Alone no more

**Author Note:** Totally AU. I am playing fast & loose with cannon history, family background, personal timeline, ages, etc… Please just go with it.

Please see notes at ends of chapters regarding Historical info.

**Title**: Alone No More

**Pairing**: Erik/Charles

**Rating**: PG-13

**Warnings:** Mention of wartime violence and atrocities. Not graphic, but nevertheless discussed.

**Category**: AU, Friendship, Family, Fluff

**Standard Disclaimer**: I own nothing connected with X Men other than a deep affection for the movie and characters.

**Summary:** Erik and Charles each thought that they were alone. When they meet and discover otherwise, it changes their lives. Set before and during World War II.

Words in _Italic_ are foreign language or telepathic thoughts.

**PART ONE**

**England, Summer 1938**

_Be strong, Erik. You can do this._ His mother's words echoed in his mind as Erik followed the maid down the long halls of the mansion. He glanced at the portraits on the walls, all of them aristocrats, and reminded himself that England still had a King, whereas Germany had ridded itself of the Kaiser some time ago. Of course, he wondered if the Kaiser would have been preferable to what was happening now.

The maid said something he couldn't understand, and Erik had to remind himself that he was in England; no longer in Germany. It was a hard thing to remember.

They entered a door, and walked into a large playroom area that Erik guessed was the nursery of the mansion. So different from the comfortably small room that he had back home at the simple but nice home he shared with Vater and Muter. No formal area for children; Erik was welcomed everywhere in their home. Here, it was obviously different, and he didn't need to know much English to understand that.

There were several doors off the main area, one of them closed already. Erik was led to an open door and ushered into a small bedroom where he found a small but nice bedroom set waiting. He made himself take a deep breath and nod his thanks as the maid put his small valise on the stand by the closets

"_Danke_. Thank you," he said. The English was still awkward in his mouth and mind. He knew French fairly well, and some Latin of course from school, but English was very confusing. He'd been trying to study it for less than two weeks, after all. The maid nodded, and then left him alone.

Erik made himself carefully unpack, trying to keep busy. It only took a few moments thought to put his few things away, and then he hugged himself before sitting on the bed. It was all so different from his room at home. A room that he now wondered if he would ever see again.

Had it really been only two weeks?

Erik's father was a professor at university, his mother the world's most perfect Mutter. Erik knew he was loved and basked in a happy childhood that began to turn dark as things changed in his home country. Men who were so angry, and blamed others for all the bad things. His parents and their friends talked late at night, worried, and all the children in the neighborhood knew that things were wrong. It began to affect movies they could go to, who they could play with in the park.

Still, Erik had never thought it would result in him being sent away from his home.

Vater had announced they were going to visit friends who lived in the country, and Erik was excited. He loved going to farm and seeing all the animals. But after they got off the train, and began the long walk to the isolated small village, Vater had put his arm around Erik and began to speak. It had taken a while, but eventually Erik realized that he was being sent away. Mutter had a distant cousin in England, who had agreed to have Erik come live with him and his family.

It was insane, utterly ridiculous. How could he be sent away? Why? Vater explained that things were perhaps going to get much worse at home for people of their faith, and they had thought long and hard how best to protect Erik. Erik had heard of a few children going to live with relatives in France, or sent to boarding school in Switzerland, but none in England. That was simply….absurd.

It was really because of his power, wasn't it?

He really tried to control himself, but sometimes he couldn't resist moving metal. It called out to him, he could feel it every time he entered a room and was even outside and he could feel the metal in roads or nearby buildings. And if he lost his temper about something, all metal around him would start vibrating. Sometimes if he had a nightmare, he would find the iron of his bed twisted around, and he would guilty fix it before Mutter came to wake him.

Erik's father was a teacher, a man of learning and science, and he had tried to discover a reason why his son could do these things, but had never found an answer. Father and son had conducted a few small experiments at times, when Mutter was out of the house, seeing what Erik could move, and every year Erik grew stronger. He understood that this had to be kept secret just as much as their religion. Perhaps even more so.

He was truly different. A freak.

His parents hugged him and tried over and over to reassure him, but Erik knew his power was perhaps the real reason he was being sent away. He scared them, sometimes. His gentle, loving parents, who would never hurt anyone, were sometimes afraid of what he could do. He could see it in their eyes. Erik never doubted that he was loved, but he also knew that there was concern that one day he would lose the control he worked so hard for. Erik had read Frankenstein, and a little bit of Jules Verne; what would a truly mad scientist do with a power like his? He didn't really want to know.

So the next day a man arrived at the farm to guide Erik into France. He was a big boy, but wasn't ashamed of the tears in his eyes as he had to say goodbye to his parents. He was given an address of a bank in Switzerland where he could send letters, and his parents would do the same. He was to write them every week without fail.

"It is not forever, my child," Mutter whispered as she held him. "Perhaps soon this madness will be settled. Then you will come back home and never leave us again." Erik just nodded, not trusting himself to speak anymore. He picked up his backpack, and obediently followed his guide into the woods.

He didn't cry again.

A week later, Erik arrived in France, and was transferred over to care of a woman, who took him on the confusing trains until they reached the Channel. They waited a day for passage to be cleared on a ship, and then crossed over into England. Another woman met them, who guided Erik on still more trains and then finally a car. It was dark when they finally stopped, and all Erik could tell of this new place was that it was huge.

Mutter had told him as much as she knew before they left Germany. It had to all be committed to memory, and not written down. The name of her cousin's family was Xavier. She had met her distant relative only twice before, when he had visited Germany when they were children, but they had kept in touch with letters. It was he who had suggested nearly a year ago that Erik be sent to him. This branch of the family was distant enough from the common ancestor they shared that they did not practice Judaism, in fact they did not seem to practice any belief, but Xavier was well aware of the situation in Germany. He offered to take Erik in, and make sure he was educated in the best schools in England. Erik's parents had struggled for some time, trying to decide what would be best for their son.

In the end, they felt they could not pass up this opportunity. Erik's differences – religious and mental power- made it too dangerous for him to remain at home.

Erik starred around the room, lost in thought. He needed to think, he knew, to just try to calm down. To keep himself busy, he started pacing around the room, reviewing what little he knew. Xavier was some sort of business man, half English and half American. His wife was related to English aristocracy. They had one child.

Erik closed his eyes, and opened himself up to the metal of the room, cataloguing every bit. It was soothing to feel the steady hum of it all, to know he was surrounded, protected. He would master this power he had, so it could never be used against him again. He could learn to protect himself and his family with this gift. It was the only way.

"Hello?"

A soft voice spoke behind him, and Erik turned quickly, caught off-guard. A tiny child was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, clad in flannel pajamas and looking very cautious. They eyed each other for a moment, and for no specific reason, Erik suddenly felt completely at ease. He realized that this must be his young cousin, and it was confirmed a second later.

_My name is Charles._

_Erik._

_Are you my cousin from Germany?_

_Yes. I just arrived._

Charles clapped his hands. _Oh this is wonderful! I am so excited you are here. Oh dear, where are my manners? Can I get you anything? Some tea?_

_No, I am fine, thank you, though. _

_I can show you around the estate, and—_

_Wait, wait._ Erik was taken aback as he suddenly realized that they weren't talking aloud. They were hearing each other in their heads. He starred in shock, not sure at all what to think of this.

Charles immediately backed up, clenching folds of his pajamas. "I'm sorry," he stammered out loud, his eyes wide. "So sorry. I didn't mean to do that! Please, forgive me. I won't do it again!"

Erik couldn't understand much of what was being said aloud, but it was clear the child was terrified. "_Nein_, no," he said hastily. "_Gud_, it is good…ok." He took a deep breath and tried to calm down and concentrate. He took a step forward, and Charles looked nervous but didn't back away any further. _Can you still hear me this way?_

"Y-yes," Charles sniffled a little, shaking wiping his eyes with the back of one hand.

