Erik's POV:
"Charles, dear, WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?" I yelled.
"You know her better than I do," Charles answered annoyingly calm.
"BUT YOU'RE A TELEPATH!" I yelled once again.
"I think that says a lot about your relationship," Charles spoke.
"I hate it when you're right," I said quietly.
"So, you hate it all the time," Charles spoke condescendingly as always.
"Don't push it," I warned. I started to think, unfortunately. How do I fix this? How does one make up for framing their best friend for murder? Maybe someone else could give me advice seeing as my first husband isn't being very helpful.
"First husband?" Charles asked confused.
"You never know..." I spoke.
"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!?" Charles yelled. I walked out of the room while Charles called after me, "ERIK! ERIK COME BACK HERE! ERIK!". He's so easy to mess with. Now, who to ask? Well, there's the obvious choice, but he might kill me. Eh, why not today seems like a decent day to die. The incredibly handsome and talented Erik Lehnsherr died on a lovely Saturday, doesn't sound half-bad. I walked into the lab and knocked against the wall. Hank looked over at me and definitely didn't look happy to see me, which is weird because everyone loves me.
"I was wondering if-" I started before being rudely interrupted.
"No," Hank stated firmly.
"I just-," I started again.
"No," Hank restated.
"Good talk," I joked.
"Get out," Hank ordered. And get out I did. I quickly escaped the lab and stood in the hall. Who else can I ask? Peter? No. I am not asking my son for help, that's humiliating. I suppose there is Scott, maybe he'd help? Fine, I'll ask him.
I started on my search and eventually found him grading tests in his classroom. I looked at his outfit and he had clearly leaned into the whole math teacher thing. He was wearing a plaid shirt and khaki pants and I tried very hard to resist the overwhelming urge to make fun of him. Remember Erik, you need him to help you. BUT THAT OUTFIT! IT'S LIKE HE'S AGED TWENTY YEARS SINCE HE STARTED TEACHING!
"Hey, buddy," I called and he turned and looked at me with a straight face. He was probably glaring, but it's hard to tell.
"What is it, Erik?" Scott asked.
"I want to fix things with Crimson-" I spoke before getting cut off again.
"Of course you do, but let me guess you have no idea how," Scott spoke somehow sounding more condescending than my husband. Why is Crimson friends with this man? I don't understand the appeal.
"Yes-" I spoke before he interrupted me AGAIN. I bit my tongue and tried to keep my temper in check. You need him, Erik.
"First, become sorry for what you've done because we both know you are sorry for that murder, but you will be. Second, give a genuine apology for EVERYTHING. Third, fix this god-awful mess YOU made. And lastly, make some heartfelt gesture and then pray she likes you enough to forgive you fully," Scott explained.
"Thank you," I spoke genuinely for once.
"Good luck, Erik," Scott responded. I exited the classroom and exhaled. Good job Erik, you held your insults in and didn't lass out. I started to walk down the hall when I saw the door to Logan's classroom open. SHIT! RUN!
Crimson's POV:
I walked out of my classroom and saw Logan going running down the hall. You know, I should probably do something, but I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see that. I was bored and so I walked next door to Scott's classroom. I opened the door and he didn't look up from the papers that littered his desk.
"Hey, Scotty!" I called out getting his attention. He looked up at me and smiled.
"Hey, Crimson!" He replied happily.
"Scotty, how long have you been grading tests for?" I asked.
"Several hours," Scott replied sheepishly.
"That's it! I'm forcing you to go for a walk with me, no negotiation!" I declared.
"What about the tests?" Scott asked.
"Just find an excuse to give someone detention and make them grade it, that's what I do," I answered.
"That's evil, I love it," Scott replied while getting up from his desk. Scott offered his arm to me. "Shall we?" He asked. I linked arms with him and remembered when we'd done this when back when I was still new here.
We walked around the school grounds and eventually, Peter showed up from god knows where and joined us. I looked at the two of them and they both had changed up their wardrobes to reflect their jobs and it was a sight to behold. Scott in a plaid button-up and khaki and despite not having classes today Peter was dressed like every PE teacher ever with very tight short shorts, a polo shirt, questionably long white socks, and his whistle was hanging from his neck.
"So what's the long-term plan for the whole eh- world wanting to kill us thing?" Peter asked.
"No idea, but I'm sure we'll figure something out," I responded.
"We better figure something out quick, Charles has gotten some calls from angry parents who want to take their kids out of the school," Scott informed.
"The way I see it there's really two options, either we try to expose Andrew and hope people believe us or that we find some evidence. Or we have to do some grand heroic act to show that we're not bad and that they shouldn't kill us," I explained.
"In order to get the evidence we'd have to commit even more crimes, so what do we just hope that someone important ends up in danger and we just happen to have the chance to save them?" Peter asked unconvinced.
"I don't know if the symbol for why they hate us wasn't a person we could just destroy it like Erik did with his helmet when he married Charles," Scott spoke.
"And I can't die so, that's not really an option," I joked getting a laugh from both boys.
"You know what? Enough sadness and adult problems I will be organizing another game night and everyone will be forced to have fun!" Peter declared.
"I'm in!" I announced.
"Screw it, me too!" Scott chimed in.