Erik Lehnsherr (
markedformore) wrote2014-10-04 03:07 pm
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One of Erik's steady routines has become a drink at eight PM, after dinner, at the closest bar to his apartment. Since Neil has re-opened his bar, he's transferred his patronage there, given his loyalty to the man (or perhaps it's merely a sense of shared commiseration given their last shared home). Tonight is no different. At eight, he's found his way to the bar and has ordered himself a beer, choosing to drink light tonight. It's become a respite for his thoughts and with Charles taking his serum, those thoughts have free reign in a way they rarely have since the island.
There, he had no worry of Charles diving into his mind to search and find the secrets he's been shielding (from what he had done when sent back to that camp, how he had nearly jumped off a building, his feelings for Rogue and much deeper than that, much deeper than all of it, his feelings when it comes to Charles). It's been frustrating to keep those thoughts locked up, knowing that only shielding can keep Charles out, but with the serum at play, he needs not worry about that.
It's why he feels capable of having a second, then a third beer, scoffing wryly as he thinks of the ones they'd shared on the road during their recruitments.
Time's passed a great deal for him and doubly so for Charles.
The world is no longer what it used to be.
There, he had no worry of Charles diving into his mind to search and find the secrets he's been shielding (from what he had done when sent back to that camp, how he had nearly jumped off a building, his feelings for Rogue and much deeper than that, much deeper than all of it, his feelings when it comes to Charles). It's been frustrating to keep those thoughts locked up, knowing that only shielding can keep Charles out, but with the serum at play, he needs not worry about that.
It's why he feels capable of having a second, then a third beer, scoffing wryly as he thinks of the ones they'd shared on the road during their recruitments.
Time's passed a great deal for him and doubly so for Charles.
The world is no longer what it used to be.
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There were five doses left. Or there had been, the previous night. He injected one, perhaps to spite Erik and all his petty judgement. He injected one to drown out the noise of his students, though the day was Saturday and he had no reason to be on campus. He took the serum and spent the day drinking, though he'd thought he was beyond all this. He'd let go of his past, had seen the call for peace in the future, but he could already feel himself pissing it all away.
Fixing the broken pieces of himself wasn't as simple as he'd hoped.
He'd come to this place, despite knowing that this dosage wouldn't last much longer, scaling the steps heavily and saddling up to the bar.
"Scotch, neat," he said, his shoulders flagging when his focus shifted to his left, bringing Erik into focus.
"Bugger."
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Even if Erik would have done anything in his power to make Charles feel this way, but in the chair.
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In the back of his mind, he heard a faint whisper, but it was so distant, so unintelligible, it was easy to pass off as a trick of his imagination.
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Damn.
Sliding off his stool, he pushed to his feet, wobbling almost immediately, his hand darting out to catch himself on the edge of the bar.
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He was struck, unprepared, by Erik's intense concern. Concern for him. His own mind surged against it, fighting it, unwilling to believe it. Erik had proved irrevocably that he cared very little for their friendship, when he'd gone away, or so Charles had convinced himself.
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And now, with his powers returning like a surging tide, Erik's mind was a nearly impossible temptation. It had been a decade since they'd last allowed themselves that sort of intimacy, beyond those few moments on the beach months ago.
"I think it's best if I went home."
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And with the thoughts came a surge of emotion. Erik's mind, the bright burn of it, of regret and frustration and need. There were other thoughts, too. Voices. Patrons from the bar. But above all, there was Erik.
Bloody hell.
"Erik. You might want to be more careful, at the moment," he warned, his fingertip briefly touching his temple. "I'm having a bit of trouble controlling it."
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No, I don't suppose you do. Right, out of here. Left on Scoone.
He considered apologizing, but was either too stubborn, or thought it unnecessary. For them, it was perhaps too late for apologies.
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"I think you might be carrying me, in a moment," he admitted, his feet beginning to drag.
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"Is this all right?" he asks, touching a hand to the wheel.
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And that low buzz of desire was becoming more difficult to ignore.
"Yes, yes it's fine," he said, unsure of how to deal with Erik's concern. His care. His friendship. It was all right there, as if it had never left.
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There was more, but he wouldn't be taking it. Not now. He would be keeping it-- for emergency, he'd tell himself. But he was done with chemically induced silence, for awhile.
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"And you seemed happy. I suppose I never understood how you could be, without the thing that made you special, different; better."
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It was through his actions that Charles believed he could rise above the fear and distrust that plagued so many. The violence and hatred that caused so much misunderstanding between their people. So much death. They needed to become the better men through their actions, not because of their powers.
"And you? I suppose I'm to assume you weren't happy in that place."
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"No," he says. "I wasn't. I was weak and powerless and lonely. And you are better," Erik insists. "Not only for your powers, but including them. You're smart and clever and resourceful and wise and kind," he says each word like they are targeted weapons themselves. "And your capacity of power is incredible. You saved me, didn't you?"
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"I thought I'd made a mistake, in trusting in you. I've spent the last ten bloody years wanting you to be a monster. It was easier, believing that. In fact, I did very little besides what was easy, for all those years. I'm not inherently better, Erik. We're both more than capable of making bad choices."
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There is a thread of desperation in his voice, having not realized how much he would miss Charles' affections and friendships until they were gone.
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From the pain they'd caused each other.
But instead, he rested his hands in his lap, leaving Erik's mind without complaint, as the door was shut to him. "Yes, I think it's time we did," he said, his voice suddenly rough with emotion he would've rather kept hidden.