Work Text:
Rebuilding the mansion took the better part of the afternoon --the better part the weekend, really--but the final touches came together quite well. Charles is grateful enough that his home could be rebuilt to its similar stature, thanks to Erik and Jean his contractor bill was lower than the fortune it would've been. He hears Hank arguing with the insurance company on the phone earlier, and by the exasperation on his face Charles can tell the forms he'll have to fill later won't be pleasant to read through.
It's a relief when the trucks leave the driveway on their final day. The crowd of students sitting on the grass cheer and holler as Jean and Erik bring down the roof together, and then disperse to take a look at their newly repaired school. It's a shame his grandfather's tree couldn't have stood through to see it.
In the rush of students moving forward Charles doesn't anticipate the fire-haired girl that launches into him, hugging tightly. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath but his arms find their way around her neck, smoothing her hair down with one hand as she laughs into his shoulder softly. He let's her excitement engulf him, knowing her joy at having accomplished so much with her powers.
"Thank you Jean," he says, if not for the millionth time in the short span of events that have occurred. He says it again and again, quickly giving a peck to her temple before letting her go. When she looks down at him she puffs out a sigh of defeat, smiling. It's a good look on her, having been so subdued since their battle with Apocalypse. He hopes she knows how proud he is.
"It wasn't all me," she rolls her eyes at the Professor.
"Even so, it couldn't have been done without you."
At this reminder Charles raises his head to glance ahead of Jean, to where she and Erik had stood moments before. He catches no sight of him among the students filing in. Deciding not to question it he let's Jean push him back to the mansion.
There's still redecorating to be done as most of the furniture was destroyed. They salvaged what they could in the aftermath, but it wasn't enough. Boxes lay around the rooms full of unassembled chairs and tables. Students linger around the halls examining their newly refurbished home. Classes won’t return in session but the students keep themselves busy fairly well with helping around the mansion. Charles and Jean split ways when she excuses herself, admitting how tired she was after completing the construction. He pats her hand behind him on the chair, wishing her to get some rest.
Wheeling to his study Charles feels a bit tired himself, in spite of all that’s occurred he figures he could use a nap as well. Upon entering his office it’s fairly neat, more so because there aren’t enough things to make a mess of so he makes a beeline for the sofa adjacent from his desk.
He wakes feeling a dead weight against him. Sprawled on the other side of the couch is Erik, head laying on the armrest, eyes closed in slumber. His boots lay on the carpet not far from the couch, crusted in mud. Charles blinks slowly a few times to clear his foggy vision, not quite wanting to rise up completely. However, he does shuffle closer. Shimmying to rest his chin on Erik’s chest. At this distance he gets a closer look at the hard lines etched in Erik’s face; the hollow of his cheeks, the bags beneath his eyes, the uneven stubble across his chin. Despite him being at rest Charles knows Erik is beyond what could be defined as tired. Because even as he dozes Erik’s mind is still restless as ever, his loss and rage still thrumming under the lull of sleep. An undying weariness in his bones. And yet,
Erik’s eyes open briefly, peeking groggily.
“Enjoying yourself?” he mumbles. A quirk to his lips.
Charles bites down a face splitting grin.
There are moments like these. Where the pain and anguish can be subdued. If only momentarily.
So Charles lays his head down and shuffles closer.