December 15th, 1962

Erik entered the mansion through the door nearest Charles' room, slipping in. It was later in the evening, much later than he usually came, but he was trying harder to not be noticed by both sides.

Charles sensed him and excused himself from where he was overseeing some decorating in order to meet Erik in the hall to his rooms.

"Charles," he said, voice warming slightly and he paused. "You have tinsel in your hair."

"Hello Erik. I," he blinked, "What?"

"Tinsel," Erik said, and reached forward to flick it off. "In your hair."

Charles laughed at that, "Oh, I hadn't realized. I thought I'd gotten it all out."

The corners of Erik's mouth twitched up. "It made you look quite charming."

"Why thank you." He motioned to the rooms, "Shall we?"

"If you like," Erik replied, not offering to help with decorating, though he almost wanted to.

Charles considered for a long moment, "One minute." He closed his eyes, focusing on asking the students if they would be willing for another pair of hands helping with the decorating. Erik frowned down at him.

Charles opened his eyes again, "If you would like, we're welcome to join them in finishing up the interior decorating."

For a long moment, Erik just stared down at him. "Really now. I thought your students were still, well, leery of me to say the least."

"They're still wary, but Alex just told me you can join them. I call that progress."

"That is," Erik agreed. "If you're sure..."

"Only if you want to, Erik."

He nodded. "Certainly, I suppose. So, you're decorating the mansion for Christmas?"

Charles nodded, "Yes. I haven't been here for Christmas for a few years, but it's fuller now than it was then. I felt it appropriate that we celebrate."

Erik nodded, following him back the way he's come. "Yes. It... seems like a good plan."

He glanced up, "Something on your mind, my friend?"

"Several, but I'm not entirely sure what to say about any of them."

Charles rolled into the foyer looking over the garlands that Sean was stringing around the banisters. The redhead looked up as the two older men came in. He offered his professor a smile, his expression growing wary, but amiable enough, as he glanced at Erik.

Erik inclined his head at him, looking around. "It looks... nice," he said, Hank looking at him from around the tree he was starting to put ornaments on.

Alex looked up from the ornament box, handing Hank one that looked like it had come from the mid-Victorian era. He glanced from Charles to Erik and finally rose, hesitating for a moment, "I was going to go make some hot cocoa. I know Sean wants some, how about the rest of you?"

Hank offered him a smile and nodded and Erik inclined his head. Charles nodded slightly and Alex slipped out of the room, heading to get the water to boil and the chocolate made.

Erik watched him go and glanced over the mostly empty tree. "That's a very tall tree you have there," he remarked.

"We've enough ornaments for it, and as you can see it's still shy of the ceiling with enough room for a topper," Charles replied, rolling his chair over to the boxes of ornaments, some of which he couldn't remember seeing since before his father died.

Erik smiled faintly. "You do seem to have enough ornaments, that's true." He considered them for a moment, the metal of their hangers humming in his mind. "Do you have any idea how to get them up there, and which ones you'd prefer on top?"

"Well, there's a ladder in the garage, but I don't believe it's seen use in quite some time. At the moment I haven't any idea where any particular ornament should hang. I've been leaving that to Alex and Hank mostly," the telepath smiled slightly, considering the ornament he'd picked up from the box on the coffee table.

Erik glanced over at Hank, who only shrugged at him, before floating a few of the ornaments up by their hangers, putting them on the higher branches.

Charles watched him quietly, holding out the ornament he held in his hand, "If you would, Erik?" Erik glanced at him before floating it up as well.

Alex came in a few minutes later, setting the tray with the five hot chocolates on the coffee table, some peppermint sticks he'd managed to find were next to the mugs in case anyone wanted them. He picked up his mug and hesitated before picking up another and offering it to Hank quietly. Hank accepted it with a smile, still working on the lower branches as Erik filled the top half of the tree.

Alex turned to the boxes of decorations, seeing if there was anything besides the tree decorations and the garlands that Sean had apparently just finished with. The redhead came into the room, picked up a mug of cocoa and a peppermint stick and knelt to join Alex.

