Already exhausted beyond endurance, Hank's sedative hit his system like a sledge hammer and drove Charles right under nearly between one breath and the next. He barely registered Erik crawling in to bed behind him, his lover's strong arm locking around his waist as the older man's words echoed within his mind.

Yours... and belonging... were the last conscious thoughts before his mind went under.

Time became a slippery thing in the wake of Charles giving in to sleep and it might have been hard for Erik to tell if he himself slept or not. It was just going to get harder as the metal bender would find himself being watched by a pair of curious, wickedly intelligent blue eyes.

Blue eyes in the face of a young boy, no older than perhaps four with a disheveled mop of dark hair on his head, the hair was clean but in obvious need of a trim. The child wore blue stripped pajamas and was watching Erik with utter fascination, before he lifted his right arm up, the wrist bent at an unnatural angle and cradled in his left hand.

You're not usually here. The youngster said, his voice light but already laid with the rich accent of his breeding and upbringing.

Come on then. I need to find Mother.

The child held his good hand, small even for a child of his age, out for Erik to take.