FIC: Vita Supernaturalis (X-Men AU)
TITLE: Vita Supernaturalis
FANDOM: X-Men First Class with Supernatural set-up
AUTHOR: Kaseykcnew
RATING: NC-17 ('cause I'm paranoid like that)
WARNINGS: Mentions of non-con, murder (of monsters), Erik/Charles, Shaw!Erik/Charles, insanity from me
SUMMARY: Written in response to this prompt on the 1stclass_kink and I should never ever fill a prompt ever again. Period.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am NEVER doing this again! Never because my brain will not stop writing this and it's getting longer the further I go with it... it was only meant to be short and simple. Instead it's taken me THREE DAYS and I'm STILL NOT FINISHED!!! GAH! *headsdesk* Stupid brain...
Vita Supernaturalis - Life of the Supernatural
Part Two
..
..
1st April 2011:
“Charles. I swear to God, if you don’t shut your mouth right now I’m going to feed you to the damned son-of-a-bitch!” Erik hissed murderously as the young man behind him who looked up at him in surprised shock.
“Charming.” Charles whispered but refrained from saying anything else lest Erik actually carry through with his threat. Silently he handed Erik the arrow tipped with Dead Man’s blood. He watched in silent fascination as Erik efficiently loaded the crossbow with the arrow. He waited in silence as Erik looked out into the darkness, searching for what they were hunting.
Though they’d only known each other for near enough a year, they had quite early fallen into a routine; permeated with late night chess matches and trips out to bars where they hustled pool or darts. Sometimes, Charles almost forgot that his first initial meeting with Erik had resulted in a angry bruise on his torso courtesy of a rock salt shell.
At first Erik hadn’t wanted Charles anywhere near him, not after the first initial meeting, but Charles nothing if not persistent and, after arguing for two hours straight with both Erik and Bobby Singer, Charles had won the right to join them on their little excursion to hunt the Demon that haunted Erik’s past. Unfortunately, they’d been too late and an entire family had been torn apart by the monstrous being, and Erik had been utterly devastated by their failure. His failure.
So Charles had stayed with him, both as a friend and a partner, and together they forged a bond between them that had saved their lives more than once. Erik was the better fighter, the more organised and powerful of the pair of them... at least, physically speaking. And Charles was the tactician, the planner, the scholar and the thinker - not that Erik was an idiot in any respect, but Erik couldn’t read a person’s thoughts and throw a blade without touching it; though Charles admitted that it tired him out very quickly and he preferred not to go all psychic on every monster they came across.
“Now.” Erik whispered softly and Charles nodded as he silently placed two fingers to his temple and focused in on their quarry. He sensed their mind, directly in front of them, a few dozen metres away and he raised a hand and pointed out into the darkness before them. Erik waited in silence as Charles forced his mind to manipulate the Vampire’s own body, no mean feat either because Vampire’s were astoundingly well-controlled with their minds, until the Vampire stumbled in the darkness before them. With no hesitation on his part, Erik swung the crossbow up and fired the arrow, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it would hit it’s mark.
They listened for a moment until they heard the sound of a body falling to the floor and they hurried out into the darkness, flicking on their torches as they did so. They found the Vampire lying in the dirt, nearly entirely paralysed from the dead man’s blood on the arrow tip and Erik handed Charles his torch as he pulled out a large silver blade.
Looking away Charles tried to block out the sounds of Erik hacking the head of the Vampire because, even though he was a hunter and had killed Vampire’s before, he had never gotten used to the fact that he could feel whatever he was killing felt. It was horrid and poisonous and so very sickening that, at times, Charles wondered if he was more of a monster than what he was hunting. Luckily however, tonight Charles had no such conflicting thoughts as Erik finished up with the Vampire.
“Wanna light the barbie?” Erik asked as he held out the lighter to Charles who silently shook his head. Frowning at Charles, Erik threw the lit lighter atop of the Vampire’s remains and together they watched in silence as the fire burnt away the last remaining traces of one of the few Vampire nests in the States. It had taken them three days of hard work, little sleep, and a hell of a lot of bitching, but they had managed to chase down and kill every single damned Vampire in this town. If Erik was honest, he couldn’t wait to see the back of it too because it was boring. He wished that he and Charles could have some time alone, just to relax and have fun, to be normal people for a while instead of ghosts off the grid hunting down evil. He wished for them to catch a break. He wished to catch the damned Demon that had haunted him all his life.
He wished for a lot of things.
His father had told him once, be careful what you wish for. Erik should have listened to him better.
..
..
“Erik.” Charles’ voice echoed around the dimly lit motel room. “Are you awake?” Charles asked as he rolled over onto his side to stare at Erik’s bed. He squinted in the darkness and was just able to make out the outline of Erik’s body on the bed. “Erik.”
“What Charles?” Erik muttered as he reluctantly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him. He had been asleep but now he was awake. Great. Not that he’d been having a good rest anyway, but that was beside the point. The point was, Charles had woke him up and Erik just wanted to sleep.
“I... uh...” Charles floundered for words as he stared at his friend’s form. He didn’t know what to say, not because he hadn’t the words to describe what he wanted, but because he didn’t have the nerve to just come out with it. Erik let out a quiet growl of frustration leaden with tiredness and Charles realised that he’d have to say something unless he wanted to be strangled in his sleep.
“Her name was Angel.” He muttered softly, not looking away from Erik’s form as his friend turned his head and stared at Charles in the dark. Even in the dark Charles could tell Erik didn’t have a clue what he was on about so he elaborated, his voice hitching and sounding embarrassingly vulnerable. “The Vampire. Her name was Angel.”
Erik snorted and Charles frowned. “Someone has a sick sense of humour.” Erik said as he rolled onto his side so he could look at Charles easier. He frowned himself when he took in how tense Charles seemed. “What’s this about Charles?”
Charles sighed and grimaced as he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, avoiding Erik’s gaze. “What this is about Erik, is the fact that the Vampire we killed today was a human once. She had a family, friends, a life. And because of something she couldn’t control she was made into a monster.” Charles reached out a hand and rested it on his head as he stared at the ceiling. “It’s just... I could.... I might...”
“You might end up the same way?” Erik finished as he sat up in his bed and stared at Charles’ stiff form. Charles refused to look away from the ceiling, choosing instead to give a half-shrug as Erik sighed. “Charles.” The older man started. “You don’t have it in you to be a monster. Seriously.”
“Everyone has the capacity for evil Erik. Even me.” Charles bit out as he entwined his fingers in his hair and gripped tightly. “Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but the inevitable truth of the matter is this; my powers, my abilities are not natural. They’re not God-given and I hate to wonder if I’m more alike to the things we hunt than I am to regular people.”
“Uh. Hello. I’m not exactly regular Charles. No hunter is.” Erik pointed out as he flipped the bedside lamp on and stared pointedly at Charles’ face. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe one day you’ll become a monster that’ll be hunted down in the dark.” Erik continued and Charles’ eyes locked with his own, shock and betrayal clear in the blue eyes. “But, I’m going to do everything in my not-so-inconsiderate power to make sure that doesn’t happen, you hear me?”
Charles stared in surprise as Erik looked pointedly him, the older man’s eyes burning brightly with a challenging gaze. One that Charles doubted even God himself could argue against and so Charles sighed and nodded his understanding.