For the moment Erik was more focused on the ornaments than the hot chocolate, but Hank stepped back by the Professor's chair, sipping his own cup and watching the others for a moment.

Charles glanced up at his student, A penny for your thoughts?

It's... homey, Hank replied. I'm not sure any of us are used to that.

Sean seems to be mostly at home in this sort of atmosphere. If a bit wary of Erik, though I can't fault any of you for that.

Alright, Sean looks fine. I know I'm not, Alex doesn't look like it, Erik certainly looks like he's not sure what to do with it, and honestly I wonder the last time you celebrated Christmas like this.

I decorate every year. Charles replied as he looked at the others, and no, I don't suppose Alex would be from what I know of him. And Erik...oh.

Oh? Hank asked, taking a sip and still watching the others. And no, from what Alex's said of his... foster parents I don't believe this was normal fare.

Charles stirred his chocolate with one of the peppermint sticks, just enough to add a faint taste before setting the hard candy aside, I highly doubt Erik has ever celebrated Christmas before.

Hank's brows rose slightly, and Erik glanced over at him from where he was trying to get the star in place on top of the tree. Oh?

The telepath offered Erik a smile before taking a sip of his drink. He hesitated before answering Hank, He's Jewish.

Hank blinked. He's German I thou—oh. Oh. Well then.

Charles nodded almost imperceptibly, He had more than one reason to hate Shaw so passionately.

Hank took another sip of the drink as Erik came over, finally picking up his own cup. He makes more sense now. Doesn't mean I want to forgive him anything, but he makes a whole hell of a lot more sense now.

Forgiveness takes time, understanding helps though.

Hank sighed and nodded slightly as Erik approached, arching a brow at both of them. "Having a good conversation?" Hank shrugged, slipping off to finish the lower branches.

Charles offered him a bright smile, "Actually, yes. How are you?"

"Fine," Erik replied, leaning against the table and giving the tree a slightly strange look.

The telepath looked up at him, but turned his attention to Sean as the teen looked up, "Professor do you have a-"

"It's likely there's still a box in the attic," Charles answered.

The redhead was on his feet and headed out of the room almost before the man finished.

Erik blinked at that. "You're enjoying not having to hide your powers, aren't you?"

"I..." He grinned a bit sheepishly, "Perhaps a little."

Erik shook his head, smiling a bit fondly.

"Well, I think this is about finished?" He glanced at Alex and Hank.

Alex nodded slightly, withdrawing a wreath frame and blinking in confusion at it.

Hank reached over. "It's to make a wreath," he said. "Would you like to?"

Alex handed it over, shrugging. "I wouldn't know how," he finally admitted.

"Well, make one in the way of showing you," Hank said with a shrug and looked at the others. "Do we want a wreath?"

Charles nodded slightly, "A wreath is always a nice addition to the front door."

Grinning, Hank meandered off to start dealing with that. Alex hesitated before rising and following him, casting a wary glance at Erik as he left.

"Well, he didn't storm out this time," Erik remarked, watching him go

"Very true. It's progress," Charles agreed. He glanced up at the German, "Shall we?"

Erik nodded, giving the tree and everything one last look before turning and heading toward Charles' room.

Charles followed him, waiting until they were in his room before speaking softly, "I appear to not have really been thinking again."

"Oh?" Erik asked, leaning against the desk.

He paused for another moment, changing his question, "What are you doing for the holidays?"

"That hardly explains your inability to think things through, but I've made no plans."

"Well...I..." He couldn't find a way to say it or ask it without seeming more than a tad insensitive and so fell silent again.

"What is it Charles?"

"When does Hanukkah start, Erik?"

Erik gave him a long look. "I don't know," he replied, voice turning slightly cold.

Charles pursed his lips rather than flinch at the tone, "I was curious, Erik. That's all."

Erik sighed and looked away. "That... memory you saw, before the missile crisis... that was the last time I paid the holiday any attention."

"I...oh. I see."

Erik shrugged. "It's nothing, Charles. Did you really expect me to keep it up? I'm sure I've broken the majority of the Torah's laws by this point." Not that he even remembered most of them.

