Chapter Text
Things moved with great haste for the next couple of weeks. Angel settled in remarkably quickly. Raven talked with her often and felt as though the two had been friends for months, if not years. She was easy to speak with, and she pulled her weight when it came to helping out with the twins. Charles and Erik went off on three trips that didn't lead anywhere. One mutant was simply not interested. Another refused to speak with them. The third, after a while, threatened to get violent. But the pair tried not to get discouraged.
Charles, especially. With each passing day his passion for the project only grew. Angel was their shining star. The proof that there were mutants out there who would give anything for a chance at a better life. Mutants who, like her, would turn bright and happy in a matter of days, finally feeling as though they belonged somewhere.
Raven and Hank looked better with each passing day. Charles had never seen his sister smile so much, and from what Moira had said, Hank himself had come out of his shell in a way his superiors had never seen before.
Kids. They're just acting like kids. Because they finally get to.
Not to mention the real kids. Pietro and Wanda now had plenty of people to choose between when it came to the question of who they would pester on a particular day. According to Erik, they were the happiest he had ever seen them.
And Erik.
Erik.
If this whole project failed, in the end, at the very least he had Erik. And above all else, he had that special something that had been created between them.
On their trips, they had gotten into a comfortable routine. They stopped being daunting. They looked forward to the privacy they were guaranteed. Motel by motel they grew closer than ever before. Charles become accustomed to every part of him. The rhythm of his heartbeat, the strangely sweet smell of cheap motel shampoos. Each morning he opened his eyes first and struggled with finding the courage to wake Erik up. He wanted the moments to stretch on forever. He had let them run late far too many times, now.
Moira was relentless in her work and was prepared with their next assignment each time they made it back home.
Home.
Yes, Charles had started calling the base that. It was where Raven awaited him every time he returned. What else could he call such a place?
They were on their second trip this month, now. The first had ended swiftly. Moira insisted this one would be different. Something about the person they were to speak with. She had looked over the notes Charles took during his work in Cerebro and concluded one Armando Muñoz didn't have much holding him down where he currently resided. They needed another win. They followed her suggestion without question.
“Are you absolutely sure you should have taken that turn?” Charles was asking from the passenger's seat, eyes scanning a map he was already growing sick of.
“It all leads back to the same place,” Erik insisted, eyes persistently locked on the road ahead.
“Well, looking at this, it does not.”
“Every single American city is laid out the same, it's-”
“We're in a town, not a city, and we're supposed to be on a road several miles from here-”
Perhaps not everything about Erik was perfect. Frustratingly, that only made Charles adore him more. No matter how many times they argued over directions and how many times they got lost because of just how stubborn he tended to be, Charles would come undone by one kiss, and his surface-level anger would dissipate. He'd teach Erik to admit when he was in the wrong in time.
“We should pull over here. I doubt there's another gas station for a while.”
“It's fine. We have enough.”
“Erik.”
“I have driven long distances before, I can assure you-”
“Erik, pull over before I make you.”
Luckily for Charles, Erik had a weak spot for him about as bad as his own, if not worse. Slowly but surely he was learning just when to bat his eyelashes to get what he needed. There was no mystery left when it came to Erik. Now, Charles was utterly addicted to indulging everything familiar and easy to understand.
And with that came the first major roadblock. There was something on Erik's mind. Several times on the road now Charles had noticed him growing distracted, and his intimate knowledge of even the most outer shell of his thoughts (the type he couldn't really turn away from, not when it came to Erik) made such a thing impossible to ignore. Again and again his mind wandered. So used to being open with one another, Charles felt as though he was being shut out as he was unable to follow.
He tried not to focus on it too much. He could admit now, he had an overthinking problem. Especially when it came to this man. It was hard not to. Charles was desperate to hang onto the thread holding them together. Day by day it became stronger, but still, he feared the inevitable – the one thing that had cut their every previous meeting short.
Never enough time. Something always nagging, nagging, nagging,
“Erik.” Charles barely caught it, so lost in his own thoughts. “Why are we stopping? We've still got a few hours to burn. And hotels in the middle of the city are so expensive-”
“I know. But indulge me.”
And again, Erik's mind forced him out. Charles thought controlling himself around him before was impossible. Trying not to peer at his thoughts, trying not to take by force what he wanted so desperately to hear. Now, so used to slipping in as he wished, staying out felt unnatural.
Erik gave nothing away. They checked into a hotel that was certainly not on the list of motels on the road they had agreed upon ahead on time. They were still a large distance from where they intended to stop. Not to mention, Charles wasn't anywhere close to tired. Erik himself seemed in better spirits than ever. At the very least he was smiling. Perhaps Charles could indulge his strange behaviour for a little longer, if only for that.
