Not Alone - AU

Chapter Seven

The sound of laughter and hum of conversation greeted him long before he reached the lower levels of the house; the party, it seemed, had grown in the past few minutes, with the number of guests nearly doubling from what he could hear from the stairwell. Buttery light spilled through the dining room and parlor and onto the back lawns - through the large windows, he could see an array of fashionably dressed men and women milling about, his mother's best glassware balanced precariously in their hands and forced smiles on their faces. He didn't have to be present among the guests to know what sort of conversation was passing between them - he'd been to enough of his mother's own parties to know the topics that circulated, each and every one of them a fraction more boring than the last - and he sighed quietly, mentally preparing himself for the next few hours.

It was Raven who found him first, catching him by the elbow before his instincts got the better of him and he returned upstairs to his bedroom. She was dressed beautifully as always; long navy gown with a copious amount of fine embroidery, blonde curls arranged and pinned back neatly. "There you are," she said brightly, smiling and leaning in close to his ear. "Do not even toy with the idea of leaving early, Charles." The words were meant for only him and he couldn't help but smile, albeit a little ruefully, and allow her to slip her arm through his as they descended the stairs together.

"And miss the party?" he said just as quietly as they neared the guests waiting below. "I would not dream of it."

Raven snorted - a rather unladylike gesture, he thought - and hid her smile behind her free hand, though she did manage to dig her elbow into his ribs as a brief act of revenge. "I would hope not." she said, putting on a bright smile for their guests. "The Cassidy's and Summers' have already arrived, and I do believe that all three boys are looking for you. You are required to be their entertainment, it would seem."

"They're welcome company." he said, smiling at one of their elderly neighbors. "I'll have to look for them."

"And don't forget, Charles," Raven said in a way that was teetering on the edge of patronizing, "you are required to dance with a certain Miss MacTaggert twice in a row at some point this evening. Enjoy your reprieve while you can."

She slipped easily out of his arm without another word and smiled at him over her shoulder as she disappeared through the small crowd of guests cluttering their parlor. He shook his head as he watched her go, the top of her head just visible over the others, before he himself turned to leave the house and venture onto the back lawns in search of his friends.

Halfway across the lawns, however, he was intercepted once again - in retrospect, he should have slipped through the crowd instead of striding across clearly open space - this time by his mother, who also had her arm looped through Moira MacTaggert's.

"Charles, there you are." his mother said, smiling brightly at him. "I've been looking all over for you - have you said hello to Moira yet?"

"Miss MacTaggert." Charles bowed easily, an automatic gesture that was almost as much of a habit as breathing. "How do you do?"

"Lovely, thank you." Moira said quietly, blushing scarlet when he took her hand kissed it quickly. "It's wonderful to see you, Mister Xavier."

"The pleasure is all mine." He could feel his mother's eyes boring holes into him as he spoke, ensuring in her own silent way that he say everything he was supposed to. "And please, call me Charles."

Moira smiled and blushed again, murmured a quiet 'if you insist,' while his mother took a step away from them. "You will have to excuse me, I'm afraid; the Salvadore's have just arrived." She left them there, flashing one more brilliant smile as she walked off in the direction of their newest and most exotic neighbors.

As guests began to flood the Xavier mansion, Erik had taken the liberty of relocating himself to the adjacent side of the property. The sun had just gone down, so there wasn't much more he could do in the darkness that shrouded a considerable portion of the backyard. Some guests occupied themselves in the light there was, and by the looks on their faces he could assume they were engaged in rather dull conversations. He didn't quite understand why they continued to return to these parties if they showed no particular interest in being there at all.

Erik could hear the faint chatter of the guests from where he stood, along with some soft music, which only added to the ambiance of the party. It was everything he imagined one of these parties would be (because of his low status in society, he was unworthy to attend such a gathering). For the sake of not tarnishing the families reputation, Erik kept himself as scarce as he could manage, all the while picking up the garden tools he'd made use of throughout the afternoon and tossing them into the nearby wheelbarrow. William had long since disappeared into his tiny shack; leaving Erik to finish what he insisted could wait until morning.

Erik heaved a sigh as he lifted his head to curiously observe the party-goers ambling about the freshly cut lawn; Mrs. Xavier was talking to two different women - one of which she had loosely linked an arm with. She was grinning from ear to ear, looking from the young woman next to her to the one across from her. Seconds later, her gaze averted from her two guests to the small stairs descending from the back door; Charles was slowly striding down the steps, slightly leaning to his left to whisper something in Raven's ear. It was then that she smiled as she departed, leaving Charles alone at the bottom of the short staircase.

