Chapter Text
"What do you mean, Peter is failing algebra and biology?" Erik demands.
"I mean exactly what I said. Peter is failing algebra and biology," Magda says, far too calmly for Erik's liking.
He bites his tongue to stop from saying what he really wants to—that Magda babies Peter, and that's why the kid doesn't take anything seriously. That Peter needs to grow up and stop treating life like one of the video games he's always playing. That maybe, if Magda actually disciplined Peter, he would behave.
He grits his teeth and says, "Okay. So what do we do about that?"
Magda sighs, like this is somehow the wrong answer. "We don't have to anything. I got him a tutor."
"We've tried tutors before," Erik says. They had, and it never ends well with Peter—he's too hard to teach, he doesn't pay attention, he terrorizes the tutors once he gets tired of trying to play by their rules.
"Yes," Magda says patiently, like she's talking to a child. "But I have a good feeling about this one. He teaches one of my classes. He's—"
"Does he know that Peter's a mutant?" Erik says, because that's the most important thing, really. He won't subject his child to any anti-mutant bigot, even if the guy could get Peter on the honor roll.
"Yes, Erik. Of course." Magda sounds like she's losing her patience. It's not something that Erik had heard until they got divorced. It had been an amicable end to an amicable marriage, so he thought that their divorce would be equally amicable. Maybe that had been foolish of him, like Emma says.
Magda goes on, "He's a mutant, too. A telepath."
Erik relaxes. "Oh. Okay. And he's aware that Peter is… difficult?"
"He's aware of Peter's learning difficulties, yes. In fact… he's already met Peter. It seems like it's a good fit."
"What the hell, Magda? That's the kind of thing we should—" Erik stops and takes a deep breath. What's done is done. "Fine," he grits out. "You said it went well?"
Magda's quiet for a moment, and then she says, "Yes, it did."
"Great,” Erik says shortly, rubbing at his forehead.
"He agreed to tutor every weekend," Magda says. "Are you okay having him at your place this Saturday?"
"Every weekend? And you said he teaches one of your classes?" Erik frowns. "How much are we paying this guy?" And this time, we refers to Erik, because between the kids and attending school, Magda has her hands too full to work full-time, and Erik pays for everything. He's happy to, really, but it's—a lot, and he imagines that a college professor wouldn't be tutoring a high schooler unless they made it worth his time.
"Nothing, actually,” Magda says. "He said that he's very interested in teaching mutant children, and he's happy to help. He's a nice kid, Erik. You know I wouldn't introduce anyone to Peter unless I was confident it was the right decision for him."
Erik feels immediately chastened. She's right. Magda is an amazing mom, even if their parenting styles seem to be diverging the older the kids get. He trusts her more than he trusts anyone. "You're right. Sorry, Mags."
"It's okay," she softens. "I know you're just looking out for him. So I can tell the tutor yes?"
Erik's pretty sure Magda already did, but he guesses he appreciates her asking anyway. “Sure."
"Great! We'll see you Friday."
"See you then," Erik says.
"Daddy!" Lorna squeals and throws herself into Erik's arms.
"Hi, Loo," Erik says, squeezing her tight. He squeezes her until she starts giggling and trying to wriggle out of his arms, and then he starts tickling her.
"Daddy, noooo, stop!" Lorna screams, laughing and flailing about.
Erik stops when he can hear the pots in the kitchen clanging against each other. He steadies the metal right away, hoping Magda didn't hear it. "Shh," Erik laughs and shushes Lorna, who's still giggling and beaming up at him.
"I thought I heard you," Magda says, walking into the foyer. "I wasn't sure until my dinner almost ended up on the floor."
"Sorry about that," Erik says, winking at Lorna.
She winks back, though it's more of a full-face scrunch, and says, "I'll go get Wanda and Petey!" and runs off.
"How've you been?" Erik asks Magda.
"Good," she says, but doesn't volunteer any more information. It's been nearly two years, and Erik still isn't used to not being privy to every detail of her life. It feels wrong.
"Classes are going well?" he says.
She brightens a bit, "Yeah. I've even made some friends."
