fic: if the moon fell down (charles/erik, g, 2000 words)
fill for a prompt on 1stclass-kink: "Charles runs a small private school at the Xavier estate. As an initiation, Raven, Alex, and Sean make new kid Hank ring the doorbell of the recluse down the road." AU. They're about 10 years old in this, with Sean around 8 or 9.
The house was creaky and ancient and stood on top of a hill behind a rusty iron fence some four feet high. It once belonged to a man named Sebastian Shaw, a war veteran with a bad leg who would, according to rumors, shoot trespassers on sight. Even kids, Alex said, patting Sean on the head as they trudged up the road that led to it, all three of them complaining about the heat. The climb had been steep, the sun baking.
Alex stood on the porch, his finger poised on the doorbell, Sean, Hank and Raven hovering a few paces behind him.
Sean had a bad feeling about this. He always had a bad feeling when it came to Alex’s harebrained schemes, but he couldn’t speak past the lump of fear in his throat. Alex’s bright idea had been to come up to the house and ring the doorbell enough times to lure out the man who lived there, see if he were as hideous as the rumors claimed.
It made sense at the time of conception when they were all sprawled on their backs in the courtyard after an afternoon of hide and seek, but now, standing there in a flock on the front porch, their knees shaking, it seemed foolish of them to even think that, crazy.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Hank said for the third time. His shirt was buttoned up to the neck and his upper lip was beading in sweat. His glasses looked clunky, overwhelming his entire face, the thick plastic frame slipping down the bridge of his nose. He tightened his grip on Sean’s hand and Sean finally found his voice.
“Hank’s right,” he agreed, nodding. “Didn’t Mr. Charles say not to wander off, Alex?”
“Cowards,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. He shook his head. “We’re not wandering off, stupid. We’re just walking around.”
“Same thing,” Raven said, poking him in the arm.
“You’re going to get us shot, Alex,” Hank said. “Don’t do it.”
“Yeah, Alex.” Sean nodded again. Hank’s hand was sweaty and Sean could tell he was just as nervous as he was. Sean was small and fast enough that, if the man decided to shoot them, he could still get away, but Hank. Hank wasn’t a fast runner and spent a lot of time indoors. He had a breathing problem. Asthma, Sean thought.
Alex puffed out his cheeks and took a deep breath. “Whatever,” he said and rang the doorbell.
Sean yelped, turning his face into Hank’s shirt. Alex hit the doorbell again and again until Raven thumped him hard on the shoulder and then harder on the head. “What the heck are you doing, Alex? Do you have a death wish or something?”
Alex glared at her, his jaw tense, like he wanted to hit back but remembered Mr. Charles telling him it was bad and that he shouldn’t do it, especially not to girls. “What? There’s no one in there,” he said and sniffed. “You’re all just scaring yourselves for no reason.”
“You’re a moron,” Raven told him, and Sean would agree except Alex was getting mad now and Sean didn’t want to get on his bad side.
Alex was about to ring the doorbell again when the door creaked slowly open.
“Run!” Raven squealed, and they did.
Alex was the first one to bolt.
=
Sean broke free of Hank’s grip.
He didn’t want to look over his shoulder, afraid of what he might find there, but then he heard Raven calling out to them, telling them to stop, so that made him pause for a split second and look. She was on her stomach on the dirt, her face pinched in a grimace.
“Wait,” she said, her voice shaky. “Don’t leave me here!”
Hank slowed down a little, looking like he wanted to save her, but then Alex grabbed his hand and scrambled swiftly out of the gate, taking Hank along with him. Sean went after them, stumbling, falling onto his hands and knees, glancing at Raven a few times, hoping she could see the fear in his eyes and wouldn’t hate him forever for his abandonment.
Raven wasn’t Sean’s favourite person in the world, but she was pretty cool for a girl and took care of Sean whenever he’d hurt himself playing with the bigger, rougher boys.
They reached the school in record time, all out of breath and trembling. Sean’s knees shook and he collapsed against the wall, gasping like a fish, his chest aching.
When Mr. Charles strolled up to them, wondering where they’d been all day, asking them if they knew where Raven was, Sean’s lower lip wobbled and he started to cry.
=
It didn’t seem right to let Mr. Charles go alone so Sean stepped up and promised to accompany him to the house despite his initial fear.
“I’ll protect you,” Sean said with a sudden surge of courage. He knew it was impossible - Alex said that since he was small he was mostly kind of useless - but he’d try, anyway, for Mr. Charles who would probably do the same had their situations been reversed. Besides, Sean wanted to save Raven too. He wanted to be a hero.
Mr. Charles smiled and bending down to his eye-level, said, “That’s very nice of you,” and then held out his hand.
And Sean took it and they began their trek uphill, towards the house, Mr. Charles picking up a large stick on the way and using it as a cane.
Maybe they could use it to defend themselves with, Sean thought, and picked up a sizeable rock from the ground, pocketing it.
=
Mr. Charles rang the doorbell three times.
Sean stood behind him, tugging gently at the back of his shirt, ready to throw the rock at any moment’s notice. The door opened a few seconds later and a remarkably tall man stepped out of the shadows and raised an eyebrow at Mr. Charles. The man had broad shoulders but a narrow waist and he wore a pair of old moccasins as slippers.
He looked menacing with his bedraggled hair hastily combed to one side.
“I believe you have a student of mine in your custody,” Mr. Charles said pleasantly, smiling.
“Yeah, where are you keeping Raven?” Sean said, lifting his chin.
