(FIC) I'll Follow Your Voice, All You Have To Do Is Shout It Out 2/?
Title: I'll Follow Your Voice, All You Have To Do Is Shout It Out 2/?
Author: Velocity_Girl (aka
konishi_zen)
Beta:
hankandjoel
Verse: X Men First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Status: Fix-it, canonic divergence, established friendship, broken! Erik, Bruised! Charles, eventual happy-ending.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2533
Genre: AU, Drama, Angst, Friendship, Eventual Romance.
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men or the song quoted, which is by Rise Against. I do own a stack of comic books and hockey posters, tho.
Summary: Charles makes contact with Erik. Charles and Moira discuss the next step in Erik's convalescence.
AN: I've just read "Magneto-Testament" and have been reading past issues and synopses and these have been used to flesh out Erik a bit more, but I'm obviously playing fast and loose with some parts of cannon. There is some disturbing imagery and references to ghettos and some gore. Also, Erik has been incapacitated in different times in canon, so it's not a far out stretch. Thank you to all that read and I do apologize for the lateness. Mods-could I get an author tag? Thank you.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“All because of you, I haven't slept in so long
When I do I dream, I'm drowning in the ocean
Longing for the shore, so I can lay my head down
I'll follow your voice. All you have to do is shout it out”- Rise Against.
It's different this time around. He's not in the forest of ice and silver trees that have bleeding blooms dripping blood on the pristine snow and ice underfoot. He had been there quite awhile and he likes it better than the hot beach and the glaring sun and the garbled sounds of
screaming and crying. He hates that particular memory. He doesn't know what is being said and it all hurts. He stays there for what feels like a long time, curling up into himself before he finally finds a doorway coloured a mercury gray and slips out of the beach and into the dark silver forest.
He wanders around and it is very quiet. The only sound most of the time is of the snow crunching underneath his feet. He thinks he hears that voice, whispering and talking and trying to say something to him. Let him know...he doesn't know what it wants him to know and it's
frustrating. It's the equivalent of hearing only half a conversation and he wants it to just stop.
He notices that when his moods change abruptly, the trees will change shape. They don't turn into hideous, clawing things and that he's
grateful for. No. They spread into even more graceful and more complicated flowers. It's as if his rage, sadness, despair and agony are
transmuted into something utterly beautiful instead. The sight makes a slight burst of happiness warm his chest and for a split second, the
memory of someone smiling just for him, flashes through his mind. But it gets lost too damned easily and he's left staring at a complicated
flower the colour of blood.
It isn't until the entire forest has turned into a complex tangle reminiscent of Sleeping Beauty's forest that he finally finds his way out of that forest. He still hears that voice. But it's unclear to him. He just knows that the voice isn't a bad thing. He is left with the sense of an underlying warmth from a time he can't quite grasp. So he doesn't mind when he hears it in the background. He minds the forest a bit more and isn't too heartbroken when he finally leaves with it fading behind him.
He doesn't know why it disappears after him. One minute, he's in that beautiful silver tangle with bloody flowers. The next thing he knows, he's standing outside the Polish ghetto he and his family had been shoved in to after Poland had been occupied. Erik's actually surprised
that he has that memory. He thought that it was long gone in the recesses of his mind. He figures that the years have made it the way it
appears now.
He always wonders why the sky is grey and everything that he touches is dusty. The buildings are all black silhouttes and there aren't any
people around. He can't find his mother, sister, or his father. He can't find anyone he knows. He's in a no man's land and he can't find the way out. He's crowded by skeletons in black wool coats and grinning death's heads wearing the sinister grey uniform of the German military.
It's a monochramatic nightmare around him and he can't run away from it. No matter how many times he escapes, how far he runs, he keeps seeing the same sights over and over again.
He doesn't cry. But he wants to. He thought he escaped this nightmare already. That it was safely hidden in the dark recesses of his mind.
Sealed permanently in a box. He doesn't understand why the box has been opened and all these hideous memories have been jarred loose.
