Archive of Our Own

10 minutes before the snap

Charles was on his way to Genosha's main administrative building when Erik came out of it, the rest of the council not far behind. There was a sense of urgency hanging in the air, and Charles was sure he was not the only one able to feel it. Nevertheless, Erik greeted him with a quick kiss before nodding towards the main road, Charles instantly wheeling himself in the same direction to follow him.

“So, do you know what’s going on?” he asked. 

Erik sighed. “Not exactly. Though we’ve been confirmed that something important is happening right now in Wakanda.”

“A fight?”

Erik hesitated. Charles knew this last-minute council meeting was confidential and that they had probably decided not to reveal any details to the citizens until they had more information. But Charles was usually the exception to this rule, and everyone knew that. Besides, due to his telepathy, he was already partly aware of the situation. Thanks to their contacts, they knew something was wrong in Wakanda at the moment, and they had just received a call from them to confirm the details. Hence the urgent meeting.

“We didn’t gather much, but…” They took a turn on a street. There was a consensus to start defense preparations in case of an attack, and also to be prepared for an eventual evacuation. 

Charles frowned at Erik’s projection in between their conversation. It was something they did regularly, but mostly when there were other people around. At the moment, he was sure no one else was listening. 

Erik continued out loud. “It seems the Avengers, or at least a large group of heroes and soldiers, are fighting aliens in Wakanda.”

“Alright.”

Charles was not completely aware of what the protocols of defense and evacuation were. Even though he had been living in Genosha for almost two years, he had been adamant about not getting involved in any leadership or power position. But he knew every house in Genosha had emergency kits, and boats or jets assigned to each one of their residents for evacuation in case of… well, something like this. Though he wasn’t sure if ‘alien invasion’ had been a specific concern among the council when they’d discussed this.

A quick scan of Erik’s most recent memories, and Charles was able to gather the broad scope of their plan. He was headed to the port right now, being assigned to inform the people in charge there about the situation. Other members of the council were doing the same with the hangar, and the rest of them were gathering their defense team. Plan A was to defend the island, but they needed to have escape routes ready.

“And do we know what these aliens want?” Charles asked. Is it an invasion? Is that why we’re evacuating?

Not evacuating, Erik corrected him, preparing to evacuate, in case our defenses aren’t enough. And that’s just in case we’re attacked as well; we don’t really know if that is going to happen. But… you know. I think we can agree it’s best to always expect the worst.

Right.

“ Someone named Thanos wants an important object located right now in Wakanda, but they wouldn’t tell us the details.” Erik was clearly frustrated. It could be said that Genosha had a good relationship with Wakanda, and they wanted to maintain it, given that establishing commercial relationships with other countries had been challenging. But it was obvious Wakanda held the upper hand in everything. So, they had the privilege of holding up information if they wanted to. Informing them about the danger on the continent had been a courtesy. A heads up, so they could be aware of the situation.

“Alright,” repeated Charles. “This is not the first time the Avengers have fought against aliens.” It wouldn’t be the first time for them, either, but Charles didn’t want to go there. He was trying to be reassuring. There was a good chance the situation was under control. He certainly hoped so. He had not had the chance to meet the Avengers in person yet, but he was sure they were a perfectly capable team, even if they had supposedly broken up a while ago.

“Yeah,” said Erik. They were getting off the main roads now, and Charles felt Erik's power helping him wheel his chair through the rougher terrain. He faintly sensed Erik making a mental note to include pavement maintenance on their list of pending works at the next council meeting. “And we don’t really have a reason to think they could be headed here next, but…”

Charles nodded in understanding. It probably wasn’t the time to think about this, but he felt so proud of Erik, of the nation he had built from nothing with his very own hands. They were a relatively new country, having barely over two hundred residents. But they had come so far in the last few years, building so many new houses, implementing electricity and water systems, a hospital, a school. And they had an effective council, ready to organize and respond rapidly in case of a possible threat. Charles certainly couldn’t feel prouder about Erik’s work– 

Something’s wrong.

Erik stopped in his tracks at Charles' abrupt projection, though he was not sure he meant to do that.

Erik, something’s wrong, he repeated into his mind, now with intention.

“Charles?” 

It took him a moment to realize Erik was crouched down in front of him, concern written all over his face. He felt wrong. He felt his mind foggy and ice-cold at the same time. He felt empty, like something was draining him from within. That was when he realized the magnitude of what was happening.

They’re shutting off. Oh god, Erik. Something terrible is happening.

He felt sick. He could hear them with a disturbing clarity: screams of terror everywhere, exploding inside his head. He was sure the voices came even from very far away, and dread filled him instantly. He tried to block them, only to realize he could still hear them on the outside, on the streets, inside the houses nearby. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He felt death. Pure death sweeping through their island, through the continent, through the whole world, shutting off mind after mind after– 

“Charles? Liebling, please, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” At this, Charles noticed he was clutching his own head tightly, accidentally digging his nails into his temples. He sensed Erik trying to gently remove his hands from his face, his voice trembling a bit. Was he feeling this, as well? 

He tried to find comfort in Erik's calloused but tender hands, which had brought him back so many times from horrifying nightmares and haunting memories. But his touch disappeared suddenly, replaced instead by the feeling of ash falling all over him.

Charles opened his eyes just in time to see Erik being unmade, turning into a pile of dust in front of him.

And then, he began to scream too.

Three months after the snap

Eventually, Charles returned to the mansion. It was obvious, in retrospect, how unbearable it became to be in Genosha–in their house–without Erik. It had taken him no more than a month to make this decision.

He had spent the first couple of days after the snap in bed, too overwhelmed with the grief felt all across the island. All the voices mourning their loved ones, he could feel their pain as well as his own inside his head.

So, when he had eventually emerged from his house, he had already partly known their situation before Louisa, one of the council members and a close friend of his and Erik’s, explained to him the details. 

The situation was this: half the population had disappeared. Died. The day it happened, after some hours of silence, it seemed a message had been broadcast through the whole world. The Avengers had lost in their fight against Thanos, who had actually erased half the universe population with a snap of his fingers, and then had retreated from Earth. He wasn’t a threat anymore, but that left little comfort for anyone. 

Proportionally, things were similar in Genosha: a little more than a hundred citizens had avoided been turned into dust. Of the seven council members, four were left. And there was so much work to be done, as everyone’s job on the island was essential, and they had lost doctors, gardeners, architects. Not to mention, no one had been spared from losing a loved one.

So Charles had tried, in the beginning, to help in what he could. He had tried to push through his growing headaches and went out to do his part. Genosha was his home after all; it had been for the last two years. He knew these people. He knew Julia next door had lost her brother, and Martin down the street had returned home that day to find his wife gone. But he soon discovered it was too much for him.

Each day, he dreaded going back to an empty house, an even emptier bed. And then, he began dreading leaving the house, every part of their island screaming Erik all over the place.

He felt bad about leaving everyone behind, but he was hardly the only person whose response to all this was to try and escape his memories. So, no one had argued when he’d called Kurt to please get him out of there. After all, he had received news from the mansion as well: as expected, half his family was also dead. Peter, Scott, and so many of the students. All turned into dust.

And so, he had gone back to the mansion. But his grief, raw and so unbearable, had not gone anywhere. Neither had the voices.

Even if his head felt like it was exploding the whole time, he had also tried to help around the school in the beginning. No teaching, though, as he didn’t feel stable enough to get involved with the students again, but he couldn't just be there and not do anything to contribute, even though this was still technically his house. Some of the remaining kids had gone back home to be with their families, but most of them were returning for the resumption of classes. 

The world hadn't stopped. There were study plans to be made, classes to teach, logistics to plan for the maintenance of the school: groceries to order for the common kitchen, office supplies, materials for the lab. He had forgotten all the work that had to be done. 

He was also starting to forget how Erik’s arms felt around him when he held him through the night.

And so, after a while, he had retreated too. Another month had gone by with Charles barely getting out of his room, drinking more frequently than he should to shut up the voices. He sensed the others wanted to talk to him, but stopped themselves, not knowing exactly how to approach him. Charles didn’t blame them. Even though he had called a couple of times while he was living in Genosha, they almost hadn’t seen each other in two years, since he left them after Jean’s death. And anyway, he didn’t want their words. They couldn't possibly understand him. They couldn’t know what it was like to lose the love of your life while feeling the grief and suffering of the entire world in your head, their voices louder than ever.

So now, Charles was drinking himself into oblivion on the common kitchen floor. How had he gotten there from his wheelchair? He had no idea. What hour was it? He knew even less.

“Charles?”

Someone turned on the lights, making him squint. Even in a haze, Charles could tell it was Hank. Despite being in his blue form, concern was evident on his face.

“Shit, Charles,” he said, getting closer. He couldn’t even protest when he felt Hank taking away the bottle of liquor he was clutching and carrying him up into his wheelchair again. He handed him a glass of water, which he reluctantly drank. “It's 3:00 a.m.”

When he didn’t answer, Hank shook his head disapprovingly. “And there’s school tomorrow,” he continued. “Were you expecting some kid to find you passed out in the kitchen first thing in the morning? Shit, Charles.” 

He began pushing him through the hallway and into the elevator, and before he knew it, they were back in his room. 

He should be angry. He should be telling Hank not to move his wheelchair, the only one permitted to do that was Erik. But to be fair, he wasn’t very aware of his surroundings at the moment. Oh, and also, Erik was dead.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as Hank helped him transfer to his bed.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. His features softened a bit, giving way to pity. Charles hated it. “I know this isn’t easy.”

