Chapter Text
Chapter Nine
Something was poking him. Repeatedly. In the face.
Charles groaned and forced himself to open his eyes.
Casper was sitting astride his chest, tapping his right pointer finger against Charles’ cheeks, forehead, and nose, while humming a tune that Charles didn’t recognize. It took a moment for Casper to realize that Charles had, in fact, woken up and then he cried out in pure delight, “Daddy!”
And then Charles found himself at the bottom of a pile of children, all who sought emotional consolation for his sudden absence. Charles really had screwed up, hadn’t he, to have sparked such strong alarm in his little ones.
“It’s okay, my darlings,” Charles promised, projecting wave after soothing wave of calm and love toward them, “Daddy’s not going anywhere.”
The tense worry and fear that Charles could sense only dulled partially as he held his children, smothering them with kisses and hugs one by one, making the Quad giggle as he blew raspberries on their stomachs, and that was because everyone else in the mansion, including Erik and Raven, (who hadn’t been a fever-dream, after all), was still fretting over his state. A quick scan of Adam’s mind told Charles that he had been unconscious for nearly forty-eight straight hours and that the doctor had begun to fear that Charles had slipped into a coma when no one and nothing had been able to wake him.
‘I’m awake and perfectly fine,’ Charles sent to them all, flinching slightly at the slight headache actively using his powers caused.
“Daddy?” Ororo worried.
“Just a minor headache, love,” Charles assured her, relaxing slightly as the worry vanished, replaced by a medley of relief, frustration, joy, irritation, and thankfulness.
“Here, Daddy,” Bobby lifted his hand to Charles’ forehead and frost spread across it in a thin layer, easing the dull throb with remarkable speed.
“Thank you, Bobby,” Charles said gratefully, and Bobby’s ice had been applied just in time, because Charles was suddenly barraged by a number of loud, stern thoughts from numerous members of his family.
‘We are going to have a conversation about you running off on your own to meet your nut-job stepbrother, Chuck,’ Logan informed him, ‘Especially after you made everyone else promise to not leave by themselves.’
‘I’m designing a tracker meant to appear to be nothing more than an ordinary red blood cell and I’m going to inject it into you in your sleep,’ Hank threatened.
‘You know,’ Moira told him, her mental voice full of exasperation that was a touch less fond than it normally was, ‘You’re remarkably idiotic for someone with a genius-level intellect, Charles. Someone with four Ph.D.’s should know better than to sneak out of the house when he knows that he’s being hunted by a man like Stryker.’
‘If your intention was to ensure that we’d never give you another moment’s peace,’ Alex projected, ‘Congrats, you’ve succeeded, Professor.’
‘Chloë’s trying to make you soup,’ Sean revealed in a mournful tone, which, more than anything else, prompted a second, larger wince from Charles.
“What’s wrong?” Jean demanded.
“Nothing, love,” Charles mollified, “Daddy’s just a bit sore all over, that’s all.”
‘They hurt you,’ Jean thought, ‘I saw that man hurting you.’
‘Yes,’ Charles was forced to admit, ‘But I will heal, Jeanie. I’m very proud of you, by the way, even if using Cerebro was a foolhardy thing to do.’
‘You mean like leaving the house by yourself?’ Jean questioned with faux innocence.
‘Yes, alright, I see your point, darling.’
“Daddy,” Oliver spoke up, wearing as deep a frown as a three year-old could muster, “You went bye-bye. In here too.”
Charles carefully took his son’s hand, which was touching his head, into one of Charles’ own, “I am so, so sorry for that, Oliver. Daddy is never going to let that happen again.”
“He certainly is not,” Erik’s voice rang out from the doorway, “Pancakes and bacon are waiting downstairs, little ones.”
“But, Vati,” Kitty protested, making Charles blink, “We want to stay with Daddy.”
“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Erik said, a twinkle in his eye that belayed the solemnity in his tone, “So scoot.”
The children obeyed, giggling and darting back to Charles several times each to smack kisses on his face.
“I’m not little,” Peter informed Erik seriously.
