Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to 20th Century Fox, Disney, Marvel, and/or their otherwise respective owners.
Author's Notes: Aaaaaaah, it's finally here! I feel like this last chapter turned me rabid. Like, I put 71k into this fic, and I am extremely proud of it. It's everything that I wanted when I originally concocted this idea up, *chef's kiss* I love it.
I do hope that you guys don't hate me for the decisions I made too much in this chapter lmao. I went back and forth on if I was going to do them or not, but uh...this wouldn't be one of my fics if I didn't lol. I think the rest of my track record speaks for itself. Plus, I did it for two very specific reasons that should be obvious once everything's said and done.
Note: yes, the ending is set up for a sequel, and yes I'm putting this into a series now on AO3. I'm not 100% sure if I am going to make the sequel or not, and if I do I'm gonna need a couple of months probably to be ready to post it, but. Rewriting Apocalypse for this universe is becoming more and more appealing to me, especially with the shitshow that is going on in my brain. So, we'll see!
Anyways, thank y'all so much for reading this story and going on this wild ride with me. It has been a blast, and I appreciate each and every single one of you.
As always, I hope you enjoy,
~TGWSI/Selene Borealis
~the turning tables 'verse~
~turning tables~
~chapter 12: sweetest devotion~
The children took the news of them getting back together well.
There was no use in attempting to hide it from them. For one, Wanda and Jean possessed telepathy, just like him. One glimpse into either his or Erik's mind, and they would have known the truth. For two, Peter and Lorna were clever; even if he hadn't known Lorna had already suspected them from becoming more than co-parents, the two of them probably would have done some snooping or come up with some sort of plan to figure it out regardless.
And for three, they were not going to lie about this to their children, not even by omission. It was as simple as that.
"Finally," Peter groaned exaggeratedly when they sat him, Wanda, Lorna, Kurt, and Jean down to tell them. He interlocked his fingers behind his head and leaned back, a smirk on his face. "I was wondering when you guys would figure it out."
Wanda looked like she wanted to put a hand against her temple. "Pietro."
"It's still Peter, sis."
"This is the best news ever!" Jean shouted once the shock of it wore off of her. She ran over to them, crawling up on Charles' lap despite the wince that it caused so she could pull them both into a hug from where Erik was sitting right next to him. It was a marked difference from how she usually was with her reserved nature, and Charles would be lying if he said he didn't at least partially delight in it. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
We didn't just do it for her, Erik sent to him as a sarcastic quip, which made him laugh as he petted their daughter's auburn hair.
Lorna came over to hug them as well, her half-siblings and Kurt trailing behind her. "I'm glad, Papa, Vati," she mumbled into his shoulder. Her voice was small, but the excitement in it was palpable – and so was her nervousness.
He conveyed to her silently what he and Erik had agreed on, specifically that even if they were to separate again, he wouldn't force her other father to leave. That made her feel better, as she relaxed against him and Erik, settling more into the hug.
Kurt was much more hesitant due to the reasons that continued to make Charles' heart ache whenever he thought about them. But he had come a long way since he had first arrived at the manor, and it helped that Erik, like the other men in the household, respected his boundaries. More than that, though, Erik treated him no differently than the rest of their children, like he was their third son. So although he was wary and did not say anything, the small, tentative smile on the boy's face showed he agreed with his cousins.
"I am happy for you and Otecha," Wanda confided in him later with a radiant smile. "I know...neither of you have always been happy. But since he's come to live with us, the difference in you both is...stark. And I'm glad that he chose you. I'm glad that you're my..."
Like Sean from so many years ago, she was unable to say the word. He didn't mind. "I'm your Charles," he said, squeezing her hand comfortingly. "And I'll always be here for you."
"I know."
Speaking of Sean, he took the news much of the same way that Peter had, the only differences being the rolling of his eyes, a good-natured grin, and the adding of, "Thank you. You have just made me a richer man."
Charles was mortified. "Sean..."
