Leaving
Title: Leaving
Author: jjtaylor
Written for: Anna (mylexie), in the xmmficathon
Pairing/scenario requested: Erik angst
Rating: R
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Thanks to phineasjones for beta.
Summary: Erik has decided he's leaving. He just doesn't know when.
Leaving
Erik is giving a quiz to his Calculus class. The power in the classroom crackles and fades as each of the students forgets being a mutant and tries only to remember an equation. For a moment Erik is distracted watching a student with his forehead nearly pressed to the desk, as if he could somehow understand if he could only get close enough to the rectangle of white paper. Erik expects this to be the last quiz he will give these students, and not because they're ready to move onto more advanced math. Their homework, which he is correcting as they take the quiz, demonstrates an extreme lack of understanding of functions.
Erik expects this to be the last quiz he gives them because he is leaving. He's told no one; however, the person from whom he would most like to keep it a secret already knows. There are some things he has learned to hide from Charles' telepathy but this isn't one of them.
It has been raining for two days straight, a thorough soak that will be good for the parched gardens. Erik watches the rain stream down the window and wonders who will remember to take care of the new cuttings he bought for the front courtyard. He wonders if he should plant them before he leaves.
It was infuriating, really, to live with a telepath. There was no way he could ever just be gone in the morning before Charles woke up.
He and Charles haven't spoken since the rain started. Charles is doing a very good job of pretending that Erik does not exist. It is wonderfully mature on both their parts. Every argument invariably turns to politics; Charles loses patience, Erik says things he knows better than to say, and one of them leaves the room. Charles continues to have too much faith in the human race; it's only a matter of time before someone will come and take from him everything he has, and Erik can no longer stay in this house and watch Charles make himself more and more vulnerable.
Their paths crossed in the kitchen this morning. Erik pretended to read the paper as Charles stirred sugar into his coffee and shuffled notes for his history class.
"Are you waiting for the rain to let up before you go?" Charles said, his voice uncharacteristically cold. Erik wonders if there is perhaps a tone Charles reserves entirely for him. He walked out of the kitchen without answering, although he thought seriously about constructing a lesson for his students about why break-ups should never be about ideology.
The bell rings, and Erik rises from his chair, which is made of wood, and places his hands on the desk, also wood, as the students suddenly all begin to write very quickly. He wonders why he's never noticed before how many things in the mansion are not made of metal.
"Turn in your quizzes," Erik announces. The students groan.
"It's not fair, professor," one student calls out, setting his pencil down on the desk with a deliberate crack.
"What isn't fair?" Erik asks lightly. "Your time is up."
"Yes, but you've written a quiz too long for the allotted time. No one's even finished."
"Are we talking about one of Erik's math quizzes?" It's Charles, in the doorway of the classroom.
"He didn't give us enough time to finish, Professor." A different student chimes in, grasping onto the appearance of Charles as though he were a life raft.
"I'm sure you did fine," Charles reassures the dour-looking girl, whose shoulders slump. Charles waits for the students to hand in their quizzes and pack up their belongings before saying to Erik, "A classic experiment. To find out which students hurried through trying to finish the most problems, and which students instead focused on getting as many right as possible no matter how many they completed."
"Indeed," Erik says, and then his face softens into a smile before he can stop it. "It's only Calculus after all. I needed something to keep me entertained."
Charles returns the smile.
"The children are gone, Charles," Erik says, tearing his gaze away and examining the quiz at the top of the pile. "You can tell me why you've really come to see me. Are you considering having me removed from the premises? Who will grade all the math quizzes?"
"Erik, always straight to business." Charles' voice is kind but his expression is unreadable. "I was hoping, actually, that you would join me for tea."
They stare at each other.
"Erik," Charles says softly. Erik feels himself pulled towards Charles.
"Don't. Don't use your powers on me like that. Not now." Erik shakes off the feeling, balls his hands into fists.
