Tags/Warnings: Mpreg, Canon Divergence, Child-Parent relationship, Charles-centric, Alcoholism/Drug Abuse, past Child Abuse/Neglect, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Dialogue Light/Inner Dialogue heavy, Period-Typical Attitudes
AN: This fic is partly an excuse for me to mention all of Erik's numerous children and focus on those relationships, but also after watching DOFP recently, I have discovered how much I actually love Angry & Bitter!Charles. I have also recently let go of my vehement hatred of Mpreg, so I figured why not combine them. Fair warning, this is a dialogue light fic. Erik and Charles' relationship, while permeating the entire fic and the overall mood that Charles thinks in, I don't get into the nitty-gritty of rebuilding that relationship until chapter four. I wanted to put Charles as a character before Cherik as a relationship, but fear not, if you stick around, we'll get into it.
The first chapter has a bit of a vignette style as we go through the ten years between XMFC and DOFP. I try to keep it as close to canon as possible though.
Chapter Summary: Charles learns that Erik didn't leave him alone on that beach, but the new addition to his life doesn't stop his demons from haunting him.
Chapter 1: 1962 - 1973
When Hank first tells him, Charles gives it just as much credence as he believes it deserves at the time, which is none.
It's obvious that Hank has made a mistake. Some tests had come back with anomalous results and Hank, being a man with a curious mind, jumped to ridiculous conclusions. It is ridiculous and Charles is concerned that Hank can't see that for himself. Charles has spent his entire life secure in the simple and constant fact that he is a male individual and being such, one thing that is definitely not in the cards for him is pregnancy. He has never been crazy enough to want it to be any different, but Hank, wonderful, inquisitive and silly Hank, who turned himself blue trying to get rid of his oversized feet, would be the only person in the world to suggest that something that impossible is possible.
Charles doesn't do what he wants to, which is laugh in Hank's face. He feels a slight surge of guilt. Hank has been overworking himself trying to hold the house together after… after. He has been taking care of Charles as he's adjusted to his newfound paralysis and trying to cure himself of his new blue visage and helping keep a lid on Alex and Sean. When Charles started to feel ill, he didn't initially want to burden Hank with that as well, but it became impossible to hide it when he rolled his infernal wheelchair into the kitchen one day, took one whiff of the eggs Sean was making, and promptly vomited into his own lap.
Surely, that would be a gratifying memory for years to come.
Hank ordered tests and Charles was ready to hear any number of things. He largely attributed it to his spine injury, but here Hank is, telling him he is pregnant.
Instead of laughing, Charles gives him a look, asks him to run the tests again, tells him to come to him when he has a reasonable result, and rolls back to the elevator so he can get intimately acquainted with his bed (and the bottle of whiskey that now has a permanent spot on his nightstand).
Hank spends the next two weeks trying fruitlessly to convince Charles that he is pregnant. Charles persists in his valid disbelief and would've kept on going that way too. He didn't much care why he was ill, to be honest. What he wants is to stay in bed with a liquor bottle close so he can drown his sorrows. It's funny, he never quite appreciated his mother's habits until now. If they've done nothing else, his useless legs, erstwhile lover and absent sister have allowed him to understand Sharon more than he ever did when she was alive.
Charles does not concede to Hank until the baby makes himself known. It is small at first, a nagging in the back of Charles' head that he can't place. It's so faint and formless he doesn't quite believe it exists, but it grows louder and louder every day, a wordless presence that is so bright, the splendor of it is cloying, almost painfully so, overwhelming him with the constancy of the unmitigated warmth. The presence is inside him, not outside, not in the faint distance, it's part of him no matter how much he wishes to reject it.
And so, he throws his whiskey bottle in the trash and wheels himself to Hank's lab with all the trepidation of a man going to face his own execution.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
None of the boys ask who the other father is (that is once they realize that Charles is not the Virgin Mary reincarnated and so there must be another father). He can hear them wondering about it and about him. Alex's jail history in particular gives him pause about Charles' sexual orientation, but the boys' discomfort seems to be tempered somewhat with pity over his current health predicaments (and Hank's pleas that Charles is simply mentally ill and can't control that he is wrong in that way). He would be angry about it if it wasn't better than the alternatives: being reviled for his sexual preferences and his biological anomalies, or abandoned thanks to his apparent shortcomings... again. But despite any negative feelings, the boys stay and they don't ask questions.
Charles is grateful that he doesn't have to say it out loud, any of it. No one knew about him and Erik, not even Raven. It was for necessities' sake before but now he is glad he doesn't have to bare the full weight of the boys' pitying looks for that as well. Besides, he's not quite sure what it would do to him to hear the truth outside of the confines of his own mind.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
David has Erik's eyes. It's one of the first things Charles notices about his son as he holds him. David's heterochromia has given him one grey eye and one green eye, but somehow, they both look like Erik's.
The pregnancy had not been pleasant. Secondary mutation or not, he is still a man and a paralyzed one at that. His healing back had felt like it was collapsing under the new weight inside him and there was nothing he could do because alcohol was out of the question and any strong painkillers would hurt the baby. On top of that, he had spent weeks on bedrest, oscillating between debilitating illness that saw him constantly with his head in a bucket and raw pain wracking his body, or being unable to hold consciousness for more than four hours, sleeping his days away.
He's been thinking about his parents more and more with his pregnancy. He's certain they wouldn't have been thrilled about it. A telepath for a son is one thing, but a freak against the most basic law of biology and a fairy at that? Distasteful would be an understatement. And Kurt? He would have a field day, and that was saying nothing of Cain. Even Raven would probably be freaked out about his pregnancy at the very least.