"Relax, relax," the other man said. "You didn't make me that much richer. I still owe Hank $40."
Even Xandra and David were excited by the news, it having been explained as much as it could be in terms and mental pictures that they could understand. Whenever they kissed around their youngest two, Xandra would clap her hands and exclaim, "Papa, Vati, kiss, kiss!" David would cheer along with her.
Nothing really changed, except of course for the things that naturally had to. Neither he nor Erik had ever much cared for PDA, but nor did they shy away from it when the rare urge for it struck them. The students were all excited for their relationship, if only because it was the much-needed gossip that kept them from going insane towards the end of the school year.
One night a week until the end of the school year and the students that could went home, when it then increased to at leastone night a week, Erik took him out to dinner or on some other sort of date. He was insistent on it, ever the romantic, but Charles did not mind. The opportunity to get out of the house so often for no reason other than time spent together and enjoyment made him feel alive. It made their sex, which they had often – often enough that the children got used to their bedroom door being locked regularly now, even though all except the eldest three did not know the reason for it – that much better, going from the best he'd ever had to something beyond words. Erik took the time to learn everything that he needed to know, either from Charles or a couple of books he'd miraculously found at the local library. He still wore a condom each time, although they had discussed the possibility of him getting a vasectomy once or twice. For now, they were content with settling into the committed relationship they'd never had before.
That August, two weeks before the first of September and a week before the beginning of term for his own school, he and the rest of the family said goodbye to Wanda with teary eyes outside the manor. She'd decided that she wanted to go to college for that school year, having completed her GED that winter (she and Peter had had to drop out of high school in order to survive after Natalya had killed their aunt, uncle, and cousin) and filled out an application of exceptional circumstances at NYU. She'd gotten accepted, not that Charles had thought she wouldn't. She didn't know exactly what she wanted to do yet, but he had the complete and upmost faith in her.
"I'll be back for October break, then Thanksgiving, and then Christmas," she promised Lorna, Jean, and Kurt, hugging the three of them weepingly before going over to Xandra and David to do the same with them. "The breaks will be here before you know it."
"It's still so long," Lorna complained.
It occurred to Charles, seeing the two of them interact, that it would only be another six or so years until it was time for her to go off to school as well.
He tried not to think about it.
"You'll still have Peter," Wanda tried to console her.
Peter appeared at her side. "Yep, you'll still have me," he confirmed, though his tone wasn't as upbeat as it usually was. This would be the first time that the twins had ever really been apart, outside of Natalya whisking her away to train her when they'd been younger. But he knew how to mask his melancholy in front of his younger siblings, despite Charles telling him that he didn't need to. He looked at Wanda expectantly. "I've got everything in the trunk. Pops and I are ready to go when you are."
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly.
She came bak over to Charles before they left. "Thank you," she said. "For everything."
"My dear, there's nothing you need to thank me for," he replied. He patted her arm. "A piece of advice: don't think of this as an end – think of it as a new beginning."
He did worry for her, because unlike him when he'd gone off to Oxford, she wouldn't have a sibling by her side at college. But, from the letters she sent over the course of the next month, she seemed to settle in well. Her roommate was a girl from a wealthy family named Janet van Dyne, and she made friends with her and Janet's other friend, Hank Pym. She liked the English class that she'd decided to take, enough so that she was thinking about majoring in the subject. He encouraged her to do so if she thought a career in it would be something that she wanted, and Erik did the same.
Peter continued to be saddened by the absence of his sister, but the school resuming session helped. He was now on a more equal footing with Sean in training the students in their powers, and they all loved him for it. He wasn't ready to leave the nest yet, it seemed like he wouldn't be for a long time, but Charles could see the beginning wonderings of what his own path would be like being forged in his mind.