"Then come here," Charles says, his voice strangled. Erik suddenly understands and lunges at Charles, his knees colliding with the arm of the wheelchair, and kisses him.
Charles finally breaks away. "Upstairs," he says, and they straighten themselves out and head silently for their room. Once inside, Erik closes the door and leans his back against it. He hasn't been here, with Charles, for days. He'd been sleeping in one of the empty rooms, sneaking in to get changes of clothes when Charles was away. He thinks about asking Charles what this is all about, but instead he helps Charles out of his chair and lies down next to him on the bed.
When Charles reaches for him, places a hand on his chest, kisses him, Erik forgets that this isn't supposed to be happening. They undress quickly, and Erik finds himself tightly wrapped in Charles' arms. Charles looks frightened, but Erik has no reassurance to give. So instead he nips at Charles' collarbone, digs his fingers into Charles' hips, drags his tongue across every bit of Charles' torso until Charles is arching off the bed, unable to keep still.
He nestles his face in the crook of Charles' hips while his hands stroke Charles gently and slowly. Erik keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the feel of Charles' skin, his cheek hot against Charles' thigh. Charles comes silently, his body taut and then suddenly relaxing. Erik's fingers are still pressed tightly into Charles' skin.
"How can you leave me?" Charles pleads. It takes Erik a moment to realize that Charles hasn't spoken aloud. But when he opens his eyes, he is unsurprised to find Charles is almost in tears.
"I don't know," Erik says, and then drapes his body across Charles and kisses him again.
Erik wakes to someone pounding on the door.
"For God's sake, come in," he calls out, and Charles stirs and wakes, too, as the door opens. Erik looks at the clock on the bedside table. It's 3:13 AM.
"What's wrong, Michael?" Charles says, as Erik tries to blink away his sleep and recognize the poor, startled child standing in the doorway.
"Professor, I...." the boy stops, noticing that he hasn't simply awoken Charles but that Erik is there. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize...."
"It's alright," Charles says, and Erik wonders if his own voice, his own response would have the same reassuring effect. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Chris and Jordan are fighting again."
"Fighting how?" Erik asks.
"With their powers. Jordan blasted a hole through the wall of their room. I live on the other side.”
"Return to your room and see if you can calm the other students." Charles says. The boy nods and retreats back into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. Charles asks Erik, "Have you seen Jordan today?"
“No. I'll go to the dorms." Erik gets up and slips a shirt over his head. He helps Charles put on pants. His hand stills on Charles' knee as their eyes meet.
"He may have run off," Charles says. "I'll check the grounds."
"This is exactly what I was talking about. They're already thinking of their powers as weapons."
"Later, Erik," Charles says. "Once we find the child."
Erik's arrival in the corridor of the boys' rooms is preceded by an incredible amount of noise which halts immediately when he's spotted. Erik thinks he'll ask Charles whether he is doing something specifically that makes the children fear him.
"Jordan's gone, yes?" Erik says, zeroing in on one of the boys. He realizes that it's Chris, Jordan's roommate. Chris is looking particularly guilty.
"What were you fighting about?" Erik asks Chris. The hall is deadly silent.
"A girl," Chris finally confesses.
Erik tries very hard not to react. "She's a student here, I presume? Do you think Jordan will be seeking out this girl?" Erik asks.
"He said he was getting the hell out of here," another boy offers.
"I see," Erik says. "Someone tell me the name of this girl."
"Abigail."
"One of you see if Abigail is still in her rooms."
"We're not allowed in the girls' dormitory."
"I am giving you permission. Go and check on Abigail. Come and find me if she is not asleep in her bed." Erik says. "And do try your best to not wake anyone else. I'd prefer if the entire student body wasn't awake at three in the morning. Those of you who can, try and go back to sleep."
"I'll make some hot milk in the kitchen, if I have permission, professor." The request comes from Andrew, one of the students who had earlier protested Erik's unfairness in math class. Andrew looks much more vulnerable in his pajamas.