Maybe it's better she didn't stay. He doesn't think he could take hearing just how disgusted she was by him. He's gotten it enough hearing Alex's thoughts. His pity and guilt mixed with disturbance and abhorrence of Charles and what he is and what he's done is headache inducing. He thinks it puts his body in fits just as much as the pregnancy does. Sean is much less venomous about it. He has a very large family with a queer uncle or two. He is more exposed to homosexuality and thus not as afraid of it or hateful or judgmental. Sean's hang-ups come more from Charles choosing Erik of all people. Sean never quite understood the older man. His extroverted personality clashed with the misanthropic, quietly menacing persona of his former tutor and he couldn't picture Charles, optimistic, people-loving Charles, choosing Erik and not realizing they were bound to crash and burn. Hank's interest in the pregnancy and Charles veers decidedly scientific. It makes Charles feel like an experiment and he gets bad flashbacks of Kurt forcing him into the bunker, putting him and Cain through stress tests and whatever else he deemed appropriate at the time.
In light of this, it's Sean who has been providing the most moral support. He's fluffed his pillows, cleaned his vomit, rubbed his feet, massaged his back. He makes sure Charles eats and showers and talks to him to distract him from the pain since conversations with Alex has become stilted and Hank only wants to record every facet of the pregnancy for posterity. It's Sean who asks about Charles' childhood and makes him think of his parents and what they taught him about being a parent.
Not much. He didn't know them well. His father worked a lot and died when Charles was young, and his mother had been an alcoholic for as long as he could remember. But there are times, brief moments when Charles is wondering if he will be a good parent, that he remembers his father rubbing his aching temples with patient fingers to soothe away his telepathy-induced migraines or his mother gifting him with rare smiles of grief-tinged fondness at one of Charles' academic accomplishments and he wonders what he truly ever knew about his own parents. Probably as much as he thought he knew about Erik and Raven and he had been wrong about them too, otherwise they wouldn't have left him here alone.
Well, not entirely.
He cradles David in his arms tightly, his impossible boy. This child who, while he gestated inside of him, Charles had vacillated between being nonplussed and repelled at his existence and conflicted over having irrefutable proof that, once upon a time, Charles and Erik were in love and they were happy and hopeful. Or at least Charles was. He can't remember now what impressions he got from Erik about their relationship. Maybe Erik was just using him the whole time as a convenient ally to have against Sebastian Shaw, a telepath who could literally shut his greatest enemy down so Erik could shove a coin through Shaw's, and consequently Charles', head.
But that doesn't matter. David has nothing to do with that Charles realizes as he stares down at him, brushing his fingers over the light dusting of dark brown hair. David is innocent, so very small and fragile and trusting. His life is literally in Charles' hands. That is scarier to him than anything he ever has or ever will face. He could break this poor little thing so easily without any intention of doing so. And yet, he can't fathom sending him away to an orphanage or finding some lonely, kind couple to raise him like Hank suggested because David is his and he is Erik's. Charles fell in love with him the second he saw his innocent, familiar green-grey eyes.
"I won't leave you, my darling boy. I will never leave you," Charles tells him.
He doesn't know if that's a promise he should make. Who says his son needs a depressed cripple weighing him down? But Charles is all he has, so he'll try to be enough.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
He considers telling Erik about David.
Erik is a hard man to find nowadays. He has Shaw's helmet and Emma, who shields his group, and Azazel, who keeps them moving. It would take extended hours in Cerebro and days of migraines after, which would lead to Charles projecting his misery throughout the mansion. Not the best thing to do when there was an infant there whose mind was still shaping itself. Charles casting anything untoward in the baby's head could threaten that development, and any threat to David, including ones coming from Charles, cannot be taken lightly. Finding Erik with Cerebro might not even work. It doesn't seem worth the effort.
David isn't alone. He has Charles. Despite his reservations during the pregnancy, every day that he wakes up and sees his son peering up at him with trusting eyes, feels the uncomplicated impressions of infantile love directed at him, is another day he can't find it within himself to regret anything that happened. It's led him to having David, having a love in his life unlike anything he ever imagined could be possible. David also has Hank, Sean and Alex. Any misgivings or aversion to Charles and Erik's relationship does not seem to have transferred to David. The boys adore him, would spend all day entertaining him, or cooing over him, or generally spoiling him if Charles let them. David has no lack of care or love or attention. He also has Erik's last name as well as Charles'. One day David might ask about that, and what will Charles say?
"Oh, that? Well, I just didn't feel like dealing with your father's BS, so I never got to telling him about you."
He's sure that'll go over well. There is also the tiny fact that Erik is becoming known as an international terrorist. Inviting him back to the mansion where his child lives feels counterintuitive to keeping him safe. Who knows what trouble Erik will bring back with him threatening the lives of everyone at the manor?
All that is separate from the matter of whether Erik would be a good father. Charles doesn't really have a doubt about that. Erik didn't like to talk about his past very much, especially that hazy time between when he escaped Auschwitz and met Charles, but there were small moments after Charles opened up to him about his abusive childhood that Erik would impress his memories of little Anya into Charles' head. He saw instances where Erik would read to her, sing her lullabies, use his powers to entertain her, or just carry her around with him all over like his little accessory. The love he had for his daughter was undeniable through the memories, as was the grief he felt at her death.
Charles doesn't know if he can handle the guilt he knows he'll feel about keeping Erik's child from him when he has already lost one, but he still feels all his reasons to do so are valid. Erik is reckless. He has become consumed by his rage and his need to exact vengeance for all the pain he's experienced in his life. Charles can understand to some extent, in the way he's always been able to understand Erik, but it doesn't mean he isn't a clear and present danger. The man he was with Anya and Magda is different than the man he will be with David and Charles. Erik was settled down, living a life of domesticity and obscurity with his wife and child because that was what he wanted then. Charles doesn't see Erik abandoning his goals for world domination or whatever it is his crusade is meant to accomplish for anything in the world. He certainly had no problem leaving Charles behind, he doesn't think he can take it if he has to watch Erik turn his back on David too.