In October, still well before Wanda was to come home from college for her break, Charles fell under the weather. It took him by surprise, as none of the children nor the staff had also fallen ill. He was left miserable: in spite of the weather becoming colder, he was hot like they were in the dog days of summer and achy all over. The nausea he experienced was what felt like the worst he'd ever had, and a migraine left him bedridden for a few days until he felt like he had no choice but to go back to teaching, even with the pain.
Erik didn't agree with him. "You need rest, mein Liebster," he said.
"The children need me more."
"And what happens if you get them sick because you didn't take the proper precautions?"
But strangely, no one else got sick. It was only him.
The trickling of doubt was already beginning to pitter-patter onto his mind by the time that – still about a week before Wanda was supposed to come home – Erik walked into their room after classes were over for the day. Charles had already retreated into their bed, in desperate need for a nap. His left arm was slung over his eyes, but he didn't need his vision in order to sense Erik's presence...or how uncertain the other man was.
"What is it, Erik?" he asked.
Charles didn't immediately move his arm away from his face, even with the anxiety of his lover. Doing so would mean letting light filter into his eyes to be relayed as information through his optic nerves to his brain, and his brain wasn't wanting to deal with that just yet.
"I know you don't feel well," Erik began slowly, "but I think we need to talk."
Irritation sparked within him. He'd rather Erik had gotten straight to the point. "About what?"
"You've been sick for the last week," Erik noted. "And while in any other circumstance I wouldn't find that unusual – " with this, Charles knew, he was referring to how the paralysis had made his immune system more susceptible than it had been before " – none of the children have also become sick. I think..."
He faltered.
Charles ripped his arm away from his face, glaring. "You think what?" he demanded.
Then he saw it.
In his hands, as he looked extremely abashed, Erik was holding a stick. Not that either of them knew it, but in Logan's original timeline, it was a stick that had not come out until 1978. But 1973 had changed many things, including the introduction of the stick into the economic setting four years earlier than expected, with it becoming widespread in stores over the past year.
It was a pregnancy test.
Charles used the bar above his side of the bed to help him sit up, disbelief crashing through his system. It wasn't as profound as it should've been, for as he'd said, he'd started to begin to doubt that he was "sick" as well. But still, it was there.
He swallowed. "Erik."
"Please, Charles. Just take it," Erik requested. "Humor me."
They both knew that was not what he had been referring to.
Six minutes later, they were in the bathroom, staring at the positive pregnancy test. Charles almost wanted to say that maybe it was a trick, that maybe it was wrong because he was a man and this type of pregnancy test had been made for women. But he didn't, because he knew that the tests were of hCG levels, and his had acted just like a woman's would for his other three pregnancies. And with this type of test, a false positive was severalfold more rare than a negative one. That was not mentioning how he was now able to notice the thrum in the back of his head, just like he had every time before.
He was pregnant. Again.
At forty-three years old.
Abruptly, he remembered what he had told Hank back when they'd found out that he'd been pregnant with David and Xandra. As amazing as their sex was, he couldn't help but think maybe he should've taken his younger self's advice.
Then, as panicked and terrified as he was (he had already been pregnant three times, that was enough for him, let alone the prospect of having yet another child to raise), he saw Erik's expression. His visage was not just soft like it was when he interacted with their children, but like it had been when he'd found out about the existence of their children and had seen them for the first time: full of awe and wonder.
"You're pregnant," he said. He must have not truly known whether to believe that Charles was sick or pregnant, having had at least some doubts of his own. "We're having another baby."
And just like that, every negative emotion of Charles' flew out the window.
Besides Anya, Erik had never witnessed the births of any of his children. He'd never seen them as newborns. Yes, he'd gotten to see and still saw David and Xandra as toddlers, but that was different.
And as much as the notion of being pregnant again set him on edge, it wasn't like it wouldn't be worth it in the end. The new life aside, seeing Erik interact with their child from before day one, them raising said child from the beginning, side-by-side...those aspects would make it worth it on their own.
"...Yes," he whispered. "We're having another baby."
