It has been a handful of two weeks for our heroes and the Xavier siblings. The training continued normally, each day being more progressive than the one before.
New ways had been found for the mutants to use their powers. Banshee, for example, could now use a special suit and a powerful voice to soar across the skies.
Erik had far better control over metal, stopping even bullets before they left the canister. Mystique kept working out and along with Hank, both trained under Melinda in their close combat skills.
Melinda also did her training with Erik, now being more successful in throwing both knives and needles. While she still wanted the needles in order not to harm anyone, due to the Hypocratus oath that she took; Erik insisted that she always kept a knife or two on her just in case.
Their relationship has simply bloomed after their first night together, something that had started to become a little more obvious as days passed by. They could be seen spending a lot of time together, sitting next to each other, and Charles caught them sharing a secret kiss when they thought they were alone in the hallway.
He was happy to see his sister being better, finally having someone that would kill for her; quite literally when it came to Erik. He could see how much more alive she felt, and it showed, her eyes glowing with energy and life each time he looked at them.
He hadn't truly talked with Erik about the subject, feeling the need not to inquire about looking after his sister... At least, not yet. Seeing her, though, a far better and more confident version of herself made him sleep more peacefully at night.
Everyone was sitting around the big table for lunch, all equally hungry. Erik had helped Melinda with her confidence, and now all the chores of the house, cooking included, were carried out by everyone and in turns.
This allowed her to have more time for herself but also for everyone to take responsibility. The mood around the table was festive, with everyone joking and talking.
Well, almost everyone.
Erik was silent as per usual, watching from the corner of the table and not truly paying them much attention. On the contrary, his eyes were mostly focused on the mutant by his side, who laughed and socialised with everyone.
Feeling a pair of eyes on him, he turned his head and searched for the source; being noel other than Charles himself from the sear as Head of the Table. He was smirking at him, in the way of telling him,' I got you looking', and Erik simply rolled his eyes at the childish drama.
"I have a question," Sean asked, lifting his hand like a little kid while his mouth was full of food.
"What is it, Sean?" Charles asked while most at the table chuckled at his behaviour.
"What is Memory Day?" He asked, suddenly the laughter dying down. "I mean, I saw it's today on the calendar,"
Raven, Charles, and Melinda exchanged a look between them; the only ones that truly knew about that day.
"Is it here already?" Raven asked, not having realised how the time has passed.
Melinda spoke next, deciding to help with the confused looks they were given. "It's sort of a family...us... tradition. Each year, we light a big candle at night and write on paper the names of those we have lost. "
Charles took a few sips of his wine. "It's started more like a small game between Mel and me, to remember our parents. Raven joined the tradition soon after, and we sort of kept it up. "
"I think we should continue it tonight...for Darwin as well," Raven suddenly said, causing many to look down.
No one had forgotten the sacrifice of the mutant, who died unfairly at the hands of Saw while protecting the others. The mood turned grim, many still missing the man they had just started to know.
Melinda felt the most guilty, for she was the one in the Taxi to enlist him, and she was the one who had told him to look after the others and keep them safe.
A cold hand was placed upon hers, not even having realised that she had clenched hers in a tight fist. She looked from her plate to the owner of the hand, seeing Erik staring ahead into space; his jaw clenched at the memory of Saw.
Whether he placed his hand to support her or to control himself, she did not know. However, she was thankful for his contact for it somehow eased slightly what she felt inside her aching heart.
"I think it's a good idea. Everyone can join for any loved one that you miss, " Charles said, trying to save the mood. "We can meet in the living room at 8 o clock, and we will show you the place."
There were small mutters of agreement, everyone too deep in thought.
The rest of the day passed fast, the mood of everyone having shifted to a more quiet and slightly grim one. No one could blame them, as they all thought of who they wanted to honour and whom they truly missed.
Melinda was no exception, and she had found herself in her room for the past two hours. Barely coming out, she sat on her desk and stared at the piece of paper in her hands. On it, different names had been written neatly one beneath the other.
There was a knock at the door before someone entered. "Haven't seen you for a while, I came to check," Erik said as he closed the door behind him, seeing her slouching in her desk chair.
"Yeah, sorry... just needed some time alone to write," she admitted, and she heard his faint sepsis against the wooden floor as he approached her.
He stood behind her and peeked a glance at her paper, seeing the many names written on it. He lifted an eyebrow, not expecting her to have such a big list.
