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Chapter 10

Now

"What are we going to tell the children?"

They are walking slowly towards home, but Erik's sudden question slows him even more, almost to a standstill.

"I don't know," he admits. "Part of me would rather not say anything until we know for sure what…well…"

Erik nods a bit, frowning, and his arm around Charles's waist tightens minutely. "But you're not sure if that's…right."

"Essentially."

"I wish I knew how to answer that."

"I know," Charles sighs. He shakes his head. "I just don't want them to worry too much until we do know, and certainly if it turns out to be the lesser of two evils and they needn't have worried anyhow."

"Maybe. But you know we won't have to tell Jean. She'll know. She probably already knows."

Charles frowns. "She knows she isn't supposed to intrude—"

"She does it anyway, even if it's not on purpose. And she's so connected to you, Charles; you're her mother. You haven't been able to hide anything from her since she was eight."

He huffs, but he knows Erik is right. And now the house is looming closer—not that it can loom much, as small as it is—and he can feel Jean sense them coming. He can sense, too, how upset she is, and he knows Erik was right in his first assertion, as well.

They won't have to tell Jean. She knows.

They're closer now, and Charles exchanges a glance with his husband, letting him know so before the front door bursts open. At his silent request Erik lets him go, and there is a blur of red hair and freckled skin and then Charles's own arms are full of his oldest daughter, who is taller than he is now.

"Mom!"

It's almost a sob, and Jean's arms are tight around him and the impact left his head ringing in pain but that part doesn't matter right now.

"Oh! Oh, Jean…" He holds her tightly and swallows. "What have I told you?"

"I didn't mean to! But you were both so upset and I couldn't just not—I had to know what was wrong, I—"

"Shh, it's all right. It will be all right."

Or he hopes so. God, he hopes so.

Over Jean's shoulder he sees Ororo in the doorway, Bobby and Kitty peaking around her legs. Ororo looks lost, and the twins are clearly frightened. Erik doesn't need anyone to tell him to go to them. He responds to Kitty's outstretched arms and picks her up, and wraps his other arm around Ororo's shoulders. Bobby clutches at his leg and Erik gently pulls them all back into the house and shuts the door to leave Charles and Jean alone.

"I didn't say anything," Jean mumbles against his shoulder. "I didn't know what you wanted to do…"

"I know. Thank you. Though I suppose it's only right and fair to tell the others the truth now, but for Bobby and Kitty. They're too young to understand…" She's quiet, and he pulls her away just enough that she'll look at him. "Jean?"

She lets go with one hand to swipe at her face stubbornly, making a frustrated sound when more tears slip free, and her thoughts are loud and clear even if she doesn't want them to be. No no no it'll be fine nothing to cry about right now we don't know for sure it'll be fine it will it will Mom will be fine, damnit!

Charles smiles as reassuringly as he can, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her forehead.

He doesn't say it'll be all right again. He shouldn't have said that. Despite her thoughts, she knows he can't promise that. He can feel it—knows it's why the tears are there.

Jean tugs herself close again, hunching to bury her face in his chest the way she hasn't been able to do properly in years, since her growth spurt. Charles just holds her.

I love you, he tells her.

I love you, too, Mom.

Erik brings the other children inside and sits at the table with Kitty in his lap, and once he's sitting down Bobby climbs onto his other knee. Ororo is standing stiffly by the table, arms crossed, looking anxiously toward the closed front door.

"What's going on? Something's wrong; I know something's wrong," she insists. "Jean's been all quiet since this morning and she wouldn't tell me anything, and she completely freaked out about an hour ago. What—"

"Wait until they come inside," Erik says apologetically. He tries to make it as reassuring as he's able, but he's not sure how well he succeeds.

It isn't long, before the door opens again. Jean comes in first and goes to her sister's side, and Charles is already speaking to Erik.

We have to be honest with them. It's the only thing that's fair to them. Besides the twins, they're all quite old enough for the truth, and they deserve it. He certainly does not sound thrilled about it, and neither is Erik, but he's also knows it's true.