_It is alright, speak in my head. _

_Are you sure? _

_Yes, I'm sure. I don't understand enough English yet. This is better. It is wonderful, actually. I haven't been able to truly talk to someone since we left France._

_I can teach you English,_ Charles offered, eager to please. _Will you teach me German? Poppa says that many of the best scientists wrote in German, and I know I want to read them as soon as I can read in English better. _

Erik had to smile. _Yes, I will be glad to teach you. But __how__ are we doing this?_

_It's my fault._ Charles looked worried again, playing with the edge of his pajama top. _I can sometimes tell what people are thinking. But when I tell them that, I get punished for lying. _A tear started to form in the huge blue eyes. _But I'm not lying, I'm not! I would never do that._

_I know. It is alright, Charles, I believe you. You don't need to be afraid around me, and you should never be afraid to use your power._

Charles looked thoughtful, again using his hand to brush away a small tear, and he took a deep breath. _I've never been able to really talk to someone just in their head before, not a real talk, anyway. This is more than what I've ever been able to do before. Can you hear things from peoples minds too?_

_No_. Erik briefly considered what a power that would be, and decided that perhaps he would not like it after all.

_But you can do something, can't you. _Charles looked hesitant to ask, but his thoughts were certain. It was not a question.

Erik smiled again. He looked around the room, and settled on a clock sitting on a nearby desk. Making sure he had Charles's attention on it, he made the hands of the clock turn backwards. Charles's eyes widened in awe, and then he giggled and clapped in approval.

_Better turn it back or we won't know what time it is, _Charles pointed out after he'd had time to admire the display.

Erik laughed a little, but obediently moved the hands back to the correct time.

_That is amazing!_ Charles looked suitably impressed, and for the first time in nearly two weeks, Erik felt his heart lighten. Even his own parents had never thought his power was amazing. But he understood why they had regarded it with concern.

_Can you move other things?_

_Anything metal, I can try. I'm getting stronger._

_Practice, _Charles nodded in approval. _Like I practice reading, and studying._

_Well, a bit like, I suppose_

Charles giggled again, clearly delighted. Then he took a good look at the clock and frowned. _Oh dear, it's very late. You must be tired. And Nurse will be terribly cross if she finds me…if she finds __us__…out of bed. She says I already go to bed too late for my age._

_How old are you?_

_Five. Almost six. How old are you?_

_Ten. _Erik was a bit surprised, as the child looked younger to him, although granted he had not been around many small children since he himself had left kindergarten.

Blue eyes widened in respect at hearing Erik's age, and Erik felt ridiculously mature and important. He had always been very happy having Vater and Mutter to himself, but perhaps a younger brother like Charles wouldn't have been so bad. At least the child knew how to respect his elders.

_I suppose we should be getting to bed. _Except for the night waiting for the ferry in Calais, Erik had spent the past two weeks sleeping on the ground or on the uncomfortable passenger seat of a train. He admitted it would be nice to back in a real bed, even if it wasn't his from home.

_Your Poppa and Mummy aren't here, are they?_ It was a tentative question. Charles was clearly puzzled a bit, trying to understand.

_No, they are still in Germany. _

_Oh. I'm sorry. Poppa is hardly ever here, but at least he is in England. And Mummy…well, she is here. I guess. _Charles shook his head._ Wait a minute! _He dashed off, and Erik waited patiently, curious what was going on. Charles returned a minute later. He looked rather hesitant, and one hand was twisting the fabric of his pajamas nervously, but his chin was raised in determination as he held something out. _This is Tebby. You…might want him. He is very good at keeping you company. I know the nursery gets scary at night._

Erik accepted the teddy bear with grace and dignity. The large stuffed animal was a bit worn around the edges, proof of many hugs, but Tebby regarded the new boy with friendly brown eyes. _Thank you, Charles,_ Erik thought sincerely. He had outgrown the need for a nighttime companion, but he was not so far removed from that time that he did not understand and appreciate what Charles was offering. It was a very sweet gift and quite the sacrifice for Charles to offer his beloved bear. Erik would find a way to slip it back to Charles later. _Why don't you show me your room? I would like to see it._

_Alright._

Charles led Erik to the bedroom across the play area, revealing a small room very similar to Erik's. There were not many toys, but many, many books, all of them looking as loved as Tebby. _Poppa reads to me every night when he is here. I know he will read to you too. Oh, but you can read already, right?_

_In German, yes._

_I can read too, but in English, of course._

Erik grinned, and touched one of the books. _How do you say this in English?_

_I can show you, I think. _ Erik raised an eyebrow and Charles looked worried again. _I'm not certain how it works, but sometimes I can put words or ideas in people's minds. I use it to tell Cook what I would like best for tea, and she always ends up serving what I asked for. But I don't ask often; it would be impolite, I think. And I can do it only if I see her and have time to think it carefully. _He sounded very guilty.

_Charles, I don't think you are doing anything wrong at all. You need to practice your power._ Erik was feeling nearly dizzy with relief. He wasn't a freak of nature; there were others like him. And Erik knew immediately that he would perfect his power, and teach Charles as well. Erik would never lose any of his family again because of these gifts. He nearly reached out to ruffle the soft brown hair, but held his hand back a bit, and settled for a gentle squeeze on a tiny shoulder. _Can you show me the names of things in this room?_

A few minutes later, Erik knew and could speak aloud in perfect English the name of all the objects in Charles's bedroom. Even abstract words could be translated if Erik thought the word carefully, and Charles understood what it meant.

"Charles, this is incredible," Erik said aloud, thrilling at hearing himself speak English. "Tomorrow, can we—" he broke off as he turned around.

Charles was lying on his small bed, flat on his back, and eyes firmly closed. He looked so sweet that Erik had to smile. The older boy looked at the clock on Charles's nightstand, and noted that it was indeed a late hour, feeling guilty. He should have never asked Charles to show him the name of things when it was clear that Charles should be in bed.

Erik carefully tucked Charles back into his bed, not wanting to wake the child up, but Charles just sighed and snuggled into the covers as they were pulled over him, clearly out for the night. Erik placed Tebby beside him, and Charles reached out instinctively for the stuffed bear. Without really meaning to, Erik stretched out on the bed beside his cousin, pulling a blanket over himself, and Charles shifted so their bodies were touching, Tebby tucked safely between them.

Very content, and thinking that perhaps things would be alright after all, Erik fell asleep.

**TBC…..**

**Historical Note**: in the mid-to-late 1930's, some families who had the means did send their children away from Germany for their safety. It was not easy, because few countries wished to take in children without parents, but it could happen under some circumstances. I cannot begin to imagine what a difficult decision that must have been for parents who dearly loved their children and only wanted them safe.

Words in _Italic_ are telepathic thoughts or foreign language. Almost all of Erik and Charles's conversations are in their minds and not verbal.

**Historical Note**: The "Great War" is what folks called World War I in the 1930's.

**PART TWO**

"It is good that you speak English." Cool eyes regarded Erik thoughtfully without emotion.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Erik said politely.

"I thought we would perhaps have to borrow a German housekeeper from one of the other estates to translate for you, but thankfully that is not needed. I am very content with the staff we currently have and have no wish to have to try to train someone new."

"Yes, Ma'am. That is not….necessary." Erik wanted to say 'required', but Charles didn't quite understand that word and hadn't been able to translate it yet. Some of the words Charles's mother was using were beyond the vocabulary of both boys, but Erik understood the main point of her lecture.

He already disliked Charles's mother, and understood why Charles was a bit afraid of her.