"You have my permission," Erik says. "Any students who cannot sleep can be served hot milk in the kitchen by Andrew." Andrew squares his shoulders with the new responsibility. "Save some for me," Erik adds, and Andrew nods seriously.
Erik turns to walk away and then stops. "Everything will be fine," he says, doing his best to be reassuring in the face of a dozen pleading eyes. "I'm certain Jordon has simply lost his temper and has run off. Professor Xavier and I will go and search for him.”" Erik is dismayed, but not surprised, that it is the mention of Charles' name that soothes the students. He disappears back down the stairs, imagining the entire boys' dormitory raiding the kitchen.
After a good fifteen minutes of increasingly frantic searching outside, he finds Charles at the top of the driveway, sitting with his eyes closed in the rain.
"Erik," Charles says in greeting.
"I take it you've followed him this far, and he's headed into town. Shall I go and get the car?"
"No," Charles says, "He won't come back even if we follow him. Not tonight." Charles' voice is far away, and Erik can tell he is reading Jordan's thoughts. The boy mustn't be far away at all.
"Are you certain we shouldn't go after him?" Erik says.
Charles shakes his head gently and then turns to look at Erik, breaking away from the boy's mind. "No, he won't come with us. We'll have to wait until morning at least. Or send poor Abigail after him."
"It will teach the girl early the fickle tempers of boys."
"Truly." Rain is collecting on Charles' eyebrows, dripping over his chin.
"Dear god, I have an umbrella," Erik says, pulling it from where it is jammed into his pocket. He opens it and covers Charles, ducking his head so he is mostly covered as well. They are already both soaking wet.
Charles looks up at him, his face nearly against the handle of the umbrella, his cheek millimeters away from Erik's fingers. The rain on Charles' face looks like tears.
"What are you thinking?" Charles asks.
Erik sighs, exhausted. "I don't know," he says.
Check out the incredible stories in the xmmficathon using this handy index post!
Author: jjtaylor
Written for: Anna (mylexie), in the xmmficathon
Pairing/scenario requested: Erik angst
Rating: R
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Thanks to phineasjones for beta.
Summary: Erik has decided he's leaving. He just doesn't know when.
Leaving
Erik is giving a quiz to his Calculus class. The power in the classroom crackles and fades as each of the students forgets being a mutant and tries only to remember an equation. For a moment Erik is distracted watching a student with his forehead nearly pressed to the desk, as if he could somehow understand if he could only get close enough to the rectangle of white paper. Erik expects this to be the last quiz he will give these students, and not because they're ready to move onto more advanced math. Their homework, which he is correcting as they take the quiz, demonstrates an extreme lack of understanding of functions.
Erik expects this to be the last quiz he gives them because he is leaving. He's told no one; however, the person from whom he would most like to keep it a secret already knows. There are some things he has learned to hide from Charles' telepathy but this isn't one of them.
It has been raining for two days straight, a thorough soak that will be good for the parched gardens. Erik watches the rain stream down the window and wonders who will remember to take care of the new cuttings he bought for the front courtyard. He wonders if he should plant them before he leaves.
It was infuriating, really, to live with a telepath. There was no way he could ever just be gone in the morning before Charles woke up.
He and Charles haven't spoken since the rain started. Charles is doing a very good job of pretending that Erik does not exist. It is wonderfully mature on both their parts. Every argument invariably turns to politics; Charles loses patience, Erik says things he knows better than to say, and one of them leaves the room. Charles continues to have too much faith in the human race; it's only a matter of time before someone will come and take from him everything he has, and Erik can no longer stay in this house and watch Charles make himself more and more vulnerable.
Their paths crossed in the kitchen this morning. Erik pretended to read the paper as Charles stirred sugar into his coffee and shuffled notes for his history class.