"Yeah?" Erik says. It's her second semester back at school, and she had complained many times about not fitting in with the kids in her classes. He can't blame her—anyone under the age of twenty-five feels like a child, at their age.
"It turns out there's a whole study group for old people who go back to school," she says.
"Oh, come on," Erik says. "You're not old."
"I'm almost forty," Magda laughs.
"You don't look a day over thirty," Erik says. It's true; Magda is an incredibly beautiful woman. Her hair is as red and vibrant as it was the day they'd met.
Magda's face falls, like he's said the wrong thing. Again. He stopped being able to say the right thing to her a few years ago, it turns out.
Peter and Wanda trudge into the room, followed by Lorna. "Hey Dad," Peter says cheerfully.
"Hey, you two. How's it going?" Erik claps Peter on the shoulder and pulls Wanda in for a quick hug.
"Hi," Wanda says quietly. She gives him a small smile.
"Come on, guys! Dad said we can get ice cream on the way to his place!" Lorna says, tugging at her siblings.
"I don't remember saying that," Erik laughs.
Magda hugs their kids tightly and kisses Lorna on the head.
"I'll see you guys Sunday," she says, as the kids file out the door. Erik turns to leave—evidently, this is not one of those times where they awkwardly hug goodbye—and she says, "Wait, Erik."
"Hm?" he looks back at her.
"I took care of everything with Peter's tutor. You're still good with that, right?"
"Daaad," Lorna yells from the car.
"Yeah, that's fine," Erik says. "Thanks for taking care of that, Mags. See you Sunday."
After the divorce, Erik took a higher-paying job about an hour away from his old house, and got an apartment in between the two. He hadn't wanted Magda to feel any financial strain, even when he had to basically double his living expenses. His new job was mind-numbingly dull and still had a thirty minute commute from his apartment, but he refused to be a full hour away from his kids.
Peter and Wanda will be turning sixteen later this year, and as terrifying as it is to imagine Peter behind the wheel of a car, he wants to be close enough that they can easily visit him. He doesn't know if they actually will, but… he wants them to have the option.
They end up getting ice cream on the way home, like they usually do. Every two weeks, Lorna seems to con him into it. It's impossible to say no to her, when she grins at him like he's made all her dreams come true, just from an ice cream cone.
He wishes it was that easy to make Wanda smile, these days. She won't even eat the ice cream. She says it hurts her teeth, but when Erik offers to get her a hot chocolate, she turns that down, too.
Peter is always happy about it, though Erik thinks he really doesn't need the sugar.
Two out of three isn't all that bad, Erik thinks. Not these days.
On Saturday, Erik wakes up early and makes breakfast with Lorna. The twins are sleeping in, but he and Lorna make extra pancakes so that they can warm them up when they finally get up. Erik washes some fruit for them as well, even though they probably won't eat it.
Then Lorna sneaks back into the room she shares with Peter, quietly so she doesn't wake him up, and retrieves her friendship bracelet supplies. She's been obsessed with making them all year, and every two weeks, she sits at the small dining room table and spreads her supplies out all over it and makes bracelets.
Erik sits with her and makes a bracelet while he waits for one of the twins to get up so he can go for a run. Lorna tells him about school, and her seemingly ever-growing group of friends.
"—I invited him to play with us, but he didn't want to, so we just sat on the swings together. It was kind of boring, but—Dad." Lorna looks at Erik's bracelet, unimpressed.
"What?" Erik says. It's cartoonishly large, easily six times the size of Lorna's bracelet.
"That's way too big," Lorna says seriously.
"Is it?" Erik says. "Huh. Maybe it can be a friendship necklace?"
"That's not a thing," Lorna says. Erik shrugs and ties it closed, and then puts it around Lorna's neck. "I can't even read it!" Lorna giggles, pressing her chin down to try and get a glimpse of the necklace. "What does it say?"
"It says 'Lorna Sally Lehnsherr is the coolest third-grader ever'," Erik tells her without missing a beat.