Erik swallowed thickly as his stomach turned - more than anything he wanted to walk over and keep him company. He'd wanted to spend more time with the man ever since their rather personal discussion a few days prior. However, given all the work he had to do and how set Mrs. Xavier was on keeping Charles from socializing with the help, it was nearly impossible.

He watched as the young noble warily crossed the lawn, politely nodding his head at whomever he happened to run into, not saying more than a few words before he continued to walk. It was easy to see that Charles wasn't incredibly overjoyed to be at this event, either. Mrs. Xavier, along with the younger brunette, rushed over to meet Charles in the middle of the yard. Erik's chest tightened uncomfortably when Charles leaned over to kiss the top of this woman's hand - who was this? Mrs. Xavier seemed to favor her plenty, judging by how enthusiastic she appeared to be whilst introducing her to her son.

As Erik put two and two together, the blood in his body ran cold. He did his best to try to not jump to conclusions, but his mind was continuously flooded with 'what ifs'. He didn't quite understand why he cared at all about Charles personal life - nor did he understand why he found himself not wanting to watch him with her. With that, Erik turned away from the pair (Mrs. Xavier had gone into the house with the woman she had been conversing with) and then proceeded to push the wheelbarrow over to the side of William's shack.

Dread shook him to the very core as he realized there was nothing left to do but go back to his room - which he would have to cross through the party to get to. He ambled along the edge of the lawn, trying to remain out of the numerous guests line of sight. For the most part, he succeeded, but when he looked over to Charles (even though he promised himself he wouldn't), he found he was looking right back at him over the woman's shoulder. An unreadable expression was currently plastered on his handsome face. He was smiling - however, there was nothing genuine about it. The woman in front of him failed to recognize the fraudulent grin, but for some reason, Erik could see right through his pleasant façade.

Erik took the stone steps two at a time, feeling the holes that Charles piercing eyes practically burned into his backside. A few of the distinguished guests stared as he opened the back door to go into the estate, disgust tugging every muscle in their faces. Over the years, Erik had grown accustomed to such looks, so it was easy to pay them no mind at all.

His eyes slowly scanned the parlor, trying to calculate the simplest route up to his bedroom. Several of the guests glared daggers in his direction, wrinkling their noses at his appearance. Erik's clothes were filthy from working in the garden all day long, his hair was disheveled, and he probably had a smudge or two of dirt on his face. Bowing his head politely, Erik carefully made his way through the crowd, being sure not to get a spec of dirt on any of the nearby guest's gowns or tuxedos - knowing full well that would mean trouble for him - more trouble than he cared to get into at the moment.

"Who's that?" He heard somebody say, but kept walking, getting closer and closer to his destination. This voice, a woman's, managed to make the simplest question sound absurdly offensive.

"Him?" Mrs. Xavier was the next one to speak - her tone filled with utter revulsion. "Charles unfortunately acquired a stray earlier last week."

Erik clenched his jaw at the comment, the furrow between his brows deepening as he reached the bottom of the stairs. When he first was admitted to the residence, he only assumed he was a burden. Now, Mrs. Xavier made it very clear that he was not welcome.

He watched his mother go with the tiniest pang of annoyance; she'd done this on purpose, of course - led Moira over with a harmless smile, baited and hooked him until he was trapped in a corner without anywhere else to run. It would have been impossibly rude of him to excuse himself from Moira's company so early in the evening, especially when she was looking at him so expectantly. He may not have wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he couldn't bring himself to dash her hopes quite so quickly. There would be another moment of confession, surely, somewhere down the line, but it would not occur tonight.

After another long moment of silence, Charles cleared his throat and smiled again, shifting easily into the role he was meant to play. "You look quite lovely tonight, Miss MacTaggert." he said kindly, a line he'd rehearsed many times and with many other promising young ladies. It worked, just as it always had: Moira blushed again and dropped her gaze.

"Thank you, Mis - Charles." she looked up again, letting out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "That's very kind of you to say."

"You're quite welcome."

"My mother would like to invite you over for dinner again." Moira said, obviously scrabbling for a topic of conversation that would be somehow entertaining.

He caught himself before he allowed his expression to falter; another dinner would mean another opportunity for both of their mothers to further their discussion on marriage, and that was the very last thing he wanted. But if the invitation was presented, there was no way his mother would allow him to refuse it.