Erik mistook the delay in his reply – or perhaps not mistook, but failed to see how exactly the cogs inside his head were turning. "Do you not want it?" He took Charles' face in his hand, cupping his cheek. "If you don't want it, I under – "
"No, no, I want it," Charles protested. Those words were becoming truer and truer the longer he thought about it. He wanted this. He wanted the child. He wanted to have the one where it was not just him raising them as a single parent, at least for part of the beginning. He wanted to see them grow up and what they would become, because their other children were oh-so wonderful, from Wanda and Peter to David and Xandra. "It will be a lot of work, you know."
"I know," Erik said. He chuckled. "I know."
Somehow, that led to them both laughing in the bathroom until their chests and sides hurt, tears of happiness and joy intermingling with it.
Just as they had everything else they'd experienced since Erik had come home, they would do this. They would get through this.
Together.
If Erik had been a romantic partner before, it felt like there was not a better word in the English language to describe him as after they'd found out Charles was pregnant, though it additionally felt like there should've been.
Although this pregnancy was not as difficult as his with Jean had been, objectively speaking, it nevertheless seemed to take more out of him. He was approaching a decade older than he had been then, and it showed. He was more tired all the time, which made it difficult to get through his classes and almost impossible the entire day. After his last class was over, he got used to taking a nap for at least a couple hours. He couldn't sleep through the rest of the day until the next morning often, because he was the father of his and Erik's children and stepfather to Peter and Wanda (who all took the news of him being pregnant again wonderfully, let there be no doubts about that) and a professor with many papers and other turned-in activities to grade, but he knew if he could've, he would've.
Erik was extra-attentive to his needs over the course of the next several months. He was more than happy to massage Charles' swollen ankles, even with him being unable to feel pain from them. When he was unable to make it downstairs for dinner or one of the other meals throughout the week, he brought it up to him instead, and he brought along the children a couple of times (Peter included) to make it a family affair. He helped Charles grade his papers, ignoring his protests of how he didn't need him to do them or responding with, "I know, Charles. But I want to," or something else along those lines.
But Charles' most favorite thing that he did, outside of these ones and so many more, was how often he touched and talked to his belly. It was a nightly routine of theirs: Charles would be laying in bed, about ready to or actively in the process of dozing off, and Erik would be there, kissing and cradling his stomach and whispering sweet nothings to within. Most of the time, he spoke in German, wanting to somehow foster a love for the language before the ability to hear outside the womb was developed. But he spoke often enough in English too, and each language always made Charles smile hazily.
"I can't wait for you come out and meet your siblings, mein Schatz," he said on numerous occasions, verbatim. "Our fourth Tochter."
Because yes, they were having another girl, not that it had been any real surprise. Unlike them getting back together, no one had placed bets on this aspect of their life.
With bringing a new life into the world, there came the necessity for said life to have a name. This, while not the most difficult part of his pregnancy or the most frustrating one, was nevertheless a task with added baggage than he was used to. Before, even when he hadn't wanted it to be the case with David and Xandra, Charles had been on his own for naming their children. It'd only been him and his styling preferences to have input, and once he'd found the names he'd liked best for Lorna, Jean, David, and Xandra, those had been their names. Granted, with the twins, he'd tried to choose names that he'd thought Erik would like as well, but still the principle remained.
This time, however, Erik had as much as a voice in the naming of their daughter that he did. And though it was true that their preferences were similar, it still made for a task for them to do. There were some boundaries that they came up with: mainly that no names beginning with 'A' of any kind were allowed (it was Erik's way of wanting to honor Anya, even with Xandra's full first name being Alexandra, and Charles thought it was the least he could do to allow it) and that either the first or middle name had to be German. But with only those two prerequisites, there was more than enough room for decision, and it showed.
"How about Brigitta?" Erik suggested not long after the burgeoning of consciousness and the revelation of the gender of their fifth child together.
"...Maybe for a middle name," Charles allowed. He didn't think he could imagine any child of his having that as her first name.
