FIC: Remnants and Fragments
Title: Remnants and Fragments
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: This Chapter: M for strong, sexual content
Warnings: No warnings, save that this is a table prompt thing, so it'll be long. Warnings will be posted according to said prompt.
Summary: "First". Charles stretches his powers, Erik gives him a run for his money.
Author's Notes: This one took some odd twists along the way, but ultimately, I really liked the ending! And this one actually has like...sex in it and stuff. Wootwoot. Porn with a plot ^_^
Additional Note/Dedication: This is for all of the lovely readers of the fanfiction here who adore bamf!Charles and when he and Erik square off with no real clear winner.
Erik felt like if he didn't move, didn't do something, than Charles's eyes would make him implode into brilliant blue flames. The gaze was almost angry, far more heated than Erik could ever remember the telepath appearing. Erik swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, and struggled not only to gain his footing, but also to remove the rage that followed the loss of control.
To be fair, it had been Erik's idea to force Charles into stretching his powers and seeing how far he could push it.
"It's not challenging to me if you simply don't fight back," Charles pointed out warily, and his face was tight with concentration.
Erik grit his teeth against the harsh, mental hold that Charles had over him. It was all he could do not to summon the closest metal object and slam it into the telepath's skull.
"I don't want to hurt you."
Charles snorted, a smug sound that unexpectedly grated on Erik's already-wrecked nerves. "Isn't that the point? I'm hardly without my own defenses."
Erik squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to move against Charles's hold. He felt his fingers move briefly, and then they froze again.
Charles tutted at him, slowly approaching Erik once more. "There's a great many things I could force you to do, my friend." His eyes were angrier now, pleading, desperate. "I suggest you defend yourself."
Charles's proximity made Erik feel slightly dizzy, and not entirely sure what the mind reader was so bloody guilty-looking. The younger man's face was pale and his lips were set in a line.
Erik glared, and felt his gut twist when Charles stepped directly into Erik's space, their noses nearly touching.
"Stop me, Erik," Charles said lowly. "This is as much training for me as it is you."
Erik tried harder for his stronger, right hand and felt little satisfaction when Charles's lips tightened and sweat trickled down his face. He could smell the concentration rolling of Charles in waves.
Charles leaned to Erik's ear. "Harder, my friend."
Erik hissed against it, finally feeling his hands ball into his fists. Charles being so close shot straight to his lower belly, curling in waves of something unnamable and vicious. Charles let out a sharp intake of breath, and Erik realized it was because the band of Charles's metal watch had constricted around his wrist.
He wouldn't have noticed it at all if Charles's hand hadn't been at his temple. As it was though, Charles's face toughened and the fingers of his right hand pressed harder at his skin. The pale flesh of his hand began to turn slightly red with the lack of blood flowing to his hand.
Erik felt one of his hands finally release slightly; it was his left-he'd have to make do. Charles was firmly entrenched in his head; he'd have to be careful if he was going to strike.
Charles's eyes narrowed and glinted; something akin to curiosity flashed in his features, but it was gone in an instant. His eyes dropped to Erik's hand, as if to speculate its potential energy and whether it could shift to kinetic.
Which was all very well, save that Charles was inspecting Erik's right hand.
And that very well explained how the copper-nickel chain from the curtains now quietly drifted like a gravity-defying snake through the air with very little of Charles's knowledge.
"Surely you don't think I'm that stupid?" Charles asked with a frown, as if following the path along in Erik's mind.
Erik wanted to reply, should've replied, but Charles still held his body in an icy grip, save the left fingers that sputtered and shook uselessly. His left hand still did its work, the chain was still moving without sound, and Erik managed to narrow his gaze at Charles, a touch of insolence leaning into the stare.
Charles raised an eyebrow, his fingers pressed tight against his temple. "You're up to something," he said suddenly, and lost his concentration when the chain wrapped itself around Charles's right wrist, and added to the blood constriction of his watch.
Erik felt his arms finally-finally-come free, and he used the chain to wrap around Charles's wrist further, melding with his watch and jerking the bloody hand down. Real anger crossed Charles's face, and he projected enough that Erik caught the self-disgust that he'd lost it at all.
But Charles's hands were behind his back now, wrapped tightly in metal and Erik could finally move again.
