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We need to talk.
Certainly the four most unfortunate words to be put together in a sentence. Erik spent the day in a bad mood. He liked Charles, he really did; he hadn’t been that involved in a relationship ever before. Of course they were in their early twenties – nineteen actually, where Charles was concerned, but his IQ and the articles he kept publishing made you forget that more often than not – anyhow, Erik knew they were unlikely to last forever, but he’d have liked them to last a little bit longer. They had met two years ago, but had only been dating a few months, and Erik thought it was going well. He was pissed. We need to talk – fuck those four words. They could hardly mean anything else than one of two things, and since Charles wasn’t a woman, clearly they were breaking up.
But Charles was a reasonable person – and Erik really did like him – so he gave him a chance to reason and be reasoned. Maybe he could still turn him around.
Charles looked intensely nervous when he picked Erik up at the train station – it was supposed to be Charles’s turn to come to London, in their arrangement, but he had asked Erik if he didn’t mind joining him in Oxford that weekend too.
Charles kissed him welcome, with a taste of desperation. Erik kissed him back, but he felt his heart sink. He was certain now this was going to be a hard breakup – or a hard fight against it. Charles’s demeanour was clear: he didn’t want to split, but he had a good reason to. He was sad, and he was afraid, and it was breaking Erik’s heart already.
Right there, right then, he knew he was going to fight for this boy.
They drove to Charles’s room in half silence, half slightly awkward casual conversation. Erik didn’t press him to say what was going on already. It would probably go better if they could sit down, have a drink and/or break things. Erik refused the drink though, when Charles offered – better save it for later.
“Stop pacing.” He told his boyfriend. “And just tell me.”
Charles took a deep breath in.
“Right.” He breathed out. “Do you remember my paper on secondary mutations?”
Erik frowned. Not the gambit he’d expected.
“Of course I do.”
He had met Charles at a mutant rights demonstration, and discovered afterwards that the boy had played a huge part in actually revealing the existence of mutants – at fourteen or fifteen years old, right after he’d passed his A-levels ridiculously brilliantly. Since then, he had written many articles explaining the different kinds of mutations, where they could come from, why this and how that. He published under various aliases, especially once the word was out that Pr. Charles Xavier was actually a kid – an exceptionally gifted and scarily smart kid, but kid nonetheless. The previous year, he had carried out a study about the “side effects”, in a way, of mutations – the overlooked changes in one’s body or abilities that weren’t the most noticeable attribute of the mutant subject.
“Why?” Erik asked.
“I have one.” Charles dropped nervously. “The second category kind.”
He had classified those changes in two main categories; Erik, in less scientific terms than him, summarized that into “the useless ones”, and “the bonus ones”. As an example, category one changes could be a modification of the skin colour, or other alterations of appearance – they didn’t give the subject any more power. Category two changes were closer to what Charles called actual secondary mutations, and he took his sister as an example. Raven’s main ability was to shape-shift; secondarily, she was far stronger that the average teenage girl and impossibly flexible.
“Actually.” Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not even sure it is. It’s closer to my conclusion.”
Raven’s abilities still fell under the body-enhancement type and were altogether the same mutation. Charles had concluded his study by suggesting that evolution could maybe bring on, someday, mutants with several mutations, more than one set of entirely different abilities having nothing to do with one another.
“It’s the first time I’ve encountered something like that.” Charles added. “And I interviewed a lot of people.”
“What is it?” Erik asked. He was beginning to worry.
Charles had a sunken look, and Erik realized something that should have been obvious from the beginning, given the way the younger man was acting. Charles wasn’t going to break up with him. Charles had something to tell him, and he expected Erik to leave him when he knew. Erik held his breath. Charles swallowed with difficulty.
“I’m...I’m, I’m.” He stammered.
“Charles!” Erik snapped, on edge. “You are killing me.”
“I’m pregnant.”
*
“Hey little hijacker!”
Erik placed a kiss on Charles’s round belly – almost eight months now – then on Charles’s forehead.
“How are you two doing?”
“Hank says we’re fine.” Charles said noncommittally.
It hadn’t been easy finding a specialist who not only accepted mutants, but could deal with a pregnant male mutant, whom on top of everything knew a lot more than your average doctor. Charles had been less than enthusiastic when Raven had introduced her boyfriend into that equation, but Hank – a young genius like Charles, so they could relate – had turned out to be exactly what they needed (on top of being great for Raven). Charles was being monitored very closely, even more so since he was in his third trimester. Erik gave him a smile.
“And what does Charles say?” He teased.
Charles sighed, trying to heave himself up the pillows – without much success.
“Charles feels like a beached whale, and is in that phase again.” He gave Erik a suspicious pout.
That phase came back on average every three weeks since the beginning of the pregnancy. That phase was Charles going out of his mind wondering why on earth Erik was still with him and/or when he was going to decide he’d had enough. He hadn’t expected him to stick around, let alone to seem so happy about it, and he still couldn’t quite believe his luck.
“Read my mind.” Erik said reassuringly. “And let me know if you still doubt me.”
Charles had a little smile, which turned into a little frown. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.
“You’re thinking too hard.” He accused. “What are you hiding?”
Erik had first told Charles he loved him about two months into the pregnancy – just like that, one night, he had lifted his eyes up to him at dinner like he was realizing something, and had said “I love you” in an almost surprised tone. Charles had smiled softly. “And I love you. I’ve loved you since we first met two years ago.” He’d answered. “I only said it when you couldn’t hear me.” He had been afraid to scare him off. But then he more than made up for lost time, and Erik was far from being outdone in the matter either.
