Holiday Ficlet #15: "Dreams And Anguish Bring Us Together" [X-Men: First Class]
Title: Dreams And Anguish Bring Us Together
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Characters: Alex, Hank, Sean, Charles, Erik (Charles/Erik, Erik/Raven)
Wordcount: ~ 620 words
Summary: Maybe you don't have to believe in the dream if the dream believes in you. Or maybe all of that is crap.
AN: For usakeh. The quote she gave me for a title is by French dramatist Eugene Ionesco: Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together. Mind that it's not my fault if the characters behave like misogynist brats - I have fic coming up about that, actually, but this one is not it.
Dreams And Anguish Bring Us Together
Alex can't stop when he runs.
It's got nothing to do with running away. Or maybe it has everything to do with it. Seems like nobody else wants to use the running trail anyway, now that Erik is gone, Charlie isn't looking like he'll be doing any sport again any time soon, and Beast is... blue. It used to be Raven appearing at Alex' side, face drawn and daring him to send her away, but that isn't really Alex. So he runs, until his vision blurs, until his legs bleed pain. It's better than waking up covered in sweat.
A curtain moves in a third floor window, flash of blue fur.
---
Sean can't sing.
He tries it out one time down in the bunker and it goes wrong, of course it goes wrong: Voice flipping when he loses control, the ground starts rumbling and the whole mansion has to be shaking. He curls up in the rain of debris and ends up sobbing, helplessly, perched in a corner.
He's never minded being a mutant that much, really not, but: He was a choir boy before his special change of voice. Mom in the first row clutching her rosary and beaming from happiness, ridiculous mom's pride in her eyes.
The others come rushing in with alarm and it's the first time since puberty that Sean snaps at a guy stronger than him - all three of them, Hank and Alex and Charles - ears burning red from embarrassment.
When he leaves his room a week later just to stumble over a box, he knows on first sight that the weird respirator-gone-gas mask in it must have been constructed by Hank. The writing of the note attached is Xavier's though.
Try again now.
---
Charles can't move anymore and he finds that that is what angers him most: He can't act.
Days pass by while he sits at the window and stares out of it, knowing that he can't get up and let his actions wash away the grief.
He misses Raven. Never would he have thought that he could miss her so much. And he is angry at her for not following his guidance, but more than that, he is angry at Erik who has taken her away, whispering god knew what into her ear. Who'd been supposed to share his dream.
Who'd woken up in a hotel bed next to Charles that one recruitment trip and looked at him as if his whole world had---
Don't.
Banshee is humming to himself in his room, softly trembling tenor. Charles wouldn't usually pick up on it if it wasn't for the stark focus the young man is projecting, willing the voice tamed by his damper - a ridiculous sight, but sufficient - to stay on human levels for once.
Charles closes his eyes, and listens.
---
Pebbles crunch when Hank steps onto the running trail where Alex is warming up.
He takes a deep breath, and blinks into the sun.
"About time," Alex says.
---
"Do you ever miss Charles?" Mystique asks.
"No," Erik says without pause.
He doesn't like that timid tone of voice, the one he'd thought they were past. Good that she has left the mansion if that's what talking of Charles does to her. Erik makes a mental note to sleep with her more often. It's giving her a new direction.
If he closes his eyes at the times when it's night at Westchester, it's almost as if Charles' mind is touching his, reaching out in his sleep. Erik catches shambles of a singing voice, somebody laughing one time, feet almost flying over grass.
But mostly he feels anguish and grief and a hope that's refusing to die.
It has to be the telepathy since Erik never misses Charles.
And he doesn't have dreams.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Characters: Alex, Hank, Sean, Charles, Erik (Charles/Erik, Erik/Raven)
Wordcount: ~ 620 words
Summary: Maybe you don't have to believe in the dream if the dream believes in you. Or maybe all of that is crap.
AN: For usakeh. The quote she gave me for a title is by French dramatist Eugene Ionesco: Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together. Mind that it's not my fault if the characters behave like misogynist brats - I have fic coming up about that, actually, but this one is not it.
Dreams And Anguish Bring Us Together
Alex can't stop when he runs.
It's got nothing to do with running away. Or maybe it has everything to do with it. Seems like nobody else wants to use the running trail anyway, now that Erik is gone, Charlie isn't looking like he'll be doing any sport again any time soon, and Beast is... blue. It used to be Raven appearing at Alex' side, face drawn and daring him to send her away, but that isn't really Alex. So he runs, until his vision blurs, until his legs bleed pain. It's better than waking up covered in sweat.
A curtain moves in a third floor window, flash of blue fur.
---
Sean can't sing.
He tries it out one time down in the bunker and it goes wrong, of course it goes wrong: Voice flipping when he loses control, the ground starts rumbling and the whole mansion has to be shaking. He curls up in the rain of debris and ends up sobbing, helplessly, perched in a corner.
He's never minded being a mutant that much, really not, but: He was a choir boy before his special change of voice. Mom in the first row clutching her rosary and beaming from happiness, ridiculous mom's pride in her eyes.
The others come rushing in with alarm and it's the first time since puberty that Sean snaps at a guy stronger than him - all three of them, Hank and Alex and Charles - ears burning red from embarrassment.
When he leaves his room a week later just to stumble over a box, he knows on first sight that the weird respirator-gone-gas mask in it must have been constructed by Hank. The writing of the note attached is Xavier's though.
Try again now.
---
Charles can't move anymore and he finds that that is what angers him most: He can't act.
Days pass by while he sits at the window and stares out of it, knowing that he can't get up and let his actions wash away the grief.
He misses Raven. Never would he have thought that he could miss her so much. And he is angry at her for not following his guidance, but more than that, he is angry at Erik who has taken her away, whispering god knew what into her ear. Who'd been supposed to share his dream.
Who'd woken up in a hotel bed next to Charles that one recruitment trip and looked at him as if his whole world had---
Don't.
Banshee is humming to himself in his room, softly trembling tenor. Charles wouldn't usually pick up on it if it wasn't for the stark focus the young man is projecting, willing the voice tamed by his damper - a ridiculous sight, but sufficient - to stay on human levels for once.
Charles closes his eyes, and listens.
---
Pebbles crunch when Hank steps onto the running trail where Alex is warming up.
He takes a deep breath, and blinks into the sun.
"About time," Alex says.
---
"Do you ever miss Charles?" Mystique asks.
"No," Erik says without pause.
He doesn't like that timid tone of voice, the one he'd thought they were past. Good that she has left the mansion if that's what talking of Charles does to her. Erik makes a mental note to sleep with her more often. It's giving her a new direction.
If he closes his eyes at the times when it's night at Westchester, it's almost as if Charles' mind is touching his, reaching out in his sleep. Erik catches shambles of a singing voice, somebody laughing one time, feet almost flying over grass.
But mostly he feels anguish and grief and a hope that's refusing to die.
It has to be the telepathy since Erik never misses Charles.
And he doesn't have dreams.