Chapter Text
It’s the middle of the afternoon, and traffic is miserable. The one hour drive up to Salem Center takes nearly two; it is sheer good luck that Magneto has so much cash on him, and he gives the driver a hefty tip when he drops him off at the gates.
He’s never entered the school through the front gates, he realizes, noting that the gate still reads Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Not the Xavier-Lehnsherr Institute, then, although that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He doesn’t care if Erik hadn’t wanted his name on the letterhead, as long as he’s still here, as long as he stayed with Charles. And if he does live here still, then he should probably enter through the front gates like a normal person, like someone who belongs here, rather than flying in through Charles’ window uninvited.
But if he lives here, wouldn’t he have a key or something? He stands at the front gate and checks his pockets, but they’re empty, save for a couple of coins and a Starbucks receipt – he’d gotten himself a cappuccino that morning, apparently. That explains the stomachache.
Beep.
Click.
The gate is swinging open, Magneto still standing there dumbly, reading the Starbucks receipt. Glancing around in surprise, he sees a security camera – someone inside must have recognized him and opened the gate. He does belong here, then. This is the second timeline. It will be Young Charles inside waiting for him. No longer young, of course, but it will be him nonetheless.
But that means they’ve spent a lifetime together, he tries to remind himself as he walks towards the front door. That means nearly forty years together, with a Charles who hasn’t suffered at his hand. It should be a comfort, in some way: it’s what he’s always wanted, and yet he has no memory of it. His only memories are of his Charles, the Charles he’s longed for all this time, who now never was.
As he enters the house, no one speaks to him. There are some students around, but not one approaches him or says hello; they only glance at him and look away, going about their business. Wi-Fi is in the air again, and down the hallway he sees the elevator, which makes his heart lurch until he realizes that this is a school and there are laws about wheelchair accessibility, regardless of whether or not the school’s founder uses one. He ignores it, then, and goes down the opposite hallway towards Charles’ office. Assuming it still is Charles’ office. Maybe it’s his.
He knocks.
“Come in.”
He’s almost afraid to open the door. It’s Charles’ voice inviting him in, but he imagines an older Young Charles with thinning brown hair, standing on a stepladder to reach for a textbook on a high shelf, and he just can’t seem to will himself to open the door.
“Come in,” Charles calls again.
With a deep breath, Magneto turns the knob and pushes the door open.
Charles is sitting behind his desk in – there’s no mistaking it – his wheelchair. The emotions that cross his face when he looks up and sees Magneto are too numerous and move too swiftly for him to register what they might mean, but in a moment Charles regains a neutral expression and his eyes return to his paperwork. Only the barest hint of amusement betrays him when he says, “Good afternoon, Magneto, and how does today find you?”
Charles may be trying to play it cool, but Magneto is too overwhelmed with relief at finding his Charles after all, and he’s sure he must be grinning like an idiot when he says, “I don’t know how it found me, but here I am.”
At that Charles looks up, the slightest smirk on his face. “And how did you enjoy 1962?”
Magneto’s face falls. “It was you? You did that?”
“No, it wasn’t me.”
“Then how…”
“Erik came to me. He looked like you, but there was no mistaking it was him. He’s been staying here the past few days while we tried to figure out what to do. He and Hank left this morning to follow a lead – Hank thought it might have been a former student of ours, a green-skinned young man whose powers we never quite understood. I suppose his hunch was right. Although it would have been nice if you’d returned with Hank instead of leaving him in the city by himself, but I suppose you didn’t know that he was there. Quite all right – Hank is a big boy. He can find his own way home.”
“Erik came here?”
“Yes. He was…” Charles sighs. “He was rather upset.”
“I don’t blame him. He lost forty years off his life.”
Charles looks at him kindly. “I don’t think that was what upset him.”
“No,” Magneto says. “Of course not.” He takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of Charles’ desk, locking the office door behind him with his powers, and tries to think what to say. He has no idea where to start.
“So?” Charles smiles, looking mischievous. “How was 1962? Did you see me? How was my hair?”
Magneto laughs. “It was thick and luxurious, but I prefer you without it.”
Charles rolls his eyes, but appears flattered nonetheless.
“Can I ask you a question?” asks Magneto.
“Of course.”
“Whatever happened to Penny?”
“Who?”
“Penny Malone, a little girl you had found in Cerebro while still with the CIA. Her power had to do with languages.”
Charles thinks for a moment before he remembers, a shadow passing over his face. “I went looking for her after I got out of the hospital, but by then it was too late.”
“The CIA?”
Charles shakes his head. “Her grandfather. He was never charged with anything, though. In police records she was listed as missing; in fact, I saw her on a milk carton several months later. I wish I could say she was the only mutant child we didn’t reach in time, but she was only the first.”
