{Author's Note: Note, some of the dialogue from this chapter is from X-Men: Apocalypse or inspired by it. Bold text is Polish.}
ERIK POV
Erik lost count of the number of days that had passed since Wanda and Lorna's deaths. But even with his healing factor, when they headed back to the school, Pietro was still very much constricted by his injuries, the cast still fitted upon his leg and a brace on his arm. And that was how Erik saw him now, bundled into the front passenger seat of the sedan Charles had provided.
Charles had rented a bus to ferry all the students and the remaining staff back to the school grounds, but he'd graciously provided a separate vehicle for Erik, his children, and Mila. Whether that was for Pietro's benefit—due to his limited mobility—or because he recognized that Erik would not want to be surrounded by people other than his family, Erik did not know. He supposed both reasons could coexist.
Either way, they were once again returning to a sanctuary for mutants, which did ease the persistent migraine in Erik's head a small degree, knowing that for the foreseeable future, his children would be surrounded solely by people who meant them no ill will.
But the fact that they had a school—a home—to return to at all was a miracle. Charles had once again out done himself.
Nina had asked Erik if he was going to help rebuild the school, and he had to explain to her that being able to control metal didn't automatically translate to being an architect, but at the time, it had made him wonder what Charles' long-term plan for rebuilding the place would, particularly because Erik's plans for the future largely hinged on the school once again being a safe haven for young mutants; his remaining children included. However, Erik should have realized that was one matter that he need not worry about because, as Mila had learned from Jubilee, Charles had hired a whole crew of abled-bodied men to work round the clock to restore the place to its former glory.
So it seemed that there was no end to what money could buy. Or almost no end . . . all the money in the world couldn't bring back the dead.
Erik imagined that a construction project on such a grand scale in the aftermath of a worldwide calamity when many buildings, cities, and countries were devastated by the destruction Apocalypse had wielded—the destruction his daughter had wielded—would be challenging. But once again he should not have doubted his old friend. According to Raven, the construction had been closely monitored, mainly by Jean and Charles, not because either had any particular knowledge about construction, but rather because both could monitor the crew to keep an eye out—or a mind out—for any nefarious thoughts that might endanger students, staff, and mutants in general. It was also the only full proof way to ensure that the crew kept up their end of their contract, i.e., working and living on the premises until it was completed, until their memories of the project could be safely erased by Charles.
Or at least, Erik assumed that was the arrangement. Although his friend preached a much gentler approach to handling humans, and did not agree—and would never have agreed—to alter Pietro's memories in the way that Erik had coerced Jean into, Erik knew Charles still guarded his students just as closely as Erik did his own children, though Charles had obviously done a much better job at keeping his students safe than Erik had at protecting his children.
Still, Erik wondered if the construction crew knew the fate that beheld them, or if they would simply awaken in their beds the morning after construction was completed, wondering why a substantial sum had appeared in their bank account (for Erik knew Charles would certainly pay them for their work, regardless of whether they remembered it or not).
No matter. Erik didn't particularly care. He trusted Charles to keep his charges safe and the school's secrets close to his chest. After all, he had wiped Moira's memory once upon a time, and he cared about her much more than any random construction worker.
Besides, it was himself who Erik did not trust.
Erik had also chatted with Raven regarding the school's reconstruction, but that was really the extent that he had conversed with her. He wasn't trying to avoid her—no more than anyone else at least—but he also had not attempted to seek her out. They were a lifetime removed from the days when they would seek out each other's company. But there was still mutual affection there, just beneath the surface, or at least, Erik thought so, even if she had shot him in the neck not so long ago. There's wasn't affection in any romantic sense, but just affection that arose between two people who the world had thrown to the ground time and time again, and yet here they both still stood. Still, Erik did not care to examine where he stood with Raven.
There would time for that. Right now, he had plenty of other things on his mind.