Beyond that, Charles doesn't think he can invite Erik here if it means he'll lose Hank, Sean and Alex. No, he and Alex are not as close as they were before the pregnancy, but the boys still trust him. They still see Charles as some guiding star, someone who has the answers for what their lives as mutants can and should be. He could disabuse them of that notion, but it keeps them here with him just as much as any sense of loyalty does. He doubts they would be able to reconcile their biases when it comes to Erik as successfully as they have with Charles and David. He doesn't want things to come to a fight, not in the mansion. Charles has already begun making plans for his former home, to transform it from just the site of painful childhood memories into a haven for mutantkind. Between him and the boys, they can achieve it. That is a sure thing. Erik is not.
David is four months old when Erik is arrested for the assassination of the President of the United States. Charles is so relieved to have the choice taken out of his hands that he doesn't bother to confirm whether it's true or not. The bullet curved. All four of them agree that Erik must be involved somehow. That is evidence enough to convince him not to willingly put himself and his son in the line of fire with that man again. David doesn't deserve to be an innocent bystander in Erik's battles. Charles will never let that happen to him again.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
He decides to open the school sooner rather than later. He needs to move on and live his life without worrying over Erik or Raven. He has no other choice.
He gathers students. Bright children with brighter gifts who are so frightened of themselves and the world. It makes Charles' chest ache that they look to him for guidance, mess that he is, and they seem to find it. Their parents and loved ones think him a savior, a lifeline in the middle of the sea. These children depend on him almost as much as David does.
David, who Charles took one look at when he was born and knew he would be a mutant and so he isn't too surprised when one night, David's mind latches onto his with such intensity that it very nearly causes Charles to be locked out of his own head completely. He manages to wrestle control of himself back and tries to make David understand, as much as a two-year-old can understand, what appropriate cerebral contact looks like. He has to place mental shields on everyone in the manor after several mishaps where David unwittingly crashes into the brains of students like a wrecking ball and then panics once he's there, almost ripping their minds to shreds in his desperate attempt to escape the confines of a head that isn't his.
Charles must lock him in the bunker for two weeks while he tries to get a handle on David's telepathy. The efforts leave him drained, but it's for his son, so he persists in trying to hammer techniques into his little brain. Eventually, he decides it won't take. David is too young to grasp the concepts Charles needs him to. He can hardly string a grammatically correct sentence together, how can Charles explain the concepts of shielding and projecting amongst other essentials to him? He locks his ability away deep inside him until they both can handle it.
Charles can hear insidious thoughts in his ear, a voice accusing him of being arrogant, of playing God, of turning his back on his fellow mutants, being a weak coward who would force yet another family member to hide. The voice sounds disconcertingly like Raven. Charles feels shame beyond equivalence.
The night he locks David's powers away is the first night he picks up a whiskey bottle since he realized he was pregnant. The brown liquor slithers down his throat with the warm embrace of an old friend.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
The school only lasts two more years after that. They never quite recover from the scandal caused by the encounters between David and the students. It startles the parents enough that many pull their children from the school, even though Charles was able to set those affected back to rights. It hurts, but he understands.
Then the draft for the Vietnam War starts.
Sean is drafted. Alex is too, along with several of the older students. Two of the teachers Charles hired, one human and the other mutant, are drafted and the two men run off to Canada together. He can't blame them, but a school isn't much of a school without students and teachers.
Sean is terrified of the prospect of going to war and Charles can't bring himself to reassure him. He's never seen a battlefield personally, but Erik's memories of it are present in his mind, so Charles thinks he ought to exercise restraint for once and keep his mouth shut. Alex is strangely silent about it all, only saying,
"Hey, it's not the first time we've seen battle, is it?"
He says it flatly, but Charles hears an accusation in it. Maybe he was just fishing for it, or it's the arrogance Raven always accused him of raising its ugly head. It makes his fingers itch to wrap around the neck of a bottle.
"Why do they have to leave?" David asks him later when Sean and Alex are packing.
"Because men with more power than us say they must," Charles says with a bitterness he doesn't attempt to hide, because he's never lied to David (at least not explicitly, he doesn't count lies of omission).
"But you're powerful, Papa,"
"Not that kind of power."
The four-year-old doesn't ask him to clarify, and Charles is grateful.
The little boy steps closer to his wheelchair and wrinkles his nose just the slightest. He wonders if his son can smell the liquor wafting off him. He had dreamt of his first time with Erik last night, their desperate bodies grinding against one another in a motel room. Charles had woken up to a gunshot ringing in his ears and yet he had felt almost aroused, which was saying something considering how much work it takes to get him going nowadays. Another thing Erik took from him. He needed a full bottle to chase the memory away.
He clutches David close in his lap when Sean and Alex drive away and hopes he's not squeezing too tightly, but he doesn't ask if he is and doesn't loosen his hold either.
He shuts the school down not long after that.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
When Sean dies, Charles doesn't go to the funeral.
He can't sit in front of Sean's extensive family who are all grieving and stare at the empty casket and believe that there was nothing he could've done, because that's not true. He could've had Sean and Alex and the other draftees stay, and when the police or army officials came looking, he could've used his powers to make them leave. But he didn't and he couldn't for the life of him think of why. If he goes to that funeral, Sean's parents will look at him and they will accuse him of playing a part in their son's death. They will be right. So, he stays in bed and gets wasted and sobs into the same pillows Sean fluffed for him when he didn't have to, remembers how Sean cared for him and remained a stalwart friend even when Hank and Alex drifted. This is how Charles has repaid him. He cries until his throat feels like it's been rubbed raw.