"No, it doesn't! That's way too many words!" Lorna says, but she squints harder. Erik shrugs and walks to the kitchen, kissing the top of her head on the way.
Right then, Wanda comes out of her room. She's dressed for the day already, and doesn't look like someone who's just woken up. She's probably been laying in bed for a while, on her phone.
"Hi, Wanda!" Lorna says cheerfully. "Can you tell me what my necklace says?"
"Morning," Erik says. "What do you want for breakfast? I can make you some eggs. Or we have pancakes I can warm up for you."
Wanda doesn't answer him, and pulls at Lorna's necklace to read it. "It says 'Lorna Loo'." Lorna makes a disappointed noise. Wanda turns to Erik, "Can I have coffee?"
Erik hesitates. He doesn't know if Magda lets the kids drink coffee, but Wanda is fifteen now, so it's probably fine. "Sure. I'll make a pot before I go on my run. Just make sure to eat some breakfast, too."
Wanda flashes him a rare smile. She looks just like Magda when she smiles, but far more commonly, she looks like Erik when she scowls.
Erik makes her coffee, changes into his running clothes, and tells them he'll be back in an hour.
It's much later in the day than it usually is when he runs, so even in the early spring weather, the sun is bright and hot. He's incredibly sweaty when he returns, and he pulls his shirt to mop at his face as he lets himself in his apartment with a wave of his hand.
He's not surprised to hear Peter up, finally—it's almost eleven—but he is surprised to hear an unfamiliar, lilting voice, chatting with his children.
"What the fuck?" Erik says, staring at the stranger at his table, sitting with Peter and Lorna, who is still surrounded by hundreds of plastic beads.
"Dad!" Lorna says, scandalized.
The man—boy, really, he looks terribly young—is staring at him, looking incredibly surprised for someone who is trespassing in his home.
"Who the hell are you?" Erik demands, and the kitchen shudders with a loud rattling noise. The kids at least, look calm, which is the only thing stopping Erik from making an actual threat.
The man's face falters, "I'm sorry, I was told you were expecting me. Peter said…"
Peter rolls his eyes, "Dad, this is the Prof. Mom told you he was coming today, remember?"
Peter's tutor. Erik doesn't remember Magda saying he'd be in Erik's apartment, but he does remember her saying he'd be working with Peter every weekend. Somehow, he thought that'd meant every weekend at her place.
A sense of relief floods through Erik that a strange man hasn't broken into his home where his three children are. Wanda scoffs from her spot on the couch.
"Please, call me Charles. You can all call me Charles," the man says, looking at Peter with an amused look, like he's said this before. He stands up and strides over to Erik, holding out a hand. "I'm so sorry about the miscommunication. I can leave, if it's a bad time."
"No, it's fine. I just—forgot," Erik says. He looks at Charles' hand, "I'd shake your hand, but…"
"Right," Charles says. His eyes flicker to Erik's shirt, which is plastered to his skin with sweat. He clears his throat. "Well, it's very nice to meet you…"
"Erik," Erik says, relaxing further.
"Erik," Charles repeats, with a winning smile. "I'm Charles Xavier. Call me Charles."
"You said that," Erik says, "Charles."
"So I did," Charles laughs. Had Magda said this guy was her professor? He hardly looks old enough to attend a college class, let alone teach it. He must have one of those baby faces, Erik supposes. He's certainly not hurting for it, in any case. He's good-looking in a charming, boyish way; bouncy dark hair, cheerful blue eyes, and lips so red that Erik wonders for half a second if he's wearing makeup. Between his looks and his pleasing accent, Erik assumes he must be the recipient of many student crushes.
"Dad," Lorna says, "Mr. Charles said that friendship necklaces are not a thing."
"I said that they're not a thing to my knowledge, Lorna," Charles says. "There's plenty of things in the world that we don't know about, but that doesn't mean they're not things."
"Maybe I invented them," Erik says, and winks at Charles before stepping around him. "Loo, why don't you clean up your bracelet stuff so Peter and Mr. Charles can have the table to work?"
Peter grins, "Or we could just skip tutoring and make bracelets!"
