Warnings apply for ABSOLUTE RIDICULOUSNESS. Honestly, it has to be warned, because it's like all the angst got squeezed out of this story in Parts I-V, but so did all the substance, so this epilogue is pretty much me slapping a happy face sticker on it, tying up a few loose ends and proclaiming it done.

Also warning for adorkableness, Erik's inappropriate timing and no actual delivery on the smut front (is no sex better than "oh god this author has totally butchered this" sex?).

Also, this epilogue is unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Epilogue

Erik turned his face into the pillow to chase away the voices in his head—to chase away the voice, singular, whose softly spoken words persisted, even as their owner had long since disappeared. He missed Charles in the mornings most of all, when the bed beside him was empty and cold. It had been a long six months and he still struggled to reconcile the decisions he'd made.

Raven's hand stroked mindless patterns into his hair and he sighed softly. He craned his head to look at her, perched beside him on the bed in her nightgown, golden eyes gleaming in the mid-morning light. He watched her for a time, the cant of her head and the soft flutter of her sleeve against her scaled, blue skin as she massaged his hair with her fingertips.

The half-smile on his face dropped when he looked past her.

Sprawled out on top of the covers, fully clothed and sleeping soundly, was Azazel.

Raven followed his gaze and poked the slumbering mutant with the heel of her foot. "Проснись и пой!"

Azazel stirred awake, mouthing a soft litany of Russian into Erik's favorite pillow, conveniently missing from its usual place behind his head. As Erik glared daggers at Raven and her pillow-thieving boyfriend, he decided she should be thankful that he wasn't literally glaring daggers at them, because he could absolutely do that if he wanted to. His cause was as good as lost, though, since Raven remained impervious to his threats—something that provided an endless source of frustration (his) and amusement (hers) for the whole house.

Erik lowered his figurative daggers at the soft look on Raven's face as she peered down at him.

"Are you all right?" she asked, like she had every day for the past six months, still ready to mobilize on his mark.

Erik answered her every day, without fail, exactly the same way.

"Yes."

He struggled to reconcile his decisions but he hadn't regretted them yet. Returning to Westchester with half the Brotherhood in tow and seeing the look of delight on Charles' face was one decision he would never take back—unless it was to see that look for the first time all over again.

He didn't know how long it would last, how long the itch would stay buried if it ever resurfaced at all. He wasn't lying when he told Charles his memories had changed him, but how much remained a mystery to them both.

For now, Westchester was his home, though it was less the physical location that mattered and more the small family they had made.

After Raven and Azazel banished him from his own bed, Erik wandered into the kitchen, barefoot, and growled at the distinct lack of caffeine in his vicinity. He sat at the kitchen table and put his head into his hands, massaged his temples and tried his hardest not to hate the world and all of its three billion inhabitants.

He heard the soft clink of china and a thin plume of heat as a steaming mug of coffee was placed by his elbow. He glanced up sharply and received a fleeting glimpse of Ororo's shy smile as the girl dashed away into the hall, her bright sundress a blur of colour as she ran.

Erik followed her scampering frame with his eyes until she disappeared around the corner, and dropped his eyes to the mug.

He sipped the coffee slowly, revelled in its taste.

The world and most of its three billion inhabitants.

Ororo was studying botany in the greenhouse with Hank and Sean when he sought her out to thank her. Erik stayed, engaged her for a time, and learnt more than he ever needed to know about seeds and soil samples as a result.

She held out a thick stem on which several small, white flowers had grown clustered together. The color inside differed from flower to flower, he noticed idly—some were yellow inside, while others were a crisp, bright pink. He decided it was worth the risk of ridicule by voicing his observation. His effort paid off when Ororo's entire face lit up in happiness.

"They're blossoms," she explained, voice calm but enthused. She twirled the stem around in her small hands and motioned for Erik to take it from her. He did, and mimicked her unconsciously.

Erik watched the colors blur together—white-yellow-white-pink, white-yellow-white-pink—with a detached sort of contentment.

He smiled indulgently at Ororo. "Go on."

"These ones are special," she said and touched the flower petals with a reverence not usually shown to plants already cut. He supposed this one was rather beautiful, however. "They're chestnut blossoms."

"I see," said Erik, though he really didn't.

Ororo giggled.

"Doctor McCoy teaches me about science, which is good, but Mr Cassidy teaches me about the meanings of the flowers, which is fun."

Erik plucked at one of the small, white flowers. "So what do chestnut blossoms mean, then?"

Ororo smiled evenly and tilted her head to the side, observing him closely as she said, "The chestnut blossom means 'do me justice'."

His eyes snapped up to seek hers. Ororo's smile grew wider.

"The Professor did say your reaction would be good," she said pensively.