Charles chuckled. He was still very drunk. “This must be satisfying to watch.”

“What?” 

He felt like he wasn’t supposed to say this, but the words escaped Charles' mouth before he could give them a second thought. “You know, you lost Raven because of me, and now I’ve lost…”

“What are you talking about?” Hank interrupted him, anger and hurt coming in waves out of him. “This is in no way satisfying, Charles. Half my family, half my students are… Do you really think I could be able to feel any kind of satisfaction from this?"

He was about to mumble an apology again when he vaguely remembered Erik, so many months ago, back when Charles had just arrived at Genosha. He had told him to stop apologizing. It seemed like he said sorry too much, his guilt over Raven, over Jean, so fresh back then. He doubted himself so much, and he'd come a long way trying to regain his confidence, with Erik supporting him every step of the way. But now he was back at the starting line.

“I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, Hank, I really am. I don’t know what I was…”

The voices were getting louder again. He found it a bit difficult to breathe.

“Yeah,” said Hank, exhausted. “It’s okay, you’re drunk. I know you didn’t mean it.” But you said it anyway, went unsaid. 

“No, I’m serious,” he insisted. He needed Hank to know that. He hadn’t meant to be hurtful, but it was difficult to think, now that he was still under the effects of the alcohol, but not enough to muffle the screams inside his head.

“And I am too, Charles,” Hank said, beginning to turn around. He clearly wanted to get out of there. “You should go to sleep, it's late.”

“I can’t.”

“Charles, please…”

Some student downstairs was having a nightmare: their best friend turning to dust in front of them. He could feel their terror as if he were the one living it.

“I can’t.”

“Charles.”

“You have to make them stop,” he begged. “Please.”

“What?” Hank froze, still standing just beside his bed, confused.

“You can make the serum again, can’t you?” He pleaded again, grabbing Hank’s shirt tightly. He probably looked crazy. He felt like he was going crazy. Charles realized he was short of breath, his words hurting his throat as he pushed them out. “You can give it to me, and then the voices will stop. I don’t even care about my legs anymore, Hank. I just want the voices to stop. I want them gone, I want… I want Erik. I want Erik back.”

“Oh, Charles…” 

He felt pity radiating all over the place, and he hated it. He hated all of this. 

He spent the next day in his room, too embarrassed and hungover to get out. At some point, Ororo knocked on his door to bring him lunch, and Charles accepted it, only because he was starving. But after grabbing the tray of food, he lightly gave her a mental nudge, so she wouldn’t ask any questions before leaving him alone again.

He knew he would have to face Hank eventually, but he was probably busy with school and classes right now, so he had a bit of time to torture himself by replaying the events of the early morning in his head.

In his drunken haze, Hank's thoughts had crossed his mind, but he hadn’t been able to grasp them at the moment. But now, he began to remember them. He saw these thoughts clearly: how Hank had been thrown back to those dark times after Cuba, after Sean and Alex had left, when Hank had been forced to watch Charles slowly shutting down and becoming a complete mess, addicted to the serum he had created. How tediously familiar it had been for him to find Charles drunk somewhere in the mansion, how similar and how differently painful had seemed his grief over Erik.

Charles didn't remember much after his meltdown, when he had foolishly asked for Erik again and again, through gasping breaths and miserable tears. He must have fallen asleep at some point, but he didn't know how long Hank had to witness the state of him before he could also go back to rest.

He closed his eyes in embarrassment. Hank had seen him at his worst before, but this somehow felt more humiliating. The thing he had said about Raven… about the possibility of Hank enjoying seeing him like this… After all these years, it seemed like he had never learned not to say the worst thing possible to the people he loved.

It was almost sunset when Hank knocked.

“Come in,” he said, sitting up in his bed. There was no point in avoiding this any longer.

Hank walked into his room instantly, and he lost no time before grabbing the desk chair, sitting in front of him. There was a moment of silence, during which Charles considered what he should apologise for first, but Hank beat him to it.

“I'm sorry, Charles.”

He was sure the surprise was evident on his face. “No, Hank, I’m the one who needs to apologize,” he said, frowning a little. “I said some insensitive words last night, and I should never have asked for the serum. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, to begin with.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” nodded Hank, giving him a wry smile. “But I’m not talking about that.”

“What do you mean?”

Hank sighed. “I realized I never apologized for what I said to you the night Raven died.”

Charles was out of words. He didn’t expect this at all.

“I should’ve never blamed you for that,” Hank continued. “I was hurt, so I said hurtful things. That wasn’t fair of me.” He paused, and Charles could tell his words were practiced, but not insincere. “I still think you were wrong for blocking Jean's memories, but I know your decisions were made out of love. You only wanted to protect her, I get that.”

“Hank…”

But Hank lifted his hand a little, a sign to please let him finish. “What happened to Raven was a result of everyone’s choices, including hers. But it wasn't your fault. It was no one’s fault.”

Charles just took it all in, and Hank gave him a sad smile, stating their conversation finished. He stood up, and with a light pat on his shoulder, he left the room.

One year after the snap

“We missed you at the ceremony today, Professor,” said Ororo, appearing on Charles’ right side. Hank and Kurt followed her, standing together next to her.

“I apologize,” he responded. “You must understand it wouldn't have been a good idea for me to be there. Too much grief in all their minds.”

“That’s fine,” said Hank, with a reassuring smile. Their relationship, while still fragmented, had begun patching itself with time and effort.

“I did hear that Bobby and Kitty gave some lovely speeches.”

“They did,” said Kurt. “They are very sensible kids.”

Today marked one year since the snap. The school had organized a short ceremony to remember the deceased, and then gave the students the rest of the day off. Charles had waited until they were all away before coming to the memorial stone engraved with the names of the students and teachers who had vanished, not too far away from the mansion, but hidden enough to be a private place.

Or almost private, since his kids had already found him. Though that wasn't fair, he knew they were mourning too. Scott, Peter, half of their students.

They had made it through a very rough year, and they had to put up with so much. To put up with him. He had to admit he had a lot of cranky days, and his sadness was contagious most of the time. But he was making a huge effort holding himself together, if not for himself, for what was left of his family. At least, he had made a promise to Hank not to get drunk in any common areas at 3:00 am again, and so far, he was keeping it.

He couldn't believe a year had already passed. And suddenly, just like grief, a memory slammed into his mind, so unexpected he couldn't breathe for a moment.

He remembered his first anniversary as a resident of Genosha. He recalled how he hadn't thought about it as an important date, not until Erik pointed it out that morning and told him he had prepared something special for him later in the day.

Which turned out to be a dinner by the beach, just before sunset. Charles had fondly pointed out how Genosha had turned Erik into a very soft old man. He, of course, had protested, but his flushed smile couldn’t have fooled anyone. And sappy as well, Charles had added, which drew out a laugh from Erik. Charles had thought he could've gotten drunk from that sound alone. Who needed a glass of the very expensive wine Erik had made sure to get imported just for him?

Then Erik had taken out a chessboard, and right after Charles won the match, Erik had let it slip out.

Marry me.

That had sobered him up.

Erik, I…

“It was a nice detail, Hank,” said Charles as he returned to the present, his voice choked up from the memory. “To include Erik’s name in the memorial. Thank you.”

There, he traced the engraved letters in the stone. It was right at the bottom of the list, below the names of all the deceased teachers.

“It felt right to do it,” answered Hank, giving him a tight smile.

Charles felt truly grateful for it. Something that had been particularly difficult from these losses was the lack of bodies to mourn. Charles had found himself struggling to grasp the fact that Erik was dead at first, given that he had just disappeared in front of him. And he knew that he wasn't the only one who had gone through the same, being able to sense the confusion in so many other minds. So, he found some comfort in having a physical place to mourn Erik, to trick his mind into thinking he could somehow be closer to him by visiting the memorial.

He knew that there was also a place like this in Genosha, but he appreciated that Hank had thought about him, given that he had no intention of going back there anytime soon.

After what felt like an eternity of comfortable silence, Charles decided to take his leave.

The voices had finally lowered down after the first few months, so Charles had begun to feel a bit calmer again, but days like this were a challenge. Having his kids so close, feeling their grief as well as his own, was starting to take a toll on him. He knew they were trying to block their thoughts to protect him, but he could still grasp some notes of sadness from them. He needed to be alone for a while. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to the house now,” he said, giving them a sad smile. He looked at their faces, and they weren't his kids anymore, they were fully capable and grown adults, so strong in the face of hardship. Hank, doing a great job as the school’s headmaster. Ororo, diving into teaching with an innate ability. Kurt, becoming a trusted teacher and friend to all of the students.

While he wheeled away, a fleeting thought crossed his mind, making him feel so guilty after it passed. He had briefly thought about how he was relieved that Peter wasn’t here, because recognizing Erik’s features so clearly in his son’s face right now would've been completely unbearable. He felt sick just thinking about it.

That night, Charles dreamt of Erik.

Marry me, he’d repeated in the dream.

And Charles had instantly nodded, so sure of his answer now. I’ll marry you, Erik.

And Erik had smiled so brightly, Charles had woken up with a hint of a smile as well, his heart feeling a long-forgotten warmth. But then, he remembered how things had actually happened.

“Marry me.”

“Erik, I… we… how?” Charles froze, his brain struggling to supply him with excuses. “It’s not even legal.”

“It is legal here,” countered Erik, his smile slowly fading. “You know the law. Any two consenting adults can marry each other, no matter if they’re…”

“... human or mutant,” completed Charles. “Yes. I know this, Erik.”

“So?”

