Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for your support and for continuing to follow this story. For those who might be nervous this is moving away from Cherik to Charles/Logan - I want to reassure you that's not the case at all. The focus of the story will stay on Max's parents! Hope you enjoy this new chapter.
Chapter 14
"Aunt Raven? Do you...can I tell you something?"
Max wanders into the corner of the library where she's currently seated, flipping through the well worn pages of her favorite book. Her over-stuffed armchair is still in the same spot, right beside the window with a gorgeous, unobstructed view of the stone fountain she loved so much growing up.
She puts the book down and watches the little boy with interest as he drops to the floor in front of her and sighs, looking discouraged and not a little troubled. "Something wrong, sweetheart?"
He looks up at her with those wide, blue eyes and Raven is reminded of fond childhood memories of her and Charles, curled up by the fireplace as he read her story after story of princesses and ogres and happily ever afters.
"I think I might have done something bad."
Raven slips off the chair to join Max on the floor, pulling the boy onto her lap. "Oh? What did you do?"
He blushes, cheeks pink with embarrassment as he explains, "Ororo and I came up with a plan to get Vati and Daddy back together again. We asked Hank to get Vati's help with Cerebro, and we thought that would make Daddy really happy and they would talk to each other and fix things! But then Daddy came down to Cerebro and asked to speak with Vati alone and he didn't look happy at all. I couldn't tell what they said because Daddy blocked most of it but I could feel the feelings and they were both really upset."
She rubs Max's back lightly to reassure him as she answers, "I'm sure they'll be fine. You were just trying to help Erik and Charles work things out." Her mind helpfully supplies a sarcastic "God knows they need it," though she smiles sweetly at her nephew. "Just...try not to worry too much about it and give them some time to sort through their feelings okay?"
Max gives her a dubious glance before training those baby blues on her, looking nervous but determined. "Do you think you could talk to Vati for me? Make sure he's not mad?" And then he tilts his head to the side and smiles ever so sweetly at her. "And maybe you could find out what happened too? And then help me and 'Ro with our plan?"
"Oh I see," she chuckles and leans closer to whisper in his ear, "You want me to be your spy."
He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tight and begs, "Will you help us Aunt Raven? Please?"
Raven looks at the earnest expression on his face and sighs. "Oh alright, I'll go talk to your father and see what I can do."
"Thanks Aunt Raven!" Max kisses her on the cheek before scrambling to his feet, knocking her book off the armrest in his haste. He bends to pick it up and reads the title out loud, "Wuthering Heights? I haven't read this one yet. What's it about?"
"Love," she takes the book from him and they head out of the library together, hand in hand. "And how in life, you don't always get a happy ending."
As it turns out, she doesn't have to go looking for Magneto; he's the one that comes to her.
"We're leaving."
She's sitting on the bed with her book, ready to settle in for the night when he breezes in with barely a knock on the door. The man is radiating tension so palpable that Raven thinks he might be seconds away from spontaneously combusting all over her freshly laundered sheets.
She sighs, "What did you do?"
He stops his pacing abruptly and whips his head around to glare daggers at her. "I didn't do anything."
Another sigh. "Alright, what did Charles do?"
He growls, teeth clenched but doesn't answer, resuming his agitated pacing back and forth in front of her bed. "Magneto." She waits. "Erik!"
"Your brother is being impossible!" His voice is barely audible, tone razor sharp and dangerous. His eyes are tracking an imaginary face, and he's only half speaking to her as continues, "I knew this was never going to work! I can't stay here and be around...ridiculous to think we could work things out..."
She's discovered over the years that the best thing to do with a Magneto on the edge is to not fight him. The less than a handful of times she's witnessed it happen - the rare occasions where his emotions won out over his strict, self-imposed discipline - it had been...ugly. Broken bodies and gutted buildings torn from their foundations.