He doesn't understand why he can't get out and it hurts even worse when he realizes that he's back in the same scenario. Like a morbid loop of his worst nightmares being replayed over and over again. He's also deeply thankful that he at least isn't trapped in the worst memory of them all. He's sure that he would lose his mind if he had to hear those words spoken in a tremulous voice over and over again...
“-ik. Erik. Erik. Come back to us. Come back to me. Erik...Please, Erik. Come back...”
His head snaps up and he stays still. It's the first time since he's been wandering around that he's heard the voice that clearly. He stops and waits for it to come back, knowing instinctively that if he follows the voice, he will be able to find his way out of the ghetto and the forest
and the beach. He waits and waits, hoping against hope that the voice would come back.
“Erik...Erik...Answer me if you can? Erik?”
He doesn't answer, but he follows the voice out into darkness...
...And finds himself staring straight up into Charles' bright blue eyes.
“Oh...Erik.” Charles breaths out, relief all too clearly evident in his voice. Hedrops his head right beside Erik's. He doesn't say anything and Erik cannot understand why Charles is reacting that way. It unnerves him even more when Charles bursts into silent tears.
“Charles...” Erik manages to get that much out before Charles raises his head and looks at him, his eyes even more larger and bluer due to the wash of tears. He has to smile at the sight, despite his lips cracking and it forces Charles to choke back a wet laugh.
“Erik. Oh Erik...It's good to see you back, my friend.” Charles whispers as he shakily raises his hand and pushes Erik's hair away from his face. Hair that Erik can now see is more white than its usual dark brown. He swallows hard and raises his hand shakily to trap Charle's wrist. The fact that Erik knows Charles is letting him unnerves him. Especially when he knows that the last time he had seen Charles, that wouldn't have happened.
“What...What happened?” Erik finally rasps out. Charles blinks wetly at Erik before his lips part several times before he finally speaks.
“Do you remember anything after the beach?” Charles asks him and Erik shakes his head. It's all blackness after he killed Shaw. He gets faint echoes of a beach and voices and pain. But nothing more came to him, no matter how hard he forced himself to think.
That blankness makes Erik grimace and try to pull the knowledge of what happened months past from the dark corners of his mind. But it's a failure. He knows that, but doesn't want to give up. He must know. He has to know...
“It's fine, my friend. Don't tax yourself.” Charles soothes him. He can feel Erik becoming agitated and that is the last thing that Charles wants. Especially since Erik has just woken up and has very little strrength to spare. Already, Charles can see Erik's eyes begin to droop, the exchange having taxed him out.
“Too late.” Erik whispers before his eyes slid shut. In seconds, he is asleep again. Although Charles understands Erik needs to sleep as part of the healing process, he hates that it is taking away time for them to speak regarding important matters. He doesn't look forward to the conversation, but he'd rather get it over and done with and deal with the consequences sooner, rather than later.
Charles shakes his head as he smoothes Erik's hair back again, using the touch to reassure himself that Erik is still there and not hiding in his mind again. Much to his relief, Erik has not retreated. Although his thoughts were light and sort of muddled, they weren't in turmoil or blankness. Erik is just sleeping.
He breathes a sigh of relief and removes his hand. Once he does that, he becomes aware of the headache that is pounding in his temples and the
tremors in his hands at the effort of pulling Erik back into
consciousness. He needs to eat and get some aspirin and maybe take a nap
also. He knows he's going to need his strength for the next time that
Erik is more awake and more coherent.
He laughs a bit self-deprecatingly at the thought before he leans down and presses a soft kiss on Erik's forehead, making him stir, but not wake. The small gesture brings a faint smile to Charles' lips, making him more optimistic about the situation. He wouldn't have normally been so demonstrative, but after months of uncertainty, he refuses to hold back any longer. Cuba had taught him that much, at least.
“Rest for now.” He murmurs before he gets up and goes downstairs, leaving Erik sleeping peacefully.
He has just closed the door behind him when he senses Moira walking down the hall towards the library, pausing when she sees him.
“Charles. I just wanted to let you know that Alex called and they will be a little late getting home and...Is everything okay? You look exhausted! I was just going to the kitchen to make a snack, do you want to join me?” Moira asks, moving close and anxiously scanning his face.
