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FIC: An Earlier Heaven - Charles/Erik, XMFC - (9/13)
Title: An Earlier Heaven (9/13)
Author: Regann
Pairing: Charles/Erik (XMFC)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4,600 for the chapter (total: 60,000+)
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 9)
It would've been easy, in the wake of the Brotherhood's abrupt exit, to let his fear over what Erik might do control him but Charles refused to give into the paranoia, no matter how often Alex urged action or how many concerned looks Hanks sent his way in the following days. To do so, he'd explained when they'd gathered with the children only moments after Erik and the rest had disappeared with Azazel, would only be to give Erik more power over them.
"I wish I'd been there to see it," Sean had said, still wincing a little from the psychic trauma of Emma's attack. "It must've been a sight, watching Mom lay into Dad."
"It was pretty badass," Alex had admitted. "Especially when he you-know'ed everyone just to show off."
"It wasn't to show off," Charles had corrected, rolling his eyes. "And Sean? Really? Mom?"
Sean had taken the ice pack Hank offered, unrepentant as he held it against his pale forehead. "You're the one who had a baby, Professor. Nothing left to do but own it."
Charles had had to hide his amusement under a severe expression that had fooled absolutely no one, probably not even Jean where she'd been seated on his lap, happily trying to relieve him of his wristwatch.
Over his protests, however, Hank and Alex banded together against him on several plans for defenses to add around the property and, loathed as he was to admit it, Charles had to admit that they were a good idea. While he was more than used to relying on his own powers to act as an early warning system, there was nothing wrong in having some redundancy in place. It also gave them a creative and productive outlet for the helplessness they felt when it came to Erik and his team, and Charles was not above indulging them on the point if it helped them in some way.
"Why aren't you more concerned about this?" Alex asked one day, bursting into his study, waving the plans he and Hank had been working on. "I don't think you're taking it seriously enough."
Charles sighed, laying aside the pen he'd been writing with. "I'm taking it as seriously as warranted, Alex," he said, leaning back in his chair to watch Alex pace in front of his desk. "I promise."
"You've seen how he gets," Alex reminded him. "Are you saying that you seriously don't think he'll make good on what he said?"
"I'm saying that what he said was extravagant and rash, in the heat of the moment," Charles explained. "Given the time to think about it, he won't follow through."
Alex crossed his arms and watched Charles with a frown on his face. "I still don't like it," he said. "You're our best asset and as long as Erik has that helmet, you're defenseless against him."
"Not badass enough anymore, am I?" Charles asked, humor creeping into his voice.
"You're totally badass," Alex assured him, "if it's not..." He raked a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. "Look, Erik is like your Achilles Heel or you're his or whatever. And he's got your number when it comes to your powers."
"That's what I have you three for," Charles told him, supporting his words with a burst of confidence in his boys that he made sure Alex could feel even from across the room. "If something happens, I know that you, Sean, Darwin and Hank will be able to protect Jean in my place. I have every faith in you."
Color crept up Alex's neck as he looked away, obviously embarrassed by Charles's effusive belief. It made Charles smile a little, though it was tinged with sadness, that Alex still hadn't quite figured out how to handle the trust and affection of his little patchwork family.
After a moment he spoke again, quiet but fierce. "I meant what I said, you know. About over my dead body."
"I know," Charles said with a nod, voice soft with fondness. "That's why I have complete faith in you."
Despite the brave front he put on for the boys, Charles worried. Of course, he worried. It had been one of his worst fears that Erik would find out about Jean, and their confrontation over it had gone exactly the wrong way, leaving Charles nothing with nothing to do but to worry. Erik had done nothing in the years since they'd met but prove himself stubborn, determined and completely unpredictable. As much as Charles wanted to believe that Erik had no intention of making good on his threat to come back for Jean, he was equally aware that he had nothing but his belief to support it.
He was busy enough during waking hours to ignore his concerns, but they came out in his dreams, leaving his sleep troubled and inadequate. He hesitated to call what he experienced nightmares because he was present enough even in his sleep to tell the difference between it and reality, but every worse-case scenario he could imagine played themselves out every night behind his closed eyelids. He dreamed about finding Jean gone, or watching as Erik disappeared with her in his arms, unable to do anything with the twin hindrances of his paralysis and Erik's helmet working against him. Charles dreamed of feeling the bullet impact him again, but this time higher, closer to his heart, and he dreamed of bleeding out on that Cuban beach, the sound of Jean's cries echoing in his ears. He dreamed of a world on fire, Erik caught in flames of his own making, still clinging to violence as he drew his last breath. He woke for a string of nights, sweaty and shaking, frustrated that he couldn't keep his own subconscious under control.
Charles tried to hide the restless nights, but he realized he hadn't done a very good job of it when Darwin confronted him about it one afternoon.
"You want to talk about it?" Darwin asked as he approached, still in his sweat suit after his run with Alex.
"That obvious, is it?" Charles asked dryly.
"Maybe not to the others, but to me," Darwin told him. "I've seen my fair share of sleepless nights in my life."
"Alex thinks I'm not worried enough," Charles said. "I'm not sure I could function if I did much more of it."
Darwin nodded. "Alex tends to get a little intense when it comes to anything having to do with Erik or Raven or Jean," he said. "This is just the perfection collision of all those things."
Charles knew what Darwin meant, although he was still at a loss to help Alex more than he had. He'd reached a point where he thought only time could finish the job. "Yes, I've noticed."
