AKA the chapter which started this whole thing off, and sent me down the rabbit hole of this AU.
Finding Home
Charles' hand shot out and caught Erik's wrist. Erik frowned, glancing first at the hand then at Charles' face. He recognised the familiar expression of pain on his friend's face, accompanied by the familiar gesture of fingers pressed to his temple. Someone's thoughts had invaded Charles' mind uninvited. It was rare, Erik knew, for anyone who wasn't a telepath to cross Charles' barriers, but not unheard of. It only happened when the emotion was particularly strong or unchecked.
Without a word, Charles turned his chair and moved down an alley. Erik followed close behind.
"What is it?" he asked when Charles stopped again.
Suddenly his mind was assaulted by a high-pitched, frantic voice, thoughts and emotions so jumbled up together that Erik had to fight to keep his balance.
Fear, lonely, what was that, help, so alone, don't know, ouch, where to, no, no, where to go, shh...
Their eyes met.
"Where?" Erik asked.
Charles nodded towards the gap between two dumpsters. Erik stepped forward cautiously, crouching in front of the gap then felt his breath leave him.
A pair of dark eyes, wide with fear, scrutinised him. Erik fought to swallow the lump in his throat. He tried to smile comfortingly and held out his hand.
"It's okay," he murmured in Polish. "We won't hurt you. Come here."
Tentatively a tiny hand gripped his palm, and Erik was overwhelmed with a wave of anger. He pushed it down, and led the owner of the hand out into the light. Behind them, Charles inhaled sharply. The little girl's eyes darted around. She was tiny and filthy. Erik couldn't stop himself; he pulled her into his arms and carried her across to Charles. Perhaps most heartbreaking of all, the child didn't try to fight him; instead she nestled into his shirt, fingers anchoring to his collar. When was the last time someone had shown her any sort of kindness, let alone comfort?
"How old is she?" Erik asked, kneeling in front of Charles.
"She can't be more than three," Charles replied.
He brushed back the girl's matted hair, his heart aching as she leaned into the touch like a cat.
"Where are her parents?" Erik frowned with barely contained fury.
"Gone," Charles said. "I'm not sure, her memories aren't clear. I don't know if they're dead, or if they abandoned her."
"How could anyone do that?" Erik muttered.
Charles felt his heart swell with love and admiration for the man in front of him. Yes, Erik had done some terrible things – many of which tended to involve Charles himself in some way – but it was this side of him, the side that genuinely wanted to fight injustice and help people that had caused Charles to fall in love with him in the first place. He'd seen it all those years ago in the ocean off the coast of Florida and been drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Erik's methods may have been more than a little misguided, but his intentions were good. As evidenced by the way he cradled the child to his chest or how he knelt in the alleyway, heedless of the filth that was transferring itself to Erik's clothes.
"Well, we can't leave her," Charles declared. "I don't know what we'll do, but we're not leaving her to this. We'll take her home tonight, and figure something out in the morning."
Erik nodded.
"What's her name?"
Charles paused, delving into her mind again.
"Nina."
XXX
The childish giggles that greeted Erik when he stepped into their tiny studio apartment immediately brought a smile to his lips. After changing out of his own dirt covered clothes, he'd been dispatched to find something more suitable that her current rags for Nina to wear, while Charles gave her a bath. Dropping the bag onto their bed, Erik leaned against the bathroom door frame and watched the scene before him.
Charles sat on the floor, leaning over the edge of the tub to work shampoo through Nina's hair. Judging by the colour of the water, this wasn't the first time he'd done it, but Nina seemed unfazed, squeezing her eyes closed against the bubbles. But it was the way Charles carefully poured water over her hair to remove the suds, using his other hand to shield her eyes, the utter tenderness in his actions that inspired such a feeling of want in Erik's chest, the strength of which surprised him. Suddenly he knew he wanted a lifetime of this, of returning home to Charles and their child, despite knowing it was a path denied to them by biology and prejudice. All his previous goals in life – mutant supremacy, revenge for his mother's death, finding and killing Shaw – paled in comparison.
He wanted this.
