Me again! Sorry this is late, finals are next week and I've been really busy. Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving and has a good holiday! Enjoy and I will update after finals are over! I'd talk more but I seriously need to go study right now…
Onto the books!
Chapter Fourteen: Lock and Key (Part II)
Charles
"Erik, please, I very much doubt the integrity of the lock will give before that door does," I say with a long sigh. "Before you injure yourself, please stop." The other man ignores me, kicking the door a few more times before striding to the window, hand outstretched. Nothing happens. I drop my head into my hands and practice breathing. "The compound has sealed the window shut as well, Erik, I hardly think that attempting to use your powers once again is going to alter that." In frustration Erik turns back to the door. I groan and tilt my head back, my patience beginning to wear after almost an hour of this. I know my daughter; she would have been very thorough of the room. We are not going to get out until she comes back and unlocks the door.
A part of me is very proud of her attention to detail, and the amazing feat she has accomplished. The rest of me is going to ground the hell out of her once her arse is through that door.
"Give it a rest, Erik," I say after three more kicks to the door. "We are stuck here until she decides otherwise."
"I refuse to accept that that little human managed to lock us in a room!" Erik snarls. I feel my lips twitch into a reluctant smile.
"She's very resourceful."
"She's a brat," Erik says sharply. Normally I would disagree with him vehemently, but there's a trace of affection and awe in the term that makes me snort. That is not the first time I've heard her addressed as such. And frankly, I am silently agreeing with him this one time.
"Yes, she is, but she is my brat. Even if this is more your style than mine," I say. Erik huffs, sounding choked. It takes me far too long to realize the older man is laughing. By his wide eyes I would wager he is just as shocked by the noise.
"Please, Charles, this sort of blatant manipulation has you written all over it. She got that from you, not me."
We freeze. It's the first time he's admitted that Anya is just as much mine as his.
Erik finally sits, looking more lost than I've ever seen him, across from me. He's quiet for a very long time. So long that I wonder if we are going to remain in here in silence until that girl finally lets us out of here. But no, I should know better - he's composing himself, forcing words he doesn't want to release out. I forgot that, that he had to work himself up to talking. When he finally manages to spit them out his voice is ragged, broken. "I didn't… I didn't know she was alive," he admits softly. "If I had known…"
"I know, Erik," I soothe, placing my hand on his knee. "I know." He shakes his head angrily, refusing to meet my eyes now. His hands are shaking.
"I have nightmares about her crawling out of that grave," he says bluntly. I shiver, the words making my stomach roil and bile rise in my throat. "She was so small, but always so determined… Got that from her mother," he smirks. "Never met a woman who was so damn set on ruling the world."
"Can see why you liked her," I say calmly, masking the short burst of jealousy in my chest. Erik glances at me shrewdly, a corner of his mouth lifting.
"She was always following me though. Never cared to be around her mother much. Used to tottle after me around all day, wanting to be with me…" There's a trace of a smile on his face. "Had to climb my back, like a monkey. Used to call her affe because of how she would scramble up me every chance she got." I feel my answering smile, a small laugh breaking free.
"She still does that. A bit too tall now, but she still jumps on Alex's back."
"Never expected Havoc to be the brotherly type," Erik says with a smirk. "Least not the affectionate big brother. He had the 'beat the younger siblings to a pulp' down alright."
"It's a wonder he and Sean haven't killed each other," I say ruefully. "Of course Anya joins in when they spar, drive us all mad when she does too. Never seen a girl so intent on getting herself into trouble." I poke his leg and sit back with a grin. "Got that from you too. She's been expelled and suspended from school constantly." He puffs out another laugh, shaking his head ruefully.
"Most likely."
"And she has your destructive tendencies as well. Always blowing something up, usually on purpose." I feel my smile become slightly sad, slightly grieved. Erik sighs and looks out the window, green eyes - the eyes Anya inherited - seeing something I can't fathom. I don't look, leaving his thoughts to himself. When he gets up abruptly, without a word, I think he's going to try and break out again. So I'm surprised when instead he walks over to the closet and pulls out a chessboard from the top shelf. My heart pounds in my chest and my tongue feels thick in my mouth. I have to swallow three times before I can force the words out. "Erik what are you doing?" I ask. He raises an eyebrow at me, walking back.
"I thought it was obvious," he snarks, but there's no bite to it. I watch, a little warily, as he sets up the board.