You're right.

I'll have to call the others…but Ororo is here, and she's frightened enough already. If you'll take Kitty and Bobby upstairs, I…

I can tell her. You can take them.

Charles pauses by the girls, his eyes narrowing a bit in concern. Are you sure?

He nods a bit. Go on.

And there is relief on Charles's face, though he probably doesn't mean for it to show. He covers it by looking down at the twins, by holding his hands out to them and drawing them from Erik's lap to their feet.

"Mommy?" Kitty asks.

Bobby is just staring.

"It's all right," Charles says. "Lets go upstairs. I'll play with you."

Thank you, Charles thinks, as he follows them up.

It's the least Erik can do. When the others are here later Charles will not be able to hide, and they both know it.

"Dad?" Ororo questions. "What?"

There are only four beds upstairs now, just the ones that are needed. The others have long since been removed to make more room for the twins to play, but Charles can remember a time when there were seven. In the two or three years after Ororo was born, and before Raven and Moira left the house, it was the two of them and the five older children. All seven of them, with barely enough room for the beds in two facing rows and all of the shelves moved to the end of the single large room to make enough space.

It was crowded, the most crowded this house had ever been, but, Charles thinks, those were the best years of his life. The happiest. Except for the last six weeks. In those years there was always someone to take care of, someone to teach, someone to make him laugh. He couldn't turn around without a child underfoot, and though it was annoying at the time he misses it now.

Bobby and Kitty are a blessing, in that regard. Perhaps Jean and Ororo will not be living here for much longer, but it will be another decade before the twins even think about going anywhere.

Charles used to wonder what life would be like after that. When all of the children were grown. Now, he knows, he will have Erik.

If he lives that long.

Bobby asks him why he stopped playing, and Charles shakes his head and smiles. "I'm sorry. Just thinking."

"Bout what?"

Kitty is across the room sifting through her toys, but Bobby is close enough to be grabbed and Charles snatches him playful and pulls the boy into his lap, under the guise of tickling him but really just because he wants him closer.

"About how much I love you."

He has to live that long.

There is pounding on the stairs a moment later, and Charles doesn't have time to look back before there are thin arms around his neck and shoulders from behind. Soft white hair brushes his cheek. Bobby is still in his lap, and Kitty doesn't know what's going on—she doesn't see that Ororo is upset. All the six year old sees when she looks back is a group hug, and she runs to them and joins in enthusiastically, giggling and latching onto her mother and older sister both from one side.

Charles reaches up to close a hand around one of Ororo's, and he knows he isn't going anywhere without a fight.

Twenty-Five Years Ago

It has been a little more than five months since Charles and Raven came here, to this new city. Since they made their home here, with Erik.

Since Charles married Erik.

It still scares him sometimes, this concept of being married. But Erik is kind, as always, if still rather aloof, and that makes it easier not to…well…panic, thinking of the future and worrying over whether or not he'll conceive, whether or not they'll make good parents, all of it.

They've fallen into something of a rhythm. Today, however, it is rather clear that the usual order of things—Erik off to work and Charles and Raven here, cleaning when it's needed; cooking dinner together later so that Charles can continue to learn; together before sleep at night, if it's one of the two or three nights a week they've settle on—is going to be disrupted today. Charles wakes sensing quite a bit of discomfort from Erik, and it isn't hard to pinpoint what it is. He has a fever, is coughing and more, and Charles refuses to allow him to set foot outside the house; the early spring isn't warm enough to risk it, yet.

"You don't want to make it worse, do you?" he questions. He gently pushes Erik back against the pillows when he moves, and he must feel awful because he goes—not quite willingly, but he does lie down again. And he is the first of them to be ill since they were married, so he can't know for certain, but Charles is rather sure that Erik does not seem the type to let something like a horrid cold stop him.

"I'm not supposed to be sick at all," Erik grumbles. "I don't get sick."

"Everyone gets sick at times."

"We're mutants."

"Yes, and we also live on a post-apocalyptic, mostly-irradiated planet. I think 'anything can happen' is a bit of an understatement."

