Chapter Text
You are needed
Someone was calling.
Lazily, Erik rolled over. He began the slow rise into full consciousness.
Come, you are needed.
Someone was calling him.
Erik's attention coalesced into alert awareness.
Help. Me.
The call came again, and this time Erik was ready. He seized the summons tightly, tracing it back to the plane and place and time it originated from.
Earth. America. Now
Erik gathered himself up, and moved.
Erik dropped like a burning stone into the physical realms, flying like an arrow to his caller. Erik's spirit condensed into shielding matter in a bare flash of seconds. Flesh, bones and blood clothed his true energy in his familiar Earthly form.
In the musty dimness, Erik opened his new, old eyes, grey blue like the wings of the storms he rode, and saw. The atmosphere in the bare, crowded room- an attic?- was close and stiflingly hot. Dust particles hung in the air, floating between the bars of sunlight and shadow by the small, dirty window. A smaller form made a strangled noise, backing away. Erik smiled.
“You called me here. I have come.”
He spoke gently, and glanced at the markings on the floor by his feet. Curious. He stepped over the lines and symbols of what might have been intended to be a binding circle. Erik knelt, and ran a questioning finger across the patterns. It was well drawn. It might even have worked, to bind one of the demon kind. If it had been drawn in the ritual blood and earth and seawater, and not, as this one had been, in chalk.
“Well?” Erik said. He put a hint of threat into it this time.
“I'm terribly sorry.” A young voice said. “I- I don't think I thought it was going to work.” Erik rose, and took three swift steps into the room.
“Stand in the light.” Erik said. “I would see who thought to summon me. It has been a long time since a mortal woke me.” The child who stepped forwards could not have been more than ten years of age. Erik's eyes widened, fractionally. The boy was pale, brown haired, and bruised. There was a teasing familarity to his features Erik couldn't quite place. He limped forwards awkwardly, keeping his eyes lowered to boot level. His feet were bare.
“You're a little young for demon-raising.” Erik said, mildly. The boy raised dazzlingly blue eyes to his, sharply.
“You're a demon?” he said, startled. “You don't look- that is, the book only said spirits.”
“I look as I choose.” Said Erik, still gently. “And which book might that be?” He didn't touch the part of the boy's statement that mentioned demons. Erik was a truthful spirit, on the whole, but he did not intend to answer a question that hadn't been asked; not so early in the conversation.
“Oh. Here.” the boy held out the book at arms length, but did not let go if it or come too close. Erik was pleased to note some rudimentary self protection in the child. He looked at the book. Erik recognised it. The author had been mad, and unable to tell the difference between spirits that did harm and spirits that protected, but he could write accurately and interestingly. Unfortunately.
“I know that work.” he said, squatting. The boy didn't move. “Where did you find it?”
“Here.” The boy shrugged. “Cain locked me in, yesterday, for a joke- I was getting bored. So I readi it.”
You were also getting frightened Erik thought, shrewdly. The solid door to the attic had fresh scrapes and marks as if someone had tried to kick or hit it. And some of the smudging on the boy's face was from tear stains, not bruising or dirt.
“Cain?” Erik tilted his head, querying. The boy came a step closer.
“My stepbrother.” he said, ruefully. “He's a bit- he not very- well, he's off to spend the week with friends later today- I thought he might forget I was here.”
“So you summoned me to break down the door for you.” Erik said, inflectionless. The boy flushed, and shifted.
“No!... well, I suppose I was worried about Raven.”
“You summoned me for pet care?”
“She's my sister!” the boy snapped, and Erik smiled again.
“And what.” Erik said, “Worries you about your sister?”
“I- I want her to be safe and mother was talking about sending me away- to school.” the boy muttered. Every one of his instincts shrilled in Erik's blood, trumpeting wildly.
Protection! Oh, at last, at last, he had been called for the tasks he was born for!
Erik drew in a calming breath. Patience. The boy might have a specific deed in mind.
“Safe?” he said, dryly.
“From Cain. And Kurt.” the boy said, bluntly.
“Your stepbrother.” Erik said. “And?”
“His father.” Erik raised an eyebrow.
