She Made It Here
Author's note: My first X-Men fic. I'm so nervous. Okay, so this takes place six months after Days of Future Past, and I'm no good with time travel so please be patient with me. Thanks!
"Papa, I can't!" Sarah cried, gripping onto her father's arms.
"You have no choice," Charles told her, trying to remove her fingers from his arms. "This will keep you safe."
"Papa, no!" Sarah was sobbing now, and was lifted up by Erik, who forcefully pried her fingers from Charles. She buried her face into his chest, as if she were two instead of ten.
"You'll be safe, Prinzessin," Erik murmured into her hair, carrying her towards the glowing portal in the middle of the room.
"Daddy…" She looked up at him, her soft hazel eyes full of fear and hurt. "Please don't leave me."
"I love you." Erik kissed her. "Papa loves you. That's why we're doing this."
"Daddy, no! Daddy!"
She was tossed into the bright blue light, and felt as if she had fallen a hundred feet, landing in a great pool of water. It was the last thing she remembered before things went dark.
"Charles?" Hank called. "I'm going to check the mail."
He didn't expect an answer, but it was polite just the same to let the professor know he was stepping outside. He made a mental note to call someone to come and tend to the grass, as he stepped through tall weeds. He went out to the mail box, near the edge of the property, and was hardly surprised to find only junk. During the first semester while the school was open, they had gotten all kinds of mail. Now it was just sale papers.
As he made his way back to the house, his senses picked up another life form. He looked around, but saw no one. He put his hand on the door knob, and then he knew his mind was not playing tricks on him. An odd sound was near. Small, unthreatening, but unfamiliar just the same.
"Hello?" He asked warily, looking around.
He listened, letting the beastly instincts take over, and finally his eyes followed his ears to the fountain that no longer bubbled water. Sitting beside it, knees drawn up, was a child.
"Oh my God," he muttered, dropping the junk mail and rushing over to them.
It was a little girl with sandy blonde hair that looked in desperate need of brushing. Her clothes were simple enough-jeans and a striped sweater, both dirty and covered in little tears. He could see and smell blood through one of the knees.
"Hey?" He said softly, kneeling down. "Are you okay?"
The girl looked up, her eyes full of tears.
"I'm lost," she choked out.
Hank didn't know what Charles was going to say about a stray child coming into the mansion, but what choice did he have? Plenty of runaway children had come in, but most of them were older.
"Come on," he said, rubbing her arm in a slightly awkward fashion. "Let's go tend to that cut on your leg."
The little girl followed shyly behind him into the house, and stopped once they reached the front entrance. She looked around, tears still in her eyes, but there seemed to be a sense of relief too. Hank touched her shoulder gently and prodded her to the main parlor, where he coaxed her to sit on a couch.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Sarah," She said, watching as he left the room and returned with a medical kit.
"I'm Hank," he said, smiling at her. He really did like kids, even if he was awkward around them.
"Mind if I…" He touched the hem of her jeans, she nodded, assisting him in rolling one pant leg up to the knee, where she had a bad scrape.
"Are you here alone, Sarah?" Hank asked, tending the wound.
Sarah nodded.
"Did your parents send you?"
She nodded again. "They sent me here to protect me."
Hank paused. He could understand, to a degree, sending a Mutant child away to protect them, but a child this young? And how could he tell her the school was closed?
"Hank?" Charles called, coming down the stairs. "Are you talking with someone? Who's here-"
He stopped short when he saw the girl on the sofa, Hank dressing her wound. He looked at Hank, who only shrugged one shoulder and mouthed something that resembled 'I don't know'.
"Hello," Charles said, cautiously, continuing down the stairs.
Sarah stared at him like she was looking at a ghost. Ignoring the fact that Hank had not bandaged her up yet, she stood up slowly, still staring at Charles.
"Are you here alone?" Charles asked.
"Papa." The word was barely above a whisper.
"Come again?" Charles almost chuckled.
The girl did not even crack a smile. She squinted skeptically , cocking her head slightly. Very slowly, and with a slight limp, she moved closer to him.
"Papa," she said again, and tears began pouring down her face. "Papa!"
She embraced him, but Charles held her at bay by her arms.
"No," he said. "I'm sorry, Miss, there's some kind of mistake."
"Papa, it's me!" The girl seemed genuinely scared.
"Hank," Charles said sternly and wished he could mentally project to him for help.
"I found her outside by the fountain crying," Hank said.
"Papa, don't you know me? It's me, Sarah!" She tried to hug him again, shaky sobs emerging from her. "What's wrong with you?"
Charles backed up to the stairs.
"Listen, I'm sorry. I really am, but I've never seen you before. I don't have any children."
He sighed as she cried quietly into her hands, and ran his own hands through his shaggy, unkempt hair. Hank looked between them and finally asked, "What is your father's name?"
"I have two," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Two what?" Charles asked, his voice softening. He did feel for her. No matter how bitter he'd become over the past decade, he had a soft spot for those in need.