He addressed him outright only once they were settled in fully. Charles was now occupied with looking at the city, the window in their room providing them with quite the view. The sun had gone down and windows across various skyscrapers lit up like stars on the night sky. People paced the streets below, heading to parties and dinners. Laughing, talking, living their best life. It was hard to grapple with how recently the country was filled with nothing but uncertainty and terror.
“I'm going to need you to dress in the best thing you've brought.”
Charles didn't need to turn around. He saw Erik's reflection in the window pane, growing closer. He felt his arms wrap around his waist, felt him press against his back. When Erik's head rested against his shoulder, Charles moved his hand to touch his cheek.
“What are you planning, exactly?”
“Something special. For once. I figured it was about time we did something other than this work.”
Charles couldn't focus on the views anymore. In their shared, distant reflection, he could only look at Erik's eyes. His gaze, in turn, was focused only on Charles. It travelled over his neck and he swore he could feel it brushing against his skin, there.
“Can I have a clue?”
Erik smirked. He came closer, his cheek brushing against Charles neck. He shuddered. “We're going on a date. That's all I'm letting you have.”
“A date?”
“Must I explain to you what a date is?”
Charles rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Very funny.”
“Get ready. Ideally we get going in half an hour.”
Erik stepped away, and a deep cold permeated the room. Charles longed for him to return, but again, he found comfort in knowing he would. Out of all the new feelings Erik had stirred within him, that one was most precious. The promise of more. The promise of finding one another again. The promise of something so sweet becoming the everyday. The norm.
So he prepared. He spent some time before the bathroom mirror, trying to comb his hair into place. He had never been someone who cared much for his appearance. The night reignited feelings he had long buried and left behind in adolescence – boyhood crushes that were bound to head nowhere, but which stirred new emotions that were too exciting to turn away from.
God, what a cliché thing. Straight out of a storybook, a bad sitcom one couldn't help but tune out. But there was no other way to put it - Erik made Charles feel young. As if his life had only just begun. He made every small thing exciting and new.
They did not walk the streets hand-in-hand, as they wished they could, but they stayed close. Each time Charles felt his arm brush against Erik's a thrill rushed through him. They were privy to a secret everyone they passed on the street remained blind to. Another childish thing. Taking such pleasure in hiding this and that. Their secret went much deeper than something exchanged between children, naturally, but the experience was child-like nonetheless. Freeing, perhaps. Comforting. As all memories of childhood tended to be.
Equally, they were wrapped up in their fair share of naivete. Charles knew he couldn't expect too much from an outing like this. He had spent so much time hiding one part of himself, it was all too easy to forget the other that had to be concealed to such a degree. He could not let himself get carried away. Each time hand met hand, skin brushed skin, he was forced to channel the feeling swelling within him into smiles and laughs, intercutting their conversation about nothing at all. For tonight, it would have to do.
Erik had really put the work in, researching this place. A restaurant positioned quite high in one of the city's tallest buildings, giving a stunning view. They had even managed to secure an isolated table, giving them a shred of privacy from the prying eyes of guests all around. Women and men in pairs, their wine putting them in great spirits. A large group of men in suits, celebrating some recent achievement in their work. A family who looked beyond well-off, with a little boy who complained again and again about something on his plate. The restaurant wasn't crowded by any means, but it was full of life.
Erik moved back a chair for him, before he sat. What a gentleman. And again, as cliché as it sounded, Charles could not help the butterflies in his stomach. He hadn't realized he'd been dreaming of treatment like this, until Erik had presented him with it. Just another thing that man could do with such ease. Teach Charles about things he had never even thought to consider.
But oh, it could not be denied. The looks. The whispers. The assumptions. Hateful minds were, unfortunately, loudest of all. But Charles turned away from it all. Tonight, he focused on Erik (He vowed, as if he had not done so every night since he met him).
“I haven't been to a place like this in ages,” he spoke, if only to hear something other than the drilling thoughts of everyone gathered around. There was a certain mental tension that came with dates and business meetings that gave him a headache.
“Any particular reason?”
Charles kept catching himself on thoughts he initially thought ridiculous, then forced himself to allow to pass through. He couldn't help it. Half-hidden behind the menu he was only half-considering, Erik peeked at him, again and again. He could just about make out the corner of his playful smile. He tried to mask his own amusement at that.
Charles had to remind himself to actually answer the other's question, “I was more into pubs and bars during my time in university.”
“Really? I didn't take you for... That kind of person.”
“What kind? The type that could have fun?” Charles smirked. “Just because I am educated doesn't mean I can't take it easy from time to time.”
“Oh, trust me. I'm well aware you know how to have fun.”
Charles froze, suddenly silent. He thought, maybe, a blush threatened to come to his face. It certainly begun to feel uncharacteristically hot. Erik put the menu down for good, revealing his pleased smile. Am I really so easy to overwhelm?
“I just thought you to be someone who took his work very seriously. Not someone that finds the time for parties and drinks.”
“You're not making it through the studies I did without some alcohol. Trust me.”