“Yes, Moira. That would be good. We can talk more downstairs.”
They walk in silence and it's not until Moira has finished making tea and simple sandwiches that she finally gathers up enough courage to speak to him.
“How did it go with Erik?”Moira asks after she puts the sandwich down beside his cup of tea. He debates sidestepping the answer, but quickly dismisses it. There's no point in hiding it from the person that has become his closest friend and his greatest ally in dealing with the aftermath of Cuba. He also respects her too much to lie to her. If he hadn't been so drawn to Erik that night and if her career hadn't been
her sole focus in life, maybe things would have gone differently that night.
But even then, he knows that he's selling her short. He cares about and loves Moira, but it is Erik that he has given his heart to. That is just
how things have turned out and they both agree that they make better friends than they would have made lovers.
“He woke up. It was brief, but he's awake.” Charles answers Moira, his voice soft and full of wonder as he tells her the news the impact of it
washing over him again, and making him more emotional than he normally would have been at sharing the news.
Moira's eyes widen as she reaches across the counter to lightly clasp Charles' hand.
“That is great news, Charles! I'm so happy to hear that!” Moira exclaims, and Charles knows that she means it. Already, he can feel the sense of guilt she was carrying ease substantially. No matter how much she tried to hide it, he was always aware of it lapping at the edges of her thoughts. But now, it is gone and he is utterly relieved at that being the case.
“Did you get a chance to speak to him about what happened?” Moira asks letting go of his hand to pick up her own cup, and take a long sip from it.
“No. I won't press the issue until he is ready. I don't want to overwhelm him. Especially since getting him up to date is the least of the issues I need to address with him.” Charles points out.
“That won't be easy. Even for you.” She replies as she lowers her cup, and picks up her sandwich.
Seeing her do that reminds Charles that he's not eaten yet, and he too follows suit.
“I am aware of the difficulties. I wish though, that I could be as aware of the reaction afterwards.” Charles explains after taking a bite of the sandwich and swallowing it down.
“I know how I would deal with that situation. But then, even knowingeverything about Erik doesn't give me a clue to how he would react to
the news of what has happened here and to him.”
“Could he react badly and destructively to being told he's paralyzed?” Moira asks, ever the pragmatist. Charles takes another bite of his sandwich, and chews thoughtfully as he ponders the question.
“I'm not sure, to be honest. But to be fair, no one would accept the news graciously. And especially not someone who has relied so much on his body not betraying him for survival.” Charles replies. He's gone over it many times, wondering how he would deal. If he'd be accepting of it quickly, or deny it until it was simply impossible to do so.
Moira's lips tighten, but she says nothing. He knows, from the projections he has gotten from her before, she only regrets that she has hurt Charles. She followed her training and did what she had deemed right in the heat of the moment. Erik had to be stopped. A war had to be stopped. If Erik's mobility had to be the price that had to be paid to achieve those aims, so be it. But hurting Charles had never been on the agenda and that is something that she will never stop regretting. Especially if Erik turns his self-loathing and bitterness upon himself once he's fully aware of what happened to him.
“I don't mean to play the devil's advocate with you so much, Charles. But I'd rather ask the hard questions now-”
“I know, Moira. I know. And I appreciate that you are asking all these questions. But I won't have them until I talk to Erik. I know him, as
much as you can know someone after being in their mind. But even then, I can't predict how he will react. He's exactly that. Highly unpredictable and that does make him both exciting and a foe to be reckoned with.”
Charles cut in, making Moira raise an eyebrow and mutter a small prayer under her breath.
“Well, for your sake, I hope it's something you can handle. But if it isn't, you know where to find me. And I will listen and even try to give you
advice that you will probably ignore.” Moira replies as she cups her chin with her hand and raises an eyebrow as she looks at him.
Charles squirms under her gaze and wants to protest that's not the case. He does listen to her advice. Weighs it carefully before he combines it with his own actions. He has learned that much in months.
“Thank you Moira.” He doesn't say anything else. For now, that is enough. He knows that if he says anything more, it could break the interlude he's gotten.