This feels dangerous. More dangerous than anything else we've done since he came back. This is bordering on what we used to be like - playing chess and revealing our hearts bit by bit, piece by piece. Erik knows this. Yet we're not that, not anymore. Whatever we were before now - be it friends or the potential to be more - ended that day on a beach, in the heartbeat where Erik made his choice. I made mine and we went our separate ways. This is too close to the bone to what we had been once, and the pain of it ripples through me, through my heart and my mind. I don't know if I can do this.
"You're projecting," Erik murmurs softly. Chagrined, I pull in my wayward thoughts and grimace slightly.
"I'm sorry, my friend." The endearment tumbles out before I can stop it, and I go very still, waiting to see his reaction. He pauses for less than a second, before his mouth quirks and he resumes setting up the pieces.
"I can't believe my daughter's human," he says once the pieces are set up. A flare of anger rises and my first move - my knight - is a bit sharper than I intended, knocking over a few pieces.
"So help me, Erik -"
"No, that's not… I didn't mean that in a bad way, I just meant… It doesn't make sense." Erik shakes his head and moves his pawn to the right of the queen. "I just don't understand how she survived everything. The fire in the hotel, being buried, those mutants who attacked her, that asshole -"
"Please do not call my students -"
"It doesn't make sense. I would have thought a human would die after all that. But she didn't."
"She's your daughter. She refuses to give up on anything." Erik laughs again, and I smile. I forgot how much I like his laugh. "She's strong," I continue, more seriously. "Eleven years old and she managed to run to help with a piece of glass in her side." Erik inhales sharply.
"I should have been there."
"Yes, you should have," I say bluntly. I shift my queen over a few spaces and dispose of one of his rooks. Erik winces. "We looked for you when we realized who she was but you had disappeared."
"I couldn't stay. But I would have, if I'd known." His eyes linger on my wheelchair. If I'd known… "I'm sorry."
Pain. "Erik don't -" I don't know if I can hear this.
"I'm sorry Charles." His eyes are earnest, but he's watching the board, not me. "About Anya. About Cuba. All of it."
"Sorry that you are starting a war against humans?" The words come out bitter. His reply is forlorn but honest.
"Yes." I inhale sharply. This... this is more than I could have hoped for. What I was telling Moira about all those years ago. I just almost gave up hope of it ever coming to pass. "Don't misunderstand - humans are inferior." He licks his lips and shakes his head sharply. "But if she's so willing to die in a war then I'm not going to give her a damn war to martyr herself in." He goes quiet, considering the board and ignoring me, ignoring how I'm staring at him in no small amount of awe. "That's your fault by the way," he comments with a tiny smile. I feel my mouth open in shock.
"How is that my fault?" I snap. He shrugs.
"You're the one who gave her that damn sense of honor." His eyes are brighter than they have been in a long time. His smile is still gentle though, still small. "She sure as hell didn't inherit that from me."
"I don't know about that my friend," I murmur. His smile fades and he focuses on the chessboard, avoiding my eyes entirely. I clear my throat and sigh. "You should try to talk to her more. To all of them more. They missed you even though they won't admit it." I can feel the immediate no in Erik's mind resonate across the space between us. I frown at him. "Erik really…"
"Anya has already made it clear what she thinks of me. As have the rest of the children," he says shortly. My frown deepens as confusion settles.
"What do you mean?"
He snorts. "Charles I do believe you were there when she punched me in the face. Since then she's made a point of how I left you." I roll my eyes and groan, dropping my head into my hands. "What?"
"That was her inane attempt at manipulating you," I inform him. Erik's brows furrow and I sigh. "She tried a different tactic with me."
"Why would she do that?" he asks, blinking. I shake my head and let out a bitter laugh.
"Because she thinks what will make me happy is if I have… well… you." He blinks. Repeatedly. He doesn't blush, but then, Erik was never one to reveal himself in such a manner. His face becomes impassive, blank. His thoughts shut down on his emotions so I barely gain a trickle of thought from him. His lips part on an exhaled word as he thinks the implication through to its inevitable conclusion.
"Wait…"
"Yes, exactly that."
"So this is….?" He waves around us, gesturing to the room and the locked door keeping us trapped here. I nod, feeling my cheeks sting with the heat of a blush.
"I'd imagine so."