"There's a difference between celebrating a holiday and practicing the religion." He paused, realizing that may be his own sensibility rather than one some would share.

Erik gave him another long look. "Not that one. At least not after that."

Charles wet his lips, he really was incapable of thinking before speaking that evening. He nodded very slightly, "I suppose that's true..."

Erik shook his head. "Look, it's not your fault. But I'm not inclined to dredge up that ghost this year, if ever."

"Fair enough. I am sorry I didn't think before bringing it up."

Erik shrugged again. "So, no, there are no plans."

"Well, we...we could see about making some? If you like of course."

"I would... hardly be adverse."

Charles glanced toward the couch, "How long can you stay?"

Erik shifted. "Last I left the team they were attempting to finish of the entire alcohol stock. As long as I like by tomorrow morning."

A brow arched in response to that, "Well, that sounds...thrilling."

"Which part?" Erik asked, smirking.

"Your team drunk. The other part of that sounds very much like something to look forward to."

"Yes, rather thrilling. You'll notice I'm not there. But are you now?"

"Looking forward to you staying for a while? Very much so."

Erik shifted from where he was leaning against the desk. "Can I stay the night? I like the idea of seeing you first thing in the morning."

"I..." Charles considered briefly before offering Erik a gentle smile, "I would like that."

"Not that," Erik shrugged, "we have to do anything. Just... I would like to stay."

The telepath nodded, "I would love for you to stay."

Erik offered him a grin. "Well, we have time then."

Charles smiled a bit at that, "Good."

"A chess match?" Erik asked.

"Chess sounds like a wonderful idea." He motioned to the chess table to one side of the room, "Shall we?"

Erik moved over, making sure the pieces were in the right places before sitting.

The smaller man, rolled his chair over so he was facing Erik across the table, "your start I believe."

Erik moved the piece out. "It occurs to me, you usually choose black. Why is that?"

Charles moved a piece, "There's a lot to be said about patience. And a great deal to be seen about a person by how they start a game."

"Rather," Erik replied, moving a piece in return and settling into the rhythm of the game.

Charles allowed the silence to lengthen for a few moves before he spoke again, "Sean came to me a few days ago with an interesting proposal."

"Oh?" Erik asked.

"Well, you know I've been meaning to turn the estate into a school, there's more than enough room and the grounds go on for miles—far enough that fliers would be able to practice without fear of discovery—the problem is locating them. Which of course means rebuilding Cerebro...Which means the installation of the subbasements."

"Yes," Erik said slowly.

"I've been finding maps pre-dating the Civil War which seem to evidence a veritable warren of tunnels under the estate grounds that could be used as a basis. With Alex's power it could be viable to start excavations—my one concern is the precision required in some places. The difficulty is the actual construction."

"Yes, that would be rather difficult," Erik said, moving another piece.

Charles moved a pawn out, "Would you be willing to help with that?"

That brought the German up short for a moment. "Are you sure you want to ask me?"

"I wouldn't have if I wasn't."

"I suppose not," Erik murmured, looking down at the board. "I... would give you any help you asked of, so long as the times aren't too apparent."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "Thank you. It won't be for a while yet, we still need to see if it's even a viable plan at this point."

Erik nodded. "Just let me know."

"I will. How are things going for you?"

Erik shrugged. "Things are going well enough. It seems like they're settling as well."

"Good to hear. No fear of knives or poison then?"

"Well, the knives were long out. And the poison is getting less likely from most quarters, yes."

"Good. I'm glad."

Erik nodded, moving another piece. "Would you like me to take anything to Raven for you?"

"At the moment I can't think of anything."

"For the holidays?"

"I haven't anything yet for her. Though..." He considered, "There are a couple of ornaments she always liked."

Erik paused and nodded. "I did finally tell her I was coming to see you."

He looked up, his eyes lightening perhaps more than he intended, "Oh?"

"She can be quite obstinate," he replied. "I blame your bad influence entirely."

Charles laughed quietly at that, "She's always been like that."

"Sure she has," Erik smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "I still blame you."