Surprisingly, he did not see the names of Charles's parents anywhere, nor did he see any other names that he speculated were her parents. Instead, the word 'father' & 'mother' was among the names.
"I can see that," was all he commented.
She let out a heavy sigh and leaned back on her chair. "Let me guess, you wonder about the many names; don't you?" She asked, not even seeming to mind his curiosity.
She did not blame him.
"It did draw my attention, but if you do not wish to share it, I will not pressure you," he admitted and sat at the edge of her desk, looking at her.
She gave a small smile, showing how grateful she was for his kind character and understanding nature. Many might consider him a cold or emotionless man, but she knew otherwise. He had plenty of emotions, plenty of hidden sides that he showed to anyone... anyone but her.
"It's a...complicated story... you might think I am crazy," she admitted, looking down at her lap where her hands rested there while the paper had been left on the desk.
A rough hand was gently placed beneath her chin, making her look up at him. She looked into his light blue eyes and face, once again taking in every detail she had grown to love and adore.
"Don't have so little faith in me," he said, looking down at her as he still held her chin.
She looked up at him with those brown eyes, lips parting faintly at the position but also the intensity of his gaze. After a moment of silence, she decided that she could trust one more person with her secret.
"As you are aware, I am not Charles' biological sister...his parents were quite the philanthropists. One day they visited a war-affected country...there they found a child, barely past 4, laying at the side of the road and left for dead...Needless to say, they could not leave the child to die and so they took her in, eventually bringing her back home, with them..." she explained, her hands playing with the strings of her sweatpants, her attention locked on the piece of paper.
"And that child was you, wasn't it?" Erik asked although it sounded more like a statement.
The connection there was quite easy for one to realise, especially one aware that Melinda was adopted by the Xaviers; just like Raven was.
"Yes... Fact is...I don't remember them, my parents," she admitted, her attention falling on the piece of paper, specifically where the words 'Father' and 'Mother' were. "I mean...a child should remember them but I do not...I don't remember my country or my family...my life before the Xaviers took me in...I know they must have been good people, perhaps worried when their child disappeared...I might not know their names but if they are not alive, I would still like to honour them"
Erik listened carefully, his attention on her and her alone. There was no judgement in his eyes, merely an understanding of her situation.
She was thankful for that, for many would immediately feel bad for her or try to sympathise with her. She never wanted that, for she strived all her life to show the world she was not some weak or defenceless woman.
"It's quite understandable not to remember. You were a mere child, and perhaps... you saw things your mind simply chose to forget when life turned better for you, " Erik said, grabbing her glass of scotch and taking a few sips.
Something about the way he spoke or the sudden need to drink some alcohol made it feel as if his words were more personal.
In a way, they were.
For he, unfortunately, could not forget what he had seen as a child. Rather, he chose not to until he had taken his revenge against the man that caused him so much pain and harm.
To his surprise, Melinda shook her head slightly. "It's not that, Erik," she admitted, making him lift an eyebrow at her. "It's just..." she let out a small sigh of frustration. "Do you believe in past lives?"
Her question was simply met with a lifted eyebrow once again, clearly being a very random and off-topic question. His reaction made Melinda feel embarrassed, and she immediately regretted asking.
She stood up and decided to head for the door, escort him out gently, and not waste his time any longer.
However, she had barely taken two steps away from the chair and hadn't fully turned her body when he grabbed her wrist and stopped her from leaving.
His grip was gentle and yet firm enough to make her understand that he would not let her walk away so easily. "Do not run away from me, Liebe," he said, the German word rolling so smoothly off his tongue.
Melinda froze on the spot, eyes wide open as he used that word. She had tried to learn some German, with his help, but she was far from being able to talk. Yet despite all that, she knew more than enough words... and she knew that one.
He had never called her that before, and she did not expect to hear it from him, not later and certainly not now. However, it was also proof that he was serious about wanting to listen to her.
For even his tone, while a little commanding had also a touch of gentleness. Proving that he did not wish to pressure her or control her, having as per usual, a big respect for her.
"Tell me about it," he continued, gently guiding her back to the chair.
She sat down slowly and he passed her the glass. She gratefully took it and enjoyed a few big sips of the strong and bitter alcohol before controlling her mind.
"I don't remember much of my childhood... but I do remember...other things..." she started, now holding the glass with both hands, once again staring in front of her. "I used to wake up as a child, in the middle of the night...having those odd dreams of war and combat...I was there, some sort of doctor and I helped many...I tried to help even more..." she whispered the last part of her sentence.