Darwin caught Charles's eyes with his own. "The truth -- do you think that Erik will come back?"
"Yes," Charles said, no hesitation.
"Even though you told him not to?"
"When has Erik ever listened to me?" Charles asked.
His dry comment earned him a ghost of a smile from Darwin, but it faded quickly. "Do you think he'll try something when he does?"
"I don't know," Charles admitted. "And that's hard for me to admit. Sometimes I think I know him as well as I do myself and then sometimes I think I never knew him at all, which is an affront for a telepath to say aloud, you know."
"Bruises your ego some?" Darwin teased, but his words were gentle.
"That, too." Charles looked out across the empty expanse of the grounds, down the slope toward where he knew the pond sat before the edge of the woods. He thought about the time he'd spent there with Erik when they'd first brought the students to train, how right it had felt to have him by his side. "Erik is not a man easily compartmentalized," Charles said at last. "I know he's capable of both tremendous kindness and tremendous violence. He...feels things deeply but he doesn't know how to deal with it on most occasions." He shot Darwin a look. "It's hard to know a man completely when he doesn't know himself."
"But you tried."
"Even if I know nothing of the true Erik Lehnsherr, I still think I know him better than he does himself," Charles said. "He doesn't want to admit that there's more to him than the darkness and that, that's what frightens me. That one day he won't just be ignoring the good, it'll be well and truly gone."
"Alex, he gave me the play-by-play a while back about what happened in Cuba," Darwin admitted, though Charles had never thought differently. "Why didn't you say yes when he asked you to? It's not like you wouldn't be happier with him than you are without him."
"There are a lot of things I would risk for Erik, but even I have limits, Darwin." Charles shook his head. "My powers have always demanded that I stay true to the lines I've drawn for myself because to do otherwise...it's not a good path for a telepath. Not even for Erik could I blur that line, not even as much as I'd wanted to."
It was a secret he'd never admitted to anyone, not even to himself really, but Charles had been tempted on the beach -- once the fleet had been saved and he'd already suffered the bullet in his spine; when Erik had asked him to join him, Charles had felt the pull of temptation. In his mind, he'd set out his reasons for it, much like the way Darwin had presented it -- how could he save Erik if they were on different sides? -- but something had stopped him. Later, even when he'd missed Erik more than breathing, he'd known he'd been right to say no, even though that righteousness did little to ease the loss he'd suffered.
"I don't think Alex would want you losing sleep over this literally," Darwin said in answer, almost a non sequitur. "But I do think he'd feel better knowing you have some idea of what you're going to do. And I think I agree with him on that."
"I'm not going to let Erik or anyone attack us in our home, if that's what you mean."
"Actually, it's not," Darwin said. "I know that you'll protect us and the kids in any way you can. I'm wondering more about what you're going to do if he comes back without all that."
"You mean, in peace?" Charles sighed. "It's the harder question."
"That's why it's the one you should probably do some thinking on," Darwin pointed out.
"I don't consider myself an unforgiving man," Charles began, eyes trailing away as he realized he'd started to grip his armrest more tightly than was strictly warranted. He forced himself to loosen his grip, flexing the fingers to ease the cramps in them. "And before, before Emma and Azazel arrived, I was actually beginning to wonder if I'd been unfair in deciding to keep him from Jean. But then he had Emma Frost hurt Sean and it changed everything. That's not something I can forget easily."
"But do you think he did really?" Darwin asked with a shrug. "From what the others say, Erik was tight with them before he split. Do you really think he was okay with her hurting him?"
"I don't know," Charles admitted for the second time in the conversation. "I want to believe he wouldn't, but I know I'm not my most clear-headed when it comes to Erik." He raised an eyebrow at the young mutant who sat watching him with an expectant expression. "Since when did you become Erik's champion, hmm?"
Darwin laughed and ducked his head a little. "Someone's got to be on the cat's side around here or else things would be pretty dull," he said. "The truth, though, is that...I remember what you guys were like when I first met you and I'd never seen two people who clicked together like you did, you know? Hard to believe that's all gone when you guys still look at each other like that, even after everything. Especially when Jean and the others are caught in the middle of it. Alex won't ever say it but he misses Erik, too. I think it's why he's so pissed."
"Yes," Charles said. "It's exactly why, although you're right that he'd never admit it if he could get away without doing so. But no matter how much any of us miss him, Darwin, I can't let that guide my decision, not if I can't trust him not to hurt them again."
"I have nothing but respect for you, Charles," Darwin said after a moment and it was obvious that a "but" was coming after that statement. "And I get what you were saying about lines and not crossing them. But..."
"But?" Charles prompted.
"But sometimes those lines let us box ourselves in out of nothing but fear." Darwin looked out over the property much as Charles had done, but the thoughts were different, flecked with light and shapelessness, with the conflicting feelings of disconnect and unity he'd felt when he'd lived as energy. "I had a lot of time to think about the things I hadn't done when I was floating around up there and about why I didn't do them. You don't ever want plain old fear to be the answer when you ask yourself those kinds of questions."
Charles wanted to protest that the situation was much more complicated than Darwin had painted it, but Darwin's knowing gaze stopped him short. At its essence, the entire situation was about fear -- his, Erik's, the humans'. Humans feared what they didn't understand; Erik feared mutants having to live through what he had; and Charles, he feared Erik, for so many reasons. He could see where the humans who'd almost killed them in Cuba had acted rashly because of that fear and he'd see Erik do the same in response.