Erik glanced over at his son. The girls had taken the backseat and Pietro the one beside him, his chair was pushed back far enough that his leg being in a cast wasn't too much of a problem for the mildly short trip, though he doubted it was all that comfortable regardless.
Pietro stared out the passenger window, unaware or uncaring that his father was watching him. His headphones were neatly resting within his ears again as was becoming more and more common these days. The boy had been holding tightly to that Walkman ever since it had been returned to him, wearing it like it was an oxygen tank that he needed to breathe.
Erik let his eyes shift back to the road for a moment, checking to make sure their path was still clear before looking over at his son again. He wondered whether (or how much) he should be concerned by Pietro's habit of cocooning himself with music.
Of course Pietro had been attached to music, and as a byproduct of that his Walkman, from and before their first meeting. Erik knew that. But now . . . when his son was already so withdrawn, was it really healthy to let him immerse himself in music so completely?
There were much worse vices he could have. Erik knew that too, and it took a lot of effort on Erik's part not to indulge in some of those vices, but all the same, as parents do, he worried.
Erik returned his gaze to the road, wishing he could listen to the sound of Nina and Mila's chatter from the backseat, but they too were silent. Perhaps it was reality setting in that had rendered even Nina silent, knowing that they were all returning to a place where Wanda and Lorna would never return to again, not alive anyway.
Erik gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, for he could not bend metal less he destroy the vehicle and endanger the children within it. He felt sorely unequipped to handle his grieving children. Pietro had been right; Erik had never talked to anyone about his own grief. Not really anyway. Charles' peering into his mind notwithstanding.
And despite having a few months of parenting teenagers—just one now—under his belt, the fact was that before the events of the recent months (years?) the last child he'd parented hadn't been much older than a toddler. And how much simpler things had been then, when he could kiss a bruise to dispel his child's tears or turn a small piece of metal into the shape of a butterfly and make his child's worries disappear.
But those days were long past. And his children who remained were all too aware that he couldn't be the protector they needed to vanquish their fears and wash away their grief. Nina might hold onto some exaggerated magnification of his ability to protect her, but even she knew the permeance of death and Erik's inability to stop it.
Were he not driving, Erik would have closed his eyes just to shut out reality for a moment, but he didn't have that luxury. . . . and even if he did, it wouldn't change reality. That had been Wanda's power, not his.
And tomorrow—whether Erik's eyes were open to see it or not—they were going to say a final goodbye to Wanda and Lorna. It wouldn't be a funeral. Nina didn't want to call it that because she'd already had one for her mom and her grandpa, and she'd decided they were too sad. And Pietro hadn't expressed an opinion on the matter, so they were having a ceremony—no one could go so far as to call it a celebration—for Wanda and Lorna to recognize that though they were gone, they had once lived, and they would be remembered.
But that was tomorrow.
They still had to make it through today.
When they arrived back at the school, the near silence that had permeated through the vehicle did not carry over to the outside world. The atmosphere was much more subdued than it would have been on a 'normal' day, but across the lawn he heard a child's laughter and a bit farther away some kids were making a poor attempt at playing hacky sack.
It felt wrong, the fact that while Apocalypse's reach had affected the whole world, emotionally, some—perhaps even most—would quickly move on. Not everyone had lost a daughter or a sister.
And it would be easier still for the world to brush the circumstances of Wanda's death under the rug. How effortlessly people could ignore the suffering and subjugation of others. Perhaps that was an inherent truth of human nature—that one could walk over someone who had fallen, simply because it did nothing to slow their own path. Of course he had seen it before, so it should not be so shocking. With every year that passed since 1945, it seemed the world cared less and less that millions of people had died frightened, in pain, and praying for a help that never came. So why should Erik expect the world to acknowledge the death of two girls whose lives, in the grand scheme of things, would be insignificant to most?
He did not and could not blame the young resilient mutant children for finding a glimpse of joy in a world that would attempt to crush such feelings out of them, but still, it seemed close to impossible that the loss that reached the marrow of his bones was but a pinprick to some, if even that.