She wasn't necessarily cruel, but was very demanding, cold, and obviously had no patience for anyone, especially her own son. Erik's mother would have said she was the type who should have never had children. Erik had never really understood why his mother would occasionally say such a thing about various ladies in town, but now he was in perfect agreement with her.

"You will of course, have to work on you accent. Those harsh Hessian vowels are not proper King's English. I trust Charles's tutor can correct that in time."

Erik frowned, confused, as he was pretty certain already that his accent came from Charles. But since Mrs. Xavier was already slurring her words at 12:30, he suspected her judgment on vocal matters was not reliable. Or maybe she had never stopped slurring from the night before. The decanter of wine had already been half empty when he and Charles had been ushered into her dressing room after lunch.

Erik had awoken that morning early, still confused on his time, and rather bemused to find himself in a child's bed, tucked around his young cousin. But it had felt wonderful, and he had been rather pleased, especially when he remembered what they had learned the night before.

They were not alone.

Erik hadn't realized just how many words Charles had dropped into his mind until it registered that he had been talking to the nanny for over three minutes in English. The nurse had gone into Charles's room to awaken him, apparently a bit surprised that he was not awake already. Erik had not missed the child rubbing his head when he came out for breakfast, and sensed that Charles had a headache, no doubt from their long mental conversation the night before. He had insisted that they talk aloud since then even when alone, and Charles had reluctantly agreed, although he clearly felt guilty. They had spent the morning exploring part of the mansion, Charles agreeably telling Erik the English words for all they saw, and Erik repeating them back in German for Charles to learn. Maybe there was some lingering mental contact, but so far neither had forgotten any of their new words.

Of course Erik suspected that on Charles's part, it was just plain intense intelligence and memorization. Those little eyes and ears didn't miss a thing. And he had not been able to resist projecting some trepidation when they had been summoned to their meeting with Charles's mother.

"Of course, Ma'am," Erik responded, drawing himself back to the present. He already knew that making a point of his accent or anything else was lost on Mrs. Xavier. He made himself give her a slight bow, as he had seen his Father do to ladies, outwardly acting like a proper little Continental gentleman. But he was already thinking of how he could smuggle a snake into her dressing room. Then he decided no; it might be cruel to the snake. He would have to give this more thought.

"Umm." Cool eyes swept over to Charles who was standing nervously beside Erik. "Charles!"

"Yes, Mummy?"

"Stand up straight. You still slouch so."

"Yes, Mummy." Charles was clearly forlorn, and it was just as clearly lost on the lady.

"Very well." Mrs. Xavier made a gesture with her hand, turning her attention back to her maid, and they were dismissed.

Charles looked embarrassed as they left the suite. "We likely won't have to see her for a few days," he offered in apology. "She has quite a big party at her friends tonight, and probably won't be awake early enough tomorrow for the morning meeting. She will just wait till the next day instead."

Erik stopped and frowned down at his cousin. "You see your mother only once a day? At a planned meeting?"

Charles bit his lip, clearly thinking. "Well, sometimes twice. If we have guests who want to see me, she will have me come down during tea, and recite some of my lessons."

_Mein Gott_, like a trained circus pony, Erik thought.

Charles clearly picked up on that. "You've been to a circus? A real one?" His expression brightened. "Will you tell me about it?"

"Stay out of my head, _liebchen_," Erik said, but with a smile. "Yes, I will tell you all about it. But we have to talk aloud, you still have a headache. You didn't tell me that would happen when you put words into my mind."

"I never had one this bad before," Charles protested, looking guilty again. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I should be. You won't strain yourself like that again, Charles, do you understand?"

"Alright, Erik. Whatever you say." Charles was truly the most agreeable and trusting child Erik had ever met. And Erik was already fiercely protective of him.

Charles led them to his favorite corner of the library, a quiet, peaceful place far removed from the rest of the estate. Curling up on the wide padded window seat, Erik told Charles about the circus, and stories about the animals and performers until the younger child had fallen asleep for his afternoon nap, his head on Erik's lap. Erik just smiled and wrapped his arms around the small body, feeling very content.

_Not alone. Not anymore._

Brian Xavier, Charles's father, arrived a few weeks later and Erik finally understood where Charles had inherited his warmth and love from. It certainly had not come from his mother. But Charles's father was very kind and friendly, and for Erik it was almost like having his Vater back.

It was mid-summer, and arrangements were made for Erik to start at a nearby boarding school when the fall term began. He disliked the idea of leaving Charles behind, and Charles had looked briefly panicked as well, but to their surprise, Mr. Xavier announced that Charles had been accepted into the youngest grade at the school as well, nearly a full year ahead of age, so both boys would be leaving. A chauffer would drive them in on Monday mornings, and return them to the mansion Fridays for weekends at home. Charles had been so excited at finally starting school that Erik groaned at his naïve eagerness, trying to explain to Charles (without scaring him, of course), that school was not the joy Charles had in his imagination. Charles just wrinkled his nose, and protested that learning was always a joy, and thus how could school be anything other than perfect?

The boys explored the entire estate, Erik surprised at how few times Charles had ever ventured out. He was beginning to understand that Charles was an extremely isolated child, and he made it his goal to help his little cousin. Charles had always preferred staying inside rather than going to the village, partially because he was afraid of reading minds. But with Erik beside him, he felt more confident, and was even learning how to "block" some things.

Outside, with no one to hear or see them, the boys practiced their strange gifts. Charles was nervous at first, but he finally agreed that it was better to learn how control their powers, rather than not know. Erik smuggled out a few pieces of random metal and would work on his control, discovering that sometimes fine movements were just as hard as moving something heavy. It took patience and concentration, things he sometimes lacked. Charles, meanwhile, would work on concealing the thoughts of others, his mind craving privacy.

School started, and Erik's weekly letters to his parents were filled with details. He was relieved that so far the mail had not been interrupted, and the letters from his patents stayed close beside him to be read over and over again. He was learning to understand some of the deeper meanings and hints his parents wrote, and kept his replies very careful, knowing it was possible the letters could be read by others. His parents hadn't done anything wrong, but just being Jewish was enough to attract unwanted government attention. Erik diligently read all the newspapers he could, trying to know what was happening every moment. The news grew steadily worse throughout the long winter.

Thanks to Charles and his own studying, Erik was nearly fluent now in English, and even had a bit of a proper accent. Because he was older, athletically inclined, and simply tough, Erik had few problems settling in at school, even as the new boy. It was more difficult for Charles.

He had so seldom seen his parents that being away from the estate was not much of a hardship. But he was younger and physically smaller than the other students even in his own grade, and was by far the smartest child in class, so he was subject to much teasing at first. Erik quickly took care of that, letting it be known that he considered his little cousin to be his little brother, and anyone who upset Charles had to deal with him. A few carefully placed threats, a couple brief physical altercations to back up his comments, and Charles soon had school-wide protected status. But in reality, it was likely Charles's own personality that eased his way. It was impossible to not like the child.

Tebby the teddy bear had been left at the estate, and the first few nights away at school were hard for Charles. He had called out to Erik in his mind, pulling his cousin beside him, and Erik held him mentally, soothing away fears and bad dreams. Charles proved to be resilient, and once he felt safer, knowing that Erik was with him all the time, he quickly adapted.

They bunked in different dorms because of their age difference, but physical distance really meant little to them anymore. Countless times during the day one reached out to the other, and felt a reassuring, calming presence whenever needed, and at night Erik wrapped himself around Charles mentally, guarding his sleep. Charles admitted once that Erik's presence at night was "just like Tebby", and Erik knew when he had been complimented.

