Hey ya'll! So I had no decent internet over Christmas/New Year's break. That is my excuse, lol. Now I'm back at school and back in the swing of things. I hope ya'll like the new chapter! Please do review and let me know what you think, and so I know ya'll are still out there, lol; it helps a lot! Thanks so much to all of you who do! And for reading, too. :) Happy New year everybody!
Chapter 11
Now
Charles is the first one awake the next morning—even the children are all still asleep, he knows—and at first he doesn't move. He and Erik are still naked, wrapped in each others' arms, and he lets his head rest against his husband's chest and listens to Erik's heartbeat. Though there isn't any logical reason for it to, considering that Erik is not the one whose life is in danger, it still calms him.
Last night was quite enough to let him know he is still here right now, but the steady beating and the warmth by his ear reinforces everything that last night assured him of.
When Charles gets up he does it reluctantly, but he needs a bath and once the children are up there won't be time for it.
And then, of course, the rest of the family will be here later, once they've come back from the infirmary again.
Erik is awake by the time he's pumped enough water for a bath, and there is barely enough room in the tub for the both of them, but in the past six weeks they've learned to make it work. They climb in together, and they said what needed to be said last night and they don't speak much now. Charles's head is paining him more by then, and he closes his eyes and lets Erik do most of the work of washing the both of them. Erik's hands on him are gentle and soothing, but something about the touch is somehow possessive and urgent at the same time. Afraid.
Charles understands that completely.
The rest of the morning is something of a blur—the trip to the infirmary included, because he doesn't particularly want to remember the simple but uncomfortable procedure of taking the sample for the biopsy. It wasn't precisely painful, thanks to the local anesthetic, but having a needle inserted through his skull was disconcerting and not quite his idea of a good time.
But Erik was there. Funny, how that makes everything better now. Though now that he thinks about it, it always did before, too. He just lets himself admit it now, that things are the way they should be between them.
Charles is glad that they didn't run into Hank at the infirmary, and more glad that they didn't yesterday. He wouldn't have been ready to face anyone else; Jean and Ororo knowing is hard enough, and he is more than anxious about this afternoon.
Hank works at the infirmary now, training with one of the other doctors because there are, of course, no medical schools anymore. Quite a lot of that goes on in the settlements. It isn't quite a reversion to apprenticeship; it's simply the only way the young people can be trained now. There isn't a large enough population to re-establish universities just yet, and travel between settlements is scarce enough to make that idea even more impractical.
But they didn't see Hank yesterday, and they didn't today, and Charles is just beginning to think they'll have a few hours of peace before the other children arrive later in the evening. But as they near the house he knows Raven is waiting for them, having been too concerned to wait until Hank was home to come.
Ororo and Kurt are at school and Jean is upstairs with the twins; Raven is alone at the table when Charles and Erik come in. She stands up immediately, though slowly, looking at Charles in the way he knows by now to mean that she knows something is wrong.
"Where have you two been? What's going on?"
You didn't warn me, Erik tells him silently.
I'm sorry…I was trying to figure out how to tell her. It would be a bit cruel to make her wait now that she's here.
Erik squeezes his hand briefly, before Charles goes to her and brings her into the bedroom where he can speak with her alone.
It isn't easy, explaining it himself for the first time—certainly since he can't offer any more assurances than the doctor gave them. And Raven just looks at him, and he wonders if she's heard anything he's said at all but then her arms are around him so tightly he can't move.
It's awkward and half from the side, because at nearly eight months along her belly would come between them otherwise, but Charles doesn't mind. Raven just holds onto him, not knowing what to say, and that's all right too because he doesn't know, either.
"You'll be fine," she says finally, muffled a bit in his shoulder. "You have to be."
"I appreciate the sentiment," he answers weakly.
It's a little longer before she pulls back and looks at him. "How are you doing? I mean…"
"All right under the circumstances, I suppose. Other than that it's rather hard to say."
"Is there anything I can do…?"
He shakes his head. "No…" She looks a little unsteady and he nudges her back toward the edge of the bed. "Sit down…"
Raven listens to him for once, holding onto his arms tightly as she lowers herself to sit, and for several long seconds she doesn't seem quite able to breath. A delayed reaction, Charles supposes, but it worries him, and he calls her name until she looks at him again.