“It’s our anniversary.” Erik reminded him.
“I know.” Charles said. “And I wish I could wheel myself to a restaurant, but...”
“And we’re having a baby.” Erik interrupted.
Charles glared. “I’m quite aware of that.”
He was happy, of course, ecstatic about it even, but still, the kid had hijacked his body – as Raven told him when she heard, and the nickname stuck – in ways that were not entirely comfortable.
“And I love you.” Erik added.
Charles opened his mouth to compliment Erik on his ability to state the obvious, but then he noticed the small orb floating a few inches from his face.
“What is this?”
“Just me.” Erik grinned. “Being a constant surprise.”
He was. He really was, incredibly so for someone who was dating a telepath. Charles held out his hand; instead of landing on it, the metal bubble dissolved, and a smaller object fell into Charles’ palm.
“Oh, God.” Charles’ heart missed a beat. “Is that...”
He looked up to Erik, then back to the ring in his hand like it was going to explode.
“That is, indeed.” Erik said, shark smile back on his face. He sat on the bed and placed both hands on the sides of Charles’ stomach. “Charles Francis Xavier. Will you give this baby married parents?”
The baby kicked against Erik’s hands. Charles smiled.
“I think we’d both very much like that, yes.”
*
“It’s a boy.” Hank announced – he had been with the team who’d surgically delivered the baby, and had personally checked him and cleaned him while Charles was brought back to his hospital room to rest – a private wing, most of the staff mutants themselves.
Hank placed the little bundle into Charles’s arms. Charles and Erik looked at each other.
“Jack.” They said together.
“Seriously?” Raven commented mockingly. “That’s way too original, are you sure?”
“We’ve been calling him that for six months.” Charles justified – give or take a few extra letters. “It fits him.” He kissed the little face adoringly.
“Hm.” Raven shrugged. “Don’t give him a stupid middle name then. People will say you’re overcompensating. Not to mention Lehnsherr-Xavier. Jesus, this kid is going to have a hard time.”
Charles didn’t comment on that, because little baby Jack sneezed against him, and everyone awed. Erik picked up his son, and found one tiny hand which wrapped around his finger, feather-light.
“Hey little hijacker.” He said softly. “Little Jack. Welcome to the world.”
They put the baby in his crib then, and left the room to let Charles sleep a little.
When Erik came back, he sat on the edge of Charles’s bed with a proud smile on his face.
“Look.” He produced a blanket.
The name Jack was embroidered on one side, in metallic threads thin as spider silk. Charles ran his fingers over it, amazed.
“Did you do that?” He asked rhetorically. “Erik, this is so beautiful.”
“You are so beautiful.” Erik replied, ever so slightly cheesy, leaning in to kiss his fiancé. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”
“I didn’t even marry you yet.” Charles mocked him.
“Only because you didn’t want to look fat on the wedding pictures.” Erik replied. “Your words, not mine.”
“Can you blame me?”
“I thought you looked perfect.” Erik kissed him again.
“Stop being so sappy.” Charles pushed him with a laugh.
Erik only grinned really widely. “I love you. Let’s wrap our son in this.”
Erik went to the crib, and Charles closed his eyes blissfully for a moment, until:
“Charles.” Erik sounded more terrified than Charles had ever heard him.
He felt instant alarm rise through him. “What?” He sat up, wincing at the pain when the scar pinched.
Erik was looking down at the baby in the crib, one blanket in each hand. He looked at Charles, blood drawn from his face.
“It’s a girl.”
Mayhem ensued – Charles nearly had a panic attack, Erik screamed bloody murder and would have gone through every room in the hospital to look for whomever had switched his son for another baby if he hadn’t been restrained by an intern, Raven almost strangled Hank asking him how the hell he had let anyone suspicious even come near Charles, even though he was swearing nobody had been through the corridor except for them. Eventually Hank took the little girl away, after Erik had promised he wouldn’t go and kill anyone – to be fair, he had other priorities when Charles started crying. He held him, swearing under his breath. Raven stood by the bed biting her nails, resisting the urge to run after Hank and shake him until he could tell them what had happened. She had turned a fade shade of blue, having trouble controlling every detail of her appearance.
“They have CCTV.” She commented. “They’ll find Jack.”
She paused, and then added vehemently.
“And if the lunatic who did this is really horrible, we’ll adopt that poor little girl too!”
“Don’t make plans yet.” Hank stepped in, coming back with the baby in his arms.
Like earlier, he placed the tiny human being in Charles’s arms. Erik was still holding him, and they both looked up without understanding. The blanket was loose, and the baby was still unmistakably female.
“Congratulations.” Hank said. “You found out your child’s mutation.”
He produced a series of test results – he had probably harassed everyone in his lab to obtain them this quickly – for the confused parents.
“I checked it in every way I could.” He said. “This is the child you carried. She...he...inherited from your mutation, Charles. Not the telepathy, or at least I don’t know that yet, but the...”
“Gender-bending thing, yeah.” Charles filled in uncomfortably. “So this is our baby?”
“This is your baby.” Hank confirmed. “You could say his Y chromosome sort of, flickers. I saw it myself, you can trust me. She switched twice while I was running the tests. You’ll have to teach him to control it.” He frowned, as if rewinding what he’d just said. “This pronoun thing is going to be confusing, isn’t it?”
Charles let out a nervous laugh, and looked down at his baby, then to Erik. Erik smiled, and kissed him, then the baby.
Raven let out a relieved sigh, then a chuckle.
“You now have a part-time daughter named Jack.” She pointed out. “Well done.”