“So I take it we're going to be having wine with this?”
“You said it yourself.” Charles finally managed to lift his chin, trying to counter Erik's coy expression with a reserved grin. “I know how to have fun.”
When the waitress returned to take their order, for the first time, Charles begun to feel a certain anxiety rise within him. He refused to look around. He refused to take his eyes from the single person he had so desperately wanted to be this close to for years. He wanted to enjoy every moment. When the thoughts all around threatened to overwhelm, he'd force a smile and a question.
“How did you even find this place?”
“You expect me to reveal all my secrets?”
“I mean, surely it took... The amount of planning, and-”
“Charles. Just enjoy yourself. And let me enjoy myself a bit, too. This is a break for both of us.”
Charles considered his words. “So I assume... There wasn't exactly time for fancy dinners while on the road with the twins?”
“From time to time there'd be something. They deserved a break from my cooking, that's for sure. And...” Whatever good mood he had been harbouring dispersed in an instant. “I just wanted to give them something new. Something more than just... Staying inside and hiding all the time.”
“And they behaved themselves?”
“You'd be surprised. They can keep themselves in check. If bribed well enough.”
“Or perhaps you raised them well. Are you willing to admit that?”
Erik laughed. “I am far from done. If anything, I've only started.”
Suddenly, his absent smile became a set frown. His thoughts wandered. Charles could feel him slipping away and pulled at him, desperately. Again and again he feared to hear the ticking of that clock, always hovering over them.
We have this, now. We have this. For good. Forever. If I stop believing that, it will all unravel. I have to believe we finally have time.
“Erik,” he said, more softly than he intended.
God, how he longed to reach across the table. To hold his hand, let the secret between them brush with the incessant gazes of all those gathered around. Give them something tangible to gawk at, and whisper about.
He settled for a comforting smile. “They're safe. And they're doing good.”
“I know.” A sigh. “I know, I don't... I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep coming back to the same-”
“Erik.” This time, his name was laced with a hint of amusement he had missed within it. “You are allowed to worry, you know.”
“I worry too much.”
“And you have every right to that, also. But at the same time...” Charles shrugged, the corners of his lips lifting further and further. “Don't you think you could all use some time apart? Give them some time to figure out who they are... On their own?”
“Not without one another. That goes without saying. But... Without me, maybe. Maybe.”
Erik looked to the side, the views of the city offering him an escape from Charles' gaze. “But I worry... Who are they gonna be when they don't have each other?”
“And when will such a time come, exactly?”
“It has to. Eventually. They'll... They'll live their own lives, but... What if all this time they've spent isolated makes that impossible for them? What if they never find their way?”
“Erik.” And at last, the name was sweet. A promise. A calming sensation. “You have done nothing but secure a future for them. I think the best thing you can do now is focus a little more on yourself. I'm sure they hate to see all that strain you put on yourself.”
Whispers all around be damned. Charles couldn't stand this. The pull between them was a thing impossible to resist. Like a thirst or hunger, it pained you, again and again, until it slowly killed you. He reached forward, and he grabbed Erik's hand. He delighted in how quickly he turned it, opening his palm to him. Welcoming his touch as if he had never longer for anything else.
“I know I do,” Charles finally added. “You deserve some happiness, after... After everything...” His voice broke. He didn't intend it. Strangely, it drew a smile out of Erik. Finally.
“And I have it. Right here.”
Erik squeezed his hand tight. Charles cursed under his breath when the waitress returned with their food, finally, and he was forced to let go so suddenly. His brief frustration melted away the moment he met eyes with his partner across the table. They exchanged knowing looks. They passed their secret back and forth with glee.
After weeks, almost months now, of nothing but rushed meals on the road and even more rushed meals stuffed in-between planning at the base, the food was divine. Not to mention good company could only elevate a taste.
Equally, Charles could no longer remain blind to the changes taking place all around. Anxieties lingering in the air manifested in curiosity with an edge of confusion, disgust, distrust. He had felt these emotions far too many times. Why is it the worst of the human mind that screams the loudest? Erik couldn't ignore it, either. What gave itself away so blatantly in the subconscious tried to hide more subtly in sneaked glances and whispers.
How to make it go away? How to make this evening become, once more, so enchantingly perfect? How to draw him back into the illusion, even if Charles himself was cursed to remain outside it? Erik was not the type to be tricked. He faced it, to Charles' distress, head-on.
“Do you look into strangers' minds often?”
“I... I try not to.” Charles' eyes briefly travelled over the people around him, as much as he tried to fight the urge to look. “Sometimes things slip through. But if I can help it, I keep my distance.” He looked back at Erik. “Like passing a house, with the blinds open and the lights on. Sometimes you'll catch a glimpse just because you happen to be looking, but you try to look away. It's private.”