“It says nothing about gender,” replied Charles, knowing he was not making much sense.

“Well, no,” conceded Erik, frowning, “but nowhere it’s stated that marriage in Genosha can only be between a man and a woman.”

“I know, but…”

“And so what?” he insisted, his words getting a little heated. “Do you really think someone is going to complain? Everyone here knows about us, Charles. And we’re hardly the only queer couple on the island.”

“Alright, that is true, but…” It broke his heart to see Erik’s face, slowly realizing that he was not getting a yes that night. “It’s too soon, Erik.”

Erik stayed silent. It was a real but refutable statement. Yes, they had been officially together for less than a year. But they had been waltzing around each other for more than thirty years. 

“Charles…” His sadness was tangible, and Charles felt so bad, so wrong for making him feel that way.

“I’m not saying no,” he interrupted him urgently, but Erik just looked at him, defeated. “I just, I can’t. I can’t do this yet, Erik.”

And Erik, whose younger version would've probably already stormed off in anger and humiliation, proved himself a changed man. This Erik, so understanding and sweet with Charles, just nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Okay.”

Don’t you see it? He wanted to say. He wanted to scream. I can't do this because what if it doesn't last? When have good things ever lasted for the two of us? They had lost so many things, so many people, and he was so afraid of losing this amazing, this unbelievable thing they had managed to create from the rubble of their so complicated relationship. The last year in Genosha had been blissful, but what if they were flying too close to the sun?

But instead of saying all that, he just grabbed Erik's hands across the table, an attempt to comfort him. 

“Will you please ask me this again later, maybe in a few months?”

And Erik had just nodded his head yes, before kissing their joined hands and calling it a night.

Two years and eleven months after the snap

Charles was sure he was only putting himself at risk of having a breakdown. Which would be a pity, given how much his life had begun to gain a sense of normalcy again.

He was back in Genosha to retrieve some stuff from his old house. He knew this was long overdue, and for some reason, his mind was telling him he couldn’t let the three-year mark pass without him doing this.

“I could stay outside, Professor, if you want,” said Kurt. He had teleported them to Genosha, insisting that Charles didn’t need to take two planes and a ferry to get there when he could do it for him in an instant. So now, he was standing in front of his and Erik’s house, unsure of what to do next.

“No, no. Come in, Kurt, please,” responded Charles. He didn’t add that he felt like he was close to fainting, and having him near was also a precaution.

The house had been left untouched since his abrupt departure. Or, well, mostly untouched. Their neighbor, Julia, had told him she had put bed sheets to cover the furniture, trying to avoid them from getting all dusty.

Charles could throw up just thinking about a layer of dust covering his house. Dust was everything that Erik had left behind when he’d disappeared, rapidly carried away by the wind.

He breathed once, twice, trying to calm himself down. He was there with a purpose, and he needed to focus on that.

Almost three years ago, when he’d left Genosha behind, he had been so desperate to escape that he had barely packed the essentials before going to the mansion. But now, he felt ready, or as ready as he could be, to come back and retrieve some of his and Erik's stuff.

Charles slowly wheeled himself through the small living room, letting the memories flush into his mind with little resistance. He knew it was no use to fight against them.

He remembered the day he had moved into Erik’s house, how easy he had made the whole process. He’d been surprised to find the place had been constructed with all the accommodations that a wheelchair user would need. Which was obvious in retrospect, given how insistent Erik had been to bring him here. He had clearly been prepared for it.

He remembered the first time they had kissed again in so long, right there on the couch. It had been during his first month in Genosha, as they had clearly not wanted to waste any more time without each other. But it had also been a difficult time for Charles, his mind full of grief and guilt from losing Raven and Jean so recently. 

Back then, he felt like he didn’t deserve that happiness. And he was so sure it wouldn’t last. He had been bracing himself for the inevitable: Erik would get tired of him eventually and leave him, like he always did. Or he would scare Erik away with his inopportune words and bad decisions. 

But that had not happened.

“Do you need me to pack anything, Professor?” asked Kurt, hesitantly, bringing Charles back to the present.

“Ah, yes,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them, but he knew they were still there. “There are picture frames on the coffee table and on the shelf next to the sofa. Could you please…?”

“Right on it,” answered Kurt, who left a cardboard box on the floor and started doing as asked.

“There are some notebooks as well,” he added, “and a few decorations, I think. Just put everything on the shelf in the box, please.”

There was nothing perishable in the small kitchen, so it was almost empty, but Charles took a look at it anyway. “These mugs too”, he said, putting them on the counter. “I think Julia gave us some newspapers to wrap up any fragile objects.”

“Yeah, here,” said Kurt, handing him some, and Charles began to wrap the mugs. Their kettle came into his mind while doing that, so he took it out of the cabinet and put it beside the mugs. He knew he didn’t actually have any use for it, but Erik had made it, as well as the silverware, so he wrapped those in a dishcloth and placed them on the counter, too.

He passed everything to Kurt, who had finished putting the other stuff in the box.

“Alright,” sighed Charles, bracing himself. The next part was going to be the hardest one: going into his and Erik’s room.

That’s when he noticed Kurt was watching him, probably about to ask him if he was okay, so he decided to just get it done, if only to avoid the question.

He opened the door, getting a bit dizzy.

“You okay, Professor?” asked Kurt, inevitably, and Charles nodded, composing himself.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He turned his hands into fists, in an attempt to stop them from shaking, and took a deep breath. “Kurt? We're gonna need another box, I think we’re gonna pack everything that's in the closet.”

“No problem.”

And so he spent the next half hour handing Kurt every piece of clothing he and Erik owned. He noticed they didn't smell exactly like fresh laundry, but they were not in a bad state either. He made a mental note to thank her neighbor, who had probably kept the closet ventilated and probably even washed the clothes a few times.

He knew what that meant, though: that eventually, when he took out one of Erik’s jackets and tried it on, he wouldn’t be able to smell his scent on it. It wasn’t as if he expected it, anyway. It had been almost three years, and the alternative would have been ruined clothes, but he still took a moment to accept this loss.

When they finished with the closet, Charles pointed Kurt towards his bedside table. It was probably empty, as he had packed those things before leaving the first time, but Kurt checked it anyway. There was some expired analgesic gel in the first drawer, but the other one was empty. Charles asked him to throw it away as he reached out to check Erik’s bedside table.

He had never looked at it after his death.

As he opened the first drawer, he found Erik’s reading glasses, which he had so insistently refused to wear. Charles chuckled a little at the memory, ignoring Kurt's puzzled face. Nina's locket was also there, and Charles sighed, holding it with care before putting it in his pocket. He silently apologized to Erik for leaving it there alone for so long.

He moved on to the second drawer. There were a few other objects he decided to keep: a watch, a notebook, and some pens. Other things to throw away, like an expired sun cream and some pills.

And tucked at the very back of the drawer, there were a pair of gloves. Charles struggled a bit to take them out, only to find out they were covering a small wooden box.

Oh.

Oh god.

He must have projected his distress, because Kurt was next to him in a second. “Is everything okay?”

Charles did not respond. Instead, he slowly opened the box to find what he already suspected. Two handmade metal rings, probably crafted to fit perfectly in his and Erik's ring fingers.

He now definitely felt like throwing up.

“Oh,” said Kurt aloud, voicing his own thoughts.

Charles closed the little box and held onto it like a lifeline. “I think we’re done here, Kurt. We should gather everything outside so I can say goodbye to everyone and get back to the mansion,” he said urgently, turning his wheelchair around to get out of the room.

“Oh, but we still haven’t checked the bathroom.”

“Right, but there’s nothing important there, Kurt. Please, I just....” he sighed. “I am very tired and my back is killing me. I would really like to go back now.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” replied Kurt. “I could take the boxes outside while you say goodbye.”

“Yes, please. That would be great.”

Gathering himself, he hoped the fresh air outside the house would be enough to calm him down before saying his thanks to Julia for keeping his things clean. And Louisa, who was still part of the council and had made sure the house wasn't given to anyone else, despite everything. 

He was really grateful, but he silently hoped these conversations would be short as he wheeled himself to his neighbor’s door. He truly needed to get out of there.

Back at the mansion, he stared for a good hour at the cardboard boxes with his and Erik’s stuff. Ororo had promised to help him organize everything tomorrow. So, at the moment, the one thing he had to obsess about was the little wooden box with the metal rings inside.

He hadn't known about them, as none of the proposals had involved them. Erik had never gotten down on one knee, he had just asked him to marry him.

The topic had come back five months after the first disastrous proposal, and Charles winced as the memory hit him again.  

They were wrapped around each other on the sofa, drinking hot wine, Charles reading a book while they listened to the music on the radio, when Erik had brought it up again.

“Charles, let’s get married,” he whispered.

Charles, who was resting his head on Erik’s chest, tensed up. “Erik…”

Erik let out a sigh. He could read Charles’ body language instantly. “It’s okay, you don’t need to make excuses,” he said, his voice sad, already defeated again. “If you don’t want to, then there’s nothing more to say.”

“No,” replied Charles, frowning, pulling himself up and leaving his book on the side of the sofa. “No, I… Erik. You know I love you, right? I love you so, so much.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And I want this.”

“This?” asked Erik, confused.

“Yes, this. What we have right now,” he said, reaching to caress Erik’s cheek. “You’ve given me something I never thought I could have. And I am so, so happy with the way things are between us right now.”

“And you want nothing to change,” concluded Erik.

Charles felt a lump in his throat. “You have to know that me not saying yes to this yet doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It doesn’t mean I’m not serious about us.”

