this is a drabble
WHO: Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier
WHERE: Psychic Research and Detention Facility, somewhere in Colorado
WHEN: 2019
WARNINGS: mindfuckery, violence (your mileage may vary)
SUMMARY: A drabble about Erik breaking Charles out of prison and finding out that his waifu has gone grimdark.
It starts with a groan, distant and incomprehensible. That groan is followed by a bang, which is followed by a series of bangs, each growing closer. There are muffled shouts that quickly fade away, and for moments perhaps the sound of gunfire. Then silence. It passes for perhaps thirty seconds before the loudest bang of them all. The door of the cell crumples outward like tissue, and Charles cannot bring himself to smile.
The lights are dim, running on an emergency backup system after an electromagnetic pulse took out the facility's power grid. Still, there is no mistaking the man who wastes no time making his way through the doorway. He crosses the room in quick strides. The straightjacket is unfastening itself before he even has to lay a finger on it. The garment is a precaution against Charles' tampering with the helmet that's secured to his head, which would have been far more recognizable to Erik in another universe.
The same device used in another time and place to keep the telepath out of his head is used to keep Charles' powers locked away. The very concept of it only causes Erik's rage to flare, yet he still manages to be shockingly gentle as he removes the helmet from Charles' head, only to be stricken completely still before he has a moment's chance to toss the item aside.
Charles' mind is within his own in less than a second. The telepath does not try to hide his presence as he delves into Erik's psyche, reacquainting himself with every inch of it in a matter of seconds. It should feel invasive. But as Erik pulls Charles into his arms, the feeling of their minds meeting for the first time in six years is more powerful an embrace than anything physical they could share.
Erik is almost surprised by the low sigh that escapes him as Charles withdraws from his mind, at least enough to be little more than a background presence. The moment could not last forever, and this is hardly the time to be forgetting the entirety of the world around them. He turns back the way he entered, finding himself face to face with a security guard. Before Erik has a chance to react, the man is placing the barrel of his own gun in his mouth. The grey walls Charles has memorized for years are painted red.
Six years is a long time to reflect on the knowledge that Erik had been right about the nature of humanity.
But perhaps the forced sensory deprivation had taken its own toll on Charles' mind.
The older of the pair had plenty of time to muse about that later. For now, he was only focused on carrying Charles out of the detainment facility. Walls and ceilings crumbled behind him, steel support beams giving way. Several more guards made themselves known, the ones that had not put themselves in Erik's way during his initial entrance to the building. Some of them suffered similar fates to the ones who had come before them. Others were simply told in a firm, accented voice, "Forget about us." The ones left with their minds fractured but otherwise alive were the fortunate ones.
The night air was brisk and the sky was cloudless. The stars shone brightly as Charles looked on them for the first time in years. Before Erik even had a chance to form the words to instruct him to do so, Charles was wrapping his arms around his companion's shoulders to grip at him tightly. He could not resist the urge to slide his mind against Erik's once more as they rose into the air, leaving the collapsing building far below them. He was not certain if he could have completely separated his mind from Erik's at that moment even if he wanted to. He thumbed his way through Erik's memories at his leisure, and did not spare a second glance behind them.
WHERE: Psychic Research and Detention Facility, somewhere in Colorado
WHEN: 2019
WARNINGS: mindfuckery, violence (your mileage may vary)
SUMMARY: A drabble about Erik breaking Charles out of prison and finding out that his waifu has gone grimdark.
It starts with a groan, distant and incomprehensible. That groan is followed by a bang, which is followed by a series of bangs, each growing closer. There are muffled shouts that quickly fade away, and for moments perhaps the sound of gunfire. Then silence. It passes for perhaps thirty seconds before the loudest bang of them all. The door of the cell crumples outward like tissue, and Charles cannot bring himself to smile.
The lights are dim, running on an emergency backup system after an electromagnetic pulse took out the facility's power grid. Still, there is no mistaking the man who wastes no time making his way through the doorway. He crosses the room in quick strides. The straightjacket is unfastening itself before he even has to lay a finger on it. The garment is a precaution against Charles' tampering with the helmet that's secured to his head, which would have been far more recognizable to Erik in another universe.
The same device used in another time and place to keep the telepath out of his head is used to keep Charles' powers locked away. The very concept of it only causes Erik's rage to flare, yet he still manages to be shockingly gentle as he removes the helmet from Charles' head, only to be stricken completely still before he has a moment's chance to toss the item aside.
Charles' mind is within his own in less than a second. The telepath does not try to hide his presence as he delves into Erik's psyche, reacquainting himself with every inch of it in a matter of seconds. It should feel invasive. But as Erik pulls Charles into his arms, the feeling of their minds meeting for the first time in six years is more powerful an embrace than anything physical they could share.
Erik is almost surprised by the low sigh that escapes him as Charles withdraws from his mind, at least enough to be little more than a background presence. The moment could not last forever, and this is hardly the time to be forgetting the entirety of the world around them. He turns back the way he entered, finding himself face to face with a security guard. Before Erik has a chance to react, the man is placing the barrel of his own gun in his mouth. The grey walls Charles has memorized for years are painted red.
Six years is a long time to reflect on the knowledge that Erik had been right about the nature of humanity.
But perhaps the forced sensory deprivation had taken its own toll on Charles' mind.
The older of the pair had plenty of time to muse about that later. For now, he was only focused on carrying Charles out of the detainment facility. Walls and ceilings crumbled behind him, steel support beams giving way. Several more guards made themselves known, the ones that had not put themselves in Erik's way during his initial entrance to the building. Some of them suffered similar fates to the ones who had come before them. Others were simply told in a firm, accented voice, "Forget about us." The ones left with their minds fractured but otherwise alive were the fortunate ones.
The night air was brisk and the sky was cloudless. The stars shone brightly as Charles looked on them for the first time in years. Before Erik even had a chance to form the words to instruct him to do so, Charles was wrapping his arms around his companion's shoulders to grip at him tightly. He could not resist the urge to slide his mind against Erik's once more as they rose into the air, leaving the collapsing building far below them. He was not certain if he could have completely separated his mind from Erik's at that moment even if he wanted to. He thumbed his way through Erik's memories at his leisure, and did not spare a second glance behind them.