Anote: Happy New year! Sigh…I have so many ideas for how to end this story that I couldn't compress it all in one chapter so here is the first bit.

Chapter 50 – Full circle part1

Present day.

Somewhere in a nameless little village in Eastern Europe.

It was snowing again.

Every day it snowed here but the inhabitants seemed to take it in stride. It reminded Charles of London, where people casually sloshed about in the rain like if it was normal to arrive to work dripping.

The professor leaned against the window frame, sipping his hot tea and looking at the picture postcard scene outside. With a quiet laughing smile, he raised his hand to return the enthusiastic wave of a man and his little girls, as they happily plodded along with their grocery bundles. For a moment his mood had shifted into one of pleasure but as soon as they walked away, he fell back into his usual lethargic brooding.

The man in the room behind the professor looked on at this with an unhappy frown, 'Is there any lunch, my son?'

Charles made a brave attempt to smile again before turning around. 'Yes. I was just going to wake you. Your niece had sent some black bread, pumpkin soup and…'

Here Xavier hesitated as he peered into the last pot, swaddled in towels to keep it warm, 'and a mystery vegetable, it would seem.'

The old man took his cane and slowly walked forward to investigate.

'Turnips Charles,' he supplied as he scowled at the lack of meat. 'I told Helen we need meat. You are much too skinny! I must fatten you up while I have the chance!'

The man raised an eyebrow as Charles turned pale and coughed repeatedly.

'Thank you Jakob. Your son…,' the professor began a bit shakily, 'also fusses about my weight. Well at one time he did.'

As Charles avoided his gaze by setting the table, the old man unconsciously caressed his heart where a picture of his now grown-up son rested against his skin. It had been close to a month now when the young professor had knocked on his door and changed his life with a few words. Of course, he naturally wanted to run out the house like a mad man and he would have hobbled all the way to the United States if Charles hadn't blocked his path. After all that he had lost in the war, the news that his youngest son, his baby boy had somehow survived the fighting had reduced him to a hysterical sobbing mess.

Charles had promised to take him and that had comforted him greatly, as much as the kind manner in which the small man bundled him up and hovered over him with tissues and hot drinks until he had recovered himself. Xavier then hesitantly accepted his offer to stay with him, only agreeing when he informed the young man that there was no hotel or inn in the village. Families and communities that had been scattered during the fighting were slowly returning, but the reconstruction had been sluggish.

As Charles settled in and the initial rush of euphoria was over, Jakob soon realised that they had fallen into a symbiotic relationship of sorts. He needed to hear every single bland unimportant detail of his son's existence as much as Charles needed someone to listen to him talk about Max or Erik as he now called himself.

They both cried together as Xavier told him how Erik's experiences in the war had crippled him emotionally, leading to a life of crime in order to extract his vengeance on those who had murdered his mother. Jakob had immediately taken ill after learning of Erik's imprisonment and his niece had to practically move in to help take care of him. He was a bit surprised at how worried his son's friend was about him, who had gone so far as to fly in doctors all the way from Switzerland to attend to him. It took him two weeks to recover but he acknowledged that it was for the best. From the stories Charles had recited to keep him entertained, Erik's PSTD made him quite skittish and fragile and they couldn't just spring the news of his father's existence without unpredictable consequences.

However, after a week or so when he was back on his feet, Jakob began to get the distinct impression that Charles seemed perfectly happy to take up residence in Erik's old room for an unspecified duration of time. Even though Charles talked about Erik constantly, he strangely didn't seem the least bit in a rush to see him again. It didn't take Jakob too long after that, to figure out that something else was going on in the background, especially when he heard Charles crying himself to sleep at nights. Charles was a very nice man and he liked him immensely but to his knowledge Erik wasn't gay. However, he hadn't seen his boy in decades so he couldn't be sure. He would leave that situation in the hands of God; hoping that Charles would somehow be spared additional pain and heartache.

'My son, put on your jacket now and go to Helen and return with the meat. She must have forgotten. Little Molly is cutting her first tooth and that would drive any new mother to the edge.'