Despite himself, Erik began to enjoy his new life. Having Charles helped. No one seemed to know that he was Jewish, and he kept the matter private, especially as news grew worse from the Continent. As far as others were concerned, he was simply "Xavier's cousin", and people assumed whatever they liked. He didn't encourage anything other than his privacy. For Hanukkah, Charles quietly gave him a small gift, and he was touched that the child had even known of the holiday. Charles didn't say anything, just squeezed Erik's hand and kept him company as in his mind, Erik replayed the entire lighting of the candles the year before. It was the closest he could come now to celebrating, and he was content.

Christmas was spent at the estate in peace, Charles's mother and father busy with parties in the London. The boys relaxed and played in the snow, Erik showing Charles how to build a snow fort, and continuing to be amazed at how such an intelligent child could also know so little about practical things. But Charles always had such a good humor and joy in anything he learned from Erik, so the older boy was glad to show him all he knew.

When they returned to classes after the New Year, Charles promptly came down with the Chicken Pox that was making rounds of the schools. The House Matron in charge of the children Charles's age had her hands full, and Erik persuaded her to let Charles move into Erik's room for the quarantine period since the older boy had had the illness when he was a baby, and Erik's roommate was still at home for several more weeks. Charles's case was fortunately mild, but it was still enough to make even Charles grumpy.

_Don't scratch, liebchen_, Erik admonished.

_It itches._

_I know. Here, have some more water. I want you to drink the entire pitcher while I am at classes today._

_Alright, Erik. I'll try. _Charles shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable_. How much longer do I have to stay in bed? I'm missing classes._

_At least three days after all the hives are gone. And don't worry about classes; your teachers sent you the homework and besides, you are far ahead in all the textbooks._

_Can you leave some of your books out? I want to read them._

Erik chuckled as be obligingly found several of the books they were reading in literature._ Are you going to read all day?_

_Nothing else to do, and besides, I like it._

_True. Here, I have a surprise for you. _Erik picked up a box that had arrived in the post overnight.

_What is it? _Charles looked excited as he happily began tearing open the package.

_Someone who wanted to visit you._

Charles gasped as he pulled the wrapping inside the box aside._ Tebby! Did you get Nurse to send him?_

Erik nodded._ I figured you could use the company._

Charles grinned as he hugged the bear. _I know I'll be too old for you in a few more years, but I will always love you,_ he assured Tebby. The bear looked relieved at the vow of devotion. _Thank you, Erik._

_You're welcome. Now get settled and if you're going to read my books, then plan to help me with my homework tonight._

By Spring, Erik was able to move a car with his powers. It quietly moved all the way out of garage and then turned around before backing in. The chauffer was sure to be puzzled beyond words when he found the car parked the opposite way he thought he had left it. Charles was jumping up and down behind him in excitement, biting his fingernails to keep from shrieking. Only after they had ran out of the garage and were back in a safe hiding spot in the woods did they whoop in joy. Erik felt like he could take on just about anything now.

Charles in turn was learning how to control his reading and projections. He still got headaches from time to time, but they were decreasing and he could keep himself in check and not slip up around people too often. He sometimes had difficulty telling when someone had said something aloud, and when they had merely thought it, but bit by bit, he got better. Concentrating on people's lips helped. Erik knew all the words that Charles's mother had thought around him – _strange, different, odd, disturbing_, and every time she looked at her son and Charles felt the flood of words, Erik wanted to growl. How anyone could look at Charles and see anything other than love was beyond Erik's ability to comprehend.

They finished the school year with each of them at the head of their respective class. Charles's parents were naturally too busy to attend the final day ceremonies, and the chauffer helped them carry their awards and belongings to the car.

It was good to be back at the estate, even though it meant a return to the morning meetings with Charles's mother. But fortunately there was quite a summer party season, and she was gone more days than not. If they had to present themselves for inspection just three or four times a week, it was bearable.

The news from the Continent grew worse, and children even younger than Charles began to understand words like war, appeasement, and aggression. British troops had even been stationed in the nearby village, and several of the teachers at school resigned in order to enlist. Charles worried over the papers as much as Erik did, reading them carefully. In July, three weeks passed before Erik received a letter from his parents, and he knew that he could no longer expect them often- if ever. It was just a short note, so very careful in what it said and didn't say. Erik put it quietly into the box where he stored all the letters, and then used his powers to seal the lock, keeping it safe. Locking away part of himself.

_Erik?_

Erik looked up to see Charles in the doorway, nervously shifting. _I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but you asked me to come get you when it was 4:00. Mummy expects us for tea with her guests at 5:00._

Ah, yes, command performance today. Erik smiled and gestured for Charles to come in, and the younger boy quickly climbed up on the bed. _It's alright. We need to get washed up._

Charles was still regarding the box solemnly._ You might get more letters, _he thought optimistically.

_I might. _Erik doubted it, but he didn't have the heart to tell a six-year old, even one as intelligent as Charles, what he felt the future held.

_Why do people make war?_

_Because they are weak. _Charles looked a bit surprised at Erik's thought_. And they attack what they do not understand out of fear for anything different._

_People fight because they are different?_

_That is how it has always been. And how it always will be. _Erik gently brushed back some of the wavy hair from Charles's face. _ We are different, Charles, and that is why we must grow stronger, and be able to protect ourselves._

Charles looked determined, and it was an oddly fierce expression on his small face._ I will never let anyone hurt you, Erik._

_And I will protect you, _Erik promised.

School was scheduled to start the first week of September, and after mid-August packing began. Charles was so excited about school that it was a surprise when Erik received a blast of fear from Charles's mind one afternoon. Erik raced in from outside and ran up to the playroom where he found his cousin huddled on the floor.

_What is wrong, liebchen? _Erik sat beside him on the ground, hurriedly scanning Charles for any injuries. He seemed unhurt, but something had obviously happened to scare him.

_I don't think we need to pack for school,_ Charles whispered, his mental voice faint.

_What? Why not?_

Charles looked up at him, tears in his blue eyes. _I didn't mean to, but I listened to that army fellow from the village when he came to talk with the staff just now. There were all sorts of horrible images in his head. Tanks, airplanes, bombs. He was thinking about things he's heard from the Army Office in London._

Erik nodded, briefly closing his eyes. _War_. He pulled Charles into a hug as the younger boy continued to shake.

_He didn't say so aloud, but he really expects war to start soon. He told the servants that if "things happen", then there will have to be a lot of changes around the village and the estate. _Charles shuddered against him and Erik patted his back, starring to rock him gently. _ I didn't mean to read his mind, but the things he was thinking and seeing were just so strong! He saw people __die__, Erik, in the Great War. He saw people die!_

Erik felt a chill cross his body and he held Charles tighter, a sickening realization of what was coming next_._

_I saw them die, _Charles sobbed_. I didn't want to, but it was as if I was there! And he had to kill men, and it was as if it were me pulling the trigger on the guns!_

_Mein Gott. _Charles had experienced everything that army chap had gone through. Six years old, and he knew exactly what it was like to kill or be killed. Erik had read many accounts of the Great War, all of them horrific. He had carefully kept those history lessons away from Charles. But now Charles had experienced it in a way as if he had been right on the battlefield.

_Blood_, Charles whispered. _So much of it, everywhere._

Charles was shaking even more now and Erik worried that he could be going into shock. He picked up the child and quickly went into his bedroom. Still holding Charles against him with one hand and arm, Erik pushed back the covers of the bed and then laid them down, quickly wrapping the blankets back over them. He wound his arms and legs around Charles, holding him fiercely, warming him with his body heat.

Charles continued to cry, his tears hot, and Erik felt his own heart tear at the sound. He made a decision, and pulled back just enough so he and Charles could look at each other.

