His eyes were starting to droop there. They open again at the question, and he frowns for a moment, as if trying to remember what he'd said a moment ago.

"Father, I was five. Mother, eighteen." He says it as though someone had asked him something mundane, like what's the make and registration of his car.

Had he not told Erik that? He was sure he would have realised. People don't go inheriting large estates as birthday gifts (no Charles, you can read their minds, not the other way around).

"Lab accident and liver failure, respectively." He goes quiet for several minutes before deciding he would very much like to roll onto his other side.