He's quiet for so long that I think the topic has been dropped. Without a word he moves his piece across the board. "Was she upset when she found out that we're not heterosexual - or at least completely?" he asks calmly. It's my turn to blink at him in confusion.
"No, no it didn't seem to bother her. It doesn't bother any of the children -"
"The boys probably figured it out living with us," he interrupts. "For Anya to be so willing to accept it - to even attempt at forcing a relationship between us - she must know someone who is homosexual. Someone she cares about. Most likely one of her human friends, since she wouldn't have realized about you unless you told her and all of the boys are very heterosexual."
I realize, a little belatedly when Erik looks up and smirks at me, that my mouth is hanging open.
"That is… quite perspicacious of you," I mumble. His smile disappears and he shrugs, refocusing on the board.
"Just watching her," he denies softly. I want to correct him, but feel his anxiety pool between us. I let it go. There's a heavy pause, where we move our pieces and contemplate an even grander move. "I can never thank you enough for being such a good father to her." My heart tightens painfully in my chest and I reach for him without thinking. He pulls back swiftly, refusing to meet my eyes, and I almost lurch forward to force the contact, until I realise I can't from where I'm sitting. I lean back and watch as Erik bows his head in shame and guilt. I can't stand to see him like this...
"Erik you never have to thank me for that!"
"Yes, I do," he counters sharply. His green eyes finally meet mine, piercing with an intensity I've rarely seen, and with a warmth I know I haven't. My breathing seems to have become more shallow, like there is not enough oxygen I can pull into my lungs. "I shot you, Charles, I left you crippled and broken on a beach, and you took in my daughter and treated her like she was your own -"
"Erik, enough. Don't do this to yourself," I interrupt. His breathing is coming more rapidly as well, great lungfuls tearing through his broad chest and his teeth gritted against his mental anguish. "I love her. I love all of our children, my friend," I tell him as gently as I can. "You never have to thank me for that, never have to apologize for that."
His eyes blink at me and seem to glisten most suspiciously for a moment before he grunts and drops his gaze back to the board, tugging at his short hair and scowling in a way I've learned our daughter does when she is faced with emotions she finds most disagreeable for being "girly." I smile to myself, moving my remaining knight across the board.
We finish the game and silently reset the pieces, starting anew. It's not until my queen is taken, and I am desperately out of moves, that I think to ask a question that is weighing heavily on my mind. "Do… do you know where Raven is?" I lick my lips nervously when his eyes flicker over me with a bland expression. He shrugs, carefully guarding his thoughts and emotions, before moving a bishop to corner my king.
"I tried to contact her. Tried to contact any of them. I don't know where they are." I exhale slowly and his eyes flash with guilt before he checks himself. "You should use Cerebro to find her."
"I can't very well do that," I remind him. "Cerebro is not completely functioning at that capacity -"
"So get Beast on it," he retorts, taking my king. I sigh and begin assembling the board for a third game.
"Hank has other things on his mind. Like why two mutants tried to kill your daughter," I say very seriously. I give Erik a look when his gaze hardens, warning him not to start this again. "There might be someone trying to protect her - another mutant." Those eyebrows quirk in disbelief. I shrug. "He won't tell me anything else. Claims Jesse has told him to keep his mouth shut if he wants to protect Anya." The insinuation that we cannot still rankles below my skin.
"I'm going to impale that little bastard," Erik says flatly. For once I don't have the heart to argue.
"Having someone who knows both your past and future is quite… troubling," I mutter. "He was such a sweet boy when I first met him."
"If he was staring at Anya like he does now he was never sweet," Erik snarls. I roll my eyes at him and release an exaggerated breath.
"Erik -" What we're talking about hits me and I suddenly burst out laughing. Erik glares at me, lip curling slightly. "I'm sorry," I chuckle, waving a hand vaguely at him. "It's not that, its just… well… You're a bit overprotective of her aren't you?" I laugh again and Erik scowls harder at me.
"That little shit is staring at my daughter like he wants to fuck her into the ground! How the hell am I supposed to react to that?" he demands. I bite back more laughter, taking in his narrowed eyes and pursed lips.
"You trust her to make her own choices," I advise. "She's not interested in him like that, so trust that she will make her own choice." Erik shakes his head sharply at this, giving me a pointed look.