“Is locking people in attics such a terrible thing, then? As well as a trait shared by father and-”
“No. I'm older, I can look after myself.” A shadowed look came over the boy's face then. “I- look, I don't expect you to believe me. But sometimes- sometimes I can hear people's thoughts.”
He paused, clearly searching Erik's face for scorn or disbelief. Erik kept his face still and waited.
“And Cain- he likes, likes hurting people. I can hear him. Thinking about it.” The boy's voice shook. “And Kurt won't stop him and they hate both of us because we're going to inherit most of my father's money and- and-” he stopped, and rubbed a hand over his face, sky-blue eyes glistening. “And I've been in here for two days, almost, and I suppose I got a bit silly, and I didn't expect this to work but-”
“Enough.” Erik said. “I believe you.”
“You- you do?”
“If you had read a little further in that book than chapter two.” Erik said. “You would have come across an account of the great families, who sent their sons and their daughters to lie with spirits, in exchange for power, or favours.” Erik broke off, thinking of bright eyes,and a wicked smile. Magda. “The children born from those unions often had... gifts, which were passed down to their children.” The boy would also have read just how dangerous it was for a child of such a line to attempt to summon demons, as well. Erik swiftly decided not to mention that. The boy was already scared, and tired.
And hopefully, with Erik to... teach him, he would learn why summoning spirits of any description was not a safe or wise course of action. For anyone.
“Oh.” The boy said. “So my family-”
“Is likely descended from one of those lines, yes.” Erik said. Crouching on the floor was getting uncomfortable. He sat, and stretched his long legs out in front of him.
“So.” The boy said. “Can you help me?”
“With protecting your sister? How do you propose I do that?” Erik said, and smiled widely enough to display the inhuman number and sharpness of his teeth.
The boy blanched, but remained steadfast.
“I- I want her to be safe, and happy, and healthy.” he said. “That's all.”
“Nothing for yourself?” Erik said, curious.
“Look.” the boy said, steadily. “If I have a soul, or, a life or something, that you're going to want, in exchange, then I won't-” His voice began to waver. “I'll be dead, or I won't be me, right?” Erik inclined his head, impassively. “So, what I want- I want for me, me as I am now, for Raven to be all right. For Kurt not to hit her. For Cain to stop wanting to-” He broke off. Erik could see the boy was close to tears. He had no desire to push the child to breaking point.
“To whom shall I make my vow?” He said. The child looked blank. “What is your name?” Erik prompted.
“I'm- look, what do you want in exchange for this?”
“You pick a poor time to become wary, boy.” Erik said, and stood. He moved, too fast for human eye to follow, and took the child by his scrawny shoulders. “It's a little late for that. Don't you think?”
“I- “ The boy faltered. Erik squinted down at him. He was swaying, slightly. Erik diagnosed hunger, or thirst, combined with that damaged ankle he had seen earlier.
Enough. He was a spirit of protection; no mere hungry ghost to feed on a child's fears, or demon, to consume souls and bodies. Enough.
“Very well.” Erik said, gently. “It will all be very well. I will swear it so.”
“Thank you.” The boy said, visibly pulling himself together. His hand gripped each other, white-knuckled.
“But you need not fear me." Erik said, softly, sincerely. I don't want your soul, or your flesh, or your life. I want your name.” The boy stared at him, stubbornly. Erik sighed.
“Well?” Eventually, the boy slumped in Erik's hands.
“Charles.” he sad, quietly. “I'm Charles Xavier.”
“Well, Charles Xavier.” Erik said. “You may call me Erik.”
He smiled, this time without an edge to it, and the boy smiled back. Erik shifted his stance, and then lifted the boy to his hip, as a mother with a younger child might. The boy squawked, startled, but he did not struggle. Erik frowned to himself. This boy, this Charles was too light for his age. Not that it would have mattered, not to Erik, who possessed strength beyond the mortal. The child raised wondering eyes.
“What?” Erik said. “I may as well carry you downstairs; it's quicker.”
“The door's locked.” Charles Xavier said.
“Not to me.” Erik said, and gestured, with the hand not curled around Charles' skinny waist. “Let's get you fed, first. Shall we?
Obedient to Erik's will, the door creaked open.
Charles Xavier laughed.