driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Erik, Charles, and those aboard the Heron
Broadcast: No
Action: The Heron
When: Now

[Erik feels groggy when he wakes. How long had he slept for? Time didn’t hold the same structure that it used to for him, not when he was off alone, but he was certain he had slept before midnight… Shifting in the bed, he automatically casts his arm over the person sleeping next to him, a habit that usually leaves him bereft when it comes up empty. He cracks open his eyes, something nagging at the back of his mind even before he sees--

Charles. He jerks his hand back, confusion taking over. Charles shouldn’t be here, not in Poland. He’d left the mansion weeks ago. A rapid glance around the room (metal walls, a locker, that odd-looking hovering chair they’d spent so long building--) only serves to disorient him further. Where was he? Erik sits up, pressing a hand to his eyes as he tries to think. He had been in Poland. Somewhere remote, an abandoned house in the woods somewhere (not his house, he had already gone there and left again) on his road east, and… information rises out his whirling thoughts. A ship. This was that spaceship. He could feel it now, extending out through his senses. But that had been years ago. This wasn’t right. Something was terribly wrong.

He pulls his hand away from his face and stares at it, jaw tight. On his pointer finger was a slightly irregular silver ring. On his ring finger was his wedding band.

He remembers that his heart is broken. He remembers why he went back to Poland to begin with, why this is the wrong place. He remembers.

Something shakes apart inside him, and the Heron does the same.]

[Days ago, the two mutants on the Heron fell asleep and didn’t wake up. A few days later, their appearance started to change, Erik’s hair growing scruffier and the odd few silver threads starting to creep in, while Charles’s simply disappeared altogether. Anyone paying attention would notice they had grown noticeably older in just a few days. Now, it seems like they’re waking up. And Erik’s return to consciousness stands to shake everyone else to attention whether they like it or not.

It starts as a vibration, humming through the metal surfaces of the ship. It increases rapidly, getting noisier and more violent, until everything is rattling. Loose metal items begin to lift off from wherever they lie, floating jerkily into the air. Those closer to the walls around the edges of the ship will find less of a disturbance, though the floor still does its best to mimic an earthquake.

And then, just as abruptly, it stops. Most of it. Those vibrations are still shivering through everything, screws and spoons spinning drunkenly on the floor. Strange... should anyone investigate that closed bedroom, the culprit is easy to find.]

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[Of course you're not fine, is what Erik thinks when Charles looks away. Erik has long since learned the language of his old friend's expressions, what is and isn't said. This is what he needs to do to get through this, though. It's not Erik's place to shatter that illusion, not today. Not when they're both raw with a decade's worth of memories imperfectly mixed with months of time on the Fleet. He hardly knows himself where his feelings want to run. Something is knotted tight within him, and he knows he can't loosen it. It was ten years ago (it wasn't, but so was Magda, you can't).

Practicalities should come first. Who knows how long they would be here. When he speaks again, his tone is even.]

We need to speak with Raven and Hank. [A beat.] And... MacTaggert is still here, isn't she.

[ Moira. The old guilt burns briefly in his mind and he winces. It had been good - really good to see her again and settle his past mistakes. Even though he has, once again, dragged into another perilous situation. He rubs at his forehead. His shields were paper-thin after En-Sabah-Nur. They held up decently once the rest of them had returned to the school, but he hadn't had time to devote proper time to regaining his fine control.

And control was essential for Charles. He curls his fingers around his arm-rests and nods. ]

We do need to do that . . . but I was talking about you, Erik.

[ And, a little selfishly, he wanted to know about . . . them. ]

[He knew what Charles meant. He had side-stepped it, because what Erik needs in this life are things he can no longer have. Magda, Nina. Dreams. A purpose. Erik watches Charles, his calm face, his fingers tight around his chair, and he knows what the answer is. It came in the ruins of Cairo when Raven made her plea to him. It came on the trip home, all of them battered and bruised and somehow together.

It came in front of a mysterious tree, years ago, echoing through cobwebs and splinters of his heart. So he raises his head and looks Charles in the eye.]

I need to know my family is all right. That's all.

[ His breath hitches. Family. Charles got his family back. Twenty years later, but it happened, against all odds. The dream is over. He knew that, can feel it in his bones. In the revival of the X-Men.

It should have been beautiful. It should have been perfect. All the things he wanted to say, all the hurts and wrongs and aches, smoothed over by closeness, by solidarity. It was a victory that still rings a little hollow and yet.

And yet.

He smiles. ]

You came home. I am satisfied.