_Charles, liebchen. Look at me._ Charles sniffed, but obeyed. Erik managed a small smile and cupped Charles's face with his hands, looking at him steadily. _I want you to give it to me._

The younger boy blinked in surprise. _ No, Erik._

_Charles, send all of the memory to me now, and I will hold it._

_But—_

_Shhhh. It's alright. We've practiced this before. Just listen to me; I'll guide you through it. _

Erik began gently running his thumbs over Charles's cheeks, brushing away some tears, and lightly rubbing his temples. It had helped Charles to concentrate in the past.

_Listen to me, liebchen. Everything you saw, all of those memories; put everything into a box, all of it right now. Gather everything up, every sight, every sound, every emotion. The box is right here. Put all of it inside._

They had only done this a few times before, but Erik knew it could be done. Charles could put thoughts or memories into minds, such as when he had essentially put an English dictionary into Erik's mind. The trick now was that Erik wanted Charles to forget those memories once they were passed on. Erik just needed to tell him what to do.

Charles's eyes took on a distant look, and Erik smiled._ Yes, that's right. Keep gathering it all up, put each event you saw inside the box. _Erik could see the box now also, and he kept sending his encouragement and thoughts. _Close the lid now. I am the only one who can open the box. You don't know anything that is inside it anymore, it is all gone for you. _He waited until the box closed, still soothing and talking Charles though the process._ Now send it to me. Let me take it from you. _Erik felt the box settle into his mind_. Alright, that's it, Charles. It is all done, and everything is alright now._

Charles sagged in relief as the memories left him, and Erik continued to hold him tightly._ Go to sleep, Charles. Take a nap. I will stay with you. _Charles nodded briefly, his eyes closing firmly.

He waited a long time, just holding Charles, studying the pattern of sunlight on the wall. When he was certain Charles was fast asleep, Erik steadied himself, closed his eyes, and opened the box.

When Erik reopened his eyes an hour later, there was a hardness to them that hadn't been there before.

This was what Man did to Man. What would they do anyone truly different?

Charles didn't remember anything specific when he woke up, just knowledge that the adults were all certain war would start soon. He and Erik had to be careful to not say anything, to not let on what they had learned, but both were good at hiding things.

Less than two weeks later, the war began.

**England, September 1939**

Erik and Charles sat by the large radio in the living room, listening with the adults of the house to the Prime Minister's latest speech. The King had spoken the day before, and while his words were inspiring, they had also been clear that dangers lay ahead. Charles was nervously toying with the edge of his sweater, but for once his mother didn't snap at him. Erik felt the intensity of the room, and had to concentrate on not destroying the radio or other metal in the room.

After the speeches were over, there was a brief news broadcast, including the gathering points for troops, sighting of enemy planes and forces, and the latest blackout and rationing orders. When the program was over, Mr. Xavier sent the servants back to work, while Mrs. Xavier floated back up to her rooms, taking the decanter of wine with her. Brian Xavier looked at the boys carefully as they stood.

"Erik, may I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course, Sir."

"Charles, if you could please run along to the nursery, Erik will join you there soon. Cook will bring up dinner in a while."

"Yes, Father." Charles left them, and Erik followed Mr. Xavier into his study.

Brian's eyes were kind as he gestured for Erik to take a chair. "I am very sorry, Erik. I know this must be difficult for you." Erik managed a stiff nod. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone except Charles, but would always make an exception for Mr. Xavier. "We've known for quite some time that this might happen. Even when you first came last summer, your parents and I knew this could be a possibility, and we made provisions."

Xavier reached for small bundle of papers, and handed them to Erik. The boy looked at them curiously. A passport was on top, and frowning a little, he opened it.

Erik Lehnsheer Xavier. Citizen of Great Britain.

He looked up at Brian; the man gestured to the next paper, and Erik studied it. He was officially now the legally adopted son of Brian Xavier.

Brian cleared his throat. "You are a son to me, Erik, I want you to know that. And Charles has believed you are his brother from the first day. I don't mean to take the place of your parents – no one can do that – but for your own safety now, this is for the best."

"I understand," Erik nodded slowly, knowing it was the new reality. "I have not been Jewish since I arrived in England, and I have not been German, either." There had been a few difficult moments at school when other boys realized that Erik was German, but Erik had stayed aloof from it most of the time. He didn't know what he was anymore, other than himself.

Xavier seemed to release a sigh of relief as Erik accepted all this so calmly. "There is more," he said quietly. "My company is transferring most of our business and manufacturing to the States. There is more industry there, and resources here shall need to be concentrated for the war effort. We shall be moving in a few months. I will see you to all settled in New York, and then I will likely return here for a bit. I would appreciate if, Erik, if you would look after our family for me. I have no idea when I shall rejoin you."

Our family.

Erik felt his chest tighten a little in emotion. "Charles is a brother to me, Sir," he murmured. "I will take care of him…and Mrs. Xavier." As much as that thought was a tad distasteful, she was still Charles's mother. Erik treated her with respect for that reason alone, and he did honestly respect Mr. Xavier. He would not fail in this responsibility.

"Thank you." Xavier clasped Erik's shoulder, and Erik managed a small smile.

Erik stood by the small bed, studying the child sleeping within. Charles frowned as he dreamed, and Erik was fairly certain it wasn't a dream of his new brother's making. It was really for the best that they were leaving England. Charles couldn't control his powers all the time, and Erik was afraid he would pick up on the terror and death that was sure to come. Almost daily now, Charles accidentally heard someone's thoughts, their strong emotions as the war began overshadowing everything else. It wasn't always too bad, but accidental "readings" from anyone who had seen the Great War first-hand or other traumatic events were terrifying for Charles. There were even a few immigrants who had seen things more recently, and those images made Erik pause.

As he did every night, Erik crawled into bed and gathered Charles carefully. His hands cupped the small face, coaxing.

_What did you see today, Charles?_

Every night, Erik curled around Charles and had the younger boy send him all that he had seen that frightened him. Once Erik had the memory, it was released from Charles and the boy could sleep peacefully, never remembering it the next day. Charles knew that he was giving memories to Erik, but he never asked what they were about. He understood more than he wanted to know.

Erik absorbed all the information from every memory, intellectual and physical. He practiced at night in the gym, and his body knew fighting moves now as well as any warrior. He knew how countless weapons worked, and was confident he could fire them with accuracy. A couple of times he had been allowed to take out one of the hunting rifles, and had proved himself a deadly shot. He understood battle tactics both from books and from real life. He knew what Man did to Man, and how to end their life.

Everything Erik took from Charles he put into the box, and kept it safe. It made him stronger.

**TBC…..**

**PART THREE**

**The North Atlantic, January 1940.**

Charles looked down the ocean waters curiously, leaning a bit far over the railing for Erik's liking. He adjusted the metal rails, making sure they supported Charles safely, and would not collapse.

_This is the same area where the Titanic went down. _Charles was fascinated with the history and science on their trip.

_Oh, that is reassuring,_ Erik thought dryly, glancing around the endless ocean.

Charles gave him an amused look. _It's just an observation. Wouldn't it be fascinating to know where the ship is?_

_Why? So people could disturb it? _Erik shuddered a little at the thought of the deep water._ Let her rest in peace._

_You don't like the open ocean, do you?_

Erik didn't like the water at all. There wasn't enough metal in it for him to anchor onto. _It's not my favorite, no,_ he admitted. He pulled Charles off the rails, and they resumed their walk around the deck. _What are you most looking forward to in the States?_

_Um…I think just seeing the house. I mean, I was born there, but I don't remember anything about it. I wonder if it will be like home in England._

Erik thought of Mrs. Xavier, cold and removed wherever she was. And Erik would be beside Charles no matter what. Some things were consistent. _I think it will be rather different from England, but it will also be an adventure. _Charles hummed in happy agreement.

