One Missed Call
He should have known that something was off the moment he saw Moira in the teacher's workroom that morning.
Moira never went to the teacher's workroom if she couldn't help it. She brought her own coffee from home - that really was the only reason anyone went to the workroom, especially before school - and kept a fleet of water bottles and snacks hidden in the back of the arts and crafts cabinet for emergencies.
In the few years he'd been teaching in the city and directly across the hall from Miss MacTaggert, he could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her anywhere other than her classroom, the office, or sitting comfortably in the bright pink plastic chair his own students always dubbed as hers. She was never, ever in the tiny room to the right of the front office, and she never, ever looked quite so smug before eight o'clock.
"Good morning, Charles." She was smiling, which wasn't odd, but she was holding something behind her back and he craned around her to see what it was. She shook her head at him and made the same no-nonsense expression he associated with the troublemakers in her class.
"Good morning, Moira." He said warily, still trying to see what she was holding. "What have you got behind your back?"
"It's a surprise, of course." She said, looking at him as though it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "Today is your birthday after all. Close your eyes."
He sighed and did as he was told, but not without some protesting - "Moira, we're going to be late, you know that, don't you?" - and frowned as soon as he felt fabric slide over his eyes.
"Moira..." Charles could practically feel Moira's far too pleased with herself smile. "What on earth are you doing?"
"It's a surprise, Charles." Moira said a little crossly. He felt her slip her arm through his, effectively leading him out of the teacher's workroom. He hoped, for the sake of himself and his vanity, that no one else was around to witness him being tugged down the hall with a blindfold on his face by Moira, who he was sure would be grinning big enough to split her face. "Don't act like you're too old for this just because you're married, either."
He couldn't help but laugh at that, walking alongside Moira as she rounded a corner. "I wouldn't dream of it." he said, his thoughts immediately jumping to Erik - who hadn't called him yet, but it was early still, and he had woken up to a box on the doorstep with a first edition of The Once and Future King and a handwritten card, signed in Erik's slanting hand, inside. He wished, not for the first time, that Erik could be here, even if they'd made it halfway already.
They stopped, and Moira slipped her arm out of his and opened a door - a classroom, it had to be, the fluorescent lighting was bright even through the blindfold wrapped around his face - and he could hear the unmistakable murmur of children and, somewhere, a giggle.
Moira tugged the blindfold away from his eyes and stepped back, just as each and every one of the students in his own class and hers leapt out from behind tables, chairs, toy boxes, and cubbyholes, screaming in delight.
"Happy birthday, Charles." Moira said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
Raven was there (he never should have put it past the pair of them; she'd been far friendlier with Moira in the past few weeks than she ever had in the past few years, he'd just never put it together), smiling broadly and stepping forward to pull her brother into a hug. The children took it as an opportunity to rush him all at once, shouting Happy birthday, Mr. X! over and over again, each clambering to be heard above the rest. They were tugging on shirt sleeves and trousers and jackets, laughing and exclaiming that this was a surprise party, and that there would be cupcakes for lunch and party hats and plenty of candy (he had to glare at Raven for that, five year old children didn't need any more sugar).
It was, quite possibly, one of the best birthday parties he'd ever had.
Though he planned on leaving the school directly after the final bell (when he was still covered in glitter and wearing a hat his students had made especially for him), Raven had had other plans in mind; she'd announced, as soon as the last child was out the door, that she was starving and needed something to eat right now and that her birthday present to him, aside from her hand in the surprise party at school, was a late lunch at his favorite cafe ("Even if it is somewhat of an absolute shit hole, Charles.").
So they'd gone, talked far longer than two siblings who spoke to one another on a daily basis really ought to, bought half the desserts from the menu, and for a little while, Charles was able to distract himself from the fact that despite how wonderful the day had been, he still wasn't able to celebrate it with the person who mattered the most.
Until, of course, he returned to the apartment, threw his keys onto the kitchen table, and noticed the answering machine blinking with a glaringly obvious number one.
He pressed play, and though there was a brief silence at the very beginning of the message, Erik's voice soon filled the tiny kitchen.
"Hello, Charles."
He sounded so absolutely exhausted it made Charles' chest ache.
"I didn't expect that I would be able to get in touch with you, because if I'm not mistake it's about..." A pause, in which Charles could hear Erik shifting in the quiet of the room. "...Eleven in the morning over in New York. Um..." He cleared his throat, and Charles could practically see him rubbing irritably at his eyes, the gesture so achingly familiar and just so Erik that he couldn't help but frown. "I called to wish you a happy birthday. You have no idea how I wish I were there to be able to celebrate it with you."
There were several long moments of silence, and Charles thought that the line had simply gone dead and that was the end of the message, but just as he was reaching for the machine, Erik's voice picked up again.
"I'm sorry I can't be there. Really. Even though I'm not, I still want you to enjoy yourself. Twenty-nine is a pretty big deal, right?" He laughed, quietly. "But anyway, uh. I love you. I miss you. Hopefully I'll be able to talk to you soon. Good night, Charles."
The message did end then, a short beat of static before the line went dead and the electronic greeting prompted him to save or delete the message. He listened to it again, a hand raking through his hair halfway through as the realization that he'd missed one of Erik's calls hit him - they were few and far between these days, with the project progressing into the later stages of its development, and he wasn't sure when he would be able to speak to him again. He'd been looking forward to the call all day, and he'd missed it.
With a sigh, Charles pulled his own cell phone from his bag and turned it on, opening his inbox and pulling up the last text he'd sent to Erik before he'd fallen asleep the previous night. By now, Erik would be at work again and unable to answer, but he knew he would see it by the time he returned to his hotel.
Sorry I missed your call. My birthday wasn't the same without you there to celebrate. I love you and miss you. Call me when you can, don't work too hard.
He pressed send and tucked the phone away, settling in for a night spent on the couch with a book instead of with his husband.
-End-