Erik opens his mouth as if to answer, but coughs instead, for a good twenty seconds or so. He grimaces, and rubs at his throat.

"Sore?"

He nods reluctantly.

"All right…well…stay there. Don't get out of bed. I'm sure you've taught me enough by now that I can make soup that is at least edible. Do you need anything else now? Water, perhaps?"

Erik just looks at him for a long moment, as if trying to decide if he's serious.

"What?" Charles asks.

Erik clears his throat a bit, winces again, and says, "Water would be appreciated…"

Charles smiles. "Right." He goes and comes back with a glass, and Erik takes it with a silent nod of thanks. Later in the morning Charles has cooked a pot of soup. By then Erik is worse anyway, despite having stayed in bed to rest, and Charles supposes it will just have to run its course.

He's a bit concerned, though; by now Erik's sneezes are shaking every piece of metal in the house. It frightened Raven enough that he brought Raven down to the Summers's house and asked them to keep her for the day. Perhaps, he hopes, the soup will help.

Erik has managed to sleep on and off—Charles knows because he's kept tabs on him, telepathically, just to know how he's doing—but he's awake now, and Charles bring a bowl of the soup in and perches lightly on the edge of the bed.

"Erik?"

Charles can sense that he is awake, but he curled on his side, facing the other direction at the moment.

"Erik, do you want to try this? The soup is done. As long as it doesn't taste too incredibly awful it may help…"

Erik rolls over sluggishly and pulls himself up to a sitting position against the headboard, and he looks even more awful now than he did this morning, but he raises an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm sure it tastes fine," he drawls tiredly. His voice is rough from coughing.

"How are you feeling? Not any better then?"

Charles holds out the bowl, and Erik takes it and shrugs. He looks as if he's about to pick up the spoon, but then he pauses and just stares at the soup for a moment.

"What is it? Is there something wrong with it?"

Erik shakes his head, not looking up. "No…like I said, I'm sure it's fine."

"Then…what?"

It takes a few more long seconds before he looks up. "You don't have to be doing this, you know."

"Doing what?"

Erik shifts uncomfortably, eyes falling away again, and it's really one of very few times that Charles has seen him seem anything less than confident. "Taking care of me," he says.

"Don't I? 'In sickness and in health,' yes? That was still in there, wasn't it?"

Erik lets out a breath. "I know…we have to be here. There are things we have to do, but…if you don't want to—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't mind at all. And I'm already here anyhow, and if I didn't take care of you, who would?"

Erik shrugs. "I always took care of myself before."

Charles blinks, and then smiles softly. "Then I'm glad I'm here to do it now. I suppose you're due for a bit of care." He stands. "Besides that, I think you would do the same for me."

He goes, leaving Erik in bed with the soup, and a moment later there's a quiet thought in his mind—the first time Erik has ever thought something to him purposely; has ever chosen specifically to use that more intimate form of communication.

It is good. The soup. Thank you.

Charles stops in the kitchen and smiles to himself. You're welcome.

All is quiet for a while, until another thought comes from the bedroom intended for Charles to hear it.

And I would…do the same for you.

I know.

Now

It's late, and Charles contacts everyone and asks them all to come the next afternoon, instead. They still plan to tell the rest of their family the truth, but one night doesn't seem like too much to ask. Erik and Charles are exhausted, and when the twins are asleep and Jean and Ororo have retreated upstairs for the night as well they drop into bed, barely remembering to change clothes.

Charles curls into Erik's arms the way he has every night since that day six weeks ago when everything changed. They don't say anything; they just sleep.

Erik wakes halfway through the night though, startling himself out of a nightmare. His arms tighten instinctively, but just like the morning before there is nothing in them. He sits up quickly, afraid that Charles is in pain again, but though his husband is facing away from him he isn't holding his head.

He isn't asleep, either.

"Charles?"

Charles glances briefly over his shoulder. "I'm all right…just can't stay asleep. You can't, either?"