She smiles at him and pours out more tea, stretching out the moment for as long as they can before the boys and Raven come back from town and they have to continue domestics once again.
Author: Velocity_Girl (aka
konishi_zen)
Beta:
hankandjoel
Verse: X Men First Class
Pairing: Erik/Charles
Status: Fix-it, canonic divergence, established friendship, broken! Erik, Bruised! Charles, eventual happy-ending.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2533
Genre: AU, Drama, Angst, Friendship, Eventual Romance.
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men or the song quoted, which is by Rise Against. I do own a stack of comic books and hockey posters, tho.
Summary: Charles makes contact with Erik. Charles and Moira discuss the next step in Erik's convalescence.
AN: I've just read "Magneto-Testament" and have been reading past issues and synopses and these have been used to flesh out Erik a bit more, but I'm obviously playing fast and loose with some parts of cannon. There is some disturbing imagery and references to ghettos and some gore. Also, Erik has been incapacitated in different times in canon, so it's not a far out stretch. Thank you to all that read and I do apologize for the lateness. Mods-could I get an author tag? Thank you.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“All because of you, I haven't slept in so long
When I do I dream, I'm drowning in the ocean
Longing for the shore, so I can lay my head down
I'll follow your voice. All you have to do is shout it out”- Rise Against.
It's different this time around. He's not in the forest of ice and silver trees that have bleeding blooms dripping blood on the pristine snow and ice underfoot. He had been there quite awhile and he likes it better than the hot beach and the glaring sun and the garbled sounds of
screaming and crying. He hates that particular memory. He doesn't know what is being said and it all hurts. He stays there for what feels like a long time, curling up into himself before he finally finds a doorway coloured a mercury gray and slips out of the beach and into the dark silver forest.
He wanders around and it is very quiet. The only sound most of the time is of the snow crunching underneath his feet. He thinks he hears that voice, whispering and talking and trying to say something to him. Let him know...he doesn't know what it wants him to know and it's
frustrating. It's the equivalent of hearing only half a conversation and he wants it to just stop.
He notices that when his moods change abruptly, the trees will change shape. They don't turn into hideous, clawing things and that he's
grateful for. No. They spread into even more graceful and more complicated flowers. It's as if his rage, sadness, despair and agony are
transmuted into something utterly beautiful instead. The sight makes a slight burst of happiness warm his chest and for a split second, the
memory of someone smiling just for him, flashes through his mind. But it gets lost too damned easily and he's left staring at a complicated
flower the colour of blood.
It isn't until the entire forest has turned into a complex tangle reminiscent of Sleeping Beauty's forest that he finally finds his way out of that forest. He still hears that voice. But it's unclear to him. He just knows that the voice isn't a bad thing. He is left with the sense of an underlying warmth from a time he can't quite grasp. So he doesn't mind when he hears it in the background. He minds the forest a bit more and isn't too heartbroken when he finally leaves with it fading behind him.
He doesn't know why it disappears after him. One minute, he's in that beautiful silver tangle with bloody flowers. The next thing he knows, he's standing outside the Polish ghetto he and his family had been shoved in to after Poland had been occupied. Erik's actually surprised
that he has that memory. He thought that it was long gone in the recesses of his mind. He figures that the years have made it the way it
appears now.
He always wonders why the sky is grey and everything that he touches is dusty. The buildings are all black silhouttes and there aren't any
people around. He can't find his mother, sister, or his father. He can't find anyone he knows. He's in a no man's land and he can't find the way out. He's crowded by skeletons in black wool coats and grinning death's heads wearing the sinister grey uniform of the German military.
It's a monochramatic nightmare around him and he can't run away from it. No matter how many times he escapes, how far he runs, he keeps seeing the same sights over and over again.
He doesn't cry. But he wants to. He thought he escaped this nightmare already. That it was safely hidden in the dark recesses of his mind.
Sealed permanently in a box. He doesn't understand why the box has been opened and all these hideous memories have been jarred loose.
He doesn't understand why he can't get out and it hurts even worse when he realizes that he's back in the same scenario. Like a morbid loop of his worst nightmares being replayed over and over again. He's also deeply thankful that he at least isn't trapped in the worst memory of them all. He's sure that he would lose his mind if he had to hear those words spoken in a tremulous voice over and over again...