It was Erik's turn to be smug, and he made a small tutting sound. "Those are quite powerful defenses," he said dryly, and didn't miss the string of swear words as Charles squeezed his eyes shut in concentration.
Erik kneeled in front of him. "A draw, friend?"
Charles snorted suddenly; a self-deprecating sound that was so unlike him that Erik raised an eyebrow. "I'm hardly finished."
Erik could almost hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice and he could sense the lack of concentrated iron and copper in Charles's hands from where the blood had nearly stopped flowing. Erik didn't relent; Charles wouldn't if given the choice. They could only really train with each other like this; none of the kids would've lasted a minute as it was.
"I suggest you make something happen, Charles, if you're going to save your hands." To prove his point, Erik ruthlessly tightened the metal further.
Charles hissed in real pain, but his eyes didn't open. It was when they did that Erik felt Charles slip effortlessly back into his head, and seize control once more. Erik couldn't even make a sound in surprise.
"Unwind the metal about my wrists, Erik," Charles said out loud, as if saying it in Erik's mind was too much for him right now.
Erik watched his hand come up and unwind the metals. His mind screamed not to, pleaded not to. Charles brought his hands up, rubbing the blood back into them. The heady smell of copper and iron flooded Erik's senses, yet he still couldn't make a sound as Charles raised an eyebrow at the sudden spike of want, of need. It was unexpected, though unsurprising all the same that different concentrations of metals in the blood would affect Erik, just as differently projected emotions affected Charles.
Charles inched closer to Erik, waving a hand in front of his face as if to test the hold he had. It was stronger than the first one; Erik glared as best he could, and projected his rage as loudly as possible.
Charles did wince a little at that. "You're howling in my head, Erik."
Charles rather imagined if Erik could spit at him, he would have.
"That's hardly nice," Charles admonished him, and calmed Erik's racing pulse. "There's far nicer things I could do for you in this position," he continued affably, and when Erik's arousal spiked him again, it was confirmation and guilt and disgust and too many other complexes to name.
Don't do this, Charles, don't, I'll hurt you, don't do this-
There was no please, something that didn't go unknown on either of their parts, and Charles leaned closer, so close that Erik felt the scent of Charles's herbal shampoo drifting and overpowering his senses. The arousal and desire became a desperate, intense bubble of pressure between them.
Charles looked pleadingly at Erik now. Break this hold, Erik. Break it.
Erik's eyes were the only part that moved.
Erik, break this before I break us both, for god's sake; don't let me do this.
It made sense now, Charles's guilty look from earlier. Whether Erik kissed Charles on his own, he didn't know, but once his lips met the other man's, the hold on his body weakened enough, and Erik wrapped the chain around Charles's wrists again. He thought he could feel chafed skin and perhaps a bit of warm wetness there.
When he brought his hand back up, there was the stench of copper and iron, of little bits of nickel, all mixed within the bright red. Charles was still kissing him though, and Erik kept his hold on Charles's wrists, kneading the sensitive, pained skin and swallowing the whimpered cry that left Charles's mouth.
Charles pressed against him, what part he could with his hands behind his back, and Erik's arms were wrapped powerfully around him now, holding his wrists at such a downward angle that he thought his shoulder might pop from their sockets. But he didn't care, the desire crashed over him in waves, he could barely keep his thoughts to himself, couldn't stop from bleeding the need into Erik's mind, that blindly horrible need that made him hard and aching and swollen.
Erik, don't make me stop-
Erik kissed him harder in response, tongue drawing out to lick at Charles's lips with not a hint of experience or a whit of control. Charles opened his mouth immediately beneath it, running his tongue wildly over Erik's teeth and biting harshly at the metallurgist's lips. Erik returned in kind, wrapping his slender hands around Charles's wrists in lieu of the metal that now hit the floor with an audible clang. It was when Charles's hard erection brushed and bumped against Erik's that Erik finally let out a low, raspy groan that sounded torn from his throat.
More, Erik. More.
Erik let his hands drift to Charles's waist, the need pulsing through him and the want making his grip harder and harder until he knew there'd be bruises. Charles, his hands finally free, brought his fingers up to Erik's hair and pulled and tugged possessively, taking with his hands what he couldn't with his mouth.