“But sometimes... You'll catch a glimpse of something fascinating. Perhaps something strange. And you can't help yourself. You keep looking.” Erik took a sip of his wine. Charles lightly nodded.
“It's easy to get caught on a thought. The worst ones have the strongest hold.”
He looked down. He tried to ignore everything the woman two tables down was thinking to herself. The small things she whispered to her husband. How absently she thought of her son, making a mess of whatever was on his plate.
“But really, it's just...” Charles never knew how to put this feeling into words. Even Erik's ever-comforting presence couldn't help. “I've been given this great gift. But it's also a responsibility. A thought is a personal, complicated thing. It doesn't imply action. It says so much about the depth's of one soul. Within their minds, people are someone else entirely. So I don't look unless I have to.”
“But don't you get curious, sometimes? What they think of you?”
Erik's eyes flickered to the side. We are not just talking people. We are talking here and now. We are talking hatred, judgement, and fear. A tale as old as time.
“And what difference would it make, if I knew, intimately, the hatred they held in their hearts? I am here, with you. Nothing else should matter to me right now.”
Whatever had been keeping Erik so tense melted away. Only for a moment. His shoulders slumped, and again, his distant smile threatened to return. For a couple seconds, truly, nothing else mattered. As stupid as such a thought was to believe, as risky, only they mattered. The world was reduced to a singular table at a restaurant in the middle of nowhere, free of prying eyes and losses and pains that became as familiar as breathing.
“Could you remove it?”
Erik sounded intense, suddenly. Simple questions of genuine interested turned to an interrogation.
Faced with silence, he begun to clarify, “The... The hate, I mean. Can you alter minds permanently like that? Have you ever tried?”
“Just... Removing a part of someone?”
“Yes. Yes, have you tried?”
Charles recalled Raven's earliest days at home. Carefully picking apart his parents' minds to create the illusion of the daughter they had always had. Influencing officials to forge documents. Family friend by family friend, neighbour by neighbour, implanting memories of the girl that had always been by Charles' side. Creating Raven Xavier, his first and greatest project.
Equally, each intrusion into his parents' minds was a terrifying thing. He added, but he never took. He sprinkled Raven on everyone's subconscious but worried to upset the careful balance within. The minds of others felt so delicate back then. Like handling glass.
So he took every criticism. He braved every blow. He spared Raven the worst of it, shielded her. But he never tried to make them... Different. Always too afraid to go one step further, to “fix” them. Always worrying his mother would just turn into the facade he had discovered in the kitchen that fateful night. The type of mother that made hot chocolates, and left no tears. It would be perfect, but he would have to live every day knowing it wasn't real. It seemed a fate worse than the true pain which he endured instead.
“It would be wrong. I... I couldn't.” He tried to move past the initial disgust that came with the notion. The smallest hint of anger he dared not project on the man before him. “Not to mention, it's such a messy process, I mean... Let's say you remove the fact that someone hates the colour yellow. Now you have to sift through memories, remove memories of refusing to wear yellow, refusing to have their walls painted yellow, whatever else, so the contradictions don't trouble them. You alter memories, you alter the person. It's like dominoes. One change leads to another, to another...”
“But if changing one person would spare thousands the pain, isn't that better?”
“Well, now you're getting into ethical debates. Do the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many? Should people be reduced to numbers and statistics, or should everyone's right to existence be held to the same level? How do you decide who's hateful enough to be changed, and who's got more of a... light distaste for someone?” Charles' eyes begun to travel the restaurant once more. He met judgemental look after judgmental look. “When a line is so difficult to draw cleanly it's better not to draw it at all.”
He looked to Erik again. Something lingered in his gaze. The smallest hint of disagreement. Something clawing at him, longing to drag the debate on. The soft joy, that simple comfort they had indulged in so much over these past few weeks, won over it in the end. He laughed, again reaching for his wine.
“Look at that. One philosophical question and the Oxford graduate jumped right out.”
“You have a very stereotypical view of academics.”
Erik took his time with that next sip of wine. Drawing out the moment further, further, further. Still, they could not accept they were being given their time. What a cruel thing. “I can't help it. You fit the bill in every way.”
“Must I remind you again-?”
“How much fun you can be? Please do.”
There were so many things Charles wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do. The inaction this place and the people within it trapped him in was choking him, slowly. At the very least one of the many things that set him apart gave him another choice.
I wish I could kiss you, he spoke into a corner of Erik's mind he had made his own. It felt as familiar as a home may. Erik smirked.
Why not? Let's cause a stir.
Charles wished he could mirror the gesture, but he couldn't even as much as force it. I'm sick of stirs. That's all our lives have ever been. Is it too much to ask for some peace?
Then make them all forget. Let this world be just us. For at least a moment.
But again, Charles thought of a hollow shell wearing his mother's skin. The fear its uncanniness inspired. The relief at Raven presenting herself to him in full. The terror of ever creating something so utterly wrong. A mind and a body that did not match. A present and memories that could not correlate. Charles begun to understand just how much he feared paradoxes.