“-ik. Erik. Erik. Come back to us. Come back to me. Erik...Please, Erik. Come back...”
His head snaps up and he stays still. It's the first time since he's been wandering around that he's heard the voice that clearly. He stops and waits for it to come back, knowing instinctively that if he follows the voice, he will be able to find his way out of the ghetto and the forest
and the beach. He waits and waits, hoping against hope that the voice would come back.
“Erik...Erik...Answer me if you can? Erik?”
He doesn't answer, but he follows the voice out into darkness...
...And finds himself staring straight up into Charles' bright blue eyes.
“Oh...Erik.” Charles breaths out, relief all too clearly evident in his voice. Hedrops his head right beside Erik's. He doesn't say anything and Erik cannot understand why Charles is reacting that way. It unnerves him even more when Charles bursts into silent tears.
“Charles...” Erik manages to get that much out before Charles raises his head and looks at him, his eyes even more larger and bluer due to the wash of tears. He has to smile at the sight, despite his lips cracking and it forces Charles to choke back a wet laugh.
“Erik. Oh Erik...It's good to see you back, my friend.” Charles whispers as he shakily raises his hand and pushes Erik's hair away from his face. Hair that Erik can now see is more white than its usual dark brown. He swallows hard and raises his hand shakily to trap Charle's wrist. The fact that Erik knows Charles is letting him unnerves him. Especially when he knows that the last time he had seen Charles, that wouldn't have happened.
“What...What happened?” Erik finally rasps out. Charles blinks wetly at Erik before his lips part several times before he finally speaks.
“Do you remember anything after the beach?” Charles asks him and Erik shakes his head. It's all blackness after he killed Shaw. He gets faint echoes of a beach and voices and pain. But nothing more came to him, no matter how hard he forced himself to think.
That blankness makes Erik grimace and try to pull the knowledge of what happened months past from the dark corners of his mind. But it's a failure. He knows that, but doesn't want to give up. He must know. He has to know...
“It's fine, my friend. Don't tax yourself.” Charles soothes him. He can feel Erik becoming agitated and that is the last thing that Charles wants. Especially since Erik has just woken up and has very little strrength to spare. Already, Charles can see Erik's eyes begin to droop, the exchange having taxed him out.
“Too late.” Erik whispers before his eyes slid shut. In seconds, he is asleep again. Although Charles understands Erik needs to sleep as part of the healing process, he hates that it is taking away time for them to speak regarding important matters. He doesn't look forward to the conversation, but he'd rather get it over and done with and deal with the consequences sooner, rather than later.
Charles shakes his head as he smoothes Erik's hair back again, using the touch to reassure himself that Erik is still there and not hiding in his mind again. Much to his relief, Erik has not retreated. Although his thoughts were light and sort of muddled, they weren't in turmoil or blankness. Erik is just sleeping.
He breathes a sigh of relief and removes his hand. Once he does that, he becomes aware of the headache that is pounding in his temples and the
tremors in his hands at the effort of pulling Erik back into
consciousness. He needs to eat and get some aspirin and maybe take a nap
also. He knows he's going to need his strength for the next time that
Erik is more awake and more coherent.
He laughs a bit self-deprecatingly at the thought before he leans down and presses a soft kiss on Erik's forehead, making him stir, but not wake. The small gesture brings a faint smile to Charles' lips, making him more optimistic about the situation. He wouldn't have normally been so demonstrative, but after months of uncertainty, he refuses to hold back any longer. Cuba had taught him that much, at least.
“Rest for now.” He murmurs before he gets up and goes downstairs, leaving Erik sleeping peacefully.
He has just closed the door behind him when he senses Moira walking down the hall towards the library, pausing when she sees him.
“Charles. I just wanted to let you know that Alex called and they will be a little late getting home and...Is everything okay? You look exhausted! I was just going to the kitchen to make a snack, do you want to join me?” Moira asks, moving close and anxiously scanning his face.
“Yes, Moira. That would be good. We can talk more downstairs.”