An older man and his wife strolled by them, and Erik remembered seeing the man at dinner the night before, wearing his military uniform. Erik and Charles were still considered too young to take meals with adults, of course, but they had been allowed a peek into the dinning room for the Captain's ball, and had admired the adults in their finery. The retired military gentleman had been quite kind, and even visited with Erik for a few minutes.

Charles flinched a bit, and Erik guided them to a stairway. He didn't need to say anything, and Charles shared with his brother the memories he had gained without question, letting them loose from his young mind. Once Erik had them safely stored in the box, he took them back to their stateroom.

While Charles napped, Erik sought out the officer, and asked a few questions about tactics on the Russian front.

**New York, Fall 1940**

The boarding school took boys from ages six to twelve, so they were able to stay together for a while longer. Next year Erik would need to go onto the secondary schools, and their five-year age difference would separate them for the first time. But for now, they were still together. They continued to go back to the mansion on weekends, and practiced their powers.

It was November when the Headmaster summoned Erik to his office. A few murmured condolences, a vague explanation, the war, you understand, news blackout, the school Chaplin offering his services. Erik accepted the offer to have Charles come to the office, and declined the Chaplin's assistance. He would handle this by himself. The metal of the office was adequate for his needs, and he rattled everything about before settling it back into place. He needed to get out his anger before Charles arrived.

Charles was ushered in, very confused at being pulled out of class, and Erik just let him see the news quietly. _There was an accident at a factory in England. Father was there._ Charles was very brave about it. Erik took the memories of pain and death, but Charles was still very solemn for a seven year old.

_Father loved you very much, Charles, _Erik assured him. Charles just nodded sadly. _Let's go pack our bags. There is a car waiting to take us to the mansion._

In the car, Erik held Charles while he finally cried. It was the only time Charles cried.

Mrs. Xavier was more interested in the liquor than in the legal papers. Fortunately, Erik was very interested in them, and Brian Xavier had been quite careful and through in his will. Erik approved of the guardians appointed to the trust and the board. They would take care of things well enough for six years until Erik turned eighteen and could start to take control himself.

**New York, December 1941**

So much was like a reply from two years preciously. They sat and listened to the radio as the President of the United States urged Congress to formally declare war. The States had finally entered the world war.

Erik twirled the metal chess piece in his hand, listening to the speeches. At eight years of age, Charles was still enough of a child to think that fighting the Emperor sounded a bit glorious, but Erik had enough memories to be more prudent. He had been very careful in making sure that Charles forgot most things after they were given to Erik, still protecting his brother, and keeping his innocence intact. He stroked Charles's hair while the younger boy stretched out the couch, his head in Erik's lap, while Erik listened to the news reporters for hours.

When the radio station finally shut down for the night, Erik sighed, thinking about how much things would change. This time the family could not flee across an ocean, and it seemed that war might come right to the shores of North America. He would have to make certain that Charles increased his shielding practice so he would not be bombarded with things.

_Erik?_

Erik smiled down as Charles rolled over so he was facing him. _I thought you were asleep, leibchen._

_Um, I was. Got to thinking._ Blue eyes regarded Erik thoughtfully. _It's good, isn't it, that the States has entered the war? Now there is a better chance that the Axis powers will be beaten._

_It is a much better chance,_ Erik agreed. He didn't want to imagine an entire world ruled by those madmen. No one should have that much power.

_And maybe we can find out about your parents?_ It was a tentative question, Charles not wanting to ask something he shouldn't. He knew Erik didn't allow himself to think much about what might be happening now.

Erik hugged his brother. _I hope so, yes. But even with the Allied strength increased, I think this will be a long war, Charles._ He hadn't received a letter from his parents since they had left England, but it was what he had expected. The rumors of events on the Continent were so frightening; Erik prayed none of them were true. But he knew it was likely a foolish hope.

Charles carefully entered Erik's mind, bringing forward some of the happier memories of Erik and his parents that Erik had shown him before, reminding him of better times. Erik smiled, and added Charles to the mental picture of his family. He knew Vater and Mutter would have loved Charles as much as he did.

Charles's eyes were closed again, and Erik debated moving them. Finally he grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, and turned just enough so he could lay down, and hold Charles to him. He made sure the volume on the radio was turned up so when they resumed newscasts it would wake him, and then settled back.

**New York, Fall 1942**

_What do you think? _ Erik turned around, showing off his new football uniform. Charles, sitting on Erik's bed at home, considered his brother carefully.

_I don't understand why they call it football, when it is not really football. And I maintain that I saw something very suspicious at team tryouts._

_Are you suggesting that I cheated? _Erik looked indigent at the notion.

_I'm suggesting that some of those touchdown passes you scored were physically questionable._ Charles picked a football up off Erik's bed and eyed it suspiciously, turning it over in his hands. _ I still think—_

Erik snatched the ball out of his hands. _Charles, you are NOT going to dissect another football to see if there is metal in it that I'm controlling. I am a gentleman; I do not cheat at sport. Or at cards or exams. That is simply wrong._

_But everything else is open?_

The football bounced off a Charles's head as Erik gently lobbed it at him. It was followed by his body as Erik tacked his brother on the bed. They rolled around for a moment, play wrestling and laughing_. You're being very annoying today, brat._

_I'm you're little brother. I think I'm supposed to be a brat._

_Not around me, you don't. _ Erik's fingers found the nearest ticklish spot and began to dance over the skin.

"Erik!" Charles squealed. _Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I was just teasing you. _

_Ummm….that didn't sound very sincere._

Charles squirmed, twisting and fighting, but he was laughing so hard it accomplished nothing. _You would never cheat, _Charles gushed, trying to placate his brother._ You are wonderful, and honest, caring, and—Hey, don't mess with my hair!_

_I'm still not hearing something very heartfelt._

_From the bottom of my heart, you fully deserve to be the youngest quarterback on the team. You are a magnificent athletic god. I will be at every game, holding your helmet, handing out towels, and sing your praises to every girl in the stands!_ Charles pleaded.

Erik finally relented and rolled off his brother, and Charles swatted him before scrambling off the bed. Charles laughed as he picked up the football that had fallen on the ground, and then froze, a look of shock on his face.

_Erik, look!_ He pointed out the windows.

_What?_ Erik sat up, looking frantically out the windows, wondering what could be wrong.

He heard a scampering of feet as Charles took off running, and a laugh of delight in his mind.

"Why you little—" Erik leaped off the bed, but Charles was surprisingly fast. He made it to his bedroom across the hall with the football safely in his hands, and slammed the door in his brother's face. Erik was left standing in the hall with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

_Charles! Give me that back!_ Erik rattled the doorknob, but it was latched. He reached out with his powers, and paused as he realized he was feeling absolutely nothing from the handle. He looked down, and saw that the normal metal knob and lock of Charles's door had been cleverly replaced with one made of wood.

"Charles! Open the door!" Erik hollered. There was no movement from the bedroom. _Open the door or I will ground you for a month and take away all your books._

He wouldn't of course, and the Hell of it was that Charles knew it. The only response to his threat was verbal and mental giggling.

Erik pondered his dilemma. He could try the metal door hinges, and of course he could always try for brute force kicking the door in, but that was not the point.

The point was, he had been beaten. Tricked not once but twice in the span of 5 seconds by his little brother.

_Alright, you win_. Erik banged his head against the door. _But you will change back your lock by tonight or there will be Hell to pay. _He didn't know what exactly, but he would think of something. This wasn't an idle threat, and Charles knew that as well. Erik would not tolerate anything that blocked his access to Charles.

There was agreement from the other side of the door, and continued laughter. Erik could almost hear Charles getting ready to dissect his prize.

