AN: This is an alternate universe I invented. Charles is a college professor, teaching genetics. Erik is an interrogation expert for the FBI (they live in Washington DC). They have their powers, but mutants face extremely violent prejudice, so neither uses them outside of their home, nor are they known as mutants. Charles can walk since he wasn't shot during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Erik and Charles live together and are engaged.

Charles Xavier was tired. Tired of his anxiety, tired of having to hide, tired of panic attacks, tired of breaking down, tired of all the disrespect. Wiping his eyes, he got up from his desk and grabbed his brief case. He was going home.

As soon as Charles sat down on the bench by the bus stop, he felt the raindrops on his head.

"Damn it all," he grumbled as the rain became steadily harder. The bus pulled up and Charles put in his cash and sat down on the nearly empty bus. He felt his heart sinking into his shoes as he thought about the events of the day. Thunder rumbled as the rain pounded against the thin glass of the window. Lightning flashed in the distance, and Charles gazed at the small silver box on the ceiling of the aisle. The small light was steadily pulsing green. No mutant activity detected. Charles thought bitterly. The human race had always been afraid of what they couldn't control or understand. Now, if he even hinted he wasn't like them, he'd be dead or tied to a tree somewhere being beaten. People didn't understand mutants weren't evil…

"End of the line," the driver called as the bus screeched to a halt. Charles pulled himself out of his seat, thanking the driver as he got off the bus. The rain was even harder than before, and he was still a block and a half away from home. He dashed down the sidewalk, tripping on a raised piece of concrete, and sliding across the rough surface. After he recovered from the initial shock, Charles pulled himself onto a sitting position under the streetlight and looked at his knees. His left pant leg had been torn open and his knee was oozing blood. His palms were raw, red, and stinging. His wet hair fell in his face. What's the matter with you? He felt himself breaking inside as he limped towards the house. Every step was harder. Emotionally, he was drained. He didn't understand how, but he felt as if his heart had been ripped out. The cold rain made him shake, and he almost tripped again going up the steps to the home he and Erik shared. He opened the door and was overwhelmed by the wonderful scent and the warmth. He dragged himself inside.

"Erik, I'm home," he called feebly. He heard footsteps, and Erik appeared from the hall. As soon as he saw Charles, his face clouded with worry.

"Charles darling, what happened?" He asked, wrapping his arms around his shivering lover. "You're soaked. You didn't walk all the way from the university, did you?"

"No, I took the bus. But I fell as I was running home and must have been down longer than I thought. Today hasn't been the best day…"

"Oh Charles," Erik said, shaking his head and kissing him on the forehead. "You're going to catch cold. Go change your clothes, then you're going to tell me everything that's bothering you, okay?"

"Alright," Charles said with a soft sigh. He went upstairs to their bedroom and stripped off his cold, wet clothes. He towelled off his damp skin and hair and pulled on some dry pyjamas. He cleaned the dirt and tiny pebbles out of his bloody knee and plodded back downstairs to the dining room.

"Do you feel any better?" Erik asked as his fiancé sat across from him at their small table.

"A bit," Charles said with a slim smile. "Thank you for making dinner, darling."

"Gladly. Now, tell me, what's wrong?" Erik reached over and took Charles' hand.

"Well," Charles said sighing. "I had a panic attack today after hearing that another mutant was killed in Maryland, and that threw me off for the whole day. A few students were being incredibly rude to me because they were older than me. At lunch, there was a group of other professors were talking about how the government should require mutants to register themselves and inform all employers of their "mutant status." It made me so uncomfortable… Then I was reading the first drafts of a couple senior theses, and I started…crying. I don't even know why. It was like I was a girl on her period with her emotions all haywire. But then I just felt so exhausted; it was like I was drowning in darkness. I needed to go home, so I took the bus and it was raining and while I was running home, I fell. It just felt like an insult to injury, you know… I'm just so glad I have you, Erik..."

"Goodness," Erik said, standing up and taking him in his arms. "I'm so so sorry." Charles was crying into Erik's stomach, and Erik patted his hair and crouched down so their faces were on the same level. He pressed his lips gently to Charles' cheek. He wiped away the salty rivulets from Charles' face with his fingers and gazed deep into his lover's piercing blue eyes. "It's going to be okay, I promise. It's all going to be okay. I'll always protect you." Erik felt Charles' helplessness and suffering. He held him close and tried to show him he'd never break his word. The smartest man he knew felt fragile in his arms, broken and hurting like a baby bird fallen from the nest. Charles' empathy often caused him great pain, and Erik wished he could spare him from that. He was hardened by his past, but Charles did not have such shielding. He sniffed and looked up at Erik.

"I'm sorry for the breakdown. Thank you for being here for me, always," he whispered.

"Charles, you are the love of my life. I hate that you feel like this," Erik replied, taking Charles' hand and kissing it. "Try not to let people get to you. Even if they do, remember this home is your sanctuary, and I will always protect you. All you have to do is come home, and we'll get through this together."

"Oh, Erik," Charles said, wrapping his arms around Erik's neck. "How could I be so lucky to have you?"

"I wonder that about you every single night," he replied with a grin. He leaned in and kissed Charles lightly. "You are perfect, Charles Francis Xavier."

Erik felt Charles snuggle closer to him under the warm covers. His back was pressed tightly against Erik's chest, and his fingers were entwined with Erik's. The soft light of the streetlamp outside filtered through the slats of the blinds and made the window glow faintly. The rain fell outside, making a lovely sprinkling sound as it hit the ground and the roof. It all felt so perfect: holding Charles in the dim room, their cosiness under the wool blanket, raining falling outside; everything radiated the love he and Charles shared. As Erik was drifting off to sleep he whispered,

"I love you, Charles."

"I love you too, Erik," was the reply. "More than anything in the world."