FIC: Come Home - 1/1, XMFC, PG, Charles/Erik
Title: Come Home
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lensherr
Rating: PG
Word count: 397
Summary: A simple, stupid metal helmet keeps them apart.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I'm just borrowing them for a minute or two. Eternal love and thanks to Stan Lee for creating this world.
Author's Notes: Lazy Hazy Summer Daze #26 for azewewish who feeds my need to toy around with a darker Charles. ;)
If there's one thing being in the wheelchair had taught Charles, it was patience. After all, he'd had to readjust his entire life once he could no longer walk. And that was frustrating, daunting, infuriating.
But he'd conquered all that, like he had every other barricade that life had thrown in front of him.
Every barricade except a simple, stupid metal helmet.
It had taken months for him to get used to being locked out of Erik's head. In all honesty, he still wasn't used to it, but he'd accepted it. It wasn't like Erik was going to remove the helmet or change his mind. Not when it was too easy for him to continue to lie to himself while he wore it.
Yet Charles still prodded at it from time to time, much like with a sore tooth, something deep inside him savoring the flash of pain each time he hit that mental wall. And then, one day, the wall wasn't there.
The familiarity of being once more in Erik's head startled Charles so badly that he almost dropped the connection. Almost.
Charles?
Charles could see the surprise on Erik's face. It could only mirror his own. But he knew, without being told, that Erik was reaching for the helmet. Reaching to shut Charles out once more. No. Not again.
Charles, what -- Get out of my mind!
Charles just smiled to himself and held his focus. Come to me, he wanted to tell Erik. To beg him. Please, come home. But he held his silence, feeling Erik struggle, feeling the anger and fear and, yes, love.
Just like before, still shining so bright it was like the sun inside his skull.
Charles, release me. You chose --
And if I was mistaken?
The words cut off Erik's tirade, and Charles could feel the shock, the hope, rolling through Erik's thoughts.
You mean... No, you said yourself.
People change.
Not you. Not over this.
Come home and find out.
Charles...
Erik.
Don't do this.
You want it as much as I do.
Not like this.
Yes. Exactly like this.
Damn it, Charles, no.
Yes, Erik. Come home.
And Charles didn't need to hear Erik's acquiescence. He could feel it, warm and soft, like a cashmere sweater on a winter's day. Smiling again, Charles settled back in his wheelchair, determined not to be locked out of Erik's head again.
Author: Jo (jo@fadedink.com)
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lensherr
Rating: PG
Word count: 397
Summary: A simple, stupid metal helmet keeps them apart.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I'm just borrowing them for a minute or two. Eternal love and thanks to Stan Lee for creating this world.
Author's Notes: Lazy Hazy Summer Daze #26 for azewewish who feeds my need to toy around with a darker Charles. ;)
If there's one thing being in the wheelchair had taught Charles, it was patience. After all, he'd had to readjust his entire life once he could no longer walk. And that was frustrating, daunting, infuriating.
But he'd conquered all that, like he had every other barricade that life had thrown in front of him.
Every barricade except a simple, stupid metal helmet.
It had taken months for him to get used to being locked out of Erik's head. In all honesty, he still wasn't used to it, but he'd accepted it. It wasn't like Erik was going to remove the helmet or change his mind. Not when it was too easy for him to continue to lie to himself while he wore it.
Yet Charles still prodded at it from time to time, much like with a sore tooth, something deep inside him savoring the flash of pain each time he hit that mental wall. And then, one day, the wall wasn't there.
The familiarity of being once more in Erik's head startled Charles so badly that he almost dropped the connection. Almost.
Charles?
Charles could see the surprise on Erik's face. It could only mirror his own. But he knew, without being told, that Erik was reaching for the helmet. Reaching to shut Charles out once more. No. Not again.
Charles, what -- Get out of my mind!
Charles just smiled to himself and held his focus. Come to me, he wanted to tell Erik. To beg him. Please, come home. But he held his silence, feeling Erik struggle, feeling the anger and fear and, yes, love.
Just like before, still shining so bright it was like the sun inside his skull.
Charles, release me. You chose --
And if I was mistaken?
The words cut off Erik's tirade, and Charles could feel the shock, the hope, rolling through Erik's thoughts.
You mean... No, you said yourself.
People change.
Not you. Not over this.
Come home and find out.
Charles...
Erik.
Don't do this.
You want it as much as I do.
Not like this.
Yes. Exactly like this.
Damn it, Charles, no.
Yes, Erik. Come home.
And Charles didn't need to hear Erik's acquiescence. He could feel it, warm and soft, like a cashmere sweater on a winter's day. Smiling again, Charles settled back in his wheelchair, determined not to be locked out of Erik's head again.