markedformore | (no subject)

Entry tags:

m!ways

(no subject)

Shaw's got friends...

It echoes in his mind, even as he debates the merit of staying versus leaving. He has the information he needs, but Erik finds himself caught in a constant loop that seems to highlight what will happen to him if he strikes off on his own. He will pursue Shaw and then what? He's a mutant like Erik (like Charles) and he has mutant friends who can cut inside his mind and tear it to shreds.

Still, what good will a pacifist telepath and his teenaged sister do?

The CIA is hapless, as well, confused by the power that Shaw wields. So it is a difficult decision and one that he cannot make so easily. He retreats to his bedroom and lies on the uncomfortable bed, seeking out Charles with his mind as if needing that constant baseline and regular weight in his mind, even if he has not yet made a choice as to whether he will stay or go.

Are you awake?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Erik toys with the notion of telling Charles to look and see. In fact, he goes so far as to send the wave out to him. "For all I know, you've already seen all the way inside and are acting like a naive and blushing schoolgirl for my sake. I'm not ashamed, Charles, not of anything I am. So, look."

Charles laughs in surprise at that wave and invitation as he leans forward to close the distance between them, reaching his mind out to Erik at the same time.

He's been craving intimacy with Erik, but didn't see a way in and shows Erik the confusion he's created,

"There you go underestimating me again and I don't say things I don't mean. Which can be complicated."

Erik arches a brow teasingly at Charles. "I'm letting you in, Charles. I'm opening the door and letting you in, just mind your feet," he says evenly. "I don't do well with intruders tracking in mud."

"I'm always neat,"

Then he follows the invitation into Erik's mind as he allows Erik to see his own feelings; desire for touch, that above all.

Erik feels as though he's been struck in the face by the revelation. The unrest makes sense, now, and Erik wonders if it's because of the government installation. He chides Charles with a low clucking of his tongue as he leans forward and shifts his fingers over his neck, up his jaw, carding through his hair, gripping it until it hurts. "What? This?"

He gasps at the touch, shifting into Erik's hand as he thinks, No, you, you're rather bad for my balance.

Erik eases back, his fingers sliding away (though they drift and touch for a moment) and as he picks up his glass, it's like it never happened. Erik builds a foundation over his humiliation and the error of his gesture. "I see," he notes evenly. "Then you should find level ground."

The pulling back is unexpected and Charles feels lost before he senses Erik's feelings. He takes a long drink before leaning forward, his mind still open to allow Erik to feel his desire for more.

Then he carefully sets the drink down and places a hand on Erik's knee, "No, I'd rather not."

It's unexpected and Erik isn't sure what to make of it. In fact, he's rather wary of such gestures and now that the control has been taken from his hands, he finds himself doing little more than wanting. "It's one more way I could be shunned, doing this. One more triangle."

"Opening yourself up to anyone is a risk, but the rewards can be great. And you're not alone in anything we do,"

Charles is starting to get impatient with how Erik doesn't grasp that he's not alone, but he knows it will take time. This is just a moment when he feels like every second is important and he'd rather not wait. Erik does everything his way and Charles doesn't know what works best for him, but he will understand.

As if a switch has been flicked, Charles' words settle and pull a smile from Erik. He still feels fear and worry, still feels unsure, but there is a quip that he cannot avoid. "Well, you can be alone in some of it. Not as fun, though."

"No, I've found much of life is better with company," The quip is a sign of hope and Charles briefly smiles before thinking in a calm voice that has ripples of his want and confusion it.

I meant that about you getting me off balance. All the things I think I know of what to expect don't work with you. I like that.

"Well, yes, better," he drawls. "Still, not impossible when done alone," he reiterates his point, breathing in sharply when he feels Charles' voice in his head once more. It's because I've been torn apart, my mind invaded and my body ripped from me so that I could be reassembled in my creator's image. That's why.

"No, few things are impossible," Erik's thought is painful, but logical, he hates how Schmidt defines and shapes Erik.

He doesn't want to move his hand but he could do with a drink, his hand stays until he knows that there might be another moment of touch.

Yet you're not in his image or else you would have been on that ship working for him. Instead you are yourself, Erik Lensherr.

He killed my mother. No matter how much I agree on any of his points, he took away the thing I loved most. Erik is strong and stalwart, now, but he finds that he leans into Charles' touch, turning his head away to hide the fact that his eyes are brimming with tears.

Charles reaches his hand up to turn Erik's face towards him and says quietly,

"You don't have to hide from me. I won't leave."

"I'd rather you not see me at my weakest," Erik replies hoarsely, though he goes with the touch, turning his face back to Charles. He licks his lips -- chapped and pink as they are -- and composes himself with a steadying breath. Now, it's as if there is no evidence of a trauma at all.

The way Erik can smooth out his pain hurts Charles to see, that he's so used to pushing it under.

For all that its gone from Erik's face, its still reflected in Charles' eyes and emotions and with his thumb, strokes from the corner of Erik's eye to his temple,

"Grieving isn't a weakness, it's a part of the you the same as your anger and your sharp mind. I'd like to know all of you."

"I thought you did," is Erik's mild reply, given that Charles seemed so intent on proclaiming that everything there was to know about him had been laid bare for him to read with his talents. The touch is soft, but welcome. It speaks of a kind of serenity he has not experienced in decades.

"I know many things but not everything and probably never will,"

He smiles as he this time follows the line of Erik's eyebrow to his ear.

Erik notes the path of Charles' gaze, surprised and curious as to where he is looking. He gives a short laugh when he sees it finish on his ear. "You did say you knew everything about me. Was that a lie, dear Charles?"

"I know what you've done and what you consider defines you, but no, I don't know everything about you. It was foolish of me to say that but not a lie. I do try to say what I feel is true, its just not always right,"

Charles looks down as he felt as if he did understand much of Erik but not all of him, that takes time.

Erik takes a slow and steadying breath, nodding his head when Charles' words seem to make enough sense that he can truly understand them. "Well, then, if you really are inclined to know everything about me, you can look. I can't promise that you'll like what you find, but it's better you know my intentions in regards to this facility and this agency."

And Shaw.

"May I show you some of why I feel as I do? I don't wish to overwhelm you again but sometimes sharing a memory or an emotion is simpler than speaking. That's how I learned so much of you, your memories are vivid and potent and..,"

He meets Erik's gaze again and shifts his hand to find a tiny scar on Erik's face.

"That's why I feel I do know parts of you."

Erik's lids flutter rapidly at the touch. He breathes in and out desperately to find some steadiness and when he eventually claims that calm centre, he merely nods his head, a gesture of permission given. "Yes. Show me."