She gives the arm she was holding onto a squeeze. "Sorry…I just…god, are you trying to send me into labor early?"
"That wasn't the goal, no," he says, raising an eyebrow as he sits beside her.
She does her best to smile, and then looks down at her belly and lets her free hand rest there. "You do have stick around, you know," she says quietly. "This is your first grandkid in here, after all."
"Don't remind me," he chuckles softly. "And how is Hank doing? I've meant to check up on him, but I must admit I've been rather…distracted, lately."
Raven's smile is less forced this time, because she knows what he means. "He's fine. Though the fact that I've done this before and I'm not freaking out is probably helping."
Charles remembers, then, to explain the rest—the one bit of good news they got yesterday—and Raven is nodding in understanding.
"I guess it's good you won't have to worry about that anymore." She sits back and sighs. "It's kind of sad though; we never got to be pregnant together."
The laugh this time more easily, and Charles shakes his head at her. "You sometimes have the strangest thoughts."
"It's what I do."
Charles hugs her again, him the one to hold on for quite a while this round, and she doesn't protest.
It gets him through the rest of the day, having Raven there too, and having her at his other side when the others gather in the house later. They know this is serious, even if they know nothing else yet, and it shows on their faces even though most of them try to hide it. Erik is beside him, too, when they tell them. He doesn't leave it to his husband entirely, but he does let Erik do the bulk of the talking. Not because it's easier, but because Erik has always been better at sounding strong, and that is what they need right now.
All of them are upset. Of course they are. Hank wants to know why they didn't find him when they were in the infirmary anyway. They all want to know how long it will take to know what the tumor is for certain. Charles and Erik don't know that; not even Hank is sure.
Hank and Sean are quiet. Alex looks like he wants to punch something. Moira is somewhere in the middle. Kurt holds his mother's hand—an oddity for the rambunctious preteen—and stands wide-eyed. Ororo is upstairs with the twins. Jean, after watching the two younger children all day, finally has a break. She is downstairs with the rest of them, hugging her arms around her chest while her parents explain the new situation, but soon after hugs Charles and goes out to find Scott. Charles understands; she is still young, still learning to fully control the telepathy that is only a secondary mutation for her, and the charged emotions in the house are too much right now.
It's almost too much for Charles. Too many arms around him, so much worry at once, and concern, and anger and frustration too. Soon enough his head is pounding more fiercely then normal and they notice. They realize he's in pain and then they're too careful—handling him more gently, speaking more softly—and the emotions only double over on themselves and rather than help it makes it worse.
He doesn't want to ask them to leave. He wants them to be here. He wants to see them, and outwardly they're doing a wonderful job of handling this, but it's what's in their minds that presses at him—that he can't get away from.
"Charles?" Erik, at his elbow, an arm around his waist to steady him because he's bent over almost completely and he didn't realize it.
"I'm…" He wants to say 'all right' but he isn't. He tries to straighten again but he's too dizzy to do it.
"You're not okay." It's Hank's voice, and there's another hand on one of his arms now. "You should lie down."
It's the last thing Charles remembers before he wakes up on the floor in Erik's arms, with Raven hold one of his hands and Hank trying to keep everyone else from crowding.
"Is there anything else we can do?" Erik is asking worriedly.
"Not really," Hank answers. "Tumors in the brain can cause things like this sometimes, I think, like seizures and blackouts, or it may be his powers are more sensitive right now. It could be us…"
"Should we leave for now…?" Moira asks.
"No…" Charles clears his throat and tries again, a bit louder. "No."
They all look at him, finally realizing he's awake. A chorus of voices, asking if he's all right, but Hank once again takes the initiative to wave them into silence.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to frighten all of you."
Erik smooths his rumpled hair back and holds on a little tighter. "You couldn't help it."
Hank frowns. "It was probably all of us anyway, wasn't it?"
"Not all of it…" But they aren't buying that, and Charles lets out a breath. "It's better now."
"It would still be best of you got into bed though."
Erik nods in agreement with their son, and Charles wants to protest.
"But—" He still doesn't want them to leave.
"You need to rest, Charles," Erik says, firmly now.
"They're right," Raven adds.
"We'll be back tomorrow," Alex says quickly, seeming to be the first to pick up on the reason for his mother's protesting. But there's something else there, too, that Charles senses, and he isn't certain what it is but he knows that Alex needs to talk to him.
