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The world was quiet, after Apocalypse died.
Too quiet. Too still. It wasn't right.
But Erik didn't care about any of that. He hadn't even had the chance to process what was happening before he was flying through the air to that half-destroyed building, where the most important person in his whole life lay.
He lay dead.
No. No!
“Charles!” The CIA agent, Moira, was doing chest compressions, “we've lost him. He's gone.”
Erik didn't hesitate. He crashed to his knees next to Charles, tearing the helmet off his head as he did so. He pulled the psychic into his lap and cradled his body like he had done so many years ago on that beach in Cuba. Erik could feel the tears pricking at his eyes already. He was so still. So still.
He had done this. He had caused this. Charles… his Charles…
And Erik didn't even get to apologise. He didn't get to beg him for forgiveness for everything he had done. All the mistakes he had made, the suffering he had caused.
He was too late. He was too late.
There was a sob caught in his throat. Erik was barely aware of the way he choked on his words as he begged Charles to wake up, hand shaking as it reached to cup the professor's cheek. It felt wrong, to be allowed to touch his old friend in such a way. In a way that had once been welcomed, wanted, reciprocated.
Now all Erik wanted was for Charles to tell him to stop, if only to hear the man talk again.
“Charles, please,” Erik whispered, “please, wake up. Please, Charles.”
He couldn't help it. Erik brought his forehead down to rest against Charles’, holding him impossibly closer. “Please, my love.”
It had been far too long since Erik had the right to call Charles as such, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He was gone, and the last piece of Erik Lensherr's heart went with him.
Why was he cursed to lose everyone he loved? Why did his actions cost him the lives of those he loves most? He thought his actions were making the world a better, safer place, and all it did was destroy everything. He couldn't even justify why he had joined Apocalypse in the first place, all he knew was he let his pain and anger take control until he could see nothing else and hurt everyone in his path, including-
“Erik,” came a voice, Hank's voice. A heavy paw landed on his shoulder, “he's gone.”
“No he's not.”
Erik snapped his head up. Jean stood before them, exhausted but focused. She had eyes only for Charles. “I can still feel him.”
Erik watched as Jean knelt down next to them. With a gentle hand she reached out and touched Charles’ cheek, not unlike how Erik had just done yet different entirely. For a moment there was nothing, silence as Jean closed her eyes and concentrated, and with every passing second Erik felt something squeeze tighter and tighter in his chest until-
A breath. A single, deep exhale. A ghost of a smile.
Matching looks of awe and relief from everyone around them.
“Thank you, Jean.” Charles’ voice was rough, strained from pain and exhaustion, but it sounded like perfection.
“Charles,” Moira said, “do you know where you are?”
Charles’ eyes blinked open. He glanced around for a moment, seemingly taking in the faces of everyone around him. Then blue eyes met grey and…
“I'm on a beach,” Charles said, his eyes wide as he stared up at Erik, lips turning upwards, “in Cuba.”
An unsteady hand reached upwards, fingers trembling as Charles’ hand carefully came to rest against Erik's cheek. His thumb brushed away a single tear.
“With you. You're here.”
My love.
Finally it happened. Finally that tight feeling in his throat dislodged in a sob that echoed throughout the space around them as Erik took Charles’ hand in his own, removing it from his own face to press a kiss against the palm and squeeze it tightly. Whether for his own sake or that of the man he held close, Erik couldn't tell, but the look of pure love and adoration in Charles’ eyes hurt to see. After everything, after all the hurt and pain he had caused, the death and destruction…
He had to not remember, and Erik selfishly did not want him to.
“I remember,” Charles spoke softly, or maybe it was just the exhaustion. “I remember, my love. I'm not angry with you-”
“You should be,” Erik choked out, “you should be angry. You should hate me.”
“I don't think there is anything in this world that you could do that would make me hate you.”
It was as if Erik's heart found the ability to beat again, racing in his chest. He leaned down, their foreheads pressed together, words going unspoken but heard nonetheless. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, Liebchen. I'm so sorry.
All is well. All is forgiven. I love you too, my dear. I forgive you.
I will earn it. I will, I promise.
I believe you.
“Hold on!”
