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Love and Loveliness in Metallic Concord
December 11th, 1966
‘Charles,’ Erik projected from upstairs, his mental tone full of a – rather unnecessary, in Charles’ opinion – deep-rooted long suffering, ‘Why, precisely, did you decide to set up a Christmas tree in our bedroom?’
Charles set down the ivory fountain pen, which had once belonged to his grandfather and he had been making use of to finish off the long list of Christmas presents for his loved ones that still needed purchasing, and replied, ‘It’s pretty, it smells just lovely – pine is one of the few scents that I can take in without being induced into a gagging fit – and it is rather appropriately festive, given the time of year.’
‘But, it’s a tree,’ Erik protested. ‘It’s got sap all over it and it’s shedding, Schatz.’
‘It’s only a small one, my darling, just five feet,’ Charles returned. ‘That’s less than a third of the size of the one the boys dragged into the great den. Besides, don’t you like the ornaments?’
The ornaments, every last one of them had been crafted out of shining and shimmering metals – pure silver, gold, copper, and platinum – and the star which capped the tree had been fashioned out of meteoritic iron. Because Charles knew how fortifying the presence of such elements were to his beloved metalbender, he had presumed that Erik would find it soothing to have such liberal amounts of the precious metals close at hand while he slept. Despite the protection that the shield promised them, Erik was… militant about the safety of their family.
Charles could hardly blame him for his overzealous feelings regarding the matter given, well, everything.
The forced dissolution of the Brotherhood, because most of them had been mercilessly killed, Charles’ own ruthless torture and near-death at Bolivar Trask’s vile hands. The discovery that Erik had nearly missed out on the most precious of adventures, namely, raising their children, because he had temporarily allowed his hatred to become stronger than his love – which had no mean power to begin with.
All of that had incurred an enormous impact upon Erik’s soul.
Erik had come home bruised and battered, but also far wiser than when he had abandoned Charles and their children – those unborn and those whom had grown up far too quickly on that miserable day – on that god-forsaken Cuban beach. That was not to say that his hatred for humans had abated completely – he barely tolerated Moira on good days, he privately thought that Adam should have never dared to marry a woman who was not one of their own kind for all that she had borne him a Mutant child, and his loathing for Trask was deeper and more potent than even his revulsion of Shaw had been – but that he had finally come to the realization, in a most painful manner, that there were things of far greater consequence to his heart than the dominance of homo sapiens ever could be.
Because he loved Charles in a fierce and abiding way, because his adoration of and devotion to their children was absolute, Erik had sworn to stand down. If there was to be a fight, then he would be at Charles’ side and not opposing him or, worse, inciting the war – he did not have Charles’ hope for peace, but he had accepted that the best way to see the man he treasured beyond reason and the family which they had created together safe from harm was to work as a team.
Charles felt Erik sigh in an exasperation tinged with no small measure of fondness before the other man sent, ‘You must have spent a veritable fortune, Charles.’
‘Hardly, love,’ Charles assured him and then, before Erik could point out that their respective definitions of what a ‘fortune’ was differed quite drastically, because there were only two individuals in America with more money than Charles had access to and Erik had grown up in near-poverty at times, ‘Anyway, I rather hoped that having so much metal at your disposal would help to disperse the night terrors. Bobby begged me several years ago to do the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ routine for all of the children and it has become something of a revered tradition by now. Everyone has a little tree in their rooms for Santa’s Elves to leave treats under each of the eleven nights before Christmas Eve – a bit unconventional practicing it in that manner, I know, but that is how we prefer to do it. No one shall ask any questions you may not wish to answer about the extra metal in here this way.’
‘I’ve told you a thousand times that I’m perfectly fine, Charles,’ Erik insisted earnestly, as if he could make the statement true through the sheer force of his, admittedly, often indomitable will.
Charles, who had experienced first hand the devastation of Erik’s nightmares – the increasingly vivid and horrible dreams that featured some rather distorted memories of their time as Stryker’s prisoners and left Erik, upon his waking, visibly desolate and nauseous and desperate to ensure that Charles was whole – simply sent back a wave of disbelief colored heavily with honest affection back at Erik.
‘We really need to discuss this inane tendency of yours to give into the children’s every whim,’ Erik announced, masterfully deflecting Charles’ attention onto a new topic of discussion. ‘You’re spoiling them.’
Charles chuckled lightly, ‘And yet, your disapproval sounds fairly resigned, my darling.’
‘You’re a hopeless case,’ Erik declared with mock solemnity, reaching out with his powers to manipulate the metal on their tree. Charles did not push to see what, precisely, Erik was doing – he was wary of using his powers on Erik too much, lest the other man decide that he did not wish Charles to be anywhere near his mind, after all. Admittedly, Erik had not yet voiced any manner of complaint regarding Charles’ ‘mind tricks’ since he and Raven had returned home or made any attempt to recover the damnable helmet he had won off of Shaw, but Charles was still inclined to use caution. ‘But, I love you anyway.’
