driftfleet | (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

[No more hesitation. She nearly falls into that hug, and follows through to climbing into his lap as she's done before, curling up tight against him.]

I'm glad you're back even if I shouldn't be.

[He's not supposed to go where she and Winter can't watch his back.]

[ Charles brushes his thumb against her cheek. ]

There's nothing wrong with that.

It's not kind or generous to wish people were away from where they want to be.

[She curls her fingers into his shirt, like that's going to keep him from going away again. I love you, Charles. You scared the hell out of me. Not his fault, she knows that.]

Was it like what happened to Winter? Were they... updating you? [Like a fucking computer.]

[ He nods carefully. ]

I'm ten years older. With a new set of memories and experiences.

Ten years. [That's... wow. She probably doesn't have even ten years worth of coherent memories.]

Were they a good ten years?

They were . . . much better than I thought they would be.

[ The school began without too many hitches. Students filled the corridors once more, not torn away by a foreign war. ]

That's... good? [Anything's better than being dead, for example. But that doesn't mean it's the same as good.]

Will you tell me about it? [Maybe not today if he's tired, but some time.]

Maybe later.

[ He smiles tiredly. ] I don't think I could do it right now.

It's okay. I didn't mean you had to now anyway.

[She should probably let him get some rest, really.]

I'm gonna make you a hat. So your head doesn't get cold.

My -- Ah.

[ He touches it, faintly self-conscious. ] I'm sure it won't be that bad.

It looks fine. You don't have dents in your head or anything.

[But she does miss his hair. Charles had very pretty hair.]

Is it gonna grow back?

[ Charles shakes his head, still smiling. ]

I very much doubt it.

Oh. That sucks.

[Well, she finished Erik's hat recently. So she'll definitely make one for Charles next.

She offers him a teasing little smile.]

Everyone I knew who shaved their head or whatever was mobile or regular infantry. Get a couple tattoos and everyone's gonna think you're one scary motherfucker.

I'll certainly consider it.

[ Because Charles doesn't want anyone to know the story of how they laid him out on that stone table, when En-Sabah-Nur's mind and soul began invading him, how he tried to fight and it meant nothing. ]

Besides, it wouldn't fit with my image as a kindly professor.

Bet you get called the hot professor more than the kindly one. [She's mostly teasing.]

I try not to encourage it.

[ And he highly doubts they'll do it anymore. ]

Well yeah, of course not. You're a good guy. [And if he actually encouraged that? It would be creepy. But otherwise it's just funny.

She rubs the fabric of his shirt between her fingers. Quietly:] On a scale of not dumb to really, really dumb, how dumb is it to ask if you're okay?

I don't think it's dumb at all.

I'm all right on my part, Wrath. Truly.

Okay. [You better not be bullshitting her, Charles Xavier, or you are in big trouble.

Thigh other than the hair, Charles doesn't look sop bad. She's just worried because... Well.

Even quieter, just for Charles to hear:] Erik looks like shit.

[And she has a hard time believing that Erik could be in bad shape and Charles would be a hundred percent fine.]

[ His throat catches. Talking about Erik still felt a little raw. ]

He's . . . grieving. Give him some time.

Are you guys okay? [Is her favorite ship in trouble? Oh no...]

Wrath, we're not -- [ He bites it off, looking away. ] No.

I'm sorry.

[She's going to have to think about this. And probably talk to Winter. He's way smarter than she is.

She curls an arm around Charles in a half hug.]

[ That disarms him quietly, and he wipes his face quickly. It's not over and his feelings haven't changed but there were little hurts peppered across his skin that Charles did not want to give a name for. Instead he just leans into her, words unspoken. ]

[Whispers:] it's okay if you're not okay, Charles. I've got your back. So does Winter. [She is confident in that.] We love you.

[As much as people fucked up the way they are fucked up can.]

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