Erik regained what dignity he had left, and stalked back to his room. _You owe me a new football!_

**Maine, Summer 1943**

_Erik, do you like kissing girls?_

Erik tried to not spit out his coffee. The breakfast table was not the place he had ever imagined having this conversation.

_What?_

_Do you like it?_ Charles repeated, wrinkling his nose a bit.

Erik put down his glass and frowned at his brother. _Yes_, he admitted cautiously.

_Nice, isn't it?_

_How would you know?_

_I'm ten, Erik,_ Charles said mildly. _If a girl has tried to steal a kiss, well, it wouldn't be that insane, would it?_

_And just where did you and this young lady meet?_ Erik assumed it couldn't have been at school, as Charles's all-male boarding school was quite strict. If they had gotten lax, Erik would need to check into transferring Charles to another place. Preferably on a remote island.

_We're on vacation, Erik, at a resort with other families._ Charles gestured to the lake area around them. _Girls everywhere. As you should know. I saw you and that young lady yesterday by the boat cabin._

_That's different._ Erik didn't like the idea of a girl forcing herself on his little brother.

_Now you are being ridiculous. I was a gentleman, and she was a lady._

_Well, that's good then._ The thought of 10-year olds kissing made Erik vaguely ill, but Charles had obviously brought up this topic for a reason. _Why are we talking about this?_

Charles played with his glass of milk. _Her older brother just enlisted, and apparently he has been kissing a lot of girls. Something about how he won't likely have much of a chance for much of that once he's in the army. She wanted to see what kissing was like._

_Um, well, I suppose I can understand that._

_You're not going to enlist, are you Erik? _Worried blue eyes looked at the teenager.

Erik touched Charles's hand. _ I'm still too young, leibchen. Three more years._

_Tammy's brother is just 17, _Charles argued._ You could go in two years. Maybe less. Bradley Johnston says his cousin is just 16 and that he's in the army._

_I know Bradley's brother, and the entire family exaggerates. _Erik patted his hand again._ You can enlist at 17 years of age only with parental consent. _And while he doubted Mrs. Xavier would care, he had no intention of leaving Charles. _I won't leave you early, Charles. If the war is still going on, I will enlist when I am 18. But it's unlikely the government and company board will let me see battle. I would be more useful in the States working as a liaison between the company and the military. We have a number of military contracts at factories that I would supervise. Besides, they want me to go to college right after high school. _Harvard, he supposed. Or Yale. He didn't really care.

Charles looked happier at this news._ Good_. He regarded his brother thoughtfully. _Harvard. You should go to Harvard,_ he decided.

Erik sighed with a put-upon air. _You only say that because you won't be the one doing the studying._

_Don't worry, Erik. I can take your college admission tests for you, _Charles thought smugly.

Erik threw a piece of toast at his brother.

**New York, April 1944**

Charles didn't cry, even when the casket was lowered into the ground. He had loved his mother, but in a very distant way, and her accidental death did little to affect him now. As long as Erik was with him, he was alright.

Back at the mansion, Erik met with the lawyers. He was still just 16, but would turn 18 in less than a year and a half, and already he was making his will known.

"Mrs. Xavier could not change any conditions of the original will or trust from your Father," one lawyer explained to Erik. "If she had challenged it, she would have lost her allowance. Thus, things remain as they were. You and Charles are now legally the wards of the company trustees, with a court appointed guardian. The company remains in the trustee's hands until you turn 18. But you are considered old enough now to have the final say on most decisions regarding Charles. We shall make sure your wishes are followed."

"Good." Erik nodded in approval. He asked a few questions, making certain all was to his liking.

One of the lawyers rolled his eyes a bit, clearly perturbed at having to meet with a child. He was new to the family firm, and rather surprised that Erik sat in on most of the board meetings. Erik raised an eyebrow coolly.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Dunham?"

The man snorted a little, ignoring Erik and looking at his colleagues. "Really, am I the only one who finds it unusual to have to answer to a child?"

Erik smiled thinly. "What I would say is unusual, Mr Dunham, is you supporting not one but two 'ladies', besides your lovely wife, of course. How do you manage to juggle the demands of three women?"

Dunham paled, and the room was so quiet Erik could hear every bit of metal hum. "It is only because you obviously have excellent organization skills that you are still at the firm, Mr. Dunham. But I suggest that keep your opinions on matters other than business to yourself." Erik turned back the papers, but he was well aware of the shocked expressions.

"What? How dare you speak to me that way," Dunham sputtered. He looked to the other men for support, but found only glares. "Who said something? How does he know that?"

"I have my methods, Mr. Dunham. Consider this a warning."

Erik ignored him for the rest of the meeting. When it was over, one of senior retainers, a man that Erik had gotten to know well, remained behind and went to the sidebar. "Well played, young man. Very well played," he said, sounding rather proud.

"Thank you." Erik was surprised when the man offered him a very small taste of scotch, but he accepted and the retainer raised his own glass in a small toast.

"Are you going to tell me how you learned that delicious piece of gossip?"

"He says things in front of children."

Actually, the man thought things in front of children. The day before, at a small gathering prior to the prayer service, Dunham had encountered Charles, said something to him, and then immediately walked away, the child already forgotten. Erik found his brother frowning a little and immediately his guard went up.

_What did he say?_

_Well,_ Charles mussed, _he said something about me coming to play with his children sometime. But I don't know which family he means._

_What?_

Charles turned to his brother and shook his head in puzzlement. _He has two…no, three wives. Two of them have children, the third lady doesn't. Wait… _Charles paused, thinking. _If you are not married to a woman, is she still your wife?_

_Ummm…_ Erik wasn't sure he approved of his little brother knowing such things, but this was too good to pass up. _No, not legally. And you can only be married to one woman at a time._

_Oh, then he is breaking the law? He is married to two of them. That's wrong!_ Charles shook his head. _And he knows that if they ever find out about each other he is in big trouble._

"To say the least," Erik said aloud, dryly, as he filed the information away. It was always good to have some leverage on your lawyers.

Now, tasting his first sip of scotch, Erik made two decisions. One, he would have to ask Charles about some others in the main office, to see what they could learn. He didn't intend to make Charles his full-time spy and dig around too deeply, but a few tidbits on some people would be useful.

Two, scotch was disgusting. He didn't understand how adults drank it.

**TBC…..**

**PART FOUR**

**New York City, July 1945**

The troop transport Navy ship had arrived just a few hours previously, and Erik and Charles were proud to be among the thousands of people welcoming the first round of troops home from Europe. Erik had booked them a room at a hotel off Times Square, and they were out celebrating with people and generally enjoying the jubilation. Peace had been finalized in Europe, and Asia was sure to follow soon.

Erik would turn 18 soon, and was going to start at Harvard in the fall. But for now, he was still just a teenager, excited to see all that was happening, and happy to be escorting his younger brother around. Charles was even more excited, if possible. He didn't like crowds, as a general rule, but had made an exception for this day.

Erik brought rounds of drinks for all the servicemen who had flowed into a nearby bar, and skillfully guided a soda into Charles's hands. Charles just laughed, and accepted the beverage without comment. He had hoped to get a taste of beer, but figured the day was still young. Erik kept offering toasts to some enlisted men, and he figured there were possibilities for a sip of beer after Erik had loosened up a bit.

A new group of servicemen came into the bar, and Erik was swept up for a time cheering them. It wasn't until an all-too familiar trickle of fear swept through him that Erik was jerked back to reality.

Charles was frozen in place at their small table, a look of horror on his face. Erik just managed to get him to a trash can before he retched.

_Charles! What's wrong?_ Erik had never felt this level of terror from his brother before.

_God, no!_ Charles whimpered. _No, it can't be._

_What? _ Erik demanded. Charles just continued to vomit, his body shaking. Erik hadn't seen him this bad since he was a child.