"Not all at once," Hank says in response to that.
Charles frowns. "No, it's all right, it was just the initial…I'm all right now. They can all be here whenever they please; it's fine."
"You're sure?"
Charles nods a bit, forgetting not to wince, and Hank looks skeptical but he doesn't counter, and he sighs.
"All right…"
Erik moves as if to pick him up, but Charles resists. "I can stand up; just help me," he grumbles. Raven releases his hand, and Hank helps her back to her feet before turning back to help Erik get Charles up. When he's up he leans toward the table instead of the bedroom door, and he knows Erik, Raven, and Hank, at the least, are going to complain when he takes an unsteady step for the nearest chair. "I'll lie down once everyone's gone home," he tells them stubbornly.
He knows that Erik and Hank are exchanging frustrated glances over his head, but they help him to the table anyway. They know he won't take no for an answer. Once he's sitting down everyone moves in to say good night for the evening, and he smiles at them because he loves them and because he doesn't want them to worry any more than they will anyway.
Sean and Moira leave together, Hank leaves with Raven and Kurt, and Alex is last but Charles doesn't let him leave.
"Alex, wait…what's wrong?" He can still feel it—something else pressuring the back of his son's mind—and Charles knows he won't sleep at all if he doesn't know what's bothering him.
Erik…would you mind going upstairs for now, perhaps? There is hesitation. I'm fine now. And I need to speak to Alex. I promise that I will go directly to bed afterwards.
A bit of an uncertain chuckle in his mind, and Erik silently agrees and retreats upstairs. Alex is hovering near the table.
"Alex?" Charles asks again.
The young man shrugs. "I uh…I mean, it's nothing. Or not…nothing, but I mean compared to this…" He lets out a breath, rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. "Nevermind. I'll figure it out. You have enough to deal with right now…"
Charles's eyebrows go up. "Perhaps that's true, but it doesn't mean I don't have time for you, Alex. I will always have time for you. Any of you. Now are you going to tell me what's the matter, or do I need to find out for myself? Sit down."
Alex still hesitates, but he takes the chair across the corner of the table, the closest one, and stares at the floor.
"You ought to know by now that you can tell me anything," Charles tells him gently. He's squinting a bit; his head still hurts, though it truly isn't as bad as it was before. He didn't lie to anyone. Compared to before he passed out, he's fine.
It's still several long moments before Alex says anything, and when he does it isn't what Charles expected at all. He doesn't know what he did expect, but it wasn't anything like this.
"They paired me." It's barely audible.
Charles blinks. "They…what?" He isn't sure he heard that correctly. With the system a bit backed up it's been long overdue, for both Sean and Alex, but Charles had hoped they would have a solution before it happened.
"I found out yesterday. They paired me. Not Sean yet…just me."
At first Charles can only look at him, because he knows now that there isn't anything wrong with his ears. "Who?" he asks quietly, because the irrationally hopeful part of him hopes it's someone Alex can care about, but the look on his son's face doesn't give him much cause for that hope.
Alex makes a face. "That's the problem. It's Angel. She's hated me since we were in school. I mean, okay, sure, I sat behind her and I pulled her hair a lot and picked at her wings when she couldn't kept them in, but I was like eight years old! I apologized later. I grew up; she didn't." He shakes his head. "I talked to her after they told us…she kind of made it clear in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of ever marrying me. Not that I was surprised."
"Oh, Alex…"
This is what he's feared from the beginning. This is what he has never wanted for any of his children—trapped in the sort of toxic marriage he's seen too much of here, or forced to produce children with someone they can't stand. Anything of the like.
"What am I supposed to do?" Alex questions, almost desperately.
Though they both know there isn't really an answer to that. He'll do what he's required to do, because the punishment otherwise is expulsion from the cities. None of the settlements that participate in the pairing system will take in anyone who is exiled for non-cooperation, and every settlement on their island of what used to be a country is part of it. No one knows much of what lies beyond, and it isn't plausible to get there anyhow.
After being matched, couples now have three months to come to a decision between themselves—to marry or not to, and other arrangements—before they're required to begin attempting to conceive. Alex has 89 days.
They trade this part of their freedom for protection, for somewhere to live and belong in this otherwise barren world.
Charles has long since wondered how worth it it really is.
He takes a deep breath, trying to give himself a moment more to figure out what on earth to say when he is just as upset.
