THE X-MEN FIRST CLASS KINK MEME: PROMPT POST

[iambickilometer]

You know why you're here. You've seen the movie. You're asking yourself, "So where was the gratuitous Emma Frost as White Queen in a corset? When did Mystique totally make it with Beast? WHY IN HEAVENS DID XAVIER AND MAGNETO NEVER MAKE OUT

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fill | holding tenderly to what remains | 5/? | warnings: post-apocalyptic au (bio); much death |

[anonymous]

In Strasbourg they break into another hotel and Sebastian goes out to try to find a way out of Strasbourg as quickly as possible. Erik raids the kitchens. Dust has settled on all the worktops but the tinned food is as good as ever. Tinned pears and a couple of tins of beans will get them through another day. Erik leaves the other tins for anyone else who might be alive to find them. They’re too heavy to carry more than a couple each, anyway.

When Sebastian comes back he crashes into the door accidentally and Erik has to clench his hands so his fingernails dig into his palms to keep himself from jumping.

“I’ve found us a truck to Paris.” Sebastian tells him. “It’s going on to Calais after.”

Erik nods and passes him a bowl of beans in the hotel’s finest china. “Calais... There’s a ship to England?” He asks.

“The soldiers we’re getting a ride with seem to think so, yes.” Sebastian says, and shovels the beans up like they might disappear if he doesn’t try to choke on them. “They seem to think their precious England will be safe.” He snorts, and Erik agrees with him. Still.

“Anywhere but mainland Europe.” Erik says, and Sebastian nods.

“Yes,” He agrees, making a face. Erik notices his eyes look a little less alive than seconds before. “There’s that.”

The next morning they wake before dawn and meet three soldiers - the remains of their squadron and just boys - and a woman with a small child in her arms at the Rue de Haguenau. Their truck is a standard army truck and it rattles them the whole seven hours to Paris. They take diesel from empty gas stations and eat the candy from beside the cash machines.

Paris smells of disease and the hot stench of rotting flesh. The woman and her child stay there and one of the soldiers promises to pray for her. She smiles at him even though she doesn’t understand English.

Another hotel. There are some frozen joints of beef and lamb and the five of them cook and eat two between them. One of the soldiers throws up after from the richness of it. They stay in Paris for two nights; long enough that the smell isn’t something they notice anymore and long enough to pick up a young girl and another soldier, this one American. Then they steal more diesel and drive north to Calais and the coast.

~~~