Chapter Text
Over a week later, back in New York, Charles shut his office door and prepared to make a phone call. It took him that long to gather up the nerve, and, just to be sure he wouldn't find any way to avoid it, he had Penny mark the task in his schedule.
So there he sat, at precisely 3:45pm, staring at his telephone. It was a nice telephone, actually: sort of old fashioned-looking, shiny and heavy. The weight of the receiver made all of his phone calls feel terribly important - even when he was only calling Penny to ask if she wanted pizza for dinner - and prevented him from talking too long. Really, he'd probably overpaid for the phone but --
"Oh, hell," Charles muttered to himself, "Now I'm just sitting here admiring my own telephone. For godssake!" and picked up the receiver to call. "I'm being absolutely ridiculous," he told himself while it rang.
"Yes?"
"Hello, Raven," Charles said, forcing himself to smile. It's true: you can hear a smile over the telephone. "I understand congratulations are in order. I have the newspaper here in front of me, and it seems the Brotherhood of Mutants now officially has a new leader."
"Yes, the truth is out. And I suppose we are now officially enemies."
"You will never be my enemy," he said, "But that doesn't mean I won't oppose your actions." Charles expected her to respond, but she didn't. Years ago, Raven would have rolled her eyes at a line like that; he wondered if she did now.
He cleared his throat. "That wasn't entirely why I called, though." He'd prepared a speech, but now that the moment to give it had arrived, the words disintegrated on his tongue. He really should have written the speech down. Instead he fumbled, "I know that-- Hm. That night, Azazel-- I'm concerned, is all. If he's hit you... That's not-- You don't deserve to be treated that way. No one deserves to be treated that way, and I'm a piece of shit for not doing anything about it then and there. I'm ashamed of myself for not... And if he ever--"
"I've taken care of it, Charles," she said.
"You've...? What do you mean?"
"Azazel is gone."
"Gone where?"
"Charles, please. I appreciate your concern, but I've handled it."
For the second time, Charles was sure she'd say more, give him some assurance that she was truly in no further danger from Azazel, but she didn't. He spoke instead: "Well, this may be a security breach at this point, but I was serious when I said that Penny would be able to interpret any writings of his you may find. If you need her help - and only for personal issues, I won't have her inadvertently aiding Brotherhood missions - please, call me and we can work something out."
"Thank you, Charles, but that won't be necessary."
"Raven, whatever you've done, you don't know he won't be back. Nothing is certain in this world, and relationships change, and former friends have an unexpected way of reappearing in one's life, and-"
"CHARLES!" she shouted, startling him. "Do not lecture me. Do not talk down to me. I am the leader of one of the most powerful organizations in the world and have been - unofficially - for the past several years. When I say I have taken care of it, believe me when I say I have taken care of it. You may oppose my actions, but do not belittle them. Do not belittle me."
He sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. You owe me no explanation. I only want you to be safe." He drummed his fingers on the desk, again waiting for her to speak, and again he broke the silence first. "And I trust you handled that little nuclear issue as well?"
"It's been resolved."
"And no one is going to be bombed?"
"Not without my say-so."
He shouldn't have found that reassuring, but he did. "Why don't you come for Easter? I would love to see you again. I believe this year we're having lamb."
Mystique laughed. "Maybe next year, Charles," she said, and hung up the phone.
Well, Charles thought, at least he made her laugh. It was a start.
He replaced the receiver and sat back in his chair. Outside, the sun was already nearing the horizon. Charles always liked winter; he liked sweaters and fireplaces and warm drinks and lingering evenings. Since he'd gotten back from Florida, though, it seemed like the New York climate was determined to prove him wrong. The skies were perpetually gray and they hadn't had fresh snowfall in weeks, leaving dirty clumps of the stuff lingering in ugly patterns all over the property. The air was dry and the wind was harsh, and any trip outdoors left his cheeks red and raw - hardly an ideal balm for his healing sunburn. Still, he was happy to be home.
The phone rang. Charles wasn't surprised; more than likely it was Penny wanting to discuss the interviews she'd conducted in the search for a new nurse.
But actually, it was Erik.
"Hello, Charles."
"Erik! I'm glad you called. I'm sorry I had to hang up so abruptly the last time we spoke. How are you?"
"Not great, actually."
"What's wrong? Is it the children?"
Erik sighed, but with affection. "Isn't it always?" He paused. He sounded nervous. "Apparently there was an incident."
"What kind of incident?"
"Yesterday, one of the little boys in the class was teasing Wanda: calling her names, taking her toys. She got upset and sent a jolt at him - right in front of the whole class."
Charles smiled. "You don't sound all that upset about that."
"Not about that, no. The little brat deserved it, and good for her for standing up for herself. I'm upset because the principal of the school called me and told me to to come and pick them up immediately. Said they frightened the other kids and kindly informed me that Coconut Creek Elementary did not cater to that kind of student, and told me that perhaps I should consider other options, because as of yesterday afternoon, Wanda and Pietro were no longer welcome in her classrooms."
"Oh, my god. Erik, I'm so sorry."
"What kind of person says that to a five year old? Huh? Tells a little girl that she's a monster?"
"She told Wanda she was a monster?"
"Yes, can you believe that? How's that for coexisting with humans, huh, Charles?"
Charles swallowed heavily, not knowing quite what to say, except, "I'm so sorry."
"Then, later on," Erik continued, "I had a knock on my door, and it was Wanda and Pietro's kindergarten teacher, came to apologize. Said she had no idea that the principal would react that way, and she never would have told anyone but me what had happened if she'd known it would turn out like this. She said she was sorry to see them go, that they were two of her favorite students. She even helped me calm Wanda down - Wanda was still crying about the whole thing."
"Well, that was very good of her to do that."
"It was. She also offered to write a letter of recommendation and help me to get them into a new school." Erik's tone turned coy. "She suggested I try to get them into one of those special schools for children with extra abilities. She told me she'd read about a really good one up in New York, said it had a funny name - couldn't remember it offhand, but she'd look it up and mail it to me. Do you have any idea what she was talking about?"
Charles was grinning from ear to ear, and he hoped Erik could hear how happy he was. "You're in luck, my friend. The Xavier Institute happens to have two openings for kindergarten-aged children, available immediately, no letter of recommendation needed. And, if you're interested, a teaching position, ready to be filled."
"Oh, really?" Erik said with mock consideration. "What subject?"
"Pick one!" Charles laughed. "You can teach underwater basketweaving once a week for all I care, just please come. I already know I have a pair of rooms available for you - they're small, but they have a connecting door, and they'll do fine until something else opens up. Tell me you'll come, Erik."
"What about your X-Men?" Erik asked. "Are your students automatically recruited?"
"Absolutely not. Students are in no way required to join the X-Men, and besides, no student under the age of sixteen is allowed to participate in any X-Men-related activity without the written permission of a parent or guardian."
Erik paused to consider. "Make it seventeen and we'll be there in two weeks."
"Deal."
END