Still not done! Lol. :) But anyway, I hope you like the chapter. Can't wait to hear from ya'll! Thanks so much!
Chapter 24
Twenty-Nine Years Ago
Sometimes it seems like it's always cold. Maybe it is, or maybe it's only the empty world and the other mutants Charles is traveling with. Most of them are cold and uninviting themselves. None of them really care about him. Most of the few who might, who are kind, have a child or children of their own and no time for him, really.
He's eleven, after, all. In this world, that's more than old enough to take care of himself. He's had to learn how.
Tonight they're camped in the shell of an old library, a treat really, in the tedium of every life. Of survival. In the mass of books that used to be here he's only found a few that aren't burned or torn or too badly soaked through from later rains to be readable, but that's to be expected. A few is better than nothing. It's new reading material, and he peruses the ones he knows he isn't interested enough in to take with him and leaves the two or three best ones for later. He puts them in the old bag he found a couple of years ago. It contains everything he owns.
Charles stays close enough to the fire the others build to be able to read, but far enough away to find some semblance of privacy. When he's too tired to read anymore he pulls farther into the shadows between the toppled shelves and tries to sleep. His stomach growls at him, complaining because he hasn't eaten much in the past few days. Food has been scarce. In the morning everyone will be up to scour what else is left of this town for anything that's here.
He isn't able to sleep anyway, so when he hears a sound in the darkness he sits up. He looks toward the fire and thinks everyone is there, so the sound that came from the other direction must have been something else. He hears it again, but this time it's closer to the fire. He thinks it's movement—someone walking, trying to stay quiet. Charles gets up just as quietly and creeps back toward the circle of other survivors around the warmth, and suddenly his heart is pounding.
Should he let them know there might be danger? Is that what it is? Sometimes more violent groups of survivors attack those they think they can easily steal from.
Charles is distracted from the fire, looking around nervously and trying to see through the darkness beyond to whatever might be there. He doesn't know anymore where the sounds came from or where whatever or whoever made them might be now.
He twists around when he hears the high-pitched scream, and sees one of the larger men hauling a figure into the light. "What are you doing here!" he's bellowing.
But what he has is only a small girl. She lands on her backside on the ground in front of him, and…in the firelight it's hard to tell, but her skin isn't a normal color. It's dark and textured, almost scaled, and her hair is bright orange. That much is clear. She's obviously a mutant child, no more than two or three and plainly undernourished, and he can feel her desperation and fear from here.
"She only saw the fire! She just wanted to be warm," Charles says quickly, hurrying back into the light himself.
The man glares at him, and then back at the girl. She's crying now; she doesn't know how to respond to the large man threatening her.
At least he seems to understand that she isn't a threat. The menacing scowl on his face slips a bit, but then he frowns. "We got enough people—get outta here, brat," he growls.
"She has nowhere else to go," Charles answers for her. "Her parents were human. They survived a while after the war, but they became sick eventually. They're dead now." The girl abruptly stops crying in surprise and looks at him instead of the man towering over her.
"We don't have the resources for another kid, and nobody's got the time, anyway. She's too young and she'll probly die anyway. She's what, two?"
The girl, instead of whimpering, surprises all of them by answering indignantly. "Am not! "'M three!"
Charles can't help but smile.. "See? She's three."
The man snorts. "That doesn't change anything. We're not taking her on."
"I'll be responsible for her."
Charles feels the eyes on him, all around him, sees the ones of the man in front of him narrow, but he doesn't care.
"Please. I'll watch her, I'll find food for her…none of you'll have to worry about her. I'll take responsibility for her," he repeats. He glances down at the girl again, and yellow eyes meet his and the dark lips try a tentative smile. He smiles back, and does what he can by way of his powers to help calm her.
The other man is shaking his head now. "Whatever."
He moves off, and Charles goes to the girl's side and helps her up and brings her to the edge of the circle of light from the fire—back toward his bag and his makeshift bed, but not so far as to take her away from the warmth. He looks her over, but sees no injuries, and all the while she's quiet.
Finally he looks her in the eyes, and the moment he does so she hugs him. He's knelt down to her eye level to examine her, and her arms end up tight around his neck.
