Dream Language
Title: Dream Language
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Author's note: Thanks to phineasjones for beta.
Summary: It could only be one person calling at 3:00 in the morning from somewhere in northern Canada, a person who has just woken from a dream knowing he was not alone in his mind.
Charles settles himself in his bed, stripped to a white t-shirt and boxers and the socks he always wears to increase the circulation in his legs. He closes his eyes, focuses on the soft cushion of the pillow beneath his head, the crisp sheets under him; and then he turns his thoughts to Erik.
He isn't sure he can find him without Cerebro. It's been ages since he's tried to reach out to Erik without his powers amplified by the machine. But his mind has already picked up Erik's trail. As he lets go of his doubts and finds he's moving at such a speed that he can't see what he's passing; blurs of trees and roads and clouds. Eventually, he is able to pick out a neighborhood, street numbers, an apartment building. Suddenly, he is in Erik's bedroom. Erik's arm is thrown across the pillow, his face resting in the crook of his elbow, the sheet tangled at his hip; Erik is wearing a t-shirt but is otherwise naked. Charles remembers this is Erik's preferred way to sleep. He listens to Erik breathe, aching with each moment of it, feeling it in his physical body, almost as if Erik's body is warm against his own.
And then he does what has come here to do; to step into Erik's dreams, to read his thoughts when he's most vulnerable, and most unaware.
The problem with dreams is that they are rarely straightforward. They are collections of images that would never make sense in consciousness; they draw on the dreamer's thoughts and memories and form their own narrative. For this reason, Charles cannot simply walk into Erik's mind and appear like a character in the story. Erik would wake instantly and would probably have a terrible headache from the invasion. Instead, Charles has to weave himself into the dream, tiny tendrils at a time. It is amazingly effective; through subtle suggestion and observation, there is almost no limit to what Charles could learn.
Charles had fallen into Erik's dreams before, when they slept in the same bed together. Charles would find himself in Erik's head, dreaming his dreams when they were both asleep. Erik found it fascinating, powerful evidence of their connection and of Charles' love for him; for Erik, it was a cherished moment where an otherwise restrained Charles let loose his powers. Charles finds it ironic how he is now approaching the same gesture with stealth.
At first, Charles is lost in the raw chaos of Erik's consciousness; he has to reacquaint himself with Erik's mind, his senses. Then, the dream images become clear.
Erik dreams of their apartment in Israel; it's not an exact replica, but Charles recognizes the important symbols; the iron railings of their porch, the wool blanket on the back of the couch. Erik is looking for something in the apartment. He finds John, who looks younger than he really is, waiting in the kitchen. He's flicking his lighter, over and over, but ignoring Erik. Charles understands that Erik is comforted that John is there, but hurt that he won't acknowledge him. Erik begins to close the curtains of all of the windows and John speaks finally, saying, "Leave it. I don't mind."
Erik dreams of the duplicate Cerebro at Alkali Lake; Charles can feel the heavy weight of Erik's cape, the security of the helmet around his head protecting him. Erik pauses at the doorway, and when the door opens for him, the greeting is not the real Cerebro's "Hello, Professor," but Charles' own voice, saying "Hello Erik."
Erik dreams of a body of water, not Alkali Lake, nothing Charles recognizes, nor, it seems, does Erik. He stands knee-deep in the cold water, gazing out at the horizon. He watches a loon land with a splash in the water; it settles its wings, and calls out hauntingly. The sound echoes over the lapping water.
Charles is overcome with longing, his or Erik's, he's not sure. He wants to speak but this is not the time. He's a guest here; already his strong emotions are betraying him and he suspects Erik might be able to sense him. It's confirmed when Erik speaks in the dream, "Charles?"
Charles has to master himself to keep from answering. He offers only a subtle acknowledgment, and Erik seems to understand this and moves on as though Charles were just another piece of the dream.
Except that Erik begins to swim out to the loon. His clothing snags at some current in the water, and he starts to sink. Charles struggles desperately to keep Erik from going under; Erik refuses to stop and the water rises to his chin, over his mouth, until he is completely underwater.
Charles collides harshly with his physical self, tense and rigid in his bed; he's drenched in sweat and his muscles ache. He sits up, confused and weak. The telephone rings.
It could only be one person calling at 3:00 in the morning from somewhere in northern Canada, a person who has just woken from a dream knowing he was not alone in his mind.
Charles answers with an apology. "I'm sorry, Erik."
"What ever for?" Erik's voice is deep and thick from sleep. "You could always use the telephone if you really want to reach me. I'll happily recount all I remember of my dreams."
"And you dream of the loon often?" Charles asks.
"What are birds symbols for, then?"
"The higher self, I believe."
"Interesting. This particular bird seemed to have your name."
There is silence on the line. Finally, Charles says, "There's no way I can see you, is there?"
"Can't your jet cross international borders?"
"You know what I mean."
"I do. I'm not certain it would be a good idea, old friend. Still, I would not turn you away were you to appear at my door."
"I'll remember that."
"So, goodnight, then, Charles?"
"Goodnight, Erik. Sweet dreams."
Charles hangs up the phone and considers waking Scott to ask him when the jet might be ready for a long flight, but decides he might have a clearer mind, and thus make sounder decisions, in the morning. He lies back down but finds he cannot fall asleep.