"Papa?" Nina questioned looking back at her father where he had—without realizing it—stopped on the path with Pietro.
"Coming, love." Said Erik as he pushed Pietro's wheelchair forward once again. Across the way, he spotted Pietro's—well he hoped they were friends, Pietro could use a few of those—classmates. They were sitting beneath an old oak, not the one that had been destroyed a few days prior, but one just as ancient. At the sight of them, Jubilee waved enthusiastically and looked like she was about to get up to come over to them, but Jean put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, which Erik appreciated. He never wanted Pietro to be alone, especially now, but he also just wanted to be with his family for the time being. And Jubilee had already visited Pietro back at the hotel. Right now, Erik needed to get them settled, and Pietro needed to eat something.
Beside the girls, Raven's son—he knew that's who he was even if she wouldn't admit it—and the young Summers boy lounged. A few feet from the group, Apocalypse's former adolescent followers sat, looking far from relaxed, as though they were not quite sure whether they would be welcome to fully join the group but also did not wish to leave the small semblance of comfort they had found by being close to kids their own age, rather than a world-conquering ancient being.
Their haunted eyes followed him as he walked across the grounds. It was a look that of the group of six teenagers all but the Summers boy—though it would be hard pressed to tell due to his glasses—and Jubilee seemed to share to varying degrees. Erik also saw that look in Pietro's eyes, and he saw it in himself too every time he looked in the mirror. It was a haunted look that told Erik that their brush with Apocalypse was not their first taste of the cruel weight of the world. Although Erik would not wish that cold hard truth on any young mutant, perhaps it was a good thing in the long run for Pietro that his peers had that knowledge because maybe it meant Pietro would be surrounded by companions who could, on some level, share his pain, or at least understand it to a certain extent; and that one day Pietro might find joy again.
For that was all Erik wanted—for Pietro and Nina to find happiness in this life. Everything else was secondary.
As Erik walked on, he wondered how the formerly-winged boy was doing. He imagined that beneath the large hoodie he wore that his back was bandaged just as much as Pietro's leg. He hoped the loss of the boy's wings would not be permanent, just as Pietro would one day run again. Erik knew all too well that there were crueler things than losing one's mutant abilities, but the list of things above it was a very very short one. And for Erik, that list grew shorter every time he lost a child.
Erik turned away. He was done worrying about so many people. The desire to protect all mutants was still within him, but it was no longer his reason for being. That reason walked slightly in front of him and the other sat in the wheelchair that he pushed along the path.
Erik couldn't have walked more than a mile the whole day, but he was still exhausted by the time the sun set.
Pietro had only picked at his food, and when he wasn't doing that, he had snoozed—or pretended to—most of the day.
Nina was struggling too. At one point Erik thought she was doing better when she went out to see what animal friends she could find, but she'd come back not too much later in tears. When he'd finally gotten out of her what was wrong, Erik found out that she had met two deer who she was positive were sisters and that was all it took to reduce her to tears.
Fortunately, by evening Nina's mood had improved some. Jubilee had taken her aside and taught her how to braid hair, which seemed to cheer her up considerably. Pietro, on the other hand, wasn't so easily brought out of his misery, but nevertheless—probably for Nina's benefit—he had sat and watched the two girls braid, unbraid, and rebraid their hair for a while. And at times, it almost seemed like he was paying attention.
But now as Erik watched over his son via the soft glow of the fire, he thought Pietro looked lost again.
Erik didn't know whose idea it was, but someone had decided that a bonfire would improve people's mood. So, while some children were gathered around the fire roasting marshmallows, Jubilee dazzled others with a sparkler show. But though Erik had helped Pietro get settled into a chair by his peers, propping up his leg on a makeshift footstool, Erik could tell the boy was not truly engrossed in either activity. Instead, Pietro sat silently listening, while the other teens engaged in idle chatter around him.
