driftfleet | (no subject)

[he wouldn't say he was close to his parents, but he kept in contact with them over the years. They were as normal as you could get, and while they had been accepting of his mutation, they'd never really understood it. And especially not when he went and enhanced it, either.

I had some explaining to do. He shrugs, but there's some humor in his tone. Maybe I'll bring them out to New York instead. Illinois isn't that exciting.]

[ They're always welcome at the mansion, if you like, Charles replies in turn. The vision was starting to waver and Charles was starting to feel the edges of exhaustion creeping into his thoughts. With a sigh, he lets the vision melt away, pulling away from Hank's mind. ]

[Mom does want to meet you. He says, watching the vision fade.

He sits back a little, faintly shaking his head after it's clear. He doesn't bother hiding how impressed he is; he's never made it a secret that he's always been amazed by Charles' power]

It's a good thing you stopped, I was about to start making outlandish requests.

No more than usual.

[ He rubs his forehead idly. ]

You say that as if I make them all the time.

[he tilts his head] Too much?

No. My head's ringing a little, but it'll fade soon enough.

. . . is that from using your telepathy, or - leftover from what happened?

[ He shakes his head. ]

Telepathic. Deep melds or trauma doesn't last long.

["or trauma". He makes an understanding noise]

Because you're rusty, or - ? [it sort of dawns on him that he doesn't know much about Charles' powers, aside from what he's been told and what he's seen]

[ He nods. ]

Telepathy involves doing a huge number of things at the same time. That's why it can be taxing. When you have to maintain a connection, plus change memories or bring them to the forefront along with manipulating the body.

It's too much. Like too many balls in the air.

[he nods, considering]

I can't imagine what it takes to manage what you can do now, let alone all of that at once. [he opens his mouth but pauses, because the next question that springs to mind doesn't exactly foster happy memories. He takes a moment to figure out a way to word it without bringing up specifics]

Do you know what your limits are right now? Compared to - what you were able to do before?

Other than the ships limiting me . . . I don't think there are any other boundaries.

That's not what I mean.

. . . [fine he'll just say it] I mean, compared to - Washington, and what you were capable of then. Would you be able to manage that right now?

[ Ah. He nods. ]

That . . . would be easy.

Show off. [it's gentle teasing, considering the topic. But it does give him an idea]

So hypothetically speaking, would you be able to say - control someone without them realizing it? Sort of - combining that with what we were just doing.

[ He nods, though his expression is tight. ]

I -- I could do that, yes.

[nngh. His expression softens a little]

Hypothetically, Charles. I'm trying to figure out just how rusty you are.

I've never -- [ He swallows. ] -- I haven't tried that since Cuba.

—ah - sorry, I didn't mean to—

[he huffs out a weak noise] That's not where I was trying to go.

I know.

[ He shakes his head. ] I haven't done it. And it's not something I can . . . practice.

Can't or won't?

[he winces a little, then waves a dismissive hand] Where I was trying to go was trying to figure out a way to - practice all of those things you mentioned at once, somehow. Without - bringing up anything like that.

I can't -- The minute anyone knew that, they'll turn on me. I can't.

[Charles Xavier, you are getting such a look]

Do you think I'm going to turn on you? It's just us.

Anyone can turn!

I'm not anyone! [it takes every ounce of control he has not to slam his hand down on the counter and break it somehow. He rarely lets his own anger get the better of him, but this time -]

I'm the last person who'll ever turn on you, you damned idiot. How do I have to prove it this time? What do I have to say to make it finally sink in?