Time slips by strangely in his drunken haze. The alcohol throws Charles' telepathy out of whack, makes it unbalanced and fuzzy. He thinks of it akin to a person with tinnitus. Sometimes his power rings through his head with perfect clarity, sometimes it's too loud and other times too soft. It gives him a headache. He drinks more to try to ignore it.
At one point when he wakes up, David is curled up in bed with him, tears staining his cheeks as he stares into the distance. David is thinking about Sean who acted more like a fun-loving big brother than a disciplinarian to him. Sean let David get away with all kinds of things, led him into mischief, had been his biggest comfort over the years. Now Sean is a bloating corpse in a foreign jungle. Suddenly, Charles is extremely glad David doesn't have his telepathy. The poor boy would probably be in convulsions just from Charles' maudlin thoughts and emotions alone, saying nothing of Hank's.
Charles wipes his son's face and holds him close, lets him cry into his chest. He thinks it's the first time he's hugged him since Sean and Alex left a year before, but he can't remember for sure.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
Hank says the serum will let him walk again, says he'll be able to keep up with David now and do all the things he's been missing. The younger man is so desperate to make Charles feel better. He's noticed the constant smell of liquor over the past years, has noticed Charles drifting away from him and David, retreating into himself. David is six and doesn't understand what's happening, but Hank does. His pitying thoughts towards Charles is almost worse than David's confusion.
Charles wishes he was stronger, that he could be better for David, but he wasn't a whole person when he had him in the first place. Most days he's surprised he is capable of love at all. Because he does, he loves his son with all that's in him. It is because he loves him that he cannot do what would probably be best and leave him in the care of someone better adjusted than him.
He gets a crazy thought of finding Moira and planting the idea of David in her head. She would love him, mutant or not, and David would have a mother, which would be infinitely better than the two fathers he has: one a cripple carrying on the family legacy of alcoholism and the other a terrorist imprisoned for killing the beacon of what could've been a time of peace and prosperity in this country.
Unexpectedly, he remembers what Erik told him their last night together.
Peace was never an option.
He suddenly wants to smash his liquor bottle in that devastating man's face. He thinks it would make him feel a lot better.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
David hates him or is, at the very least, embarrassed of him. And why wouldn't he be?
Charles can hear the thoughts of the parents and children when he picks David up from school (because he's always too drunk or high, too unfocused to teach him at home and Hank hasn't the time). They think he's a drug addict or an alcoholic, which, top marks, right on both of those. They think he's a hippie, which he supposes Erik would've said he was, or a naïve pacifist if nothing else. They think he's a bad influence on his son, and they would be correct.
He caught David sniffing a liquor bottle a few weeks ago, cringing from the taste of the amber liquid on his tongue. Charles had snatched it from the eight-year-old and shouted at him until it hurt. By the time Hank emerged from the lab and stopped Charles' tirade, his voice was hoarse, and David was crying quietly across from him. Hank's disappointment was not new, but the wounded look David gave him before running to his room was.
It made him think of Kurt and all the times he terrified Charles. Just the idea that Charles was anything like his wretched, abusive stepfather had driven him to drink until he could feel better about the mild fear his son had of him. He passed out before he ever reached that feeling.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
Though Charles hasn't restored David's powers, he has made sure to hone his son's shielding skills, and so rarely does anything he doesn't want Charles to hear slip through, but sometimes Charles can hear David missing him, the old Charles. He knows that means he's horrible now because he wasn't so great from the very beginning. Even as an infant, Hank, Sean and Alex picked up more slack than Charles was willing to admit. Sometimes, he can hear David wondering if Charles loves him or even knows anything about him at all and it hurts.
David is such a sweet boy, the best child one could ask for. He is wicked smart and empathetic. He loves helping others and has a sense of deep sympathy for broken things. There isn't a stray in the world that David wouldn't want to adopt. Beyond that, David is so forgiving and eager to please. Charles knows it's partly a product of his neglect. David tries to stay out of his way, cleans up after himself and does things he thinks will make Charles smile. He learned the entirety of Dr. King's "I Have A Dream" speech so he could show it off to Charles in hopes of approval. He taught himself to play "Claire De Lune" on the piano to impress him. He gets Charles thoughtful gifts every birthday and Father's Day. Sometimes he curls up in bed with him unbidden on Charles' worst days and doesn't ever complain when he holds him too tightly, or drunkenly rambles about how shit he is, how shit life is, and what a mistake falling in love is and how David is the only good thing in the world. He figures the way he slurs his speech and the venom with which he spews everything before that affirming statement takes away any positive effect it could hope to have.
Despite the disappointment pervading the boy's thoughts, he never vocalizes it because he loves Charles. He forgives Charles almost immediately when he shouts at him or forgets some school event or sleeps through his birthday because he loves him. He defends Charles to his friends at school and to Hank, excuses almost everything he does, because he loves Charles so much. The saccharine sentiments he can glean from David's thoughts are almost sickly sweet in its overpowering nature. Charles shies away from it, from David, because he doesn't deserve his love or forgiveness. He should probably just talk to his son about it, make sure he knows none of this is his fault, but he fears he'll say the wrong thing, so he doesn't.
This is all Erik's fault, he thinks not for the first time.
It's been festering in him for years, this hatred and anger he has for Erik now, a great big ball of venom that has no outlet to be released upon.
Erik left him on a beach in fucking Cuba with two hostile navies on one side and a hostile Communist regime on the other, bleeding out and paralyzed from a bullet Erik put in his back after Charles had allowed himself to be party to murder and feel a man die in his head. To add insult to injury, Erik took his sister, the person Charles has spent the longest time loving and protecting, and left Charles with a child so he could go play at being an activist when he was really nothing more than a fucking terrorist and now he's in prison. Raven is nowhere to be found and Sean is dead, and Alex is gone and so is the school. If Charles thinks hard enough, that can be Erik's fault too.