The man didn’t shoot them with a handgun or say much of anything for five seconds. Finally, he shook his head, huffed out a laugh and pushed the door open behind him. “Raven,” he called out and then walked back inside.
Mr. Charles followed after him and Sean hurried along a few steps behind, keeping one eye on the door in case it closed on its own and the man decided he wanted to shoot them after all. The living room was spacious but messy and it smelled damp like the floors and walls had been soaked in rainwater and left to dry.
Raven was sitting on a stuffed arm chair, sipping tea from a chipped mug. She had a band-aid on her knee and a book in her lap and she looked entertained enough as she flipped through the pages.
“Raven!” Sean gasped. “You’re alive!”
Raven looked up, eyes wide, leaping off the chair and running towards them. She gave Mr. Charles a big hug and Sean a disappointed look. Sean felt sheepish and scuffed the toe of his shoe against the rough carpeting.
“Is she yours?” The man asked, sitting down on the bottle green sofa and moving a teapot aside. His coffee table was cluttered with books and pens and he still had one of those old timey typewriters sitting on his desk. His curtains seemed old, too, unwashed and dirty.
“My student,” Mr. Charles confirmed, looking discreetly around the place, his hands clasped behind his back.
The man made a thoughtful noise.
“Charles Xavier,” Mr. Charles said, walking up to the man and thrusting out a hand.
“Interesting name,” The man remarked. “Erik.”
“Do you have a last name to go with that?”
“Lehnsherr,” Erik said, smirking. He didn’t take Mr. Charles’ hand, not at first, but Mr. Charles stood persistently in front of him, his hand outstretched. Erik shook it perfunctorily and then climbed to his feet.
“I don’t know what it is you teach in that school of yours,” Erik said, disappearing into the kitchen with a teapot.
“Art, mostly, the appreciation thereof,” Mr. Charles said, interrupting him. He stood in front of the sagging shelf of books, fingering the dusty weatherbeaten spines. “These are all romance novels,” he said with a short laugh.
“I’m a writer,” Erik said, emerging from the other end of the room with a tray of cups. “They’re for reference purposes.” Then he made a face, furrowing his eyebrows. “Earl Grey or English Breakfast?”
“Earl Grey, please,” Mr. Charles said. Erik handed him a large black mug which Mr. Charles took gladly, pulling his sleeves up to his palms so that it buffered the heat. Mr. Charles, Sean thought, was acting oddly. He didn’t seem fazed or frightened by Erik’s proximity even though Erik was about a head taller and could probably beat him in a fight.
“Too hot?” Erik asked.
Mr. Charles shrugged.
“Your students seem to think it’s a good idea to ring my doorbell from time to time,” Erik said.
“Just Alex,” Sean piped up.
Raven nodded. “He’s stupid,” she said. “Ugh, this is why I never play with boys.”
Mr. Charles smiled slowly. “You fascinate them, you know,” he told Erik who was sipping his tea and flipping a lighter open and closed in one hand. “They seem to think you shoot children.” He winked at Sean who turned red instantly, avoiding his eyes. Sean was standing near the door just in case anything happened. He still didn’t trust Erik. Meanwhile, Raven was walking in and out of the kitchen, picking things up and putting them back down again, restless.
Erik laughed. But he had a different kind of laugh, a lower cadence. Sean felt goosebumps travel up his arms.
“Thank you for taking care of her,” Mr. Charles said when he’d finished his tea. He smiled again and put down his cup, careful not to let it touch the heaps of paper on the desk. “And thank you for not shooting us on sight, too. And for the tea, of course.”
Erik’s grin was full of teeth and he huffed again, snorting softly as he pocketed his lighter.
He ushered them out the door, shoving Raven gently on the back of her head as she toddled out. Raven whirled around and glared, sticking out her tongue at him and Erik flicked her on the tip of the nose until she leapt out of his reach, still glaring.
Mr. Charles said, “I teach at the Westchester-”
“I know,” Erik said. “Raven’s told me already.”
“Has she?”
“She said you were an old fart who wore sweater vests and had hair growing out of your ears and nose. I’m quite pleased with the discrepancy.”
Mr. Charles laughed, looking sheepish.
Sean tugged at his hand a few times, glancing longingly at the gate that led to their freedom. They were acting even stranger, he thought, which alarmed him a little bit. Mr. Charles’ face was a little pink and he seemed to be speaking in a breathy, high voice Sean had never heard him use before.
They left, shortly after Mr. Charles slipped Erik a square piece of paper, inviting him to dinner the next day.
“You invited him to dinner?” Sean hissed, hoping Erik didn’t hear him with his face turned away and his voice lowered. Raven cuffed him upside the head and demanded to know why he didn’t stick around to save her earlier.
“At least you’re alive!” Sean said, rubbing the spot she’d just hit. “And I came with Mr. Charles to rescue you!”
“He’s an interesting man, isn’t he, that Erik Lehnsherr,” Mr. Charles mused out loud. He had a wistful, silly little smile on his face and Sean remembered how he’d caught a glimpse of Erik through the window just as they were heading out. Erik was sitting with one foot propped up on the coffee table, smoking a cigarette, blowing smoke from one side of his mouth with his brows deeply furrowed. He seemed to be in deep thought.
The odd thing was, Sean thought, he seemed to be smiling a little, too.
“Weirdo,” he muttered, and then ran past Raven, challenging her to a race, walking backwards. “Last one there is a rotten egg!” he said.
He kicked up dirt as he went.