Warmth infused Charles’ thoughts at that, ‘I love you too.’
‘Come upstairs?’ Erik requested.
‘Certainly,’ Charles responded, rising and then wincing ever so slightly. ‘Just let me run to the restroom first; your children are wrecking utter hell on my bladder.’
Amusement woven through with golden threads of joyous wonder – the latter had been almost ever-present in Erik from the moment that Adam had announced the existence of Charles’ second pregnancy – was paired with Erik’s answer, ‘Of course, Schatz.’
Carrying two less babies this time – Mutants were, according to Hank’s research, genetically predisposed to carrying multiple children at once; a quirk of their species that had been acknowledged as fact despite it not yet being fully understand – Charles was not quite as voluminous as he had been when he’d neared the six month mark of gestation during his pregnancy with the Quad, but that did not mean that he was small. At least he had not yet reached the waddling stage of things, though he was sure that it was almost certainly on its way.
Despite the fact that he had known, intellectually, that pregnancy was a possibility and was therefore not nearly as astonished as he had been in the December of four years’ previous – Charles seriously doubted that anything would ever be able to top that particular incident when it came to sheer shock value – learning that he was once more ‘in the family way’, as it were, had still been a surprise. He and Erik had yet discussed even the possibility of expanding their family, because they did, as a point of fact, rather have their hands full already, when Charles’ world had suddenly twisted on him in a bout of extreme nausea. After barely preventing Charles from tumbling down the main staircase, Erik had rushed him to Adam’s infirmary, wretchedly afraid that Charles was suffering from some sort of relapse because of Trask’s surgery.
One Mutant-powered medical scan later and Charles and Erik had been presented with the amazing repercussions of their single bout of unprotected sex – fueled by sheer relief and sacrosanct love – after Charles had woken, safe and mostly sound.
Erik’s happiness in that moment, and in so many moments after, had been incandescent.
The morning sickness had only lasted a few weeks before petering off, helped along by the special diet that Adam had designed, a diet which Erik and Sean were religious about Charles’ adhering to, Charles’ cravings be damned. Erik and Sean working together in this way, cooking special meals for Charles, had helped to start the healing process required to mend the damaged relationship between them and so, because Charles wanted all of their children to have faith in Erik, he submitted to the diet with only minimal grumbling.
Aside from the frequent trips to the bathroom, the pregnancy had been something of a breeze from that point on.
After relieving himself for the umpteenth time just that day, Charles used the newly installed elevator to reach the third floor of the north wing, where most of the family suites were located. The elevator had been the first of many compromises between Charles and Erik. Charles had agreed to use the installation for the duration of his pregnancy and Erik had promised to not attempt to carry Charles places in his own bloody house.
Entering their bedroom, Charles attention was almost immediately caught by the Christmas tree in the corner by the window. Except for the star on top, all the metal hanging from its boughs had been drastically rearranged in both shape and position. Instead of orbs and spirals, there were people – Charles and Erik and their big, beautiful family had been artfully designed and hung with care.
Everyone was present, even Moira, and many were displaying their powers in some way. Logan had his claws out, Bobby and Melody were blasting ice from their palms, Ororo was conjuring clouds, Sean was letting out a scream, and so forth. The little figures of Erik and Charles were holding one another close, Charles’ pregnant belly prominent, and looking at one another devotedly.
“Oh, Erik,” Charles murmured, voice filled with pleasure and happy tears welling up in his eyes.
Erik stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Charles’ waist, settling his hands on Charles’ protruding midsection reverently. He kissed the shell of Charles’ right ear with unabashed tenderness, “You like it then?”
“It’s beautiful,” Charles gushed, leaning back into the embrace with a small, satisfied sigh. “You’re beautiful, Erik.”
“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” Erik determined softly, cupping Charles’ face with one palm and turning Charles’ head ever so gently so that he could kiss him properly.
Charles adored kissing Erik; he rather adored doing pretty much everything that could be classified as ‘intimate’ with Erik, actually. When he was with the other man, the rest of the world seemed to just fall away from them and, for a few timeless moments, there was nothing that could touch them and no obstacle that they could not easily overcome. He was afraid of nothing and no one – even that niggling worry so often at the back of Charles’ mind, that Erik might someday decide to walk away from him again for one reason or another, faded into black.