"I take pride in the fact that I encouraged it, but she had the starting of that stubborn streak when I met her."

"So, I'm assuming you aren't blood siblings then."

"Hm? Oh, no. I found her in the kitchen stealing food from the refrigerator when we were both quite young. She was using my mother's form."

Erik blinked and couldn't help a laugh at that. "Wait, really?"

Charles smiled at the memory, "Yes, pearls and all. She'd seen her in a photograph hanging nearby and figured it was a good choice. Might have worked too if not for two things: I'm a telepath and my mother wouldn't have been caught dead in that kitchen."

Erik arched a brow at that, filing it away slightly. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your mother?"

He shrugged, "Not much to say really. She was a beautiful woman."

"Surely you have more memories of your mother?" Erik protested softly.

He thought for a moment before nodding, rolling his chair back to locate something from his desk and returning with the photograph that had hung in the kitchen the night he had met Raven, "I remember when this was taken. It was a beautiful day. Father took it. I remember them both being very happy to be there, I think the weather played some part in that. We ended up at the far end of the lawn for a picnic...or as close as we got to one I suppose."

Erik smiled at the picture. "There. How often do you remember that memory?"

"What do you mean?"

"How often do you think about your mother fondly?" Erik asked.

"Often enough," he hedged. "Why all of the questions?"

Erik paused, moved his piece and shrugged. "You helped me remember something about my mother I'd forgotten. I'm just curious about you I suppose."

Charles moved one of his knights, "Honestly I haven't many memories of her. She was often distant, busy with her social commitments."

"I'm sorry," Erik said softly. "On the other hand, at least you have a few."

He shrugged very slightly, "It was what it was." His gaze swept over Erik's face, but he didn't say the next thing that followed in his mind.

"What is it, Charles?"

"Hm? Oh...nothing."

"Alright," Erik said and considered the board again.

"What was your father like?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Erik paused. "He was... careworn. Intelligent, a businessman. Of course, by the time I was born the Nazi party was already in power and by the time I can remember him... he was worn down from pain. But he tried. He was the one to teach me chess as a child. He didn't survive the camps either."

Charles dropped his gaze to the board, nodding very slightly.

Erik looked away and back to the board. "I've never heard you discuss your father except for the picture," Erik said, voice quiet.

The telepath smiled sadly at that, "He was a nuclear scientist. A gentle man. He loved my mother far beyond what she deserved some days. It didn't seem to matter how busy he was, he always had time to listen. He loved Raven for the little time he knew her. He died in an accident just after I turned eleven."

"He sounds rather wonderful, as far as fathers go," Erik said.

Charles nodded, "He was."

"I'm sorry."

"It was what it was," he repeated with a shrug.

"Still," Erik shrugged. "Check."

He moved his king out of danger, "Well then."

"Well, we've walked on eggs over holidays and parents," Erik replied, moving another piece. "Any other topic one would let to get out there?" He was mostly teasing.

That earned a faint laugh, "Well, fractionally less eggshell-like, I'm beginning to regain some feeling in my legs. It hasn't happened much outside of the tests, but it's progress."

Erik stopped and slowly looked Charles over. "Good," he said, voice low.

Charles sighed, "You really shouldn't hold onto this..."

Erik's look changed slightly. "I am, and I'm not. There are a variety of reasons I'd like you to regain your legs."

One brow arched at that, but the telepath nodded. Erik swallowed, moving another piece. Charles countered it, "Check."

The German moved his piece out of danger.

The game continued mostly in silence for a while, the smaller man unable to find anything he wished to say at the moment and not finding the lack of conversation uncomfortable.

Erik settled back, not enjoying the silence quite as much, but surprisingly comfortable with it. The game ended finally, and he glanced up.

Charles looked up as well, "Hm?" Erik smiled at him fondly and shook his head. Charles glanced toward the clock, "Goodness, it's gotten late."

Erik's eyes turned toward the clock and back, smiling fondly at him. "It has."

"Shall we?" He asked quietly, offering a gentle smile, his gaze drifting to the bedroom attached to the room they were in.

The taller paused for a very long moment. "If you like."

