driftfleet | (no subject)

[ Charles nods, but there's something . . . dismissive about the movement. Like he's heard Erik's words but he's not giving it much thought. Charles wants to retreat, but he forces himself to give this due consideration. ]

And you are. You can be. I wouldn't shut you out.

[ But haven't you already? a traitorous thought rings in his mind. He knows he has, to some degree. He can't do it again with Erik. Charles trusts Erik. Cares about him. More than that, clearly.

But he knows better to believe in Erik. Especially since Erik himself is still learning to trust and believe in himself. ]

[Erik doubts Charles would shut anyone out. It still forms a dim worry deep in his mind. Not shutting someone out isn't the same as inviting them in, however. Erik can see the slight pulling back, the distance reemerging. It prompts him to ask:]

Why did you ask me?

Because I wanted to know.

[ He wanted Erik to be a part of his life. That hasn't changed. Or . . . probably cannot change. It's been tied to his being for too long. ]

Because there are things I want.

Have you ever read the story of Pinocchio?

[Erik nods slowly, knowing what a decisive step it is for Charles to say what he wants. It has happened only rarely before... and it's more heartening that Erik was able to easily give his answer.]

A long time ago.

There's a character, Jiminy Cricket. He comes to Pinocchio to help him find himself, to become real.

Pinocchio kills him within the first few pages of his entrance. But Jiminy comes back. He stays. He helps. And he's ultimately forgotten when Pinocchio gets his wish.

[The allegory is clear. Erik's heart squeezes, and he remembers another time and place, where he'd told Charles not to stay if Erik was hurting him.]

That's not what you are.

Isn't it? Deep down in my bones, this is who I am. This is who the future wanted me to be. There was never any grand speech about any kind of personal fulfillment. Just the image of a brighter future for mutants.

[ He exhales, collecting his thoughts. ]

I'm not saying you hurt me. I'm not even blaming you. I just fooled myself into thinking otherwise.

[Erik stares at him for a long moment, before speaking.]

Charles, I have the utmost respect for you. You've done more for me, and for mutants, than could ever be expected or asked for. I know how important that future is to you. I know what you've given up to get there.

But that's bullshit.

I beg your pardon.

[Forgive him for his factory worker mouth. He sighs, tapping the pen against his leg.]

You've taken what your future self told you to be the sum of all parts, that nothing further exists than what he told you. He was living through the end of the world, from what you've said. He told you what you needed to hear in that moment. Not in this moment, or any other time.

You say that this is what the future wanted you to be. I shouldn't have to remind you that that future changed. You're more than just someone who helps, or a leader for those who have nothing else. You're a man with a heart, a mutant with a soul. You love and you care and you feel pain.

Of course I hurt you. Saying otherwise might help how it feels; I don't know. But saying you fooled yourself into those feelings does you a disservice. You, as someone who deserves just as much personal fulfilment as anyone else.

I wasn't drawn to you back when we met because I wanted your help, even if you've given it to me over and over. I wanted to be near you. And that hasn't changed.

[ Charles imagines his face has gone white. He certainly feels like he's dangling off a cliff and one precise word could make or break him. I want to come home. I wanted to be near you. The words he wanted to hear feel unreal, almost too good to be true and he doesn't want to repeat the pattern. But Charles can't deny the impact of them either. ]

No. But everything else has.

[Erik can feel his heart thundering louder in his ears, his fingers twitch in his lap. It's been like circling around a whirlpool, trying to skirt the edges without plunging into the swirling vortex in the middle. There's an inevitability to it, terrifying and attractive all at once.

He puts the notepad and pen aside, getting to his feet. He steps up next to Charles's chair.]

Some things changed. A lot of them. [A little quieter.] But not everything.

[Anything he could say next gets stuck in his throat, a knot of emotions twisting in his stomach. Words always prove to be hard to catch, like smoke on the breeze.

Instead, he leans forward and wraps his arms around Charles, hugging him.]

[ Charles briefly freezes, caught off guard. He can scarcely breathe before his hands reach out to grasp Erik's shoulders. They're shaking. Or perhaps he's shaking. He hears a sob and it takes him a moment to realize that's his voice. ]

[Erik feels the shudder in Charles's body and tightens his grip, tears blurring his own eyes before he shuts them. He lets out a shaky breath and his heart aches with it, with all the loss and love and fear that line the fractures there.]

[ Charles moves his hand to brush Erik's tears away, out of habit. ]

Oh, Erik.

[He just shakes his head slightly. Tears are nothing; he's used to them now. It's the contact after so long being restrained and doubtful that pierces him through. Erik's fingers curl against Charles's back.]

[ Charles smiles through his own tears. ]

Thank you.

[He reaches up haltingly to touch Charles's hand.]

You as well.

[ He leans against that quietly. ]

[He feels like he needs to catch his breath, almost, settle the whirling thoughts and emotions inside him. For a moment, Erik leans in and presses his lips to Charles's temple (it's odd not to feel anything but skin there he thinks distantly), an old gesture. Then he draws back, finally.]

[ Charles blinks, his hand almost going up to his forehead before he drops it awkwardly. ]

I . . . was afraid that everything changed. That it had been on me for believing that it wouldn't.

[Erik knows that kind of feeling intimately. He still hates himself for believing things would be all right in Poland, with his family. For hoping. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right," he'd told Magda, arm around her shoulders as they watched Nina playing in the yard with her 'friends'. Foolishness.

He's quiet when he replies, though he stays standing next to Charles rather than sit back down.]

You had no reason to believe otherwise, back then. ...Neither of us did. [It's the Fleet he means, because they both know what happened without those memories in 1973.] The things that did change were... significant.

[Even if feelings like love remained the same, the prism around them had altered, changing the view of it. Other things took over, became bigger priorities. Like a kaleidoscope, the truth of the thing distorted, turning into another picture.]

Ten years before, we went through something similar.

[ After all, back then, it had only been Cuba looming over their heads. Similar vows. They had overcome it then. ]

The changes are significant. But I don't want to change - change this.

[They had forgotten then too. Those memories from the library evaporated like steam, leaving them only with mysterious scars that should have prompted more questions. But those memories had been given back, along with others. To have it happen yet again is twisted in the extreme.

Erik turns the rings on his fingers, expending some fretful energy.]

I don't either. But it's... not easy for me to think about. [Even now it caught him mostly unawares, and he's had only furtive thoughts before then, quickly chased away by guilt and other dark feelings. He looks up again.] I remembered the dream, though. That nightmare.

[ Charles shakes his head. He wouldn't - and didn't expect Erik to think about it. Not this soon. It was Charles' hill to climb and he thought he had made steps to rectify that. Or perhaps it's not something he can fully reconcile on his own, no matter what he tells himself.

He had asked Erik that question because everything that they had been . . . was cast in doubt. Some of those had faded, though Charles will wait and see how long it lasts. I never left he had yelled at Erik, the hysteria colouring his voice. He never leaves. Maybe it's time that he did that. Or at least made some decisions instead of waiting and hoping. ]

No. And it wouldn't be. But I also meant what I said. That there are things I want and . . . I'll try my best to get them on my own terms. This isn't an ultimatum - or an ending.

But I want to wake up in the morning and know someone's there instead of hoping they will be.