Erik slowly rolled against Charles again, and he felt the uncertainty rearing its ugly head. Hunting down Shaw in the years of his life had left little, precious time for romantic encounters, sexual or otherwise. The pounding melodies of sex and desire were pushing him harder, making him drop from Charles's mouth to scrabble at his neck sloppily with his mouth.
Charles grunted and moaned against him, his arms looping around Erik's neck and his elbows balancing against Erik's shoulders. He demanded as much as Erik could give, used one of his hands to push Erik's hand to his rear. Erik groaned harshly against his neck, the sound of it making pinwheels of light burst through Charles's mind as he ground against his friend.
They were on the ground, rolling and rolling then until they came to stop with Charles on top of Erik. One of his hands was still wound tightly in Erik's disheveled hair, the fingers slipping through the strands. The other hand was working desperately at his trousers.
Erik lifted a hand from Charles's waist and helped with what he could of the metal belt buckles and buttons. It was when Charles, with very little modesty, pulled his aching cock out to stroke it that Erik felt his head slam the floor beneath him, his hips rocking up and a needy moan escaping his mouth harshly and without his consent.
Charles stared at him, those blue eyes still full of so much swirling emotion that Erik couldn't begin to read any of it. He was sure he recognized some things, and not others. Charles very deliberately rolled his arse against Erik's aching, clothing-clad cock and Erik stopped thinking so much about what the telepath could possibly be thinking about.
Charles pulled one of Erik's hands up then, and Erik groaned at the silk-hard feeling of Charles's cock beneath his fingers. Feeling as if he'd break if he didn't gain some control back though, Erik rolled Charles back to the floor, and harshly rutted against him, again and again until the whimpers and cries fell from Charles's lips without thought or filter.
The mental cacophony was just as loud in Erik's head, the intensity and desire, the guilt and the confusion, the desperation to never ever stop so long as they stayed just like this, and Erik felt more than heard Charles come against his hand, the hot liquid spurting and branding him, the pulse of Charles's orgasm rushing over him like a tsunami of emotion that couldn't be contained.
It was almost enough, and Erik jerked his trousers down, sitting on his knees to roughly pull and tug at his cock to try and finish this; he couldn't bloody stand it; he was so close-
And then Charles was on his hands and knees, bobbing his head and mouthing at the head of Erik's cock, those blue eyes staring up at him as if to beg him to release, to come, to let it go-
And Erik did, the groan falling from his lips like acidic rain. He felt the weight increase on his knees as his body tried to collapse and Charles licked and swallowed as if to get every bit of pleasure out of this as he could.
Erik finally came to a seated position against the sofa, uncaring that his trousers were still pooled at his knees. Charles clearly didn't seem to care either, and panted hard beside of him. Charles looked sidelong at him, a definite look of curiosity on his face now.
"What the bloody hell was all that?" Charles asked quietly.
Erik didn't have an answer. It certainly wasn't the first time he didn't, but it was, however, the first time he cared.
He'd be silent for too long; Charles was kneeled in front of him again, his sweater splashed obscenely and vulgarly with semen and his lips cherry red and bruised from kisses and bites.
He bit his lower lip again, and Erik lifted lazy, confused eyes. Charles was kissing him again, almost as if to test something out. Erik didn't respond, not at first, deciding it was best for them both if Charles simply sorted this one out.
Erik had bigger things on his plate after all. What he didn't count on was the way his arms came up once more, and collected Charles neatly into his lap and let his arms fall about the smaller man's waist.
They sat like that for a number of minutes, possibly an hour even. And Erik found another first; it was the first time that vengeance and hate weren't overtaking his life, the first time he dared to hope, the first time for quite a few things.
It paled in comparison when Charles dropped his face down against Erik's neck and murmured things that he was sure neither of them would ever remember again, but needed to be said. Things like he wished Shaw could die too, and didn't Erik ever think that Charles grew tired of having morals, of having ethics? Of how easier everything would be if he could just let go and use his power to control everything, didn't Erik even think that perhaps Charles had headaches not because he couldn't block things out, but because he had to rein himself in?
Erik drowsily listened, feeling as if Charles hadn't really showed himself before this night. That was possibly the most important first, he supposed. Charles had known all along that Erik was a soldier, a killer, a weapon.
It was the first time it had occurred to Erik that Charles might be the same.
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Author's Notes: Alrighty, that one ended up way longer than I meant it to. I liked the ending of it though. See ya next issue!