Charles studied him for a moment before nodding, "It's been another long day."

"You have a lot of those," Erik said, rising and moving over.

"Well, I've a lot that needs to be done in any given twenty-four hour period."

"You do," Erik agreed, entering the bedroom and glancing around. "But you do need to relax too."

Charles entered behind him, "I do relax." His gaze swept over the room. It was beginning to more closely resemble his old chambers, but there was still something odd about sleeping in rooms other than the ones he had been in his whole life.

Turning, Erik sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Charles. "Good."

The telepath wheeled over to the dresser, glancing back at the other, "I might be able to find pajamas that will fit you." He hesitated, "Though the clothes you left here are still upstairs. I haven't been able to get up there and I don't believe the boys have been in your room since then either."

Erik swallowed hard suddenly. "I hadn't even thought of that," he murmured. He was too used to abandoning possessions along the way to think about recovering them.

Charles glanced away, opening one of the drawers to locate his own nightclothes. "So, if you wish for them, they're still in your old room."

"You're assuming I actually own nightclothes, aren't you?"

"I..." That earned him another glance. The telepath just blinked at him, "You don't?"

"It's not particularly practical when you own one suitcase and travel the globe," Erik replied.

"Oh. No, I don't suppose it would be..." he turned back to the dresser, hoping to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

Erik raised a brow at that and shrugged.

Charles withdrew his own nightclothes, hesitating for a long moment. It was a major struggle to deal with them on his own, to the point that he would forgo them occasionally, but he wasn't certain he should ask Erik to help him with them.

Erik looked him over. "Would you like help?" he asked softly.

He closed his blue eyes, struggling with the answer for another long moment before nodding, "Please."

Erik rose, coming over. "It's no trouble, Charles," he murmured.

He sighed, "I know. I just hate feeling helpless."

The taller frowned and ran a hand through Charles' hair. "You're not helpless," he said. "But I know."

Charles leaned into the touch for a moment before allowing the other man to help him change.

Erik kept his movements quick, trying not to dwell on changing the other.

Once that was finished, Charles drew back as best he could, murmuring, "Thank you..."

"Of course," Erik murmured and finally allowed himself to lean over and kiss Charles lightly.

The telepath hesitated, but leaned up into the kiss after a moment.

"Is something the matter?" Erik asked softly.

"No, everything's fine."

Nodding, Erik leaned forward again slightly.

Charles' hand came to rest on Erik's cheek as he leaned up as much as he could to meet the other.

Erik reached down, pulling him up higher, and picking him up finally, holding him in his arms.

Charles startled at that, but didn't break the kiss even as he mentally protested. I am quite capable of moving from the chair to the bed, Erik...

"You're more than capable," Erik replied, pulling back slightly. "But I want to do this."

The telepath frowned, but finally nodded, "Alright..."

Erik set him on the bed and followed, nuzzling slightly against his shoulder.

He smiled faintly in response, his other hand coming up to run over the German's hair.

Erik smiled faintly. "I... do love you, Charles."

Charles tilted his head enough to kiss the other man lightly, "And I you, Erik."

Erik hummed softly against the kiss. The telepath's hand shifted so he could trace his thumb over Erik's cheekbone. Erik tilted his head into the touch, arms wrapping around Charles' waist and holding him. Charles drew back slightly from the kiss, leaning his head on Erik's shoulder. One of Erik's hands slipped up his back to gently stroke his hair. He leaned into the touch, the comfort of the other's arms around him soothing. He settled an arm over Erik's waist, even as he blinked slowly, trying to keep himself awake a bit longer.

"Go to sleep," Erik murmured.

"I..." Charles nodded finally. "You too," he murmured drowsily.

"No worries," Erik said, kissing the top of his head slightly. "I don't think I could stay up if I wanted to."

"Good." He finally settled down, allowing himself to drift off.

Erik drifted off shortly afterward, though about the middle of the night something stirred him from that sleep.