"Okay, let's get you dried off before you start turning in to a prune," Charles said, chattering away to Nina despite the fact she couldn't understand English and his Polish remained ropey at best. Clearly she found comfort in the tone of Charles' voice even if she couldn't understand the words; something Erik could empathise with completely. "Here we go," Charles said, lifting her out of the water and into the towel in his lap.
Over his shoulder, Nina caught sight of Erik and her face lit up even more.
"You're back!" she cried in Polish.
Charles followed her eye-line, sharing Erik's smile.
"See, Erik's back," he said, bouncing Nina in his arms. "Erik, would you...?"
Erik stepped forward to take Nina from him, allowing Charles to manoeuvre himself back into his chair. He carried her out of the bathroom, tickling her stomach through the towel and grinning at the laughter it elicited.
Nina stared in wonderment at the new set of clothes Erik had managed to find in the only store still open. They were nothing fancy, however they were clean and in one piece, but the amazement in the little girl's expression pained both men.
"Mine?" she whispered to Erik.
"Yes," he nodded.
"Tomorrow," Charles said. "Tonight it's time for bed. I don't suppose you picked up some pyjamas for her too?" he asked Erik.
"Um..."
Charles chuckled, and turned to retrieve one of his own t-shirts. Once they'd dressed Nina in it – it fell almost to her ankles – Charles sat her on the edge of the bed and carefully tried to work a comb through her tangled mess of hair. But it had been so long since it had last been brushed, he quickly realised it was a lost cause.
"Can you ask her if we can cut her hair?" he asked Erik. "It'll be easier for everyone if we do."
Erik crouched in front of her, murmuring in Polish, the words falling easily from his lips. Nina nodded her assent, and Charles began to carefully chop the dark locks. It took longer than he anticipated, but eventually he'd managed to cut the worst of the tangles off, and worked the comb carefully through her remaining hair until it lay in a smooth bob at her shoulders.
"There we go, that's better, isn't it?" Charles smiled.
Nina gasped when she saw her reflection, and Charles took the delighted grin as a sign she was pleased with his handiwork.
"Okay, bedtime," he insisted.
Flicking off his shoes, Charles pulled himself onto the bed. Immediately Nina cuddled into his side, gabbling in Polish while looking up innocently at him. He glanced at Erik for clarification.
"She says she's not tired," Erik translated from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing about his lips. Switching back to Polish, he said, "Are you sure? It's very late for little girls to be awake."
"Not sleepy," Nina insisted.
"Hmm," Erik hummed. He crossed the room, settling onto his side of the bed. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."
Nina turned, leaning back against Charles while her little fist twisted into Erik's t-shirt.
"When I was a little boy," Erik explained, "My mother had a special song that she would sing to me when I couldn't sleep."
"A song?" Nina echoed.
"Yes," Erik nodded solemnly. "Why don't you lie down, and we can see if it works on you too?"
"No, it won't," Nina insisted.
Erik chuckled.
"Let's call it an experiment," he said, tucking the covers around her.
Despite the fact it had been over thirty years since he'd last heard the song, the lyrics came easily to him, the familiar Polish words rolling off his tongue. Nina fought valiantly to stay awake, but he could see her eyes drooping closed even by the end of the first verse. But Erik continued to sing, just in case, and when he finished he sat in silence, just for a moment, remembering how his mother used to tell him that one day he would sing the song to his own child, just as she sang it to him, and her mother before her. He brushed Nina's hair back.
"That was beautiful," Charles murmured.
"Old family song," Erik muttered.
"Whatever it is, it worked," Charles smiled. "Poor little thing. Probably hasn't slept properly in... Well, too long. I can't imagine she gets too much sleep on the streets."
"No, you don't," Erik agreed, remembering his own time on the streets. Charles looked up sharply, but Erik shook his head; not now. He lay down, and the two men watched the little girl as she slept soundly between them. Already they could see the difference in her, and not only because she was now clean and her hair shorter. Some of the fear and tension – neither of which had any place on the features of so young a child – had lifted, revealing the innocence underneath.
"We could keep her," Erik suggested eventually.
Charles raised his eyebrows.
"You're wanted and I'm dead, I'm not sure that's exactly what they look for in adoptive parents," he replied, only half joking.