Erik appreciated the young mutants' attempt to include Pietro in their conversation, Jean seemed to being trying especially hard in that regard, but from what Erik could tell, her attempts were thus far unsuccessful. And he did not hold out much hope that any further attempts would be any more fruitful. Erik had already tried and failed to engage Pietro in conversation throughout the day.
Erik considered going over to his son and at the very least seeing if he would eat some chocolate because he was entirely unsatisfied by the amount of food Pietro had consumed throughout the day, but Erik suspected his presence would only make things worse, so for now he remained seated—and alone—some distance away. On another night, Charles might have tried to take a similar role as Jean and engage Erik in conversation, but tonight Charles was resting, still recovering from his encounter with Apocalypse and all the work he had done to get the school back up and running, so Erik expected to be alone for the rest of the evening. Not everyone knew to avoid him because he was Magneto—though he thought a few more people suspected such—but everyone knew by now that Wanda and Lorna were dead, and Erik was (had been) their father. But beyond offering condolences throughout the day if they happened to encounter him, few had dared approach the grieving father.
So it was a bit of a shock to Erik that his solitude didn't last for long.
Pulling up two flimsy lawn chairs, Alex and Raven sat down, one on either side of him. They didn't say anything at first, nor did Erik acknowledge their presence, but after a moment, Alex held out a beer to Erik.
Erik shook his head. Although he had allowed himself such a beverage the other night with Mila, here surrounded by children but enough adults to share the burden of chaperoning them, Erik didn't trust himself to stop at just one. And he couldn't afford to indulge, not while Pietro and Nina might still need him.
Despite the friendly gesture, Erik still considered standing up abruptly and leaving behind the two people—at least one of whom he had never quite known whether or not they were friends or simply tolerated his presence—who knew who he was and yet still weren't constantly trying to kill him. But it did not take much reflection to realize that the anger he felt was not aimed at them, so he remained.
"How's he doing?" asked Alex, nodding at Pietro and then glancing back in Erik's direction.
Erik suddenly regretted not accepting Alex's offered drink. "You spoke with him today, you know the answer to that question." Said Erik, barely bothering to turn his head from where he gazed at his son.
"I did." Said Alex, and then after a pause, "But I'm not his father. I thought . . . maybe he's better when he's with you."
"You've spent more time with him on the whole than I have." Erik replied brusquely.
"It's not a competition, Erik." Said Alex with a sigh. "We can both care about him, but I'm never going to be what you are to him. I just . . . if he needs something, or if you need something just let me know."
Silence.
"Are you staying here? At the school, I mean." Erik asked finally breaking the silence, ignoring Alex's offer for the answer to the question he asked was really all he needed to know.
Alex sat back into his chair a little more and took a swig of his drink before answering. "Yea I think I will. You know—or maybe you don't—but the gym teacher retired recently, and Charles has been looking for a replacement since before Apocalypse. He asked me if I'd do it. I said I'd have to think about it, but I have now and I'm going to say yes. It'll be nice to spend some time with Scott. We haven't had much time together for years, not really anyway. . . . and it'll be nice to be here for Peter too. I don't miss anything else about that place they had us locked up in, but . . . I have missed him."
Erik nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment. He'd gotten the answer he had been hoping for, so why did he still feel like he was slowly suffocating?
Erik opened his eyes again and cleared his throat, turning toward Raven, "What about you?"
"What about me?" asked Raven, head tilted slightly and her voice mildly accusatory but only mildly so.
"Are you staying?" Erik asked again motioning vaguely to their surroundings.
Raven gave a half chuckle and took another swig of her beer. "Me? Stay here and teach kids? I don't think so. No one wants that. Trust me."
"Charles might." Said Alex softly.
And maybe Kurt would too thought Erik, if he knew who she was to him, but he was certainly not going to tell Raven how to parent (or not parent) her child. He had no ground to stand on in that regard.
"Charles can't always get what he wants." Replied Raven. "But when I leave, maybe it doesn't have to be like last time. . . . maybe I'll come back to see how the new gym teacher is doing, see if he hasn't blown up the school again." Raven added, shooting him a pointed look.