Another time, while they were both getting ready for bed, Charles mused out loud, "What do you think of Imogen?"
"It sounds extremely British," Erik answered, causing Charles to let out a laugh. "If it is what you want, Charles, because I do like it, but..."
"Our children aren't British," Charles finished for him. They were American; they had been born here, had American accents, and everything else that went along with it. Moreover, he did not find it nearly as important to instill in them the culture and knowledge of his own home country that Erik did with his.
Eventually, they came to decide on first names that were late Roman in origin. He couldn't tell you why; they simply seemed to fit for the daughter in his womb. Cordula fit this bill and the German one, but it was thrown out by him and Erik both because it seemed too old and ostentatious. Carina wouldn't do, and neither would Felicia, Isaura (though it was a strong contender), Ursula, nor Verena, among a whole host of other names.
The night that they came upon their youngest daughter's name, they were going through all of the names he had just mentioned plus those others, a name book open on the bed in front of them. Erik sighed. "You know, I don't remember it being this difficult the first time around."
"If it's any consolation," Charles said wryly, "neither do I."
Erik pushed on in that way he always did, though not without splaying a hand out on Charles' stomach. Their daughter kicked at him, to which they both smiled. "You would think we would've come up with a name by now," he murmured. "We only have another month."
"We'll get there," Charles replied. He ghosted his fingers along the edge of the page they were currently on. "Let's keep looking."
They went through the list they knew their baby's name would come from for several minutes more, flipping back and forth through its pages. Finally, at long last, Erik's finger paused from where it had been going down one of the columns for what felt like the umpteenth time. "What about this one?" he asked. "Domnina?"
Charles moved to open his mouth.
But, before he could, he felt another kick from inside him.
"Oh," he spoke, surprised. He didn't know why he was so taken aback; Lorna, Jean, David, and Xandra had all been particular active by this point in his pregnancies with them. One kick did not necessarily mean anything at all.
As he rubbed at the part of his stomach the baby had kicked at, and it had been a particularly hard kick at that, Erik's eyes zeroed in on his torso. "What do you think, Schatz? Do you like the name Domnina?"
Another brutal kick landed on Charles' insides, drawing a gasp from him.
"Well," he breathed. "I guess that settles that."
He'd never had this experience with his other children. It was like he'd chosen their correct names right from the get-go, but this one now – Domnina – had waited for some time for them to come to the destined choice. Although, even with saying that, he knew he was ascribing too much rationale with these musings. Still, it was clear that their daughter liked the name.
"It is a heavy name," Charles noted, knowing the root that it came from – "dominus," meaning "lord" or "master." While other families giving their daughter this name would have little reason to worry, he was concerned about what people would think of two mutants naming their daughter that, if they were to ever know the truth of her and the rest of her siblings' parentage. They would have to be careful. "We should come up with a nickname for her."
Erik chuckled, laying down on the bed and shifting to make himself comfortable. "With this name, that's not hard: Nina."
Charles hummed. "And the middle name?"
It took them some more time to come to an agreement about that as well. But in the end, it was decided: their fifth daughter's name would be Domnina 'Nina' Mariele Xavier-Lehnsherr. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.
Like with the birth of David and Xandra, Charles elected to not go under the twilight sleep this time. Erik was with him for the entirety of the procedure; he remained in front of the partition, having no qualms in admitting that seeing past it, seeing his lover's stomach cut open, was not something for him.
"You've done worse before," Hank muttered under his breath as he got ready to begin on the other side.
Erik rolled his eyes, but that was the only reaction either of them had. While they appreciated Hank's attempt at humor, both of them were too anxious to give it much thought.
The procedure went well, as it had every time before. When they heard Nina's first cries, Erik's eyes filled with tears. He was the first one to hold her after Hank had cut the cord, and as his tears fell down his cheeks, Charles felt his own do the same. "Mein Liebling," Erik said, pressing a kiss to her forehead despite the vernix and blood covering her. "You're so beautiful. You look just like – " He cut off, voice cracking, unable to say anything more.
