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Erik sighed deeply. Of course. It had been a bit of a longshot, he'd known that. "Well, thanks anyway," he said, feeling even more defeated than he had when Wanda had fried the TV this morning, and she'd been inconsolable. It had taken him half an hour of cuddling to get her to calm down. He'd been lucky that Pietro had gone off to school earlier or he'd have had to console the both of them.
"Mr. Lehnsherr?" Hank spoke up, then paused. "You really, probably, should talk to the Professor."
Erik closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose.
"He'll be at the center this time of the day," Hank continued.
"I know where the hippie is," Erik muttered - more to himself than meant for McCoy's ears.
"Sir, please, the Professor is not a hippie, and he knows-" Hank began, his enhanced hearing picking up everything, of course.
"I know, I know," Erik grumbled. "Thanks, McCoy."
Leaving Hank behind, Erik stepped back out into the street. He'd more or less known that Hank wouldn't be able to help. Erik had been lucky a few months earlier when Pietro had manifested. At least he'd only run halfway out of the state before realizing what was going on, then he'd turned back round and managed to find his way home. Of course he'd slept for two days after that, freaking Erik and Wanda out.
Wanda's manifestation was ...a little more tricky. Obviously.
The Professor. Erik hated the fact that Hank might be right. And he was halfway down the street when he realized where he was heading. The Center. Where every mutant who couldn't stand on their own went; where you'd go if you needed help.
Pride… Erik sighed when he looked up at the sign over the entrance. He'd sworn he didn't need the help of another social service worker. Another do-gooder. Another person who was 'sympathetic to his situation' - whatever the hell that was supposed to mean…
Erik reached out for the handle then stopped, hand hovering over the curved metal of it. Why was he there anyway? They were a family, they'd always managed on their own. He had no idea for how long he was standing there, just staring at the door, as if it would yield all the answers to his questions.
Someone cleared their throat, behind him and Erik didn't so much startle as make the door handle bend in a ninety degree downward angle.
"Oh."
Erik turned around slowly and stared at the man waiting behind him on the steps.
"I'm sorry I startled you, my friend."
Erik just stared. Really, why he was so mesmerized by the man's appearances, he'd never understand. Short, geeky looking, clothes a little too hip with the young (even if the guy looked in his early twenties, Erik knew better).
Cheeks flushed, Xavier gestured at the door. "I'd invite you in, but I think we'll have a problem opening the door."
Erik stared at him, at first not really processing what he was saying, then feeling the flush of embarrassment before turning back to the door to fix the handle and the mechanism of the door when he realized he'd not only bent the handle.
"I.." Erik started. And he could go one way or another here. 'Not really in the right place.' 'Took a wrong turn.' What did come out was: "Sorry."
"Don't be," Xavier said, giving him wide smile. "Happens to the best of us."
Somehow Erik doubted that.
"Tea? Coffee?" Xavier asked, inching around Erik to get to the door.
Belatedly, Erik realized how rude he was being and stepped aside to let the man into the building. It was altogether possible that his reluctance to approach Xavier wasn't entirely logical. Erik hurriedly squashed any of the images that drifted to the surface of his mind.
Xavier pushed the door open and turned to wait for Erik to enter as well.
Taking a deep breath, Erik followed inside. The Center wasn't a huge place. The smallish entrance hall had an air of calm and inviting to it that should have made Erik feel more at ease, but only managed to make him focus on the man behind him.
"I'd hate to repeat myself," Xavier said with a small smile. "Can I get you anything? Tea or coffee maybe?"
"Oh," Erik suddenly caught up. "Coffee, if you don't mind."
Xavier nodded and pointed down the hallway. "My office is at the end. Go sit and relax and I'll bring you something. Milk, sugar?"
Erik wondered why Xavier didn't just glean it from his mind.
"Ethics, my friend," Xavier said as he turned and walked towards what was probably the kitchen. "But you're projecting rather loudly, so I am sorry for anything I might pick up involuntarily."
Erik stared after him wanting to say something, anything, then shook his head. He was aware that half his dislike of going to Xavier was that the man was a telepath. After having dealt with Emma's 'help' for a year he could really do without. The other half… Erik tried to think quietly. The other half was more down to the fact that the first time Erik had seen Xavier, the man had been bent over to pick up something. And the rush of lust that had hit Erik had been unsettling, especially after he'd found out who the man was.
He wasn't used to feeling that sort of physical attraction to anyone and it wasn't the fact that it was another male that had been unsettling, it was the fact that it had only grown when Xavier had stood up and continued talking to the young woman with the baby on her arm.