"Oh! Uhm…ok…" He returns the embrace, and it isn't something he's used to anymore. Not since his parents died. It's…it's nice. "What's your name?" he asks when she pulls back.
She shakes her head, indicating that she doesn't know. Her only memories are the few he saw in her mind—bleary images of parents and what happened to them. Not even images, really. Just impressions.
"You don't know that you're really three either, do you?"
The girl shakes her head again, a small but impish grin on her face. Charles laughs a little.
"Well you'll need a name…"
He casts about in his mind, but can't thing of anything suitable. Then his gaze falls on a fallen, broken picture frame—cheap art from the library wall, illustrating something or other. Most of the words or gone but the bird illustrated there is clear and beautiful, even with it's dark color. A red ribbon in its beak, the color faded to orange, is now similar enough to the color of the girl's hair.
"What about Raven?" he asks. "Would you like that?"
The girl cocks her head for a moment, thinking, but then she shrugs and nods. She smiles again. "Okay."
Charles sits back against a wall, and she climbs onto his lap. "Okay. Raven it is then. And you're my sister now. How's that? I know I'd like to have sister. Would you like having a brother?"
Raven snuggles into his shoulder and nods against it, yawning. Charles holds onto her, feeling as if maybe life isn't so bad anymore. That maybe it won't seem so cold anymore.
"Good…" he whispers. "Then you're my sister and I'll take care of you. Always."
Now
"Isn't Erik coming? They're his kids too." Raven asks Charles the question when he follows her alone from the room he and Erik have been using.
It's late morning now, and she spent the night alone in the barracks with Jean and Brian. Hank was with the doctors, making certain everything was ready for the transfer of the embryos. She had a part to take in those preparations, but they did anything that required her before nightfall and her husband made sure she went off to rest.
She didn't sleep much. She isn't second-guessing her decision by any means, but that doesn't mean she isn't anxious about the idea of carrying someone else's children. Her brother's children. All she wants is for them to be safe, and she hopes that these doctors are as skilled as they say.
Charles blinks at her as the door closes behind him, as if maybe he didn't understand the question.
"Charles?"
He snaps out of it, blinking one last time and focusing on her. "Oh…sorry. No, Erik isn't going to be there. He uhm…" Charles glances back toward the room as they start down the corridor. "He felt this was something you and I should do alone."
"Alone plus half a dozen doctors."
Her brother chuckles, and already he seems better than yesterday. When he and Erik left the infirmary she was worried for him. He seemed so upset, and she could understand that.
"Are you all right?" Raven asks. She loops an arm through one of his and holds on as they walk, hoping for a truthful answer that's also one she wants to hear.
He pauses before he does answer, but she knows him and she knows that when he speaks he isn't lying. "I am," he says, tone reassuring. "I really am. In the end what I was upset about isn't the important part. I wanted to carry them myself, but really, as long as they have a chance at the life that would have been stolen from them otherwise…it doesn't matter." He lets out a breath. "They'll be born, and Erik and I will be able to raise them together." He draws closer and kisses the side of her head. "With help from the wonderful aunt who helped to bring them into the world, of course."
Raven turns soon enough to catch his cheek with a kiss before he's settled back to his previous distance, walking easily beside her. She's glad, too, to see that he's walking more steadily now. The days of rest and recovery have helped. Holding his arm closely she can feel the bit of unsteadiness that remains, but it isn't anything to be concerned about at the moment. Hopefully that too will be gone soon enough.
"That's right," Raven smiles playfully. "And don't you forget it."
Charles's smile becomes suddenly more serious, reflective. "No. No, I certainly won't."
Raven pushes out an arm to bring them both to a stop in the empty corridor, and turns to hug him.
"I don't know how we can ever repay you for this," Charles says softly. "It isn't only the doing it. I know you and Hank want more children of your own, and this will take time—"
"You don't have to worry about that." She pulls back, and tugs him over by the wall even though there's no one in sight. "There's something you need to know. Hank and I have known for a while, but with everything that's happened the last few months, it didn't seem like the time to say anything…"
"What are you talking about?"
Raven shrugs. "It's…well it's nothing anybody needed to worry about right now. Or at all, really. Just some research Hank has been doing. You know I've always been even more unusual than most mutants—just look at me. We were curious about a few things and he started helping me to look into it after we got married. The most significant discovery seems to be that it looks like I'm aging more slowly than most people. Somewhere around half as fast."