"If we're going to leave," he narrows his eyes at her as she speaks softly, voice laced with a determined edge, "we should wait until morning to say a proper goodbye. You can't just pick up and go right this instant." She cuts him off before he can interrupt. "You can't do that to Max."
The words are like magic and Raven can see the pent up anger slowly drain out of Erik's body the moment she mentions the little boy's name. He rubs his face and drops down, boneless onto the armchair beside the bed. "Mein Gott...Max. What...I don't know what to do. I...I can't do this..."
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
He looks impossibly tired and defeated, as if he's just come back from one of the Brotherhood's missions gone wrong. "I kissed Charles."
Well that's certainly a huge development, though...how spectacularly bad was the kiss to warrant this kind of response? She waits for him to continue but he just sits there, numbly staring at his hands. "So you kissed him. And...?"
"And he kissed me back. Then he pushed me away and left without a word. And then I found him in his office and he was...ugh! With some idiot redneck neanderthal."
It takes her a moment to decipher his words. "Wait, wait, wait. Charles was in his office...you walked in on him with another guy? Oh my god, who?"
He glares at her again, eyes narrowed and waving his hand impatiently. "I don't know, some thug with sideburns and claws! It's not like we all sat around together and had afternoon tea!"
"Lots of muscles? Dark hair, crazy eyes?" Erik nods briskly at the description and Raven laughs. "His name's Logan. I saw him once out in the field with the X-Men." She whistles appreciatively and tosses her book on the nightstand. "He's smoking hot. Nice job, Charles."
Raven knows – knows she shouldn't rub salt in his wounds but she's made peace long ago with the fact that she's not a particularly nice person. She tilts her head slightly and gives him a sly grin. "Well at least you know he still goes for the same type."
The murderous look she gets from Magneto would have made anyone else fear for their life and it's a testament to their bond that he allows her this light teasing in private. Raven rolls her eyes and crosses her arms when he doesn't stop glaring at her.
"Seriously? It's been eight years since you two were together. Did you really think he was going to wait around for you forever? And I know you've been with other people too so don't be such a hypocrite and stop judging my brother. Not for this."
"It...those others were completely meaningless! I didn't sleep with anyone in the Brotherhood! And I certainly didn't bring any of them home, have them work beside me and let them spend time with my son!"
"And that's your choice. Just like whatever Logan is to Charles is his choice. You and I stopped having any kind of say in his life the moment we walked away from him." She reaches over to take his hand, squeezing it lightly and her tone softens. "I know this is hard for you but we came here for Max, so we can get to know him. Do you really want to just leave like this because you and Charles can't get it together?"
He looks so lost and conflicted that Raven can't help but feel some pangs of sympathy. "No, I don't want to leave Max or Charles." He straightens, taking a deep breath as though he's just made some terrible, important decision. "But we'll have to eventually, won't we? We can't just stay here indefinitely; we have the Brotherhood to run."
"Have you considered running the Brotherhood here? From the mansion? Isn't there some way for you and Charles to compromise and work together? It doesn't have to be one or the other Erik. You do both want the same things."
Erik snorts, "I can't even get Charles to stay in the same room with me when Max isn't around, let alone have a proper discussion about us working together." She rolls her eyes at him as his frown turns decidedly closer to a pout. "He's being so stubborn. He refuses to listen to anything I have to say and he just...dismisses me like I'm one of his precious students."
Raven has wondered, many times over the years, how these two brilliant, charismatic men could inspire such devoted loyalty and fierce respect from their followers, yet be utterly incapable of communicating with one another.
"What are you saying to him exactly? What is he refusing to hear?"
"That I'm sorry for Cuba; for hurting him. That I didn't mean to ignore the letters he wrote about Max." He rubs his face and sighs. "Nothing I say is getting through to him. He doesn't want anything to do with me, Mystique."
It takes a great deal of willpower to overcome the urge to call him an idiot. "Erik, of course he wants you here. Charles has always wanted you; you were the one who chose to leave and strike your own path." She waves away his indignant scowl and continues unfazed, "He's expecting, waiting, for you to walk away again. He doesn't trust that you'll be there for him or Max so why would he open himself up to you? Plus you haven't given him any indication that you want to be here beyond the immediate future."