Their daughter definitely favored Erik more, Charles thought when his lover placed her on his chest. Unlike the rest of their children, she had brown hair proper, albeit hers was a darker color than either of theirs. Really, the only thing he could see in her were the shape and color of her blue eyes.
"Hello, Nina," he whispered to her.
Nina's birthdate was May 17th, 1976 – two weeks before Jean's birthday. But the closeness of their birthdays did not perturb her nor any of the others; they were all too fascinated in their youngest sibling once visitors were allowed. Even Wanda was in attendance, having just come back home after a week at her friend Janet's home after their school year at NYU had finished. They all crowded around the bed, making for a tight bit of space in their particular section of the infirmary.
"I can't believe she has normal hair," Lorna commented quietly.
This, Jean was perturbed at. "And what about me?"
"You know what I meant, Jeanie."
"I can't believe you guys had another kid," Peter deadpanned.
Like Charles had said, all of the children had taken the news well, although he'd perhaps forgotten to mention Peter's specific reaction. When they'd told him and the others, the speedster had sat down on the sofa, his face paling. He'd accused them of joking while Lorna and Jean had practically jumped up and down on the piece of furniture in joy, both of them having been much more excited this time around than with David and Xandra now that Erik was back in the picture. When Peter had realized they hadn't been joking...suffice to say, the next hour had been very interesting, even though no malice or hurt had been involved.
("I can't believe you two!" Peter cried, flabbergasted. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm excited, but – " he ran a hand through his hair " – don't you have enough kids already, Pops?"
Erik looked like he was in the process of developing a headache. "Pietro.")
It had been Wanda to rein her brother in, and yet it was Wanda now who was giving them a very peculiar look as she petted Nina's hair with the back of her hand gently.
"What is it?" he asked her.
"Nothing," she said at first. But then, she shook her head and smiled, as if she was caught in her own joke. "I was just wondering...is she your last, do you think?"
"Yes," he and Erik spoke at once.
Do not get them wrong: they loved all of their children. But, regardless of Edina telling him with a smile and a twinkle in her eye that she could probably heal up his scar tissue for another pregnancy if he wanted to (Hank had advised him that he should stop with Nina), and regardless of how he did not seem to be going into menopause yet (if that was how his uterus worked – he'd never had menstruation, after all), they felt like they had had enough. Eight children, Kurt included, felt like plenty, and that was only speaking for the children that were biologically or through foster theirs. That was not mentioning all of the other children in the household. Erik was already in the process of getting a vasectomy scheduled, something they probably should've done as soon
Wanda's smile widened, and now it seemed like she was truly holding back laughter. But when they all prodded her about it, she remained silent, refusing to divulge what she found so funny.
(. . .
. . .
It was only much, much later, three years in fact, that she admitted what she had been thinking at this time: "I thought you and Otecha weren't finished yet," she told him, mirth at the edges of her mouth. "But, I wasn't about to tell the two of that. I figured you would figure it out when you got older."
Charles sighed, half-amused, half-mortified. "Wanda...")
To Charles, it was almost funny, how swiftly time seemed to pass, almost in the blink of an eye.
It seemed like just yesterday had been the night before the battle against Shaw, when he and Erik had fallen into bed together for the first time, or that day when he'd lost his ability to walk, or the day months after those when Hank had told him that he was pregnant. It also felt like yesterday had been the day of Lorna's birth, or Jean's, or David and Xandra's, or Nina's. He felt like he had only just told Erik the truth about their children, or that they had only just gotten back together.
But in truth, the time between the present and the first of those dates was already twenty years now.
He felt it in every inch of his body when he woke up that morning. Groaning softly as he came to, he opened his eyes. In his immediate line of sight was Erik, still sleeping. His lover – husband of two years, actually, in everything except the legal definition – had chosen to grow out his beard in the past year. He kept it to a fairly short length, not that it mattered to Charles; with the auburn and grey hairs due to his natural color beginning to lighten with age, he had never been more handsome.