The shout startled everyone. Erik angled himself between the shout and Charles, tensing until it was made clear by the follow up of “what did I miss?” that it was just Kurt finally waking up. Only then as laughter overcame them all did things finally begin to feel okay.
“Come on,” Raven said, her eyes suspiciously wet as she nodded out into the chaos of the city that had been their battle field, “let's go home.”
Her words spurred everyone into action. Erik began helping Charles to sit upright, arm around his back for support, but he stopped abruptly when Charles let out a hiss. “Liebchen?”
“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Charles said, but it was through gritted teeth.
“No, you're not. It's okay. You're safe now.”
The way Charles looked into his eyes broke Erik's heart. He didn't need to be a telepath to know exactly how the professor was feeling especially as Charles’ eyes gave it all away. No one escaped such a fight unscathed especially not a fight of the mind, and Erik knew Charles was putting up a front for everyone else's sake.
That didn't work on him.
All semblance of composure disappeared from Charles’ face. “It hurts,” he choked out, “it hurts so much, Erik.”
“Shhhh,” Erik held him closer, Charles’ head resting on his collar as he slipped an arm underneath the telepath's legs and lifted him up off of the sandy ground with ease, “I'm going to take care of you.”
The mansion had been rebuilt. Students were back to their classes, the halls filled with chatter and movement. The world was healing, slowly, and it continued to spin. The world outside of the school felt distant, but unimportant for the moment.
Erik normally would have left by now, but something made it too difficult to walk away. He tried to busy himself, claimed he was making sure the kids were all settled. People paid attention to him, whispers followed where he walked, but there was no outright hostility like he had thought there would be. It felt… odd.
Most of his time, when he wasn't assisting with the rebuilding, was spent taking care of Charles. The battle in Cairo left him scarred in more ways than one. Not a night went by that didn't end with him waking up screaming. Erik hadn't bothered trying to find a separate room to claim, since he always found himself in Charles’ bed soothing his cries and lulling him back to sleep anyway. The mental scars weren't all. Charles was exhausted all of the time, barely having the energy to wheel himself around the school from class to class that he still insisted on teaching. Erik took care of everything. He helped Charles out of bed every morning, took him wherever he wanted to go, barely left his side unless necessary and even then he would check in as much as possible. He knew Charles was struggling to keep everyone's thoughts out of his head, so he made sure to take him for a walk by the lake to get some distance from everyone whenever they could spare the time.
Charles was thankful for everything. He tried to put up a front in front of the students and the kids that had been there in Cairo, but everyone could see he was exhausted and needed rest. His hair hadn't grown back, it likely never would, and he would never truly be okay after such an ordeal, but time would help.
And they had a lot of time now.
“I know what you are doing.”
Charles’ voice shook Erik from his thoughts. They were out by the lake, chessboard between them as they sat under the shade of a tree. Charles’ electric chair couldn't make it on the unstable ground and he had been far too tired to wheel himself, so Erik had taken the handles and pushed his Liebchen outside to find some peace.
“Oh? Getting all in my head, are you?”
“You know I would never do that. Not to you, not without asking-”
“I know,” Erik reached out across the blanket they sat on to take Charles’ hand in his own, “I was only teasing. You worry far too much.”
Charles’ eyes softened just a little. It made Erik smile, so he brought the hand he held up to his lips and kissed the back of it, holding it there for just a moment. Enough for it to mean something.
“I know what you are doing,” Charles repeated, this time softer, “you think you have to take care of me to earn your place here.”
“Can I not just take care of the man I love?” Erik asked, his tone light, but he knew that Charles was right, and that Charles didn't need to read his mind to see it.
He sighed. “I said I would earn your forgiveness. I still intend to.”
“You already have it. Erik, there is nothing you need to ear-”
“Yes there is!” There was no real anger in the words he spat out as he cast his gaze to the lake before them, just a firm insistence that made it clear he didn't believe anything else, “after all I've done, you can't say that I don't have to earn forgiveness, earn my place here.”
Erik knew he didn't belong at the mansion. He betrayed so many people, tried to start a war, a genocide. There were so many innocent children around, how could he stay somewhere so-
“Stop. Please, s-stop.”
Erik snapped his head around and instantly felt his heart shatter as he found Charles hunched over, head in his free hand, eyes squeezed shut as though someone were drilling into his head.
With the way his mutation worked, someone might as well have been.