Alex gave a small laugh of his own. "So what will you do while you're gone?" asked Alex, voicing Erik's own question.
"Don't know yet." Said Raven, and Erik couldn't help but notice that her gaze did in fact stray toward Kurt before she looked back over at the two men beside her. "Probably same as I was doing before. Look for mutants who need the help that I never got as a kid, at least not before I found Charles."
Erik didn't know where the conversation would have gone from there, and he didn't get the chance to find out because at that moment, Nina came running over and crashed into his legs, causing him to give a little huff of surprise. But his reaction did nothing to deter her for she just climbed right up and settled onto his lap.
And in that moment, Erik felt oddly exposed knowing Alex and Raven would be front and center to his interaction with his daughter.
"Papa! Look." said Nina holding out her hands, which were cupped together, to her father.
Erik looked down to see what his daughter had to show him and saw that she had captured a firefly between her palms. Erik smiled at his youngest. "Remarkable. You're quite the explorer. Can you . . . understand it?"
At that Nina giggled. "No, silly. But my grandpa used to tell me which ones were boys and which were girls when I showed him. I think he might only have been pretending to know though, but that's okay. It was fun to guess one way or the other before they flew away. I think this one's a girl."
Erik smiled sadly at his daughter as she reminisced about another person that was permanently cut from her life, while the firefly she held did just as she said it would and took to the air.
Together they watched the Lampyrid fly off until they lost track of it in the dark. Then Nina let out a content sign and leaned forward so that her head rested on Erik's chest, right on top of his heart, which was fitting because that was where she existed even when she was not physically right in front of him.
Again Erik was aware of Raven and Alex watching their interaction, but still he did not let it stop him from running one hand down her head in a loving gesture, smoothing her hair away from her face. He didn't care if they thought it strange to see the man who had once aimed missiles at thousands of men or dropped a stadium around the nation's capital express love for his child. He couldn't help but be reassured by Nina's presence, nor could he quell the desire to hold her tightly to protect her from the world at large.
In fact, if not for the pull of his heart toward Pietro, and the desire to see his remaining children grow up, he could have stayed in that moment forever.
But Nina pulled away from him anyway before he had to be the one to break the moment, leaning back so she could look into his eyes.
"I want to show you something else, Papa. Give you something actually." Said Nina quietly.
"Hmm? What's that?" asked Erik, already imagining that Nina had crafted a card, a poem, or something equally sweet to say goodbye to her sisters tomorrow because it was the sort of kind and thoughtful thing she would do.
And what she had for him was very thoughtful and more kind than she could ever realize, but it was not at all what he expected.
Instead of pulling something from her pockets or getting up and dragging him out of his chair to guide him somewhere, Nina reached down the front of her jumper and pulled out a silver chain he had not noticed there before. She lifted it over her head and held it out to him.
But it wasn't just a chain, it was a necklace—a locket to be precise, and a very familiar one at that.
Erik swallowed already feeling a catch in his throat as he took it from her small hand. "How—I thought—" Erik tried to say but the words escaped him. Fortunately, Nina answered the question he had not managed to ask.
"Mama said it belonged to you, and that the people in there were your parents. Is that true?" asked Nina with innocent curiosity.
Not trusting himself quiet yet to speak, Erik nodded. Then, after a moment he added, more to himself than to Nina, "She kept it. Magda, your mother. I can't believe she kept this all these years."
"Why wouldn't she?" asked Nina genuinely baffled. "Mama said it was important to you, and you didn't mean to leave it behind, just like you wouldn't have left Mama if you knew about me."
Erik closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. His daughter had such faith in him. Time would teach her that that faith was misplaced, but he didn't have the courage to dispel it at the moment.
"Your mother was a very special person, Nina. I wish . . . I wish I would have known her longer, and I'm sorry that you had so little time with her. I'm sorry she's not still here with you." Said Erik finally.