"Is he alright?" A woman in a nurse's uniform appeared at their side. She had found a towel from the bar and wiped Charles's face.

"Yes, yes. He just….saw something." It wasn't entirely a lie. Let the woman think what she wanted. Charles had stopped vomiting finally, and he groaned, shaking his head. _Charles, can you make it to our hotel room?_

_Y-Yes._ It was just a faint sob.

_Alright, hold on Charles. Just concentrate on me._

The nurse helped get Charles out on the street and after a few blocks they were able to hail a cab. Erik thanked the lady, assuring her that it was surely just the crowds and excitement that had caused his little brother to be ill, and yes, they were going back to the hotel and would indeed call the doctor if necessary. It was 10 minutes to the hotel and Charles was shaking, his hands covering his eyes as if trying to blocking something out. The doorman hurried forward and got the elevator for them to their floor.

They had just made in inside the suite when Charles gasped. _Sick_. Erik carried him to the bathroom and Charles threw up whatever had managed to stay in his stomach earlier. Erik was afraid that Charles was about to faint, and he laid him down right on the floor in the hallway, leaving him only to grab a blanket from the bed. He wrapped Charles up and held him in his arms, lying down beside him.

_Charles, Charles! Stay with me just a little longer. Send me what you saw._ Charles whimpered, his eyes closed tightly, shaking his head. _Liebchen, now. It's alright. Send it to me. It's—_

Charles opened his eyes, and Erik felt himself physically thrown back against the wall as the memories struck him.

_Death._

_Bodies. So many bodies._

_Camps. Concentration camps._

_Torture. Deliberate killing._

Servicemen liberating the camps had discovered what had happened, and were now returning to the States with their memories. One of them had been in the bar, and his emotions and memories had been so strong that they had overwhelmed Charles. The government was keeping it quiet, but word would come out eventually, and it was so shocking and obscene that some people would question it had even happened.

_They were calling it a holocaust…_

Erik didn't know how many hours he laid crumpled against the wall. Finally, he started to come back to his body, and forced himself to open his eyes. It had grown dark in the suite, but he could make out Charles still lying wrapped in the blanket beside him. Erik focused himself and managed to roll over and check on his brother. Charles was pale and still, but breathing steadily, looking deeply asleep.

It took him several minutes, but Erik managed to crawl to the bathroom and then vomited until there was nothing left inside. Nothing but fury, and he focused it.

The light switches turned on at a mental command, and Erik returned to Charles. He picked him up and went to the bed, lying him down carefully. Charles didn't respond to a gentle mental check, and Erik decided to let him sleep. He remained awake the entire night, sitting in a chair by the windows, forcing himself to concentrate. To review the memories over and over, and experience everything, to know it all.

It would make him stronger.

And his heart, he knew what had likely happened to his parents.

The next morning, Charles was pale, but composed. He sat on the bed quietly, watching his brother with wide eyes.

_We can't tell anyone,_ Charles thought, twisting the end of his jacket a little in his hands. It was a nervous habit from childhood that still surfaced when he was upset. _The servicemen are sworn to secrecy for now._

_Not surprising. The government will release the news bit by bit, I suspect. This isn't something they want out while we are stilling fighting in the Pacific._ Erik finished packing their things and called down to the desk to let them know that they would be leaving soon. He wanted to get Charles away from the city before he became overwhelmed again. More troops would be arriving later that day, and Eric wasn't taking any chances that more of them had seen the concentration camps. He took a deep breath and sat down beside Charles on the bed, mentally getting out the box of memories.

Charles's blue eyes were even brighter with the dark circles underneath. He looked at Erik, and then, for the first time ever, backed away from his brother and held up a hand.

_No._

_Charles?_ Erik tilted his head in confusion.

_I'm not letting you take these memories away from me._

Erik's own pale eyes widened as he realized what Charles was saying, and he frowned in disapproval at the very notion. _I have to._

_No, you don't._

_Charles, you've only twelve! You're too young to hold all this._

_There were children there far younger than me, Erik. _Charles's chin was raised in a defiance that he had never needed to show his brother before. _I will share everything with you, but I am done letting you erase me afterwards. _

_Give me some-_

_I __need__ to keep this; all of it._

_Why, liebchen? What could possibly be the purpose?_

_To remind me to shield myself._ Charles's eyes glittered as he gestured to the windows. _I can feel so many things now, I know the memories are out there, but I can control them from coming into me. This can make me stronger, Erik. I'm focused like I never had to be before. You can't keep me sheltered anymore._

Erik hesitated, considering the words. _We need to work on your shields, yes. But this is not the way to do it. You shouldn't have to know things like that yet._

_Stop treating me like a baby! Children lived and died there, Erik. I'm old enough to understand that._

_Charles-_

"This is not open for discussion." It took Erik a moment to realize that Charles had spoken aloud.

Erik reached out, and encountered an absolute wall where their minds had always met before. Charles had shut him out. Started, Erik summoned his power and pushed against the wall, but it was made of Charles's mind, not metal, and it didn't budge.

For the first time in seven years, they were each alone.

For long minutes there was absolute silence, then Charles bit his lip. "Please, Erik," he begged softly. His voice was gentle, but his mind was steady as before. He did not back down. It was the first time he had ever defied his brother.

Erik warred within himself. If he truly demanded, he suspected Charles would give in eventually. But that would be taking something against his will, and despite himself, he admired his brother for standing up for this. He had always known that he could not erase all the emotions Charles felt, just the specific memories, and Charles's powers had made him grow up fast. Being exposed to everything that Charles had felt from others had made him mature beyond his years.

Just as Erik had been forced to grow up quickly.

In the end, it wasn't Charles's insistence that swayed Erik. It was his asking; he had never asked for something so dear before, and Erik couldn't refuse him.

Erik finally nodded reluctantly. "I won't ask you to forget anymore," he agreed slowly.

Charles sagged in relief_. I won't ever shut you out again. I promise._

Erik reached out and gently pushed back some of the wavy hair from Charles's forehead. _I know, liebchen. It's okay._

_I'm sorry, Erik,_ Charles pleaded with him for understanding. _But this…this can't be taken away. It wouldn't be right. Please don't be mad._

_You're right, Charles. I'm not angry. _He enfolded his brother in a hug._ But you share everything, do you understand me?_

_I always show you everything._

_I know. I just don't want you to have to see these things alone. _Erik considered for a moment, thinking about how he had always seen Charles's memories._ When something hits you very bad, like yesterday, do you think you can make your own box to put things in for a while? Store it away until at night when we can share it completely? _

Charles looked thoughtful._ I think so. _

Every night, for years, Erik had reached out to Charles and carefully taken any memories that had frightened him. So far, they hadn't found the limits of physical distance for Charles's powers. They had been up to 100 miles apart, and yet could still find each other for their nightly mental visits.

_Then that's what I want you to do. If you see something really bad, put it into your box as quickly as you can, and forget about it until we are talking at night. Then we'll open the box together._

Images from yesterday filtered through Charles' mind, and he nodded. _ I would like that, _he admitted. _We can do that together._

Erik nodded._ Together, _he agreed.

Not alone.

**THE END**

**Historical Note**: During WWII, 24-hour TV did not exist, reporters were not "embedded" with troops to report every move on live TV, and there was no such thing as the internet. Reporters allowed themselves to be censored in interests of National Security. There were rumors, of course, during the war of things alleged to be happening in Europe and Asia, but at the time no reasonable person could comprehend the true horror. British and American servicemen who liberated the concentration camps were indeed among the first to record the actual horrors of the Holocaust. When they returned home, stories and news footage of the camps began to be released to the public.


End file.
