he'd been planning to bring his fingers to his temple before remembering how futile a gesture it was.
Erik was almost ready to give up on the tentative offer when Charles finally nodded, holding her up a little for him to take. "Here you go, then."
It must've been instinct that let Erik settle Jean securely against him in his arms because he had precious little experience with it. Jean seemed content with the new arrangement, now that she was lifted higher than her father's lap, studying Erik with a seriousness that belied her age. Then, with great gusto, she began to tug at the edges of his helmet with her chubby little hands.
"You might want to watch her," Charles said, amusement warming his voice. "She's already decided that Raven's scales are a challenge she's ready to face."
Erik used one hand to gently bat Jean's away from his face so he could speak without worrying about her fingers ending up in his mouth. She seemed to think it was a new game and lunged for his fingers, babbling out her amusement. "At least she's distracted enough that she's not trying to escape."
"No," Charles agreed. He watched Erik jostle his daughter around for a moment. "She...likes you."
"Don't sound so surprised," Erik teased before he thought better of it.
"Oh, I'm not," Charles said, strangely stricken by the confession. "I never thought it would be otherwise."
When Erik looked down at him to see if he could understand why, all he saw was Charles's eyes watching Jean with a painful, all-consuming expression of love that made him turn away even as jealousy for it twisted in his gut.
**
End of Part 6
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