Charles just stares at her, but now his hands come up to grip her arms. "What? I don't understand."
"I've always looked young. Maybe my skin is different and it's hard to compare, but it's still noticeable. Did you never think about it?"
"Not really…some people just do. I never thought—"
"I didn't either, but that's what we found." She shrugs again. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is you don't have to worry about me wasting any time. Apparently I've got plenty of it. Hank and I can have more children of their own whenever we want to."
Charles is frowning now. "Yes but…but won't that be…strange? Later?"
Raven winces once, but she shakes her head. "I don't know. It doesn't matter. I mean…we love each other, and it's not like I'm not aging at all. I've got almost ten years on him to start with, and besides that any difference later will be harder to tell because I'm so different anyway. And we live in a mutant society now. We'll be understood, just like you and Erik have always been accepted—not that it would matter to us if we weren't."
Her brother's sudden concern seems to abate. "I take it you've already talked about all of this then?"
"Quite a lot, actually." Raven tugs him back into motion, and they continue on their way. "We'll be fine, Charles. All I needed you to take away from that is not to worry about me, or us, or how me doing this might affect any of it. It won't."
Charles relaxes now, walking with her easily again. "You're right; that does help. I couldn't stop thinking what this could mean for you…"
"It means I love my brother and his husband, and I'm doing this because I want to," Raven smiles.
This time it's Charles who stops them again and pulls her into a tight embrace. "That doesn't change how much we'll owe you."
"That's ridiculous. I thought we'd been over that? This is all I can do for you…after everything you did when you found me. I'd have been dead without you."
"I don't know about that; you've always been resourceful." He smiles, but then he sighs and looks in the direction they've been walking. "Well…I suppose we should go on then, if you're ready."
Raven finds her brother's hand and squeezes. "I'm ready whenever you are."
Moira stays at the house with Ororo to help take care of Bobby and Kitty and Lorna while their parents are gone, and Alex and Sean and Logan stop by regularly to check on them. Sean and Alex, really, rarely leave but to find their room at the apartments to sleep at night. They're all anxious for any word of when the others will make it back home, and of what's happening—what will happen.
They know things are going to be different now. They just don't know how quickly things are going to change, or exactly how it's going to be done.
Kurt goes back and forth on his own, delivering messages, and Scott stops by when he can to ask if they know when Jean will be back.
Moira enjoys tending to Lorna, and playing with Bobby and Kitty. She can't help noticing, too, that sometimes when she's doing so Sean is watching her. Smiling. It sends a strange thrill up her spine, and she can't help hoping that the pairing system will be eradicated quickly.
They're old enough to be married now. They're ready to have a family. They've dreamed about it. But before it never seemed as if they would be allowed to have it—not without leaving the city. They thought about that, too. They hadn't told Erik and Charles, before any of this happened they'd been seriously considering leaving with Logan, whenever he decided to go. It wouldn't have been long before they were forced to say something.
Now they don't have to leave. It's almost doesn't seem real.
"How long do you think it'll take?" Moira asks, more than once.
Sean shrugs and pulls her closer into his arms. The back yard is nearly dark, the sun recently set. The small garden is still just visible, the plants barely healthy enough to bare any produce. With everything that's happened in recent months, she knows it hasn't gotten as much attention as it should have. But it's holding on.
"Does it matter?" Sean asks. "It'll happen. It has to, now. And I'll wait as long as I need to."
Moira smiles when he tries to kiss her, but another thought interrupts them. A pang in her chest makes her pulls back, wondering if all of this is really as wonderful as it seems. "What if it happens quickly? What if we're married this time next month?"
"What about it?"
"I mean…we've always talked about it before like it was something that could never happen anyway, but…"
"But what?"
She lets out a small breath. "I know you want to marry me…but have you thought about the fact that if we have children—"
"Of course we'll have kids."
"That some of them may be human?"
Sean frowns at her. "What kind of question is that? Why does it matter?"
"It matters to someone, or the laws we've been living under wouldn't exist."
"Moira, it mattered to Shaw, and he's dead. Not everyone thinks that way."