"Oh," he said quickly, recovering himself. "I will...look forward to it, quite."

It was then that he noticed someone else walking across the lawns; around them, a few of the conversations had quieted considerably, and he couldn't help but notice the sidelong glances that were being cast. Erik was there; his head bent low and his hands clenched in fists at his sides, moving as quickly and discreetly as possible in the direction of the house. Charles kept his face neutral for Moira's sake - she didn't need to turn around, there was no need for him to have her see the young man he'd taken in on the way home from his dinner with her and endure that explanation. She didn't seem to notice, thankfully, and though she was still speaking, he wasn't aware of what exactly she was saying, because Erik chose that moment to look up and meet his gaze.

It lasted only a moment, but it was enough - Charles wanted to go after him, to leave behind Moira and the rest of the party and finally have the conversation that they so desperately needed to have. But Erik was already looking back down, moving through the crowd of exquisitely dressed men and women and looking terribly out of place. He watched him leave, drawing his attention away from his retreating figure only when Moira called his name.

"Charles, are you all right?"

"My apologies." he said quickly, his smile widening. "Would you...care to dance?"

She looked confused for a moment but she smiled, reaching out to loop her arm through the one he offered to her. "I would love to."

He led her back inside, where the dance floor and small orchestra awaited, where he could allow himself to be lost, if not momentarily, in the routine and the movement of his feet and the solid weight of his arm around her waist, and where he could try his very, very best not to think of Erik.

As Erik ascended the grand staircase, Mrs. Xavier's slanderous words repeatedly echoed in his mind. To her, he was merely a stray animal dragged in by her overly-sympathetic son. Until now, Erik managed to turn the other cheek to her scornful behavior. From the very beginning, he knew that she did not approve of him being there, even if he did tend to the grounds - only requiring the slightest bit of hospitality in return.

Erik clenched his jaw as he made it to the top of the stairs, turned a corner, and proceeded down the long corridor to the guest room Charles allotted to him. A couple of the maids quickly stepped out of his path, keeping their mouths shut - for they thought better than to ask him what was wrong. Personally, they did not know much about Erik. He was a man brought in from the street after engaging in a bar fight - there was no telling what he could be capable of.

A short moment later, Erik pushed open the door to 'his' room then slammed it shut behind him. He wasn't concerned that anyone downstairs heard it - the music and loud banter more than likely overpowered the sound that reverberated off the walls. Anger coursed like molten lava through his veins as he mauled over the words over and over again.

"Who's that?"

Erik plopped down onto the edge of the bed and dragged a hand idly through his already mused hair. How could she still think so low of him after all the hours of rigorous labor he put in? How could she find the heart to criticize him - when he had shown no disrespect? In fact, he was more than grateful he had been able to stay, even if he spent his days working on the property until every muscle ached. It was worth it if it meant having a roof over his head. It was worth it because he got to see Charles.

Erik's face fell as the realization dawned on him. Charles, in essence, had made his stay bearable. He didn't see him as often as he may have liked, but it was the occasional glances across the lawn, the smiles from the bedroom window, and the short conversations that kept him grounded all this time. The lingered suspicion that Mrs. Xavier did not appreciate his company did not bother him…until now. Truth be told, he would much rather be on the streets than under her continuous scrutiny.

"Charles unfortunately acquired a stray earlier last week."

Since he had no possessions (his clothes were promptly disposed of, as they were not suitable for any man to wear), leaving would be rather easy. He didn't have to leave any notice. He didn't have to say any goodbyes. He would be able to just walk out the front door and never look back. Even though his luck had been bad thus far, he had high hopes that it would turn around once he went back to the life he was accustomed to.

Once a decision was made, Erik stood up from the bed and advanced towards the door, then briskly making his way back down the hallway. Within a few short moments, the staircase came into view and without a second thought, Erik began to descend them. Several of the partygoers were revolted that he'd actually come back down - without making himself look the slightest bit presentable first (not that he would be permitted to attend the party at all). They shook their heads, and then continued on with their conversations. He was not bound to the estate by any means (even though he felt he was), but he was determined to make his exit as quickly as possible.

Upon walking down the steps, Erik noticed that Charles and Moira were no longer conversing in the backyard, but that they were now in the middle of the dance floor, slowly moving with the music. A huge, almost ridiculous grin was plastered on the woman's face. Charles was smiling as well, but it was merely a fraction of his dance partner's. He also noted that Mrs. Xavier was on the opposite end of the room, watching intently as the two danced in perfect synchronization with one another.