“Liebchen!”
“You think too loudly, my love.” Charles slowly opened his eyes. Erik, reaching to pull Charles into his lap and hold him close, did his best to shield his thoughts and think only positive ones, ones that wouldn't hurt Charles to hear if only accidentally, but they were few and hard to come by after all that had happened to Erik. He found the best ones were from a lifetime ago, when they first came to this mansion, when they first found love and comfort in each other's arms.
And beds.
“I'm sorry.”
“I'll stop acknowledging your apologies if you keep giving them.”
It was an empty threat, Erik knew it. Charles wasn't capable of not forgiving someone. But it did the job of eliciting a bark of a laugh from Erik.
The bell rang in the distance, the end of the school day. It wouldn't be long before they would not be alone out there in the grounds, students of all ages taking advantage of the afternoon whilst it was still sunny. Erik couldn't find it in him to care if they were seen. Most people already assumed something was going on, if not directly knew in the cases of those who had been in Cairo. Erik just wanted to hold his love in his arms a little while longer. Charles didn't make any attempt to pull away.
Sure enough the doors of the school were soon swinging open and children came running out to enjoy their free time. The peacefulness of the grounds disappeared, the air filled with chatter and laughter and the occasional scream as the younger kids ran around. Erik glanced down at Charles, but the telepath seemed content as he lay there in Erik's arms, eyes closed, smile soft. He didn't seem to be in any pain, just at peace.
He hadn't been at peace for so long, Erik didn't want to disrupt it, but as he gazed out at the students as they went about their afternoon, a burning question kept nagging him. One he had wondered for months as they rebuilt.
“Doesn't it ever wake you up in the middle of the night?” He asked aloud. His words made Charles open his eyes, peering up at him with a furrowed brow. “The feeling that one day they'll come for you, and your children?”
“Our children,” Charles told him. A warm feeling spread inside Erik's chest, something he hadn't felt in so long. Their children… his… “and it does indeed.”
“What do you do when you wake up to that?”
Charles was silent for a moment. He looked back out over the students, and Erik wondered if he was going to say anything at all. Then…
“I feel a great swell of pity for the poor soul that comes to our school looking for trouble.”
There was pride in his words, like he believed that they, as a school, could face any trouble that came their way. They probably could, with the right training, and guidance. The world isn't a very safe place, not for people like them.
“You're sure I can't convince you you don't need to earn your place here?”
Erik raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Charles.
“You're psychic, Charles, you can convince me to do anything.”
It wasn't an answer. Well, it wasn't the right one. Charles’ lack of a response spoke clearly to that. As much as Erik wanted to hide behind quips and remarks, leave things open-ended so not to commit in case his world came crashing down around him again, he knew this time he couldn't. He didn't really want to, just so used to running he didn't know what else to do.
But he did know what he needed to hear, so he pressed a kiss to Charles’ crown and said, “...ask me.”
“Please Erik, my love, will you stay?”
“For as long as you will have me.”
“Forever is a very long time.”
What should have been a perfect moment was ruined by water drenching them both.
“Peter! Get off of the lake!”
The lake was a mess of ripples when Peter Maximoff came to stop directly before the two old men, eyes wide behind his goggles. He pulled the headphones off of his head and the music echoed through them.
“Sorry! I didn't see you there!”
“What have I told you about running on the lake?” Charles scolded, uselessly scrubbing the water from his face with his wet sleeve.
“I'm sorry, Professor.”
He did look genuinely sorry. Erik watched in real time as Charles caved, all fight leaving him as a fond smile appeared on his lips.
“Just… make sure no one is in the splash zone next time,” he said. Peter's face lit up like a Christmas tree and with a few thank yous and a goodbye, he ran off quicker than they could blink, this time the water of the lake staying still.
“He is a menace,” Erik quipped, “what are we going to do with him?”
“He's a good kid, just has too much energy,” Charles told him, “he could do with a mentor; actually, you might do well with him.”
Erik pondered for a second. “Well, there is something about him I just can't quite put my finger on. You might be right.”
“I normally am. I was right about Raven. I was even right about you.”
With a bit of a groan - they weren't exactly young men anymore - Charles sat upright. “But for now, how about tea?”
“Anything for you, Liebchen.”