“Good.” Erik said roughly as he lay back down and flipped the lamp back off. “Now go the hell to sleep Charles.” He added and Charles smiled into the darkness. ‘Thank God for Erik Lensherr’, Charles thought as he closed his eyes and began to drift off.
..
..
3rd April 2011:
“I’ve told you Erik. We. Are. Lost.” Charles said forcefully as he glared at the silent man driving the Impala down the dark, misty road.
“No, we’re not.” Erik countered as he cursed silently because damnit, they were lost, but he’d be damned before he’d admit that to Charles. The last time he’d admitting to being lost, the younger man had teased the hell out of him and it had taken all of Erik’s restraint to not throttle him. Needless to say, he was not going to give the Brit any more reason to drive him insane. Not that Charles needed a reason for that though.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed in exasperation as the car engine began to splutter and die. ‘Fucking hell!’, Erik thought as the car rolled to a dead stop. Completely dead. Looking down at the fuel-gage Erik growled in frustration and smacked his hand against the steering wheel.
“We appear to have ran out of fuel.” Charles commented as he leaned over to see the dashboard. “Didn’t you fill her up at the last gas station?” Charles asked, frowning slightly as he thought back to yesterday morning. They had stopped over at a small town which had only one gas station. Erik had filled the Impala up then and in the morning they’d left. A full tank should have easily got them to the next town over.
“I...” Erik avoided Charles’ gaze, his face the picture of a guilty-criminal. “I... uh.”
“Erik.” Charles said, a warning tone in his voice and Erik shrugged in embarrassment.
“I only filled her up to the half-way mark.” Erik mumbled, studiously ignoring the way Charles glared daggers at him. “I thought we’d reach the town on it!” Erik defended as Charles groaned in exasperation.
“Great. Just great.” Charles ranted as he climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. “We are stuck, in the middle of God-knows-where because you thought half-a-tank would be enough!” Charles ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Bloody brilliant!”
“I’m sorry alright!” Erik growled as his anger bubbled to the surface and he scowled at the pacing Brit as he too climbed out of the Impala. “We can sleep in the Impala tonight and I’ll go looking for fuel tomorrow morning.” Erik reasoned, trying to calm himself down because really, shooting Charles now would just be a bad move. Though it’d probably be infinitely satisfying.
“I am not sleeping in the Impala Erik.” Charles said firmly as he stopped pacing and stared down Erik, who wisely looked away first. Sometimes, for such a short and dainty man, Charles could be damned nasty with his mouth; it was probably why him and Hank got on so well. Birds of a psychotic feather and all that malarkey, and Erik really didn't want to have his entire ego destroyed by Charles' repertoire.
Erik frowned as he stared along the dirt, track road the Impala had happily chosen to die on, and saw, in the distance, a shed of some sort not too far away. “Look.” He said as he raised a hand and pointed towards the shed.
Charles’ gaze immediately moved to follow Erik’s line of sight and he frowned in confusion. “Is that a shack?” He asked as he took a step forwards, as though one step would help him see the thing better.
“Looks like it.” Erik answered as he opened the door to the Impala and messed around with the clutch and the gears. “I’m going to push her up to it. You scout ahead and check to see if anybody’s home.” Erik added as he braced his shoulder against the door frame and began to push the heavy car along the road.
“Around here?” Charles said in disbelief but he quickly added. “Okay. Alright.” When Erik glared at him. “Don’t strain yourself.” Charles smirked at Erik who ignored him as he made his way along the road, towards the shack.
Quickly Charles made his way to the shack and, after a quick look around and inside it, deemed it both habitable for them and not belonging to anybody. He pulled out the torch in his jacket pocket and shone the thin beam of light into the darkened shack, checking the walls and the roof for any damage that could make it unsafe or liable to flood; he was still angry at Erik for that barn last month, if he’d have known he was going to get a wet wake-up call he’d have booked himself into the Ritz hotel.
The sound of the Impala being pushed drew Charles’ attention from the shack and he exited it to find Erik standing next to the Impala, now parked to the side of the road just beside the shack. Frowning slightly Charles made his way over to his friend and tapped the roof of the car. “It’s habitable.” He said shortly as he wondered just how strong Erik had to be to move the Impala so... easily. “Difficult car to move?” He asked innocently.
“Not really.” Erik answered shortly, glaring at Charles. “Would have been harder if you’d have tried to help.” He added smirking as Charles scowled at him. “Salt the perimeter. I’ll set up the wards.”
Tossing a box of rock salt at the Brit, Erik grabbed a small hand-bag from the trunk and strolled into the shack, pointedly ignoring the way Charles muttered murderous comments under his breath. In silent efficiency, Charles quickly salted a small ring around the Impala and the shack before moving inside to salt the windows and door.
“You’re going to sleep now?” Charles asked as he realised that Erik had already warded the place and was settling down on the floor, a roll-out blanket over him.
“Yep.” Erik answered shortly as he rolled onto his side, ignoring the way the ground pushed against his hipbone. “Night.” He added as he closed his eyes and suppressed a smile at Charles’ muttered comments.
“Dandy.” Sarcasm suited Charles too well. It really did.
..
..
4th April 2011:
Slowly, blurrily, Charles opened his eyes as he tried to orientate himself. Where was he? Why was lying on the ground? Why did it feel like someone had dropped a tonne weight on his chest? And why was there a line of salt next to his?
Salt.
Oh... right, salt.
Suddenly alert Charles sat up and was surprised that one; the tonne weight was actually another blanket and two; he was alone in the shack. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked around until his rapidly improving eyesight spied a note stuck to a packet of crisps and a water bottle. Frowning, Charles pushed the blankets off himself and stood up, stretching his sore back as he did so. ‘I am never sleeping on the damned ground ever again’, he thought forcefully as he stepped over to the crisps and water bottle.
“Don’t panic. Gone looking for some fuel. Be back later. Erik.” Charles read aloud as he stared at the note for a long moment.
He blinked once.
Twice.
“I’m going to kill him.” He said to nothing in particular as he scrunched up the note and tossed it aside, picking up the water bottle and crisps.
“A feast fit for a king.” He muttered as he stared at his breakfast. Sighing and mentally telling himself to cowboy-up, Charles took a swig of the water before opening the packet of crisps and tucking in. “Next time, I’m getting the supplies.”
..
..
It was late in the evening when Charles’ sensitive hearing picked up the sound of someone approaching the shack and, as per a paranoid existence, he picked up the shotgun beside him and cautiously poked his head out the door of the shack only to come face-to-face with Erik’s surprised face.
“Gah!” Charles cried out as he fell backwards and landed on his arse, his feet resting in the salt line of the door and he glared up at Erik. “Why didn’t you call out?” He demanded as he dragged himself to his feet, not noticing the gap in the salt line that his boot had created.
“Sorry.” Erik said, not answering his question as he pushed past the shorter man. “Got the gas and something to eat too.” He continued as he placed the bag in his right hand on the rickety table and the jerry can on the floor next to it.
Charles stared at Erik, breathing heavily as the adrenaline rushed through his system. “I’ll fill the tank. You get the stuff together.” He said shortly as he picked up the jerry can, refusing to groan aloud at how heavy the damned thing was, and he half-dragged, half-waddled out to the Impala with it.
He mentally called Erik a dozen or so names that he’d never say aloud as he carefully began the process of transferring the gas from the can to the tank. A process that would take him at least ten minutes, regardless of whether he bitched or not.