If he were in the mood to be fair, he'd remember that he told Raven to leave and implied Erik should too. But then, when has Erik ever done anything just because someone told him to, much less Charles? If he wanted to stay, he would've stayed. If he cared about Charles, or knew him at all, he would've realized that Charles wasn't thinking straight on account of the coin Erik shoved through his head, the bullet Erik lodged in his back and the ugly fucking helmet Erik was wearing tearing into the psionic scars in Charles' head from the coin. Charles was in pain. He needed time to breathe and think, and he couldn't with Erik there, so he needed him gone. Only for a moment though, a couple of minutes, a day at the most, not forever. Erik should've known that. Charles would've known. So, fuck fairness.
It eats away at him, eats out the good and leaves only the rot so Charles has nothing to offer anyone else, much less David. Then he thinks of how bright David is and he hates himself for not giving him his best efforts, so he drinks. He thinks of his relationship with Erik and wonders how it could've been as wrong and hateful as Charles has made it out to be if they could create David. He wonders about the good that he saw in Erik and that conflicts with how much loathing he feels for him now, and he has to drink more. He thinks of Raven and how he failed her, his mother's benign neglect, his father's untimely death, Kurt's hard fists, Cain's harsh words, Sean's body not laid to rest properly, and Darwin suffering the same fate before him.
He thinks of all the small and large rejections that he thought he buried and forgot about but resurface with extreme prejudice now: that ex-girlfriend that cheated on him, that ex-boyfriend who thought Charles was too desperate and clingy, that ex-professor who touched him too intimately, all those people who harshly rebuffed him because of his telepathy or his sexual proclivities and he has to drink.
Added to that is all the guilt, despair and heartache of those around him thinking about the husband or brother or cousin who is deployed and hasn't written in weeks, the bill that needs paying, the child they desperately want, the wife who is pulling away, the boyfriend who is cheating, the landlord who is swindling them, the sibling that hates them, the neighbor that hurts them and the parent who doesn't love them and it is too much.
The woes of the world weigh on his soul and his mind. Everyone around him is desperate to be saved and growing more and more desperate and hopeless the longer the war drags on. Charles is forced to listen to their cries on a loop, feeling himself be dragged down into a pit of all their despair, fear and grief. There is no relief. Even in sleep, the voices haunt him, seeping into every part of his being. And when it isn't the terror from outside, he jumps awake from the sound of a gunshot ringing in his ears or, just as equally painful, some loving word or declaration from a time long since passed. So, he has to drink, or he will go insane.
He remembers days spent wishing his mother would break out of her drunken haze and notice him, love him, reassure him, parent him, to no avail. He's doing the same to David and he hates himself for it, so he takes more of the serum, and wonder of all wonders, the voices go away, and the nightmares do too. He can't hear the stream of David's disappointment or Hank's pity or the PTA committee's judgement. The sorrow and grief of the world around him is no longer compounding with his own. It's blissful silence, with nothing but his own drunk-addled thoughts bouncing around his head.
For the first time in years, he smiles.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
On David's tenth birthday, he returns his powers to him, partly out of guilt and partly because he was too high and exhausted to go get him anything else. David's telepathy comes back with a vengeance. It lashes out like a greedy thing, captures Charles' mind and won't let go, delves so deep that he is brought to his knees as he's forced to relive every painful memory he has. He's pretty sure he passes out from the ferocity of it.
When he wakes up, David is at his side, tear tracks on his face and a look that tells Charles that he knows everything. Every deep, dark secret or desire he's ever had, David knows it all. He wonders if Erik had felt this deeply uncomfortable about having Charles use his telepathy to know so much about him before they said a word to each other. All the things you wished to hide were laid bare for judgement and there was nothing you could do.
David moves closer and stares at Charles. He stares back.
"I understand now," David whispers as if to speak louder would shatter some invisible barrier between them that he's not certain Charles wants broken.
He never wanted there to be a wall between him and his son, but there are ghosts lingering and words unsaid, and he has Erik's eyes. Charles must look away. David makes a small noise that reminds Charles that he can hear him now, see him now all too clearly. It's terrifying. David inches closer to him before speaking again.
"You loved him," he states plainly.
Charles nods wordlessly.
"Do you still love him?"
Charles hesitates and nods again.
"But you hate him too."
He doesn't hesitate this time.
"He did this. He's why everything is the way it is."
Charles shakes his head now, because even though he hates Erik with just as much fervor as he loves him, he doesn't think he can stand the idea of David hating him.
"The way things are is my fault. He isn't here, I am. I'm…" Charles trails off in a bitter laugh.
"I wish I was stronger for you, my dear boy. You deserve better than me. So much more than me."
David doesn't respond. He grabs his father's hand and squeezes it.
Charles tries not to cry in front of his son. It's embarrassing enough that David's seen into his mind, and who knows what all he saw there. What shameful things does he now know that'll make his weak, druggie, alcoholic father even more of a pariah? But David doesn't say anything. He falls asleep across Charles' lap still holding his hand and once he's sure he's sleeping, only then does Charles allow the tears to fall.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
He knows that David needs help to control his telepathy (and his telekinesis and other psionic abilities) and he can't be it. It would take a while before he'd be clean and in control of his abilities enough to help and in that time, David could scramble, dismantle or fry the brains of anyone in a 20-mile radius. He isn't keen on locking his son in the bunker again until he can get his shit together either.