That slightest hint of disappointment in Erik's eyes nearly killed him. He wanted to grasp at the moment that had just passed but he knew better. He could not change all those around them. He could not change the world in a blink.
It's been such a good night. Charles managed his best forced smile. Let's enjoy it in full.
As you wish. He reached forward, picking up the bottle at the centre of the table. Speaking now, he asked, “More wine?”
“I wouldn't be opposed.”
“We're paying for the full thing. We gotta make the most of it.”
Charles laughed. “Yes, there's that, also.”
The rest of the evening flowed with ease, despite the rising tension all around. Charles and Erik cleared out of the restaurant before things got truly heated. What remained unsaid, what could not be done, was passed back and forth between them. Minute by minute it grew. That desire that could not be denied. That pull they could never escape. Such a huge thing, only able to be expressed in the moment through the smallest things. Charles' entire body stiffened as he felt Erik's pinky reach out and wrap around his while they waited for the elevator.
It was endless. Watching the tiny arrow move from one number to the next. Waiting for whoever was making their way up to get out. The smallest victory came in realizing that, finally, they had a moment to themselves.
And when Erik kissed him, for at least a moment, the world was just them. Such small comforts would have to do, for now.
···◦○○♊︎○○◦···
It was Raven's suggestion, to bring a book along for this next trip. Charles was thankful. Long, silent rides like this could really get boring after a while. There was only so many times you could rehash the same conversations Not to mention how exhausting talking all the time tended to get. Hours must have passed by now since they left their most recent motel. Charles had lost track of where they were, but he trusted Erik to find his way. Even if he'd do so with a bunch of delays stemming from his own stubbornness when it came to checking the map outright.
The silence became the norm. Erik, focused on the road. Charles, lost in a long, overly-convoluted fantasy tale of some sort. The engine humming, humming, humming-
Bang!
Charles lifted his eyes. “What in the world was that?”
“Nothing, I'm sure. Don't worry.”
“Was that the engine?”
“I'm sure it's-”
Bang! Crack!
Erik admitted, “That may have been the engine.”
“Stop, then.”
“We're almost at the motel-”
“I'd rather make it there in one piece, thank you. Pull over.”
Just like that the book lost its charm and Charles was filled only with an overwhelming anxiety that grew with each agonizing second they spent searching for somewhere to stop. Until then most of their trips had passed without many issues, for the most part. Delays were expected. But what were they to do if they got stranded? He wasn't even entirely sure where he was, and Erik had already proven directions weren't exactly his strong suit.
The engine continued with its concerning noises all the way up until they finally stopped. Roads in the middle of nowhere were not exactly the perfect place for such a pit stop, but what choice did they have? Cars raced past and the wind howled loudly as, slowly, Charles and Erik got out of the car and walked to its front. Neither wanted to confirm what they already knew.
With the hood lifted, the small trail of smoke that escaped from somewhere within the machine served only to further drive their helplessness into them.
“It's... Not supposed to do that,” Charles muttered, crossing his arms.
“You think?” came Erik's, naturally, rather frustrated response.
“Can you fix it?”
“What?”
“It's... It's metal, no?”
Erik narrowed his eyes. He looked down at the car. Back to Charles. Once more to the car, and finally, back to Charles' pleading gaze.
“Charles.” He paused, taking in a breath. Despite the circumstances, Charles fought a smile. It was hard to take an anger of this kind seriously. “Just because I can move the metal around doesn't mean I know where it's supposed to go. I don't know how cars work. And if I were to try and move this whole thing by myself I'd be too exhausted to do anything by tomorrow.”
“Alright, alright. No need to get so worked up.”
“I can't help it. You're asking stupid questions.”
“Darling, please.”
It would seem Charles was not the only one who came undone so easily. Within the blink of an eye Erik was disarmed and returned to aimlessly glaring at the engine, as if it would magically reveal its ailments to him. Charles tried to push down his laugh, but it was futile.
“Nothing about this is funny,” Erik hissed, but continued to hide his face from him.
“Right, right. Of course.”
“We're stranded, Charles. Take this seriously.”
“I am very serious right now. I am.”
Erik finally chanced a glance at him. Charles cracked, seeing that meek look, the tiniest shade of red hiding in his cheeks. He laughed, loudly, now forced to cover his mouth. Erik let out what was almost a growl and moved away from him, taking a couple steps towards whatever forest they had ended up in.
“Erik. Erik, please. We have a car to fix.”
“You have a car to fix. I'm going to stand over here.”
Charles sighed, but did not argue further. Erik had spent all this time driving, now it was his turn to contribute to their travel efforts. He watched him wander off until he found a tree just appropriately sized for him to lean against, observing his struggles from the distance. Reluctantly, he looked down at the engine.