He heard the sound of Erik shuffling around and packing away in the shack as he continued to pour the gas into the tank and, by the time there were only dredges left in the can, he fully expected Erik to be ready with the bags by the car. Except he wasn’t.
“Erik?” Charles called out as he dropped the, now empty, jerry can on the ground and closed the tank cap. He frowned when he received no response and cautiously moved towards the shack. “Erik?” He called again as he tentatively took a step into the shack.
Standing in the middle of the shack, Erik held one of the rock salt shells aloft in the air and Charles watched in confusion, and fear, as Erik calmly dropped the shell and crushed it with the heel of his boot. ‘That’s not Erik’, Charles thought as he instinctively reached behind his back and gripped the berretta in his waistband, swinging the handgun around, mentally steeling himself to fire upon his friend. But as he raised the gun and took aim he found it flying out of his hands as he was flung into the wall of the shack.
He let out a cry of pained surprise as his head collided with the wall hard enough to make him see stars for a moment. He tried to move but found himself quite literally stuck to the wall and he couldn’t move his arms, legs or even his head. He was well and truly trapped. ‘Shit.’
A deep, throaty chuckle emanated from Erik and Charles’ attention was drawn to the slowly turning monster wearing his friends face. What had been soft, green eyes last night were now sickeningly yellow orbs set in a white background. Charles stared in horror as the monster in Erik’s body slowly walked towards him, sauntered, and he swallowed convulsively when it reached out a hand, a warm, calloused hand that he knew so well, and lightly stroked Charles’ cheek.
“Who are you?” Charles breathed out as he stared wide-eyed at the face he knew so very well but right now it was more foreign to him than a strangers. Though Charles wasn’t one to openly admit things, he was absolutely fucking terrified.
“Can’t you read my mind Charles?” Erik’s voice drifted through the shack and Charles had to mentally remind himself that this was not Erik. The Demon, because even Charles knew that this wasn’t an earthly creature in his friend’s body, smirked in amusement, it’s yellow-eyes sparkling with malice and humour. “Oh wait...” It breathed out in mock realisation. “You can’t can you?”
Charles swallowed and stared in fear at the smirking not-Erik before him. He flinched back and turned his head to the side as the back of his head hit the wall when the Demon shot forward until his face was centimetres from Charles’ own. He was so close that Charles could feel the hot puffs of breath on his cheek and, against every logical thought in his mind and every instinctive response any and every human experienced, Charles slowly turned his face so he was looking into those poisonous yellow orbs.
“Since I can’t read your mind. You’ll have to tell me your name.” Charles said as levelly as he could manage, refusing to look away from those horrid eyes that filled with mirth and something that vaguely resembled respect. The Demon smirked at him with Erik’s smirk and, for a long moment, Charles truly believed that he was about to die there-and-then but then the Demon was stepping backwards and looking him up and down. Like he was a piece of meat.
“The name’s Shaw.” The Demon, Shaw, said pleasantly. “Erik knows me pretty well, though he’s never seen my face; in any of the meat suits I’ve worn over the years.” Shaw added as he waved a hand and all of the weapons that he and Erik used in their hunts were swept to the side into a little pile. “Messy lot aren’t you?” He commented as he raised his gaze to meet with Charles’ own.
Charles didn’t respond, choosing instead to watch as Shaw, ‘Not Erik. Not Erik. It’s not Erik!’, casually strode over to where the blankets were wrapped up. “Especially in certain areas.” Shaw added as he glanced down at the blankets which suddenly unrolled themselves to cover a large enough expanse of the wooden flooring that half the floor was now carpeted. Big enough for two people...
“I wonder if you’re just as messy.” Shaw continued conversationally as he walked back over to stand in front of Charles, looking down appreciatively at the younger man. “I bet you’re the loud type. Prim and proper out in the world.” Shaw leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over Charles’ taught neck as the younger man turned his head away. “It’s always the quiet one’s, that’s what they say isn’t it?”
Charles let out a cry of surprise and pain as Shaw bit down sharply on Charles’ neck, hard enough to draw blood, and the younger man tried to thrash and get the fuck away, but he couldn’t because he still couldn’t move. Shaw grinned against Charles’ neck, running his tongue over the punctured flesh causing Charles to moan in pain. “Yum.” Shaw breathed out as he lifted his head slowly to look into Charles’ wide, fearful and pain gaze. “Exotic.”
‘Please God... help me’, Charles prayed as Shaw’s hand shot out and his fingers wrapped themselves around Charles’ hair. He let out a cry of pain as Shaw viscously wrenched his head to the side, making his neck muscles contort and stretch painfully.
“God’s not here Charlie-boy.” Shaw hissed sharply into Charles’ ear before biting down on it making him cry out again. “Only you and me.” He added as he pulled Charles, by his hair, away from the wall and threw him down onto the blankets.
The force of hitting the ground knocked the air out of his lungs but Charles began to scramble backwards, ‘Get away. Get away. Get the fuck away!’, only for his attempts to flee to be halted in their tracks as he was suddenly forced down, flat on his back with his arms and legs spread. He stared up in absolute terror as Shaw grinned down at him.
“Erik!” Charles cried out, hoping against hope that his friend was in there and could stop this monster. “Erik! Listen to me please! Don’t let him do this!”
Shaw laughed harshly as he straddled Charles’ waist and gripped Charles’ throat in a calloused palm. “Oh Charlie-boy.” He sighed as he slowly began to tighten his grip around Charles’ throat, making the younger man gasp and choke. “Don’t you get it. Erik can’t stop me. You can’t stop me.”
Leaning down close to Charles’ face Shaw grinned darkly, his yellow eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. “We’re going to have some fun tonight Charlie-boy, so sit back and enjoy the ride.”
..
..
5th April 2011:
“Oh... my head.” Erik moaned as he curled up and clutched his throbbing skull tightly in his hands. “Fucking hell...”
“There’s aspirin on the table. I would recommend you take two now.” Charles said calmly as he sat on the opposite side of the shack, polishing the metal of a shotgun he held in a white-knuckled grip.
Erik slowly uncurled from the foetal position and tentatively rose to his feet, not noticing how Charles stiffened at his movements. He groaned as the throbbing in his skull increased with the change in altitude but he managed to stumble over to the table and dry-swallow two aspirin. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
“What happened?” He managed to mutter as he tried to will the pain in his head away. God he felt like death warmed over. What the hell had happened to him exactly? What had Charles done to his head? How much had he had to drink? He must have drank something.
“Oh nothing much.” Charles answered lightly but, even in his pained state, Erik picked up on the undertone of tension in his voice. “You we just possessed by the Demon we’ve been hunting for the last year, you most of your life, and he had a nice little chat with me that ended in me walloping you across the head with a metal bar before forcibly exorcising you.”
“What?” Erik exclaimed as his head snapped up and damn it, his head really hurt too much for such a revelation. He stared intently at Charles who had tensed even further after Erik’s outburst. “Charles?”
“You don’t remember?” Charles asked, his grip on the shotgun so tight that Erik was sure that there’d be grooves in the metal later. Charles looked up at Erik as the older man shook his head, wincing as he did so because you shouldn’t shake your head when it felt like it was splitting in two. “Well then.”
“What did I do?” Erik bit out, his voice low and laced with anger. He continued to stare at Charles as the younger man stopped cleaning the shotgun and stood up slowly.
“You did nothing my friend. It is Shaw, the Demon, that has caused me injury.” Charles said firmly as he stared Erik down, his eyes burning with determination, passion and... a little fear?