That's how he meets Elizabeth Braddock. Her abilities are close enough to David's for her to be the perfect teacher for him. She is obviously surprised to see how low the young Harvard graduate has fallen. He is far removed from the promising professor and geneticist he once was. She doesn't comment too much on his poor appearance other than saying he is hobo chic. He doesn't feel much the latter, but the former is accurate. He let himself go. He's lost a concerning amount of weight. His grown-out hair would be stylish if he ever washed and combed it properly and his beard is a product of the same neglect, not a conscious fashion choice. He usually grabs the first thing his hands touch in the morning, not caring what he wears. He doesn't leave the house for anything other than dropping David off at school and picking him up anyway, so what does it matter?
David is elated at having someone new in the house. He and Betsy become thick as thieves quickly and Charles wonders again if he made a mistake not giving David to some lovely, accepting heterosexual couple who could've raised him normally. Heaven knows David has been lacking in female role models. Male ones as well, to be honest. Hank does his best though.
It puts a smile on Charles' face to see how excited David is by his new teacher and everything she shows him, how accomplished he looks whenever he gains some measure of control and how genuinely he desires to share it all with Charles. So, Charles drags himself from bed and watches David from the patio. He is present and smiles at all the right times and doesn't bring a liquor bottle with him. He feels the glow of David's approval, and hopes the charade is enough to give his son even a glimmer of the affection and attention he deserves.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
It all feels like a bad acid trip, Logan showing up and claiming to be from the future and his whole spiel about stopping Raven and breaking Erik out of jail. To accompany him, Charles will have to leave David behind with Betsy, a woman he respects but doesn't know all that well after only five months, so he can break his ex-lover and the father of his child out of an underground prison in the Pentagon with the help of his best friend, an indestructible time traveler and some teenager with undisclosed powers. A prison that's kept him contained for ten years. He feels like an idiot, but he's resolved to go anyway, because even though every fiber in his being is crowing about how much he hates Erik and everything he stands for, his traitorous heart thuds hopefully in his chest. It's been ten years since he's seen anything of him other than a picture. He can't help the anticipation he feels along with the anger and nervousness.
Still, that hardly explains why he is sitting in his car with a virtual stranger accompanying him to pick up his son from school. Logan didn't give Charles much choice in the matter, he just hopped into the passenger seat and lit up a cigar. Charles hadn't bothered fighting him. He's already using most of his strength to focus on driving to David's school in one piece. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, trying to ignore the way Logan's eyes are boring into him.
"Can I help you or isn't there something more interesting to gawk at?"
"No, not from the looks of it."
Charles rolls his eyes.
"I'd thank you not to stare."
"Just never seen you this young... or with hair."
"I beg your pardon?" Charles asks, startled.
Logan shrugs slightly, puffing out a cloud of cigar smoke.
"When you sent me back here you told me you didn't have your powers in 1973. You didn't mention why, but things make sense now I guess. A lot of things actually, like you and David."
Charles knows he's being baited, that Logan wants him to ask, but he can hardly resist the urge when it has to do with his son. He makes a valiant effort though, makes it all the way to the next traffic light.
"What about me and David?" He asks around a sigh.
Logan grunts, takes another puff of his cigar and then puts it out on his hand. Charles winces at the action and then watches in fascination as the wound almost simultaneously heal. He doesn't comment though.
"David. What about me and him?"
"Oh, that. Just the fact that he hated you."
Charles jerks a little at that blunt statement.
"Excuse me?"
Logan shrugs nonchalantly again.
"I didn't even know you had a son until the world was ending and you insisted that we had to find him. That's how we ran into Magneto again. He was looking for him too. 'Course, David wanted nothing to do with either of you. I'm pretty sure Lehnsherr was the only person on the planet David hated more than he hated you. Guessing you weren't father of the year. Magneto spent the first thirty years of David's life in prison and then he got out and started trying to poach students from the school for his Brotherhood. He even tried to recruit David to get back at you. Talk-your-enemy's-kid-into-joining-your-side-and-then-rub-it-in-his-face type thing. That's how he found out about David being his son, from David telling him before the kid tried to kill him. That whole situation was more fucked up than I wanted to be involved in. I didn't have much choice by the end. You can't imagine the hell me and Ororo went through being stuck on a ship with you, Magneto and your pissed-off kid during a virtual apocalypse. Not that that lasted long."
Charles swallows a little, taking in Logan's words as the light turns green, but not entirely sure how to process them.
"What do you mean?"
Logan glances over at him but doesn't immediately speak. He doesn't answer Charles' question until they pull up in front of the school.
"He died."
"Sorry?"
"David died," Logan says, just as bluntly as before though there might be a hint of remorse in his eyes.
Charles stares at him as Logan continues speaking.
"The Sentinels attacked us. David saved Ro's life, but he died in your arms."
Charles searches Logan's face for a lie but finds none. He turns to stare out the window.
"If it's any consolation, it kicked you and Lehnsherr in the ass. You two made up, formed the united front we needed to come up with this plan."
Charles scoffs, wiping at the wetness gathering in his eyes. He can't imagine, doesn't want to imagine, a time when David has finally stopped giving him chances, has stopped trying to love him or forgive him and hates him instead, hates him so much that even at the end of the world he wants nothing to do with him until finally he dies right before his eyes. He thinks of what he would feel, what he did feel, or would've felt, clutching the lifeless weight of his son in his arms and he shakes his head hard. He doesn't want to think of it.
"Me and Erik working together, forgiving each other, it would've only taken, what? 60 years and our dead son to get there? Am I meant to think my future counterpart thought that was worth it?"
Logan is quiet for a long moment.
"No, he never felt that way but, in some ways, it gave him hope."
"Hope," Charles repeated derisively.
