driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That gets a slight wince from Erik, but it's gone as quick as it appears.]

That's fortunate.

[ Charles purses his lips quietly. There's more he wants to say, but it will remain unsaid. It was unsaid then, when Erik left. But now, there were more lines drawn in the sand. He opens his mouth -

( And he sees the two bands on Erik's hand. )

And he finds he can't speak anymore. ]

[Erik follows Charles's gaze, and something constricts in his chest as well. Unconsciously he clenches his fist, then relaxes it. Breathe. He opens his mouth to speak-- only for Bucky to arrive.

Going quiet, he lets Charles talk to the man first.]

[ Once that's settled, Charles closes the door quietly behind him. He rests his hand on the doorknob, mustering up his courage before abruptly turning his chair around. ]

No. We're - I know that being back here was against our will and you deserve better than that.

But I - [ He swallows. ] - We're still here for you.

[It both was and wasn't what Erik had been expecting. Neither of them want to look at the elephant in the room, and still neither of them are talking about it. Not really. But it colours every word and action anyway, even this, which he knows Charles would offer regardless of the circumstances. It still makes his face fall slightly.]

I -- of course. And I'm here if you need anything. [He's not certain what that could be. Erik's company was notoriously somber these days, even if he's gotten better since Cairo.]

Edited 2016-09-04 01:16 (UTC)

[ How sanitized this all seems. All the things Charles used to say so easily, constantly have fallen to the wayside. While nothing they've said so far has been cheap or negligible, it feels like they're strangers.

And maybe they are, he thinks distantly. Ten years now, ten years before. They were different people. They are different people. Charles wants to say it, I still love you, it's okay. It's not enough that Erik knows. He wants it to linger, to sink into the ground. But he's too afraid to project anything, to show it.

So he compromises. ]

I still need you. But there's time enough for anything to happen.

[Charles's words open a small crack in his exterior, exposing the vulnerability at Erik's core. It doesn't take much to knock him over, these days. How often had he found himself in tears at the mansion because he'd overheard children playing, or saw a bird land on a windowsill, or any other myriad of unrelated things that hit him in just the wrong place. His expression flickers, and he has to shut his eyes for a moment, take another breath.]

Okay. [He fists his hands on his knees, staring at them for a second before looking back up.] I'll be here. [Any thought he'd had of fleeing to recover were dissipating.] I need you too.

You have me.

[ He lapses into a quiet silence. ]

I can help you with your things. Just let me know.

[His things. He blows out a breath, looking at their shared locker. He already kept his more practical tools in the room next door, he knows. The bedroom he hadn't used since the first month on the Fleet.]

It's... mostly clothes, I think.

[ He nods. ]

You should take one of the slugs too. Two of them might be a bit much for me.

You were the one who-- [He cuts himself off, not wanting to go down that road. Erik had never had much interest in the slugs. Keeping them had been Charles's idea. He didn't want one.] Yes.

[ He smiles, despite himself. ]

It's a gift, Erik. They are quite soothing.

They don't even like me.

Oh, Erik, that's not true.

[It was, because he remembers when Charles first got them on that planet, how they curled in on themselves when he touched them and Charles reprimanded him to be more gentle, gentle amusement filtering through their shared link-- he doesn't want a slug. He's going to take one anyway because there's no other reasonable option.]

Well, it can ignore me in its box then.

Or perhaps it won't.

[ Things are different now. Charles can't be there all the time for Erik, but perhaps, just the simple presence of another living creature can help. ]

[They've entered a circular, pointless conversation. It's suffocating. He can't break it the way he used to, because that man is dead and everything he had is buried with him. Charles needs to go reconnect with the others, get the support he needs. He needs his own space.

Erik gets to his feet and opens the locker, staring critically down at their mixed items.]

It's a slug. It doesn't have interests.

[ With that, Charles just . . . stops. He doesn't berate himself over it, at least. He hangs back as Erik looks over his belongings. ]

[It's for the best, as it lets Erik's nerves settle, turn his thoughts to practicalities rather than memory. He pulls out his clothes, dropping them onto the bed. The few odds and ends he collected from elsewhere too, come out. He pauses a moment when the chessboard he'd given Charles is uncovered, before closing the locker door.]

[ Softly. ]

Do you need anything else?

Focus on yourself, Charles. [His reply is just as quiet. There's no point asking Erik what he needs.]

I'm trying. It's . . . not as easy as it sounds.

I know. [It never is, and while it may have gotten easier for them once, when they learned the value of selfishness, those are rusty memories. So much has happened. Erik doesn't blame Charles for not wanting to take stock of himself. He's the same way. It means Erik has to be the one to remind him, the same way Charles was doing with his questions.

He drops a hand to Charles's shoulder, squeezing it once.] Like you said. We have time.

[ He tilts his head at Erik before nodding, buoyed. ]

Plenty of it.

[Pulling away, Erik gathers up his things, then pauses at the box where the slugs are kept.]

I forget. You gave them names, didn't you?