Well. It stopped smoking. That's gotta count for something.
He leaned forward. He wasn't utterly without knowledge when it came to cars, but during the time they had spent fending mostly for themselves in Oxford, Raven had picked up on this stuff way more easily than he did. Getting a mechanic any time their car broke down wasn't exactly an expense they couldn't afford, but she took up anything that got her hands moving. It was hard for her to find ways of passing the time when he was busy with school work. If only she were here right now...
But she's not. So focus. The CIA sought you out for your genetic research. Surely you can handle something as simple as this.
He reached forward. Mentally, he listed off every part of the engine he actually recognized. By name, that is. By function? The list shrunk to a considerably worrying size. He was just about to pick at something when he heard Erik laugh from behind. He turned in an instant.
“Enjoying the show?” Charles called.
“Oh, yeah. This is fantastic.” Usually, I like his smiles. But I'm not a fan of that shit-eating grin.
“You know, the longer this takes, the longer it's going to be before we get back.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. I don't think I'll be much more help, though.”
Once more, the pair faced the exposed engine together. They talked through what they knew could be an issue and what they knew how to handle. Again, it was a pathetically tiny list. In all their planning for these trips, how had they never considered this? Erik took this and that apart, but it didn't get them anywhere closer to the truth.
Then, a miracle. Perhaps a blessing. Someone driving by had spotted them, and chose to take pity on strangers. And they say Americans are without manners.
“Hey! You two need a hand?”
A truck driver. Charles thought if there was anyone to trust with car trouble, it was a truck driver. He stopped a short distance ahead and hobbled over, prepared for the task at hand – he brandished a large toolbox. A thing that the pair was missing, but for once, did not exactly need. Erik could do what a wrench could in half the time and with half the effort.
“Oh, that we do. Big time.” Erik snickered. Charles smacked his arm before the man got close enough to them to notice.
“Terrible place to break down. No one around for miles.”
“Mhm, yes. It's a travesty. Good thing you're here.”
“Good thing is right! Here, let me take a look at that.”
The truck driver turned out to be quite a chatty man, and Charles turned out to be just the right flavour of people pleaser to keep him talking long enough to give them the help they needed. Erik kept his distance. He muttered responses when the stranger directed a question to him personally, but he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead. What had before been a playful irritation slowly begun to turn to genuine, deepening dread. Charles knew where it was coming from, naturally. But this was not the time for discussing it.
Mr. Mysterious Truck Driver was actually from New York himself. He was delighted to hear that's where this whole trip had started for the pair. Oh, how lovely, Charles mumbled along, trying to subtly turn the man's attention back to their broken engine. He went on for some time about how profitable deliveries like these were, but how little time he got to spend with his family back home.
“My son, I tell you, he's going places. Such a smart kid. Just hope I manage to get enough money to put him through a good school, you know?”
“And how old is he now, if I may ask?”
“Only turning seven! You wouldn't be able to tell, with how bright he is!”
Charles turned to Erik. He rapidly shook his head. That was telling. Guess we're not bringing our kids into this, fine. Mr. Mysterious Truck Driver was humming something Charles was sure he'd heard on the radio before as he turned another piece, and...
“Ah. There's your issue. See?”
He then went on to explain a lot of technical things Charles did not understand, but nodded along to as if he did. He didn't even realize when he had finished his rant, and expected Charles himself to come to some sort of conclusion. He looked to Erik for help, but again, he was solemnly watching the road. Each car that zipped past only made him more uneasy. Mr. Mysterious Truck Driver awaited his response with baited breath.
“So, um... What are we supposed to do now, exactly?”
The man frowned. “You're gonna need a mechanic. A good one. This thing ain't moving on its own. And, well, I can't exactly tow you as I am...” He looked briefly to his truck. “But, you know what? If you can hold out here for an hour or so, I'll drive ahead and tell someone to come and get you. They'll help you out from there. I can't fall too far behind my schedule, you know. Time is money in this industry.”
“And you've got a family waiting on you.”
“That I do.”
The man winked. Charles noticed Erik had briefly glanced back at them, suddenly tense. Charles bit the inside of his mouth. It was hard not to let his anxieties affect him. Erik had already spilled so many of his own terrors into him. His worry for his children slowly merged with the light bond Charles himself had managed to form with them.
He spoke up again, if only to distract himself. “Thank you for all of your help, mister...?”
“Rogers, sir. And really, it's nothing. You never know when you're gonna be the one asking strangers for help, eh?”
The man had an exceptionally strong grip. Charles winced when he shook his hand. Watching the truck driver depart, he thought that the cold wind suddenly picked up. It was biting at him now, relentlessly. He joined Erik right at the edge of the road, watching the cars pass.
“Nice guy,” Charles muttered, earning himself a half-hum, half-grunt in response. He let the silence stretch on a little longer before he asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
“For the most part.”