“Yeah, I know,” he repeated, a sad smile on his face. “So, are you gonna tell me to ask you this again in a few months?”

Charles looked away. That was precisely what he had been planning to say next. 

“Charles,” insisted Erik. “Charles, look at me.”

He took a deep breath before locking eyes with him. And just like that, Erik could see right through him.

“There’s something you are not telling me,” he said, frowning. Charles didn’t deny it, and after it was clear he wasn’t going to answer, Erik sighed. “Just please promise me that you’ll talk about it with me when you’re ready.”

And Charles could do that, so he nodded. “Yes, I promise you.”

Back in the present, Charles felt the need to break something. Instead, a most recent memory appeared abruptly in his mind, and he braced himself for it, knowing it would leave him feeling even more regret.

The next and last time they had discussed marriage was, actually, after a wedding. It had been just a few weeks before the snap, so the memory was even more vivid for Charles.

They had returned home exhausted. It had been a nice ceremony between Louisa and her girlfriend–now wife–Jackie. They had danced, eaten really good food, and gotten drunk with their friends.

And now, they were getting ready for bed. Charles was already tucked in, impatient for Erik to get in as well, so they could finally turn off the lights. He was so tired, he couldn’t wait to go to sleep.

But Erik was thinking very loudly, and Charles' tiredness and sore back from the dancing had silently turned into a bad mood. He didn’t even realize it until the words came out of his mouth in an annoyed tone.

“Erik, please don’t.”

“Don’t what?” asked Erik, frozen where he was, lifting the sheets on his side of the bed to get in.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, please.” Charles couldn’t stop the harsh words. Why was he starting a fight? “You are thinking too loudly, I know you want to ask me–”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “To ask you to marry me?”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” said Erik, a sarcastic smile on his face. Charles hated to know it was directed at him. He hated even more to know that he deserved it. “But well, since you’ve brought up the topic, maybe you can finally tell me what you’ve been keeping from me.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“Well,” continued Erik, his voice rising a bit, “I would like to have a reason, you know. For being rejected, what? Three times now?”

“I don’t need to give you a reason,” said Charles through gritted teeth.

“Well, I think I deserve one.”

“Fuck you.”

Erik, bless him, decided to ignore that. “Charles,” he said, taking a breath to calm down. “I know mutants have a longer lifespan, but we are not getting any younger. We are in our sixties. So I really don’t get what you are waiting for.”

At Charles' lack of a reply, Erik continued, his voice gentle now. 

“Look, I don’t care if we don’t get married.”

That sparked anger in Charles again. Was he being serious? After he had basically proposed three times? “Oh, please, don’t lie,” he spat out.

“I’m not lying, I really don’t care,” Erik insisted. “You can see it for yourself if you want,” he pointed at his own head. “But you keep telling me to ask you this again later, and then you reject me again. I just want to know if I should just forget about it. And if that’s the case, I would really like to know why. You know I’ll understand.”

Would he? Charles didn’t even understand himself. He wanted it too. Oh, he wanted it so badly. But there was still a little voice in his head, telling him this all could be over at any second. 

“Why do you want to get married?” he found himself asking instead. He could tell Erik was doing his best not to lose his patience, but he decided to humour Charles on this.

“Well, for starters, I want to be able to say I’m Dr. Charles Xavier’s husband,” he said, and when that failed to make Charles smile, he let out a long sigh. “I want this because… because I want to make it official. I want to have it on paper, to be able to have something we couldn’t even have imagined back when we were young and wary of anyone finding out who we really were. And yes, it may sound too sappy or whatever, but I want to have a wedding. I don’t care if we invite half the island or just a single person to make us sign the papers.

“And yeah,” he continued after a pause, “because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I guess that is not the reason you are looking for.”

Charles nodded and lowered his gaze, processing his words for what felt like an eternity. And he knew Erik deserved better, but what came out of his mouth was this: 

“You’ve been married already.”

And even after a decade, the mention of Magda, inevitably tangled with the understandably never-ending grief over Nina, still hit Erik like a truck. 

“How…?” Charles continued, trying to push through the waves of sadness and shock Erik was accidentally projecting. “How can you bring yourself to do it all over again?”

And as soon as he said it, Charles knew that was the last admission Erik was going to get from him that night. But it seemed like Erik was connecting the dots, or at least some of them, coming closer to deciphering Charles' troubled mind.

“Is that what this is about?” he finally asked, his voice soft again.

Charles didn’t confirm it or deny it. He didn’t elaborate on what his question meant. He had no idea what Erik’s interpretation might be, and he couldn’t bring himself to pry inside his mind, even though he knew he was more than invited to.

I am really tired, please. He begged, projecting it to Erik. He hadn’t wanted to have this conversation in the first place, and he clearly did not want to start a new one. And he must have also been projecting his bad mood, because Erik gave in. Or maybe it was because the fight had left him exhausted as well. He was right about one thing, at least: they were not getting any younger.

“Yeah, it was a long day,” Erik offered out loud. “We’ll talk about this another time, alright?”

But he didn’t wait for Charles to answer before caringly squeezing his hand as a goodnight, finally turning the lights off with a nudge of his head.

But of course, that time hadn’t come. And now, back in his room, Charles was sure that if he had Erik’s mutation, the rings would’ve already melted with the weight of his stare over them.

The next day, Ororo was helping him organize the items on the boxes, hanging the clothes in his closet, and storing the photos and notebooks in some empty drawers. Charles was thinking about taking a look at them later, when suddenly Ororo remembered something.

“Right, Professor, you asked me yesterday if I could get you an empty necklace,” she said, retrieving a simple silver chain from her pocket.

“Oh, thank you so much, Ororo, I didn’t think you would get me one so soon.”

“I had one in my stuff,” she shrugged. “I haven’t really used it.”

Charles didn’t wait before retrieving the wooden box from where he had left it on his bedside table and took out the rings.

Oh. Ororo’s thoughts were loud enough for Charles to grasp them, and he smiled a little, thinking about how Kurt had reacted exactly the same.

Carefully, he passed both of the rings through the chain before putting it around his neck. Knowing Ororo was still looking at him, a bit of sadness but also hope coming out from her, he tucked the chain with the rings inside his shirt.

“Thank you, dear,” he said again. “Now, where were we?”

Ororo shook her head and offered him a smile, “Right,” she said, opening a new box and taking out some more picture frames. “Where should I put these?”

Three years and five months after the snap

They were having some kind of after-office reunion at the mansion. It was the last day of classes, and the kids and the rest of the staff had been sent back to their homes for a week of vacation. And those who remained were already in their dorms, either asleep or too busy having sleepovers, so they wouldn’t bother them.

Hank, Ororo, Kurt, and Charles were in one of the teachers’ lounges on the first floor, as they decided they deserved this little break. They had agreed to have a lazy afternoon, drink some wine and food Charles had prepared, play board games, and talk a little about their students.

Charles could finally contribute to that conversation, now that he had slowly been assuming again a role in the school. First, as an advisor for the teachers, helping them with questions about how to approach the topics for their lessons, or how to grade the students. More recently, he had also been helping some of the kids who struggled to control their mutations, mostly offering verbal advice, not entering their minds unless it was necessary to help them with something specific. He had talked about it with Hank first, who had told him he completely trusted him to judge what each situation required.

But anyway, right now they had set aside the heavier topics to focus on their board game.

“I really don’t like Monopoly,” complained Kurt, realizing he had been sent to jail again.

“What, you’d rather play Twister?” joked Ororo, taking a sip of her wine glass.

“Well, I’d certainly beat all of you in Twister,” said Charles, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. All three sets of eyes in the room looked at him, a bit shocked and a bit amused at his joke.

“Professor!” said Kurt, but he was also trying to conceal the hints of a smile.

“What? I’m allowed to make jokes about myself.”

“Damn right,” said Ororo, breaking the little bit of tension that had formed. “You’re also very allowed to cook dinner again. I didn’t know you had it in you, Professor.”

“Oh, he didn’t,” said Hank with a smirk. “He used to be a very bad cook, that’s why you two had never eaten anything prepared by him back then.”

“And you have?” asked Ororo.

“Yeah,” Charles chimed in. “I still owe Hank an apology for my attempts at cooking, back before this was a school and we hired a chef.”

“Apology accepted, as long as you can make this stuff again, Charles,” joked Hank, rolling the dice. “Shit,” he murmured, as he realized he’d landed on one of Ororo's properties.

She grinned, collecting the monopoly bills from Hank. “Yes, please! What was it called again?”

“Well,” started Charles, taking his turn to roll the dice. He moved his token nine spaces, landing on one of his own properties. “Hank, pass me a house, will you? I’m buying one.” He handed him some bills. “It’s called lomo saltado .”

“It was really good,” said Kurt. The other two nodded in agreement.

“Where did you learn to make it?” asked Ororo, as Charles handed her the dice.

“Oh, someone taught me in Genosha.”

The atmosphere tensed a bit, but Charles ignored it. It wasn't like Genosha or Erik were forbidden words, but they all knew the weight they carried for him, knowing he had built a life there, as well as a loving relationship that had ended abruptly.

“Back when I first arrived,” he continued, “Erik insisted that I was a guest and that nothing was expected of me. Regarding any responsibilities, that is. Of course, I told him that was nonsense.”

He watched as everyone was frozen, not daring to interrupt him.

“So I tried a couple of things, I guess. Working in the gardens wasn’t for me. My back hurt too much after that. And I didn’t want to get involved with the school yet either, so Erik said I could try and help at the communal kitchen,” he said with a grin. ”Of course, that was a joke, as he had also been a victim of my poor cooking skills before.”

