i've lost control of my life.
I just think you should all know that Mutants on Atlantis has taken over my life. I don't know who I am anymore. This stupid thing is 4k words long and Erik only just got to the mansion. This is long than any other SGA fic I've written and it's not even real SGA fic.
Have a glimpse:
"I miss Atlantis," Erik tells Cole plaintively.
"I'm sure you do, sir," Cole says, and Erik would glare at him for his tone, but glaring seems difficult and he doesn't want to do anything difficult. He'd like to keep lying here. Lying here is nice and easy and everything's gone a bit...soft. Soft is good. The thing that guy had hit him with hadn't been soft. The ropes hadn't been soft either. Or the ground, after Salvadore pulled him out of the cell. But this is soft. Like the gas. The gas had smelled funny but then everything had gone smooth and he liked that part.
"I miss it like... like breathing, Cole," Erik says. He feels like he shouldn't be talking, but talking is nice. His voice is nice, it sounds nice, and there are all these feelings in his brain and it's nice to say them. He knows he should be filing them away in the little feelings boxes in his brain, but that seems like a lot of work.
"I know, sir," Cole says. "Open your mouth, sir."
Erik opens his mouth and Cole shines a light inside and Erik giggles. He stops giggling when Cole sticks him with a needle.
"Ow!" he says. He does glare now, because that hurt and Erik doesn't like hurting, even though he hurts all the time now. "I hurt all the time now," he says accusingly. "No Atlantis, no Charles--you don't have to make it worse."
"I'm sorry, sir," Cole says. They're moving. It occurs to Erik that may be on a stretcher. That's nice. That's moving without work. He likes that. He likes Charles.
"I miss Charles," he says. "I love Charles. Not even missing Atlantis hurts as much as missing Charles and Charles isn't even that far away, not like Atlantis. He's in New York. He's going to visit, but I don't know when. It's already been too long. Are you in love, Cole? You should be in love. It's nice. Except for now. Now it hurts. Fuck. Don't ever be in love, Cole."
"I'll...take that under advisement, sir," Cole says. "We'll be back at the SGC soon."
"Doesn't matter," Erik says. "Charles isn't at the SGC. He's in New York. I wish he was at the SGC. Charles is incredible, Cole. He's fucking incredible. He's so--he's so smart and everyone here is smart, but Charles is so smart. And beautiful. He's gorgeous. And you should see him in bed. Wait!" Erik thinks about this. "No. No, you should never see him in bed. Just me. Only I get that. Now one else should ever see it. But it's something. And his hands--and I like when he plays with my hair. He likes my hair. I like him. I miss him so much it's like I'm dying, some days."
"That's...we're almost home, sir," Cole says.
"Am not," Erik mutters. "Never be home again, fucking Ancients. I hate them."
Then everything goes a little more fuzzy, a little more soft, and Erik's just going to close his eyes for a moment and....
***
All told, it takes forty-eight hours for the gas to wear off. Erik doesn't remember most of it, though he's told that Raven spent a fair amount of time by his bedside with her video camera. There are quite a few Marines who cough and look away when they wander by his bed, but Dr. Lam won't go into specifics with him.
"It was a truth gas," she tells him. "The idea is that they dose you and ask you questions and you're compelled to tell the truth. It has a slightly different effect on your physiology, maybe due to the X-gene, but you basically spent forty-eight hours saying every thought that passed through your mind."
Erik winces. He's private at the best of times, but lately the loss of Atlantis has been weighing heavily on him and, fuck, Charles.
"Fuck," he says.
"It happens to the best of us," Dr. Lam says. "It's our of your system now. Your blood tests all came back clear. And, honestly, you mostly talked about your boyfriend. It was very sweet. We limited access to your corner, of course, though Dr. Xavier the younger wormed her way in. I thought it might help to have a familiar face around."
Erik covers his face with his hands. "Oh god," he says.
"Honestly, I've seen much worse," she says. "At least your love is requited. I had a scientist in here once who'd been hit by something similar and spent hours talking about how he was in love with Colonel Carter. Very embarrassing all around."
Erik just sighs. "I should go see her. And call Charles. I'm sure word's spread by now."