He wondered, though, whether his own actions had been rash for the same reasons.
When it was clear that Darwin was waiting for a response, Charles favored him with a steady look. "I can only control how my own fear drives me," he told him. "I can't control anyone else's."
Darwin nodded his agreement. "But it's a start."
Charles found he had no answer to that.
**
The small crisis that had necessitated the Brotherhood's forced vacation on the sidelines eventually passed and they were back to their business in no time, so soon that the time they lost was little more than a nuisance. Erik was glad to once again have something to focus on that wasn't Charles or Jean, and no one dared to bring them up after they'd left their dilapidated safe house by the sea for another mission, not even Mystique. It was easy to let the matter slide to the back of his mind, to be worried at in his leisure or ignored if it was his pleasure.
Or it should've been, except that Erik turned out to be his own worst enemy on the matter. At random times and when it was the last thing he needed to be doing, Erik found himself pulling out the photo of Charles and Jean that Mystique had given him.
He'd long since memorized every facet of it, every line and detail about Charles, about Jean, about the hazy background that he suspected was Hank's lab, though it was hardly the place a child needed to be. He searched it for some trace of himself in her chubby little face, looking for some line or curve that would remind him of himself or his mother, a grandparent or a cousin. But laughing as she was in the photo, captured in a moment of pure, infectious joy, Erik only saw the echoes of Charles in their daughter's face, mirrored as it was in the quick, growing grin he shared with her in it.
Part of Erik regretted that he even knew about Jean because she was a distraction he didn't need in his world, focused as he was on his plans. Charles had been a distraction in the beginning, but he'd slowly learned to tame those memories, push them away. Jean was a new problem, a new preoccupation, and he hadn't yet learned how to escape it.
It didn't help that Emma seemed to have gained a new appreciation for watching him out of the corner of her eye, something uncomfortable and knowing about her gaze. It went beyond the smug look of understanding he'd come to expect from telepaths, thanks to his association with both Charles and Emma; it bordered on speculative and weighing, like she was just waiting for him to act in some certain way. He refused to acknowledge it by asking her about it, so he simply clung more securely to the shielded safety of his helmet, even at times when he would've once removed it.
So involved in his own petty distractions, Erik almost missed that Mystique seemed to have developed a strange habit of slipping off with Azazel every few days. He didn't know where they were going or what they were doing, so he said nothing the first two times, but when it had happened twice more in that week, he decided it was worth his time to investigate. Mystique had grown considerably since she'd left the suffocating sphere of her brother's influence, but she was still less worldly than the rest of the Brotherhood and he felt a need to pay her closer attention because of it. He could admit, to himself at least, that he also felt like he owed it to Charles to protect her as much as he could.
Erik waited until he saw Mystique and Azazel disappear together and then he waited patiently until they made their reappearance. It took less than twenty minutes before they were once again moving within the confines of their base, and he could hardly think of what they could be doing when they were gone for such a short time. He gave Raven an hour to settle before he went looking for her, which proved to be easy because she was in the old sitting room that smelt faintly of mildew and the sea. She was hunched over, reading something she clutched in her blue hands.
"We don't have secrets in the Brotherhood, Mystique," he said as he entered quietly, startling out a surprised yelp out of her.
She crushed the papers she'd been reading between her fists, tucking them to one side as she glared up at him. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. That's why I didn't know about your torrid affair with my brother until two years after the fact."
"This isn't about the past," he said, sidestepping the mention to Charles. "This is about the present." He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes fixed on hers. "Don't think I haven't noticed you've been disappearing with Azazel every few days."
"So?" she asked with a toss of her head, a leftover gesture from when she'd frequently had long, blonde hair. He could tell she was trying to be flippant in the face of his inquiry but he could also tell she was nervous by the way her scales rippled along her arms. "What's it to you?"
"Nothing," he said. "Except that you seem very nervous when I ask about it. Is there something I shouldn't know?"
"You're paranoid," she said, but her hand clenched around the papers she'd stuffed between her body and the cushions, and he had his answer.
He flicked his gaze toward her hand. "What do you have there, Mystique?"
"It's none of your business," she said. "Leave me alone."
"The papers," he ordered. "Now."
She glared for another full minute before he raised an eyebrow and curled his fingers in a command. With a sigh, she slung out the hand containing the papers, and he took them without a word. Once he'd smoothed them from their crinkled state, it only took reading a few lines before he realized what it was, a revelation that made him flip to the last page to read the messily scrawled signature.
"A letter? From McCoy?" His surprise was apparent in his voice.
"Yes," she said, snatching the letter back. "Are you happy now?"
"How exactly are you and McCoy exchanging letters when our location is supposed to be a secret?" he snapped.
"I'm not stupid," she protested. "I have a post office box in Miami. Azazel takes me every few days to check it and I mail my letters when I'm there."
"What do you and McCoy have to talk about exactly?" Erik asked, eyeing the letter she held with suspicion.
"None of your business," she hissed. "It's nothing about what we're doing. It's just about...us. I mean, Hank and me. Things we didn't get figured out the last time we talked."
Erik tried to pretend that it wasn't envy he was feeling but there was no better word for the sharp annoyance he felt for both Mystique and Hank at that moment. He chose to glare instead of speak, which led Mystique to add, "You can ask if you want."
