After this many years in relative peace, Erik has grown to sleep more heavily than he ever did during his Nazi-hunting days on the road. That being said, he is still not what one would call a heavy sleeper. He has extremely good ears and even now, the slightest unfamiliar sound is enough to rouse him.
From somewhere deeper inside the mansion, the echo of a vase wobbling atop its stand pulls him immediately from his slumber. He wakes tense and deathly still, staring hard between Charles' shoulder blades as the other man lies next to him.
It's stopped. And this concerns Erik more than an obvious bang or crash. That, he could easily attribute to one of the students out of bed after hours. What's even more concerning is that Charles hasn't woken.
Charles sleeps just as, if not more, lightly than Erik does, thanks to his mutation. With the collective dreaming minds of the children in the mansion a cluster of uncensored thoughts, seemingly seeking out the telepath's attention, Charles is awake at night more often that he's asleep. But presently, the other man is breathing softly on his side, facing away from his bedmate. Erik is sure that Charles' telepathy would have woken him at once if it had skimmed the thoughts of an unknown or unwanted presence in the mansion. The abrupt snag of a concealed branch in Charles' river of consciousness that knows the shape and smoothness of every stone is bound to wake him from an already tentative sleep. With this knowledge, part of Erik is tempted to dismiss the noise.
But the part that has been fed and nurtured with paranoia and fear knows better. With a breath through his nose, he lets his power wash through the mansion from where he lies, still unmoving and edgy. Not know what he's looking for. But just as Charles knows the form of the every student's mind with such familiarity, Erik knows all the fittings and fixtures of the school by heart. His magnetic field travels along the flooring like a rushing tide, playing dot to dot with the nails in the boards.
Suddenly, he feels a floorboard compress, protesting against the metal grain of a nail that holds it tight. And it is not with the conspiratory softness of a tiptoed midnight kitchen raid that it moves. There is none of the lightness of a tiny squishy someone looking for a bathroom. It isn't even the firmness of Colossus walking the halls. No, it's the slow, careful trod of a boot.
When alarm bells begin to scream inside Erik's head, Charles finally wakes.
"Merghhhs?" He mumbles, rolling over awkwardly, fingers automatically seeking out Erik's chest and warm skin.
"Charles," hisses Erik in the dark, snatching up the other man's hand and squeezing it hard. "There's someone in the house." Charles eyes are urgently wide in an instant.
"The children."
Erik is out of bed and rounding on Charles' side before the other man even has time to shove his fluffy bed hair out of his face and sit up. With ease, Erik whips Charles into his arms and then pulls his wheelchair into the air next them to better ease Charles into it. Erik knows Charles hates being carried but he hopes he will overlook it just this once, given the situation at hand. They've no time to lose.
"How many?" Erik asks Charles. He keeps the wheelchair levitating next to him as he slinks to the door. He feels Charles shake his head without looking back.
"They're blocking me, I can't feel anything," Charles tells him in a whisper. "It's like Shaw's helmet." Erik growls under his breath.
"I should have never left that thing on the beach."
"Shaw had to have gotten it from somewhere originally, darling." Charles, ever the peace keeper.
Out in the hall, the house is dark and quiet. Erik strains his ears but it's gone silent again.
"Link us up," he says to Charles who is still floating close at his shoulder. "Get the children down here along the west wing stairway. We can watch through their eyes. Keep them safe." They're making their way along the hall, one tiny step at a time. Erik knows Charles wishes he would put him down, but it's quieter this way.
"No, I need a clear head," murmurs Charles. "I've woken everyone but networking us all together will frighten the little ones. They're all with their floor leaders now. They know what to do. They'll be alright, Erik."
He knows Charles is right, but Erik can't deny how much he hates the idea of the children being split up into their little floor groups, hiding out in the secret passages throughout the mansion. He wants them all together. Wants to defy the dimensions of a single tunnel and cram them all inside just one, with Charles stuck right in the middle. And then Erik will close the door behind him and stalk off to find whoever it is who has the audacity to invade his school.
"We shouldn't have assigned ourselves as floor leaders," Erik laments gruffly. In the gloom, he watches Charles quirk a small, tense smile his way.
"But who better to protect them, Erik?" he says softly.
"Who better to defend them, Charles?"
"We have the smallest group, love."
They leave it there because by this point, they've made it along to the next set of doors.
Mansion protocol dictates that in an event of an emergency, or if they are woken urgently by Charles, the students are to stand next to the inside of their doorways with their back to the wall, and wait for their floor leader. The door to this room, which is the only other occupied room along a hall that mostly hosts studies and the library, is already slightly ajar. It's for new residents. For unsettled little ones who want to stay near Charles (and apparently Erik, though he's sure the students much prefer Charles) while they settle in before inevitably making a friend in another room.
Erik finally sets Charles' chair down, and the other man wheels to the door. He pushes it open slowly and calls, "Ororo, Kurt? Come on darlings, it's alright." Kurt and Ororo are not against the wall by the door, they're under one of the beds. Erik can see Kurt's yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. It's a bit ominous, until the two children come crawling out from under the bed and Kurt pounces into Charles' lap, shoving himself as close as he can to the professor, down the side of the wheelchair. Ororo, or Storm, as she has recently taken to being called, to Erik's surprise, comes to him rather than Charles. Without hesitation, Erik reaches down and sweeps the little girl into his arms.
They're back in the hall a few seconds later, tucked into a nook near where the hallway turns left towards the library, backs to the wall.
"Where to next?" asks Charles, bright eyes sharp in the low light, brows furrowed seriously, even as his hands gently soothe Kurt. The muscle in Erik's jaw feathers. He can sense how difficult Charles is finding it to only have any sort of control of the situation secondhand. They both need this to be over soon.