"Are you waiting for the rain to let up before you go?" Charles said, his voice uncharacteristically cold. Erik wonders if there is perhaps a tone Charles reserves entirely for him. He walked out of the kitchen without answering, although he thought seriously about constructing a lesson for his students about why break-ups should never be about ideology.
The bell rings, and Erik rises from his chair, which is made of wood, and places his hands on the desk, also wood, as the students suddenly all begin to write very quickly. He wonders why he's never noticed before how many things in the mansion are not made of metal.
"Turn in your quizzes," Erik announces. The students groan.
"It's not fair, professor," one student calls out, setting his pencil down on the desk with a deliberate crack.
"What isn't fair?" Erik asks lightly. "Your time is up."
"Yes, but you've written a quiz too long for the allotted time. No one's even finished."
"Are we talking about one of Erik's math quizzes?" It's Charles, in the doorway of the classroom.
"He didn't give us enough time to finish, Professor." A different student chimes in, grasping onto the appearance of Charles as though he were a life raft.
"I'm sure you did fine," Charles reassures the dour-looking girl, whose shoulders slump. Charles waits for the students to hand in their quizzes and pack up their belongings before saying to Erik, "A classic experiment. To find out which students hurried through trying to finish the most problems, and which students instead focused on getting as many right as possible no matter how many they completed."
"Indeed," Erik says, and then his face softens into a smile before he can stop it. "It's only Calculus after all. I needed something to keep me entertained."
Charles returns the smile.
"The children are gone, Charles," Erik says, tearing his gaze away and examining the quiz at the top of the pile. "You can tell me why you've really come to see me. Are you considering having me removed from the premises? Who will grade all the math quizzes?"
"Erik, always straight to business." Charles' voice is kind but his expression is unreadable. "I was hoping, actually, that you would join me for tea."
They stare at each other.
"Erik," Charles says softly. Erik feels himself pulled towards Charles.
"Don't. Don't use your powers on me like that. Not now." Erik shakes off the feeling, balls his hands into fists.
"Then come here," Charles says, his voice strangled. Erik suddenly understands and lunges at Charles, his knees colliding with the arm of the wheelchair, and kisses him.
Charles finally breaks away. "Upstairs," he says, and they straighten themselves out and head silently for their room. Once inside, Erik closes the door and leans his back against it. He hasn't been here, with Charles, for days. He'd been sleeping in one of the empty rooms, sneaking in to get changes of clothes when Charles was away. He thinks about asking Charles what this is all about, but instead he helps Charles out of his chair and lies down next to him on the bed.
When Charles reaches for him, places a hand on his chest, kisses him, Erik forgets that this isn't supposed to be happening. They undress quickly, and Erik finds himself tightly wrapped in Charles' arms. Charles looks frightened, but Erik has no reassurance to give. So instead he nips at Charles' collarbone, digs his fingers into Charles' hips, drags his tongue across every bit of Charles' torso until Charles is arching off the bed, unable to keep still.
He nestles his face in the crook of Charles' hips while his hands stroke Charles gently and slowly. Erik keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the feel of Charles' skin, his cheek hot against Charles' thigh. Charles comes silently, his body taut and then suddenly relaxing. Erik's fingers are still pressed tightly into Charles' skin.
"How can you leave me?" Charles pleads. It takes Erik a moment to realize that Charles hasn't spoken aloud. But when he opens his eyes, he is unsurprised to find Charles is almost in tears.
"I don't know," Erik says, and then drapes his body across Charles and kisses him again.
Erik wakes to someone pounding on the door.
"For God's sake, come in," he calls out, and Charles stirs and wakes, too, as the door opens. Erik looks at the clock on the bedside table. It's 3:13 AM.
"What's wrong, Michael?" Charles says, as Erik tries to blink away his sleep and recognize the poor, startled child standing in the doorway.
"Professor, I...." the boy stops, noticing that he hasn't simply awoken Charles but that Erik is there. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize...."
