Memories

Chapter Fourteen

Charles had Hank design a nonmetallic defense system, worried about the consequences if Erik found out about the twins. Erik wasn't of sound mind anymore, and the twins couldn't be exposed to his corrupted thoughts and actions. Erik would just get his children to hate humans as well, having them join his cause.

He didn't tell the others of the twins' heritage- he didn't see a need to tell them. Charles prayed no one else would ever realize it- the twins needed to carve out their own paths. Charles worried the children would feel pressured into following in their father's twisted footsteps if they knew.

Charles was reading to the children today- they had come to love Charles reading to them. It was an old fairytale about a couple who fought so hard for each other that they lost themselves in the process. They'd sacrificed their own views for the other's, only to find that they weren't themselves anymore. They had to let each other go.

The children were sad, and Charles reminded them that they had picked out the story, not Charles. "Why do you have such a sad book in your library?" Wanda asked in her childish voice, her voice wavering with emotion. She sat in Jean's lap, who pulled her close to comfort her. Charles bit his lip, trying to think of a good answer.

"Well, darling, I suppose it's because that books are supposed to bring out a feeling in you, an emotion, and sad books do it best of all. Plus, sad books remind me every day to live life to the fullest and give as much love as I can," Charles replied finally, speaking earnestly.

He'd loved as hard as he could, but turned out it still hadn't been enough.

After that, the children ran off to play, reenacting the story, downplaying the romance a bit- thankfully. Charles smiled; it was a small, barely visible smile, but an honest one.

"Professor, thank you. For everything." Scott said- he had been watching the children with Charles, Jean and Ororo having gone off by themselves to do what young girls do, Charles supposed. Bobby had convinced Marie to play with him and the three youngest kids, surprising Charles. Marie wasn't one to socialize for too long.

"You don't have to thank me, Scott. Alex is family, and that makes you my family, too. I take care of my family, no matter what," Charles replied, smiling at the boy. Scott's eyes flashed with apprehension, biting his bottom lip nervously. Charles could tell he wanted to say something.

"Was there family before us that you lost?" Scott finally asked, and a lump formed instantly in Charles's throat. His taste buds craved a certain numbing liquid, and his heart ached. His chest tightened, and his stomach rolled. Was he really that obvious that a twelve-year-old boy could figure him out?

"Why do you ask?" Charles asked, voice tight and strained with emotion. "I-I h-have seen some p-pictures of people I don't recognize around the house. When Logan had come... I overheard you two talking," Scott stuttered out, his face conveying his guilt.

Charles cursed himself mentally; he should have expected one of the children to have been listening. "Yes, there were others in our family. They left us, though," Charles finally supplied the boy with an answer, wanting to clarify that he had never abandoned anyone; others abandoned him, though. He'd grown used to being left behind.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," Scott said finally, regret in his voice. Charles sighed. "No, you needed to know. You all deserve to know. Erik could be dangerous. He's determined, far more determined than anyone realizes. If he finds out..." Charles started, but then trailed off, realizes that he'd said too much. He couldn't know about the twins' true heritage. It wouldn't be safe.

Scott let it go, though, it seemed. "What were you to Erik? And who's the blue girl?" Scott asked instead. He must have seen the pictures of Raven and Charles when they were younger, when Raven had felt she had no reason to hide her true form.

"Erik and I were close friends, and her name was Raven. She is- was- my sister." Charles replied, swallowing hard. He wasn't about to reveal the true nature of he and Erik's relationship to a twelve-year-old.

"Why'd they leave?" Scott asked quietly, gently. He could tell it was a touchy subject with the telepath. The children were still playing, oblivious to the upsetting conversation between the adult telepath and his student.

"Different views, and I had started treating Raven horribly. I didn't understand her, and therefore I didn't even realize I was mistreating her,"'Charles said, sighing sadly.

"Why didn't you read her mind? Or convince them to agree with you?" Scott asked curiously, but Charles knew that Scott had a secret objective. He wanted to know if Charles would use his telepathy against their family. People usually don't trust telepaths.

"I would never use my telepathy like that. I only use my telepathy like that if they are posing a threat to my family or other innocent people. I don't control people. Also, Raven told me not to read her mind, and I respected her wishes," Charles informed Scott, and Scott remained silent after that, mulling over the Professor's answers. Scott left then, clearly in deep thought.

Christmas was in a few days, and the children were bursting with excitement. Charles watched them run about, now playing a new game- something about finding Santa's super secret spy elves. Charles smiled at their innocence, rolling himself into the kitchen where sugary sweet smells assaulted his nose. Sean, Ororo, and Jean were baking cookies together while Alex and Darwin stole cookie dough when the three weren't looking.

There had been nonstop baking in the kitchen for the past few weeks, the whole family preparing for Santa Claus. The children all still believed, and Sean, Hank, Alex, Darwin, Logan, Ororo, and Charles all weren't willing to tell them otherwise. Jean and Scott were beginning to have their suspicions, but no one was going to tell them what to believe.

In the orphanage, Scott had needed that hope that there was still good in the world. He must have remembered the story of Santa from his short time with his parents, and his young mind had clung to the thought of a jovial man that brought good children presents. Jean was just young and hopeful, loving the thought of a man in a red suit who was so moral.

No one was going to take away that beautiful idea on purpose.

Charles rolled himself out of the kitchen, smiling.

After dinner that night, he climbed into his bed and fell asleep, the first peaceful sleep in a long time.