"Ask what?"
"About Charles," she said. "About what Hank might've said about what he might've said about you."
"I don't really care," he gritted out.
Mystique spared him an evil grin, one she must've learned from Emma. "Liar," she intoned. "You're dying to hear about all about him and Jean. Admit it."
He sighed, closing his eyes. "There's nothing to hear about from or regarding your brother," he said, refusing to say the name himself. "I believe you were there when he made his feelings quite clear on the matter."
She furrowed her brow in thought, then rolled her eyes. "Please, do you really think he meant that?"
"I've noticed that your brother is a man of strong convictions," Erik said, trying to ignore the ache thinking about it left in his chest.
Mystique watched him for a beat, the teasing expression falling from her face. Erik didn't enjoy the solemn look she shot him, though, because it more than hinted at pity. "Erik -- you have to know. You can't not, not when you spent months with him."
"Know what?"
"Charles loves you," she said. "Probably crazy in love with you unless I'm mistaken."
"And you know this how?" he wanted to know. "You didn't even know we'd had any kind of relationship until after it was long over."
"Because I know my brother," she said. "I saw the way he looked at you back then, I just didn't know what it meant. I thought he was just fascinated with meeting a fellow mutant. You were the first he met after me." She looked down and smoothed her crumpled letter across one knee. "And then there's the fact he waited so long to do something about it. Charles doesn't wait when it's casual, which means he usually doesn't wait at all."
"I really don't have time for this," Erik declared. "Keep writing your letters if you must, I ---"
Mystique rarely touched him, but she did then, reaching out to wrap strong, blue fingers around his wrist. "Did you tell you he loved you?" she asked, invasive and sympathetic and dangerously close to having a stray bit of metal thrown in her direction.
"What your brother said is irrelevant," Erik said, shaking off her hand. "Even if he did, we only knew each other a few months and you yourself said that he's --"
"Did you get to know him at all?" she asked with an angry gust of breath. "Or did you just spend your time lusting after him and ignoring everything that came out of his mouth or his head?"
"Raven," he growled in warning, not even noticing his slip-up.
Mystique did, though, and it earned a faint smile. "Jinx," she said with humor, before she sobered. "Once, when I was younger, I asked my brother about love at first sight. You know, like in all the movies? I asked him if he thought it was possible. Do you know what he said?"
"No," he said. "And I'm pretty sure I don't care."
"You do," she insisted. "He told me he wasn't sure about other people, but he knew telepaths could fall in love at first sight. Because with one look, he could know everything about someone and isn't that what you fall in love with? The whole person? Charles always said that if he fell in love he'd do it like that, with someone's mind, instantly." She shook her head. "And he did, I just didn't notice. He felt your mind that night in Florida and seconds later he threw himself off a boat to save your life." She gave a funny little laugh. "My brother wasn't that good of a swimmer to make that look like a good idea."
"Mystique," he began, unsure of what he wanted to say when her conviction was burning in her yellow eyes as much as it did when they spoke of making the world safe for mutants. On those occasions, it made him proud; now that surety just made him uncomfortable.
"And if he said the words?" Her mouth tugged down into a frown. "My brother doesn't lie. Not about things like that. So do you really think that there's anything you could do that he'd really find unforgivable, after he forgave you -- us -- for so much already?"
"He wasn't ever going to tell me about Jean," he reminded her. "And then Sean, with Emma...you heard what he said, the same as I did. Do you think he lied, then?"
"No," she answered. "But I think he overestimated his own ability to hold a grudge, which is pretty close to nonexistent on a good day. Are you really going to let that stop you from trying?"
"Trying what?" he asked. "I spent almost two years not speaking to your brother and I don't plan on changing that now. If circumstances hadn't called for it, I wouldn't have spoken to him then."
Mystique looked away, down at the letter in her hands. "So you still don't think there's any middle ground, huh? Some place where you and Charles don't have to be miserable for the rest of your lives just because you miss each other?"
"That's not how it works," Erik told her. The anger had drained away, leaving only an emptiness in its place. It was one he was familiar with because he'd lived with it for years before he'd met Charles; it had only been after they'd parted ways that Erik realized how much it had eased during their acquaintance.
"Fine," she said, lifting her chin in a sign of stubbornness that had Erik biting back a sigh. "What about Jean? Are you really just going to give up and never be part of her life?"
"She's my daughter," he said, as if it was a real answer to her question.
Mystique nodded, as if satisfied. "Well, unless you're going to kidnap her and raise her while we hop from base to base, mission to mission, you're going to have to work that out with Charles, aren't you?"
"Eventually," he conceded.
"Sooner rather than later, I hope," she told him. "Or don't you think you've missed enough of your daughter's life?"
He thought about the photo he had tucked into his pocket at that very moment, about the questions he wondered if he'd ever have answers to about Jean, but there was nothing on the subject he wanted to say to his daughter's obstinate aunt. "Good night, Mystique," he said, turning away.
"Ball's in your court, Magneto," she called at his retreating back. "Your daughter turns a year old next week. Where are you going to be when everyone else is celebrating it?"
He didn't bother to reply as he slammed the door shut on his way out.
**
End of Part 9
**
Author's Note: Sorry this update was late but I did not have internet access yesterday. Also, due to a confluence of RL issues (including but not limited to: Halloween, NaNoWriMo, school assignments and work), this will be the only update I'll be able to post this week. BUT BE COOL, SODA-POP. I'll be back to my regular update schedule next week, have no fear!