"He called a few times, raising hell, trying to talk to you," Dr. Lam tells him. "I put him on with you once and after that he seemed content to take my word on your condition, but I'm sure he'd like to hear from you."
"Where are my clothes?" Erik asks, and Dr. Lam grabs a paper bag from the table next to his bed.
"Your phone's in there too," she says. "Come see me again before you leave."
The doctor pulls the curtain back and disappears, leaving Erik to dress and lick his wounds in peace. He's not ashamed of his relationship--he's long past any misgivings he may have had while figuring out that his interests didn't lie solely with women. But he likes to keep his private life separate from this place, as much as he can, and--
Charles is...private. Charles is something that's just his. Charles is a gentle voice in his ear when he gets home in the evenings, telling jokes and sounding just as lost and lonely as Erik feels. He doesn't want to share that. He doesn't want to be that vulnerable in front of anyone but Charles, and he doesn't want anyone but Charles to have that part of him.
When he's dressed, he stares at his phone for a moment before flipping it open and dialing the familiar number.
Charles picks up on the second ring.
"Oh thank god," he says, and something inside of Erik relaxes.
"Hello," Erik says. "Your sister may have some blackmail material."
"I don't care," Charles says. "I'm so very glad to hear your voice, Erik."
"I have to go debrief," he says. "I haven't left the infirmary yet. But I wanted to let you know that--I'm myself again."
"I think you were more yourself than you'd like to admit while you were drugged," Charles teases. "But I'm glad your mental faculties have returned. It was--"
Charles' end of the conversation goes very quiet. Erik listens to his breathing, soft, but almost pained, in the silence.
"I don't like knowing you're out there and I'm not there," Charles finally says. "It was dangerous, on Atlantis, but at least I was with you. It's not that I don't trust your new team, but." He sighs. "I can't tell you how badly I wanted to be there."
"I know," Erik says. He doesn't say how badly he wanted Charles to be there too--always wants him there, every mission, every day, every night, every morning--but he thinks it as hard as he can and pretends that Charles can hear it all the way in New York.
"Go on," Charles says. "Have Carolyn look you over and debrief and go home. Call me before you go to bed?"
"I will," Erik promises him. And then, because, what the hell, half the SGC has probably heard him say it by now, he adds, "I love you."
"I know, darling," Charles says. "I love you too."
Have a glimpse:
"I miss Atlantis," Erik tells Cole plaintively.
"I'm sure you do, sir," Cole says, and Erik would glare at him for his tone, but glaring seems difficult and he doesn't want to do anything difficult. He'd like to keep lying here. Lying here is nice and easy and everything's gone a bit...soft. Soft is good. The thing that guy had hit him with hadn't been soft. The ropes hadn't been soft either. Or the ground, after Salvadore pulled him out of the cell. But this is soft. Like the gas. The gas had smelled funny but then everything had gone smooth and he liked that part.
"I miss it like... like breathing, Cole," Erik says. He feels like he shouldn't be talking, but talking is nice. His voice is nice, it sounds nice, and there are all these feelings in his brain and it's nice to say them. He knows he should be filing them away in the little feelings boxes in his brain, but that seems like a lot of work.
"I know, sir," Cole says. "Open your mouth, sir."
Erik opens his mouth and Cole shines a light inside and Erik giggles. He stops giggling when Cole sticks him with a needle.
"Ow!" he says. He does glare now, because that hurt and Erik doesn't like hurting, even though he hurts all the time now. "I hurt all the time now," he says accusingly. "No Atlantis, no Charles--you don't have to make it worse."
"I'm sorry, sir," Cole says. They're moving. It occurs to Erik that may be on a stretcher. That's nice. That's moving without work. He likes that. He likes Charles.
"I miss Charles," he says. "I love Charles. Not even missing Atlantis hurts as much as missing Charles and Charles isn't even that far away, not like Atlantis. He's in New York. He's going to visit, but I don't know when. It's already been too long. Are you in love, Cole? You should be in love. It's nice. Except for now. Now it hurts. Fuck. Don't ever be in love, Cole."
"I'll...take that under advisement, sir," Cole says. "We'll be back at the SGC soon."