“You’re littler than me and your daddy,” Erik pointed out, ruffling Peter’s shaggy, silver hair, “You need a haircut, Liebling.”
Peter’s eyes widened in horror and he covered his hair protectively with his hands, “No!”
And then he was gone, slamming the bedroom door closed behind him.
Charles’ mirth faded quickly and he forced himself to focus all of his attention on Erik, nervousness thrumming through his veins. He was absolutely sure that Erik was about to start yelling at him at any moment; positive that the screaming would lead to Erik walking away for a second time. Instead, Erik crawled on top of him, careful to keep his full weight from settling on Charles, and kissed him as if the world were about to come to an end.
“Mein gott, Charles,” Erik gasped out a few minutes, or hours, Charles was a bit fuzzy about time frames at that moment, “I thought…”
“Erik,” Charles moaned in response, a bit helplessly, pulling Erik’s mouth back to his own.
Sex with Erik had always, always been amazing; so amazing, in fact, that Charles hadn’t been able to get enough of it Pre-Cuba, had been absolutely convinced that Erik had utterly ruined him for any other hypothetical lovers. But this, this was so much more than that. This passion was fueled, not by lust and the first stirrings of something more potent, but by giddy relief, and heated desperation, and the pure, unadulterated love. This was how it should have been between them all along.
The aftermath looked like this: Charles and Erik twisted up in the cotton sheets, limbs entangled, clinging to one another, fully and utterly sated. A part of Charles would have been content to stay cradled in Erik’s arms, basking in the afterglow, forever, would have liked to ignore that there was anything wrong with the relationship they had. But there were things that had to be discussed between the two of them, or, Charles knew, even the memories of moments like this would become tainted by sour thoughts and feelings.
“So, Vati?” Charles inquired mildly, absentmindedly tracing whorls on Erik’s chest.
“Jean took one look at me and asked, ‘Vati, where have you been?’,” Erik revealed, the fingers of one hand playing with Charles’ hair, “In an English accent that’s probably even more adorable than yours.”
“My accent is not adorable, Erik,” Charles protested, aware that he sounded a bit like Peter had earlier.
“Yes, it is,” Erik disagreed, “Then she asked me if I was staying this time.”
“Are you?” the question slipped out before Charles could stop it. He had meant to work up to that particular line of inquiry.
“That-” Erik started only to cut himself off as the bedroom door opened without warning, a blue figure slipping inside the room, letting the door swing closed behind her.
“Raven!” Charles squawked, scrambling for the sheets to cover himself and Erik.
Raven snorted in amusement, although Charles could see the darker blue spots on her cheeks, how it looked when she blushed in her normal form, “The two of you certainly wasted no time.”
“Did you need something, Mystique?” Erik asked pointedly.
“Yes, actually,” Raven returned, gathering herself, “I need my brother to promise me that he’ll stop trying to put his life on the line for others.”
“How much faith, exactly, do you have in convincing me to agree to something like that?” Charles wondered.
“None, really,” Raven smiled ruefully, “But it was worth a shot anyway. You’re a moron, Charles.”
“Apparently numerous people in this house share that opinion, sister dear,” Charles told her.
“Then I suppose it has to be true,” Raven replied and then added, with forced casualness, “I guess I’ll have to stay then, to ensure that your pathological need to save the world doesn’t get you killed.”
“I’ve been reliably informed that that’s a full-time job,” Charles warned, smiling widely.
“The person who told you that must be wise beyond wise, mustn’t she?” Raven teased, coming over to press a kiss to Charles’ forehead. She wrinkled her nose a moment later, “You need a shower.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Charles assured her.
“By the way,” Raven asked, “Why is my old room full of presents?”
“You missed several birthdays and Christmases while you were away,” Charles explained.
“There are at least fifty presents from you,” Raven stated, one ginger eyebrow arched.
“Well… you also missed a couple Halloweens… and Easters… and Valentine’s Days…and-”
Raven laughed fondly, “You’re such a sap, Charles. Do you think was right, Stryker, about… the aliens?”
“I think that he is completely convinced that he’s right. I also think that it would be ridiculously arrogant for us to assume that, in all the infinite cosmos, our planet is the only one with life,” Charles answered.