Hank snorted. Charles appreciated his attempt at lightening the mood.

“So I took it as a challenge,” he continued. “One of the chefs there was from Peru. She is the one who taught me how to cook this and some other dishes from her country.”

“That’s cool,” said Ororo, who finally dared to take her eyes away from Charles and took her turn. She landed in the jail space, just on a visit. “Hi, Kurt,” she teased.

They kept playing for a while, talking about their students. Kurt mentioned the progress Kitty was making in controlling her mutation, no longer accidentally phasing through ceilings and falling into the floors below. Charles complimented Ororo, who was doing a great job mentoring Bobby with his ice powers. 

“He’s close friends with John Allerdyce, right?” asked Hank. “I think we should keep an eye on him. He is a good kid, but there’s also so much anger inside of him.”

“Hmm, I know a thing or two about people like that,” commented Charles. And he was thinking so loudly about Erik, he wondered if he had maybe projected a memory to the others. A satellite dish, a watery smile, a feeling of rage and serenity. But he found with relief that the memory didn’t make him sad. He smiled a bit, realizing he had been unconsciously fidgeting with the rings that hung from his necklace. “I'm sure you three will do a great job guiding him.”

Hank gave him a small nod and smiled. “I hope so.”

There was a comfortable quiet. Their game had been long abandoned, as soon as Kurt had declared bankruptcy, and they became more interested in talking about the school rather than finishing the endless board game.

“Professor?” asked Kurt cautiously, breaking the silence. “We had been wondering about something for a while.”

Ororo turned her head to shoot him a warning look, shaking her head a little. Kurt ignored her.

“I…” he continued, “I hope we are not prying, but we were wondering if you and Magneto… I mean, Mr. Lehnsherr, were married? Or, were going to get married?”

“Kurt,” warned Hank, too.

“Oh,” said Charles, grabbing the necklace again. “No, it’s okay, it's not like I've been hiding these rings anyway. I guess it's actually strange that you’ve never asked me this before.”

“We didn’t want to pry,” offered Hank, shooting Kurt a look as well.

“It’s okay, really,” repeated Charles, trying to save Kurt. He sighed. “But no, we weren’t married. We weren’t engaged either.”

“Oh,” said Kurt, thinking carefully about his words. “But when you found the rings in your house…”

“Do you think…?” intervened Ororo, weighing her words as well. “Do you think Erik was going to…?”

“To propose?” finished Charles. “Ah, yes. He actually did. Two times. Or three, I think. I’m not sure if the third time counts, though. It was actually more of a fight instead of a proposal, now that I think about it.”

Three faces looked at him, completely puzzled.

“Wait, Charles,” intervened Hank. “Does… does that mean you said no?” he blinked slowly. “Three times?”

“Not my brightest moments, I’ll have to admit,” replied Charles with a chuckle. He didn’t think the others found this story very funny, though. “I should’ve said yes the first time. But anyway, it's too late for that, no use beating myself over it now.”

Hank put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You know you can talk about Erik with us, right?” he tried. “If you want to, of course.”

“Yeah,” added Ororo. “We’ll listen. You know? When the snap first happened and we lost Scott and Peter… and so many of our students… I mean, saying it was bad would be an understatement.”

“You weren’t here that first month, so you didn’t see it,” said Kurt, “but we barely had things under control.”

“But we got through it,” said Hank with a sigh. “Because the three of us were there for each other. It hurt, but we talked about Peter, about Scott, about the people we lost, and that helped,” he paused for a bit. “And we’ve been talking about it again lately because, well, we tried to be there for you, too. But we don’t really know if we were of much help. And we never asked you about Erik before because you were obviously not fine, and we didn't know if mentioning him would make things worse.”

“Oh, you have helped,” said Charles, a bit choked up. “You received me back here without questions, even after I left you when Jean…”

“None of that,” interrupted Ororo. “You were mourning. We understood that you needed to get away from here.”

“Yes, it seems like escaping is now what I do as soon as things get ugly,” he said, remembering how fast he had also left his life in Genosha when Erik had died.

“Don’t beat yourself over it,” said Hank, mirroring his words. “We get it, losing a partner is… well. I don't have to explain it to you.”

“No, you don’t need to,” agreed Charles. “But, well, as I said, it is okay if you ask. I think, lately, when I think about Erik, the pain is still there, in the back of my mind. But I also remember the joy I felt during those two years we got to spend together. And I am glad that we were allowed to have that time, as little as it was.”

Hank offered him a sad smile, understanding his words.

“You’re right,” continued Charles. “I don't know if I would have liked to talk about Erik at first. So, thank you for being cautious about it. But I think… I think I would like to do it from now on,” he smiled.

And as his family nodded, he felt a weight lift from his chest.

Five years after the snap

The day it happened, Charles was having a meeting with Ororo in his office. She had asked him for some advice regarding one of her classes, when he suddenly felt it.

It was the sensation of being in a too crowded place. Like the first time he used Cerebro, all at once feeling connected to so many extra minds that hadn’t been there before.

Something is…

Charles found himself wincing, his right hand instantly going to his temple in pain. It was the exact opposite of that doomed day five years ago. This time, instead of feeling emptiness, he felt a weight so overwhelming inside his head, so many new voices tuning in. He faintly registered Ororo asking him if he was okay. But before he could gather himself enough to answer, the door to the office opened, revealing a very confused Peter. 

Wait, Peter?

“Oh, Professor, you’re back?” he asked with a tilt of his head, surprised.

“Peter? What…?” Ororo instantly ran to hug him, surprise evident on her face. “How…?” she asked into his shoulder. “How are you here?”

“Uh… I’m happy to see you too…?” he said, frowning, but returning the hug regardless. “But shouldn’t we be more confused about the Professor? Not that it's bad that you’re here,” he added rapidly. “It's amazing that you’re visiting! But did something bad happen? Is my dad– is Erik here too?”

At that, Ororo released Peter and turned to look at Charles.

“They are back,” he whispered in an almost inaudible tone, but he was sure she caught it. “They are all coming back.”

Erik must also be…

“Everyone is coming back!” Kurt suddenly appeared inside the room, echoing Charles' words. He looked out of breath, like he had already teleported a few times in the last minutes. “Hank says we all have to go to the patio, we’re gathering all the staff and students there. Emergency meeting.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” assured Ororo, as Kurt vanished again. “You okay, Professor?” 

It took a couple of seconds for Charles to register the question, and he shook his head no. He could feel a horrible headache beginning, and he could sense so much confusion everywhere, tampering with his own thoughts. “I’ll manage,” he said, nevertheless.

Hank approached him as soon as he saw him. He was frowning, no doubt already trying to handle the situation they had. The situation being that everyone who had died five years ago had appeared again in the exact same spot they had been at the time of the snap, unaware of the time that had passed. It was happening worldwide, or at least that was what every news channel was informing on TV. So now, they had a large group of confused kids and teachers on their patio. They needed to explain to them what had happened, to contact their families, to understand exactly what was going on, and to figure out if this was permanent. Oh god, thought Charles. What if it isn’t– 

“Charles.” Hank was next to him now, though his eyes were wandering along the crowd, his thoughts racing. That wasn’t helping with Charles’ headache. “You need to go. Kurt will take you to Genosha.”

“But… Hank, I can’t leave you. You all need help here.” I can’t leave you again. Charles felt his heart beating faster and faster. His thoughts were making their way in between the rest of the voices he heard inside his head. But Erik must also be back, he thought. Erik must be back in Genosha. 

“We don’t,” countered Hank. “Ororo and I have it covered.”

“But Kurt must want to stay here,” he insisted. He didn’t know why he was making this difficult. Erik must be in Genosha. He’s probably back and wondering why I’m not there. “Peter and Scott are back.”

“I’m alright,” said Kurt, who appeared by his side without warning. “Already gave them both a hug. We’ll catch up after I take you with Mr. Lehnsherr.”

“See?” said Hank, offering him a smile. “Go on, Charles, don’t waste any more time.”

I’m going to see Erik again, he thought, hope beginning to grow inside of him. Erik was most likely alive, and he was going to see him again. How was that even possible? He stifled a laugh, trying not to look like he was losing his mind. He looked at Kurt and nodded, a silent permission for him to use his mutation with him. And in the blink of an eye, they found themselves in Genosha. 

They had landed at the port. He knew it was the safest place they could teleport to, given that Kurt had only been in Genosha a couple of times, the first time arriving through a ferry. So, he probably felt comfortable landing in a familiar place, even if it was a bit away from the residential area. But Charles had just begun to process what was happening, and the idea of any amount of time and or space separating him from Erik was unbearable.

The port was deserted right now, so Charles made an effort to reach out with his mind, trying to grasp a general notion of what was happening on the island at the moment. Here, as well, the place was full of activity. So many people were reuniting with their loved ones, barely believing their own eyes. 

He searched for Erik, but between the chaos and his growing headache, he wasn't able to distinguish between minds. Panic crept again inside him, his breath becoming more ragged with every second he couldn’t sense Erik.

“Professor?” asked Kurt, looking at him with concern.

“What if he isn’t here?”

“What do you mean?”

What if Erik hadn’t returned? What if there were exceptions? They still didn't have all the details on how everyone had been brought back. What if Erik was not coming back? What if it was not permanent, and they were starting to disappear again? What if…?

But Kurt must have sensed his distress, because he tried to reason with him.

“You were there when he disappeared, right?” he asked, cautiously. “So, we should go to that exact same place to try and find him.”

