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For the past twenty-five minutes, the Wolverine has been moving from one side to the other, as if he could not simply get comfortable. Erik’s eyes are very much on the road, but it is quite impossible to ignore the adamantium shifting inconsistently.
Finally, he sighs, cutting off Charles’ explanation about how these trees they were driving past only grew during this time of the year and really, Erik, we should be appreciating it more.
“Do you hate the backseat, Wolverine?” he asks. “Would you rather walk all the way to the base? I would not stop you, mind you.”
It’s Charles’ turn to sigh. Must you antagonize him at every turn?
Yes, Erik replies easily.
Wolverine makes a sound. “Oh, excuse me for bein’ weirded out that I’m bein’ drove around by Magneto with the Professor, who’s lookin’ very alive for a dead man.”
“I reiterate the offer, then: would you rather walk?”
“Erik,” Charles says out loud this time. He pinches his thigh, quite childishly, and Erik shakes his head. “Logan, I understand these are weird times for you right now. However, Erik was right earlier: there are dark forces coming. I can assure you, this is probably not going to be the weirdest thing you will see. If I were you, I’d start further preparing.”
“I really got no clue as to how this could get crazier, but I guess I’d rather not find out,” Wolverine answers. His turn to sigh. “And what? I’m s’pposed to just, trust him? Just hope he doesn’t rip off my bones?”
“It is very tempting,” Erik says.
Dear God, Erik. You’re literally just doing this to mess with him.
I need entertainment where I can get it, Erik protests. Out loud, he says, “You were never my favorite X-Men, Wolverine.”
“Well—”
“Oh, do elaborate,” Charles perks up. “I didn’t know you cared so much about my students. Who’s your favorite?”
“Storm seems to be the only sane one,” Erik says easily. “My vote goes to her.”
“Quite a dry answer. I expected more.”
“That’s all you get. Unless you want dumbest X-Men, which—I would strongly vote Cyclops on that one.”
Wolverine chuckles at that.
“Rogue’s fine, but she’s too—what’s the word, emotional? Quite the teenager. Amazing power, but I recall her being somewhat a crier.”
“‘Cause you kidnapped her, asshole.”
“Details,” Erik waves him off. “Anyhow, Nightcrawler isn’t so bad, I suppose. He’s a funny one.”
“I didn’t know you had opinions about Kurt,” Charles says, seemingly delighted that he does know his students and cares for them. Not that Erik cares, but you are bound to learn of the X-Men if they keep foiling your plans. “How delightful.”
“Oh, I like Kitty,” Erik adds. Charles brightens up even more. “I suppose those are the only X-Men I like. Anyhow, you had your fun. Pray tell your favorite member of the Brotherhood.”
Charles scrunches up his nose. “See, I do not have nice memories of any of them.”
“Because my happy memories of the X-Men are simply endless, aren’t they.”
“Fair enough,” Charles sighs. “Well, I liked Mystique, obviously.”
Erik gives his old, fallen comrade a moment of silence. “And who else?”
“See, none of them are particularly memorable,” Charles says. “I’m sorry, Erik, but I can barely keep track of them. I suppose I liked Glob. Creed—”
“Don’t you dare finish any sentence related to him,” Wolverine says, reminding both of them of his presence in the backseat.
“I had nothing to say, anyway,” Charles says. “I think I know what the problem is.”
“Mhm,” Erik answers noncommittally.
“It’s that damnable helmet of yours,” Charles continues, and Erik can feel his relief at the disappearance of it these days. “It stole all the attention from the rest of them. Of course none of them seemed memorable, that bucket thing was too big for me to even look at them.”
“So you only had eyes on me,” Erik says. “Always a romantic, Charles.”
Charles laughs. Inside his head, he adds, Wolverine is wondering if it’s normal for enemies to say that about the other.
You’re saying he doesn’t know.
I suppose our relationship never came up in any discussions. Don’t look at me like that! Were you telling every Brotherhood member you were having an affair with me?
Erik shoots him another look. An affair?
Age has made you into such a dramatic man, Erik. You know I don’t mean any harm by that word. Not like we were in a solid, stable relationship with each other!
I will concede that, Erik relents. Seems like the shock of hearing Erik say romantic has quieted down Wolverine, who’s finally still on the backseat. Charles goes back to happily pointing out things about the road, and if he tries hard to pretend, he can almost think they’re back to those days where they weren’t aware of everything about to come: just them, driving around, chatting about nothing.
He wishes Wolverine did something annoying now. He doesn’t want to dwell in these feelings.
Charles doesn’t say anything to answer his thoughts. Erik glances at him, finding those eyes of his wistfully fixed on something far away. Erik knows he’s reminiscing about the same things.