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: This Chapter: M for strong, sexual content
Warnings: No warnings, save that this is a table prompt thing, so it'll be long. Warnings will be posted according to said prompt.
Summary: "First". Charles stretches his powers, Erik gives him a run for his money.
Author's Notes: This one took some odd twists along the way, but ultimately, I really liked the ending! And this one actually has like...sex in it and stuff. Wootwoot. Porn with a plot ^_^
Additional Note/Dedication: This is for all of the lovely readers of the fanfiction here who adore bamf!Charles and when he and Erik square off with no real clear winner.
Erik felt like if he didn't move, didn't do something, than Charles's eyes would make him implode into brilliant blue flames. The gaze was almost angry, far more heated than Erik could ever remember the telepath appearing. Erik swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, and struggled not only to gain his footing, but also to remove the rage that followed the loss of control.
To be fair, it had been Erik's idea to force Charles into stretching his powers and seeing how far he could push it.
"It's not challenging to me if you simply don't fight back," Charles pointed out warily, and his face was tight with concentration.
Erik grit his teeth against the harsh, mental hold that Charles had over him. It was all he could do not to summon the closest metal object and slam it into the telepath's skull.
"I don't want to hurt you."
Charles snorted, a smug sound that unexpectedly grated on Erik's already-wrecked nerves. "Isn't that the point? I'm hardly without my own defenses."
Erik squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to move against Charles's hold. He felt his fingers move briefly, and then they froze again.
Charles tutted at him, slowly approaching Erik once more. "There's a great many things I could force you to do, my friend." His eyes were angrier now, pleading, desperate. "I suggest you defend yourself."
Charles's proximity made Erik feel slightly dizzy, and not entirely sure what the mind reader was so bloody guilty-looking. The younger man's face was pale and his lips were set in a line.
Erik glared, and felt his gut twist when Charles stepped directly into Erik's space, their noses nearly touching.
"Stop me, Erik," Charles said lowly. "This is as much training for me as it is you."
Erik tried harder for his stronger, right hand and felt little satisfaction when Charles's lips tightened and sweat trickled down his face. He could smell the concentration rolling of Charles in waves.
Charles leaned to Erik's ear. "Harder, my friend."
Erik hissed against it, finally feeling his hands ball into his fists. Charles being so close shot straight to his lower belly, curling in waves of something unnamable and vicious. Charles let out a sharp intake of breath, and Erik realized it was because the band of Charles's metal watch had constricted around his wrist.
He wouldn't have noticed it at all if Charles's hand hadn't been at his temple. As it was though, Charles's face toughened and the fingers of his right hand pressed harder at his skin. The pale flesh of his hand began to turn slightly red with the lack of blood flowing to his hand.
Erik felt one of his hands finally release slightly; it was his left-he'd have to make do. Charles was firmly entrenched in his head; he'd have to be careful if he was going to strike.
Charles's eyes narrowed and glinted; something akin to curiosity flashed in his features, but it was gone in an instant. His eyes dropped to Erik's hand, as if to speculate its potential energy and whether it could shift to kinetic.
Which was all very well, save that Charles was inspecting Erik's right hand.
And that very well explained how the copper-nickel chain from the curtains now quietly drifted like a gravity-defying snake through the air with very little of Charles's knowledge.
"Surely you don't think I'm that stupid?" Charles asked with a frown, as if following the path along in Erik's mind.
Erik wanted to reply, should've replied, but Charles still held his body in an icy grip, save the left fingers that sputtered and shook uselessly. His left hand still did its work, the chain was still moving without sound, and Erik managed to narrow his gaze at Charles, a touch of insolence leaning into the stare.
Charles raised an eyebrow, his fingers pressed tight against his temple. "You're up to something," he said suddenly, and lost his concentration when the chain wrapped itself around Charles's right wrist, and added to the blood constriction of his watch.
Erik felt his arms finally-finally-come free, and he used the chain to wrap around Charles's wrist further, melding with his watch and jerking the bloody hand down. Real anger crossed Charles's face, and he projected enough that Erik caught the self-disgust that he'd lost it at all.
But Charles's hands were behind his back now, wrapped tightly in metal and Erik could finally move again.
