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There was something wrong with Peter.
Erik had always kept a close eye on his son, especially since Nina, he couldn’t risk losing another child. However, Peter was in his late teens and had a speed mutation so keeping a close eye on him was quite difficult.
Erik had only found out about Peter being his son a few months ago, at first they were both quite hesitant around each other, neither knowing how to act around the other, until they were brought together through chess and the occasion dinner together by the persistence of Charles. Now the pair played a game of chess every evening in a secluded corner of the library, the game normally only lasting ten minutes with Erik’s experience and Peter’s speed.
However, these past couple of weeks Peter’s been acting off. He was still his chatty, energetic self but there was this saddened look he got when he thought nobody was looking, Erik didn’t believe any of Peter’s friends had noticed but Erik had and he was concerned.
Erik wanted to know what was wrong with his son so he could bring him back to his normal, energetic self but that would mean he’d have to have one of those heart-to-heart conversations with him, which was definitely more of a Charles thing.
“Checkmate.”
Erik raised his eyes to look at his son, who was gazing across the room with a lost look in his eyes.
“We can stop if you’re bored?” Erik offered. Peter’s eyes snapped to land on him, and a grin spread across his face when he saw Erik looking at him.
“Why? Scared I’m going to beat you, old man?” Peter joked, still grinning but in Erik’s eyes, it seemed a little too forced for his liking.
“I think we should stop,” Erik stated.
“It’s fine, I’m not bored or anything. Let’s carry on playing.”
“Ok…” Erik agreed hesitantly. The pair continued the game in unusual silence—a stark contrast to their usual matches, which normally consisted of Peter talking a mile a minute. A few minutes later, Erik won the game once again and reached across the table, moving to close the board.
“Wait!” Peter rushed out, his hand shooting across the table to grab Erik’s wrist with super speed. Erik froze at the panicked look in his son’s eyes, looking at him in concern.
“Why don’t we play another game?” Peter asked, looking worried as if Erik might leave him, his hand still tightly wrapped around Erik’s.
“What’s going on, Pietro?” Erik questioned, the concern dripping into his words but as the question left his mouth Peter drew his hand back as if the touch suddenly burned him.
“I’m great… Actually, you know what? I’m a bit tired so maybe we shouldn’t play another game,” Peter replied a little too quickly, flashing another grin that didn’t reach his eyes before moving to leave.
“Peter-“ Erik called out but before he could finish his sentence Peter had already sped out of the room. The sudden shift in Peter’s tone caught Erik completely off guard, leaving him momentarily frozen. One moment Peter had been insistent on staying and the next he was gone.
Erik let out a sigh of frustration, although he had to admit that he admired the speedster’s ability to dodge questions almost as fast as he could run.
Deciding that Charles would know best, he packed away the chess game and briefly exited the library, to seek out Charles.
He strolled towards Charles’ office, slightly more hurried than usual dodging the various mutant students wandering around campus on the way there, and found Charles sitting at his desk doing his work as always, typing away at his computer. Charles didn’t bother to look up once Erik walked in, but Erik knew he could tell he was there.
“I think there’s something wrong with Peter. He seems different. Upset. Do you think he’s upset? Have you noticed anything wrong with him?” Erik rambled on, pacing up and down Charles’ office. He broke out of his ramble to find Charles still typing away at his computer.
“Charles!” Erik demanded, “Were you even listening to me?!”
“Of course I was Erik,” Charles calmly responded.
“Well, have you got anything to say?”
“I’ll admit Peter seems slightly different but it doesn’t seem like anything drastic, he’s still acting like his usual self. He’s been himself in training, still as energetic as ever. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about Erik.” Charles reassured.
“But he’s not acting like his usual self, and I feel like I’m the only one noticing.” Erik muttered with a huff, “Can you read his mind for me?”
“No,” Charles stated, still typing away at his computer.
“What?! Charles, what if there is something wrong with him? And then what if-“
“No. For one that is a breach of his privacy. Secondly, I can’t. Peter’s thoughts go too fast for me to understand.” Charles replied calmly, still typing away.
Erik let out a sigh of frustration before stalking out of the room.
For the next few days, Erik kept a close eye on his son, purposefully being in the same room, whether it be reading his book in the common room when Peter happened to be there, leading Peter’s training sessions or quietly observing him during mealtimes, watching for any slip-up in Peter’s behaviour.
Eventually, Erik realised that simply observing Peter from a distance wouldn’t be enough anymore; he needed to reach out. The thought of initiating a conversation like this felt daunting, but Erik understood that taking a more direct approach was becoming more necessary.