“Injured you?” Erik’s mind picked up on the mean behind Charles’ words and he stood up to his full height, observing how Charles tensed even further, if that was at all possible. “How?” He demanded as he took a step towards Charles only to stop short as his friend gripped the shotgun in steady hands.
“I assure you my friend.” Charles said, quirking his lips in an attempt at a smile that seemed to be more self-deprecating than Erik was sure it was meant to be. “Shaw injured me in ways that I am not unused too.” Erik was about to open his mouth and ask, demand, what Charles actually meant when the younger man moved towards the door abruptly. “We need to get moving. Hank was expecting us last night. We’ll have to call him as soon as we get cell phone reception.”
And just like that, the conversation was over as Charles left the shack, left Erik alone with a blank memory of the night before. But, just because he had no recollection of it all didn’t mean that the feelings weren’t there. And they sickened Erik to the very core of his being.
Whatever had happened, Erik knew Charles would never tell him. And so Erik himself would never know. He didn’t know whether that was a bad thing though.
..
..
21st May 2011:
Two men, laughing loudly, stumbled along the walkway towards their room, leaning heavily on each other as they did so. Both of them had drank more than the average human could consume, even the shorter of the pair had managed half-a-dozen more shots than the best drinkers could handle. They’d have one hell of a hangover in the morning, that was for sure.
Erik giggled, giggled, as he fumbled with the keycard to their room, missing the lock several times before he mastered the motor-skills necessary to open a simple door, and he dragged Charles’ smaller form through the door behind him.
Charles laughed joyously as Erik slammed the door shut, but his laughter was abruptly cut off when Erik pushed him against the door and pressed his body against Charles’ own. Looking up at Erik, his eyesight and focus blurred by the not-so-inconsiderate amount of alcohol in his system, Charles could do little but stare as Erik leaned down and pressed his lips against Charles’.
Erik moaned into the kiss but Charles tensed up, his entire body going rigid as no quantity of alcohol could overcome the instinctive fear and repulsion he felt. Without even being consciously aware of it, Charles lashed out with his mind, hitting Erik with a wave of psychic energy that threw the taller man away from him and onto his back.
Staring wide-eyed at Erik, Charles couldn’t help choking out. “I’m sorry.” Before he turned tail and scarpered out the door into the night, leaving Erik lying on the floor trying to recollect his senses.
When he finally managed to sit up, the alcoholic daze completely gone courtesy of one of the most powerful detox’s Erik had ever experienced, the first words out of his mouth were something along the lines. “What the fuck?”
..
..
Charles cautiously opened the door to the motel room, wary of any flying projectiles or hidden shadows in the darkness, and he stepped into the semi-dark room after a moment’s hesitation. Gently closing the door behind him, he reached out for the light switch only to be blinded by the lamp on the bedside table being switched on. Turning his head away from the bright light and squeezing his eyes shut, Charles’ heart jumped into his mouth as his ears picked up the sound of someone moving on one of the beds.
Daring to open his eyes, Charles squinted at the bed and managed to make out the blurred out line of Erik sitting atop the fresh bedding, staring at him reservedly. Opening his mouth to speak, Charles found he had nothing to say so, as his eyesight fully adjusted to the brightness, he snapped his mouth shut and stared back at Erik.
“Charles.” Erik said quietly, firmly, and Charles couldn’t help but tense slightly at the sound of his friend’s voice, ‘He’s not Shaw. This is Erik. This is Erik damnit!’. “We need to talk.”
..
..
Sighing nervously, Charles repressed the urge to fidget as he sat on the edge of his bed in the motel room. Opposite him Erik sat hunched over slightly, and a part of Charles’ mind was reminded of the Grotesques that sat atop of Gothic Cathedrals. The parallel was hauntingly disturbing and Charles shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thought.
“What really happened that night Charles?” Erik asked quietly, softly, and Charles looked up at the other man.
What on earth could he say exactly? Could he really tell Erik what had transpired in those eight hours that Erik himself, had no recollection of? Could Charles really do that to his friend? Did he have the courage to give Erik the truth that he was asking for?
Charles stared into Erik’s green eyes, ‘Green like the English countryside in summer’, and knew that he could, did, would. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Charles steeled himself and began to speak. His voice never rising above a whisper but it was deafeningly loud in the, far too bright, motel room.
“You came back with fuel. I don’t know what time but it was after sunset. You seemed... strange... off but I didn’t concern myself with that. I filled up the Impala’s tank whilst you packed our gear up ready to put it in the trunk... I... I waited for you to come out but you didn’t so I went back into the shack.”
Charles’ voice hitched here and he swallowed convulsively before continuing, all the while not looking at Erik’s face. “You were standing there holding a shell... you dropped it and crushed it with your heel. I knew then... t-that it wasn’t really y-you. I was fully prepared to s-shoot you. To k-kill you.” Charles shook his head as he clenched his hands into tight fists, feeling the bite of his nailing digging into the flesh of his palms. “But I... I didn’t get the chance.” He let out a harsh laugh filled with such bitter, self-hatred that Erik winced.
“Next thing I know. I’m p-pinned to the wall and you’re there in front of me. Only it’s not y-you. It’s the D-Demon, Shaw. He’s wearing your face, your body, using your voice to talk to me and I was so scared...” Charles shuddered and Erik managed to repress the urge to envelope the other man in a hug and whisper sweet nothing’s to him.
“He mocked me. Laughed at me. And then...” Sucking in a large breath of air, Charles’ gaze slowly, reluctantly rose to lock with Erik’s own. “And then he... raped me.”
..
..
2nd June 2011:
“Hank says that he knows where this son-of-a-bitch is going to be next.” Erik said as he strode into the motel room they were staying at to find Charles sitting at the table googling away on his laptop. “Not too far from here in fact, but he wants us to stop off at his first. Says he’s got a gift for us.” Erik added as he grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge and sat down on one of the chairs next to Charles.
“Yeah I know. He called me first.” Charles said distractedly as he clicked his way through half-a-dozen pages fast enough to make Erik feel like he had whiplash. “I don’t know what he’s got but he sounded positively giddy when he told me.” He added as he stopped his googling to look up at Erik’s amused face. “What?”
“Nothing.” Erik answered smirking at Brit who rolled his eyes at the teenage antic Erik seemed to be a fan of right now. “We leave tonight.” He said, all business as he leaned back and sipped his beer.
“Alright.” Charles agreed as he returned to his googling. Erik was curious as to what his friend was looking for but he had learnt his lesson the first, and last, time he’d asked. Twenty minutes of lecturing on the historical connotations surrounding the area they were hunting in and Erik had been sure he was actually brain dead because it sure as hell felt like it.
Reaching out casually, Erik let his hand rest on the table top, silently offering it up to Charles. After their initial conversation nearly two months ago, Erik had realised early on that one; Charles did like him in that sense and two; if he wanted their relationship to work, he had to go at Charles’ pace. The fact that he felt absolutely rotten with himself probably helped him more than anything else because there had been times when he’d have loved nothing more than to fuck Charles till his brain exploded.
But he cared about Charles too much to let his silly lust get in the way. And so he waited for Charles to reach the level he was on.
Not looking away from the laptop screen, Charles reached out a hand and rested the tips of his fingers against the back of Erik’s hand. Smiling in satisfaction, Erik took another sip of his beer and couldn’t help but think, ‘Progress.’