"Hope to strive for a way to change things. It doesn't have to be that way now. We're changing the future. We're breaking Magneto out of jail a hell of a lot earlier than he would've gotten out otherwise. We're stopping Trask from getting his hands on Mystique. There will be no Sentinels to kill David in the first place. He's still young. It's not too late to get your shit together or to tell Erik the truth. Save yourself some pain, Chuck. Say what you need to say before it's too late."
"What are you? A bloody life guru now?"
"Nah, just lived long enough now to know that if you get a second chance at something, you got to be a special brand of stupid to waste it."
Charles looks back over at Logan with a small glare. The other man holds his gaze unflinchingly.
"If you were truly the friend you say you are, you wouldn't be pushing me at Erik."
Logan snorts in response.
"I don't pretend to understand you two's fucked up relationship. Frankly, I don't know what you see in him. He's an insane asshole. Given half a chance, I'd probably kill him."
Charles isn't sure what his face does at that, but Logan chuckles slightly.
"Easy, Chuck. I'm not going to kill your boyfriend. We need him, remember?"
"Don't call him that," Charles retorts, glancing behind Logan as David approaches the vehicle.
"In fact, don't call him anything at all. David's here. No more talk of Erik. He doesn't like it."
David is suitably awed by Logan's talk about the future after he immediately reads the man's mind and garners the truth of his presence here (Charles really needs to start reinforcing ethical boundaries for David's telepathy, but it's hard to have a moral high ground as a parent when your son has seen you so high and drunk you could barely move).
David is a lot more hesitant about the idea of breaking Erik out of jail. Charles isn't sure what Logan says to him about it, but David doesn't say a word to Charles one way or the other.
Later that day, he sees Charles off with an uneasy smile. He does his best to ignore the displeasure in David's eyes and thinks briefly about a day when that disappointment is twisted into hatred.
It won't happen, he decides. He'll fix it. And as for Erik, well, one problem at a time.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
He considers telling Erik about David when they're playing chess on the plane.
The blood rushing in his ears, the ball of excitement and anger and the thrum of hate hate hate has dulled with exposure and Charles can think relatively straight now. Logan had said it would be a good idea, but Logan is not a parent and he doesn't know Erik the way Charles does.
He ultimately keeps his mouth shut. The silence between them is finally companionable, if slightly charged, after their little spats. Charles doesn't want to burst this strange bubble they've managed to coax themselves into, not with how much he aches with having missed just this simple interaction with Erik.
Plus, a part of him, the part that still throbs painfully from Erik hurting him, wants Erik to hurt too, even if it's only in Charles' head that he does, and so he doesn't say anything.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
Erik's fingers are dancing along his spine as they stand against a wall in the lobby of a Parisian hotel watching Hank and Logan procure rooms. His fingers get close to the scars from the bullet, but he doesn't quite make contact.
"Stop it, Erik," Charles mumbles as the lobby fills with the soft chords of "Superstar" by the Carpenters.
Long ago, and oh so far away
I fell in love with you before the second show
Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear
But you're not really here
It's just the radio
"Hmm," Erik hums with innocent absentmindedness.
Charles doesn't believe it for a moment.
"Why are you doing that?"
"Can't you guess?"
Charles rolls his eyes in response.
"I said stop."
"You did," Erik replies, but he doesn't stop, and Charles doesn't move away.
"What's the point? It won't change anything between us, won't fix anything at all," Charles states, cutting past whatever veiled banter or coy flirtation Erik thinks they are going to have. It isn't 1962, and Charles isn't going to act like it is.
"Maybe not. Most probably not," Erik concedes, resting his chin against Charles' shoulder. He represses a shudder at the contact as Erik's hot breath ghosts against his skin. He doesn't remember the other man being this tactile before.
"So…"
"So, I've spent the last ten years in solitary confinement. Ten lonely years."
Charles bristles. So that's what this is. Erik just wants to use him again.
"Go procure a prostitute if you need to scratch a neglected itch. Won't be difficult to find one on a night like this, I'd wager."
"That would be a waste with you here."
Charles grits his teeth in annoyance. Erik nestles closer so his mouth is up against his ear. He can only imagine what they look like, Erik pressing his body up against Charles' side looking as if he is whispering sweet nothings to him. They look too intimate to be just friends in a public place like this, that's for sure. Music is blaring outside from various nightclubs and people are stumbling around celebrating Victory in Vietnam Day. There are so many strange people out tonight, he hopes that they will be dismissed as a part of the whole menagerie of VV Day. Just another peculiar attraction that one can only find in Paris.
Charles' train of thought is abruptly cut off when Erik presses a soft kiss to his neck, sending a shiver down his damaged spine.
"Erik…" he trails off warningly, allowing the smooth tone of Karen Carpenter to fill the air with her sad remembrance and longing for her lover.
Loneliness is such a sad affair
And I can hardly wait to be with you again
What to say to make you come again
Come back to me again
And play your sad guitar
Charles wishes any other song was playing. He takes a moment to lament the chain of events that's led him here, in a hotel lobby in Paris standing next to Erik listening to sad love songs while the other man tries to… seduce him? He doesn't even know.
"I missed you," Erik admits, his voice holding such emotion that Charles must rear back to stare at him.
"That's not funny," Charles replies. He means it to be menacing but his voice is trembling.
"Am I a man that makes many jokes?"
Charles stares at Erik, gaging his expression. His face is open and expressive in a way that brings back their early days: when they trusted each other, when they could love each other without it hurting, without there being an undercurrent of anger, mistrust and hatred. It makes Charles shudder to think that Erik can still have that inside of him after all the horrid acts he's committed, not killing JFK aside. Within that, it's unfathomable to him that Erik can somehow look at him, broken as he is, and want him, miss him, maybe even love him still.
Charles scoffs to himself a little. Erik doesn't love him. He's just pent up. Ten years of celibacy will do that to anyone.