“Because arrogance is such a foreign concept for you,” Erik muttered.
Raven snorted again, “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. Seriously, though, Charles, take a bath; you reek.”
And then she danced back out into the hall and a missing piece of Charles’ heart slotted back into place.
“She’s right, you know,” Erik commented once they were alone again.
“You need a shower too,” Charles told him.
“I meant about you being an idiot,” Erik clarified for him, “How the hell could you have possibly believed that meeting Cain by yourself was a good idea?”
“I’ll admit it wasn’t one of my brightest,” Charles acknowledged, “He asked for my help and…”
“Not everyone is deserving of your help, Charles,” Erik said firmly, darkly.
“Quit sounding like you think I should count you in that number, Erik Lehnsherr,” Charles chastised.
“I nearly killed you and our children.”
“What happened in Cuba was an accident, Erik!” Charles exclaimed, hating, despising the defeat he heard in Erik’s voice, “I forgave you for it a long time ago, darling.”
“You shouldn’t have!” Erik proclaimed, loudly, “I don’t deserve-”
“Why don’t you let me decide whether or not you deserve to be forgiven for what happened on the beach,” Charles insisted, “Seeing as how it happened to me, not you, or anyone else!”
“Charles-”
“I hid our children from you,” Charles interrupted, “I may have had excellent reasons for doing so, but I still did it. I still kept children that I knew you desperately wanted from you. Can you forgive me for that?”
“Yes,” Erik didn’t even hesitate, “I understand why you did it, Charles. Their safety has to come first, always.”
“Then I can forgive you for making a poor decision during a highly stressful situation that had emotionally compromised you from the start,” Charles said.
“I love you,” Erik told him, his voice full of wonder, “I have done nothing in my life to deserve you, Schatz, but I’m going to be selfish and keep you anyway.”
“Does… does that mean you’re going to stay?” Charles asked, hope bubbling to the surface.
“If you’ll have me,” Erik replied, a promise.
Charles kissed him again, “Always, Erik.”
-----------------------------
Raven almost immediately ran into Alex and Darwin after exiting her brother’s room.
“Raven,” Darwin greeted with a nod, “Is the Professor-”
“You don’t want to go in there,” Raven told them, “Trust me.”
“The Professor is projecting an awful amount of happiness right now,” Alex stated, phrasing it like it was a question.
“He and Erik are… reconciling,” Raven explained, “Repeatedly.”
Alex cringed, “Okay, we really, really did not need to know that. It’s like having to imagine your parents having make-up sex. Is he always going to project feel-good vibes when…”
“Just be grateful he’s gained more control over his abilities since his university days,” Raven said wryly, “I once got a mental eyeful that I could have cheerfully lived forever without.”
“We’ll bring the Professor breakfast later,” Darwin decided, “It’s probably best that he stays in bed for a bit anyway.”
“Wise decision,” Raven drawled.
“Have you made one?” Alex asked, “Are you staying?”
“And if I am?” Raven wondered.
“Then there’s a scientist downstairs who could use some cheering up,” Alex said.
“I don’t think he wants to see me,” Raven replied, flashing them a weak smile, “He’s been avoiding me like the plague since yesterday morning.”
“He’s trying to distance himself,” Darwin explained, more gently than Raven probably deserved, “He thinks it’ll hurt less that way if you leave again.”
“I’m not leaving,” Raven asserted.
“Then go tell him that,” Darwin suggested, “Not all of the presents were from Charles, after all.”
Raven nodded and turned to head downstairs, only to pause when Alex called out, “Raven?”
Raven looked at him.
“Welcome home.”
Her smile was real this time and it stayed in place until she reached the stairs that led down to Hank’s labs. After spending the entirety of twenty minutes psyching herself up, Raven finally made her way down them, and then hesitated in the doorway after spotting Hank, “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Raven,” Hank looked up from the microscope he was bent over and straightened.
“Can I come in?” Raven asked.
“Be my guest,” Hank replied, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Raven answered, “Better than I have in a long, long time, actually. Relived that Charles is awake; he really scared me this time.”