"Maybe not, but enough of the people here have bought into it, and…and even if those laws are gone tomorrow, there are still going to be those that think that way. If we get married…the mutant population of this world now may be accepting of just about everything else, but they may not accept that. They may let us do it, but that doesn't mean they'll be happy about it."
He shrugs. "Nobody else has to be happy about it. The people we care about will be, and that's all that really matters, isn't it?"
Moira swallows. "That's all that matters to me…but I had to ask."
This time when Sean kisses her she doesn't stop it. "Well, don't worry about it. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I love you, and I'm marrying you, and we can have as many kids as you want."
They're in the back yard until Ororo comes looking for them, to tell them that Kurt's been by to let them know that everyone else will be home tomorrow. Reluctantly they go in then, and Sean leaves. Moira goes upstairs to help Ororo put the children to bed, and she can't stop smiling.
The next morning Kurt brings Logan back to the compound so that he can drive Charles and Erik and the others still there back home to the settlement, so Nicole or anyone else won't need to leave to bring them. With the underground compound and its nearby village now the center of the changes radiating through the world's surviving population, everyone is needed.
The council of the village and the other leaders who were not Shaw loyalists are beginning to coordinate what looks to turn into a massive effort. Though the councils of every settlement have radios, it's still much easier to establish easy contact with Shaw's other bases. One by one, as those who had no love for the man take control of the establishments in response to news of his death, they join the cause. They plan to more widely distribute the extra radios and vehicles and other technology available at the bases to the settlements and cities.
It's a meager beginning, but it's something. It's a way to start in bringing civilization back.
Erik has helped quite a bit in the days they've stayed at the compound, at Charles's urging, and when Charles was strong enough he began to accompany his husband to some of the meetings. He was surprised to find his mind racing, often offering suggestions the local leaders actually found worthwhile.
It was Charles who suggested distributing any saved books, too, to smaller settlements and others that don't have the collection their own home does. Their city is unusual, really, in having established a library, and as small as their school system is it's one of the better run. They knew it was true in a limited capacity from knowledge of the few surrounding settlements, but those at the compound who know more tell them that particular truth is, unfortunately, widespread. Charles suggested immediately that education be one of the first things they should focus on, and everyone seemed to agree.
The council there is sorry to see Erik and Charles go, and it isn't that they don't want to help more. Charles is sure they will. But right now they want nothing more than to be home.
Charles wants to be under his own roof again, in their own bed, with Erik's arms around him…
Maybe it's only been a little over two weeks or so, but so much has happened that it feels like they've been away forever.
He wants to curl up at his husband's side and wish the world away on the ride back home, but Raven and Hank and Jean and Brian are with them. He wouldn't want them to misread the action—wouldn't want them to worry about him. He really is all right, but he knows it's difficult for any of them to believe that right now.
Yes, there will be more to deal with. The emotional fallout likely isn't over—for any of them really. Charles knows, too, that everything that's happened to him may leave him physical affected for the rest of his life. He's known that since he woke in his father's small room in Shaw's underground complex.
But…it doesn't matter. None of it does. It's over now. He and Erik have each other, they have their children, they even have a father once thought lost and…he's all right.
"It's bigger than I thought," Brian says, as the city comes into view. "I'd heard so much about the other settlements, but I guess I wasn't sure how much was really possible in the time since the war."
"For people without the technology Shaw kept to himself, you mean," Erik clarifies.
"Right. I guess that's as good a way to put it as any."
"Well, you also have to remember that most of us are mutants. Many mutations are often more than suitable substitutes for technology," Charles says. "Granted, those things can't be shared as well technology can, but we've done what we could."
"You certainly have…" Brian is craning his neck for a better view. "Half of those walls…the ones that aren't stone, are they metal?"
"They are, and much of it my handiwork. Not that I'm necessarily proud of it," Erik answers, clear distaste in his tone.
Erik?
"What do you mean? What is it, Dad?" Hank asks.
"Where do you think the orders to build better walls really came from? I was frustrated with the council, but more likely than not it was word handed down from Shaw. It must have been what HE wanted—for the settlements to have the best barriers they could. To keep out humans, to keep the bloodlines how he wanted them, to make us easier to control…any number of reasons."