"Are you honestly telling me that you don't want this?" Erik asked, pointing between them.
"I do..." Charles agreed.
"But?"
"But what if she isn't a mutant?" Charles asked, meeting Erik's look head on.
He didn't shy away from the truth, and Erik had to admire that, even if the truth was rather painfully directed at Erik himself. He lowered his eyes, back to Nina, who still had his t-shirt clutched in her hand. Slowly, feeling Charles' eyes on him the entire time, Erik ran her fingers through Nina's hair, marvelling at the change in it, from the coarse mess that had caught his fingers in the alley, to the silky smooth strands that fell though his grip. They sat like that in silence, he running his fingers through Nina's hair and Charles watching him, until eventually he lifted his head again to meet Charles' eyes. There was no judgement in them, only concern.
"I don't care," Erik realised. "I don't care if she's a mutant. I want her, I want this, with you."
A smile broke across Charles' face, and he leaned across, careful not to knock Nina, and pressed his lips to Erik's.
"I love you," he murmured.
XXX
Erik was quickly coming to the conclusion that all children-related shops were quite frankly terrifying. The children's floor of the department store had far too many bright colours for his liking, and he'd skulked behind Charles and Nina, glaring at anyone who dared to get too close or to look at their little family the wrong way. Of course, his glare disappeared the moment Nina had gasped in delight at the variety of different clothes, replaced by a fond smile as they picked out several outfits for her, including some much needed pyjamas. The shoe store had been a traumatising experience of parents trying to wrestle screaming children into co-operation, and Erik had sent a silent prayer of thanks that Nina was so excited at the prospect of owning these items for herself that she enthusiastically did whatever they asked.
But it was now, in the toy store, that he realised true hell lay.
Every aisle seemed to contain yet another child having a tantrum because they were not permitted the toy they wanted and a fraught parent trying to explain why. Erik shuddered, then pressed a kiss to Nina's forehead. She'd become shy at the amount of people and the increased noise, but Erik had gladly scooped her into his arms, finding as much comfort himself from the action as she did.
"I felt less nervous the day we went after Shaw than this," Erik muttered.
"Let's hope we can avoid any potentially fatal injuries today," Charles joked.
They wandered around the store, trying to avoid the worst tantrums, until Nina caught sight of a rack of soft toys. Her eyes lit up, her hand instinctively reaching forward.
"Which one?" Erik asked.
Nina bit her lip before pointing at a fat rabbit with brown fur. Erik pulled it free, offering it to the girl. She stared at it with wide eyes, and Erik realised with an ache in his heart that she probably couldn't remember the last time she had a toy to call her own, or even just a toy that wasn't something pulled from the gutter or a trash can.
"This one?" he confirmed.
Nina nodded, clearly expecting him to refuse. But Erik simply handed the toy for Charles to carry.
"Really?" Nina whispered.
"Of course," Erik replied, his heart breaking a little more. "You can have more, if you want."
Nina pointed again, this time to a soft toy horse, and Erik immediately handed it to Charles. Despite the earlier terror he'd felt at being in the store, suddenly he refused to leave until they'd spoiled Nina rotten with as many toys as they could afford, if only so he never had to see that expression of longing on his daughter's face again.
His daughter.
He had a daughter, he realised with a jolt. He had a daughter with Charles. His eyes sought Charles', and he knew from the other man's expression that he was experiencing the exact same feelings and wished things were different so he could kiss Charles because, damn, they had a daughter. But then Charles winked, and Erik knew he understood.
"Let's see what else we can find, hmm?"
XXX
"Nina," Erik began, crouching in front of the girl. "We'd like you to stay with us, if you want to."
"Forever?" she whispered.
"If you want," he nodded.
"You won't leave?"
"Never schatz," he promised. Nina leaned forward and snuggled into his arms, eliciting a smile from both men. Erik kissed the top of her head, while Charles leaned forward and took her hand in his own.
"You're papa now?" Nina asked.
"How about if I'm papa, and Charles is daddy?"
"Da-dee?" Nina frowned, the word foreign to her.
"It means papa in English. What do you think?"