He didn't want to speak so directly, but he shared the very same fears. Would they not be easier to bear together? “I'm... I'm sure the twins will be alright for another day.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“I mean it.”
Charles stepped closer. Unsure of what else he could do finding such a rigid wall of stress and heavy silence, he reached forward. He managed to pry Erik's arm away from him, his fingers slipping between the other's with ease. They fit like puzzle pieces. As if he was always meant to hold this hand as he did now. Gently, but with steady assurance.
And as it always did, Erik's body responded to the touch. Like liquid spilling from one place to another, it reshaped itself to fit, to be fully embraced. He pressed his arm closer to Charles, let his head rest against his partner's.
“You're shaking,” Erik muttered, his whole body trembling with the sound. Charles felt every small movement and revelled in it.
“It's... It's cold.” The unspoken lingered. It did not stay hovering for long.
“How do you expect me to be calm, when you're so worried yourself?”
“I guess that's the hard part. We just need to keep convincing each other of the one thing neither of us are able to fully believe.”
The cold only got worse when Erik slipped out of his grasp, walking back to the car. He shut the hood and took his seat on it. Charles was hesitant about joining him. Still, after all this time, he struggled with knowing for certain when the other needed closeness, and when he longed for more space. Erik was a conundrum. His mind screamed for both. His expression betrayed nothing.
Charles chanced the notion that, perhaps, he needed his presence. No one else's. He joined him on the car, not wasting any more time as he pressed himself close to him. The wind, colder by the minute, stopped mattering. This unique warmth could withstand the worst storms.
“I've felt every fear you hold in your heart.” Charles spoke quietly, as if sharing a secret. As if the whole world watched the side of this road, this broken car, this deserted strip of forest. “Time's an awful thing. We always seem to be racing against the clock.”
“It's hard not to. Ten, twenty years. Raising a child, it feels like an eternity. I was barely an adult myself when I started. But now, it's all...” He looked to the road, to mask whatever may reveal itself through his glossy eyes. “It all slips away so quickly. I feel like I'm wasting so much time. Packing up, running, securing another home. Repeat. Now this. I feel like I don't do enough. Every minute that passes, every minute I'm aware of, it's... What an agonizing feeling.”
Now that Erik spoke so openly, Charles was silent. He listened intently. “I've tried to... Whenever I got the chance, I've tried to teach them something. Anything. I'm all that's left of my family. I'm all that's left of the life I once had. It's all just a blurry memory now. I can't let it fade away. I have to keep it alive. I want them to keep it alive. It's a flame. It needs to be passed on, but...”
His shoulders slumped. He lifted his head, rubbed his eye. “On the run, you skip a holiday, then another. Suddenly there's no time for prayers and there's no time for history lessons. Everything needs to be practical, or a little voice in your head starts yelling, danger, danger, danger. They need to know how to fight before they can get comfortable enough to... To be.”
“It's so easy to lose parts of yourself. And once that happens, you start to question everything. Parts of you that were once a building block are taken out and everything collapses. You can rebuild yourself anew, but you'll never be who you were. I'll never be...” A shuddering breath. “It's hard to believe there was ever such a person as the boy my mother raised.
“And Pietro and Wanda, they're just... They're blank slates. All they know is survival. I swore I would spare them my own fate, but how is it any different to what I went through? I wanted them to hold parts of me, of my parents, my life. But I think the only thing of mine I'm going to leave them with is pain and anger and hate.”
He wasn't done. Charles did not interrupt. He could feel his next thought coming. That wave of agony, that great grief that accompanied it. He knew it as well as he knew every other part of Erik by now. He held his hand tight, reminding him he was there.
“And Magda...”
The name was such a heavy thing. He barely managed to get it off his chest, and once he did, he needed to take a moment to recover. Steady breaths. Tears, dancing at the very edges of his eyes.
“Amidst everything we shared, I never thought... I never thought to learn more about what she carried. Her family, everything she was forced to leave behind. The things she wanted to nurture, to let them live on. Her flame. I mean, how could we... What sort of people plan for their own death, and so young? We always thought we had time.” A dry chuckle. Irony laced it and made it sting. “That seems to be a pattern in my life these days.”
He had to wipe a tear at last. “An entire language, and they don't know a word. Customs and holidays, music and stories, all gone. Buried in that grave with her, because I never thought to ask. To... To admit they are her legacy as much as they are mine.” He lifted his head to the sky, letting the cool air calm him. “She was the one who picked their names. I never argued. And after she died, I made sure they kept her surname. It was the least I could do.”
Charles finally found his moment to interject. And regardless, Erik looked as though he needed a break. “There must be other people who followed the same path she did. Who lived that life. Who could teach your kids what she would have wanted them to know.”
“Finding people willing, that's easier said than done. America's not the land of the free they make it out to be. People are scared to be so open. You see yourself what we have to go through to track down other mutants.”