"Charles knows about this?" Erik asked incredulously. She giggled again as Erik realized precisely how uninspired that question was. Of courseCharles knew. Charles knew everything. Except, apparently, when Erik ought to be informed of things.

"Where do they grow?" he asked her, offhandedly. Ororo pointed to the back entrance of the greenhouse.

Erik tucked a tiny blossom behind her ear, brushing her soft, white hair as he did so. He stood, straightened his chair and nodded to Hank and Sean out the corner of his eye. Then he knelt down and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, meine Prinzessin."

"Königin," Ororo corrected happily, busying herself by holding the chestnut blossoms to the light.

"My mistake," Erik said with a low bow and a half-smile, "Königin."

She nodded regally, "Diener."

Erik chuckled and bade her farewell, heading to the chestnut blossoms and Charles.

He stood at the gateway leading to the outside garden and revelled in the sight of both.

Charles had tucked the sleeves of his light blue button-down shirt to his elbows, revealing the smooth, freckled skin underneath. He stood before a gigantic green bush dotted with offshoots of small, white flowers. Erik closed in and pressed the line of his body against Charles', hands flying to the other man's waist to hold him steady. Charles didn't startle, was undoubtedly in the room from the very beginning of his conversation with Ororo. What would once have disturbed him now left him with a sense of fond exasperation for Charles' antics.

He cinched his arms tightly around Charles and nuzzled into his neck, rewarded with a gasp of surprised pleasure. He pressed firm, wet kisses to the exposed skin, warmed by the mid-day sun and the steady burn of his exertion as Charles tended to the blossoms. Erik smiled at the domesticity, marvelled at it; the thought hadn't bothered him for a long time. He enjoyed these days most of all in fact, where nothing went to plan because there was no plan, where life was exciting and dull by degrees, but always, always happy.

Charles turned in his embrace.

"Hello Erik," he said. "Sleep well?"

Erik's lips twitched. Charles knew he'd been awake for the past few hours, and that yes, Erik did sleep well—very well, in fact, courtesy of a certain late-night activity they were both present for (that took place after chess).

"Terribly," he replied, with the knowledge that both his mind and body spoke otherwise.

Charles made an amused sound in the back of his throat and kissed him lightly. Then, he drew away to face the blossoms once more. Erik dropped one arm to his side but kept the other wrapped around Charles.

"How long have you know?" Erik asked him quietly.

"A week," Charles said with a sad smile, side-eying Erik to garner his reaction.

His face remained decidedly blank. It wasn't a trick, either. Erik honestly didn't know how to feel about it.

Sensing his uncertainty, Charles explained, "I was waiting for you. You knew him too, after all."

He did, although not quite as intimately as Charles, and certainly not as long as he had.

Erik felt the phantom pain of the demon's hand through his chest and flinched. Beside him, Charles copied the movement, face falling in remembered agony. He swept over the disjointed memories that followed, of staring up at Charles' face and wondering why he was crying, towards the moment when a ripple of peace settled over him. It bathed his wounds, cleansed him of the darkness he felt encroaching on his thoughts and eradicated any trace of doubt from his mind. There had been a terrifying moment where it faded, where Erik felt none of its warmth and every bit of the cold darkness that lingered beneath it, but then it had returned. Justice had returned, to fulfil his final promise.

Charles' breath hitched beside him. Erik glanced over in time to see a tear roll slowly down his cheek.

"I'd made peace with him leaving long before we embarked on that mission. But there were still things I wanted to say that I never got the chance to and it hurts..." he trailed off, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He shook his head in frustration with himself. "But you know this already. I've talked about it often enough."

Erik did know, but he didn't mind hearing it again. He told him as much.

"Thank you," Charles said sincerely, the lines of his face relaxing, "I think this might be the last time I have to say so, though."

"What do you mean?"

Charles thumbed a tiny bud, ran his fingertips along the white undersides of the flowers. Erik followed them with his eyes, the way they dipped and curled into the farthest reaches of everything they touched. It was the very definition of Charles, slotting himself into all the empty spaces to become exactly what they needed when they needed it most. "Ororo told you about their meaning, yes?"

Erik nodded, wondering where this was going. Charles picked up the thought and smiled.

'Good things come to those who wait.'

'That isn't what you said last night,' Erik quipped back with a grin.

"Erik!" Charles said, appropriately scandalized. Erik took immense pleasure in seeing him blush like that. "There are children about!"

"We weren't talking, Charles, not in the conventional sense," he reminded him.

"Jean's a telepath," Charles observed.

"Jean is away on a field trip. Alistaire picked her up this afternoon. I have no idea what she sees in him," he added grumpily.

Charles' smile became knowing. "A medical degree, perhaps?"