Nina only gave her father a sad but knowing smile. "But she is still here." Said Nina, touching the center of her chest. "Just like Wanda and Lorna, and my grandpa. And your parents too." added Nina, laying her hand on Erik's chest this time.
"Of course." Replied Erik after a beat. And they were, but that wasn't the same as them actually being there. It was simply a sweet sentiment, one he was glad his daughter was still innocent and optimistic enough to have despite how life had treated her thus far.
"What happened to them, your parents?" asked Nina, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.
At that question, Erik sucked in a breath. Maybe he should have seen it coming given the photographs inside the locket, but still he wasn't expecting it.
He swallowed, buying himself a little more time for he did not know how much to share with the little girl. How much more did he reveal about the world's cruelty to a child—to his child—who had already experienced so much of it.
"They were taken from me, when I was a little boy." Said Erik finally, and he felt his ears redden in shame. He knew such a reaction was illogical and unwarranted. He should not be ashamed of the fact that his parents were torn from him and this life too soon. He was just a boy at the time. It hadn't been his fault, not truly, even if he had failed to save his mother by moving a simple coin, which would be so easy for him now. But nevertheless, Erik could not help but feel ashamed, to feel as though he had failed his parents as much as he had failed his children.
"Why?" asked Nina stopping her fiddling to look her father in the eyes once more.
Erik pondered the question for a moment, thinking of how best to answer. "Because people will forever be afraid of those who are different from themselves." Answered Erik, though that short explanation barely scratched the surface of the reasons his mother, his father, and so many of his people had died—had been murdered—not so long ago.
"Is someone going to take you away?" Nina asked, and Erik the slight tremor of fear in her voice alone made him wish that Nina had not saved his locket at all if it was going to lead to this line of questioning and ultimately cause her such distress.
Erik did not answer right away, stuck at a crosswords, not sure which way to go, but aware that he could not let the question linger too long.
"Never." Erik said after a moment.
I will not give them that opportunity. He added to himself as he reached out and tucked a strand of Nina's hair behind her ear.
Nina stared at her father and perhaps past his eyes into his soul. He wondered how much she knew. If she could tell from his one-word response that it was not quite the truth, just half of it. But if she did realize such, she did not call him out on it. Instead, she settled back into his chest, as if she were made to fit there perfectly.
But Erik did not let her rest there quite yet, gently pulling her back from him so that he could address her once again. "Thank you for this, Nina. For keeping it safe for me. For bringing it back to me." He said in her mother tongue holding out the locket. "But you should keep it."
Nina frowned up at her father confused. "But it belongs to you."
"And before that it belonged to my mother, but now I'd like it to belong to you. You've kept it safe this long. I know you'll always keep it safe. Besides, it looks much better on you." He replied because it was true, but he did not add that it also felt so much heavier around his neck than he imagined it did around hers.
"And your grandma would want you to have it." Erik added as he placed the locket back around her neck. "Maybe one day you will have a child to pass it onto as well."
Nina scrunched up her nose in a mix between a smile and that face children make when an adult says something about a future that seems a million years away. "If I had a child, then that would make you a grandpa. That'd be strange."
"The strangest." Said Erik softly, kissing the top of Nina's head. Almost as strange and as impossible as sitting by a fire in a sanctuary for mutants, enjoying the feeling of his child safe within his arms.
{Author's Note: It did not make sense to me that Erik and Jean could rebuild the school on their own. Just because Erik can move metal and Jean has telekinetic powers does not meant they know how to construct a building or could work seamlessly together, even if Jean was reading Erik's mind. And what if they have to pour concrete or solder metal together or something like that? I don't know how to build a house, but it seems difficult.
Note, I have not watched today's new episode of WandaVision, but guess what I'm doing right after a post this! So don't worry about posting spoilers in the comments, at least not on my behalf.
Also, this chapter is kind of longer than usual. (Don't get used to it.) Honestly, I almost split it in half, but ultimately, I decided it worked better altogether.}