Old Habits
Title: Old Habits 4
Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Not much.
Summary: Raven calls Charles for help, when Erik gets captured.
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: Fourth in a series of ten generally H/C themed ficlits following Charles and Erik for ~ fifteen years after First Class. Set around 2 years after FC.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3
AN: The Darwin and Havoc bit is because when I dragged my brothers to X-men, one of them, knowing nothing about the universe, or the characters, or really even what the movie was, thought it was glaringly obvious that Darwin and Havoc were a couple. He was pissed when they killed Darwin...and then I informed him that the whole movie was about an even more glaringly obvious couple.
This chapter and the next are darker, more in depth with character, and shorter. But the one after is longer, set somewhat later, and a lot more...well, fluffy.
Raven is the one who calls him, upset, and worried, and not really knowing who else Erik can trust. It’s been months since he’s even heard from Eric, and two years since he’s seen the other mutant. And apparently he’s been getting himself into trouble, as Raven is calling to ask if he can get Erik out of the government test facility he’s been put in.
She’s right to be worried. Charles knows how upset Erik must be, how traumatic that would be for him. Charles flies to Nevada immediately, makes all the guards to go sleep, finds his old friend sitting in a plastic cell, miserable, terrified, and so angry Charles can’t even touch his mind, has to put up shields against it.
Erik doesn’t even seem to notice here’s there, until Charles unlocks the door to the cell. Then he looks up, slowly, and seems completely lost for a moment, before recognition lit his face. Standing, he walked out with Charles, silent, hand gripping Charles’s shoulder so hard Charles was sure it would leave bruises.
Even through his shields, Charles can feel the anger, the fury, the pain rising, becoming a maelstrom of misery and hate. He tells Scott to take off, get far away, forces all the men who were guarding the facility to flee, and takes Erik’s hand. Erik stares down at him, then grips, hard, tears staring to roll down his face. Charles slides onto the ground, pulling, until Erik follows him, sitting, burying his head in Charles’s chest, sobbing, as everything metal anywhere close gets ripped up, pounded, smashed, torn apart.
Charles realized, dimly, that again, he was going to end up being carried, as the wheelchair had entered the storm of metal flying about. That was getting rather old.
Erik pounded the hard, dry, rocky ground, Charles gripped his hands wrists, “stop, stop it. You’ll hurt yourself.”
A miserable, hateful laugh, “you made them leave, didn’t you?”
“That facility wasn’t just experiments. Most of the people were doctors. Real, good, well-meaning doctors.”
“Then you should have let them go.”
“I do not pretend to have the qualifications to know who should live and who should die.”
“They should have died.”
The destruction was staring to subside, bits of detritus falling from the sky. Erik didn’t seem to be paying much attention to where anything landed, Charles buried his face in the top of his friend’s head, shielding him as best he could. Slowly, all the twisted, mangled scraps of metal fell to the earth, only a couple striking them, and nothing too big.
Everything eventually stilled, there was virtually nothing left of the facility. Charles sighed, and didn’t move, only sliding his hand up to start gently smoothing Erik’s hair, as the other man cried. The anger was fading, now, leaving bitter hate, and sickening violation.
Erik stood, stumbled a few feet away, and threw up.
Charles watched, worried, and saddened. Eventually Erik came back, and sat down, trembling, but in control of himself once more, “I don’t feel well.”
“I’m sorry.”
Erik leaned against him, “who called you?”
“Raven. She was worried.”
“Do you think she knew?”
“No. I don’t think she really even knew about that sort of thing. She wouldn’t have seen anything but what we showed. I mean, she never noticed Darwin and Havoc.”
“They were a bit more subtle. And by a bit, I mean a lot.”
Erik nodded, sighing. He was still shaking.
“Charles?”
“Yes?”
“I wish they hadn’t started this. I don’t like it.”
“Then stop. The only way the cycle stop is if someone is the better man. And I know you have it in you to be that man.”
“I don’t. You do, Charles. You’ve never known the same kind of hate.”
“I have.”
“Not in the same way.”
“No,” agreed Charles, sadly, “no, not in the same way.”
“I envy you, the ability to forgive.”
“I’m sorry. I am so very, very sorry.”
Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: Not much.
Summary: Raven calls Charles for help, when Erik gets captured.
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Feedback: Reviews and flames are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
Notes: Fourth in a series of ten generally H/C themed ficlits following Charles and Erik for ~ fifteen years after First Class. Set around 2 years after FC.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3
AN: The Darwin and Havoc bit is because when I dragged my brothers to X-men, one of them, knowing nothing about the universe, or the characters, or really even what the movie was, thought it was glaringly obvious that Darwin and Havoc were a couple. He was pissed when they killed Darwin...and then I informed him that the whole movie was about an even more glaringly obvious couple.
This chapter and the next are darker, more in depth with character, and shorter. But the one after is longer, set somewhat later, and a lot more...well, fluffy.
Raven is the one who calls him, upset, and worried, and not really knowing who else Erik can trust. It’s been months since he’s even heard from Eric, and two years since he’s seen the other mutant. And apparently he’s been getting himself into trouble, as Raven is calling to ask if he can get Erik out of the government test facility he’s been put in.
She’s right to be worried. Charles knows how upset Erik must be, how traumatic that would be for him. Charles flies to Nevada immediately, makes all the guards to go sleep, finds his old friend sitting in a plastic cell, miserable, terrified, and so angry Charles can’t even touch his mind, has to put up shields against it.
Erik doesn’t even seem to notice here’s there, until Charles unlocks the door to the cell. Then he looks up, slowly, and seems completely lost for a moment, before recognition lit his face. Standing, he walked out with Charles, silent, hand gripping Charles’s shoulder so hard Charles was sure it would leave bruises.
Even through his shields, Charles can feel the anger, the fury, the pain rising, becoming a maelstrom of misery and hate. He tells Scott to take off, get far away, forces all the men who were guarding the facility to flee, and takes Erik’s hand. Erik stares down at him, then grips, hard, tears staring to roll down his face. Charles slides onto the ground, pulling, until Erik follows him, sitting, burying his head in Charles’s chest, sobbing, as everything metal anywhere close gets ripped up, pounded, smashed, torn apart.
Charles realized, dimly, that again, he was going to end up being carried, as the wheelchair had entered the storm of metal flying about. That was getting rather old.
Erik pounded the hard, dry, rocky ground, Charles gripped his hands wrists, “stop, stop it. You’ll hurt yourself.”
A miserable, hateful laugh, “you made them leave, didn’t you?”
“That facility wasn’t just experiments. Most of the people were doctors. Real, good, well-meaning doctors.”
“Then you should have let them go.”
“I do not pretend to have the qualifications to know who should live and who should die.”
“They should have died.”
The destruction was staring to subside, bits of detritus falling from the sky. Erik didn’t seem to be paying much attention to where anything landed, Charles buried his face in the top of his friend’s head, shielding him as best he could. Slowly, all the twisted, mangled scraps of metal fell to the earth, only a couple striking them, and nothing too big.
Everything eventually stilled, there was virtually nothing left of the facility. Charles sighed, and didn’t move, only sliding his hand up to start gently smoothing Erik’s hair, as the other man cried. The anger was fading, now, leaving bitter hate, and sickening violation.
Erik stood, stumbled a few feet away, and threw up.
Charles watched, worried, and saddened. Eventually Erik came back, and sat down, trembling, but in control of himself once more, “I don’t feel well.”
“I’m sorry.”
Erik leaned against him, “who called you?”
“Raven. She was worried.”
“Do you think she knew?”
“No. I don’t think she really even knew about that sort of thing. She wouldn’t have seen anything but what we showed. I mean, she never noticed Darwin and Havoc.”
“They were a bit more subtle. And by a bit, I mean a lot.”
Erik nodded, sighing. He was still shaking.
“Charles?”
“Yes?”
“I wish they hadn’t started this. I don’t like it.”
“Then stop. The only way the cycle stop is if someone is the better man. And I know you have it in you to be that man.”
“I don’t. You do, Charles. You’ve never known the same kind of hate.”
“I have.”
“Not in the same way.”
“No,” agreed Charles, sadly, “no, not in the same way.”
“I envy you, the ability to forgive.”
“I’m sorry. I am so very, very sorry.”