He sends him a quick nudge, a little push of feelings—just to shake them both out of it. A small smile comes back to Charles’ face, and it’s enough for now.
-
“It is a long drive,” Erik says as he stops the car, “but I think it is best to stop here for the night.”
One of the Brotherhood’s lairs greets him. There’s no one who could find this place unless they are also another member, and Charles looks around appreciatively. Erik quickly feels the place up: it’s as unchanged as the last time he was here, which means there are definitely enough rooms for all of them.
“Wolverine, you are free to take any of the other empty rooms,” Erik says. “Or perhaps you’d rather sleep in the woods with others of your kind. Up to you, truly. Charles and I can take the biggest room.”
Wolverine looks ready to insult him, until he fixes on something else. His face goes from offended to confused in, quite frankly a few amusing, seconds. “You—”
“Erik, I beg of you. Five minutes without antagonizing Logan.”
“What, Charles? I’m being kind. I am offering him the choice to be right at home.”
Wolverine points between them. He looks at the Professor with wide eyes. “With him? Really?”
“Logan, dear, it’s old news.”
“Not to me!”
“It’s old news to anyone with common sense,” Erik says. Wolverine sputters. “Anyhow, enough commotion for one night. Charles, bed.”
Charles sighs. “Always so bossy.”
His wheelchair trails behind Erik, and he doesn’t need to be a telepath to know that poor Wolverine is standing in the middle of the last room staring at them dumbfounded. Well. He must have quite a few years to re-contextualize now, with that information.
He and Charles, on the other hand, have years and years to catch up on.
He watches as Charles prepares for bed, a sight so familiar and so foreign that he cannot bear to look away. Charles smiles at him. “Do stop staring, Erik. If you keep this up, I’ll feel self-conscious, and at my age that is quite a ridiculous thing to feel.”
Erik chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. You look as gorgeous as the day we met.”
Charles gets in bed, the warm amusement washing over inside Erik’s mind. He pats the spot next to him and Erik realizes he has yet to change into more comfortable clothes. He shakes off his coat, takes off his hat, and Charles pointedly smiles when he gets to his pants.
“At your age. Shame on you,” Erik says, no heat behind it. He dutifully crawls on the bed, lying down next to Charles, and still being awed that that’s something he’s doing. “How was today?”
“A little fun,” Charles answers. His hand holds Erik’s, the smoothness of his skin and the familiar weight of it constantly reassuring him that he’s real. And that's enough for Erik to count his blessings again. “Despite you constantly antagonizing Logan, I am quite happy to be reunited with one of my students.”
Erik brings his hand up, gives it a kiss. “Let it be on the record that he annoys me.”
“I know. But does he, really? Not like you are kicking him out. You and I both know you have no qualms getting rid of people you can't stand.”
“You'd be sad if I did,” Erik grumbles. “Can't have you sad. You get whiny, and frankly, we are past the age to whine.”
“See, I am only half offended by this. Back in the day, I would be full offended.”
“I am counting my blessings,” Erik promises with a smile. Charles mirrors it, and for a moment they're quiet.
Some admission of sorts must be on its way. Knowing Charles, it's bound to be heartfelt and overly sentimental, but at this point in his life—after gaining back the one person he had never wanted to lose—he finds sentimentality comes to him easier. Whatever it is, he's ready for it.
“I wish it hadn't taken so much to get you here, like this,” Charles says. There it is.
Erik scoots closer, putting an arm around him and sighing. “I don't have many regrets,” he says. “But the ones I do are related to you. However… Do you know what? After losing you, I find that I don't mind all our past mistakes. Having you here again is worth quieting down my brain and enjoying it.”
Charles tightens his own grip on him. Solid and firm, like Charles should always be. Erik runs his hand across his back, always awed and grateful, still shocked that he is there at all. He can hear him think—quite literally. Although his smiles are genuine and he loves spending time with Erik in whichever way he gets it, he can hear Charles' thoughts clearly: the worries for the future. His concerns over the students he has to find and gather again, worries that the future will even exist at all, and how it dangerously feels like he finally has Erik and the world just has to end.
“It just feels like living on stolen time,” Charles says. “I know that must sound quite… hopeless, coming from me, but I don't know, Erik. Something about this rubs me the wrong way.”
“As it does to me,” Erik answers. He mulls over what he said—living on stolen time. Numbered days, minutes counted. Did they really have a chance? “Either way, nothing is set in stone. We won't know until we try.”
“You sound hopeful, Erik,” Charles smiles a little. He kisses his forehead, fond and soft. “It's nice.”