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Author's note: Thanks to phineasjones for beta.
Summary: It could only be one person calling at 3:00 in the morning from somewhere in northern Canada, a person who has just woken from a dream knowing he was not alone in his mind.
Charles settles himself in his bed, stripped to a white t-shirt and boxers and the socks he always wears to increase the circulation in his legs. He closes his eyes, focuses on the soft cushion of the pillow beneath his head, the crisp sheets under him; and then he turns his thoughts to Erik.
He isn't sure he can find him without Cerebro. It's been ages since he's tried to reach out to Erik without his powers amplified by the machine. But his mind has already picked up Erik's trail. As he lets go of his doubts and finds he's moving at such a speed that he can't see what he's passing; blurs of trees and roads and clouds. Eventually, he is able to pick out a neighborhood, street numbers, an apartment building. Suddenly, he is in Erik's bedroom. Erik's arm is thrown across the pillow, his face resting in the crook of his elbow, the sheet tangled at his hip; Erik is wearing a t-shirt but is otherwise naked. Charles remembers this is Erik's preferred way to sleep. He listens to Erik breathe, aching with each moment of it, feeling it in his physical body, almost as if Erik's body is warm against his own.
And then he does what has come here to do; to step into Erik's dreams, to read his thoughts when he's most vulnerable, and most unaware.
The problem with dreams is that they are rarely straightforward. They are collections of images that would never make sense in consciousness; they draw on the dreamer's thoughts and memories and form their own narrative. For this reason, Charles cannot simply walk into Erik's mind and appear like a character in the story. Erik would wake instantly and would probably have a terrible headache from the invasion. Instead, Charles has to weave himself into the dream, tiny tendrils at a time. It is amazingly effective; through subtle suggestion and observation, there is almost no limit to what Charles could learn.
Charles had fallen into Erik's dreams before, when they slept in the same bed together. Charles would find himself in Erik's head, dreaming his dreams when they were both asleep. Erik found it fascinating, powerful evidence of their connection and of Charles' love for him; for Erik, it was a cherished moment where an otherwise restrained Charles let loose his powers. Charles finds it ironic how he is now approaching the same gesture with stealth.
At first, Charles is lost in the raw chaos of Erik's consciousness; he has to reacquaint himself with Erik's mind, his senses. Then, the dream images become clear.
Erik dreams of their apartment in Israel; it's not an exact replica, but Charles recognizes the important symbols; the iron railings of their porch, the wool blanket on the back of the couch. Erik is looking for something in the apartment. He finds John, who looks younger than he really is, waiting in the kitchen. He's flicking his lighter, over and over, but ignoring Erik. Charles understands that Erik is comforted that John is there, but hurt that he won't acknowledge him. Erik begins to close the curtains of all of the windows and John speaks finally, saying, "Leave it. I don't mind."
Erik dreams of the duplicate Cerebro at Alkali Lake; Charles can feel the heavy weight of Erik's cape, the security of the helmet around his head protecting him. Erik pauses at the doorway, and when the door opens for him, the greeting is not the real Cerebro's "Hello, Professor," but Charles' own voice, saying "Hello Erik."
Erik dreams of a body of water, not Alkali Lake, nothing Charles recognizes, nor, it seems, does Erik. He stands knee-deep in the cold water, gazing out at the horizon. He watches a loon land with a splash in the water; it settles its wings, and calls out hauntingly. The sound echoes over the lapping water.
Charles is overcome with longing, his or Erik's, he's not sure. He wants to speak but this is not the time. He's a guest here; already his strong emotions are betraying him and he suspects Erik might be able to sense him. It's confirmed when Erik speaks in the dream, "Charles?"
Charles has to master himself to keep from answering. He offers only a subtle acknowledgment, and Erik seems to understand this and moves on as though Charles were just another piece of the dream.
Except that Erik begins to swim out to the loon. His clothing snags at some current in the water, and he starts to sink. Charles struggles desperately to keep Erik from going under; Erik refuses to stop and the water rises to his chin, over his mouth, until he is completely underwater.
Charles collides harshly with his physical self, tense and rigid in his bed; he's drenched in sweat and his muscles ache. He sits up, confused and weak. The telephone rings.
It could only be one person calling at 3:00 in the morning from somewhere in northern Canada, a person who has just woken from a dream knowing he was not alone in his mind.
Charles answers with an apology. "I'm sorry, Erik."
"What ever for?" Erik's voice is deep and thick from sleep. "You could always use the telephone if you really want to reach me. I'll happily recount all I remember of my dreams."
"And you dream of the loon often?" Charles asks.
"What are birds symbols for, then?"
"The higher self, I believe."
"Interesting. This particular bird seemed to have your name."
There is silence on the line. Finally, Charles says, "There's no way I can see you, is there?"
"Can't your jet cross international borders?"
"You know what I mean."
"I do. I'm not certain it would be a good idea, old friend. Still, I would not turn you away were you to appear at my door."
"I'll remember that."
"So, goodnight, then, Charles?"
"Goodnight, Erik. Sweet dreams."
Charles hangs up the phone and considers waking Scott to ask him when the jet might be ready for a long flight, but decides he might have a clearer mind, and thus make sounder decisions, in the morning. He lies back down but finds he cannot fall asleep.