"Fathers," she sniffed.
Hank and Charles' brows simultaneously furrowed, and Charles asked, "What are their names?"
"Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr," she told him.
Charles didn't gasp or laugh or even scoff at the idea. He scrubbed a hand down his face, and narrowed his eyes to Hank, who said nothing.
"Right," Charles said. "Nice trick. Who put you up to it?"
"Charles," Hank scolded softly.
Charles did scoff this time. "I'm not her father! Erik can't be her father! He's been locked up the past ten years! We couldn't have even-"
He was suddenly aware of a warm feeling spreading within him. Sarah, still sniffling, had her hand to her temple, looking at him. Charles was instantly filled with a familiar sensation, and images he couldn't place. They were blurry and far away, mixed with sounds that were barely coherent. One of the images was more clear than the others, if only by a fraction, and even if he could have seen it better, something just told him it was him…with Erik.
"She's the one," Charles said, cradling something in a blanket. "The students mean a lot, but she's ours, Erik."
"Perfection," Erik murmured, as Charles passed him the bundle. "We've only known her for a few hours, and I'm already in love with her."
The image was pulled from his mind and replaced with brief spots of hands to a feverish forehead, shared ice cream cones, and strong arms lifting a little girl into a lap.
Charles did not expect it all to be ripped away so suddenly, and when the images left, he was left with the warm feeling, though it was fading.
"You're…" he blinked and shook his head a little. "You're a telepath."
"No." Sarah shook her head. "Well, not all the time. Only when I'm around you."
"Huh?" Charles frowned.
"You're a Mutant?" Hank guessed.
Sarah ignored Hank and looked at Charles, letting a few last tears slide down her face.
"I don't know what to do," Charles said, pouring himself another drink as he paced back in forth in the study. "What's she's saying can't be true."
Hank drew designs on the mahogany desk with his index finger.
"You and Erik were once together," he said. "And remember just six months ago? With Logan?"
"Logan?" Charles frowned. "What's he got to do with this?"
Hank laughed a little nervously. "Well…I mean, he came from future. What if this girl, Sarah-"
"We changed that future," Charles reminded him. "Erik is still out there, up to no good."
The two of them were silent for a moment, the only sound being Charles' glass against the desktop. Without a word, they went to check on Sarah, who was now asleep on the couch, her face dirty and stained with tears.
"Why don't read her mind?" Hank suggested.
Charles sighed through his nose, sounding frustrated.
"Get me my chair."
He still did not like becoming reacquainted with his powers, nor did he like losing the use of his legs. Hank had created an alternative drug to immediately flush out the serum that allowed Charles' legs to work. In theory, Charles was going to ease off of the serum all together, get used to the chair, and keep his powers. That was the plan six months ago after they stopped Raven from killing Trask.
Once in his wheelchair, Charles rolled up his sleeve and injected himself with the new drug. Within minutes he could feel his legs going out, and voices returning to his head. He winced, and Hank hovered over him, worried.
"I'm fine," Charles breathed. "I'm just still getting used to it."
He gave himself ten minutes to adjust, and then looked at Sarah, placing a hand to his head.
"Daddy!" She screamed as a man in what looked like a SWAT uniform kicked down a door.
Erik waved his arm, sending the man flying, and scooped her up.
"Charles!" He yelled.
Sarah stirred and her eyes fluttered open.
"I'm cold," she said, curling into a little ball.
Charles asked Hank to go and draw a bath. While he was gone, Charles and Sarah looked at each other.
"Are you from the future?" He asked.
"No." Sarah's brows furrowed.
"What year is it?" Charles quizzed.
"1983," she said.
Charles chuckled softly and said, "God!"
"What?" Sarah sat up.
Hank returned and said, "Bath's ready."
Charles brushed some of her hair away from her tear stains. " Go wash up."
While she was in the bath, in the lavish master bathroom she was used to, Sarah plunged her face into the water. It was dark and quiet under the water, and in her mind, she called for her other father.
"What is the meaning of this, Charles?"
Hank was startled when hours after Sarah had been put to bed, that Magneto burst through the front door of the mansion using his powers. Charles, who had been talking to Hank in the darkness of the parlor until they'd both decided to head to bed, wheeled into the room.
"Erik?" He frowned. "What are you doing here?"
"You brought me here," Erik said. "Your powers."
"What?" Charles frowned. "No, I haven't projected anything to you."
He wanted to say, 'I've been so busy dealing with a little stranger who claims to be…' his own thought was interrupted when he put it together.
"She summoned him," he told Hank, who nodded.
"Who summoned me?" Erik asked, taking off his coat. "Since I'm here, you might as well offer me a drink."
Charles handed him the glass of scotch right out of his hand. Erik sat on the sofa beside Charles' chair and sipped.
"Should I leave you two alone?" Hank asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Thank you, Hank," Charles said, giving him a sincere smile. "Good night."