Magneto suspected as much, but the confirmation doesn’t hurt any less for it.
“How do you know about her?” Charles asks.
“We saved her,” Magneto says. “You and I, we got to her in time – just barely. We went there the day after Cuba and brought her home with us. She was a good kid. You would have liked her.”
“The day after Cuba? So that means…”
A sad smile creeps across Magneto’s face. “I am happy to report that it went well, this time. We all got out of there without a scratch, you included. We didn’t even have to get off the plane.” He pauses. “It was alarming, actually, how differently it could have gone.”
“Yes, well. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” Charles is looking anywhere but at him, apparently preferring to study the wood grains in his desk to making eye contact with Magneto. It was days ago for him, but for Charles it’s been nearly forty years. Still he looks as hurt as if it had happened yesterday.
“Charles, I’m sorry,” Magneto says.
Charles looks up from his desk with a weak smile. “You don’t need to apologize again. If I had a nickel for every time you’ve apologized for what happened in Cuba, I could purchase the entire Caribbean. It was a long time ago, and it was an accident.”
“It’s not Cuba I want to apologize for. It’s everything that came after.” Charles’ eyebrows shoot up, and Magneto continues. “Charles, when you were hurt, and I asked you to come with me and you said no… I thought…” He shakes his head. “And then a week later I came to see you, to apologize and beg forgiveness, and I saw you kissing Moira, and Beast told me you were together and you were starting the school… It happened so fast, you had already moved on and started making other plans, that I thought you must have always been planning it, that you must have never loved me. I thought that you must have been using me the entire time we were together. I loved you so much, and it tore me apart, for forty years it tore me apart thinking you never loved me back. But then this happened, and I got to see it all over again… I think I was wrong. All this time, I was wrong, and for that I am sorry.”
Charles gapes at him. “You thought I never loved you?”
He nods.
“How could you think that?”
“How could I not? You told me we wanted different things, and within a few days, you had a girlfriend and a new life you were building without me. I spent years aching for what happened, and you had moved on in a week.”
Charles ponders this for a moment. “I wish Hank would have told me that you’d come,” he says quietly. “I had no idea. Probably he didn’t tell me because he knew how devastated I was over you, and he probably thought he was sparing me heartache by keeping it from me.” He looks up at Magneto. “I loved you desperately, and you left me broken and bleeding in the middle of nowhere.”
“You said you didn’t want me.”
“I said I didn’t agree with you, and you left.”
“But,” Magneto sputters, “but in all this time, you’ve never said anything. You must have known how I felt. You must have gotten some whiff of it somewhere along the line. You must have known how much I loved you, and how much it hurt me when you rejected me, so why did you never say anything?”
Charles swallows. “Yes,” he says. “I knew that you loved me, but not enough. You chose your beliefs over me once, and once was enough. I never dared to try again. You’ve always loved your cause more than you loved me. I’ve known that all along, and I’ve accepted it.”
“No, Charles,” says Magneto. “I don’t think there’s anything I’ve ever loved more than you.”
Though his eyes begin to well, Charles doesn’t say anything. He smiles a little, but only rolls his pen between his fingers as he takes a deep breath and lets out a surprised little laugh.
“I didn’t know,” Magneto says. “I was so devastated thinking you had broken up with me, that you’d never loved me at all, that I never had it in me to hope for anything else, not in all this time.”
“I do love you,” Charles says softly. “I always have. I always will.”
Charles hasn’t moved from behind his desk, and Magneto is still sitting across from him, but they are smiling at each other, and with Magneto’s helmet still missing in action, the emotions between them are reflecting back and forth, ricocheting throughout Charles’ small office, filling it enough to nearly drown them. It’s overwhelming enough that Magneto can barely choke out the words when he says roughly, “You know, I’ve been thinking it might be time for me to retire.”
“Is that so?” Charles grins.
Magneto plays coy. “Do you have any ideas for how I might like to spend my retirement?”
Charles laughs. “I can think of a few things.” He moves his chair out from behind his desk and rolls over to Magneto. “Have you ever considered teaching?” he asks, taking Magneto’s face in his hand.
“If you have a place for me.”
“I think we can make room,” Charles says, and kisses him deeply, Magneto throwing his arms around Charles’ shoulders. It’s been forty years, it’s been days, it’s been a lifetime since Charles kissed him last, and if he had to wait another lifetime before Charles kissed him again, Magneto would do it. It would be worth the wait.
Charles pulls back with a small chuckle. “Another lifetime? I rather hope the waiting is over by now.”
“If you’ll have me. If you’ll let me stay.”
“Stay forever.”
“All right,” Magneto says, grinning. “If you insist.”
*
Epilogue
*
Erik is relieved to see Charles finally sneak into the conference room fifteen minutes after the staff meeting has begun. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Charles says as he tiptoes around the table and over to his usual seat at the front next to Erik. “I lost track of time. What are we talking about?”