Charles made a quiet noise of pain in his sleep. Mentally he was screaming. The pain from the coin throbbed in his mind again—the ache that had followed Shaw's death. It was the end of the day on the beach, with one grave exception—the missiles. He could feel the minds of the men on the ships as they fell to nothingness. He hadn't been able to stop it. He hadn't been able to save them. He had waited too long. The deaths echoed in his already reeling mind as the bullet entered his back, pain racing up his spine as his legs collapsed.

Erik blinked sleep from his eyes, getting random flashes and overwhelming pain being streamed directly into his mind. It took him a moment to register where he was, before shaking Charles hard.

The telepath startled awake, his eyes wide as he tried to place his surroundings. It took him a minute, the warmth next to him unfamiliar and disorienting. "E-Erik?"

"Yes," he said, voice soft. "Calm your mind, Charles."

The young professor drew a deep breath carefully pulling the memory of his dream back behind his shields, concentrating on calming his own mind before sending out a similar calm to any other minds he had effected.

Erik frowned down slightly at that. "How often?"

"What?"

"How often do you have nightmares?" Specifically that one?

"Nightmares aren't infrequent. Every few nights, sometimes more sometimes less. It depends on the day and how the week has been."

Erik took a breath, smoothing Charles' hair back. "And how often does that particular one feature?"

He hesitated, "That particular one... shows up in variants. It's recurrent, but it's not the most frequent."

Erik took a deep breath.

Charles finally looked up, his hand moving to rest on the other man's cheek, "Are you alright?"

"No," he replied, honestly. "But I will be."

"I am sorry about that. I don't mean to project those."

Erik shook his head slightly. "I'm... sorry you have them."

"I've had nightmares for years. These will fade with time, just as those did."

"Until you find something new to replace them with?" Erik asked.

"That could be a very long time, and these will still fade," he spoke with more confidence than he felt on the matter.

Erik took a breath, pressing a kiss on the top of Charles' head.

Charles turned his face to Erik's chest, "Thank you."

"For?" he asked, voice wavering more than he'd like.

"Being here. I'm sorry you had to see that, but...it's a comfort to have someone there when waking from it."

Erik let out a long breath. I want to be here every night.

"I..." I wish you could be.

The taller gathered him closer to his chest, holding on tighter. Charles...

The telepath closed his eyes again, one hand resting on Erik's chest, the other wrapped around his waist, Oh, Erik.

Erik took in one breath, and let another out. "I love you," he murmured against Charles' hair.

"I love you too. So much."

Erik tightened his grip slightly. "We're a mess."

"I..." He smiled bitterly, "Yes, we are. But there isn't anything we can do about that."

"No," Erik agreed. "Can you go back to sleep tonight?"

"I think so? What time is it?"

"I haven't checked," he said and lifted his head slightly. "Four ten."

"The alarm goes off in a little under two hours. I can probably get back to sleep in that time."

"You wake up early," Erik sighed, shifting them into a slightly new position, still holding Charles against him.

"If I don't I won't get up," came the answer as the smaller man adjusted to the new position.

Erik hummed softly. "Try to sleep then," he said.

"Will you be able to sleep again?"

"Yes," Erik replied, stroking his hair again and maybe only half lying. It would take him a while but he should be able to manage. If not, well he was used to not getting that much sleep.

Charles arched a skeptical eyebrow, invisible in the dark but mentally present, settling for nodding and trying to get back to sleep.

A couple notes from your history major of a writer VS: Based on the age the actor looked at plus still having Erik be in his twenties (though rather late twenties) in the film, he would be about nine in 1944. (However, that doesn't actually make sense since the children where the ones sent to be gassed in the camps and it was implied it was his parents in the first X-Men movies, but in this one his mother was a worker instead so hey, whatever, we're saying he was nine when he met Shaw.) If he was 9 in 1944, he was born sometime around 1935, which was after Hitler came into power in 1933 and about the same time the Nuremberg Laws were passed in 1935.

And at this point he's very much not a practicing Jew. I just can't see him being so, not just because of the camps but of what he did afterwords as well. Hank also put things together because he paid attention in history class and can figure out about how old Erik is. He figures there's no way that didn't affect Erik someway, though of course he doesn't actually know what happened.