She watches as Erik digests the words, expression moving from thoughtful to frustrated. "Why didn't he just tell me that? He's never been afraid to say what's on his mind. I don't understand why he's doing it now." He huffs and crosses his arms indignantly. "It's not like I can read his mind. I'm not the telepath here."
"He's not the same man you remember Erik," She gets up and wanders over to the window, leaning against the frame. "Charles is...harder now. Not as easy going or willing to forgive. He's not going to help you figure things out or do everything he can to make you feel welcome and wanted like he did when he first met you. You're going to have to work a lot harder to meet him half way."
"He forgave you pretty quickly didn't he?"
Raven shakes her head, "No, he hasn't, not really. I think we cleared the air when I asked him to read me and I told him why I left, but it hasn't miraculously fixed everything between us." She reaches to take a sip from the cup of tea she's been neglecting. "We have lunch everyday. And we talk about Max and the School and sometimes about our lives before I left. But he never mentions anything about Cuba or you or the Brotherhood and he's ever so polite and distant and it's like he's looking at me through an pane of glass. I don't know if things will ever be okay again between us."
Erik surprises her when he stands and crosses the room next, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder at her words. "Charles...he accused me of seducing you, the night before Cuba. That what I said and did was the reason you followed me." His eyes soften with a hint of sadness, expression tight. "It wasn't my intention to take you away from your brother or to mislead you. And if I did I owe you an apology."
Raven laughs and it's tinged with a touch of bitterness and regret. "You didn't seduce me, Erik. I wanted to leave and you were a convenient excuse. Neither you nor Charles are to blame for my choices, my decisions. Though..." she pokes him in the chest with a long finger, "you could have mentioned something about sleeping with my brother when I showed up in your bed. And you know, maybe not kiss me."
The answer falls a little too quickly and easily from Magneto's lips. "I just wanted you feel appreciated, know how beautiful you are in your true form."
"Bullshit," She's gratified to see the surprised look on his face. "You didn't need to kiss me to do that. You could have patted me on the head and sent me on my way with a few choice words about the color of my skin and not having to hide. So why did you kiss me? When you were obviously in love with Charles?"
Raven half expects him to turn and walk out of the room; Erik has never been one to talk about his feelings or to willingly subject himself or his actions to scrutiny. She waits in silence and watches as he considers his answer.
"That night, Charles and I argued. About Shaw, about the humans." He turns away from her to look out the window, avoiding her eyes. "I was angry. No, not about what Charles said," he answers her unspoken question and continues on, "but I was angry at what he did. What I did." Erik lets out a huff of breath and presses his palms on the windowsill. "Things were simple before I met your brother, Mystique. I had one purpose; to find Shaw and kill him. Charles, he made me question everything. He bulldozed his way into my life, demanding that I join his mad mission to recruit mutants for the CIA. He told me I wasn't alone; made me feel a part of something for the first time since my parents died and I didn't think – didn't know - I could possibly want anything in the world as much as I wanted him."
He starts pacing again, hands tugging at the sleeves of his turtleneck and Raven doesn't think she's ever seen Erik so open, so unguarded. And now that he's started talking, it seems like a dam has broken and all of it – everything he's held back and not allowed himself to acknowledge - comes rushing out all at once.
"I woke up one day and realized that I loved Charles. Loved him. It was ludicrous, I didn't want to love him!" He stops to look directly at her and Raven is genuinely shocked at the words that follow. "Do you know what I learned from that bastard Shaw? That loving someone makes you weak, vulnerable. If you love someone, they can be used against you, taken away from you. We were on our way to confront Shaw and your brother was a distraction I couldn't afford. So I kissed you to prove to myself that I could, that I didn't care..."
"Oh god," she shakes her head and drops down on the bed. "That is so messed up."