Shaking his head, Erik entered the office and to avoid pacing back and forth, he sat himself down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. It was comfortable and Erik let his gaze wander. It was a nice office, not huge, but full of personal pictures, some of them sporting scores of children in the professor's company, some of them, quite a few, showing a much younger version of him with a blue skinned girl.
Somehow, this, more than what people kept telling him about Xavier, made Erik relax. Family. Those pictures were family pictures, whether or not the children and the Professor were related by blood. All the pictures had the kind of family feel to it that Erik recognized.
"I must admit," Xavier mused as he set the cup of coffee down in front of Erik. "Mr. Lehnsherr, that Hank mentioned you in passing a while ago."
Erik wanted to scoff, wanted to ask if Hank had shared information that wasn't his to share. About Erik, about his family.
"Don't be too hard on the boy," Xavier said quickly, pushing the black framed glasses up on his nose as he sat down, not on the other side of the desk, but in the chair next to Erik's. "I asked him who you were when I saw you at a community meeting about a month ago."
Erik narrowed his eyes. "Why would you want to know?" he asked. Nothing good ever came from other people's curiosity.
Xavier pursed his lips, apparently fighting a smile. "I saw you and …" he trailed off, cheeks flushed. "I may have found you rather attractive," he admitted. "I guess afterwards I didn't expect to see you again - not when Hank told me that you apparently find me a bit of a hoax," he quickly continued.
Erik cleared his throat. Now that, he was pretty sure he'd never said to Hank. And attractive?
"Maybe hoax is a strong word," Xavier said with nod, "but I do that most of the people in this community have had really bad run-ins with social workers, and I don't have a social worker's background, let alone expertise-"
"What background do you have?" Erik asked curiously, taking a sip of the coffee. He wanted to bring the comment about attraction back into the conversation, but he had to admit, his curiosity was peaked.
Xavier shrugged. "I'm a genetics professor, tenured until last year when someone started questioning whether or not I had come by my Phd the 'right' way - whether or not I had come by my tenure without 'help' from my gift."
The comment was shared so easily that Erik was more than a little surprised. He'd have expected bitterness, at the very least.
Xavier shook his head. "I don't have to be a telepath to guess that you probably wouldn't have taken in it on the chin - and I didn't - trust me. I dragged them to court, won but decided that maybe Columbia wasn't the right place for me." He took a sip of his tea. "Let's just say I got a healthy look at how hard it can be to prove to people that you're not a threat, but just trying to make a living."
"I'm not sure that makes you more or less capable of helping anyone," Eriks said drily. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all, to have someone like Xavier on their side, someone who had seen the prejudice of the system themselves.
Xavier laughed, a little startled and a lot pleased. "Possibly, maybe," he admitted. "I've had students over the years who have come to me for help with controlling their abilities - and I found that I had a knack for understanding what they needed to learn to do so."
This brought Erik back to what he'd initially gone to Xavier for. "I'm here…" he started, then stopped. Maybe Hank was right, maybe he did need to share this with someone who could help. "I have two children - twins," he explained. "Pietro is capable of moving very fast, and manifested not long ago. A few initial mistakes and a few bruises is all he's got to show for it. His sister…"
Xavier sat forward in his seat, his intense focus more than a little unsettling. And, not to mention, more than a little hot.
"Wanda can influence technology, at least that's what I think," Erik said - it wasn't as if he'd talked to anyone who could define what she could do.
"Let me guess, she's finding her gift a little harder to control than her brother did his?" Xavier asked.
"I can manipulate metal and magnetic fields," Erik said drily. "I can relate." He'd had some pretty bad weeks when he'd manifested.
Xavier raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "I can see how, in this modern day and age of technology, not being in control would be upsetting to a child." He reached out and put his hand on Erik's -- the one holding the coffee mug. "Why don't you bring the both of them here and we'll see about giving Wanda some exercises that might help her gain the necessary control."
Erik stared down at the hand, feeling the heat of it warming it from the outside, while the heat from the mug warmed from the other. Quite frankly the heat from Xavier's hand was scalding but Erik made no move to push it away, even if he'd normally make his displeasure known when touched like this.
"Mr. Lehnsherr?"
"Erik," Erik managed to get out.
"Then it's Charles, and not Xavier, nor 'hippie', please" Xavier… Charles said.
Erik felt his face flush lightly. "Deal."
"I'm sure we'll find a way to help Wanda," Charles said warmly. "Don't worry too much."
And for the first time in ages, Erik felt like it wasn't so much of a platitude but a promise.
The end