One evening after dinner, Erik found himself standing in front of Peter’s door his fist raised hesitantly, wavering for a moment as he contemplated whether to knock. This was uncharted territory for Erik, aside from their chess matches and encounters around the mansion, the two rarely ventured into each other’s rooms. Finally, he rapped gently on the door, the sound echoing in the stillness. After a brief pause, he awkwardly stepped inside to find Peter sprawled out on his bed, headphones on and staring at the ceiling. Although he quickly sat up pulling the buds out of his ears once his gaze landed on Erik.
“Hey, uh…what’s up,” Peter asked a nervous smile flickering onto his face.
Erik hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to begin. He glanced around the room taking in the various music posters plastered on the walls and the scattered belongings - mostly video games - that littered the space.
“I just wanted to check in on you and see how you’re doing,” Erik said softly, trying to keep his tone light as he moved to sit on the edge of Peter’s bed.
“Yeah… I’m doing great,” Peter replied with a tight smile, his posture noticeably stiffening.
“I know you say you’re great but I can tell when something is bothering you,” Erik said gently.
“I’m fine, Dad. You don’t need to worry so much about me, y’know.” Peter insisted.
“I know… but you’d tell me if something was bothering wouldn’t you,” Erik’s tone was soft, though his eyes searched Peter’s intently.
Peter hesitated before speaking, “Erik I-“
A loud bang interrupted Peter as the bedroom door swung open abruptly causing the pair to jump in surprise and quickly turn towards the door. They turned to find Kurt standing in the doorway looking slightly dishevelled, his tail twitching nervously.
“Peter we need your help in the common room- there’s a situation with some of the younger mutants,” Kurt blurted out, his words rushed and breathless.
The urgency in Kurt’s voice made Peter jump up.
“Hold that thought - I’ll be right back,” Peter rushed out before speeding out of the room, Kurt hurrying after him.
Erik sighed, feeling like he had been on the verge of breaking through to Peter. Rising from the edge of the bed, Erik moved towards Peter’s windowsill, where a collection of cassette tapes and comics were laid out.
His gaze drifted across the room, eventually settling on Peter’s bedside table where a picture frame stood upright. Out of curiosity, he stepped closer and immediately recognised the figures in the photo- Peter, much younger, standing with his mother and little sister, his usual grin lighting up his face. The sight tugged a soft, rare smile onto Erik’s lips. As he reached towards the frame his fingers accidentally knocked against a small box teetering on the edge, sending the contents inside tumbling off the table, with the box following closely.
Instinctively, Erik reached out with his powers, sensing the metal inside and guiding it into his palm as the wooden case fell to the floor with a soft thud. It wasn’t until the weight of the objects settled in his hand that Erik glanced down, his eyes locking on the faint bloodstains smeared across the blades.
A wave of shock rolled over him as his heart sank, his fingers momentarily frozen, the weight of what he was holding sinking in. His hand trembled slightly as the realisation hit - these weren’t just random blades, they were stained with Peter’s blood. His own son’s blood. He recoiled, letting the blades slip from his fingers with a clatter onto the wooden floor, the sound echoing through the almost empty room.
Erik stood frozen momentarily his mind racing but before he could even begin to act, the door swung open and Peter sped in, standing next to him in an instant.
“It was just some mutants messing around with the television, I think they were trying to-” Peter’s words trailed off, his eyes finally catching Erik’s tense posture. Peter’s eyes furrowed in confusion until his gaze fell on the floor, where the blades lay scattered beside the now-open box. His face drained of colour, eyes widening in panic as they locked with Erik’s.
“Pietro…?” Erik’s voice was soft, filled with concern, as he reached out to grasp Peter’s hand. But his fingers closed around nothing - Peter was already gone, the room once again empty aside from Erik.
Erik stood still for a moment, staring at the spot where Peter had just been. Frustration bubbled up inside him, mixing with the worry that had been gnawing at him for days. How could he have let Peter slip away like that? Even though he knew, rationally, there was no way of slowing Peter down.
With a sharp breath, Erik pushed down the rising irritation at himself and quickly left Peter’s room, determined to find him. He moved swiftly through the mansion checking all of Peter’s usual places, first stopping by the common room, which was empty save for a couple of students lounging on the couches. And closely following this Erik moved into the kitchen hoping to find Peter making another one of his weird food contraptions, but once again there was no sign of him.
Then a thought struck him- the library. It wasn’t a certainty, but it was where they spent their time together, playing chess. With a flicker of hope, Erik headed towards the library, the soft hum of conversations and the occasional echo of laughter filled the air, but Erik barely registered any of it, his mind solely focused on finding Peter.