“He scared all of us,” Hank agreed.
“Was… was he that bad, after Cuba, was he that bad?” Raven needed to know; the thought had been plaguing her for days now.
“He certainly wasn’t in good shape,” Hank replied, “But, no, it wasn’t that bad. Most of his organs didn’t have to be regrown for one thing. He was comatose for a week, though.”
“I shouldn’t have left him,” Raven confessed, “If I hadn’t, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“You can’t know that,” Hank argued, “And you aren’t to blame, Raven.”
“I hated, Sting,” Raven disclosed, “She nearly killed you; I wanted to rip her apart for that. But I never imagined that she was capable of turning us over to Stryker. I should have seen it; she was constantly trying to sow discord, trying to pit Emma and me against each other. We just thought she was a nuisance. We were so blind. And Charles paid for it.”
“Charles is going to be okay,” Hank promised her, “Mentally and physically, he’s almost healed already.”
“And emotionally?” Raven questioned, “He was cut open, Hank, every part of his body was violated by a monster. And he felt every second of it.”
“I’m not going to tell you that it will be easy,” Hank said, “Because that would be little more than a pretty lie, but he will be okay. He’ll have his X-Men and his children beside him to get him through this.”
“And me,” Raven announced.
Hank blinked rapidly, “You’re staying?”
“Yes,” Raven confirmed, “I left because I was looking to be a part of something great, but what I failed to see then, was that I was already a part of something, something better than great, something good. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“What about the Brotherhood?” Hank inquired carefully, and Raven found herself wishing that it wasn’t her imagination that had her hearing hope in his words.
“I don’t know,” Raven frowned as she considered that, “We’ll free them from Stryker and Trask once Charles is healed enough to use Cerebro… and then, I guess it will up to them. I know my brother well enough to know that Charles will offer them sanctuary here for as long as they want it; they’ll have choose whether or not they want to stay.”
“What about Erik?” Hank asked, the first hints of a smile beginning to creep up on his face.
“It would take the god-damned apocalypse to get Erik to willingly part from Charles again,” Raven determined, “And even then, I wouldn’t bet on it happening.”
Hank beamed, “Good… I’m glad.”
“So am I,” Raven said.
-----------------------------
“For the record,” Alex crossed his arms across his chest, his tone brimming with blatant irritation, “I think that this is a fucking terrible idea.”
“Noted,” Hank replied, “At length. He’s fully recovered mentally.”
“He can barely walk!” Alex protested.
“Alex,” Charles spoke up from where he was leaning heavily against Erik, “I appreciate your concern, darling, I really do, but if we wait until I’m fully healed to do this, there might not be any members of the Brotherhood left to find. We don’t have the time to waste and both Adam and Hank have approved of me using Cerebro for a brief period of time.”
“Twenty minutes,” Hank interjected, “And then I’m shutting it back down, Professor, whether you’ve located Stryker’s second bunker or not.”
“You said I was fully recovered mentally,” Charles pointed out.
“Don’t push your luck, Bub,” Logan commented gruffly as Hank shot Charles a look that dared Charles to do just that.
“Twenty minutes sounds great,” Charles acquiesced gracefully.
Charles let go of Erik to pick up Cerebro’s helmet, swaying slightly. Erik immediately steadied him and then kept his hands firmly planted on Charles’ hips, “Easy, Schatz.”
“I think I should send Trask a fruit basket to thank him for being so attentive in his care,” Charles muttered.
“As long as the apples are poisoned,” Erik shrugged, allowing the levity, knowing that Charles needed it.
“Why not poison all the fruit?” Sean suggested, “And line the basket with explosives?”
Charles huffed out a laugh, “Stop giving my students ideas, Erik.”
“I’m hardly going to squash their creativity, Charles.”
Charles rolled his eyes and situated the helmet on his head, “Fire her up, Hank.”
Hank complied, and the spherical room lit up. As it always did, the rush of so many minds touching his own made Charles weak in the knees. Instead of gripping onto the interface this time, however, Charles had Erik to keep his standing.