You came back to me, he doesn't say out loud. I can allow myself a little hope.
-
“I had almost forgotten what a fantastic cook you are,” over his mouthful of scrambled eggs, Charles acts as if he was given the best thing in the world. “You've always had a knack for making the simplest food into something delicious.”
Erik picks at his own plate. It's been a while since he's made food for someone, especially Charles. He hasn't heard praise over it in a long time, and Erik allows himself to stare at the other man next to him. The gentle rays of sunshine add onto his peaceful image, and for a moment, he can pretend this is a normal morning for both of them.
“... You're sure he hasn't poisoned this?” Wolverine asks.
Moment's over, then. Erik turns to him. “I did. Especially yours.”
Wolverine gives him a look. Erik shrugs. “Don't ask stupid questions, then, Wolverine.”
He eats his food, convinced it's going to kill him, the guy who couldn't die. Erik decides to ignore him for now, and upon making that decision, he receives Charles' approval. It is so wonderful to know you can be the bigger man.
Bite me, Charles.
In front of Wolverine? How scandalous!
Erik actually grins at that.
-
Although his pride is more wounded than he'd like to admit, he hands over the remote to the ship to Storm, and agrees that he should rest with Charles.
It's nonsense, really. It felt like only recently that he was still carrying out all his plans with the Brotherhood, and now he was receiving orders from the X-Men to “save some strength” and “rest”. At least Charles looks delighted when he comes back to him, sitting down next to him.
Charles has a blanket on his lap. He's always been prone to being cold, but, agh. His upper body is still cold. Wordlessly, Erik slips out of his cape and drapes it over him like another blanket.
“Oh, would you look at that?” Charles smiles, quite amused. “An actual use for your cape.”
“Very funny, Charles.”
“Stop grumbling and come under it with me,” he says, and well, Erik isn't about to say no to that. He rests his head against Charles' shoulder and tries to fit under his own cape as best as he can. “See? Now you're no longer grumpy.”
“Says who?”
“I say so,” Charles hushes him, and they both smile briefly. Holding his hand, Charles continues, “I think we'll find Kitty soon.”
“Do you truly think so?” Erik grimaces. “Sometimes it feels like we float aimlessly. Every second we spend out here is a threat to our lives. Forgive an old man for jumping to conclusions, but it always appears as if we are headed to doom.”
“I have a feeling,” Charles says, like that says anything.
Truly, I am not doing it to be annoying, Charles continues quietly. It's just that I cannot bring myself to think of what happens if we don't find her.
Counted days. Borrowed time. Erik can bring himself to think of it if Charles won’t. There is a sort of irony in all this; Erik finding his happiest moments with Charles when the world is slipping away from their grasp.
He links his hands with Charles'. It seems like it's all he does, these days.
“When this is all over,” Erik says, feeling indulgent for once, “what do you suggest we do?”
“About mutantkind?”
“No, although we will inevitably get tangled up on that. I mean—haven't you ever wanted us to go on a vacation?”
Charles brightens up. He looks down at Erik on his shoulder, as if shocked he's even entertaining the idea.
“I imagine tickets to Rio de Janeiro must be pretty cheap, you know, for the end of the world,” he says. Erik smiles a little. “I think you'll blend in just fine.”
“And I think you wouldn't survive the Brazilian sun,” Erik says back. “Are you sure you want to go there?”
“True enough. Perhaps Thailand?”
“Another country with semi-high temperatures,” Erik argues.
“Easy. We can go during winter. Will not suffer as much then, and I do love how you look with those long coats of yours.”
Erik chuckles. “I miss wearing them. Seems like I have not stepped out of this battle gear in forever.”
“Seems like it,” Charles agrees. Steering the conversation away from heavier topics, Charles aimlessly traces patterns on his hand. “And what else, Erik? Do you think we could get a house?”
After all, Charles' mansion would probably take a long time to repair—if it ever, at all.
Erik tries to picture the life they're currently imagining. And he had thought he was done yearning!
“Would you like a cabin, maybe?” Erik suggests. “I find that with age I crave tranquility. I would not live near a city, I believe.”
“We are in the same page,” Charles says. “I think I'd quite like to live in a cabin with you, Erik. Just the two of us. But I must stress it needs to have a fireplace.”
Erik shakes his head. “You get cold so easily now.”
“Would you deny me of holding each other in front of the fire, all cozied up and very much in love?”
Erik laughs. There is also some sort of irony to be found, the way he has now laughed more than ever. He can't help the bitterness, the never-ending thought of how he wished he had done this a few years earlier.
“No, I wouldn't,” Erik finally answers. He tries to get closer to Charles, impossibly so, and resolves to try to keep being alive.