Erik grimaces and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. The things I said to you weren't a lie. But Charles..."
"Did you ever tell him? That you loved him? Before we left?"
"Yeah," he hesitates for a moment. "I wanted him to know, to never wonder, if something happened when we confronted Shaw."
It stings, hearing these revelations first hand and it makes the events and the decisions made in Cuba even more baffling. "I honestly don't get it. If you felt this way abut Charles – and I assume the feelings were mutual – why did we leave?" The 'Why did you leave him?' hangs unspoken but almost tangible in the air between them.
"I may love him Raven, but I'm not oblivious to his shortcomings, or my own for that matter." Erik crosses the room and sits in the chair beside her. "He said he knew everything about me, the good and the bad. He deluded himself into thinking he could love and accept me for what I am because he'd seen everything he thought I was capable of. But there's a line that he tells himself that he won't cross, will never cross; he'd never willingly sacrifice a human life to save a mutant one. And I knew there would be a day when I would cross that line and he would send me away." He arches a brow at her and his smile is hard and bitter. "It just happened sooner than either of us expected."
"What about now," Raven sits on the bed across from him, curious to hear the answer to her question. "What do you want Erik? Do you want him back?"
"Wanting Charles has never been the problem."
She rubs her forehead and sighs, then leans back and rests her hands on the bed. "God why do you two have to make everything so complicated?" Shaking her head she jumps in before Erik can respond, "Never mind, don't answer that. Maybe you should be having this conversation with Charles, yes? Just tell him what you told me, that you still love him and you want to try to find some middle ground."
Erik scowls, "What about Logan?"
"What about him? He's the least of your problems." Raven drums her fingers absently on the bed spread. "I don't think there's any hope of you and Charles getting back together until you figure out a way to co-exist, to be parents to Max. You need to work on earning his trust back."
He rolls his eyes at her and barks, "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
She winks at him and smiles, "I think you might be getting some help with that."
"So you want to talk about it, Chuck?"
Logan watches as the Prof. shifts himself from his chair to the bed, sliding himself deftly back under the blankets. He hands Charles a glass of scotch and then swallows what's left of his own drink, the alcohol burning tracks down his throat.
"Really Logan? We're naked in bed and you want to talk?" The Professor chuckles and takes a sip of his scotch, leaning his head back against the pillow. "What do you say we skip the talking and go again."
He's almost tempted to take Charles up on his offer; it's not as though he's particularly interested in hearing about Lensherr. But the Prof. is his friend – one of the few people he actually likes and maybe the only person he trusts – and he finds himself wanting to help. "I got the basics from Sean and Alex at dinner. So you can skip the hows and whys and just tell me what's going on in that big brain of yours."
"Nothing really," And if Logan didn't know the Prof. better he might actually have believed him. "Erik will leave any day now and then things can go back to normal. We'll need to figure out some sort of schedule for visitations of course; I want Max to be able to see him as often as he can, provided it's here at the School where I know it's safe."
He rolls his eyes at Charles' obvious attempt at deflection. "Well that's good for Max but what about you?" He grabs the bottle from the nightstand and refills their glasses. "And don't try and bullshit me Chuck. Something happened between you two today that's got you all hot and bothered. And I didn't need that performance in bed just now to tell me he's getting to you."
Logan watches as the Professor's pale skin flushes a beautiful shade of red. "I'm sorry, it's not...nothing happened...he just kissed me."
"Did you kiss him back?"
"Yes?"
He's glad that the Prof. lets him see this side of him, the man behind all those cardigans and lectures and proper British manners. Charles wears his Professor X persona like a second skin, and few people ever see past the aura of confidence and patience he projects. "Listen, do you want me to talk to him? Explain about you and me? That's it's you know, an arrangement between friends?"
Charles snorts and starts laughing at Logan's offer. "Oh god, I...sorry I just couldn't help imagining Erik's face..." He pitches his voice lower to imitate Logan's drawl. "Listen bub, the Prof. and I, we just fuck sometimes cause it feels good alright? It's no big deal."