They knew that people were returning to the exact same spot because that was what happened back at the mansion, and it was also being said on the news. So yes, that was a good start.

And so they did that. As they started moving through the outer streets, Charles had a feeling of deja vu. That day, he had been on his way to the port, but he had never reached it because, well, Erik died. And now, they were heading backwards from it. It felt like going back in time.

But as they got closer to the place, there was no sign of Erik. Charles remembered the exact spot where he had disappeared, even if the island was a bit changed after a few years. More houses had been built, and there were more streets now. But this was the place. He was sure of it. 

His heart started beating faster. What if he wasn't here? What if he was really the exception? Good things never lasted, he knew that. He had seen it again, and again and…

“Charles!”

But at the sound of that voice, everything else went silent.

Erik, he thought, at last his mind letting him focus on one single person. Erik!

And there he was, running towards him, each step faster than the last one, but not fast enough for Charles. With shaking hands, he wheeled himself forward, not thinking himself able to deal even with the smallest distance between them any longer.

Erik!

The next thing he knew, he was hugging Erik, his arms urgently holding his waist in a tight grip. He buried his face in his jumper, the same one he had been wearing five years ago, and Erik immediately returned the embrace. Oh, how he had missed this. To feel his mind instinctively reaching for him, their thoughts interlacing with each other, instantly making disappear anything that surrounded them. To be entangled with each other so tightly that he couldn’t discern where he started and where Erik ended. 

Is this real? He thought, his hands pulling Erik closer, if that was even possible.

It is. A voice responded. Erik’s voice. I’m here. I’m right here, liebling.

Charles let out a choked laugh, his eyes watering a bit. He hated to let Erik go, but the need to see his face again was stronger. So, he slowly released his grip on him, instead letting his hands wander upwards. Erik took the hint and crouched down in front of him, so their eyes were almost at the same level.

Charles lost no time tracing Erik’s face with his hands. The stubble he didn’t bother to shave, the crinkles on his face, the few white hairs that had begun to grow on his hairline. The couple of tears that were now falling down his cheeks, his eyes a light shade of pink.

“Why are you crying, darling?” he asked, his voice trembling. It was such a dumb question, he thought, but he had seen Erik’s memories in his mind. One second, he had been right in front of Charles, worried about him and the possibility of an attack on their island. And the next one, he had found himself alone in the exact same spot, with no idea that five years had passed. He had only spent a few minutes without Charles, where he had confusedly searched for him, until he had bumped into someone who had messily explained the situation. He hadn’t really felt the weight of their time apart.

“I’m sorry,” said Erik. He sniffed, his eyes still producing some more rebellious tears. “You’re projecting your feelings too vividly, and I… oh, Charles. I’m so sorry I left you.”

Charles instantly shook his head, lifting some mental shields to protect Erik from his strong grief. He was so overwhelmed, he probably had accidentally projected it. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” he smiled, gently wiping away Erik’s tears. “You can't possibly be apologizing for dying.”

Erik laughed, and Charles almost sobbed. Oh, how he had missed that sound. “Well, it sounds stupid if you put it that way.”

Charles offered him a trembling smile, and he couldn’t handle the almost non-existent distance anymore. “Come here again, please .”

Erik obeyed immediately, leaning forward to bury his face in Charles' shoulder, letting him hold him again. Charles sighed, leaving kisses on Erik’s head, one arm around his waist, the other one buried in his hair.

They spent a few minutes like that, with no intention of letting go any time soon. But suddenly, Erik tensed up, his right hand feeling Charles’ chest until he caught the rings hanging from his necklace. He instantly looked up, his eyes scanning Charles' face, searching for an answer, a silent and urgent question hanging from his lips.

“Oh,” said Charles.

“You weren’t meant to find them,” explained Erik, already rushing into damage control mode. “I made those rings before you… I wasn’t going to…”

Charles had to remind himself that no time had passed for Erik. That, for him, only a few weeks ago, they had been fighting over this, leaving an important conversation unfinished.

“I should've said yes the first time,” Charles interrupted him, offering him an apologetic smile. 

Erik shook his head, trying to reassure him. “You don’t need to say that just because–”

“Oh, I do. I still owe you an explanation,” he insisted. Please let me say this, he projected, and Erik nodded, letting him continue. “I was so afraid of losing this that it took literally watching you die in front of me to realize how foolish I had been. I was so scared of saying yes because I was afraid I would eventually lose you. I was terrified I would push you away, or you’d leave me again, or life would get in the way, as it always has for the two of us.”

“And you were right,” said Erik, the irony not escaping from him.

“Yes!” Charles let out a dry laugh. “Yes, I was fucking right. And let me tell you, for once, I was not happy about that at all. After you were gone, I just kept thinking about how stupid I had been, turning you down again and again when I wanted to marry you just as bad as you did.”

At that, Erik lit up, a question in his eyes. “You did? You do? ”

“Of course I did! Of course I do. I just couldn’t… back then, I guess my mind wasn’t in the right place yet.”

“I think I understood some of that,” said Erik, softly. “That day, after Louisa’s wedding. When you asked about Magda, I figured out some of that.” 

“I know,” said Charles, caressing his cheek. “You have always been able to see through me.” I’ve missed you so much, darling.

And with that, he pulled Erik towards him again, finally kissing him for the first time in five long years. 

Erik’s lips felt like coming home after a very long day, like finally being able to breathe, as if he had been slowly drowning all this time. Charles took his time threading his hands through Erik’s hair, letting himself feel Erik’s hands on his cheeks, holding him steady through the kiss.

When they finally pulled away, Charles couldn't bring himself to let go. Instead, he hugged Erik again, the salty taste of the tears–Erik’s or his, he couldn't really tell anymore–lingering on his lips. They stayed embraced like that for a little while, until Charles slowly began to register his surroundings again. The sounds of the main city were far away, and he looked at the almost empty streets near the edge of the residential area, where they were right now. Kurt was nowhere to be seen, and Charles appreciated the privacy. 

“As much as I love this, Charles,” said Erik suddenly, grinning into his shoulder, “my knees are killing me.”

“Oh. Yes, of course,” said Charles, releasing his grip on him so he could stand up. He immediately missed him. 

“Don’t look at me with those eyes,” teased Erik. “I really am getting old. If I get down again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up. How about we go back home?”

Charles sighed. So much had happened in five years, but Erik had no idea. There were so many things he had to explain.

A couple of hours later, they were back at the mansion. At Erik’s request to go home, Charles regretfully had to explain to him that he no longer lived in Genosha. That he had moved back to the school a month after he had disappeared, full of grief and unable to bear his absence. So at the moment, their house was partially empty and a bit unkempt.

Erik assured him it was fine, that he understood. Though he didn’t seem completely fine himself. Charles could feel his mind struggling to process everything, which was more than comprehensible. From his point of view, one moment he had been full of adrenaline at the possibility of an alien invasion, and suddenly he had found himself walking through the streets of a changed Genosha and being told five years had passed in the blink of an eye.

So, they had stayed for a bit on the island, mostly to talk to some of their friends, and to leave a register that Erik was indeed alive again. But as soon as Erik had been reassured that there was no urgency for him to stay, as his seat on the council had been replaced when he died, they had gone back to Westchester with Kurt.

Since they arrived, Charles had stayed glued to Erik. Hank had greeted them at the main lobby, and Charles had felt an obligation to ask if his help was needed with anything. But Hank had reassured him that they had everything under control: they had given the students an indefinite break, so they could go back to reunite with their families. And so now, Ororo and some of the other teachers were waiting with some of the kids for their parents to pick them up.

“It’s good to see you, Erik,” said Hank with a cordial smile before heading out, probably to where the students were reunited.

“Yeah,” replied Erik. “Good to see you as well, Beast.”

Charles lost no time in guiding them to the elevator. He was exhausted, and the headache that had begun when all the extra minds reappeared had gone nowhere in the last few hours. If anything, it had intensified.

He needed to lie down. He needed to take a shower. He needed to hold Erik and never let him go again.

As they got into his room, Charles quickly took a pill for the headache and grabbed some clean clothes from the closet, leaving them on the bed. 

“All of our things are here?” asked Erik.

“Most of them, yes,” replied Charles. “We can sort them out later, okay?” How about we take a shower now? he asked inside their minds. Erik just nodded.

And so they took a shower together, just helping each other wash in silence. Charles felt the water soothing his headache. Probably, the medicine he had taken was starting to take effect as well. 

But Erik’s quietness wasn’t peaceful. Charles didn’t need to read his mind to know that it was running a hundred miles per hour, so he tried to project waves of calmness as he grabbed his hand and offered him a comforting smile. Erik gave him a shaky one in return.

The silence followed them back to the bedroom, the atmosphere tense now. Charles knew this was the calm before the storm, and something bad was definitely coming.

And it came indeed, as he transferred to sit on the edge of the bed, next to where Erik sat. The towel he had been using to dry his hair hung forgotten in one hand. He was frowning, deep in thought, his gaze a bit dazed.

“Charles,” he finally croaked out, “I’ve been dead for five years.”

It wasn’t a question, he was simply stating a fact that had been repeated to him for the last few hours, but which real weight was only just beginning to dawn on him.

“I’m sorry, darling…” started Charles, not knowing exactly what to say, but trying to keep his voice warm and steady. He would be of no use to Erik if he started to think too much about their time apart as well. “But yes, it has been five years.”

“Fuck.”

“I know,” tried Charles, hesitatingly taking his hand in his, caressing his knuckles. “I know it’s hard to process, but–”

“I can’t believe I’ve lost another five years.”

