Chapter Text
Lorna steps into the room and Erik pulls away, the sudden absence leaving Charles feeling unexpectedly bereft.
“Okay,” Lorna says slowly, “obviously when Hank referred to you as ‘old friends,’ he forgot the quotation marks.”
Charles glances nervously at Erik, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The kiss had been unexpected. Not unwelcome. Not necessarily. But it still felt like a gulf existed between them, one not easily breached.
Erik raises an eyebrow at Lorna and waits expectantly.
She slips back towards the door. “I’ll come back later.”
“Good idea.”
Charles waves at her as she goes, shaking his head once she’s gone. Hopefully she’ll knock next time she needs something. It’s a habit she’s never felt necessary to acquire. Then again, perhaps it was for the best. They’ve started to rebuild what once existed between them, but there’s still so much lost trust and uncertainty. Charles can’t even begin to imagine where they can go from here.
Erik looks back at him. “Well.”
“I’m going to go touch base with Alex. See where we are with organizing the teams,” Charles says quietly.
Despite the world narrowing down to the space between him and Erik, there’s still a war about to begin. The Mutant Registration Act may be up for review in front of the Supreme Court on accusations of being unconstitutional, a battle Charles is largely funding from his own pocket, but there is still unmitigated violence happening against their people, and they have to prepare themselves to help in whatever way they can, even if it means relying on that same violence.
Erik raises an eyebrow, but inclines his head. “As you wish.”
He shows himself from the room before Charles can leave, and Charles watches his retreating back with mixed feelings. No, he hadn’t expected them to forget the past fourteen years of regret and distrust, but he’d hoped there would be something there. Some salvageable remnant of what they once shared. But he’s hesitant. It took him the better part of a decade to get over Erik last time he left, and faced with him again…
He shakes his head and wheels out of the room. There are more important things at stake here than his feelings for Erik, however muddled they may be. Hopefully, he and Erik will have time to find the balance between them and see if there’s a chance of regaining the future he once saw for them. But he can’t idly risk his heart again. Not if their differences in philosophy will only end up driving them apart once more. He’s become more sympathetic to Erik’s point of view. Raising a daughter in a world which hates her has robbed him of the rose-tinted glasses he once wore, his desperate need to keep her safe driving him far outside of his comfort zone. But it doesn’t mean he wants to dominate the human race and subjugate them in favor of mutants. He won’t. And he won’t let Erik do it either. Even if…even if it means breaking his own heart yet again.
Unsurprisingly, Logan is waiting in the hallway for him when he emerges. He’s rather wondered when his old friend would decide to corner him. It seems long overdue.
“All right, Chuck. Give it up,” Logan mutters, falling into pace with Charles’ wheelchair.
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” Charles says, more for form than anything else.
“Bullshit.”
“Language, Logan. There are still children around here.” At least until they made arrangements for the civilians and mutants with families to escape to Canada. It would hopefully be a temporary measure, but with the overcrowding in the mansion, it wasn’t safe to keep everyone here.
“Is he the reason you and I never worked out?”
“Perhaps partly.” Charles glances at Logan sidelong. “But as I recall there were several conversations around your deplorable habit of smoking those horrible cigars in bed as well.”
Logan smirks. Between the two of them, friendship always come before other considerations. Charles and the others pulled him out of the Weapon X program before they could make further ‘modifications’ to his physiology, tipped off by a friend of Charles’ working in Washington. While Logan recovered under their care, his stay had gradually shifted from one of reluctant acceptance to genuine investment. Charles has never had a more loyal friend.
Logan’s eyes narrow. “Gonna be honest. Not sure if I like him. Good in a fight, maybe. But there’s a lot of anger there.”
“Why, Pot, have I never introduced you to my friend Kettle?”
Logan dutifully ignores him. “Maybe I’ll have a talk with him.”
“Logan.” Charles stops and turns, meeting Logan’s eyes to ensure he has the other man’s full attention. “I am forty-four years old. I do not need anyone defending my virtue.”
“Well, I’m a mite older than that. I figure it’s my prerogative.” Logan winks salaciously. “No worries, Chuck. I’ll be discreet.” He starts off down the hall.
“I wasn’t aware you knew the meaning of the world,” Charles calls after him.
Logan waves him off over his shoulder and disappears around a convenient corner. Charles shakes his head and continues onward. He really does need to find Alex. And then call the contractor responsible for building their new home in New York. While the Academy has worked as a stopgap, he wants to maintain the sanctuary he’s created here and the constant ebb and flow and fallout from their eventual war will interrupt that. Once the new mansion is built, he and Erik will take the mutants interested in participating and start formalized training there.
The wave of nostalgia isn’t unexpected. The thrill of anticipation is.