Azazel gives an overdramatic sigh. “We were just discussing the grand opening of the Arizona school.”
“And?” Charles asks.
Erik closes the folder sitting on the table in front of him. “And I’m not going.”
Ororo glares at him. “Headmaster, they’re expecting you. We can’t have another incident like when the Chicago school opened. We promised them that you would be there for the start of the first semester.”
“I understand that, but I am not going,” Erik says again, determined. “I’m retired.”
Charles turns to him with an eyebrow raised. “You know, darling, I’m starting to get the impression that you’re only ‘retired’ when there’s something you don’t want to do.”
There’s no heat behind Charles’ words – he’s only teasing – but still the whole room tenses. For as long as they’ve known Erik, he’s always been rather formal around the school’s staff, especially the younger faculty members. It’s always Headmaster, or Sir, or Professor; to hear Charles call him ‘darling’ at a staff meeting in front of every member of the faculty is quite shocking. It feels a bit like Charles has offered them a peek into their personal lives, and in a way he has. This conversation about his retirement is well-tread territory between them.
After a moment’s consideration, Erik replies, “I’m semi-retired.”
Charles rolls his eyes in such a way that Erik suspects he’s the only one who notices it. “Fine then. I’ll go to Arizona myself.”
This time Erik tenses while everyone else relaxes. “You’re going?” he asks sharply.
This is the other half of their now near-constant argument. What is the point in him retiring, Erik thinks, if Charles continues working?
“Someone needs to go out there to make sure they set off on the right foot,” Charles says. “And I would be happy to do it.”
Charles always wants to be the one in the field, traveling and fighting and speaking on behalf of mutants, and Erik has always supported him in this; the memory of how it could have been is always at the forefront of his mind. But they’re getting old. Healthy and active though he may be, Charles is in his late sixties now, and Erik wishes he would slow down.
Why don’t you have someone else go? I’m sure that Ororo wouldn’t mind a trip out to Arizona, Erik thinks.
Why don’t we go together? Charles replies. We can stay a little longer. Make a vacation of it.
Erik doesn’t want to answer Charles. Charles knows damn well why Erik doesn’t want to go. He wants to be here, at home, in New York, with their family. He doesn’t want to be out in the desert working all day. No matter what Charles says, two weeks in Arizona getting another school up and running would be a vacation in about the same way that Erik is retired: in name only. He doesn’t have to say or think any of this. Charles knows.
But he isn’t exactly giving Charles the silent treatment when he suddenly remembers that Libby’s seventh birthday is the same day that the Arizona school will be opening its doors. She’s been reminding him of it every day for the last month, and it’s still two months away. She’s the youngest of Penny’s children, but Libby is the only girl, and she’s the spitting image of Penny when she was that age. If Charles is going to make him choose between the desert in August and his granddaughter’s birthday party, it’s not even worth discussing. He’s having birthday cake.
Charles pats him on the leg and sighs. “We can talk about who’s going to Arizona later,” he says to the room. “There are other matters to discuss that are far more pressing.”
These staff meetings usually last an hour or two, but they make their way through the day’s agenda in less than forty-five minutes. Erik doesn’t speak much, and they all seem to notice it, because there are more than a few comments of “Isn’t that right, Headmaster?” And, “What do you think, Headmaster?” He agrees with everyone when he’s called upon – not because he actually does agree, necessarily, but his mind is elsewhere, and he’s confident that they all know what they’re doing by now. He’s been running this school for more than thirty-five years; whatever it is they’re talking about, he doubts it’s anything he hasn’t heard before.
Finally he hears Charles say, “All right, I suppose that’s everything. Meeting adjourned.”
Erik begins to get up, but Charles puts a hand on his wrist. “Stay here a moment,” Charles says, and Erik sits back down.
When everyone else has filtered out of the room, Charles takes Erik’s hand in his.
“Is everything all right?” Erik asks.
“I was about to ask you the same question.” Charles looks at him searchingly. “You seem upset. You barely had a word to say, not even when we were talking about abilities training. Is this about Arizona?”
Erik sighs. “No, it’s not about Arizona.”
“But there is something on your mind. You’ve been grumpy all day.” He smirks. “Grumpier than usual, I mean.”
Erik lifts Charles’ hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “It’s nothing at all. It’s just.” He feels silly even saying it, but this is Charles. There’s nothing he can’t tell Charles, and anyway this is nothing Charles doesn’t already know. “Today is the day that I visited. When we switched – when Magneto and I switched. I suppose I’m just a little distracted thinking about it is all.”
“Oh, my love,” Charles says, bringing his hand to Erik’s cheek. “And how did that world compare to this one?”
“It doesn’t.”