Author: Regann
Pairing: Charles/Erik (XMFC)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~4,600 for the chapter (total: 60,000+)
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 9)
It would've been easy, in the wake of the Brotherhood's abrupt exit, to let his fear over what Erik might do control him but Charles refused to give into the paranoia, no matter how often Alex urged action or how many concerned looks Hanks sent his way in the following days. To do so, he'd explained when they'd gathered with the children only moments after Erik and the rest had disappeared with Azazel, would only be to give Erik more power over them.
"I wish I'd been there to see it," Sean had said, still wincing a little from the psychic trauma of Emma's attack. "It must've been a sight, watching Mom lay into Dad."
"It was pretty badass," Alex had admitted. "Especially when he you-know'ed everyone just to show off."
"It wasn't to show off," Charles had corrected, rolling his eyes. "And Sean? Really? Mom?"
Sean had taken the ice pack Hank offered, unrepentant as he held it against his pale forehead. "You're the one who had a baby, Professor. Nothing left to do but own it."
Charles had had to hide his amusement under a severe expression that had fooled absolutely no one, probably not even Jean where she'd been seated on his lap, happily trying to relieve him of his wristwatch.
Over his protests, however, Hank and Alex banded together against him on several plans for defenses to add around the property and, loathed as he was to admit it, Charles had to admit that they were a good idea. While he was more than used to relying on his own powers to act as an early warning system, there was nothing wrong in having some redundancy in place. It also gave them a creative and productive outlet for the helplessness they felt when it came to Erik and his team, and Charles was not above indulging them on the point if it helped them in some way.
"Why aren't you more concerned about this?" Alex asked one day, bursting into his study, waving the plans he and Hank had been working on. "I don't think you're taking it seriously enough."
Charles sighed, laying aside the pen he'd been writing with. "I'm taking it as seriously as warranted, Alex," he said, leaning back in his chair to watch Alex pace in front of his desk. "I promise."
"You've seen how he gets," Alex reminded him. "Are you saying that you seriously don't think he'll make good on what he said?"
"I'm saying that what he said was extravagant and rash, in the heat of the moment," Charles explained. "Given the time to think about it, he won't follow through."
Alex crossed his arms and watched Charles with a frown on his face. "I still don't like it," he said. "You're our best asset and as long as Erik has that helmet, you're defenseless against him."
"Not badass enough anymore, am I?" Charles asked, humor creeping into his voice.
"You're totally badass," Alex assured him, "if it's not..." He raked a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. "Look, Erik is like your Achilles Heel or you're his or whatever. And he's got your number when it comes to your powers."
"That's what I have you three for," Charles told him, supporting his words with a burst of confidence in his boys that he made sure Alex could feel even from across the room. "If something happens, I know that you, Sean, Darwin and Hank will be able to protect Jean in my place. I have every faith in you."
Color crept up Alex's neck as he looked away, obviously embarrassed by Charles's effusive belief. It made Charles smile a little, though it was tinged with sadness, that Alex still hadn't quite figured out how to handle the trust and affection of his little patchwork family.
After a moment he spoke again, quiet but fierce. "I meant what I said, you know. About over my dead body."
"I know," Charles said with a nod, voice soft with fondness. "That's why I have complete faith in you."
Despite the brave front he put on for the boys, Charles worried. Of course, he worried. It had been one of his worst fears that Erik would find out about Jean, and their confrontation over it had gone exactly the wrong way, leaving Charles nothing with nothing to do but to worry. Erik had done nothing in the years since they'd met but prove himself stubborn, determined and completely unpredictable. As much as Charles wanted to believe that Erik had no intention of making good on his threat to come back for Jean, he was equally aware that he had nothing but his belief to support it.
He was busy enough during waking hours to ignore his concerns, but they came out in his dreams, leaving his sleep troubled and inadequate. He hesitated to call what he experienced nightmares because he was present enough even in his sleep to tell the difference between it and reality, but every worse-case scenario he could imagine played themselves out every night behind his closed eyelids. He dreamed about finding Jean gone, or watching as Erik disappeared with her in his arms, unable to do anything with the twin hindrances of his paralysis and Erik's helmet working against him. Charles dreamed of feeling the bullet impact him again, but this time higher, closer to his heart, and he dreamed of bleeding out on that Cuban beach, the sound of Jean's cries echoing in his ears. He dreamed of a world on fire, Erik caught in flames of his own making, still clinging to violence as he drew his last breath. He woke for a string of nights, sweaty and shaking, frustrated that he couldn't keep his own subconscious under control.
Charles tried to hide the restless nights, but he realized he hadn't done a very good job of it when Darwin confronted him about it one afternoon.
"You want to talk about it?" Darwin asked as he approached, still in his sweat suit after his run with Alex.
"That obvious, is it?" Charles asked dryly.
"Maybe not to the others, but to me," Darwin told him. "I've seen my fair share of sleepless nights in my life."
"Alex thinks I'm not worried enough," Charles said. "I'm not sure I could function if I did much more of it."
Darwin nodded. "Alex tends to get a little intense when it comes to anything having to do with Erik or Raven or Jean," he said. "This is just the perfection collision of all those things."
Charles knew what Darwin meant, although he was still at a loss to help Alex more than he had. He'd reached a point where he thought only time could finish the job. "Yes, I've noticed."