It was Erik's turn to be smug, and he made a small tutting sound. "Those are quite powerful defenses," he said dryly, and didn't miss the string of swear words as Charles squeezed his eyes shut in concentration.
Erik kneeled in front of him. "A draw, friend?"
Charles snorted suddenly; a self-deprecating sound that was so unlike him that Erik raised an eyebrow. "I'm hardly finished."
Erik could almost hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice and he could sense the lack of concentrated iron and copper in Charles's hands from where the blood had nearly stopped flowing. Erik didn't relent; Charles wouldn't if given the choice. They could only really train with each other like this; none of the kids would've lasted a minute as it was.
"I suggest you make something happen, Charles, if you're going to save your hands." To prove his point, Erik ruthlessly tightened the metal further.
Charles hissed in real pain, but his eyes didn't open. It was when they did that Erik felt Charles slip effortlessly back into his head, and seize control once more. Erik couldn't even make a sound in surprise.
"Unwind the metal about my wrists, Erik," Charles said out loud, as if saying it in Erik's mind was too much for him right now.
Erik watched his hand come up and unwind the metals. His mind screamed not to, pleaded not to. Charles brought his hands up, rubbing the blood back into them. The heady smell of copper and iron flooded Erik's senses, yet he still couldn't make a sound as Charles raised an eyebrow at the sudden spike of want, of need. It was unexpected, though unsurprising all the same that different concentrations of metals in the blood would affect Erik, just as differently projected emotions affected Charles.
Charles inched closer to Erik, waving a hand in front of his face as if to test the hold he had. It was stronger than the first one; Erik glared as best he could, and projected his rage as loudly as possible.
Charles did wince a little at that. "You're howling in my head, Erik."
Charles rather imagined if Erik could spit at him, he would have.
"That's hardly nice," Charles admonished him, and calmed Erik's racing pulse. "There's far nicer things I could do for you in this position," he continued affably, and when Erik's arousal spiked him again, it was confirmation and guilt and disgust and too many other complexes to name.
Don't do this, Charles, don't, I'll hurt you, don't do this-
There was no please, something that didn't go unknown on either of their parts, and Charles leaned closer, so close that Erik felt the scent of Charles's herbal shampoo drifting and overpowering his senses. The arousal and desire became a desperate, intense bubble of pressure between them.
Charles looked pleadingly at Erik now. Break this hold, Erik. Break it.
Erik's eyes were the only part that moved.
Erik, break this before I break us both, for god's sake; don't let me do this.
It made sense now, Charles's guilty look from earlier. Whether Erik kissed Charles on his own, he didn't know, but once his lips met the other man's, the hold on his body weakened enough, and Erik wrapped the chain around Charles's wrists again. He thought he could feel chafed skin and perhaps a bit of warm wetness there.
When he brought his hand back up, there was the stench of copper and iron, of little bits of nickel, all mixed within the bright red. Charles was still kissing him though, and Erik kept his hold on Charles's wrists, kneading the sensitive, pained skin and swallowing the whimpered cry that left Charles's mouth.
Charles pressed against him, what part he could with his hands behind his back, and Erik's arms were wrapped powerfully around him now, holding his wrists at such a downward angle that he thought his shoulder might pop from their sockets. But he didn't care, the desire crashed over him in waves, he could barely keep his thoughts to himself, couldn't stop from bleeding the need into Erik's mind, that blindly horrible need that made him hard and aching and swollen.
Erik, don't make me stop-
Erik kissed him harder in response, tongue drawing out to lick at Charles's lips with not a hint of experience or a whit of control. Charles opened his mouth immediately beneath it, running his tongue wildly over Erik's teeth and biting harshly at the metallurgist's lips. Erik returned in kind, wrapping his slender hands around Charles's wrists in lieu of the metal that now hit the floor with an audible clang. It was when Charles's hard erection brushed and bumped against Erik's that Erik finally let out a low, raspy groan that sounded torn from his throat.
More, Erik. More.
Erik let his hands drift to Charles's waist, the need pulsing through him and the want making his grip harder and harder until he knew there'd be bruises. Charles, his hands finally free, brought his fingers up to Erik's hair and pulled and tugged possessively, taking with his hands what he couldn't with his mouth.