Charles, wanting to let him sleep a little bit longer – it was the weekend, but knowing their children and their sleep patterns, he wouldn't be able to sleep in for long – got out of bed without disturbing him. He went into the bathroom and went through the motions of his morning routine. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but see the wrinkles that had not been there before, the grey hairs beginning to amass – but thankfully, not falling out. He was showing no signs of balding yet, though he knew it most likely had to be in his future because of his other self. Or maybe not, due to the extra pregnancies he'd had than him and how the hormones from them had affected his body. It was hard to say for sure.
He heard on both the physical and psionic levels Erik stirring when he got out of the bathroom and went over to his dresser in search of clothes. Good morning, Erik, he sent to him.
Erik groaned, rolling over onto his back. "'Morning," he grumbled after a moment, though there was no heat to his voice. "Where are..." The children?
With perfect timing, there was the sound of several footsteps and then knocking at their door. "Papa! Vati!"
Erik sighed again, letting his head fall onto his pillow. I just had to summon them, didn't I?
They were getting ready to come before you said that, Charles informed him cheerily. Out loud, he said, "Just give us a minute, darlings."
Even without his telepathy, he heard Nina say exasperatedly to her siblings, "He always says that..."
Chuckling, he threw some clothes at Erik. They each put their clothes on, and then Charles settled back on the bed, since it was pretty much a family tradition at this point for him to do so. Now that they were proper, Erik unlocked the door with his powers.
Not a second later, their youngest children were barging in. They all crashed onto the bed, a giggling mess of limbs. "Good morning, David, Xandra," he began, to which the nine-year-old twins gave wicked grins, "Nina," the almost seven-year-old was much happier now that she was inside the room, cuddling up to her other father. And, last but certainly not least, "Magnus."
Unlike his older sister, the three-year-old was much more content to stay close to Charles. "Papa," he said happily as his other three present siblings spoke their greetings. This morning, for whatever reason, he seemed to be fascinated in the lines in Charles' left palm, and Charles let him explore it, splaying out his hand.
Magnus had been...he did not want to say a surprise baby, because although almost all of his children could fit that moniker, he felt like it went to Nina first and foremost, and more than that, they'd planned to have Magnus...in a way. The appointment Erik had scheduled for his vasectomy after Nina had fallen through and he hadn't gotten it rescheduled, and then, as Nina had become a toddler and Lorna's graduation was looming on the horizon, Charles had realized...maybe he hadn't wanted to be done having children, not quite just yet. Erik had been of the same mind, because of course Wanda had been right. One thing had led to another and, well...
The rest, as they say, was history.
(Rest assured, Erik had rescheduled the vasectomy after Magnus had been born. Six children together was enough for each of them.)
Magnus Jakob Xavier-Lehnsherr had been born on February 19th, 1980. His hair color was the same as Xandra's feathers, black, and his eyes were a grey that Charles wasn't sure where exactly he'd gotten the color from. A random mutation, he figured, potentially one like Lorna's and Xandra's that were connected to their powers. Magnus would be a mutant one day, but it still wasn't clear what his powers would be. He didn't have the same marker for telepathy that Jean, David, and Xandra had had before they'd manifested, and with Nina's recent manifestation of being able to talk with animals, the possibilities of what his powers would be were as endless as the sky.
"How did you all sleep?" Erik inquired gently.
"Good," was the response from all of them, exaggerated to at least some effect.
They stayed in bed for a few more minutes, until the children remembered that it was morning and they were hungry. Then the twins, Nina, and Magnus ran out of the room, leaving their parents behind them in their wake.
Erik ran his hands over his face. He raised an eyebrow at Charles. "Are Jean and Kurt making breakfast this morning?"