Charles opened his mouth to protest but then closed it in resignation. Even though it was ingrained in him to obey his elders, it really was pointless to argue as Jakob was as stubborn as a donkey. The old man took a seat at the small dining table and folded his arms, looking quite prepared to wait until the professor returned with the missing lunch item.

'You can finish this,' Charles suggested desperately, as he placed the tea pot in front of the other, before dashing off to get his coat. However, it was only when the freezing cold air hit his exposed fingers, did the young man realize that his gloves were not in his coat pockets.

'Oh blast!' he muttered miserably, stuffing his hands into his empty pockets. As the professor glanced at the distance between the two houses, weighing the benefits of returning indoors or just making a sprint for Helen's house, he caught sight of Erik reading a street sign, across the lane from him.

It was one of those slow motion moments, where your eyes connect , your mind blacks out and your stomach drops into your feet, and you weren't sure what you should feel, let alone how to breathe. But regrettably, after a few seconds, this bit of movie magic ended with a disappointing pop.

'GOD DAMMIT, XAVIER!' Erik roared as he stumbled forward, almost loosing his footing in the snow. 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!'

Charles gulped nervously and took one step back as the man got closer. His boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend he should say, was coming towards him with all the intensity of a runaway train.

Erik hadn't really planned on what he was going to say. A person who felt less could have perhaps said more.

Charles had to admit that being slammed against the side of a wall hurt, but damn it felt good to have Erik shove his tongue down his throat. The professor didn't give a damned who was watching as Erik hoisted him up into his arms and in response Charles wantonly curled his arms and legs around the tall man, as if his life depended on being plastered against the man's strong frame.

'What happened?' the small man asked, as pulled away to gently caress and investigate Erik's bruised face.

The tall man winced before leaning down to kiss him again, a bit softer this time. 'It's nothing; just Logan and I saying hello to each other.'

'Who's there?' a curious voice called out, followed by the familiar sounds of a cane tapping on the wooden floor. 'Charles is that you?'

Stifling an insane desire to laugh, the professor broke their kiss, 'One minute sir. Please stay where you are!'

Erik immediately released him and put him on his feet, before reaching out for a convenient log of cut wood, in which to defend them.

Quickly, the professor cradled Erik's face in his hands again, 'No, Erik! It's alright, that's my friend. Erik, look at me.'

The tall man turned them around so as to put his body between Charles and the stranger, while straining his eyes to perceive through the darkness in the doorway, to see the shadowy form within.

'Erik, look at me!' Charles demanded more urgently this time, knowing that he had only moments before he lost control of the man again, 'I have something to tell you and its important.'

In dismay, he could now detect an upsetting change in Erik's breathing.

'It's nothing bad,' the young man insisted, trying to keep him calm. 'you must trust me!'

Erik closed his eyes, struggling for control, using the breathing exercises that he had been practicing for months. It wasn't as hard as he thought it would be, and eventually he opened his eyes to smile at the man below him. 'You've found a member of my family haven't you? It's the only reason to explain why you are here.'

Charles couldn't help but smile in return. He had missed Erik so much.

'I hope to God it isn't my Uncle Victor because he's nuttier than squirrel poo!' Erik remarked with nervous humor, opening his arms so that Charles could wrap himself supportively around him, 'Hi there! You can come out now!'

The professor held his breath. This was SO not unfolding the way he had hoped and it was really no surprise to him when Erik's knees gave way. Erik had once tried to explain to him what it felt like when he experienced a flashback. As he described it, when the past suddenly overlaid on to the present and then back again, the sensation could be disorienting. Charles had no doubt of the truth of that statement now.

With a loud cry of delight, Jakob rushed forward and the two of them awkwardly carried Erik into the next room where they crashed haphazardly into a chair. In the end, it was just easier for the old man to sit and then deposit Erik on the floor, where he promptly hugged any part of his father within reach. Erik felt he must have gone into some sort of mild shock, because he couldn't remember who or when someone had tucked a blanket around his body. His father shushed him as he called out agitatedly for Charles.

'He's gone in to your room to lay down,' the man reassured him, as he stroked his son's head and shoulders. 'He's not far.'

Erik closed his eyes as his father continued to talk in a low voice. Jakob knew without him having to ask, what he wanted most to hear. Erik's heart plummeted when he realized how few of their family had survived.