Erik slowly rolled against Charles again, and he felt the uncertainty rearing its ugly head. Hunting down Shaw in the years of his life had left little, precious time for romantic encounters, sexual or otherwise. The pounding melodies of sex and desire were pushing him harder, making him drop from Charles's mouth to scrabble at his neck sloppily with his mouth.
Charles grunted and moaned against him, his arms looping around Erik's neck and his elbows balancing against Erik's shoulders. He demanded as much as Erik could give, used one of his hands to push Erik's hand to his rear. Erik groaned harshly against his neck, the sound of it making pinwheels of light burst through Charles's mind as he ground against his friend.
They were on the ground, rolling and rolling then until they came to stop with Charles on top of Erik. One of his hands was still wound tightly in Erik's disheveled hair, the fingers slipping through the strands. The other hand was working desperately at his trousers.
Erik lifted a hand from Charles's waist and helped with what he could of the metal belt buckles and buttons. It was when Charles, with very little modesty, pulled his aching cock out to stroke it that Erik felt his head slam the floor beneath him, his hips rocking up and a needy moan escaping his mouth harshly and without his consent.
Charles stared at him, those blue eyes still full of so much swirling emotion that Erik couldn't begin to read any of it. He was sure he recognized some things, and not others. Charles very deliberately rolled his arse against Erik's aching, clothing-clad cock and Erik stopped thinking so much about what the telepath could possibly be thinking about.
Charles pulled one of Erik's hands up then, and Erik groaned at the silk-hard feeling of Charles's cock beneath his fingers. Feeling as if he'd break if he didn't gain some control back though, Erik rolled Charles back to the floor, and harshly rutted against him, again and again until the whimpers and cries fell from Charles's lips without thought or filter.
The mental cacophony was just as loud in Erik's head, the intensity and desire, the guilt and the confusion, the desperation to never ever stop so long as they stayed just like this, and Erik felt more than heard Charles come against his hand, the hot liquid spurting and branding him, the pulse of Charles's orgasm rushing over him like a tsunami of emotion that couldn't be contained.
It was almost enough, and Erik jerked his trousers down, sitting on his knees to roughly pull and tug at his cock to try and finish this; he couldn't bloody stand it; he was so close-
And then Charles was on his hands and knees, bobbing his head and mouthing at the head of Erik's cock, those blue eyes staring up at him as if to beg him to release, to come, to let it go-
And Erik did, the groan falling from his lips like acidic rain. He felt the weight increase on his knees as his body tried to collapse and Charles licked and swallowed as if to get every bit of pleasure out of this as he could.
Erik finally came to a seated position against the sofa, uncaring that his trousers were still pooled at his knees. Charles clearly didn't seem to care either, and panted hard beside of him. Charles looked sidelong at him, a definite look of curiosity on his face now.
"What the bloody hell was all that?" Charles asked quietly.
Erik didn't have an answer. It certainly wasn't the first time he didn't, but it was, however, the first time he cared.
He'd be silent for too long; Charles was kneeled in front of him again, his sweater splashed obscenely and vulgarly with semen and his lips cherry red and bruised from kisses and bites.
He bit his lower lip again, and Erik lifted lazy, confused eyes. Charles was kissing him again, almost as if to test something out. Erik didn't respond, not at first, deciding it was best for them both if Charles simply sorted this one out.
Erik had bigger things on his plate after all. What he didn't count on was the way his arms came up once more, and collected Charles neatly into his lap and let his arms fall about the smaller man's waist.
They sat like that for a number of minutes, possibly an hour even. And Erik found another first; it was the first time that vengeance and hate weren't overtaking his life, the first time he dared to hope, the first time for quite a few things.
It paled in comparison when Charles dropped his face down against Erik's neck and murmured things that he was sure neither of them would ever remember again, but needed to be said. Things like he wished Shaw could die too, and didn't Erik ever think that Charles grew tired of having morals, of having ethics? Of how easier everything would be if he could just let go and use his power to control everything, didn't Erik even think that perhaps Charles had headaches not because he couldn't block things out, but because he had to rein himself in?
Erik drowsily listened, feeling as if Charles hadn't really showed himself before this night. That was possibly the most important first, he supposed. Charles had known all along that Erik was a soldier, a killer, a weapon.
It was the first time it had occurred to Erik that Charles might be the same.
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Author's Notes: Alrighty, that one ended up way longer than I meant it to. I liked the ending of it though. See ya next issue!