Jean had been insisting for the past few months that the only thing she was interested in becoming was a doctor. Also, a gymnast. And a beautician. And a race-car driver. And an astronaut. And the President of the United States. This time, however, she actually had someone who could mentor her; Erik didn't want to admit it, but this dream stood a chance of enduring.

He did the only thing he could do when confronting a topic he didn't want to talk about. He changed the subject.

"What else is so special about these blossoms, then, if not their meaning?"

He reached out to pluck one from its stem, only to have his hand slapped away by Charles. Erik's eyebrows reached for his hairline. Charles wasn't usually so forward. But then, nothing about this day had quite matched his expectations so far.

It was exciting.

"The inside, see how it's colored?" Charles asked, lapsing into teaching mode. It would be condescending if it weren't so arousing.

'For God's sake, Erik!' Charles admonished, his voice strained. A dark red flush appeared on his cheeks.

'I'm sorry'—he really, really wasn't—'...continue.'

Charles huffed and said nothing.

"The inside," Erik prompted. "It's colored."

"Yes," he said, "it is. Now, chestnut blossoms alternate between being yellow and pink inside." He motioned to one set of cheery, yellow flowers and to another set of rosy pink. "Notice anything different about these ones?"

"Those ones, no," Erik answered, eyes tracking the two clusters Charles had brought his attention to. He motioned to the rest of the bush. "Those, on the other hand, yes."

Charles' eyes glittered in the sunlight. "What?"

This time, when Erik plucked a flower, Charles didn't stop him. He bought it up to the side of his face, compared the color in its centre with the cerulean of Charles' eyes. "They're blue."

"Exactly."

"I don't..."

Charles took his hand, used it to draw the flower to him. "Look closely, Erik. They're not just blue; they're white and blue. If 'do me justice' is not sign enough, when the flowers turn a never-before-seen shade, a shade of blue—white and blue, my friend, white and blue—there can be no doubt anymore. Not to mention, they're not sprouting like this, Erik. Last week, every one of these were pink or yellow. With every passing day, more and more of them turn blue."

His excitement, as always, was infectious. Erik opened his mouth to speak. "You truly believe that—"

Charles gripped his arms before he could finish.

"Yes." He released a giddy laugh and then gasped, as if the realization was striking him anew. "He's alive, Erik."

Erik smiled crookedly at him and shrugged. "Then talk."

Charles brushed the hair out of his eyes and turned toward the tree. He bit his lip nervously but nodded, more to himself than to Erik.

He took a deep breath.

"Justice," he began carefully, "You once told me that you were sorry you hadn't kept your promise, that when I woke up after the Veil was fixed I would be free and because you were still with me once I left, you broke that promise. I want to say I'm sorry, but I have to disagree with you. You didn't just take me from that facility—you saved my life, even after they rescued me. You gave me the one thing I never had: a chance, with my sister and with Erik. You gave me reconciliation, clarity and peace. But most of all, you gave me hope and love.

"That, to me, is freedom, like I hope wherever you are means freedom for you," he said, lips curling into a thoughtful smile, "I hope you're safe, I hope you're happy, I hope you're chasing some cause for justice out there and I hope you find someone to heed your call.

"I don't know if you feel in the Fade, if that's where you even are, but I hope this message gives you strength, that it makes you smile. I don't know about the people out there or the people from your world, but let me tell you something about me. Everything we went through together demonstrated one thing for me," Charles whispered, voice soft and reverent.

"You are not simply a formless idea, Justice; you are the virtue to which I aspire."

Charles tilted his head up to the sky, let the sun soak into his skin, as close to Justice's light as he could manage. Erik reached for his hand.

"You gave me everything," admitted Charles and that—that was new.

Erik lifted his eyes from their joint hands to see Charles staring straight at him, a soft expression on his face.

His heart beat faster at the sight.

"You gave us both everything," Erik echoed, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "Everything."

He thought of all they had accomplished together: finalizing the papers for the school, providing a home for no less than twenty rescued mutants—Garrett, Seb, Ava and Belle included—as well as the Brotherhood, creating a safe haven from civilisation's prying eyes...

He thought of everything they would accomplish together, today and tomorrow, in a year from now, in five, ten.

Charles' eyes beamed with warmth as the thought came to rest between them, beneath the shade of the chestnut tree, whose remaining flowers bloomed bright and blue.

fin

The following translations are just as unbeta'd as this chapter. If you are Russian and/or German and I've ruined your language, I am really sorry. Please let me know the correct translations and I'll change it.

"Проснись и пой": rise and shine
"meine Prinzessin": my princess
"Königin": queen
"Diener": servant

I may possibly revisit this universe at some point and write some PWP, because there was this one scene with Charles and Erik in the library that involved wall-slamming, but was cut for essential dialogue, so...

If you're interested, I might be inclined to finish and post it. ;)

That aside, thank you so, so much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed it.