[It still rattles him to hear it, to think it. To feel it. That a home exists for him, even amidst the ashes of the one he'd built in Poland. It's like looking directly into the sun. He can't always do it, but feeling the warmth of it in the distance is enough for him. And it eases some of the muted distress lurking under his skin, at the volcanic changes between their time here, and their lives lived at home. It helps him breathe a bit easier.]

And now we're... here. Again.

And we'll get by again.

[ His voice is assured. Nothing shakes and he still looks completely in place. ]

They won't take anything away from us.

[Erik doesn't want to be here. It brings back ugly feelings of entrapment, frustration. And yet he knows he doesn't particularly want to be anywhere else, either. There were places he had intended to go - steps along a solitary journey. None of it is of paramount importance, anymore. It was for himself alone.

Besides. Erik has little left to lose.]

I know.

If - If you need anything . . .

[ He stumbles, pulling back. Erik doesn't know. Charles doesn't know. It's why Erik needed to step away from the school and he understood that. He understood it then too. ]

Then I'll tell you.

[He finishes the sentence softly, unconcerned. This was a hurdle neither of them could manage. Old habits warred with new realities. It's the gesture that matters, not the fulfillment of it. Erik can appreciate that much; if Charles kept pressing, it would be a different matter. He doesn't think they'll have the time to get there yet, though.]

[ He nods quietly. Erik isn't helpless or hopeless for that matter. They've both come a long way, setbacks aside. This will have to be enough for now. The rest . . . and he grimaces to himself, already picturing it, will come later. ]

[It hasn't escaped his notice that Charles was refusing to speak to how he felt in the moment. The flickers of expression on his face, the twists of discontent, are enough to disprove his platitudes to Erik's mind. Who wouldn't be disquieted, though? This was jarring enough, without the clamour of memories bubbling around in their heads. Cairo. Westchester. Everywhere in between. Erik turns his head for a moment and looks at the door. Soon enough there would be questions. Hard ones.

He looks back to Charles with a somber expression, and extends his hand to him.]

[ His face crumples carefully, like a thought-out deconstruction before he takes Erik's hand, carefully lacing their fingers together. It's a light touch, easily pulled away if necessary. ]

[It's enough. Erik curls his fingers over and squeezes Charles's hand gently. A bracing gesture, for whatever comes next.]

It's good to see you, despite all this. [It hasn't been that long, he knows. Still.]

[ Charles huffs lightly, but there's a ghost of a smile on his face. ]

I didn't think it would happen so soon.

Neither did I. [In fact, he'd had no concept of how long it might be until he saw them all again. He had just headed out and away; the rest would follow when the time was right.

He lets go of Charles's hand, returning his attention to the door briefly. Waiting.] Have things been well?

So far. Some of the students were a bit rattled with the turn of events at Cairo, but they're finding their footing quickly enough.

[ There's a thread of pride in his voice. ]

They're resilient. They'll manage. [He had seen enough of their spirit in the few months he was there, rebuilding the mansion, to know this was the truth. It had hurt at times, to be around so many of them while missing the one he'd never see again.]

Mmm. They will.

[ He has no doubts there. ]

I finally spoke to Alex's parents. Scott made it clear he wants to stay but . . . I felt I needed to.

[Alex. Raven had told him, before they even left Cairo. Even now it has a sense of unreality to him, because while Erik knows he saw the man in the minutes before his death, it was a hard memory to focus on. Much like everything else that happened while he was one of En Sabah Nur's followers, it was mired in fog and distance. Before then, he hadn't seen Alex in over twenty years. Hadn't thought about him in as long. It was something to know it still inspired a pang of regret in him, lacking though it is.

He just nods. Alex wasn't a subject he felt he had the right to talk about.]

[ He glosses over it quickly. Losing Alex still felt raw to Charles. He had been so pleased when Alex came back, with little to no qualms. Everything he had heard about the school and what led to its destruction felt unreal, even though the school stands once more. ]

That's all on my end. I'm sure the X-Men and the rest of the teachers will handle things fine in my absence.

You realise time might not even be moving. [That had been the case, hadn't it? Erik had once come here alone, and the others had only followed a month later. Now, with this convoluted change to events, he's no longer sure if that's the case. But it's worth putting out there, to sooth Charles's concerns more than anything else. It's not as though anyone would be looking for Erik back there, after all.]

I do. Even so - I'm not worried.

[ He pauses, and amends. ] Not too worried.

After fifteen minutes? Bravo.

[ He shrugs loosely. ]

I suppose I have a lot of faith.

That you do. [Erik scratches his neck absently, then tentatively extends his senses over the ship. The familiarity of it strikes him, even after all this time. Nothing seems to be broken, after his upset. There are people moving around, he can feel that through the metal. It lays down a thread of tension across his shoulders, but these are people he knew, more or less.]

I don't think I damaged anything.