Charles only smiled. “All the more reason to make a better world. The type of world where everyone can put a little bit of themselves into everywhere they end up, and share it. No?”
Erik didn't want to follow his lead, his lips twitching into a set frown. He thinks me naïve. To look at the world in such a simple way. So be it. One of us must be naïve for plenty of hope to go around between us all. When we need it, he can bring me down to reality again. Let him be my anchor. Erik cracked soon enough, and nodded.
“A better world where restaurant dinners don't mean a thing?” he mused.
Charles leaned on his shoulder. “A better world where a kiss can be a kiss. No stirs.”
“No stirs. How pleasant that would be.”
The wind was only getting colder by the minute. Less and less cars passed by. The sun was starting to go down and the sky took on a bruised shade. Their idle conversation turned to one topic, then to another. Anything to pass the time. Anything to get their minds off fears and worries they both shared. The longer Charles spent with Erik, the more of him spilled over. Again, water reshaping itself, flowing into an empty space Charles now understood had always been waiting for him, filling him whole. Completing him in a way no one else could.
They had no choice but to hide in the back of the car, if only to spare themselves from freezing over. Any moment now someone would come their way. Any moment now, again, they'd be returned to their familiar facade. Any moment now, they would be forced to pretend before the whole world that destiny itself had not dictated they come together, like this.
It was only natural one of their exchanges would end in a kiss. This trip had been partially about making the most of the time they had together, in isolation – and if destiny also dictated they be stuck here for an extra hour or two, why not make the most of it?
Charles pulled him closer, still, after everything they had shared, never quite able to get enough. The feeling that took hold of him each time Erik’s hand brushed against his skin, each time his lips pressed to his, it was beyond all words, beyond all sense. How lucky were they, to finally have each other like this, always, no end in sight?
Erik leaned over him, shifted, and placed another kiss on his cheek, another near his ear. Charles buried his fingers in his hair and lost himself completely in every emotion that stirred within him. He did not have to watch what thoughts of his spilled, which he held close. With Erik none of it mattered. With Erik letting go felt natural.
Perhaps that was exactly why, when he shut his eyes and Erik was from his sight completely, it was all too easy to whisper, “I love you.”
Erik froze. In an instant he moved back. Charles didn’t realise how warm he felt, until their closeness was cut short and everything became frigid. He sat over him, breathing somewhat shallow as he tried to make sense of his words. Charles pulled himself up on his elbows. His bliss from mere moments ago dispersed into the all-at-once thin air.
“I’m- I’m sorry,” were Charles' next words, nothing else making sense in the moment. “That’s- I shouldn’t have- This is not the right time. Not the right place. I’m sorry.” Erik was still staring, downright shell shocked. “It’s too early! I didn’t mean it- Well, no, of course I did- It’s- That’s not-“
“Can you say it again?”
Charles was sure he misheard. Erik was no longer tense, but still keeping his distance, shoulders slumped. His tone, his eyes - like a pleading child. Charles had never seen him so utterly undone, before. There are words in life we think we may never hear again.
Quickly, Charles straightened himself. With a stern, focused tone - because it was a serious matter, now - he repeated, “I love you.”
Erik moved closer. Charles was relieved to be in his warmth, again. Could he ever really live without this? He cupped his face in his hands while Erik shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to the other's.
Quietly, almost meekly, he asked, “Can you…” His words trailed off.
Charles placed another kiss on his lips and reassured him, “I love you.”
“Please.”
Charles smiled, and right to his ear, told him, “I love you.”
And then between every kiss, between every touch, between every glance Charles told him, again and again, what he wished he could have said a million times before. Still, it could never be enough. It could never be worn out, it could never become overused, it could never lose its meaning. He’d feel Erik tense and shudder each time he whispered the words and he hoped, prayed, this would never change.
Someone had come, as the kind stranger who aided them promised. Their car was dragged away to the nearest town and they were dropped off at the only motel in the area. After enduring the cold, even these ancient, squeaky beds were a welcome reprieve.
Here, half-asleep, as they held each other close, Charles felt Erik shift. He placed a kiss on his back before he muttered, right into his ear, “I love you.”
Charles had never fallen asleep with such ease.
···◦○○♊︎○○◦···
He was inquisitive and stern, but longed for an escape as Angel had. Erik thought he shared Charles' calculating mind. Charles. How he treasured thinking of him, his name alone a thought of pure euphoria and tranquillity. For the very first time in his life, he was once more allowing himself to let his guard down. Next to Charles, the world was safe.
“Where to, fellas?”
“Richmond, Virginia, please.”
Once his every question was answered, he considered for only a moment longer. He took them up on their offer, as Erik knew he would. Safety was a thing so hard to come by. How could he let an opportunity like this pass him by?
In a cramped, banged-up taxi, Armando Muñoz made an important decision. Finally, their project was moving forward.