Erik tried to ignore the flutter of nerves in his stomach. He so desperately wanted them to be a family now, that if Nina objected to the idea of him and Charles, it would break his heart. Calm your mind, Charles' voice murmured in his head. Erik took a deep breath.
"Promise you won't leave?" Nina said eventually. Her voice was so small and so filled with defeat, she so clearly believed that they would abandon her too that Erik had to close his eyes for a moment to calm himself.
"I promise," he croaked. "We will never leave you. Ever."
He sent a quick projection to Charles. Charles eyes widened slightly, then he leaned forward, cupping Nina's cheek with his free hand.
"Nina," Charles whispered. "I promise you, we will never leave you."
Nina's face lit up. Suddenly she launched herself at Charles, but kept one hand in Erik's shirt, dragging him with her until they ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.
"Troublemaker," Charles laughed, kissing Nina's hair.
"Just like her daddy," Erik teased.
"Funny, I was thinking she was just like her papa," Charles retorted.
Erik smirked, breathing in the smell of his daughter's hair and revelling in the fact that for the first time in over thirty years, he had a family.
XXX
Erik was a great father.
Charles had always suspected he would be, but now he had indisputable, empirical evidence as he watched Erik Lehnsherr, mutant terrorist and one of the most wanted men in the world, honest to God giggling as their daughter attacked him by tickling his sides. It was simultaneously disturbing and adorable all at once, an unusual combination granted, but one that Charles experienced more and more these days since Nina had come into their lives. But what made it worth it, was the way the lines on Erik's face disappeared when he was with Nina, the laughter and the love and the joy erasing the fear that had taken up permanent residence in Erik's features since Washington. Or perhaps it was just since Charles had joined him, since he couldn't actually know whether or not Erik had looked like that for the four months between Washington and Charles' arrival in Krakow. Charles knew, without reading Erik's mind, that he was afraid of losing Charles and now Nina, afraid his past would take them away – or perhaps more accurately, that it would take him away from them. He seemed to forget that Charles was a telepath, and there was no way he would let that happen, even if he had to go around mind wiping the world behind them.
"Charles, help," Erik croaked, but Charles simply sat back in his wheelchair and enjoyed the view. Bastard, Erik's voice echoed in his head, which only served to make Charles even more determined not to intervene. Despite Erik's protests, Charles knew he loved these moments, simple, unplanned moments when the three of them could just be. Where Erik wasn't a wanted terrorist, where Charles wasn't supposed to be dead, where Nina wasn't abandoned on the streets like a piece of trash. Where they weren't pretending to be Henryk Gurszky or Max Eisenhart or Nina Gurszky – because they'd decided Nina looked more like Erik out of the two of them, so they would present her to the world as his daughter – they were simply Charles, Erik and Nina. Or daddy, papa and Nina.
Family.
It had been a long time since any of them had had a true family. Nina was a mystery to them, other than the few details Charles managed to gleam from her muddled memories. The best he could figure out is that at one point she had parents, but they were long gone. Now, he and Erik were her parents as far as she was concerned, and being so young, Charles suspected she would go on to forget her birth parents completely. Erik had been alone without family since Sebastian Shaw shot his mother before him, and Charles lost his sister the same day he lost most of his mobility on a beach in Cuba. Raven may have started to visit in the four months after Washington, but they hadn't re-established their relationship before his 'death'.
Suddenly Nina bounced off of the bed and threw herself onto Charles' lap, sending them rolling back a few feet much to Erik's amusement. Charles winced when her boney knees collided with his stomach, but he still pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair and planting a kiss there.
"Hello my darling," he murmured. "Did you have fun torturing papa?"
Nina giggled, turning back towards the bed where Erik had pushed himself up onto his elbows and was trying – and failing badly – to look stern.
"Yes!" she grinned.
"That's my girl," Charles smiled.
"Must you encourage her, Charles?" Erik retorted.
"Of course."
Erik snorted with laughter, and Charles grinned. It was strange, here in a studio apartment that was much too small for two grown men – one of whom was in a wheelchair ninety percent of the time – and a small child, away from everything he'd ever known, that he had found this feeling of safety and love and family and home. But here it was. It was his, and nothing and no one would ever tear it away.