'Little Molly has your eyes,' his father informed him happily, 'and she loves to ask or maybe demand is the better word, piggy back rides from Xavier. Perhaps you can suggest to him, that he should not do this anymore. She's getting to be quite a… errr… plump little bundle of joy.'

'I lost mom,' Erik unexpectedly whispered into the silence that fell between them.

'And I lost your two brothers,' Jakob confessed with a grief that would never completely heal. It wasn't natural for parents to outlive their children. 'It wasn't our fault my son and you have to believe that. I am not angry or disappointed at you for anything that happened. I am so very, very happy that you are here in my arms now!

'Father, I'm so sorry. Everything's a mess. I am a mess. I have used the education you gave me to do terrible things. You shouldn't be so kind to me!'

Jakob didn't respond to this, knowing full well that Erik would have to forgive himself, just as he had to do. Patiently, he let his son cry out his pain and as the young man allowed his father's word to comfort him, the wound that had been hollowed out in his soul so long ago, began to close just a little.

'Focus on the present, my dear boy. There is so much to be thankful for. Keep your mind here with me; with us,' his father crooned lovingly as his son shivered uncontrollably in random spurts, 'Speaking of the present, do my eyes now fail me, or were you kissing Charles in the doorway earlier?

Erik hesitated, not quite knowing what to say to such a direct question.

'Well you see Father,' he cried out defensively, as the Jakob graced him with a look of curious exasperation.

'You think because I am old, I know nothing!' he said scathingly. 'Why do you think your mother always sent me to the butcher? Do you think we always got the best cuts of beef by accident? I will have you know that I was quite a handsome figure back in the day!'

Erik gaped speechlessly; a bit stunned to realize that the village butcher had once admired his dad.

'So what happened?' his father asked, poking him impatiently with his cane as his son continued to gape at him in a completely idiotic manner, in his opinion, 'Charles said you went away one weekend, and opted not to come back. This sounds very fishy to me. Did you quarrel? Have you found someone else? Well I hope to GOD he's something spectacular because Charles….'

Erik raised his hand to stop this barrage of questions and critical commentary on his life choices, 'Father please.'

His dad quieted down reluctantly, waiting patiently for information.

'All of that has to wait,' Erik explained passing a weary hand over his face, 'Charles' company is in trouble. Do you think you are strong enough to travel?'

Jakob frowned and invited him to explain the situation. The man mused over these new facts scratching his beard absently. 'I can't say I understand it all because this sounds like something requiring a good lawyer more than anything else, but I will come. I could not bear to be parted from you now. My friends tell me that travelling today is almost as comfortable as sitting in an armchair.'

'Especially, the way Charles travels,' Erik muttered under his breath, thinking of the professor's Gulfstream aircraft that he had flown across the Atlantic in.

'You do know that it would be much easier for you to act on Charles' behalf, if you were actually part of the family?' the old man remarked sneakily, as he shuffled across to the lunch table.

'What?' his father asked innocently as his son choked, 'It's my job to meddle in your romantic affairs.'

'FATHER!' Erik hissed in horror, glancing at the closed bedroom door in concern, 'Stop that this instant!'

'Oh, stop being such a blasted coward,' Jakob snorted knowingly, 'Go talk to him, we have some time. If we are going to accuse some huge multi-national bank of fraud, I need lunch first. Just so you know, I am not at ALL pleased that you were living with Charles for months and then left for no apparently good reason. Eisenhardt men do NOT act so dishonorably! Your dear mother is probably having a seizure right now in the afterlife.'

As Erik continued to look doubtful, Jakob flapped a loaf of freshly baked bread in his son's direction, 'Go! Go kiss and make up…or whatever is the phrase you young people use nowadays!'

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Erik climbed to his feet and walked over to his old room. His father had turned into quite a character in his old age. He frequently looked back just to reassure himself that the man wasn't going to vanish as soon as he turned his back. However, Jakob didn't seem to have any similar concerns as he dug into the meal with a hearty appetite, completely ignoring his son's worry.

TBC

* I dug up on the Xmen wiki to find Erik's father's name, if you were wondering where I got the idea for Jakob Eisenhardt from.