"It's alright," Charles says, and Erik wonders if his own voice, his own response would have the same reassuring effect. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Chris and Jordan are fighting again."
"Fighting how?" Erik asks.
"With their powers. Jordan blasted a hole through the wall of their room. I live on the other side.”
"Return to your room and see if you can calm the other students." Charles says. The boy nods and retreats back into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. Charles asks Erik, "Have you seen Jordan today?"
“No. I'll go to the dorms." Erik gets up and slips a shirt over his head. He helps Charles put on pants. His hand stills on Charles' knee as their eyes meet.
"He may have run off," Charles says. "I'll check the grounds."
"This is exactly what I was talking about. They're already thinking of their powers as weapons."
"Later, Erik," Charles says. "Once we find the child."
Erik's arrival in the corridor of the boys' rooms is preceded by an incredible amount of noise which halts immediately when he's spotted. Erik thinks he'll ask Charles whether he is doing something specifically that makes the children fear him.
"Jordan's gone, yes?" Erik says, zeroing in on one of the boys. He realizes that it's Chris, Jordan's roommate. Chris is looking particularly guilty.
"What were you fighting about?" Erik asks Chris. The hall is deadly silent.
"A girl," Chris finally confesses.
Erik tries very hard not to react. "She's a student here, I presume? Do you think Jordan will be seeking out this girl?" Erik asks.
"He said he was getting the hell out of here," another boy offers.
"I see," Erik says. "Someone tell me the name of this girl."
"Abigail."
"One of you see if Abigail is still in her rooms."
"We're not allowed in the girls' dormitory."
"I am giving you permission. Go and check on Abigail. Come and find me if she is not asleep in her bed." Erik says. "And do try your best to not wake anyone else. I'd prefer if the entire student body wasn't awake at three in the morning. Those of you who can, try and go back to sleep."
"I'll make some hot milk in the kitchen, if I have permission, professor." The request comes from Andrew, one of the students who had earlier protested Erik's unfairness in math class. Andrew looks much more vulnerable in his pajamas.
"You have my permission," Erik says. "Any students who cannot sleep can be served hot milk in the kitchen by Andrew." Andrew squares his shoulders with the new responsibility. "Save some for me," Erik adds, and Andrew nods seriously.
Erik turns to walk away and then stops. "Everything will be fine," he says, doing his best to be reassuring in the face of a dozen pleading eyes. "I'm certain Jordon has simply lost his temper and has run off. Professor Xavier and I will go and search for him.”" Erik is dismayed, but not surprised, that it is the mention of Charles' name that soothes the students. He disappears back down the stairs, imagining the entire boys' dormitory raiding the kitchen.
After a good fifteen minutes of increasingly frantic searching outside, he finds Charles at the top of the driveway, sitting with his eyes closed in the rain.
"Erik," Charles says in greeting.
"I take it you've followed him this far, and he's headed into town. Shall I go and get the car?"
"No," Charles says, "He won't come back even if we follow him. Not tonight." Charles' voice is far away, and Erik can tell he is reading Jordan's thoughts. The boy mustn't be far away at all.
"Are you certain we shouldn't go after him?" Erik says.
Charles shakes his head gently and then turns to look at Erik, breaking away from the boy's mind. "No, he won't come with us. We'll have to wait until morning at least. Or send poor Abigail after him."
"It will teach the girl early the fickle tempers of boys."
"Truly." Rain is collecting on Charles' eyebrows, dripping over his chin.
"Dear god, I have an umbrella," Erik says, pulling it from where it is jammed into his pocket. He opens it and covers Charles, ducking his head so he is mostly covered as well. They are already both soaking wet.
Charles looks up at him, his face nearly against the handle of the umbrella, his cheek millimeters away from Erik's fingers. The rain on Charles' face looks like tears.
"What are you thinking?" Charles asks.
Erik sighs, exhausted. "I don't know," he says.
Check out the incredible stories in the xmmficathon using this handy index post!