..
..
TBC
FANDOM: X-Men First Class with Supernatural set-up
AUTHOR: Kaseykcnew
RATING: NC-17 ('cause I'm paranoid like that)
WARNINGS: Mentions of non-con, murder (of monsters), Erik/Charles, Shaw!Erik/Charles, insanity from me
SUMMARY: Written in response to this prompt on the 1stclass_kink and I should never ever fill a prompt ever again. Period.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am NEVER doing this again! Never because my brain will not stop writing this and it's getting longer the further I go with it... it was only meant to be short and simple. Instead it's taken me THREE DAYS and I'm STILL NOT FINISHED!!! GAH! *headsdesk* Stupid brain...
Vita Supernaturalis - Life of the Supernatural
Part Two
..
..
1st April 2011:
“Charles. I swear to God, if you don’t shut your mouth right now I’m going to feed you to the damned son-of-a-bitch!” Erik hissed murderously as the young man behind him who looked up at him in surprised shock.
“Charming.” Charles whispered but refrained from saying anything else lest Erik actually carry through with his threat. Silently he handed Erik the arrow tipped with Dead Man’s blood. He watched in silent fascination as Erik efficiently loaded the crossbow with the arrow. He waited in silence as Erik looked out into the darkness, searching for what they were hunting.
Though they’d only known each other for near enough a year, they had quite early fallen into a routine; permeated with late night chess matches and trips out to bars where they hustled pool or darts. Sometimes, Charles almost forgot that his first initial meeting with Erik had resulted in a angry bruise on his torso courtesy of a rock salt shell.
At first Erik hadn’t wanted Charles anywhere near him, not after the first initial meeting, but Charles nothing if not persistent and, after arguing for two hours straight with both Erik and Bobby Singer, Charles had won the right to join them on their little excursion to hunt the Demon that haunted Erik’s past. Unfortunately, they’d been too late and an entire family had been torn apart by the monstrous being, and Erik had been utterly devastated by their failure. His failure.
So Charles had stayed with him, both as a friend and a partner, and together they forged a bond between them that had saved their lives more than once. Erik was the better fighter, the more organised and powerful of the pair of them... at least, physically speaking. And Charles was the tactician, the planner, the scholar and the thinker - not that Erik was an idiot in any respect, but Erik couldn’t read a person’s thoughts and throw a blade without touching it; though Charles admitted that it tired him out very quickly and he preferred not to go all psychic on every monster they came across.
“Now.” Erik whispered softly and Charles nodded as he silently placed two fingers to his temple and focused in on their quarry. He sensed their mind, directly in front of them, a few dozen metres away and he raised a hand and pointed out into the darkness before them. Erik waited in silence as Charles forced his mind to manipulate the Vampire’s own body, no mean feat either because Vampire’s were astoundingly well-controlled with their minds, until the Vampire stumbled in the darkness before them. With no hesitation on his part, Erik swung the crossbow up and fired the arrow, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it would hit it’s mark.
They listened for a moment until they heard the sound of a body falling to the floor and they hurried out into the darkness, flicking on their torches as they did so. They found the Vampire lying in the dirt, nearly entirely paralysed from the dead man’s blood on the arrow tip and Erik handed Charles his torch as he pulled out a large silver blade.
Looking away Charles tried to block out the sounds of Erik hacking the head of the Vampire because, even though he was a hunter and had killed Vampire’s before, he had never gotten used to the fact that he could feel whatever he was killing felt. It was horrid and poisonous and so very sickening that, at times, Charles wondered if he was more of a monster than what he was hunting. Luckily however, tonight Charles had no such conflicting thoughts as Erik finished up with the Vampire.
“Wanna light the barbie?” Erik asked as he held out the lighter to Charles who silently shook his head. Frowning at Charles, Erik threw the lit lighter atop of the Vampire’s remains and together they watched in silence as the fire burnt away the last remaining traces of one of the few Vampire nests in the States. It had taken them three days of hard work, little sleep, and a hell of a lot of bitching, but they had managed to chase down and kill every single damned Vampire in this town. If Erik was honest, he couldn’t wait to see the back of it too because it was boring. He wished that he and Charles could have some time alone, just to relax and have fun, to be normal people for a while instead of ghosts off the grid hunting down evil. He wished for them to catch a break. He wished to catch the damned Demon that had haunted him all his life.
He wished for a lot of things.
His father had told him once, be careful what you wish for. Erik should have listened to him better.
..
..
“Erik.” Charles’ voice echoed around the dimly lit motel room. “Are you awake?” Charles asked as he rolled over onto his side to stare at Erik’s bed. He squinted in the darkness and was just able to make out the outline of Erik’s body on the bed. “Erik.”
“What Charles?” Erik muttered as he reluctantly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him. He had been asleep but now he was awake. Great. Not that he’d been having a good rest anyway, but that was beside the point. The point was, Charles had woke him up and Erik just wanted to sleep.
“I... uh...” Charles floundered for words as he stared at his friend’s form. He didn’t know what to say, not because he hadn’t the words to describe what he wanted, but because he didn’t have the nerve to just come out with it. Erik let out a quiet growl of frustration leaden with tiredness and Charles realised that he’d have to say something unless he wanted to be strangled in his sleep.
“Her name was Angel.” He muttered softly, not looking away from Erik’s form as his friend turned his head and stared at Charles in the dark. Even in the dark Charles could tell Erik didn’t have a clue what he was on about so he elaborated, his voice hitching and sounding embarrassingly vulnerable. “The Vampire. Her name was Angel.”
Erik snorted and Charles frowned. “Someone has a sick sense of humour.” Erik said as he rolled onto his side so he could look at Charles easier. He frowned himself when he took in how tense Charles seemed. “What’s this about Charles?”
Charles sighed and grimaced as he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, avoiding Erik’s gaze. “What this is about Erik, is the fact that the Vampire we killed today was a human once. She had a family, friends, a life. And because of something she couldn’t control she was made into a monster.” Charles reached out a hand and rested it on his head as he stared at the ceiling. “It’s just... I could.... I might...”
“You might end up the same way?” Erik finished as he sat up in his bed and stared at Charles’ stiff form. Charles refused to look away from the ceiling, choosing instead to give a half-shrug as Erik sighed. “Charles.” The older man started. “You don’t have it in you to be a monster. Seriously.”
“Everyone has the capacity for evil Erik. Even me.” Charles bit out as he entwined his fingers in his hair and gripped tightly. “Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but the inevitable truth of the matter is this; my powers, my abilities are not natural. They’re not God-given and I hate to wonder if I’m more alike to the things we hunt than I am to regular people.”
“Uh. Hello. I’m not exactly regular Charles. No hunter is.” Erik pointed out as he flipped the bedside lamp on and stared pointedly at Charles’ face. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe one day you’ll become a monster that’ll be hunted down in the dark.” Erik continued and Charles’ eyes locked with his own, shock and betrayal clear in the blue eyes. “But, I’m going to do everything in my not-so-inconsiderate power to make sure that doesn’t happen, you hear me?”
Charles stared in surprise as Erik looked pointedly him, the older man’s eyes burning brightly with a challenging gaze. One that Charles doubted even God himself could argue against and so Charles sighed and nodded his understanding.
“Good.” Erik said roughly as he lay back down and flipped the lamp back off. “Now go the hell to sleep Charles.” He added and Charles smiled into the darkness. ‘Thank God for Erik Lensherr’, Charles thought as he closed his eyes and began to drift off.