Jean huffs quietly. "It would make sense, from his point of view."
Charles leans a little closer into his husband's shoulder. You couldn't have known then, and you didn't have a choice. You didn't like it even then, and I'm glad you didn't, but you had me and the children to think about. You weren't going to let them turn us out.
No…I couldn't have let that happen, Erik agrees silently.
Logan stops the truck outside the gates when they reach them. "All ashore that's going ashore," he calls from the front. Everyone but Brian looks at him strangely, and he shakes his head. "Never mind. We're here."
They hope to get inside and back to the house relatively unnoticed, but to no avail. When Erik opens one of the gates most of the council is waiting on the other side. They know what's happened, of course, as the other settlements do. They probably know more, now that Logan and Scott and several of the other children have already been home for days.
At first it's unclear what reaction they've had to the news, but then Charles realizes that Ororo and other children are there too, coming forward now. Moira loses her grips on the twins' hands and Bobby and Kitty collide with their parents' legs. Charles, taken by surprise and still not as strong as he could be, nearly topples. Erik and Raven catch him, steady him.
Everyone else is still silent.
What's going on? Charles wonders, the thought directed to those that were here these last few days.
I think they're all still a little shell-shocked, Logan answers. But I don't know why they're here.
A man at the head of the gathered group—one of the oldest of the council's senior members—steps forward then, after Charles and Erik have had a chance to hug their children. Charles feels the need to meet him in the middle, and Erik stays at his side.
"Mr. Gerrow?" Charles asks quietly.
The older man just studies him, though Charles knows he isn't much to study right now—weight lost, skin still pale and drawn, for the most part. He feels better, but he doesn't so much look it yet. The hat covering his head probably doesn't make it any less obvious that his hair is gone, either.
"We have you to thank, then," Gerrow finally says. And his gaze sweeps Charles and Erik and the children, Logan…Scott has appeared at Jean's side, too. "All of you." He pauses. "I don't know if any of the other settlements have done so yet, but we've told the people the truth."
Charles glances back at Logan, raising an eyebrow. That you failed to mention. The other mutant only shrugs, if sheepishly.
It seems they've unknowingly returned home heroes.
Erik gathers his wits and answers first. "Good…they needed to know who was really controlling them. They deserve to know."
Gerrow nods. "So many years all I wanted to do was tell them…but I couldn't, Not if I wanted to keep them safe. We had to lie, to keep all of you safe. Don't you understand?"
"You couldn't stand up to him?" Erik shoots back. His voice is harder now.
Erik…
The old man sighs. "We were afraid. We were the oldest and wisest of the survivors of a catastrophe that left so few, and still we were afraid. Who were we to turn down what help we could find? By the time we realized that we had signed away our freedom it was too late." He glances back at the gathered council, and the civilians crowding in behind them. "But they know the truth now. And they know who they have to thank for giving their freedom back to them."
Charles doesn't want Erik to lose his temper, but what he meant…it isn't untrue. "It didn't have to be us," Charles says then.
"I know," Gerrow sighs. "Maybe many of the others won't admit it, but I will—that maybe we could have done something if we'd tried. We didn't, and you and your family have paid the price for it. All of our children have paid the price. Now we have no way to thank you."
Charles is suddenly very, very tired. "You don't have to. We only did what had to be done. Please, just…let us go home in peace." The older council member seems willing to do that, but the rest of the crowd is clamoring, wanting to know more, perhaps.
But Kurt is there, too, and at his signal Charles lets the others know to hold hands. A moment later they're all home—Moira and Logan and Scott included—and the main room of the house is a bit crowded with all of them, but that's okay. Kurt sits down immediately in the nearest chair, but he seems fine. Maybe there were a lot of them, but they've barely gone halfway across the town.
Charles lets out a heavy breath, and Erik's arms wrap around him from the side. He turns to press his forehead into his husband's chest for a long few moments. When he pulls away it's only to sit, and Erik's hand stays on his shoulder. He's grateful for the connection.
"We can't really blame them," Charles says at last, the first words in the silent room. "Maybe not all of them are as pure of heart, but overall they really did do it to protect us—everyone in the city. Gerrow wasn't lying. They did all of it for us."
He knows that won't change the past or any of the hurt, but it's true.