Erik shakes his head, and shifts over, and Charles pushes back until they meet in the middle and Erik has his arms around his husband again. They stay that way, quiet, for what seems like quite a long time, but with Charles's shoulder under his chin Erik isn't complaining. Charles's back is warm, pressed against him, and it's a reminder that, right now, he's still here.

Charles holds the arms that are around him, fingers absently tracing circles over Erik's skin. It isn't something new. What concerns Erik is when he slowly stops and tightens his hold.

"Charles?" he whispers again.

Charles's voice is thick when he answers.

"Is this what we get?" he asks weakly. "Is this…are we being punished? For being so damned oblivious all of these years? God, and I was worse than you. I—"

"What? No…that's ridiculous." Erik aims a soft kiss under his ear. "If it can't be my fault then you can't make it your fault either."

Charles turns over in his arms and presses close again, and Erik sees the tears now—the ones he held back all day. They aren't easy to see, in the darkness, but he can feel them, too, now, warm and damp as they soak into his thin sleep shirt. Erik holds him, and Charles doesn't make a sound but he's shuddering now.

"Charles, god…Charles…I'm right here," Erik says helplessly. "I'm right here." He doesn't know what else he can say. He doesn't know what he can do but keep Charles as close as he can be without the two of them sharing the same skin.

It takes time before Charles can say anything, and when he can he chokes it out, face still pressed into Erik's chest.

"Erik, I'm—I'm scared," he admits brokenly. "Oh god, I'm so afraid…"

Erik sobs quietly and presses his lips to his husband's hair. "Charles…"

"I-I don't—I don't want to leave. I can't leave. The children—I can't leave. I have to know they'll be happy; I have to—to be here for them. I don't want to leave them. I don't want to leave you. I have to—"

"Shhh…stop it. Don't—don't think like that. You'll be fine." Gently he brings a hand up from holding on to tilt Charles's face up, to look at him.

"You can't promise me that," Charles whispers.

Erik swallows hard and lets out an unsteady breath. "Fine…but I can promise you that I'm not letting you go that easy. I'm going to be here. I'm going to take care of you…" He aches, thinking of Charles not here with him.

"I know you will," Charles answers quietly.

He's still shivering a little, from the aftershocks of the sobs he kept silent. Erik rubs his arms to warm him, hoping it will help with that, too. It seems to, and when he's calmed more Erik dries his cheeks and kisses him. Charles responds eagerly, needy, and after a moment their lips part and Charles smiles a bit. It looks a bit pathetic, with red rings still round his eyes, but it only makes Erik want to pull him closer again.

"You want me," Charles says.

Erik blinks in confusion. "You've known that for weeks."

"I mean right now," he corrects, eyebrow up.

Erik colors a bit, because it's true, because right now he would feel much better if he cold have any even more tangible proof that Charles is still with him.

"I…it doesn't matter. You need rest."

Charles presses up to flutter kisses over his jaw. "It's all right."

"No, I—" But he's arching his neck, wanting Charles's lips, wanting more. Part of him needs this so badly. Right now. After the day they had, after the news they had, he needs something to be good. He needs Charles. He felt it before they slept, but he wasn't selfish enough to ask.

"It's not selfish," Charles murmurs. "It's all right. You can have what you want..."

"But..."

Charles is nuzzling his ear now, his neck so close. Erik gives in to kissing his husband's throat, at least, and up to his cheek and then he claims his mouth again.

"Are you sure about this?" Erik asks breathlessly. "I mean, now? I don't want to be—"

"Taking advantage? You aren't. It isn't only you…I think we're rather of the same mind at the moment." I need you. "I" need to know I'm here.

Erik groans at the thought sent to him, at what Charles is telling him, and pulls Charles closer until their bodies crush together and he gasps. There isn't any denying anymore that they both want this now, and Charles makes a low needy sound until Erik rocks against him again and kisses him.

It's several minutes until they realize that they're near to having it over with, just like that, and Charles puts a stop to it with a sharp thought and sudden inches of distance. No, Erik I NEED you. And he rolls back and tugs Erik on top of him.