"That's not fair," he says in protest. It too is weak and without conviction. If he was thinking properly, he would accuse Erik of trying to manipulate him for some nefarious ends, trying to use him. It's too hard to think properly with Erik so close to him. Charles' heart is thumping hard in his chest, pushing him to reach for Erik in the hopes that he will somehow make him feel whole again, feel like himself in a way he hasn't in the decade since they've been apart.
"That's not fair," he repeats, shaking his head to knock the heady fog that has descended over him loose. He places a hand on Erik's chest with the intention of putting some distance between them. He opens his mouth, trying to let his better judgement take over, but he snaps it shut after a few seconds. He can't make himself push the other man away and say no. Erik reaches up and takes the hand Charles has put on his chest and moves it, so it rests over his heart. Charles can feel it beating fast under his fingers.
"Charles?" Hank calls from the desk, cutting through the tension.
"Am I still getting the four rooms," he asks.
There is a look of disdainful judgement on his old friend's face. Charles cannot blame him. Hank's reservations about their sexual orientation notwithstanding, he's been the one trying to pick up the pieces after Cuba. But he is also one of two people in the world who is most acutely aware of Charles' weaknesses, he can hardly think his friend is surprised about what's happening.
Charles looks back at Erik and gets slightly lost in his eyes, still so open, still so expressive, so raw and needy and… Erik has been in a jail cell for ten years for a crime he didn't commit, because Charles was so afraid of being hurt by him again that he just wanted him gone. Not dead, never that, just away. Erik, who has never been the forgiving type, doesn't seem to blame him for it. He still wants him even if he doesn't love him, maybe never did, and Charles is just so… tired. Exhaustion has set into his bones so deep that he doesn't have the wherewithal to fight anymore, nor to be angry or hurt. He wants some peace, even if it's only for tonight. He can regret it later.
"You'd better make that three rooms, Hank."
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
He feels like the most foolish man in the world when he sees Erik pointing a gun at Raven.
Almost ten years on a bender, and you'd think he'd have wised up to the man Erik truly is. Yet he can still be surprised, betrayed and heartbroken by him. That is the most foolish thing of all.
Erik says he's securing their future and it's a slap in the face. He had said that to Charles in bed the previous night. Charles had been curled up on his chest, sated after Erik had taken him three times that night. Hard and then achingly slow and then hard again. He had felt broken open by the end of it, physically, emotionally and mentally. He's pretty sure he cried and said stupid things about how much he missed and loved him. Erik had soothed away tears, said they would see Raven, and everything would go the way it was meant to, said he would secure their future no matter what. Charles had had an inkling to tell him about David then, but he wasn't in a fit state to bring their son into conversation. Besides, he reasoned, it could be a distraction from what they had to do. Little did he know.
He wonders if Erik planned this betrayal the whole time, if while he was fucking Charles, he was plotting out how to stab him in the back at the same time. Maybe he just needed Charles in bed so he could redirect his focus from figuring out what he should've known already, the lesson the past ten years was meant to impart on him: inevitably, Erik was going to disappoint him.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
David doesn't say anything to him when he gets back home from Paris. Maybe he sees something in Charles' face or, heavens forbid, his head that makes him give him a wide berth. They talk before he leaves for DC though.
"You're going to see him," he says without asking.
"Perhaps. I'm more focused on Raven."
He had only ever told David about Raven sparingly, but enough for the boy to know she was his aunt, Charles had loved her dearly, and they had hurt each other. When he was younger, the stories made David yearn for a sibling. Charles could think of nothing worse.
"Just… if you do see him, don't let him get in your head again."
Charles stares after David as he walks off, and not for the first time, he wonders just how much his son saw in his head and what he thinks of him. His telepathy is back, he could check now, but he's too afraid to know the answer.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
Erik drops a baseball stadium on him and, honestly, Charles doesn't know why he would be surprised about it. It's just the sort of ridiculous and reckless thing that Erik would do, levitate a stadium across the city so he can trap the President of the United States and try to kill him and the whole cabinet on live television without thinking of the collateral damage he might leave in his wake. Raven stops him and becomes a national hero while Charles makes it home with cuts and bruises, and a slightly lighter chest. He doesn't know why. Maybe it's Logan's assurances that the future is brighter.
When he gets home, David throws himself into his lap and hugs him hard. He's shaking a little and Charles gets a flash of his memory of watching the TV, hearing Erik's speech and seeing Charles beneath the wreckage of the stadium, his terror that Charles was dead. He hugs David tighter and does his best to ignore the flare of hate hate hate in his head when the boy thinks of Erik's face. They probably won't ever see him again, at least not for a long time, but even though he betrayed him and dropped a baseball stadium on him, the idea of David hating him still makes his heart clench. David abruptly pulls back from the hug to stare at Charles.
"What is so great about him? He hurt you, he left you. Why do you still care?" He demands to know, his voice filled with incredulity and anger. Charles softens a little and brushes his fingers through David's brunette hair.
"I don't know, my dear boy. I wish I did," he answers truthfully. David is not placated by the answer but doesn't question its veracity.
"You didn't tell him about me, did you?"
"…no, I didn't."
"Good."
Charles' heart is a mess as David stalks away.
Everything would be easier if he could just figure out what he feels for Erik, but that's like trying to thread an elephant through a needle. On the best of days, he feels twenty contradictory emotions about that man, so he can hardly provide his son with clarity on the subject. Not when he is so confused himself.
~*~*~ CECECECECE ~*~*~
When he starts to vomit, he chalks it up to withdrawal. He put his body through the wringer, it needs to acclimate.
Weeks later, he'll reflect once more on how much of an idiot he was to fall into bed with Erik Lehnsherr again.