Lorna cheers. Erik frowns, "Peter. If someone is taking time out of their day to help you, you need to appreciate that. Don't give him a hard time. Lorna, please clean up your things. Now."
Peter is also still wearing his pajamas, which drives Erik crazy, but he's learned to pick his battles with his son. Or, he's trying to learn. He at least waits until after his shower to snap, "Peter. Go put some real clothes on." Peter rolls his eyes and returns in a flash, fully dressed. Erik thinks the eye-roll is wholly unnecessary, considering the gesture itself took longer than the action he was protesting.
"Can I get you anything to drink, Charles?" Erik says. "Or if you're hungry, I could order some pizza. Wanda, did you eat breakfast?"
"Oh, can we get pizza, Dad?" Peter says. "I can run to Tony's and get some."
"I'll go with you," Wanda offers. Peter groans playfully, even though his sister is probably the only person in the world he doesn't mind slowing down for.
"Does that sound okay?" Erik says to Charles.
"Pizza sounds lovely, thank you," Charles says. His posh accent makes everything he says sound silky.
They order and the twins take off—even though Peter could have them there and back in a moment, it's a beautiful day out and Peter is surely itching to stretch his legs. Erik feels better with them sticking together, anyway. He can't help but worry about Wanda using her powers in public on accident and attracting attention from the wrong person. He knows that Peter would never let anything happen to his sister.
Lorna stays behind, eyes glued to the cartoon she's watching.
"Did you want anything to drink?" Erik says again to Charles.
"I'd take tea, if you have it." Charles says, and he joins him in the kitchen, looking with interest at the fridge. It's covered in random junk—paperclips, bottlecaps, and various utensils.
"I'm working with Lorna to train her powers," Erik says, gesturing to the fridge. He turns and starts looking through his cabinet to see what he has in the way of tea. "She's getting really good at making semi-permanent magnets. Those are from a few weeks ago."
A few visits ago, he thinks. Not weeks. Sometimes it feels like his life is just sitting around waiting for the next time he sees his kids. "I only have chamomile tea, is that okay?"
"That's perfect," Charles says.
Erik fills the kettle with water and holds a hand out to heat the metal. He's not really sure why he does it. Boiling water the usual way doesn't take all that long. But surely Charles would appreciate having his tea as soon as possible.
"So what exactly is Lorna's power, then?" Charles says.
Erik puffs up with pride, "She can control electromagnetism, same as me."
"Oh!" Charles' eyes light up. They really are so blue. "That's wonderful. She's so young for her powers to have manifested, too. It must be so nice to be able to offer her guidance."
"It is," Erik says. Lorna is certainly much easier than the twins, in almost every way. Peter is… well, Peter. And Wanda used to be easy, but since her powers have developed and become more unpredictable, she's become withdrawn and moody. Magda also says that's just how teenage girls are. He just hopes that Lorna doesn't shut him out one day, too.
It's right then, that Erik remembers what else Magda had said about him. That he's a mutant too. "You're a telepath," Erik says. He can feel the water start to boil, so he prepares Charles' tea.
Charles smiles, "Yes. Is that a problem for you?" His voice takes an edge, so subtle Erik could be imagining it.
"Not at all," Erik says. "Wanda is a telepath, among other things. And Emma, the kids' aunt—a family friend, that is—she is, too." He levitates the mug over to Charles, using the metal strips affixed at the base.
"Oh, thank you." Charles says happily accepting the mug, tension fleeing like it was never there. "That explains your shields, then. They're remarkably proficient."
"When Wanda's powers manifested, I asked Emma to teach me." Specifically, when Erik's marriage started falling apart; he had never wanted Wanda to hear anything about that, ever. He can only hope that Emma's lessons with Magda taught her well enough, too.
"I see," Charles says. "You seem like a wonderful father."
Erik's face heats up. It's an incredibly personal thing to say, and Charles doesn't even know Erik.
"I just mean," Charles says, "it's nice of you to—you're very involved with your children, it seems. Magda speaks very highly of you."
"She does?" Erik says, bewildered. He only sees the kids every other weekend, and Magda always seems like she's pissed off with him.