And oh, Erik looked so distraught saying it, that Charles understood immediately. He thought about a claustrophobic cell in the Pentagon, about the precious time Erik had simply lost, locked away for a crime he didn’t commit, about those ten years when he did absolutely nothing to help him– 

No, it was no use to punish himself again for that right now. And this situation wasn’t the same, not in the slightest.

“No,” he urgently replied. “No, Erik, they are not lost. You haven’t aged.”

“What?”

“You haven’t aged,” he repeated. Erik needed to understand this. “The kids that came back look exactly the same as they did before. It's like time stopped for all of you the moment of the snap, and it started again today. No one has aged.”

That seemed to steady Erik just a bit, but he still looked broken. “But you have.”

“Oh, Erik…” He knew these years hadn't been kind to him, and his grief had begun manifesting physically on him at some point. Perhaps it wasn’t noticeable to his family, who had spent most of the time with him. But for Erik, the weight loss and the new wrinkles and the dark circles under his eyes that had never gone away completely were probably evident.

“And what about Peter?” continued Erik, his anxiety rising again as the realization hit him. “I just disappeared out of his life again.”

Erik’s relationship with Peter was complicated, and Charles knew that. But he also knew that Erik had instantly loved Peter, from the very moment he told him he was his son. He knew they had agreed to be in each other's lives, Erik keeping the doors of their home open for him. And Peter had visited him at Genosha a few times, occasionally calling him as well. But obviously, they weren't as close as they could've been if Peter had spent his whole life knowing his father, instead of half of it, and Erik only aware of it for a few years.

“Okay, so this is not exactly ideal,” started Charles, trying to be reasonable, “but Peter disappeared as well. He hasn’t really missed you. You didn’t lose any time with him either, Erik.”

Erik looked at him in confusion, like trying to decide if that was indeed good or bad news. “All of this is just so surreal,” he finally sighed, letting himself fall onto the bed on his back, his eyes staring at the ceiling but lost in thought.

Charles followed him carefully, lying down beside him. At least, he could feel Erik beginning to calm down, the gears in his mind turning a little less frantically. Charles could sense the irregular shapes his worries were forming into. Erik was thinking not only about leaving Charles for so long, about losing precious time with him and Peter. He was also thinking about Genosha, about how he had built that nation from nothing, and suddenly he found himself away from the place he had learned to call home, the island so changed in what felt like so little time for him.

Charles tried to think about what he could say. What words could he offer someone who had gone through something like this? But then he thought about those torturous, endless five years, and how just hearing Erik’s voice again would’ve been comfort enough, no matter what he said.

“I know this is hard,” he tried again, as he slowly linked their hands together. “And I can sense that you’re hurting and confused. But it’s going to be alright, darling.”

Erik squeezed his hand in return, and Charles took that as a sign to continue.

“It hasn’t been easy without you, you know?” he said, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He could feel his eyes watering a bit, but he kept his voice steady. “I got lost at some point. I didn’t know what to do with you gone. And it was so unsettling to realize how I had been able to live without you for so many years before, but this time it seemed impossible.”

“Charles, I…” Erik turned his body to face him, lying on his side. Charles could feel an apology trying to escape from his lips, so he interrupted him. How silly of him, he thought, to be so adamant about apologizing for dying. Had he been like this? Back when he had just moved to Genosha, carrying such an enormous baggage of guilt and regret?

“But I got through it, Erik,” he continued. “And I know so much has changed in the last five years, but I promise you, we’ll also figure this out, alright? Together.”

He turned himself, facing Erik, too. Carefully, he unclasped the silver chain around his neck, taking out one of the metal rings. More certain than he had ever been, he took Erik’s left hand and gently slid it onto his ring finger.

Erik stared at him, surprise flashing through his eyes. Suddenly, he sat up on the edge of the bed again.

“Charles, I cannot believe…” he started, turning back to look at him, completely incredulous, but with a spark back in his eyes. “Are you really…?” Erik frowned, but he said this with a smile. Charles could sense waves of joy, mixed with disbelief and indignation, mischief and amusement. And love, so much love. “No.”

At that, Charles sat up too, confused. “No?”

Erik shook his head, grinning. “No,” he repeated. He gently floated the other ring out of Charles' necklace towards him, grasping it in his right hand. “And I am going to keep this.”

“You are?” asked Charles, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m going to keep these rings to myself, and when you least expect it, I am going to ask you to marry me again. For the, uh,” he tilted his head, like he even needed help recalling this, “fourth time. And this time you will say yes.”

Charles let out a sound that seemed almost like a snort. “You moron.”

Erik smirked, settling himself back on the edge of the bed. “Are you really calling me a moron, Charles? I can’t believe you just… After all of this…” he shook his head again, but his glance was so warm, looking at Charles with complete endearment. Erik kissed him softly then, only pulling away to whisper something in his ear. “You don’t get to propose, liebling,” he teased. “I think I’ve earned that right.”

Charles smacked him playfully on the chest, an almost unperceivable pout on his lips. “I can’t believe you just turned me down.”

Erik raised his eyebrows. “Want me to do it again? Cause I think I’ve got a free pass to do it what? Two more times?”

Charles laughed, rolling his eyes. “You are impossible,” he murmured, pulling Erik for a more heated kiss this time, driven by a hunger that seemed to rise from deep within him. It was never going to be enough again, he thought. He would spend the rest of his life longing for Erik, trying to make up for the time spent apart. But for now, Erik was here, in his bed, his hands tracing Charles' body like he had done so many times before, his lips gasping his name like it was a sacred word. And afterwards, lying together in his sheets, Charles could’ve cried from pure joy, finally coming to the realization that their story was not over yet. 

“I can’t believe you’re back,” he whispered, his eyes glistening.

And Erik replied without a doubt. “I’m not going anywhere, liebling.”

One year later 

They decided on a beach wedding.

It had taken them a while to plan the event after Erik’s eventual–and finally!–successful proposal. Since his return, they had talked a lot about what they were going to do with their new life. Erik wanted to return to Genosha, as it had been, and still was, his dream to build a nation safe for mutants. But he also understood that the last years had brought a lot of changes in Charles' life, including him repairing his relationship with his family. He couldn’t ignore that their previous life together in Genosha had begun after a bittersweet encounter in Paris, a place in which Charles had only been just because he had felt like he needed to step away from his family, from the school, from the project of his entire life.

But this time, Charles had been the one to propose moving back to Genosha. He had his doubts, obviously. It wasn’t easy to forget the association he had made between the island and grief, but now Erik was back. And, he had slowly begun to remember how much love he had for that place.

He could still visit the school anytime he wanted, now that he finally understood that he had never stopped being welcomed there. But as much as he had enjoyed helping around the last few years, he knew the school was indeed in good hands. And it wasn’t like his presence wasn’t needed anymore, but what had happened during the blip had made him realize he was allowed to have good things in his life. That he shouldn't be denying himself what he knew would make him happy. Like spending the rest of his life with Erik.

And also, Charles knew how important this was for Erik. So, for the first time, he didn’t feel like he was running away from something when they moved back into Genosha.

Eventually, one day at a time, they both learned to call the island home again.

New challenges had come then, though. Erik’s reintegration into the council, long nights in which he began the arduous task of catching up with what had happened in Genosha and the whole world in the last five years. Charles usually stayed up with him, going through the official documents and newspapers together, trying to help by giving some more context when he could. But also, by being a grounding presence when all of this started to overwhelm Erik.

It was difficult sometimes for Charles, as well. One time, Erik had left their house too early in the morning for a council meeting. He had forgotten to tell Charles about it the day before, so he had left a note on the bedside table, not having the heart to wake him up. But Charles had missed the note, resulting in a brief panic attack when his brain had tricked him into believing Erik was gone again. 

But they were learning how to navigate this new reality they were living in, and planning their wedding had been a good thing to focus on, longing for the moment of the day when they both sat together to decide on the guest list, the flowers, the cake flavour. They looked forward to their little disagreements as well, to their playful banter that seemed more like flirting–or foreplay–if anyone watching was asked.

“No, Erik,” had argued Charles one day, both of them sitting next to each other at their dining table, flipping through some options Hank had sent them. “We’re not having that metal arch at the altar.”

“And why the hell not?” Erik faked indignation, but Charles could feel he was enjoying this.

“Because the wooden ones in this magazine go way better with the chairs and, like, everything we’ve already decided on. Besides, it looks better for a beach,” said Charles, like it was obvious. He looked up and directly into Erik’s eyes. “Trust me, darling.”

Erik held eye contact for a few seconds, his lips slowly curving up. “Fine,” he finally said. “But we are going with the centerpieces I wanted. The ones with the little lantern and the candle inside.”

“Okay then, fine,” Charles conceded with a small roll of his eyes, but he was grinning as well.

One time, Hank had been there during one of their little fights, as he had promised to help with the planning as his best man's duty. He had watched the whole exchange with raised eyebrows, Charles hearing his thoughts of: Have they forgotten I am here? They have not broken eye contact this whole time, and I always knew their fights were their weird way of flirting with each other, and did I just come all the way to Genosha for this?

Charles had almost felt pity for putting his friend through this. Almost.

But then, the big day had arrived with everything running smoothly, and Charles knew he would have to enormously thank Hank for everything. He reminded himself to do so as he spotted him in the distance, giving instructions to the people helping to arrange the setup for the ceremony. He had arrived on the island the day before, along with the rest of the guests from the mansion, but he had been busy supervising everything.