..
..
3rd April 2011:
“I’ve told you Erik. We. Are. Lost.” Charles said forcefully as he glared at the silent man driving the Impala down the dark, misty road.
“No, we’re not.” Erik countered as he cursed silently because damnit, they were lost, but he’d be damned before he’d admit that to Charles. The last time he’d admitting to being lost, the younger man had teased the hell out of him and it had taken all of Erik’s restraint to not throttle him. Needless to say, he was not going to give the Brit any more reason to drive him insane. Not that Charles needed a reason for that though.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed in exasperation as the car engine began to splutter and die. ‘Fucking hell!’, Erik thought as the car rolled to a dead stop. Completely dead. Looking down at the fuel-gage Erik growled in frustration and smacked his hand against the steering wheel.
“We appear to have ran out of fuel.” Charles commented as he leaned over to see the dashboard. “Didn’t you fill her up at the last gas station?” Charles asked, frowning slightly as he thought back to yesterday morning. They had stopped over at a small town which had only one gas station. Erik had filled the Impala up then and in the morning they’d left. A full tank should have easily got them to the next town over.
“I...” Erik avoided Charles’ gaze, his face the picture of a guilty-criminal. “I... uh.”
“Erik.” Charles said, a warning tone in his voice and Erik shrugged in embarrassment.
“I only filled her up to the half-way mark.” Erik mumbled, studiously ignoring the way Charles glared daggers at him. “I thought we’d reach the town on it!” Erik defended as Charles groaned in exasperation.
“Great. Just great.” Charles ranted as he climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. “We are stuck, in the middle of God-knows-where because you thought half-a-tank would be enough!” Charles ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Bloody brilliant!”
“I’m sorry alright!” Erik growled as his anger bubbled to the surface and he scowled at the pacing Brit as he too climbed out of the Impala. “We can sleep in the Impala tonight and I’ll go looking for fuel tomorrow morning.” Erik reasoned, trying to calm himself down because really, shooting Charles now would just be a bad move. Though it’d probably be infinitely satisfying.
“I am not sleeping in the Impala Erik.” Charles said firmly as he stopped pacing and stared down Erik, who wisely looked away first. Sometimes, for such a short and dainty man, Charles could be damned nasty with his mouth; it was probably why him and Hank got on so well. Birds of a psychotic feather and all that malarkey, and Erik really didn't want to have his entire ego destroyed by Charles' repertoire.
Erik frowned as he stared along the dirt, track road the Impala had happily chosen to die on, and saw, in the distance, a shed of some sort not too far away. “Look.” He said as he raised a hand and pointed towards the shed.
Charles’ gaze immediately moved to follow Erik’s line of sight and he frowned in confusion. “Is that a shack?” He asked as he took a step forwards, as though one step would help him see the thing better.
“Looks like it.” Erik answered as he opened the door to the Impala and messed around with the clutch and the gears. “I’m going to push her up to it. You scout ahead and check to see if anybody’s home.” Erik added as he braced his shoulder against the door frame and began to push the heavy car along the road.
“Around here?” Charles said in disbelief but he quickly added. “Okay. Alright.” When Erik glared at him. “Don’t strain yourself.” Charles smirked at Erik who ignored him as he made his way along the road, towards the shack.
Quickly Charles made his way to the shack and, after a quick look around and inside it, deemed it both habitable for them and not belonging to anybody. He pulled out the torch in his jacket pocket and shone the thin beam of light into the darkened shack, checking the walls and the roof for any damage that could make it unsafe or liable to flood; he was still angry at Erik for that barn last month, if he’d have known he was going to get a wet wake-up call he’d have booked himself into the Ritz hotel.
The sound of the Impala being pushed drew Charles’ attention from the shack and he exited it to find Erik standing next to the Impala, now parked to the side of the road just beside the shack. Frowning slightly Charles made his way over to his friend and tapped the roof of the car. “It’s habitable.” He said shortly as he wondered just how strong Erik had to be to move the Impala so... easily. “Difficult car to move?” He asked innocently.
“Not really.” Erik answered shortly, glaring at Charles. “Would have been harder if you’d have tried to help.” He added smirking as Charles scowled at him. “Salt the perimeter. I’ll set up the wards.”
Tossing a box of rock salt at the Brit, Erik grabbed a small hand-bag from the trunk and strolled into the shack, pointedly ignoring the way Charles muttered murderous comments under his breath. In silent efficiency, Charles quickly salted a small ring around the Impala and the shack before moving inside to salt the windows and door.
“You’re going to sleep now?” Charles asked as he realised that Erik had already warded the place and was settling down on the floor, a roll-out blanket over him.
“Yep.” Erik answered shortly as he rolled onto his side, ignoring the way the ground pushed against his hipbone. “Night.” He added as he closed his eyes and suppressed a smile at Charles’ muttered comments.
“Dandy.” Sarcasm suited Charles too well. It really did.
..
..
4th April 2011:
Slowly, blurrily, Charles opened his eyes as he tried to orientate himself. Where was he? Why was lying on the ground? Why did it feel like someone had dropped a tonne weight on his chest? And why was there a line of salt next to his?
Salt.
Oh... right, salt.
Suddenly alert Charles sat up and was surprised that one; the tonne weight was actually another blanket and two; he was alone in the shack. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked around until his rapidly improving eyesight spied a note stuck to a packet of crisps and a water bottle. Frowning, Charles pushed the blankets off himself and stood up, stretching his sore back as he did so. ‘I am never sleeping on the damned ground ever again’, he thought forcefully as he stepped over to the crisps and water bottle.
“Don’t panic. Gone looking for some fuel. Be back later. Erik.” Charles read aloud as he stared at the note for a long moment.
He blinked once.
Twice.
“I’m going to kill him.” He said to nothing in particular as he scrunched up the note and tossed it aside, picking up the water bottle and crisps.
“A feast fit for a king.” He muttered as he stared at his breakfast. Sighing and mentally telling himself to cowboy-up, Charles took a swig of the water before opening the packet of crisps and tucking in. “Next time, I’m getting the supplies.”
..
..
It was late in the evening when Charles’ sensitive hearing picked up the sound of someone approaching the shack and, as per a paranoid existence, he picked up the shotgun beside him and cautiously poked his head out the door of the shack only to come face-to-face with Erik’s surprised face.
“Gah!” Charles cried out as he fell backwards and landed on his arse, his feet resting in the salt line of the door and he glared up at Erik. “Why didn’t you call out?” He demanded as he dragged himself to his feet, not noticing the gap in the salt line that his boot had created.
“Sorry.” Erik said, not answering his question as he pushed past the shorter man. “Got the gas and something to eat too.” He continued as he placed the bag in his right hand on the rickety table and the jerry can on the floor next to it.
Charles stared at Erik, breathing heavily as the adrenaline rushed through his system. “I’ll fill the tank. You get the stuff together.” He said shortly as he picked up the jerry can, refusing to groan aloud at how heavy the damned thing was, and he half-dragged, half-waddled out to the Impala with it.
He mentally called Erik a dozen or so names that he’d never say aloud as he carefully began the process of transferring the gas from the can to the tank. A process that would take him at least ten minutes, regardless of whether he bitched or not.
He heard the sound of Erik shuffling around and packing away in the shack as he continued to pour the gas into the tank and, by the time there were only dredges left in the can, he fully expected Erik to be ready with the bags by the car. Except he wasn’t.