Logan grins and throws an arm around Charles' shoulders. "So...I take it that wouldn't help things between the two of you?"
"Look, there's no 'thing' between Erik and I; that was all in the past. The only thing we have to talk about now is Max. What you and I have or don't have is nobody's business. Certainly not his."
He shrugs and nudges the Professor with his elbow. "I think you're kidding yourself if you think there's nothing there. Pretty obvious to me he still as strong opinions about who should or shouldn't have his hands on you Chuck."
Charles sniffs at his drink, taking another sip and doesn't answer.
"Come on Chuck," Logan grabs the hand that's holding Charles' drink, forcing him to look in his eye as he pushes, "You can trust me. I won't tell anyone."
The expression on Charles' face falls and he pulls his hand away from Logan. "I don't know how to deal with it."
"With what?"
The Professor sighs and rubs his temple, "I don't know how not to be angry with what they did Logan. Sometimes when I see Erik and Raven, I...part of me still hates that they left me. That they abandoned us on the beach. Left me to deal with losing my legs and a pregnancy for fuck sakes, by myself. I don't know how I'm supposed to get over it."
Logan grimaces and then reaches to top up the Prof.'s drink. "You got a right to be upset."
"Pfft, I know that. But I teach Max and our students the importance of forgiveness and compassion for others and after all this time I still can't seem to find any for my sister or the father of my son. Doesn't that make me the worst kind of hypocrite?"
"Nah," Logan pats the Prof. on his arm, causing the smaller man to snort in amusement at his awkward attempt to comfort him. "I say it makes you human."
He gets up off the bed and stoops to pick up his shirt off the ground, turning to Charles as he shrugs it over his head. "Maybe you should talk to Lensherr and your sister and tell them what you just said. Seems to me you'll never feel better if you don't deal with it head on." He leans down and drags Charles into a kiss, pulling a moan from the other man's lips. "Let me know if you need me to kick the crap out of him for you."
"Aren't you going to stay the night?"
Logan arches an eyebrow at the Prof. and tilts his head towards the direction of the door. "What about Lensherr?"
"What about him?" Logan doesn't miss the steel behind the light and breezy tone. "I told you I don't care what he thinks."
"Sure Chuck, I'm game." He falls back into bed and pulls the other man close and does not ask out loud why a guy as smart as the Professor bothers lying to himself.
It's always the same.
The sun shines down, relentless, from a cloudless blue sky. The smell of charred metal and leaked fuel permeates the air. He and Charles, together and apart, taking measured steps across the hot sand.
They say the same words to one another; fight the same fight. And the outcome is always the same, no matter how many times the scene unfolds.
The gun fires. Bullets ricochet, deflected from one and embedded in the other.
He wants to scream but he can't find his voice and Charles is falling...falling...
He cradles the body, rolling him over to look into those cerulean blue eyes...
And the face that looks up at him...achingly familiar, but not the same...
He says the words...always hoping, wishing, that the answer will be different, this time, this time...
"I want you by my side...We want the same thing."
A solitary tear rolls down Max's face. "I'm sorry, but we do not."
He jerks awake with a start, soaked in sweat, pulse racing and hands fisted in the bed sheets. The room is dark, only a thin sliver of light bleeding through a crack in the curtains; the rattle of his harsh breathing filling the empty space.
And he hears the unmistakable sounds of soft whimpers and sniffling coming from the foot of his bed.
His eyes adjust to the dim lighting and he can make out the figure of his young son, sitting with legs pulled up, head and arms curled around his knees.
"Max? What's wrong? Are you...why are you crying?" He sits up, reaching forward to pull the little boy into his arms but Max twists out of his reach and jumps away, slowly backing from the bed.
"Vati...," Max is staring at him, a look of disbelief on his face, tears running down his cheeks. "You're the reason Daddy can't use his legs."