While vague, it was clear enough in her mind. The warm blood stained her hands, the fearful expression of young men that did not wish to die, their last words always about their family and loved ones...
Her grip on the glass increased, and her chest felt heavy. "As I grew up, things became more and more hazy... but they were never truly gone... there were those names... plans and even knowledge...in the back of my mind, just existing..." She closed her eyes, slowly relaxing her fingers before she cracked the glass. "Charles dived into my mind many times to recover those memories...he suspects is some sort of past life... memories that still existed..although there is not enough scientific proof about it, I believe it. I mean, look what our mutations allow us to do, " she explainer, faintly amused.
If one would look at their mutation, while genetically it can be explained... it's those mutations that do not seem to follow any logic or law of nature. Some powers were simply...fictional, to many, and could not truly be explained compared to other gifts like herself or Hank, to name a few.
"Whether I believe it or not...it does explain some things," Erik finally said, taking the glass gently from her hands and taking a few sips.
"What does? What does it explain?" She asked, now looking up at him, but he was more focused on the brown semi-transparent liquid in the glass.
"The way you fought me back there...that rush of adrenaline you craved in battle... soldiers do that or fight similarly the way you do...and then you also have that look in your eyes..." he emptied the glass in one go. "Your eyes are older than you. I have seen those eyes in older men, haunted by the war they faced when they were younger, " he admitted, and he grabbed the bottle, choosing to refill the glass.
Melinda kept looking at him, her eyes had grown softer, and her attention landed on his right hand. He was still in a turtleneck and covered it to the best of his abilities, but she had seen it... more than once.
"Back in Auschwitz?" She asked, making him look at her. "I saw the numbers on your arm... I know where they are from, simply chose not to ask...it's your past, and I have no right to snoop."
Erik filled the glass and left the bottle on the desk before taking a few more sips of the alcohol. He was not surprised that she had noticed or by her choice not to pry on that topic.
It was just her, to respect the privacy of someone and hold back any question or curiosity she had.
"Yes, some of them," he added and then felt her hand resting on his knee.
He looked down at her, seeing that pained but empathic gaze that only she possessed. He offered the smallest of comforting smiles suiting the moment, and she stood up
"Well, thank you for believing me... and trusting me with that information," she said and grabbed her piece of paper. "Any names you want me to add for you? I am not sure you would make a list, and no one else has to know"
Erik was silent for a moment, looking deep into her eyes. He let the glass down gently on the desk. "There is one, actually," he finally said, making her keep that smile as she sat down once again and grabbed a pen.
The time had come, and the two siblings led the small group of friends at the back of the house. Everyone, almost, held a candle that helped illuminate their way as they continued down a simple path through the woods.
It was not long before they reached a small cemetery in a clearing, and some sort of altar made of rock existing in the middle. Remnants of old candles and wax could be seen when they approached close enough.
Charles held the biggest and thickest of candles, it's flame bigger than the ones around it. He placed it on the altar and took a few steps back.
One by one, almost everyone made their way towards the candle. They looked at the paper with the names and folded it before gently keeping it over the flame. Then, they would drop it in a small ceramic bowl, letting the fires consume the paper.
When Melinda's turn arrived, she walked slowly towards it. In her paper, she added one last name, Erik's mother. She was honoured to do that, and she mentally prayed to that woman, reassuring her that her son was in good hands.
She would look after him.
She gently let the paper catch fire, her thoughts travelling to Darwin. In her mind, she begged for his forgiveness about her last words to him and prayed his soul had found peace.
She let the paper burn in the bowl and slowly walked back to her place, her mind repeating the rest of the names. Soldiers that she had failed to save in her past life, young men and women that fought for the freedom of the many.
Something they would also do when the time would come. She vowed to not lose none when that time came, no matter the cost or what she had to do.
She stood at the far back of the group, right next to Erik. His hand gently cupped hers, fingers interlocking in a comforting manner; hidden by the darkness of the night.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" She whispered, glancing up at Erik with the tip of her eye.
While those two did sleep together and enjoyed many nights of passion, their affection was very limited unless they were behind closed doors. Often, Melinda left Erik's room early in the morning in order not to let others suspect anything.
However, due to the importance and heaviness of the night... she did not wish to be alone for the rest of the night.
Thankfully for her, Erik understood her completely and didn't judge her. Instead, she gave the faintest of head nods, which offered her much-needed comfort.