"Doesn't matter," Erik says. "Charles isn't at the SGC. He's in New York. I wish he was at the SGC. Charles is incredible, Cole. He's fucking incredible. He's so--he's so smart and everyone here is smart, but Charles is so smart. And beautiful. He's gorgeous. And you should see him in bed. Wait!" Erik thinks about this. "No. No, you should never see him in bed. Just me. Only I get that. Now one else should ever see it. But it's something. And his hands--and I like when he plays with my hair. He likes my hair. I like him. I miss him so much it's like I'm dying, some days."
"That's...we're almost home, sir," Cole says.
"Am not," Erik mutters. "Never be home again, fucking Ancients. I hate them."
Then everything goes a little more fuzzy, a little more soft, and Erik's just going to close his eyes for a moment and....
***
All told, it takes forty-eight hours for the gas to wear off. Erik doesn't remember most of it, though he's told that Raven spent a fair amount of time by his bedside with her video camera. There are quite a few Marines who cough and look away when they wander by his bed, but Dr. Lam won't go into specifics with him.
"It was a truth gas," she tells him. "The idea is that they dose you and ask you questions and you're compelled to tell the truth. It has a slightly different effect on your physiology, maybe due to the X-gene, but you basically spent forty-eight hours saying every thought that passed through your mind."
Erik winces. He's private at the best of times, but lately the loss of Atlantis has been weighing heavily on him and, fuck, Charles.
"Fuck," he says.
"It happens to the best of us," Dr. Lam says. "It's our of your system now. Your blood tests all came back clear. And, honestly, you mostly talked about your boyfriend. It was very sweet. We limited access to your corner, of course, though Dr. Xavier the younger wormed her way in. I thought it might help to have a familiar face around."
Erik covers his face with his hands. "Oh god," he says.
"Honestly, I've seen much worse," she says. "At least your love is requited. I had a scientist in here once who'd been hit by something similar and spent hours talking about how he was in love with Colonel Carter. Very embarrassing all around."
Erik just sighs. "I should go see her. And call Charles. I'm sure word's spread by now."
"He called a few times, raising hell, trying to talk to you," Dr. Lam tells him. "I put him on with you once and after that he seemed content to take my word on your condition, but I'm sure he'd like to hear from you."
"Where are my clothes?" Erik asks, and Dr. Lam grabs a paper bag from the table next to his bed.
"Your phone's in there too," she says. "Come see me again before you leave."
The doctor pulls the curtain back and disappears, leaving Erik to dress and lick his wounds in peace. He's not ashamed of his relationship--he's long past any misgivings he may have had while figuring out that his interests didn't lie solely with women. But he likes to keep his private life separate from this place, as much as he can, and--
Charles is...private. Charles is something that's just his. Charles is a gentle voice in his ear when he gets home in the evenings, telling jokes and sounding just as lost and lonely as Erik feels. He doesn't want to share that. He doesn't want to be that vulnerable in front of anyone but Charles, and he doesn't want anyone but Charles to have that part of him.
When he's dressed, he stares at his phone for a moment before flipping it open and dialing the familiar number.
Charles picks up on the second ring.
"Oh thank god," he says, and something inside of Erik relaxes.
"Hello," Erik says. "Your sister may have some blackmail material."
"I don't care," Charles says. "I'm so very glad to hear your voice, Erik."
"I have to go debrief," he says. "I haven't left the infirmary yet. But I wanted to let you know that--I'm myself again."
"I think you were more yourself than you'd like to admit while you were drugged," Charles teases. "But I'm glad your mental faculties have returned. It was--"
Charles' end of the conversation goes very quiet. Erik listens to his breathing, soft, but almost pained, in the silence.
"I don't like knowing you're out there and I'm not there," Charles finally says. "It was dangerous, on Atlantis, but at least I was with you. It's not that I don't trust your new team, but." He sighs. "I can't tell you how badly I wanted to be there."
"I know," Erik says. He doesn't say how badly he wanted Charles to be there too--always wants him there, every mission, every day, every night, every morning--but he thinks it as hard as he can and pretends that Charles can hear it all the way in New York.
"Go on," Charles says. "Have Carolyn look you over and debrief and go home. Call me before you go to bed?"
"I will," Erik promises him. And then, because, what the hell, half the SGC has probably heard him say it by now, he adds, "I love you."
"I know, darling," Charles says. "I love you too."