Letting Charles mind the children for a moment, Erik concentrates hard and presses his magnetic field as far as he can, out across the grounds. There are a lot of them. He can tell now. There aren't any metal weapons on them, they've been well informed, but they're not as good as they think they are. Erik rustles through, finding a throng of soldiers in the bushes near the kitchen by the tiny metal clasp on a hair tie. He clocks another by a forgotten paper clip, pocketed from last minute briefing documents. The invaders are quickly betrayed by any tiny trace of metal. It's enough.
Erik is aware that even without all these little mishaps, there is always their blood if he focuses hard enough. But, settling himself back in the hallway, he's also aware of Storm's tiny body in his arms. Her little fist is curled tight atop his shoulder and he can feel her mutation crackling in the air around him. Perhaps she can feel the same metal conductors Erik can, rubbing her lightning gifts the wrong way. Erik soothes a broad hand across the child's back and joggles her with a comforting shush. Storm draws herself closer to him but when he glances to her face, her pouty little mouth is set, and her eyes are hard and alert behind glossy distress and sticky eyelashes. She's scared but her fighting spirit makes Erik swell with pride. He resolves to not damage it with a bloody mess in front of her.
In Charles' lap, a very nervous Kurt keeps teleporting against his will, disappearing and reappearing directly after with a noisy BAMF! Erik sets his teeth.
"Peter," says Charles softly in the gloom less than a second before Peter bursts into their presence.
"My floor's secure, professor. What's the plan?" he whispers, lifting goggles he's clearly had ample time to retrieve.
"Excellent," replies Charles. They should probably talk telepathically at this point, but the intruders will hear Kurt before they hear their whispering anyway. Not that Erik is planning on letting them get that far.
"Peter, take Kurt and Ororo and check on the other floors." Peter shifts his weight, forever restless while still, and smiles crookedly.
"I can take them, professor, but I'll have to go at normal pace. Turns out travelling at super speed makes the little ones sick. I can do a lap and see what's going on though?"
Charles is in the midst of agreeing to moving the children at normal speed when he stops speaking to announce Kitty's arrival just as the girl's head phases through the ceiling overhead.
"Professor, we're all set up here. Just me and Colossus now."
Charles takes a moment to reassess the situation.
"Alright, the plan," he announces, rubbing his palms together in what Erik recognises as nervousness more than readiness. Peter and Kitty's head lean closer trustingly but Erik is aware of 'the plan' before Charles even starts to explain it, thanks to their almost constant telepathic connection, and immediately cuts him off because no.
"Schatz, I think it's best if you go with the children."
Charles puffs up his cheeks and glares at Erik.
"What?"
The children are quietly puzzled as the two older mutants stare each other down. A non verbal argument ensues.
Charles wants to come with Erik to investigate but Erik won't allow it. Charles knows it comes from a place of love but he's annoyed with Erik even so; pride hurt and frustrated with himself. Erik is trying to just keep to the facts because that's what wins him these arguments- Charles can't even use his powers against these people for God's sake! But he knows a seizing fear of seeing Charles hurt is bleeding through the little cracks of his solid logic nonetheless. Neither say anything about it but they both know it's there. Erik wishes desperately it wasn't. He'd never let anything happen.
But what if…
Ultimately, they both know Erik is less likely to back down in these situations.
Charles resigns with a sigh, expression exasperated but understanding.
"Alright, Erik and Peter will take care of whoever is out there. I... will go with the children."
"Roger," says Peter much too loudly as Charles hands him a shivering Kurt who manages to stay present long enough for Peter to lift him over his head and into Kitty's awaiting arms above. She whips up through the ceiling and then swings back through a moment later empty-handed. Erik passes her Storm and then turns to Charles.
The other man still looks cross. Erik smirks.
"You know Peter can take them out before they even see him coming," says Erik, lifting Charles so that he bobs at Erik's height in his chair. Erik's feeling less jittery now that he's secured Storm and Kurt and knows the other children are making their way to their hidey holes. And because Charles has agreed not to come with him.
"Yes, but I know you want to give them a good fright," replies Charles softly, frowning. Erik leans forward to kiss him gently on the cheek and feels Charles clenching his jaw.
"I won't be long, Charles. The danger has passed now that the children are safe. I'll come and get you when-"
Erik feels the nails in a floor board just around the corner groan under pressure and feels Charles' panic spike alongside his own as he reads the intruders' approach from Erik's mind.
"Be safe, and no killing," Charles whispers, because they both know there's no more time to argue. He grips Erik's shoulder tight for a moment before Erik is hastily floating him up to Kitty who puts a hand on Charles wheelchair and drags him up through the floor.
Their eyes follow each other and then Charles is gone and Erik has to take a quick moment to breathe deep and calm his mind.
Charles will be the death of him, he's sure. He loves the man and their flock of mutant children dearly, but the sour jolt of irrational protective panic he just felt, he could do without.
Peter is ready at his side, wrangling his goggles into place and cracking his neck. When his son smiles at him cheerfully, Erik lets his own grin grow on his face. Peter is more than capable of handling this himself, but he's nothing but a breath of wind spiriting the intruders away and dumping them into faraway lakes or at precarious cliff edges. Erik wants them to know what a mistake they've made coming to his school, trying to terrorise his family. He wants them to know that despite all the precautionary measures they've taken, he is still stronger, still superior. He wants them to see the potential of the children in the power of his own mutation so that the school will be safe even when he's not here. Erik is pleased Charles won't be with him to see it. He hopes he will be too preoccupied cuddling littlies and soothing nerves, doing all the things he does best, to watch Erik's mind.
"Give them a scare, shall we?" Snarls Erik with a grin.
Peter looks downright excited.