“Erik?” Charles called out as he dropped the, now empty, jerry can on the ground and closed the tank cap. He frowned when he received no response and cautiously moved towards the shack. “Erik?” He called again as he tentatively took a step into the shack.
Standing in the middle of the shack, Erik held one of the rock salt shells aloft in the air and Charles watched in confusion, and fear, as Erik calmly dropped the shell and crushed it with the heel of his boot. ‘That’s not Erik’, Charles thought as he instinctively reached behind his back and gripped the berretta in his waistband, swinging the handgun around, mentally steeling himself to fire upon his friend. But as he raised the gun and took aim he found it flying out of his hands as he was flung into the wall of the shack.
He let out a cry of pained surprise as his head collided with the wall hard enough to make him see stars for a moment. He tried to move but found himself quite literally stuck to the wall and he couldn’t move his arms, legs or even his head. He was well and truly trapped. ‘Shit.’
A deep, throaty chuckle emanated from Erik and Charles’ attention was drawn to the slowly turning monster wearing his friends face. What had been soft, green eyes last night were now sickeningly yellow orbs set in a white background. Charles stared in horror as the monster in Erik’s body slowly walked towards him, sauntered, and he swallowed convulsively when it reached out a hand, a warm, calloused hand that he knew so well, and lightly stroked Charles’ cheek.
“Who are you?” Charles breathed out as he stared wide-eyed at the face he knew so very well but right now it was more foreign to him than a strangers. Though Charles wasn’t one to openly admit things, he was absolutely fucking terrified.
“Can’t you read my mind Charles?” Erik’s voice drifted through the shack and Charles had to mentally remind himself that this was not Erik. The Demon, because even Charles knew that this wasn’t an earthly creature in his friend’s body, smirked in amusement, it’s yellow-eyes sparkling with malice and humour. “Oh wait...” It breathed out in mock realisation. “You can’t can you?”
Charles swallowed and stared in fear at the smirking not-Erik before him. He flinched back and turned his head to the side as the back of his head hit the wall when the Demon shot forward until his face was centimetres from Charles’ own. He was so close that Charles could feel the hot puffs of breath on his cheek and, against every logical thought in his mind and every instinctive response any and every human experienced, Charles slowly turned his face so he was looking into those poisonous yellow orbs.
“Since I can’t read your mind. You’ll have to tell me your name.” Charles said as levelly as he could manage, refusing to look away from those horrid eyes that filled with mirth and something that vaguely resembled respect. The Demon smirked at him with Erik’s smirk and, for a long moment, Charles truly believed that he was about to die there-and-then but then the Demon was stepping backwards and looking him up and down. Like he was a piece of meat.
“The name’s Shaw.” The Demon, Shaw, said pleasantly. “Erik knows me pretty well, though he’s never seen my face; in any of the meat suits I’ve worn over the years.” Shaw added as he waved a hand and all of the weapons that he and Erik used in their hunts were swept to the side into a little pile. “Messy lot aren’t you?” He commented as he raised his gaze to meet with Charles’ own.
Charles didn’t respond, choosing instead to watch as Shaw, ‘Not Erik. Not Erik. It’s not Erik!’, casually strode over to where the blankets were wrapped up. “Especially in certain areas.” Shaw added as he glanced down at the blankets which suddenly unrolled themselves to cover a large enough expanse of the wooden flooring that half the floor was now carpeted. Big enough for two people...
“I wonder if you’re just as messy.” Shaw continued conversationally as he walked back over to stand in front of Charles, looking down appreciatively at the younger man. “I bet you’re the loud type. Prim and proper out in the world.” Shaw leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over Charles’ taught neck as the younger man turned his head away. “It’s always the quiet one’s, that’s what they say isn’t it?”
Charles let out a cry of surprise and pain as Shaw bit down sharply on Charles’ neck, hard enough to draw blood, and the younger man tried to thrash and get the fuck away, but he couldn’t because he still couldn’t move. Shaw grinned against Charles’ neck, running his tongue over the punctured flesh causing Charles to moan in pain. “Yum.” Shaw breathed out as he lifted his head slowly to look into Charles’ wide, fearful and pain gaze. “Exotic.”
‘Please God... help me’, Charles prayed as Shaw’s hand shot out and his fingers wrapped themselves around Charles’ hair. He let out a cry of pain as Shaw viscously wrenched his head to the side, making his neck muscles contort and stretch painfully.
“God’s not here Charlie-boy.” Shaw hissed sharply into Charles’ ear before biting down on it making him cry out again. “Only you and me.” He added as he pulled Charles, by his hair, away from the wall and threw him down onto the blankets.
The force of hitting the ground knocked the air out of his lungs but Charles began to scramble backwards, ‘Get away. Get away. Get the fuck away!’, only for his attempts to flee to be halted in their tracks as he was suddenly forced down, flat on his back with his arms and legs spread. He stared up in absolute terror as Shaw grinned down at him.
“Erik!” Charles cried out, hoping against hope that his friend was in there and could stop this monster. “Erik! Listen to me please! Don’t let him do this!”
Shaw laughed harshly as he straddled Charles’ waist and gripped Charles’ throat in a calloused palm. “Oh Charlie-boy.” He sighed as he slowly began to tighten his grip around Charles’ throat, making the younger man gasp and choke. “Don’t you get it. Erik can’t stop me. You can’t stop me.”
Leaning down close to Charles’ face Shaw grinned darkly, his yellow eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. “We’re going to have some fun tonight Charlie-boy, so sit back and enjoy the ride.”
..
..
5th April 2011:
“Oh... my head.” Erik moaned as he curled up and clutched his throbbing skull tightly in his hands. “Fucking hell...”
“There’s aspirin on the table. I would recommend you take two now.” Charles said calmly as he sat on the opposite side of the shack, polishing the metal of a shotgun he held in a white-knuckled grip.
Erik slowly uncurled from the foetal position and tentatively rose to his feet, not noticing how Charles stiffened at his movements. He groaned as the throbbing in his skull increased with the change in altitude but he managed to stumble over to the table and dry-swallow two aspirin. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
“What happened?” He managed to mutter as he tried to will the pain in his head away. God he felt like death warmed over. What the hell had happened to him exactly? What had Charles done to his head? How much had he had to drink? He must have drank something.
“Oh nothing much.” Charles answered lightly but, even in his pained state, Erik picked up on the undertone of tension in his voice. “You we just possessed by the Demon we’ve been hunting for the last year, you most of your life, and he had a nice little chat with me that ended in me walloping you across the head with a metal bar before forcibly exorcising you.”
“What?” Erik exclaimed as his head snapped up and damn it, his head really hurt too much for such a revelation. He stared intently at Charles who had tensed even further after Erik’s outburst. “Charles?”
“You don’t remember?” Charles asked, his grip on the shotgun so tight that Erik was sure that there’d be grooves in the metal later. Charles looked up at Erik as the older man shook his head, wincing as he did so because you shouldn’t shake your head when it felt like it was splitting in two. “Well then.”
“What did I do?” Erik bit out, his voice low and laced with anger. He continued to stare at Charles as the younger man stopped cleaning the shotgun and stood up slowly.
“You did nothing my friend. It is Shaw, the Demon, that has caused me injury.” Charles said firmly as he stared Erik down, his eyes burning with determination, passion and... a little fear?