Erik scowled under his breath; another reason not to stay. He didn't think he could take seeing this woman all over him - as she had been all night long. There was no telling what that relationship might turn in to, but Erik could assume where Charles mother wanted it to go.

Erik carefully maneuvered his way through a swarm of party guests, pushed open the heavy front mahogany door, and strode outside. Without taking so much as a glimpse back at the mansion, Erik began to walk the gravel path that led to the entrance gates. For a moment, he wasn't as eager to return to the life that had been much simpler…

And he had one person to blame for that.

Once the music began - a very familiar waltz, the first dance an instructor had taught Raven and himself so many years ago - it was easier for Charles to allow his mind to wander. He found very little enjoyment in dancing when his thoughts were elsewhere; focused not on the smiling woman in his arms but the young man upstairs, the man he still could not figure out for the very life of him. Out of the corner of his eye, Charles watched Erik ascend the grand staircase on his way to the upper floor (no doubt headed straight for the guest bedroom just a few doors down from Charles' own) without a second glance back at the party, his back still rigid and arms tight at his sides. But the music changed, reaching its crescendo, and he was forced to turn so that Erik was out of his sight, and he was lost again among a small sea of gowns and suits.

Moira was still smiling at him a little dreamily, and Charles did his very best to smile back and remain at ease, but the expression felt all wrong on his face - Erik was upstairs and he was alone and he didn't belong here, not in this mansion with its cold empty rooms and even colder people - and he hoped that Moira wouldn't notice. He wanted more than anything to leave, even though he didn't rightfully have an excuse to do so. His absence would be noted and no doubt whispered about - even from across the room, Charles could feel his mother's eyes on his back - and there would be no suitable explanation for his sudden exit, especially if the reason behind it involved the young man he'd brought in from the streets of the city.

Charles began to wonder, not for the first time, just where his sudden fascination (he refused, at this point, to call it anything other than that, even if his mind whispered a dozen other possibilities) stemmed from. In the time the other man had been staying at the mansion, their encounters had been brief and very few in number; aside from the glances and smiles Charles couldn't help but give through corridor and bedroom windows and the handful of excuses he made to cut through the lawns just where Erik happened to be working, he had not yet been given the chance to spend a lengthy amount of time with him. He knew very little about the man, both past and present, but perhaps that was what drew him in - Charles had always been fascinated by the unknown, the prospect of something unforeseen, and he was able to recognize that in Erik.

He and Moira turned again as the music seamlessly changed into something slower, a chance for any tired couples to retreat from the floor. Moments into the change of pace, Charles caught sight of Erik again, still dressed in the same clothes he'd worked in all day. Though their eyes never met, Charles knew that something was wrong - there was fury in his eyes and his jaw was clenched tight as he turned the corner and disappeared again. There was only one place he could have been going - the corridor led to the front doors and the front doors led to the gravel path winding away from the mansion and the gravel path led away, away, away, back to the city and to whatever sort of life Erik led before he found him. And while he held no attachment to the other man, the thought of him leaving so quickly made him nearly sick, and he knew in that moment that he had to stop him. He stumbled through a few of the steps and nearly landed on Moira's feet before he stopped abruptly, dropping his arm from around Moira's waist.

"Charles, whatever is the matter with -," Moira began, alarm causing his voice to rise and her eyes to widen.

"You'll have to excuse me, Miss MacTaggert." Charles said hurriedly, an apology on the tip of his tongue. She had never seen Erik, never seen him leave, so he could have many any sort of excuse. "I - I have to go, I'm terribly sorry, there's something I need to see to, I'll only be a moment."

But he was already drawing away from her, even as she opened her mouth to question him again. He could see his mother step forward, confusion on her face, but he ignored her, because Erik was leaving and he hadn't said goodbye, hadn't said a word and he was stepping as politely as possible around the dancing couples and other guests in his rush to reach the front door. Behind him, he heard Raven's surprised "Charles?", but he ignored her, too, and though he knew there would be hell to pay later, he was out the door and into the night a moment later.

Charles could see Erik already halfway down the path, getting closer and closer to the gates with every passing moment. He quickened his pace, nearly jogging to catch up with him, squinting in the dim light to make out his silhouette.

"Erik!" he called, hoping that the other man would turn around and not ignore him. "Erik!"

-End of Chapter Seven-