"You can't tell me that you didn't want to make him think he was a twelve-year-old girl when you saw that," he rebuts firmly. I shrug, not denying the assertion. The thought has crossed my mind more than once. I refrain from admitting it's adorable - and more than a little attractive - how fiercely protective Erik is of our shared daughter.
"She can handle him" I say. Erik simply scowls and appears to be debating the best course to eviscerate the young man with the nearest metal object. I hide my smile and we continue our game.
We are silent for so long that I think we will be until Anya releases us from this room. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, wishing to at least be moving even if I'm restrained while I do so. Erik's eyes flash guiltily at the chair but I shake my head when he opens his mouth. No more apologies; I don't want them and he doesn't need to give them.
Erik watches me intently after our fifth game, when the sky is dark and the only light is from the lamp in the room. "When is she going to release us?" he finally asks. I shrug.
"When she wants to I suppose. We might be here for the night." I hear him swallow across from me and glance up to see him averting his eyes. "Are you alright?" I inquire. He makes a strange noise and ducks his head, cheeks reddening in a most perplexing manner. The trail end of a thought beckons at me but he snatches it back before I can read into it. A small smile and a twinkle of mischievousness reside in his expression. The same one he had right before he shoved Sean outside the window. What? You were thinking it. For some reason the comparison both makes me nervous and… excited? Maybe more anticipatory. Maybe all three.
We sit there in silence. I want to ask but refrain, and Erik's smile only grows. "They're coming back," he says, about ten minutes after that. I stifle a yawn and roll back slightly, contemplating the board. I shift my queen and pin his king in a corner.
"Check mate," I say. Erik gets up to start cleaning up the board and put the pieces away. I crack my back with a groan. Yes, I can hear the boys now, but Anya's mind is still silent. Probably wearing that helmet again. Why did I give that thing to her?
Task completed, Erik sits back down again with a smile pulling up the corner of his mouth. "I don't know whether or not to yell at Anya for this or thank her," he murmurs. I quirk an eyebrow at him in disbelief.
"Thank her?" I echo. Erik nods with an accompanying shrug. "Why on Earth would you thank her for locking us in a room together all day?" I ask, perplexed. He simply looks at me with those piercing green eyes.
"Would you have talked to me otherwise? Truly?" he murmurs softly. I suddenly find the table very interesting, feeling my face warm with a guilty flush. We both know the answer, even though Erik is too kind (at the moment) to mention it. The front door bangs open and then closes, voices and thoughts drifting up to us. I clear my throat and roll back, away from that man and his too knowing eyes and revealing eyes.
"Thankful or not she is still grounded," I tell him sternly. Erik just rolls his eyes and scoffs quietly under his breath. I try not to take too much offense at that.
Footsteps, the kind that try to be quiet but succeed with very little success, come up the stairs down the hall. I sigh and roll my shoulders back. We wait, quietly, as they get closer to us. "I have a better idea than grounding her," Erik says suddenly, that feverish light in his face again. The steps are just a few paces away when Erik strides towards me and takes my face in his hands. His eyes are keen, bright, mischievous in a way I thought I would never see again. And I am quite suddenly terrified of it.
"Erik what are you -" I protest. The door turns and Erik bends to plant his mouth over mine, hands still holding my face.
Anya's shocked gasp is lost in the roaring in my ears and the press of his lips against mine, soft and slow and sure in a way that has my heart racing in my chest. Soft, I think deliriously. For such a hard man he has such soft lips… It's over as soon as it started, Erik standing up to his full height to face Anya with a stern countenance that betrays nothing of his almost playful intent. My lips are stinging after his leave mine, almost keening for the return. I gulp audibly and Erik's mouth, the side I can see, quirks into a smirk. Smugness radiates off of him even as he glares defiantly at our daughter. Anya stands in the door, hands limp by her sides, mouth working dumbly as she tries to form a sentence. "I believe that's mine," Erik snaps, stalking towards her. Anya's mouth is the only part of her that seems able to move as he snatches his helmet off of her head, sending wisps of red curls about her face, and strides from the room. He practically trails savage glee behind him as he leaves. I should probably feel more bitter about that than I do.
Not - How - Sean's Bet - Didn't expect - Need bleach - WHAT?! Anya thinks furiously, mind spinning. I clear my throat and give her a reproachful look, still fighting the pull of that quick and rather chaste kiss.
"Close your mouth darling. It's not polite to stare," I advise.
Erik's right; this is far better than grounding her.
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