"Night," Hanks said, happy to leave. He was not like Raven or Alex. He did not want to stick around for the drama that was about to come.
"I didn't call for you," Charles said.
"I didn't come on my own accord," Erik countered, staring at him.
Their hands were close, and Erik dared to touch his pinky finger to Charles'.
"Erik," Charles sighed. "Remember six months ago? Well, of course you do. I'm not going to waste any time. Did you believe Logan?"
"That he was from the future?" Erik asked, smiling, his eyebrows raised.
Charles just stared at him.
"I don't know," Erik finally said, shrugging. "Why?"
"Come with me." Charles said, pushing his chair. "We'll have to take the elevator."
"No, we won't."
Erik simply lifted the chair up the stairs, which Charles was secretly grateful for, though he wasn't going to admit it. He wheeled himself to one of the rooms, Erik following close behind, and pushed open the door that was ajar.
Erik could see a shadowy figure in the bed across the dark room and whispered, "He's back?"
"No, my friend," Charles said, shaking his head. "It's much worse."
Together, they moved to the bed and Erik stared down at the little girl. He looked at Charles for an explanation.
"Her powers brought you here," Charles told him.
"She's a telepath," Erik said.
Sarah stirred and Charles was quick to rouse her with his powers, gradually, making her wake a peaceful one, not a startled one.
When her eyes opened, she blinked drowsily at them, first at Charles, and then Erik.
"Daddy?" She said groggily, sitting up.
It took her only a few seconds, and she threw herself at Erik.
"Daddy!" She sobbed, wrapping her arms and legs around his tall, muscular frame.
Erik tensed, unsure of what to do. Charles projected to him what were now memories to him, what Sarah had transferred to his mind earlier in the day. Erik let out a small gasp when it was over, and blinked, as if waking from a dream.
"I don't understand."
"She says she's our daughter," Charles explained.
Charles wanted to speak with Erik alone, so he gently coaxed Sarah back to sleep using telepathy, and expected Erik to put her back on the bed. It surprised him, when he didn't, and instead, sat down on the unmade comforter, still holding her.
"Who is she, Charles?" He asked.
Charles angled himself out of his chair to sit beside him on the bed.
"She thinks the year is 1983," he said. "She said we sent her here for safe keeping. I've looked into her mind, and we were there."
"How?" Erik asked.
"Good question," Charles said, placing one hand to his head, and the other to Erik's. "Let's find out."
"Charles?" Erik asked groggily, reluctant to move his arm from on top of the other man.
"There's a baby here," Charles said, his voice equally foggy with sleep. "I can hear it crying."
Erik chuckled."You're dreaming. Go back to sleep."
Charles sat up and shook Erik.
"Turn on the light," he commanded, and Erik did so, flipping the metal switch with his power.
They both blinked furiously, adjusting to the light, and listened beyond the sound of rain pattering against the window.
"I don't hear anything," Erik said.
Charles placed a hand to his forehead, putting a finger to Erik's lips. Thunder sounded, and the lights flickered.
"It's outside," Charles said, throwing the blankets off of himself.
Erik got out of bed and slipped into his pajama bottoms. Charles was already half decent, but he maneuvered himself into his chair and asked Erik to hand him his sweatshirt.
It was pouring down outside, and even when the front door was opened, Erik still couldn't hear anything. He didn't want to go out, but Charles had already started his chair that way.
"Charles!" He called.
"The fountain!" Charles called back.
Erik stopped his chair and pulled it back. Kissing him quickly he said, "I'll go."
There was no bother to rush. It was raining so hard that he was going to get soaked either way, so Erik simply walked out to the fountain. It was only then that his ears picked up what Charles' mind had been hearing. A faint wail against the rain.
A wet bundle in cardboard carton on the other side of the fountain is where the sound was coming from. Erik peered into the box, and his heart stopped when he realized there actually was a baby there, howling as water poured onto it.
"Oh my God," he said, taking it out of the box.
He half jogged back to the porch, and Charles was trying to raise himself the best he could to get a good look.
"Let's get it inside," he said, and Erik nodded.
They worked together to dry the baby off-the baby they knew was a girl now that they had a closer look. Charles had no bottles or diapers. It would have to wait until morning, but after she was dry, he used his powers to lull her to sleep.
All he could get from her mind were two individuals stopping a car, one of them holding the baby and making an unhuman leap over the gate and sliding the box across the yard, where it stopped at the fountain.
"Charles," Erik said, drying his own hair.
"Erik, we couldn't possibly…" but it was on Charles' mind too.
"Alright then," he said. "What should we call her?"
"My mother used to tell me if she'd had a daughter, her name would have been Sarah," Erik told him.
"I like that," Charles said.
The memory left them both feeling drenched and cold, though they were perfectly dry. Erik looked at Charles, and Charles looked at him.
"So what do we do now?" Erik asked.
Charles ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "I don't know."
To Be Continued..