Darwin caught Charles's eyes with his own. "The truth -- do you think that Erik will come back?"
"Yes," Charles said, no hesitation.
"Even though you told him not to?"
"When has Erik ever listened to me?" Charles asked.
His dry comment earned him a ghost of a smile from Darwin, but it faded quickly. "Do you think he'll try something when he does?"
"I don't know," Charles admitted. "And that's hard for me to admit. Sometimes I think I know him as well as I do myself and then sometimes I think I never knew him at all, which is an affront for a telepath to say aloud, you know."
"Bruises your ego some?" Darwin teased, but his words were gentle.
"That, too." Charles looked out across the empty expanse of the grounds, down the slope toward where he knew the pond sat before the edge of the woods. He thought about the time he'd spent there with Erik when they'd first brought the students to train, how right it had felt to have him by his side. "Erik is not a man easily compartmentalized," Charles said at last. "I know he's capable of both tremendous kindness and tremendous violence. He...feels things deeply but he doesn't know how to deal with it on most occasions." He shot Darwin a look. "It's hard to know a man completely when he doesn't know himself."
"But you tried."
"Even if I know nothing of the true Erik Lehnsherr, I still think I know him better than he does himself," Charles said. "He doesn't want to admit that there's more to him than the darkness and that, that's what frightens me. That one day he won't just be ignoring the good, it'll be well and truly gone."
"Alex, he gave me the play-by-play a while back about what happened in Cuba," Darwin admitted, though Charles had never thought differently. "Why didn't you say yes when he asked you to? It's not like you wouldn't be happier with him than you are without him."
"There are a lot of things I would risk for Erik, but even I have limits, Darwin." Charles shook his head. "My powers have always demanded that I stay true to the lines I've drawn for myself because to do otherwise...it's not a good path for a telepath. Not even for Erik could I blur that line, not even as much as I'd wanted to."
It was a secret he'd never admitted to anyone, not even to himself really, but Charles had been tempted on the beach -- once the fleet had been saved and he'd already suffered the bullet in his spine; when Erik had asked him to join him, Charles had felt the pull of temptation. In his mind, he'd set out his reasons for it, much like the way Darwin had presented it -- how could he save Erik if they were on different sides? -- but something had stopped him. Later, even when he'd missed Erik more than breathing, he'd known he'd been right to say no, even though that righteousness did little to ease the loss he'd suffered.
"I don't think Alex would want you losing sleep over this literally," Darwin said in answer, almost a non sequitur. "But I do think he'd feel better knowing you have some idea of what you're going to do. And I think I agree with him on that."
"I'm not going to let Erik or anyone attack us in our home, if that's what you mean."
"Actually, it's not," Darwin said. "I know that you'll protect us and the kids in any way you can. I'm wondering more about what you're going to do if he comes back without all that."
"You mean, in peace?" Charles sighed. "It's the harder question."
"That's why it's the one you should probably do some thinking on," Darwin pointed out.
"I don't consider myself an unforgiving man," Charles began, eyes trailing away as he realized he'd started to grip his armrest more tightly than was strictly warranted. He forced himself to loosen his grip, flexing the fingers to ease the cramps in them. "And before, before Emma and Azazel arrived, I was actually beginning to wonder if I'd been unfair in deciding to keep him from Jean. But then he had Emma Frost hurt Sean and it changed everything. That's not something I can forget easily."
"But do you think he did really?" Darwin asked with a shrug. "From what the others say, Erik was tight with them before he split. Do you really think he was okay with her hurting him?"
"I don't know," Charles admitted for the second time in the conversation. "I want to believe he wouldn't, but I know I'm not my most clear-headed when it comes to Erik." He raised an eyebrow at the young mutant who sat watching him with an expectant expression. "Since when did you become Erik's champion, hmm?"
Darwin laughed and ducked his head a little. "Someone's got to be on the cat's side around here or else things would be pretty dull," he said. "The truth, though, is that...I remember what you guys were like when I first met you and I'd never seen two people who clicked together like you did, you know? Hard to believe that's all gone when you guys still look at each other like that, even after everything. Especially when Jean and the others are caught in the middle of it. Alex won't ever say it but he misses Erik, too. I think it's why he's so pissed."
"Yes," Charles said. "It's exactly why, although you're right that he'd never admit it if he could get away without doing so. But no matter how much any of us miss him, Darwin, I can't let that guide my decision, not if I can't trust him not to hurt them again."
"I have nothing but respect for you, Charles," Darwin said after a moment and it was obvious that a "but" was coming after that statement. "And I get what you were saying about lines and not crossing them. But..."
"But?" Charles prompted.
"But sometimes those lines let us box ourselves in out of nothing but fear." Darwin looked out over the property much as Charles had done, but the thoughts were different, flecked with light and shapelessness, with the conflicting feelings of disconnect and unity he'd felt when he'd lived as energy. "I had a lot of time to think about the things I hadn't done when I was floating around up there and about why I didn't do them. You don't ever want plain old fear to be the answer when you ask yourself those kinds of questions."
Charles wanted to protest that the situation was much more complicated than Darwin had painted it, but Darwin's knowing gaze stopped him short. At its essence, the entire situation was about fear -- his, Erik's, the humans'. Humans feared what they didn't understand; Erik feared mutants having to live through what he had; and Charles, he feared Erik, for so many reasons. He could see where the humans who'd almost killed them in Cuba had acted rashly because of that fear and he'd see Erik do the same in response.