“Injured you?” Erik’s mind picked up on the mean behind Charles’ words and he stood up to his full height, observing how Charles tensed even further, if that was at all possible. “How?” He demanded as he took a step towards Charles only to stop short as his friend gripped the shotgun in steady hands.
“I assure you my friend.” Charles said, quirking his lips in an attempt at a smile that seemed to be more self-deprecating than Erik was sure it was meant to be. “Shaw injured me in ways that I am not unused too.” Erik was about to open his mouth and ask, demand, what Charles actually meant when the younger man moved towards the door abruptly. “We need to get moving. Hank was expecting us last night. We’ll have to call him as soon as we get cell phone reception.”
And just like that, the conversation was over as Charles left the shack, left Erik alone with a blank memory of the night before. But, just because he had no recollection of it all didn’t mean that the feelings weren’t there. And they sickened Erik to the very core of his being.
Whatever had happened, Erik knew Charles would never tell him. And so Erik himself would never know. He didn’t know whether that was a bad thing though.
..
..
21st May 2011:
Two men, laughing loudly, stumbled along the walkway towards their room, leaning heavily on each other as they did so. Both of them had drank more than the average human could consume, even the shorter of the pair had managed half-a-dozen more shots than the best drinkers could handle. They’d have one hell of a hangover in the morning, that was for sure.
Erik giggled, giggled, as he fumbled with the keycard to their room, missing the lock several times before he mastered the motor-skills necessary to open a simple door, and he dragged Charles’ smaller form through the door behind him.
Charles laughed joyously as Erik slammed the door shut, but his laughter was abruptly cut off when Erik pushed him against the door and pressed his body against Charles’ own. Looking up at Erik, his eyesight and focus blurred by the not-so-inconsiderate amount of alcohol in his system, Charles could do little but stare as Erik leaned down and pressed his lips against Charles’.
Erik moaned into the kiss but Charles tensed up, his entire body going rigid as no quantity of alcohol could overcome the instinctive fear and repulsion he felt. Without even being consciously aware of it, Charles lashed out with his mind, hitting Erik with a wave of psychic energy that threw the taller man away from him and onto his back.
Staring wide-eyed at Erik, Charles couldn’t help choking out. “I’m sorry.” Before he turned tail and scarpered out the door into the night, leaving Erik lying on the floor trying to recollect his senses.
When he finally managed to sit up, the alcoholic daze completely gone courtesy of one of the most powerful detox’s Erik had ever experienced, the first words out of his mouth were something along the lines. “What the fuck?”
..
..
Charles cautiously opened the door to the motel room, wary of any flying projectiles or hidden shadows in the darkness, and he stepped into the semi-dark room after a moment’s hesitation. Gently closing the door behind him, he reached out for the light switch only to be blinded by the lamp on the bedside table being switched on. Turning his head away from the bright light and squeezing his eyes shut, Charles’ heart jumped into his mouth as his ears picked up the sound of someone moving on one of the beds.
Daring to open his eyes, Charles squinted at the bed and managed to make out the blurred out line of Erik sitting atop the fresh bedding, staring at him reservedly. Opening his mouth to speak, Charles found he had nothing to say so, as his eyesight fully adjusted to the brightness, he snapped his mouth shut and stared back at Erik.
“Charles.” Erik said quietly, firmly, and Charles couldn’t help but tense slightly at the sound of his friend’s voice, ‘He’s not Shaw. This is Erik. This is Erik damnit!’. “We need to talk.”
..
..
Sighing nervously, Charles repressed the urge to fidget as he sat on the edge of his bed in the motel room. Opposite him Erik sat hunched over slightly, and a part of Charles’ mind was reminded of the Grotesques that sat atop of Gothic Cathedrals. The parallel was hauntingly disturbing and Charles shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thought.
“What really happened that night Charles?” Erik asked quietly, softly, and Charles looked up at the other man.
What on earth could he say exactly? Could he really tell Erik what had transpired in those eight hours that Erik himself, had no recollection of? Could Charles really do that to his friend? Did he have the courage to give Erik the truth that he was asking for?
Charles stared into Erik’s green eyes, ‘Green like the English countryside in summer’, and knew that he could, did, would. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Charles steeled himself and began to speak. His voice never rising above a whisper but it was deafeningly loud in the, far too bright, motel room.
“You came back with fuel. I don’t know what time but it was after sunset. You seemed... strange... off but I didn’t concern myself with that. I filled up the Impala’s tank whilst you packed our gear up ready to put it in the trunk... I... I waited for you to come out but you didn’t so I went back into the shack.”
Charles’ voice hitched here and he swallowed convulsively before continuing, all the while not looking at Erik’s face. “You were standing there holding a shell... you dropped it and crushed it with your heel. I knew then... t-that it wasn’t really y-you. I was fully prepared to s-shoot you. To k-kill you.” Charles shook his head as he clenched his hands into tight fists, feeling the bite of his nailing digging into the flesh of his palms. “But I... I didn’t get the chance.” He let out a harsh laugh filled with such bitter, self-hatred that Erik winced.
“Next thing I know. I’m p-pinned to the wall and you’re there in front of me. Only it’s not y-you. It’s the D-Demon, Shaw. He’s wearing your face, your body, using your voice to talk to me and I was so scared...” Charles shuddered and Erik managed to repress the urge to envelope the other man in a hug and whisper sweet nothing’s to him.
“He mocked me. Laughed at me. And then...” Sucking in a large breath of air, Charles’ gaze slowly, reluctantly rose to lock with Erik’s own. “And then he... raped me.”
..
..
2nd June 2011:
“Hank says that he knows where this son-of-a-bitch is going to be next.” Erik said as he strode into the motel room they were staying at to find Charles sitting at the table googling away on his laptop. “Not too far from here in fact, but he wants us to stop off at his first. Says he’s got a gift for us.” Erik added as he grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge and sat down on one of the chairs next to Charles.
“Yeah I know. He called me first.” Charles said distractedly as he clicked his way through half-a-dozen pages fast enough to make Erik feel like he had whiplash. “I don’t know what he’s got but he sounded positively giddy when he told me.” He added as he stopped his googling to look up at Erik’s amused face. “What?”
“Nothing.” Erik answered smirking at Brit who rolled his eyes at the teenage antic Erik seemed to be a fan of right now. “We leave tonight.” He said, all business as he leaned back and sipped his beer.
“Alright.” Charles agreed as he returned to his googling. Erik was curious as to what his friend was looking for but he had learnt his lesson the first, and last, time he’d asked. Twenty minutes of lecturing on the historical connotations surrounding the area they were hunting in and Erik had been sure he was actually brain dead because it sure as hell felt like it.
Reaching out casually, Erik let his hand rest on the table top, silently offering it up to Charles. After their initial conversation nearly two months ago, Erik had realised early on that one; Charles did like him in that sense and two; if he wanted their relationship to work, he had to go at Charles’ pace. The fact that he felt absolutely rotten with himself probably helped him more than anything else because there had been times when he’d have loved nothing more than to fuck Charles till his brain exploded.
But he cared about Charles too much to let his silly lust get in the way. And so he waited for Charles to reach the level he was on.
Not looking away from the laptop screen, Charles reached out a hand and rested the tips of his fingers against the back of Erik’s hand. Smiling in satisfaction, Erik took another sip of his beer and couldn’t help but think, ‘Progress.’
..
..
TBC