Memento [X-Men: First Class - Erik/Introspection, Erik/Charles]
Title: Memento
Summary: A moment of introspection.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Unfulfilled Erik/Charles
Words & Warnings: ~800 / References to canon injury [post-canon]
Disclaimer: X-Men and all associated = the property of Marvel and Fox.
Notes: Originally written for this xmen_firstkink prompt: Erik kept the bullet that paralyzed Charles.
Also at AO3.
Erik doesn’t like to examine why he kept the bullet (before Charles he wouldn’t even have considered examining his reasoning for anything). It isn’t for the same reason that he kept the coin, there would be no point in taking revenge against MacTaggart; Emma had told him Charles had stripped the memories from her brain, leaving her unaware of her role in their ruin.
(Charles isn’t here to take the memories from Erik: the pained shout, the hammering of Erik’s own pulse in his ears, frantically extracting the bullet as if that would help and Charles’ eyes, boring into his, expressing every emotion Erik had expected Charles to express from the start, that he never had, and knowing then that it was the end.)
It’s a line that Charles would never have crossed without good reason. Another thing that Erik can blame himself for only in the darkest hours of the night, the time between awake and asleep, when he can accept that he brought all of it onto himself. Charles had never done anything but trust him and believe in him and as soon as the opportunity arose Erik had turned that trust into ash and blood and pain.
(Erik can remember every little moment, every touch and every glance that lasted just a beat too long. Insinuating himself unconsciously into Charles’ space and Charles simply letting him in. A singular act of trust the like of which Erik had never experienced before. He misses the warm camaraderie almost more than he misses everything else.)
The bullet is a weight in his pocket, a permanent reminder of what happens when he tips the balance between rage and serenity too far and allows himself to fall. It won’t happen again, Erik has assured himself of this, never again will Charles be hurt by his hand. Emma thinks him sentimental and she’s probably right but Erik doesn’t care. This is his, his time with Charles, and he’ll be sentimental if he wishes to.
(He doesn’t regret his choice or his rhetoric or his beliefs. He doesn’t regret leaving the beach or the students or even Charles, though there are times when he comes close. He regrets one thing, truly, and one thing alone - that he never took the other opportunity Charles gave him. The one hidden in their affection.)
Sometimes Mystique finds him rolling the bullet between his fingers, an object he knows better by touch than by sight, and her eyes take on the far away look that he knows means she misses her pseudo-brother despite all her posturing. He cannot stand the sad eyes she tries to hide from him in those moments. She alone knows the truth of what he’s lost.
(So precious and vulnerable, this blue girl in his bed, but that is what she is, a girl, and Erik kisses her chastely and sends her away, he won’t be the person who steals what’s left of her innocence.
‘It’s my bro- Charles,’ she says matter-of-factly in his doorway and though Erik is certain he betrays nothing she reads assent into his silence. Her sigh is palpable acquiescence.
Charles appears later, disturbed by the conversation he has just had, and Erik feels a stab of pride at Mystique taken ownership of herself.
Charles leans into him with an intent he’s being barely hiding for days and Erik wants him so terribly that he deliberately misunderstands the cues being offered to him. He knows what he has to do the next day, knows that Charles will see it, and doesn’t want to give Charles a memory to tarnish with his own acts. He catches Charles’ wrist as he raises and hand, feels the pulse beneath his fingers, and turns him away.
‘Tomorrow. When we are safe,’ he says, even though he knows it’s a lie, and Charles mustn’t be reading his mind because he radiates a simple pleasure at the falsehood. Erik jerks him forwards and presses a kiss that is far too brotherly to Charles temple, the one he touches in affectation when he can use his gift without it. Charles’ sigh, soft against his neck, is a promise of something Erik can never claim.
Later he will admit to himself that it hurts more than anything else has and he hates himself for his selfishness.)
Erik hadn’t truly meant for everything to end on the beach, thought he would have more time to work on convincing Charles of his viewpoint (he always knew the humans would turn, just not how fast), to build the school that filled Charles’ thoughts. Erik has always been a victim of the universe’s sadistic games, this is simply the latest turn.
The bullet stays with him always. He may not be able to have Charles at his side but instead he has this; cold, hard, disrupted metal, it’s very shape altered by the shape of Charles, to remind him of all he has lost for his people, and he must believe it is worth it or he will never survive the war that is coming.