He wondered, though, whether his own actions had been rash for the same reasons.
When it was clear that Darwin was waiting for a response, Charles favored him with a steady look. "I can only control how my own fear drives me," he told him. "I can't control anyone else's."
Darwin nodded his agreement. "But it's a start."
Charles found he had no answer to that.
**
The small crisis that had necessitated the Brotherhood's forced vacation on the sidelines eventually passed and they were back to their business in no time, so soon that the time they lost was little more than a nuisance. Erik was glad to once again have something to focus on that wasn't Charles or Jean, and no one dared to bring them up after they'd left their dilapidated safe house by the sea for another mission, not even Mystique. It was easy to let the matter slide to the back of his mind, to be worried at in his leisure or ignored if it was his pleasure.
Or it should've been, except that Erik turned out to be his own worst enemy on the matter. At random times and when it was the last thing he needed to be doing, Erik found himself pulling out the photo of Charles and Jean that Mystique had given him.
He'd long since memorized every facet of it, every line and detail about Charles, about Jean, about the hazy background that he suspected was Hank's lab, though it was hardly the place a child needed to be. He searched it for some trace of himself in her chubby little face, looking for some line or curve that would remind him of himself or his mother, a grandparent or a cousin. But laughing as she was in the photo, captured in a moment of pure, infectious joy, Erik only saw the echoes of Charles in their daughter's face, mirrored as it was in the quick, growing grin he shared with her in it.
Part of Erik regretted that he even knew about Jean because she was a distraction he didn't need in his world, focused as he was on his plans. Charles had been a distraction in the beginning, but he'd slowly learned to tame those memories, push them away. Jean was a new problem, a new preoccupation, and he hadn't yet learned how to escape it.
It didn't help that Emma seemed to have gained a new appreciation for watching him out of the corner of her eye, something uncomfortable and knowing about her gaze. It went beyond the smug look of understanding he'd come to expect from telepaths, thanks to his association with both Charles and Emma; it bordered on speculative and weighing, like she was just waiting for him to act in some certain way. He refused to acknowledge it by asking her about it, so he simply clung more securely to the shielded safety of his helmet, even at times when he would've once removed it.
So involved in his own petty distractions, Erik almost missed that Mystique seemed to have developed a strange habit of slipping off with Azazel every few days. He didn't know where they were going or what they were doing, so he said nothing the first two times, but when it had happened twice more in that week, he decided it was worth his time to investigate. Mystique had grown considerably since she'd left the suffocating sphere of her brother's influence, but she was still less worldly than the rest of the Brotherhood and he felt a need to pay her closer attention because of it. He could admit, to himself at least, that he also felt like he owed it to Charles to protect her as much as he could.
Erik waited until he saw Mystique and Azazel disappear together and then he waited patiently until they made their reappearance. It took less than twenty minutes before they were once again moving within the confines of their base, and he could hardly think of what they could be doing when they were gone for such a short time. He gave Raven an hour to settle before he went looking for her, which proved to be easy because she was in the old sitting room that smelt faintly of mildew and the sea. She was hunched over, reading something she clutched in her blue hands.
"We don't have secrets in the Brotherhood, Mystique," he said as he entered quietly, startling out a surprised yelp out of her.
She crushed the papers she'd been reading between her fists, tucking them to one side as she glared up at him. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. That's why I didn't know about your torrid affair with my brother until two years after the fact."
"This isn't about the past," he said, sidestepping the mention to Charles. "This is about the present." He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes fixed on hers. "Don't think I haven't noticed you've been disappearing with Azazel every few days."
"So?" she asked with a toss of her head, a leftover gesture from when she'd frequently had long, blonde hair. He could tell she was trying to be flippant in the face of his inquiry but he could also tell she was nervous by the way her scales rippled along her arms. "What's it to you?"
"Nothing," he said. "Except that you seem very nervous when I ask about it. Is there something I shouldn't know?"
"You're paranoid," she said, but her hand clenched around the papers she'd stuffed between her body and the cushions, and he had his answer.
He flicked his gaze toward her hand. "What do you have there, Mystique?"
"It's none of your business," she said. "Leave me alone."
"The papers," he ordered. "Now."
She glared for another full minute before he raised an eyebrow and curled his fingers in a command. With a sigh, she slung out the hand containing the papers, and he took them without a word. Once he'd smoothed them from their crinkled state, it only took reading a few lines before he realized what it was, a revelation that made him flip to the last page to read the messily scrawled signature.
"A letter? From McCoy?" His surprise was apparent in his voice.
"Yes," she said, snatching the letter back. "Are you happy now?"
"How exactly are you and McCoy exchanging letters when our location is supposed to be a secret?" he snapped.
"I'm not stupid," she protested. "I have a post office box in Miami. Azazel takes me every few days to check it and I mail my letters when I'm there."
"What do you and McCoy have to talk about exactly?" Erik asked, eyeing the letter she held with suspicion.
"None of your business," she hissed. "It's nothing about what we're doing. It's just about...us. I mean, Hank and me. Things we didn't get figured out the last time we talked."
Erik tried to pretend that it wasn't envy he was feeling but there was no better word for the sharp annoyance he felt for both Mystique and Hank at that moment. He chose to glare instead of speak, which led Mystique to add, "You can ask if you want."
"Ask what?"
"About Charles," she said. "About what Hank might've said about what he might've said about you."