"Beyond what you must…I suppose all you can do, really, is be kind to her, Alex. It's how your father won me over, after all. And it didn't take long. Granted, I didn't have any predisposition against him and we were married and living under the same roof, but…who's to say it can't still work? It may take longer, but you always have the option of marrying later." He shakes his head helplessly. "I'm so sorry, Alex. I wish there were more I could say."
Alex shrugs dejectedly. "I know there really isn't anything else to it. And maybe I should be talking to Dad—I'll have to talk to him anyway, eventually—but after I found out I kind of just wanted to talk to you."
If Charles knows anything, he knows that hearing such an admission from a young man Alex's age is something indeed.
"Why didn't you come sooner?"
"I wanted to come yesterday, but then you contacted us all and told us to come here this afternoon, and it sounded pretty serious, and I didn't want to bother you…and now this…"
Charles reaches across the corner of table between them and closes a hand over Alex's arm. "Maybe this is serious—what's happening just now, with me—but I never want you to feel like you can't talk me. Even if—" He falters momentarily, over what he means to say. "Even if this doesn't go the way we want it to…" He swallows. "I plan to be here for all of you in any way I can, until I can't anymore. You understand?"
Alex looks at him for a moment, a bit wide-eyed, before he looks down again and nods. "Yeah…" he says roughly.
And besides being here as long as he can manage, Charles doesn't plan to sit by quietly anymore.
Certainly if fixing this is the last thing he'll ever do.
He tells his husband as much, once Alex has left and Erik has come back downstairs they've both crawled into bed for the night. Erik is livid, of course, over what they've done to Alex, though it's happened to so many others over the years since the system began. He's angry, too, that they had no warning.
"Usually with what position I do have I hear about things like that one way or another beforehand—that's how I was able to help in Hank and Raven's case—but I never heard a word about Alex or the girl. It's almost like they made sure I didn't know, which I would believe," Erik growls.
"You think someone doesn't want you meddling in the assignment department's affairs again," Charles assesses flatly.
"That's exactly what I think."
But as touchy as the subject is, it's easier than talking about the next week of their lives, and what will happen after. It's easier than remembering that tomorrow begins the waiting, and that after the waiting comes the answer they're not sure they want to know.
"We have to find out who really makes the decisions," Charles muses. "Not the Council."
The Council that Erik is a small part of makes decisions within the city—schools, security, economy, building decisions, and anything else. The assignment department pairs, and makes adjustments to the rules by which matched pairs must operate, which the Council also votes on. Erik, as a minor, or junior member of the Council, but not an elder, can vote, but for him and the other junior members their votes only carry half as much weight as the votes of the elders. Erik has a bit more influence in general than most other junior members, because his powers are so valuable to the city, but that doesn't affect the strength of his vote.
But what no one knows is whose idea the pairing system was born of. No one knows who dictated its existence, or possibly continues to. Supposedly the Council could vote it down here, but that would not help the other cities that have their own Councils. And attempting to influence the Council here in that way has not done much good as of yet.
They need a larger movement—more people to stand up to protest. Or they need to find out if there is another power. Some person or group over all of the settlements. There must be, but if that information exists only the elders know it.
"You're right," Erik sighs. "Trying to do anything here…we could still try, but I don't know if we'd get anywhere. Everyone is too afraid of being tossed outside the walls for good. If there is anything higher, I guess that's where we have to go."
Charles nods in agreement against his husband's chest. Nothing else is going to happen tonight, but Erik is holding him closely.
"I don't plan to go anywhere until we've solved this, you know," he said quietly.
"You'd better not."
"But if something happens…"
"Don't. Not tonight, Charles. Please—"
Charles bites his lip at the pain in Erik's voice, but he pushes up to look him in the eyes. "No, I'm sorry; I need you to listen to me. I need you to promise me that if this goes badly…" He makes a vague motion toward his head. "If I'm not here I need to know you'll see this through. Do anything you can. Don't let them take our children's futures from them. Don't let them do it to anyone else. Promise me."
Erik's hand brushes across his cheek, lingering there. "I promise." And Charles doesn't have to read any part of his mind to know that he means it.
When Erik tugs him back for a kiss before stealing him close again, Charles goes willingly. "Get some sleep now," he says into Charles's hair.
And in Erik's arms, he's able to.