For the promise of a cabin in the woods, just the two of them.
-
When he grabs Charles' hand, knowing he doesn't have much time left, he is shocked to see the scenery around him changing. Suddenly, they are no longer crammed in a room, awaiting their impending doom.
Erik finds himself standing up, feet firmly planted on sand, warm and familiar. His wound is gone. Charles stands next to him, holding his hand.
“The Astral Plane, Charles?” Erik asks. It's been forever since they were here. In fact, he had forgotten Charles had access to it at all. “You're buying us time.”
“We were living on borrowed time, anyway,” Charles grips his hand a little tighter. “I cannot make this last forever. But I can extend the seconds between then and our…”
“Our demise?”
Charles nods. “I can make those few minutes extend until they no longer can.”
“Wouldn't it be better to get this over with?” Erik asks. “Our time travel mission was a failure. I would rather hope to die first, as to not go through losing you again.”
Charles looks at him. His gaze is heavy, serious. “What makes you think I could ever bear to watch you die? Even if I'm to follow next? Forgive me for being selfish, Erik, but I cannot help it. Until the last moments of my life, all I ever wanted was more time with you.”
Erik smiles ruefully. His life is ending, and if he were to be honest, there is no better way to go than this one—with his best friend, his worst enemy, his one and only.
“I don't think any amount of time will ever satisfy me,” Erik confesses. “I only ever wanted a lifetime with you.”
“Maybe the next one,” Charles says. “I have faith our time travel mission could have a last second twist.”
“Ever the optimist, eh?” Erik grins a little. “Still. I think I am quite envious of them.”
“For getting to live?”
“Yes. It's not like the me that exists now will ever know we made it, in that other timeline. All our current memories now, everything we lived—it's going to stop existing. Heartbreaking, isn't it? Gone without a trace. And I quite liked our moments together.”
Charles remains quiet. Then, softly, he says: “What were some of your favorite ones?”
This is the astral plane, isn't it? Erik could just conjure up anything he wanted. Or, granted, Charles could. He shares the first moment of many, 1996, one of Professor Xavier's famed talks taking place at an auditorium in California. The scenery shifts to that time, Erik in the audience, and Charles giving his speech on stage.
“You had given me quite a scare,” Charles reminisces fondly. “I tried to find you after that. You were gone just as you had arrived.”
“Well,” Erik says, looking at their past selves frozen in time. Wouldn't that be nice? To freeze time? “I had convinced myself it was to check what foolish things you were preaching to humans. What sort of image you were selling to be accepted. And then you started talking—reminded me of everything I like about you. Had to leave after the realization that it was impossible to stop loving you.”
Charles smiles. “I thought something similar after seeing you and realizing my heart could still speed up.”
“Ever a romantic, Charles.”
“Of course.” The scenery changes again. Another scene frozen in time, Charles putting an arm around Erik, earnestly drunk and endearing as always. “I realized I was in love with you in this one. You see, it was quite silly. You were drunk, and you were frowning at your beer like it offended you that the alcohol did its intended job on your system. And I thought: what a foolish man. I love him.”
“I don't think I have one moment like that,” Erik says regretfully. He might have been in love with Charles for as long as he's known him. He does conjure up another memory: one rare morning after, where Charles was still asleep, and Erik got to drink him in and admire everything about him. “I have plenty of moments like this, though.”
There's a pull on his lower left again, the previously unfeeling wound beginning to make the rounds once more. Ah. They must be closer to the end, then.
Charles turns around, holds him tighter. “Isn't it so sad? That these memories will just be gone? That this life will just cease to exist, and soon will be erased? Did it not mean anything?”
Erik puts his hands on his waist. “It means the world to me.”
A beat of silence. The wound hurts a bit more again.
“I will miss you,” Charles mumbles.
“And I you,” Erik answers.
Ah. He's pretty tired, now.
He hopes Charles holds out the Astral plane for as long as possible. Leaving this world behind with Charles in his arms—
Isn't it such a way to go?
-
“Well, Logan is still somewhat confused about everything after 1973, but I figure Scott and Jean can help him fill in the blanks,” Charles is saying as he packs up yet another suitcase. “Do you think I'm taking too much on this trip?”
“Knowing you, Charles, I would daresay you are thinking of getting two more suitcases, to which I say: only one is enough,” Erik says. “We have not even decided a place to go, yet.”
“I hear Rio de Janeiro is really good this time of the year,” Charles grins. “Though if you feel like traveling further, I feel like I would better survive in a country like Thailand. Lovely food and everything.”
Erik smiles back fondly. At this point, anywhere would be fine.
Luckily, there is plenty of time to choose.