"I don't really care," he gritted out.
Mystique spared him an evil grin, one she must've learned from Emma. "Liar," she intoned. "You're dying to hear about all about him and Jean. Admit it."
He sighed, closing his eyes. "There's nothing to hear about from or regarding your brother," he said, refusing to say the name himself. "I believe you were there when he made his feelings quite clear on the matter."
She furrowed her brow in thought, then rolled her eyes. "Please, do you really think he meant that?"
"I've noticed that your brother is a man of strong convictions," Erik said, trying to ignore the ache thinking about it left in his chest.
Mystique watched him for a beat, the teasing expression falling from her face. Erik didn't enjoy the solemn look she shot him, though, because it more than hinted at pity. "Erik -- you have to know. You can't not, not when you spent months with him."
"Know what?"
"Charles loves you," she said. "Probably crazy in love with you unless I'm mistaken."
"And you know this how?" he wanted to know. "You didn't even know we'd had any kind of relationship until after it was long over."
"Because I know my brother," she said. "I saw the way he looked at you back then, I just didn't know what it meant. I thought he was just fascinated with meeting a fellow mutant. You were the first he met after me." She looked down and smoothed her crumpled letter across one knee. "And then there's the fact he waited so long to do something about it. Charles doesn't wait when it's casual, which means he usually doesn't wait at all."
"I really don't have time for this," Erik declared. "Keep writing your letters if you must, I ---"
Mystique rarely touched him, but she did then, reaching out to wrap strong, blue fingers around his wrist. "Did you tell you he loved you?" she asked, invasive and sympathetic and dangerously close to having a stray bit of metal thrown in her direction.
"What your brother said is irrelevant," Erik said, shaking off her hand. "Even if he did, we only knew each other a few months and you yourself said that he's --"
"Did you get to know him at all?" she asked with an angry gust of breath. "Or did you just spend your time lusting after him and ignoring everything that came out of his mouth or his head?"
"Raven," he growled in warning, not even noticing his slip-up.
Mystique did, though, and it earned a faint smile. "Jinx," she said with humor, before she sobered. "Once, when I was younger, I asked my brother about love at first sight. You know, like in all the movies? I asked him if he thought it was possible. Do you know what he said?"
"No," he said. "And I'm pretty sure I don't care."
"You do," she insisted. "He told me he wasn't sure about other people, but he knew telepaths could fall in love at first sight. Because with one look, he could know everything about someone and isn't that what you fall in love with? The whole person? Charles always said that if he fell in love he'd do it like that, with someone's mind, instantly." She shook her head. "And he did, I just didn't notice. He felt your mind that night in Florida and seconds later he threw himself off a boat to save your life." She gave a funny little laugh. "My brother wasn't that good of a swimmer to make that look like a good idea."
"Mystique," he began, unsure of what he wanted to say when her conviction was burning in her yellow eyes as much as it did when they spoke of making the world safe for mutants. On those occasions, it made him proud; now that surety just made him uncomfortable.
"And if he said the words?" Her mouth tugged down into a frown. "My brother doesn't lie. Not about things like that. So do you really think that there's anything you could do that he'd really find unforgivable, after he forgave you -- us -- for so much already?"
"He wasn't ever going to tell me about Jean," he reminded her. "And then Sean, with Emma...you heard what he said, the same as I did. Do you think he lied, then?"
"No," she answered. "But I think he overestimated his own ability to hold a grudge, which is pretty close to nonexistent on a good day. Are you really going to let that stop you from trying?"
"Trying what?" he asked. "I spent almost two years not speaking to your brother and I don't plan on changing that now. If circumstances hadn't called for it, I wouldn't have spoken to him then."
Mystique looked away, down at the letter in her hands. "So you still don't think there's any middle ground, huh? Some place where you and Charles don't have to be miserable for the rest of your lives just because you miss each other?"
"That's not how it works," Erik told her. The anger had drained away, leaving only an emptiness in its place. It was one he was familiar with because he'd lived with it for years before he'd met Charles; it had only been after they'd parted ways that Erik realized how much it had eased during their acquaintance.
"Fine," she said, lifting her chin in a sign of stubbornness that had Erik biting back a sigh. "What about Jean? Are you really just going to give up and never be part of her life?"
"She's my daughter," he said, as if it was a real answer to her question.
Mystique nodded, as if satisfied. "Well, unless you're going to kidnap her and raise her while we hop from base to base, mission to mission, you're going to have to work that out with Charles, aren't you?"
"Eventually," he conceded.
"Sooner rather than later, I hope," she told him. "Or don't you think you've missed enough of your daughter's life?"
He thought about the photo he had tucked into his pocket at that very moment, about the questions he wondered if he'd ever have answers to about Jean, but there was nothing on the subject he wanted to say to his daughter's obstinate aunt. "Good night, Mystique," he said, turning away.
"Ball's in your court, Magneto," she called at his retreating back. "Your daughter turns a year old next week. Where are you going to be when everyone else is celebrating it?"
He didn't bother to reply as he slammed the door shut on his way out.
**
End of Part 9
**
Author's Note: Sorry this update was late but I did not have internet access yesterday. Also, due to a confluence of RL issues (including but not limited to: Halloween, NaNoWriMo, school assignments and work), this will be the only update I'll be able to post this week. BUT BE COOL, SODA-POP. I'll be back to my regular update schedule next week, have no fear!