Charles reached out with his mind. "Yes," he said, briefly seeing what the two were doing in the kitchen. Last year they'd decided that they'd wanted to figure out how to cook together, which had turned into them cooking breakfast for the family once a week every Saturday along with helping out with the meals for the entire school. They seemed to enjoy it. He knew that Jean needed something to do, with Lorna now away at college (though she would be coming back from her sophomore year in just a couple of weeks) and how the other students had been treating her as of late because of her nightmares that shook the house.
He almost sighed at the thought. He didn't know what was going on with Jean. She'd shown him the nightmares that she was having as best as she could, but they didn't make sense. Something about the apocalypse and the four horsemen, with a young woman with long, golden blonde hair, just beyond reach...
Erik pressed a kiss to his cheek, stirring him out of his train of thought. "Well, we best not keep them waiting, then."
By the time they got downstairs, all of the children were waiting for them, Peter included. Jean had just finished putting the last of the plates with food on the table. She looked up at them with a tired smile, the circles underneath her eyes prominent. "'Morning, Papa, Vati," she greeted them.
Erik kissed her hair on his quest for the coffeepot – the one item left on the counter, because it was really best out of the reach of the younger children. Charles was more concerned. "Did you get any sleep last night, dear?"
It was the wrong way for him to ask the question. "Yes," Jean said, bristling. But then she relented, her shoulders slumping. "I had the dream again. I woke up before I could shake the house, though."
"That's good," Peter said. When Erik gave him a nonplussed look, he waved his hands exuberantly. "I meant, it's good she was able to wake up from the dream! That's progress, right?"
Jean rolled her eyes, but it was in good nature. "Thanks, Peter."
"Anytime, sis."
Charles worried about Jean with these dreams of hers. He'd thought about calling Wanda and asking her to come and visit, but she was busy with her new life. Her friendship with Hank and Janet had turned into more than just that, and now the three of them were living in Washington DC while Hank and Janet attended graduate school there. Wanda had also given birth to their first child this past autumn – a girl, Nadia Davina van Dyne. She was biologically the daughter of all three of them (they knew, they'd tested), and Charles wasn't sure how that had worked, and he wasn't going to ask. Wanda was a new mother with her own family, and though he was sure she would be more than willing to help Jean in whatever way she could, he'd decided that if Jean was truly wanting of her help, his daughter would call her sister herself.
He decided to change the subject, knowing that Jean would appreciate it. "And how are you this morning, Kurt?"
His nephew flashed him a smile. "Good," he spoke, still shyly. He had come more into himself in the past several years, though he had an inherent reserved nature. "I'm excited for Lorna to be coming home."
Charles chuckled wryly. "Oh, I think we all are."
He missed his eldest daughter. Life around here without her simply wasn't the same, though he reminded himself once more that she would be back home shortly. More than that, she'd decided that she was interested in entering the so-called "family business," as she was going to college for History and Biology both with the intent of becoming a professor.
As he rolled himself up to the table, he looked around the members of their family that were present. Magnus was sitting right next to him, sitting patiently to be allotted his food but quite clearly hungry. Nina was laughing at the face that Peter was now making at her. David and Xandra were sitting right next to each other, brilliant and mischievous. Jean and Kurt appeared satisfied with the breakfast that they had made, as they had every right to be. It all looked delicious.
Erik sat down next to him, placing his coffee mug on his placemat. He started helping himself to a food, since for a change the older children hadn't immediately begun to dig in.
Twenty years ago, Charles never could have imagined this life for himself. He never could have imagined becoming pregnant, giving birth to Lorna, or all of the insanity (and he meant that in a good way) which had followed.
But now that he had been through it all, now that Logan had given them this second chance instead of him and Erik ending up walking down the path that they originally had, he was more than grateful for this family – this life with Erik. And he knew, as he squeezed his husband's hand under the table, that he wouldn't change a thing.
Word Count: 6,793
Total Word Count: 71,323
Sequel Title: TBA