Charles wheeled himself through the wooden platform they had built on the beach. Almost everything was already in its place: the few chairs on each side of the aisle, the simple yet classy wooden arch decorated with clusters of white flowers, a few lanterns scattered on the sand, not yet lit, as the sun still shone brightly in the sky. The wedding was still scheduled to begin in a couple of hours, just before sunset.

“Charles!” said Hank as soon as he noticed him, jogging in his direction. He frowned. “Hey, shouldn’t you be getting dressed already?”

“Yes, you’re right,” admitted Charles, “I just wanted to come here before and check if everything was okay.”

“Yeah, everything’s in order,” said Hank, nodding his head at the setup. “The reception is ready, as well.”

They had gone for a simple and private ceremony, the guest list limited to Hank, Peter, Ororo, Kurt, Scott, and their closest friends in Genosha, who totaled less than twenty people. 

But the wedding of Magneto, the founding mutant of Genosha, and Professor X had gained attention among the residents, and they had ended up opening their reception to anyone on the island who wanted to celebrate with them. 

“Thank you so much, Hank.”

“Wait until you’re married to thank me,” he grinned. Charles wanted to say so much more. This wasn't just about the wedding. He was grateful for his friendship, for his support. For not giving up on him. But as Hank gave him a calm smile, he was sure he already knew that. “Go get ready. You don’t want to be late to your own wedding.”

As Charles let himself into his house, the first thing he noticed was Peter, appearing quickly in front of him.

“Professor!” he instantly welcomed him, nervously. “Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to be ready by now? I thought you were at the beach already, or at least, you know, not right here at your house anymore.”

“Hello, Peter,” he greeted him as he wheeled himself in. “I am a bit late, I know. You are actually the second person to tell me that. I still need to get dressed, though.”

Peter was Erik’s best man. It hadn’t been difficult for him to decide that, and Peter had accepted instantly. Though he hadn’t been as involved as Hank in the planning of the wedding, he had arrived on the island a week early to spend more time with his dad and, as he liked to call Charles now, stepdad. That had been more than enough of a gift for Erik.

“Peter?” Charles heard the voice from inside the bedroom, just before the door opened.

It was Erik, of course. As always, he looked stunning in a suit. But Charles was not ready for this sight at all. As Erik stepped out into the living room, Charles' breath caught up, taking it all in. This was Erik, sixty-five years old, in his wedding suit. But this was also the man he had rescued from freezing water a lifetime ago, and the man who had offered him a home eight years ago over a game of chess in Paris. This was the man he had fallen in love with as soon as their minds touched for the first time, and the same one who had broken his heart countless times. His complete opposite in so many ways, but also the one person in the world who could perfectly complement him.

The same Erik he had learned to call his partner in life, and whom he soon would be able to call husband.

“Shit, Hank is gonna kill me,” murmured Peter, interrupting his thoughts. “Do you not know that seeing each other before the wedding is bad luck? Have you two never attended a wedding before? Or watched one in a movie?”

Without taking his eyes off Erik, Charles answered, a smitten smile on his face. “That’s just a superstition, Peter.”

Peter raised his hands, absolving himself of any blame. “Yeah, right. Fine, okay, whatever. But if anything goes wrong–”

“Nothing's gonna go wrong, Peter,” said Erik, grinning as well. Then, to Charles, he said, “What are you staring at, liebling? Do I look good?” 

“You do,” he said out loud. I can’t wait for tonight, he sent into his mind, though.

Oh? Answered Erik through their link, but he also raised an eyebrow, amusement showing on his face, clearly aware of what Charles was feeling and thinking about, as he was projecting it so strongly to him.

Peter cleared his throat, looking back and forth between them. “Okay, gross. I have no idea what you just told each other telepathically, and I honestly don’t want to know. Please don’t do that in front of me, ever again,” he clasped his hands together, a pleading smile on his face. “Also, dad, we really should get going.”

“Yeah, right,” said Erik, bringing himself back to reality. He took a second before following Peter outside, leaning down to press a brief kiss to Charles’ forehead and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you in a while, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he smiled at him. Can’t wait.

Charles could hear Erik chuckle, just before the door closed behind him.

It was a brief but lovely ceremony, and Charles couldn’t have been more glad about their decision to keep it private. He didn’t want anyone else besides his closest friends to witness such a special moment between him and Erik.

They had both gone together through the short aisle before standing beneath the altar as the officiant delivered a heartfelt speech about love and marriage, before asking them to say their vows. And they had successfully managed to get through them without their voices wavering, but with visibly watery eyes as they exchanged the rings, both feeling some rebellious tears escaping as they had their first kiss as husbands.

And afterwards, as their friends cheered, Charles dared to look away from Erik for just a second to take in the scenery. He could feel the soft breeze carrying a salty scent as he watched the shoreline stretching endlessly, the small waves on the horizon tinted a shade of orange with the last rays of sunlight. 

Their new life was beginning, just as their story had started, right by the ocean.

The reception was held in an open area just outside the main city, so they could enjoy the natural surroundings without being too far from home. There were enough tables to seat most of the people in Genosha, a big dance floor, and a bar. Strings of yellow lights hung in the air, illuminating the whole scene and giving the place a warm touch.

At the moment, the music was paused, everyone’s attention directed to one of the best-man speeches.

“...and I want to thank Ororo,” grinned Hank, one hand holding a glass of champagne and the other a crumpled paper with the notes for his speech, “because just before the ceremony, the sky was getting a bit dark. So thanks, Storm, for making sure it didn’t rain during the wedding it took months to plan,” he said, signaling at Ororo with the hand he was using to hold his glass. 

Charles shared a private smile with Erik, both perfectly aware that the biggest challenge in making their marriage possible hadn’t been the planning of the event, exactly. But right now, surrounded by their family and friends, and so many people who wanted to celebrate with them, it was difficult to let even a trace of sadness in.

“Anyway,” Hank carried on, “I have to say that after watching Charles and Erik over the last forty years, whether it was while they were fighting or looking out for each other, to see them finally married is a relief, honestly,” he smiled. Some laughs were heard in the background, their friends nodding, having witnessed at least some of those countless fights and make-ups. “But really,” he continued, getting a bit more serious this time, looking at them now. “I know you’ve never had it easy at all, and I’m glad that you’ve finally let yourselves have this. You truly deserve it,” he raised his glass. “So, here’s to Charles and Erik.”

As everyone toasted, Peter received the mic from Hank, waiting until it was quiet again. “Hi,” he greeted, looking around the crowd. “Before I start, I also want to thank Ororo, cause I’m sure those clouds formed after the Professor decided to appear at his house, out of schedule, by the way, while my dad was still there, just before the ceremony. I told you,” he said, pointing his glass at the newlyweds with a smug smile, “seeing each other before the wedding is bad luck.”

Erik rolled his eyes with fondness, and Charles stifled a laugh.

A couple of hours later, most of the guests were either on the dance floor or sharing drinks at the bar, their dinners finished long ago. The music was loud, but the lights were dimmed a bit, and Charles and Erik had decided to go back to their table, smiles on their faces, a bit flushed after dancing for a while. They’d had their fair share of congratulations as well, both from their family and people from Genosha, but now they wanted to have a moment for themselves.

“You have to admit I made a great choice with the centerpieces,” said Erik with a grin, levitating one of the small metal lanterns, turning it around to appreciate it. “I’m sure I’ve seen some tables without them, don’t doubt one day we will be having dinner at one of our neighbors’ and we will see one of these on their tables.”

“Yes, darling,” conceded Charles, “they are very nice, truly. I think we got it right with the food as well.”

“Yeah, everyone seemed to enjoy it.”

Charles nodded, looking happily around them. He caught Hank at the bar, having a light conversation with one of the teachers of Genosha’s school. Not too far away, Ororo, Scott, Kurt, and Peter were dancing, laughing at something one of them had said. “Yes, everything turned out perfectly, I think.”

“I guess we’ll have to thank Hank,” said Erik with a chuckle, not too fond of the idea.

“Already did, don’t worry about it,” Charles reassured him. “Though we may have to apologize for all the stress we’ve caused him over the years.”

Erik smirked, remembering Hank's speech. He had been right, though. They had spent most of their life fighting and coming back to each other time and time again, never quite finding the way to reconcile their differences and build something that belonged to both of them. Not until a few years ago, anyway, and Charles felt a bit of regret creeping in again, something inevitable when he thought about all the precious years they had spent apart from each other. But he did not let it linger for more than a few seconds.

“I wish Raven were here,” he said, casually. He felt Erik tense up a bit, until he noticed Charles was saying this with fondness rather than sorrow.

“Me too,” he sighed, a soft smile on his face. “Though she would’ve been harsher if she were the one giving the best woman’s speech. She would’ve probably embarrassed us publicly.”

Charles laughed. “She totally would have.”

He took a moment to remember everyone they had lost, everyone who should’ve been here celebrating with them right now. Raven, Jean, Alex, Sean… the list could go on and on. But right now, the only thing they could do was promise to continue building a safe place for mutants, for people just like them. 

Charles took Erik’s hands in his, their fingers instantly interwining. He looked at their wedding rings, silver and gleaming, reflecting the lights above them. How right they felt on their fingers, where they were meant to be, instead of inside a hidden box in a drawer. How could he have ever doubted this? 

How could he have ever denied himself the happiness he was feeling with Erik right now?

A slow song started to play in the background, and Charles felt like dancing again. He would do anything if it were with Erik.

“Come on,” he said, tugging at Erik’s hands, then moving his wheelchair away from the table and towards the dance floor. Erik just smiled and stood up, eager to follow him wherever he wanted to take him.