Summary: A moment of introspection.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Unfulfilled Erik/Charles
Words & Warnings: ~800 / References to canon injury [post-canon]
Disclaimer: X-Men and all associated = the property of Marvel and Fox.
Notes: Originally written for this xmen_firstkink prompt: Erik kept the bullet that paralyzed Charles.
Also at AO3.
Erik doesn’t like to examine why he kept the bullet (before Charles he wouldn’t even have considered examining his reasoning for anything). It isn’t for the same reason that he kept the coin, there would be no point in taking revenge against MacTaggart; Emma had told him Charles had stripped the memories from her brain, leaving her unaware of her role in their ruin.
(Charles isn’t here to take the memories from Erik: the pained shout, the hammering of Erik’s own pulse in his ears, frantically extracting the bullet as if that would help and Charles’ eyes, boring into his, expressing every emotion Erik had expected Charles to express from the start, that he never had, and knowing then that it was the end.)
It’s a line that Charles would never have crossed without good reason. Another thing that Erik can blame himself for only in the darkest hours of the night, the time between awake and asleep, when he can accept that he brought all of it onto himself. Charles had never done anything but trust him and believe in him and as soon as the opportunity arose Erik had turned that trust into ash and blood and pain.
(Erik can remember every little moment, every touch and every glance that lasted just a beat too long. Insinuating himself unconsciously into Charles’ space and Charles simply letting him in. A singular act of trust the like of which Erik had never experienced before. He misses the warm camaraderie almost more than he misses everything else.)
The bullet is a weight in his pocket, a permanent reminder of what happens when he tips the balance between rage and serenity too far and allows himself to fall. It won’t happen again, Erik has assured himself of this, never again will Charles be hurt by his hand. Emma thinks him sentimental and she’s probably right but Erik doesn’t care. This is his, his time with Charles, and he’ll be sentimental if he wishes to.
(He doesn’t regret his choice or his rhetoric or his beliefs. He doesn’t regret leaving the beach or the students or even Charles, though there are times when he comes close. He regrets one thing, truly, and one thing alone - that he never took the other opportunity Charles gave him. The one hidden in their affection.)
Sometimes Mystique finds him rolling the bullet between his fingers, an object he knows better by touch than by sight, and her eyes take on the far away look that he knows means she misses her pseudo-brother despite all her posturing. He cannot stand the sad eyes she tries to hide from him in those moments. She alone knows the truth of what he’s lost.
(So precious and vulnerable, this blue girl in his bed, but that is what she is, a girl, and Erik kisses her chastely and sends her away, he won’t be the person who steals what’s left of her innocence.
‘It’s my bro- Charles,’ she says matter-of-factly in his doorway and though Erik is certain he betrays nothing she reads assent into his silence. Her sigh is palpable acquiescence.
Charles appears later, disturbed by the conversation he has just had, and Erik feels a stab of pride at Mystique taken ownership of herself.
Charles leans into him with an intent he’s being barely hiding for days and Erik wants him so terribly that he deliberately misunderstands the cues being offered to him. He knows what he has to do the next day, knows that Charles will see it, and doesn’t want to give Charles a memory to tarnish with his own acts. He catches Charles’ wrist as he raises and hand, feels the pulse beneath his fingers, and turns him away.
‘Tomorrow. When we are safe,’ he says, even though he knows it’s a lie, and Charles mustn’t be reading his mind because he radiates a simple pleasure at the falsehood. Erik jerks him forwards and presses a kiss that is far too brotherly to Charles temple, the one he touches in affectation when he can use his gift without it. Charles’ sigh, soft against his neck, is a promise of something Erik can never claim.
Later he will admit to himself that it hurts more than anything else has and he hates himself for his selfishness.)
Erik hadn’t truly meant for everything to end on the beach, thought he would have more time to work on convincing Charles of his viewpoint (he always knew the humans would turn, just not how fast), to build the school that filled Charles’ thoughts. Erik has always been a victim of the universe’s sadistic games, this is simply the latest turn.
The bullet stays with him always. He may not be able to have Charles at his side but instead he has this; cold, hard, disrupted metal, it’s very shape altered by the shape of Charles, to remind him of all he has lost for his people, and he must believe it is worth it or he will never survive the war that is coming.