Charlie('s) Hope(less)

And too confused to choose who I should be.

Charlie held Malcolm's hand as they toured the art museum, pointing out any paintings or sculptures with ties to greek mythology. At one point, Malcolm stopped walking and pointed at Gerda Wegener's "Woman with Mask" painting, sat next to her portrait of Lili Elbe. "At the Mirror" was placed above Lili Elbe's portrait, slightly to the left. Malcolm's eyes seemed to be darting between "At the Mirror" and "Woman with Mask." He pointed at the portrait of Lili Elbe, "Who's that?" He asked. "Oh! That's-" One of the parents butted in, "Einar Wegener." They said sternly. Charlie turned around to look at them, "Oh, no, that's- that's someone else. That's Lili Elbe in the painting." He kept a smile on.

"They're the same person, if you didn't know. Lili Elbe was a fake name. There was no Lili Elbe, only Einar Wegener!" The parent crossed her arms. Charlie squeezed Malcolm's hand slightly, "I think you're confused on this one... Lili was her name, she was a Danish painter. She used to be called Einar... But her name was Lili. It's what she was called up until her death and I think we should respect her name. She did a lot of great things in her life."

Charlie bit the inside of his cheek. He hated saying someone's deadname. "Chloe, honestly, there are children here! What are you filling into your sons hea-" Charlie cut him off. "It's Charles." He snapped, cutting her off. "My name is Charles..." His voice got softer as he pulled Malcolm closer to him, unconsciously crossing his arms to cover his chest.

The parent scoffed, "Come on, I can see the names of all the parents, you know. It's an obligation for the parents to be allowed to see it. And I could clearly see that your name says Chloe Hope." Malcolm hid behind Charlie's leg and piped up, "That's not his name! His name is Dad! But Daddy calls him Charlie sometimes."

Charlie froze, he did not expect Malcolm to try to defend him, or anything close to that. He saw the parent bite the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. "Unbelievable. A husband shouldn't encourage his wife to sin or encourage her hysterical delusions. He should guide her or help her, not let her mutilate her body or pump it full of chemicals... It's a miracle your little boy came out healthy!"

Charlie bit back his words, trying not to swear in front of the kids. "You don't take testosterone during pregnancy." He muttered. "So you're a drug addict? You shouldn't even be allowed to have children as is, but you take drugs?" Charlie blinked back tears, "It's not drugs, it's just hormones. It's the same as a vitamin." His voice broke.

"But vitamins are essential, hormones aren't. Vitamins are reversible, hormones aren't. Why would you do this to your body? What if you become infertile? What then? What would your husband think?" Charlie choked back a sob, "Clearly I'm not infertile, because I'm pregnant!" He shouted.

He clasped his hands over his mouth and felt Malcolm tug on the leg of his jeans. "You have a baby in you?" This wasn't how he wanted Malcolm to find out at all. Today was becoming the worst day ever. "I-- We'll talk about this later." He murmured, quietly enough so only Malcolm could hear. Charlie rubbed his eyes, wiping away any tears before they could dampen his cheeks.

Charlie saw Mr. Nelson tap the parent's shoulder and clear his throat. "That's enough, Marlene. Leave him alone." She spun around, "Huh? I..." She smiled sheepishly, "I think you misheard me a little bit? I wasn't trying to be rude I was just showing concern..." Mr. Nelson crossed his arms, "You called him a drug addict, a groomer, said he shouldn't be allowed to have kids, misgendered him, and had him disclose personal information that he might have not been ready to disclose." She opened her mouth to speak, "I- uhm.. I- err-" She stammered out sounds, struggling to form any words. "We'll talk about this later." Mr. Nelson shook his head. He leaned over to look at Malcolm, "Do you wanna come with the group? We're about to have lunch." He glanced over at the paintings, "But if you don't want to be around so many people and noises, you and Mr. Hope can sit over on that bench-" He pointed at a bench sat by a window across from the paintings. "And eat your lunch. As long as you promise not to make a mess and clean up after yourself."