They walk in silence and it's not until Moira has finished making tea and simple sandwiches that she finally gathers up enough courage to speak to him.
“How did it go with Erik?”Moira asks after she puts the sandwich down beside his cup of tea. He debates sidestepping the answer, but quickly dismisses it. There's no point in hiding it from the person that has become his closest friend and his greatest ally in dealing with the aftermath of Cuba. He also respects her too much to lie to her. If he hadn't been so drawn to Erik that night and if her career hadn't been
her sole focus in life, maybe things would have gone differently that night.
But even then, he knows that he's selling her short. He cares about and loves Moira, but it is Erik that he has given his heart to. That is just
how things have turned out and they both agree that they make better friends than they would have made lovers.
“He woke up. It was brief, but he's awake.” Charles answers Moira, his voice soft and full of wonder as he tells her the news the impact of it
washing over him again, and making him more emotional than he normally would have been at sharing the news.
Moira's eyes widen as she reaches across the counter to lightly clasp Charles' hand.
“That is great news, Charles! I'm so happy to hear that!” Moira exclaims, and Charles knows that she means it. Already, he can feel the sense of guilt she was carrying ease substantially. No matter how much she tried to hide it, he was always aware of it lapping at the edges of her thoughts. But now, it is gone and he is utterly relieved at that being the case.
“Did you get a chance to speak to him about what happened?” Moira asks letting go of his hand to pick up her own cup, and take a long sip from it.
“No. I won't press the issue until he is ready. I don't want to overwhelm him. Especially since getting him up to date is the least of the issues I need to address with him.” Charles points out.
“That won't be easy. Even for you.” She replies as she lowers her cup, and picks up her sandwich.
Seeing her do that reminds Charles that he's not eaten yet, and he too follows suit.
“I am aware of the difficulties. I wish though, that I could be as aware of the reaction afterwards.” Charles explains after taking a bite of the sandwich and swallowing it down.
“I know how I would deal with that situation. But then, even knowingeverything about Erik doesn't give me a clue to how he would react to
the news of what has happened here and to him.”
“Could he react badly and destructively to being told he's paralyzed?” Moira asks, ever the pragmatist. Charles takes another bite of his sandwich, and chews thoughtfully as he ponders the question.
“I'm not sure, to be honest. But to be fair, no one would accept the news graciously. And especially not someone who has relied so much on his body not betraying him for survival.” Charles replies. He's gone over it many times, wondering how he would deal. If he'd be accepting of it quickly, or deny it until it was simply impossible to do so.
Moira's lips tighten, but she says nothing. He knows, from the projections he has gotten from her before, she only regrets that she has hurt Charles. She followed her training and did what she had deemed right in the heat of the moment. Erik had to be stopped. A war had to be stopped. If Erik's mobility had to be the price that had to be paid to achieve those aims, so be it. But hurting Charles had never been on the agenda and that is something that she will never stop regretting. Especially if Erik turns his self-loathing and bitterness upon himself once he's fully aware of what happened to him.
“I don't mean to play the devil's advocate with you so much, Charles. But I'd rather ask the hard questions now-”
“I know, Moira. I know. And I appreciate that you are asking all these questions. But I won't have them until I talk to Erik. I know him, as
much as you can know someone after being in their mind. But even then, I can't predict how he will react. He's exactly that. Highly unpredictable and that does make him both exciting and a foe to be reckoned with.”
Charles cut in, making Moira raise an eyebrow and mutter a small prayer under her breath.
“Well, for your sake, I hope it's something you can handle. But if it isn't, you know where to find me. And I will listen and even try to give you
advice that you will probably ignore.” Moira replies as she cups her chin with her hand and raises an eyebrow as she looks at him.
Charles squirms under her gaze and wants to protest that's not the case. He does listen to her advice. Weighs it carefully before he combines it with his own actions. He has learned that much in months.
“Thank you Moira.” He doesn't say anything else. For now, that is enough. He knows that if he says anything more, it could break the interlude he's gotten.
She smiles at him and pours out more tea, stretching out the moment for as long as they can before the boys and Raven come back from town and they have to continue domestics once again.