Eventually, Erik found himself standing in the middle of the library, glad to find it almost empty, save for a few lingering students. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before heading past the bookshelves towards his and Peter’s usual spot.
As Erik rounded the final bookshelf, relief flooded through him at the sight of Peter sitting at their table. However, that relief was soon overshadowed by concern as he took in his son’s demeanour. Peter sat in silence, his hands twitching at super-speed and his leg bouncing anxiously, seemingly oblivious to everything around him.
“Peter…” Erik prompted softly. Although Erik was only met with silence, Peter still spiralled in his own mind.
Tentatively, Erik moved forward and sat down in the chair opposite Peter, though Peter still didn’t seem to notice. Reaching across the table, Erik gently grasped Peter’s twitching hands which were moving in a blur. The sudden contact made Peter jump, instantly snapping him out of his daze. His eyes snapped upwards to meet Erik’s but as soon as they met Erik’s gaze shame quickly clouded his expression. Peter’s eyes darted around the room as if searching for an exit, his body braced as if he was ready to bolt again.
Peter shifted, his body subtly shifting to leave, but Erik tightened his grip just enough to keep him in place.
“Peter, please,” Erik pleaded softly, “You don’t need to run, all I want to do is help.”
Peter remained silent his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet Erik’s. But at least he had stopped moving, his body no longer tensed ready to leave. Still, Erik couldn’t help but notice how Peter’s shoulders were hunched curling on himself.
With a resigned sigh, Erik rose out of his seat and moved around the table to stand before Peter. Gently, he grasped the edges of Peter’s chair, twisting it slightly to face him. Taking Peter’s hands once again into his own, Erik knelt in front of him, trying to catch his gaze, though Peter only bowed his head further.
“Peter, please talk to me. I can see you’re hurting, and all I want to do is help,” Erik said softly. He released Peter’s hands, before moving his own upwards to lightly cup Peter’s cheeks.
Finally, Peter lifted his head ever so slightly, his eyes barely meeting Erik’s. The sight made Erik’s heart clench- Peter’s eyes were glassy, filled with unshed tears, his expression broking.
“Please,” Erik whispered again. That one word seemed to break through to Peter and in that moment Peter cracked.
His face crumpled and tears began to spill from his eyes, he attempted to turn his face away from Erik, trying to hide them from Erik, but Erik just tightened his grip on Peter, one of his hands moving to cup the back of Peter’s head and the other lightly wiping away Peter’s tears.
The comforting gesture seemed to evoke a response in Peter, as Peter fell forward slightly into Erik’s grasp, burying his face into Erik’s shoulder, muffled sobs now slipping out.
“It’s alright, just let it all out, I’ve got you,” Erik mumbled into Peter’s ear, his hand now lightly combing through Peter’s silver hair.
As Peter’s sobs quieted into shaky breaths, he hesitated, almost as if gathering the courage to speak, Finally, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at his hands, his voice barely a whisper.
“I don’t… I don’t think I’m what you wanted,” Peter admitted, his fingers fidgeting as he avoided Erik’s gaze. His words made Erik tilt his head slightly in confusion, though his grip on Peter remained steady, “I try, but… I feel like I’m constantly failing. Like I’m supposed to be more than… this. I mean, I’m your son. And everyone expects me to be more, but I feel as if that’s something I can’t be.”
Erik’s expression softened, a mix of empathy and understanding cossing his face. He took Peter’s hands firmly, grounding him.
“Peter, you’re not defined by what others think you should be and you certainly don’t have to live up to some idea of what my son should be,” Erik murmured, his tone softening, “I already know who my son is — and you’ve proven yourself to me more than you realise. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone else.”
Peter’s eyes softened, his head lifting slightly to meet Erik’s eyes, “You really mean that?” he hesitantly asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Of course I do,” Erik stated, his hand moving up to grip the back of Peter’s neck firmly.
“Peter, listen to me,” Erik said softly, keeping his tone steady, “Finding those blades in your room… it scared me. If you ever get to the point where you’re hurting yourself or feel the need to, please, come to me,” he urged, squeezing Peter’s hands for emphasis. “You don’t have to go through that alone. I’d rather know, even if you think it’s hard for me to hear. Let me be there for you.”
Peter gave a small nod, hesitant glimmer of gratitude breaking through his sadness, swallowing hard as he whispered, “I…I’ll try. I don’t know if I can, but…I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” he replied quietly.
Peter hesitated for a moment, his hands still in Erik’s, then he moved closer, wrapping his arms around him in a tentative hug. “Thank you, Dad,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Erik let out a steady breath, returning the embrace, pulling Peter in firmly and resting a hand against the back of his head. Letting the warmth of the moment speak the words he didn’t need to say.