After a minute or ten, Erik carefully broke the kiss, quite against Charles’ wishes, and levitated a singular strip of silver before them. As Charles looked on, utterly fascinated as he always was by Erik’s powers, the silver morphed into an elegant watch with a dozen tiny ‘X’s embossed around the edge of its gleaming face. Erik flipped the watch over and then used his gifts to painstakingly etch six words onto the otherwise smooth surface, ‘Ich Werde Dich Immer Lieben, Schatz.’
“Can I see your wrist?” Erik asked.
His breath caught in his throat, Charles held up his left wrist to Erik. Wordlessly, Erik fastened the watch into place; the clasp was a clever little thing that would be difficult to undo if one did not already know how to do so.
“It’s gorgeous, Erik,” Charles offered with real gratitude. The cool metal, brushed with the potency of Erik’s love for him, felt wonderful against his skin. “Thank you.”
It had been an altogether upsetting thing, when he had realized that the cuff Erik had gifted to him during their separation had been lost. It had been taken from him during the first bout of unconsciousness that Agent Stryker and Doctor Trask had been responsible for and had, thus far, been unrecoverable. After so long of having it to comfort him – of it being the only tangible basis for his undying hope that the one who made it would return to him – no longer being able to wear it had left Charles somewhat bereft.
Charles had scolded himself multiple times for the feeling, because Erik had come back to him, Raven had come back, and having them again was worth far more than any bracelet ever could be, no matter where it had originated from. Still, on a few occasions when stress or anxiety had begun to overwhelm him, he would reach over to touch it in an attempt to ground himself – a habit he had developed some time earlier that was now proving hard to break – only to remember when his fingers stroked flesh instead of metal that the cuff was gone. He had assumed that no one had noticed this custom of his, but, clearly, Erik had.
“You’re welcome,” Erik said, “I’m sorry it’s not the original, but I haven’t been able to sense it for some time now. It’s likely truly gone.”
Melted down or otherwise destroyed, Charles figured, because Trask was a bastard of the worst kind. He and his ilk were monsters and even Charles had no hope for their redemption.
“You’re here, my love, so I’d say that the tradeoff was more than worth it.”
“I don’t deserve you. Any of you, Charles,” Erik stated quietly, caressing Charles’ belly almost absentmindedly.
“Yes,” Charles retorted firmly, “You do, Erik.”
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree about that,” Erik informed him, as he always did when that particular topic arose between them. “Why, exactly, did our little iceman feel as if the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ thing is necessary?”
“Oh, well, it’s Sean’s fault,” Charles shrugged in Erik’s arms, “He mentioned his grandparents doing it for him once when he was young and Bobby was captivated by the idea.”
“Of course it is,” and Charles could feel the smirk that Erik was sporting even though he was in the wrong position to see it physically, “And I’m sure that your indulgent parenting methods had absolutely no bearing on the situation at all.”
“And I’m sure that I have absolutely no idea what you could mean,” Charles intoned blithely.
“And have no inclination to receive any further clarification on the matter, either,” Erik teased lightly, pressing another kiss to Charles’ auburn waves. How wonderful it was, that they felt comfortable teasing each other again. “Ich verehre dich, Liebling.”
Charles huffed a bit, despite the warm smile that the German words had elicited, “You are positively – Erik!”
Momentary alarm and confusion won out, because Erik had been yanked backward and away from Charles without warning, causing Charles to spin around in surprise.
“Charles, I’m not the one responsible for this!” Erik declared, a bit wildly since he was shocked by the sudden change in their situation himself, as he floated toward the doors of their bedroom.
On autopilot, Charles right hand flew up to his temple even as he cast his mind outward, seeking an explanation for what was happening. A moment later, he had one, a rather marvelous one, and delighted laughter burst from his lips as realization set in.
“Oliver has drawn you a picture, love,” Charles relayed, following Erik out into the hall, “And he wants to give it you right now.”
“What?” Erik demanded before understanding struck him. His eyes widened in a mixture of awe and pride in their son, “He has telekinesis, like Rorie and Jeanie?”
“Evidently so,” Charles confirmed, grinning widely, “And, apparently, he shares his sisters’ tendency to demand people come to him and not just things.”
“Wunderbar,” Erik said, more than a little pleased. “That’s three out of the four, Charles. I thought that secondary mutations were supposed to be rare.”
“That was the original hypothesis, but we knew far less about our people when it was made than we do now, and we learn more and more every day. Mutation is such an extraordinary thing, Erik.”
“Yes,” Erik agreed wholeheartedly, relaxing back into the grasp of their son’s newfound gift and trusting it to guide him toward where he needed to be, “It certainly is.”
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{THE END}
Translations
- Ich Werde Dich Immer Lieben, Schatz – I Will Always Love You, Sweetheart
- Ich verehre dich, Liebling – I adore you, Darling
- Wunderbar – Wonderful