Finding the bunker was almost laughably easy; Emma’s mind was like a beacon, even muted as it was by her suppression collar, and it took him less than five minutes to latch onto it. Charles resisted the urge to rub at his neck; the collar had been gone long before he’s woken up, but he could still feel its weight.
‘Emma,’ Charles projected.
‘Xavier,’ Emma sounded broken, and it only took a moment to discern why.
Azazel and Janos were dead, killed by Trask, and the madman was working over Toad at that very moment. Emma hadn’t loved them, at least not in the way an ordinary person would define love, but they’d been a constant in her turbulent life, the closest she had ever had to family.
‘We’re coming for you,’ Charles promised, ‘Just hang on.’
Charles turned to Alex, “Prep the Blackbird; Emma’s in Vermont.”
“Just Emma?” Sean inquired in confusion, “Where are the others?”
“Dead, or just about, I’m afraid,” Charles revealed.
Anger rippled through Erik and Raven, seeping into Charles’ mind.
‘Magneto and Mystique?’ Emma asked, having felt the rage, with just the slightest amount of hope.
‘Safe,’ Charles assured.
‘Do they know about Sting?’ Emma questioned.
‘Yes,’ Charles confirmed.
‘I’m going to gut that little bitch,’ Emma vowed.
‘Evidently, there’s a line to do that,’ Charles told her.
‘We can take turns,’ Emma announced.
-----------------------------
Erik ripped the door off of Emma’s cell; the destruction placating a small part of his fury, “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Emma replied, relaxing when Erik used his powers to divest her of the hideous collar around her neck. The collar fell to pieces and then the metal in it crumbled into dust.
“Let’s go,” Erik led her through the maze of hallways and out of the bunker, meeting most of the X-Men at the jet.
“We found the others,” Hank told them in a grim tone, “Alex destroyed their bodies, and Trask’s operation room.”
“Where are Wolverine and Banshee?” Armando asked.
“We’re here!” Sean called out, as the two raced over.
“Where the hell have you two been?” Alex demanded.
Logan shared a satisfied grin with Sean before answering, “Ruining Stryker’s year.”
-----------------------------
“It’s gone,” Trask snarled, standing in the wreckage of what had been his most valued collection, slivers of glass crunching beneath his boots, valuable serums mixed together on the floor. What hadn’t been shattered had been stripped apart in a rage, “All of it! All of our samples, our research, they took or destroyed everything!”
“We’ll have to step up operations,” Stryker replied, “We still have a handful of Mutants under our control.”
“We should kill them while we still have the chance,” Trask snapped, “Before the X-Men manage to take them away from us too.”
“Absolutely not, we need them, now more than ever,” Stryker disagreed, “Pack up what you can salvage. We’re moving our operations to Thailand.”
“What part of ‘everything was destroyed’ was too complicated for you?” Trask demanded, “The Mutants are too dangerous; they need to be eradicated!”
“They’re our only hope!” Stryker shouted, “Enough arguing, Bolivar. Do as I say and get ready to move out.”
“I won’t be listening to you,” Trask said slowly, “Not anymore.”
Without warning, he plunged a claw crafted out of adamantium into Stryker’s gut, ripping it back out in another swift motion. Stryker went down immediately, clutching hs stomach, his eyes wide with shock.
He managed to gasp out, through the pain he had to be in, “Trask, why-”
Trask slashed the claw across Stryker’s throat, tearing it open, “Because the human race would be doomed if I were to continue to follow you. It’s unfortunate, really; you were a good friend, Stryker, the best I’ve ever had. Don’t worry, I’ll ensure our people survive.”
The light in Stryker’s eyes faded away a few seconds later, his chest stilling. Trask tucked the claw back into the inside pocket of his lab coat and then knelt in the blood that had begun to pool around the dead man, ensuring that said coat was saturated in it. He stayed there, for at least a half hour, until the back-up Stryker had called in stormed the bunker.
Because God loved him, it was Stryker’s son, Will, that found Trask desperately trying to “stop” the bleeding.
“What…” Will rushed over, sinking to his knees beside Trask, “Dad!”