"Yes," Charles says, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "I'm sorry if I misspoke. She made it sound like you have a very, ah, cordial relationship."
An unpleasant thought occurs to Erik. "Are you sleeping with Magda? I know she's older, but she's still your student. That's still very—"
"What?" Charles yelps, and he jumps so hard he splashes tea on his hands. "Oh, Christ, that's hot—"
"Shit, are you okay?" Erik quickly waves the mug to the counter and ushers Charles to the sink, which is already on and running cool water by the time they get there. He grabs Charles' hands and holds them under the water.
Charles' face is bright red, "I'm certainly not sleeping with Magda."
"Right," Erik says, feeling very guilty. "Of course. I'm sorry. That was rude. I just…"
"It's all right," Charles says, staring at his hands, which are still being held by Erik's. Erik lets go of them like he's the one that's been scalded.
"Sorry, I just—I went into dad mode," Erik laughs sheepishly, "and uh, ex-husband mode, I guess."
Charles snorts. "It's all right," he says again. "I can only imagine how complicated marriage can be." He turns off the water and inspects his hands, "No harm done. I'm just dramatic."
"Good," Erik says in relief. "I'd hate to ruin Peter's chances at passing tenth grade."
Charles laughs, "No need to worry on that front. I'm confident I'll be able to help your son."
"So what did you think about Charles?" Magda asks, the next time he calls to check in.
"The tutor?" Erik asks, like he doesn't know exactly who Charles is. Charles, who had somehow gotten Peter to pay attention and show an interest in biology. Charles, who had stayed for several excruciatingly long hours on Saturday before finally leaving.
It's not that Erik wanted him to leave, exactly, it's just that… he felt much more comfortable when the man was gone. He's just not used to having someone in his living space other than his kids, or Magda, or Emma. It's a bit uncomfortable, especially since Charles refused when Erik had followed him outside and tried to pay him. Charles hadn't even considered it, like Erik was silly to offer him money. Erik doesn't know what to do with a stranger who's helping his family out of seemingly just the goodness of their heart.
"Yes, the tutor," Magda says. "Did you like him?"
"Sure. I mean, I don't have to like him. He just has to be good with Peter."
"Yes," Magda says slowly, "that's what I'm asking. Do you think he was good with Peter?"
"Oh," Erik says. "Yeah, I do. Peter seemed like he was actually listening to him."
Magda breathes out in relief, "Yeah. I thought so too. I think this could really work."
Erik allows the thought to settle. Things might be okay with Peter. "Good. He might finally grow up and stop fucking around so much," Erik says.
Magda's silent, and Erik can picture the pinched look on her face as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. "Peter's trying his best, Erik."
"I highly doubt that," Erik mutters.
"Okay, well," Magda says testily, "I'm glad Charles has your blessing." And it's weird, because even though Magda is surely older than Charles, shouldn't she call him Professor Xavier, or something?
Erik grunts noncommittally.
She sighs, "Sorry. I'm just—stressed. I know you're just worried about Peter."
"The tutor does seem like he'll be able to help Peter," Erik says. "Thank you for finding him, Mags."
"Of course," Magda says. "And isn't he so cute?"
Erik frowns. Sure, objectively he's—his hair is nice, and his eyes are very blue, and his skin is—but still, that's just. Completely inappropriate for Magda to say about her professor. It really rubs Erik the wrong way.
"You're not sleeping with him, are you?" Erik has to check.
"What the fuck, Erik? No, of course not," Magda says incredulously. "Are you kidding?"
"I had to ask," Erik says defensively.
"You really didn't," she says flatly. "God, he's so young. I would never do that."
And that's a bit of an overstatement, Erik thinks. Charles does look quite young, but he's a college professor. Surely he must be around thirty. And Magda is not even forty—it's not that much of a stretch. Still, Erik is relieved to hear that they're not sleeping together. Again. Now he knows for sure.
"Okay, fine. Jesus." Erik says.
"Jesus you," Magda snaps. And she's mad at him again, so Erik decides to get off the phone before he can piss her off any more.