“It’s too late,” Trask forced his voice to break, “I tried to save him.”
“What happened?” Will questioned, devastated, “Who did this?”
“The Mutant, Wolverine,” Trask lied.
“Wolverine?” Will asked, something dark growing in his tone. Trask reveled in it; perhaps he could save Will like he couldn’t save his father.
“One of the X-Men,” Trask explained, “I warned your father that we needed to take them out; I told him that all Mutants were dangerous, but he was so insistent that we could work with them. He had such faith in them… and look what those monsters have done to repay that faith. They all need to be destroyed.”
“Yes,” Will agreed, his eyes hardening, “You’re absolutely right, Doctor, they do. They will all pay for this.”
“Will?” Ramona entered the room, “Where’s… oh my God, Uncle!”
The Mutant ran to her fallen leader, pulling his head into her lap, frantically searching for a pulse that was long gone.
“All of them,” Trask gave Will a significant look.
Will nodded, snapping open the holster on his hip, pulling out his gun, aiming, and firing it in one fluid motion. Ramona, the Mutant, fell backwards, a bullet buried in her brain.
“Good job, son,” Trask praised, “You’ve helped protect our species from the greatest threat of all… evolution.”
-----------------------------
“What do you mean you’re staying here?” Emma demanded, “What about all of our plans? The Brotherhood?”
“There’s nothing left of the Brotherhood,” Erik pointed out.
“And our last ‘plan’ ended with an entire bus full of schoolchildren dead,” Raven reminded, “Their parents couldn’t even bury them.”
“That was Sting’s fault, not ours,” Emma insisted. “The humans aren’t going to stop trying to come after us just because you chose to hide behind a force field.”
“I know,” Erik agreed, “But from now on, Raven and I will be facing those individuals with our family by our sides and at our backs. You’re more than welcome to be a part of that family, Emma.”
“I don’t think so,” Emma denied the offer immediately, “I have no desire to play ‘house’, Magneto.”
“As you wish,” Erik accepted.
“Where will you go?” Raven asked.
“For now, Europe,” Emma decided, “I’ve always been partial to France.”
-----------------------------
Emma departed without bothering with any kind of farewells; she wasn’t a ‘goodbye’ type of person, Charles knew.
Erik joined him on in the indoor pool deck a few minutes after Emma’s mind had left the grounds, having seen her through the shield. Charles was reclining in a lounge chair, monitoring their children and Ally and Kyle ice-skate on the frozen water. Casper was the only one not enjoying the activity, he was bundled up in a thick blanket in Charles’ lap.
“It’s the middle of June,” Erik stated, frowning at the ice and falling snow, bemused.
“Bobby wanted to teach the Quad and Kyle how to skate,” Charles explained, “So he froze the pool. I’m fairly certain that Melody is the reason that it’s snowing though.”
Erik looked suitably impressed and then turned to Casper, “Why aren’t you skating with your brothers and sisters, little one?”
Casper gave the ice a dark look, “Too cold, Vati.”
On the pool, Aurora wobbled dangerously. Jean reached out with her telekinesis to steady her before her younger sister could fall. Peter zipped around most of the others while Ally and Ororo floated around, skating in the air.
“I’m sorry, Liebling,” Erik consoled, using his powers to levitate the spare change in Charles’ pocket into the air before their son. As Casper watched curiously, the coins began to morph into a tiny silver dragon with copper wings. Casper laughed in delight and Erik held out the toy to his son, “Here you go.”
Casper took it, not with his hands, but with his mind, getting the dragon to dive and loop through the air with an ease that was almost startling. The dragon beat its wings and even roared silently.
Erik’s eyes widened comically, “Charles, that’s not me.”
“So I see,” Charles replied, in awe of their son, “He apparently has your powers too, love.”
“Did you know?”
“I had no idea,” Charles answered, drawing Casper close enough that he could kiss his cheek, “That’s marvelous, darling.”
The children were laughing, the adults were at peace, and Erik was by his side. Charles’ family was whole and safe and strong. It wasn’t perfect, but nothing real ever was.
“Absolutely marvelous.”
{THE END}